Solace-inu - Yes That's My Chonky Dog

steven grant: how can I live laugh love in these conditions 

* / MISBEHAVING

— MASTERLIST;

( sukuna x f!reader / gojo x f!reader )

+ to join the taglist: fill this up. (closed for now!!)

summary: after getting kicked to the curb by gojo satoru, you want to give him a taste of his own medicine. the answer? ryomen sukuna. but you get more than you bargained for when you get entangled in both family’s messes.

content warnings: angst + fluff + smut (MDNI), modern au, fake dating, toxic relationships (and families), mentions of abuse/death, everyone in this story is petty in their own way (and i mean very petty), sukuna is mostly a dick (so is gojo), toji is a bad father, everyone here is bad at feelings (sorry!), manipulating/gaslighting, alcohol/cigarettes will be commonly mentioned & included, certain degree of elitism, beware my horrible planning skills + more to be revealed as the chapters go along.

status: ongoing! (click here if you want to read on ao3)

-> flip the pages:

01. prologue: the calm before the storm

02. chapter one: the enemy of my enemy is my (boy)friend

03. chapter two: barking up the wrong zenin tree

04. chapter three: keeping up (fake) appearances

05. chapter four: the monument to all your sins

06. chapter five: two sides to the same coin

07. chapter six: and that’s where love finds you, in the tragedies

08. chapter seven: where there’s smoke, there’s fire (and disaster)

++ more to be updated!

+ notes: please remember—not everything is accurate to real-life situations & all things that happen here are fictional. sukuna doesn’t have tattoos on his face here, just his body and they’re not the same as the manga/anime. titles for unreleased chapters might change because i’m indecisive.

this ask is for rhaenyra ~ would you be down to hook up with your hot uncle? if not, can i hook up with him?

💭 thinking about . . . . going furniture shopping with caleb

tw. caleb x fem!reader, suggestive content, domestic caleb, crack-ish, inspired by that one tiktok of a couple playfully testing out furniture ergonomics in the ikea showrooms, 760 words

Maybe a trip to Ikea with your boyfriend slash ex-older brother figure wasn’t such a good idea when you take into consideration how pent-up you are from the mere sight of furniture. 

While that might sound strange, it’s nothing compared to the thoughts that arise when your gaze lingers on a few sturdy couches, your mind wandering to what it would be like if Caleb had you bent over the arms, the hot press of his body moving against yours desperately, his mouth on your neck, fingers tangled in your hair, trying to get you to that feverish peak—

“... and we could have the lamp near the desk—Pipsqueak?” 

His voice breaks you free from the reverie, and you startle slightly, turning your wide eyes to him.

“Hmm? What was that?” 

Caleb is looking at you with a shadow of concern in his eyes, his brows pinched in thought. “Are you okay? You zoned out and I coulda sworn you were about to break the stratosphere.” He takes your hand in what is supposed to be a comforting gesture. But, all you can think about is how those warm palms were just pressed to your hips last night, pinning you down as he got his fill of you.

The deepening warmth in your cheeks can’t be hidden. Caleb notices it instantly, years of intimately knowing your reactions and now, as your boyfriend, your little cues which point to one thing lingering in your mind. 

He grins. “Oh?” Despite being in a public setting, he corners against a fake console table, a smirk on his handsome, devilish expression. “Is my princess feeling a little bit… frisky?”

Caleb guffaws when you pout and push him away, the heated points of your cheeks undeniable. “Caleb, you big dummy—”

“Come on, princess. I was just messin’ around with you.” 

Slinging an arm around your waist, he drags you closer to his broad chest, the ends of his bangs tickling you when he leans in to smooch your cheek in the middle of the fake Ikea living room. Another couple walks past, their curious gazes darting to the two of you, and you feel the weight of judgement—the understanding of why your boyfriend is being so touchy-feely with you right now. 

Caleb decides to humor you, wanting to make you feel comfortable by interjecting lame jokes whenever the two of you drift to a new Ikea showcase. He pretends to measure the height of the kitchen counter in comparison with you, a half-serious thoughtful look on his face as he cups his hands by his side and bends slightly, trying to picture how you would look like sprawled out over the slick tiles and gasping while he—

Oh.

He can definitely see what you’re on about now. 

Shopping for furniture suddenly stopped feeling like a chore, especially when you can amuse each other by speculating on just how sturdy the fixings would be for future, intimate encounters. 

You would test a table’s resilience by sitting on it, and Caleb would give you a knowing look and a smirk. In the bathroom aisles, he slips inside a makeshift shower, pretending to measure the dimensions of how your body would fit pressed against the glass. 

Things get a little too real in the bedroom section. Caleb chuckles as you discreetly kneel by the edge of the bed, turning back to look at him with a heated tint in your cheeks. 

“Peak comfort, Colonel?” You tease him and he pretends to mull it over.

“Sturdy as can be, soldier… though the Malm does look more cosy…”

Caleb pinches your arm in warning when you slump over the sofa bed and spread your legs, trying to picture how ergonomic it would be when he has you folded like a lawn chair and is rocking your world apart. “Princess, behave—” he hisses, shielding you from an elderly couple who strolls by, oblivious to your mischief. 

Hand in hand, Caleb and you make a mental note of each piece of furniture that passed the degeneracy test when you finally load up the trolley. 

He glances at you as you’re deep in thought over some light fixtures, and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head.

When he first bought his house in Skyhaven, he gave it little thought—letting moving boxes pile up, and leaving it sterile and empty. Then, you came into the picture and what was once four blank walls became his favorite thing in the world: a home—a real home—with you. 

♡ feedback and reblogs are appreciated

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

PESTIS

plague doctor monster x reader | 18+ | 3.7k

after the doctors in your town burn the bodies of plague victims, a mysterious cortège of black wagons begins visiting once a month. the one who leads them, great death, asks you what your deceased husband's soul is worth to you, and the result of it begins a convoluted spiral.

story warnings; dead dove do not eat, sexual content, major dubcon, kinda implied size kink?, size difference, his ejaculate is not sexily described lmao, extreme body horror + grotesque details, graphic depiction of gore (at the end), kinda-sorta cannibalism?, mc is pretty shitty in this, murder, disturbing details all around, bodies are burned, frightening imagery, prose + detail heavy, this is a bit of an exploration of greed + touches on some relevant events if you can figure out the parallels, plays with the idea of humans having actual souls, roughly proofread, don't look too much into inconsistencies lmao just have fun.

muted divider by @/anlian-aishang

a/n; originally, this was supposed to be >1k as part of a personal challenge where ppl could vote on a poll for what genre i'd write a piece for. horror won.

thanks to @shouyuus for shoving this prompt from @/deepwaterwritingprompts in my face. this piece followed the prompt very loosely, but still!!

pls share your thoughts + reblog this! it really means a lot to support writers, guys 💙

All anyone knew was that he was called Great Death, and he led a cortège of black wagons with black lace across the windows into town square for one night, once a month.

The procession’s arrival was announced by clopping hooves from skinless, skeletal steeds and enormous wheels jolting across the cobblestone terrain, of which the very foundation of the town had been built on top of. Even though they moved slowly, precisely, in a single line of synchrony, their sound was one of continuous rolling thunder; the roaring fireplaces where all of the bodies were incinerated.

Your husband had been reduced to human soot in one of them, but you weren't allowed to know which one.

No one was.

The doctors had argued it was to prevent grieving families and grave robbers from clawing through the ash in search of bones, scraps of clothing, or valuables discarded with the bodies of nobles. But, none of that made any difference as there was greed and loss, far too much of it to keep people out of the fireplaces and from digging and stealing and reclaiming.

You hadn't been so driven to search for your husband’s things because you still possessed more wealth than he had been burned with. He had been blistered with black and purple pustules of infection and plague before he died, so you feared that breathing him in (breathing anyone in) would fill your lungs with them (with him) and kill you, too.

My love, this is your color!

But, that did not mean that you did not grieve, because you missed the beauty that he brought to your life. You missed his gentle wit and loving mind, how he always sent you exquisite clothing from wherever in the world he had gotten to now.

Every color was your color, in his eyes. And, every piece he had delivered to you became a part of your collection of things. An opulent display of his devotion and good status to show to your friends, anyone sitting with you for quaint tea and distantly sourced food untouched by the town.

- Samuel

Meeting Great Death had come long after the burning of plague bodies, now hushedly called The Incineration, and months since the cortège had first appeared during each waning crescent.

The wagons had filed into town with their thunder, pulled by dead horses that made the ground shiver under your feet. Many townsfolk, including yourself, had been roused by the commotion and hurriedly made themselves decent to check outside. It became a spectacle of groaning complaints, white nightdresses, and bright orange lantern light floating midair in bloodless fists.

All light was to the wagons, which had formed a tight, silent ring around the poisoned fountain spouting brown plague water, and the disoriented chatter had ebbed into anticipatory shushing.

Then, the townsfolk jumped, as the windows with their blackout lace fell forward as though forced from the other side, landing flat like a countertop. The darkness beyond the windows was as dark and dense as it was infinite, smothering pulsing glows from the lanterns as some fearless men awkwardly inched closer to the wagons.

“O’ woe! Tragedy! Tragedy has befallen your home! It has taken your friends and family. It has crushed your souls and stolen theirs. But, have no fear, for we have come to return what once was yours!” said Great Death from somewhere within the throng of wagons and wet skeleton horses.

“What are they worth to you? The souls of your dearly departed. What are they worth to you? To be reunited with those that you loved so dearly and so terribly lost. Wouldn't you do everything you could to have them back? Pay any price? Come! Come! Come all! Let us speak!”

And then, bone-white beaks and hollow eyes emerged from the darkness within the wagons. Each window filled with these spectre merchants; frightening monstrosities in black cloaks and wide-brimmed hats and long fingers pushed into leather gloves.

One townsfolk had communicated what you, what everyone else had thought seeing them, “What are the doctors doing? Haven't we suffered enough because of them? They've burned everyone we loved, and now they're trying to sell them back to us as souls? This is madness!”

“They are not our doctors! Look! Look!” wailed another; a paranoid man, “those are not masks. Those beaks are bone and skin. They are demons coming for the rest of us! Run! Run for your lives! Seal your doors! Hide!”

You were pulled along with the scattering crowd, the dispersing lantern light and slamming doors, but you did not flee inside as everyone else had. Instead, you were coaxed back towards the wagons by a leathery hand and nodding beak gesturing for you to come close.

The wagon was larger than the rest, as was the creature leaning out of the window. There was fleshiness to his long beak, waxen with green veins that throbbed in the swaying light.

Great Death looked at you with nothing eyes, and nearly bent his head sideways onto his shoulder as if his true stature were cramped inside of the wagon. When he spoke, he did so clearly, even without his beak splitting into halves like separate jaws.

“How joyous! You didn't run away. Your grief must be immeasurable. Please, come even closer to me. Come here. Yes, yes, what a lovely thing you are.” Great Death giggled in delight of your obedience, or your foolishness. “You do not wear rags. You are well groomed. You possess no healthy amount of suspicion, yet I suspect you are still mourning someone. Who might it be? You can tell me. Who? Who?”

You sensed he was mocking you with that jaunty voice of his. He asked you like someone who already knew a secret, but who'd wanted to hear the great revelation straight from the source.

“My husband.” You told him. “He was a wealthy merchant who owned many ships. He sailed for more months out of the year than he was home. He could've found someone else far more beautiful, more handsome than I, but he kept me. He always came home.”

Great Death stayed at his sickly angle with his head as he leaned out the window further, both hands grasping the edge of the window-countertop. “Ah, I see. And I assume that this wonderful, merchant husband of yours succumbed to the plague? Yes. Yes, he burned with the rest, didn't he?”

“He burned with the rest,” you said.

“A hideous shame! You do have my condolences. I must ask, have there been any other cases of plague since The Incineration?” His gloves scuffed as he fluttered his fingers outward, away from you and towards the lightless houses and barricaded doors. “I won't hear an answer from anyone else, as you know.”

You couldn't hold his empty gaze, those sockets of penetrating black and looked over his shoulder, hoping to see inside at something.

Somewhere far, somewhere deep, you noticed a faint glow. Tiny hums of light blinking in and out of existence like fireflies. Little sentient creatures with will and action of their own. But, these were colors: mostly bright white, some were yellow and orange, and a few were searing white-blue.

“No,” you said, at last, remembering the question, “there haven't been any more cases since the burnings. Since—”

“The ships stopped sailing.”

“Yes.” you said.

Great Death then withdrew into the darkness of the wagon with his crooked neck and leathery hands. You considered leaving for your home, padlocking the doors and pushing furniture up against them because it was clear that this creature—all of these creatures—harbored no good intentions.

They were not your doctors who had incinerated hundreds of bodies, claiming it as necessity; saying that there was no other way to protect the rest of the town. At the time, houses quarantining the sick had been forcibly broken into by the doctors and other men in masks and gowns. They offered no apologies, no desire for absolution, no mercy.

The plagued were dragged from their deathbeds, their salt baths, their favorite chairs and out onto the streets with no dignity, in whatever way they'd been found. They were taken to the fireplaces, thrown inside those great, lashing lion flames and died screaming as they became smoke and ash. Outrage only came after as it had all happened so quickly, no one had expected it.

The doctors had said nothing. Offered few sympathies, yet promised that this sacrifice, this purge, had saved the rest of the town. That there would be no more plague.

Sometimes, the fireplaces still wailed, but not how they'd had then.

“What is your husband's soul worth to you?” asked Great Death, now back in his window with his sideways head and hands clasped on the countertop.

He'd been there for a while, it seemed. And you were still standing in front of his wagon, instead of being tucked away behind the safety of locks and walls.

“You—do you have him in there with you?”

“Oh, possibly,” he said, calm and unrevealing. His hands lightly thudded on the window-countertop, rattling the glass that it was made from. “I have a little bit of everyone in here, I suppose you could say. What is your husband's soul worth to you?”

You said nothing because how could you measure the worth of a soul? Did a soul cost as much as your vast wardrobe? Did it cost as much as your house? Was it worth the same one of your legs, or a cluster of pubic hairs cut with a razor?

“Do you think his soul is worth your fortune?” Great Death saw your stricken expression just then and let out a breathy laugh. A satisfied laugh. “Is he worth you giving up your clothes? Your house? Your comfortability? Do you love your husband enough to live in rags for the rest of your life?”

You rushed up to his countertop and grabbed his hands with yours. For once, your heart was beating something awful, foul with hot-cold dread that felt wet under your skin. “I—what else is there? What else would you be willing to take? Anything else?”

Great Death was terrible up close, freezing to the touch. Pale. Dead. Not of this realm. The air around him was dense, stagnant, like it had a breath to hold. It simply did not move in his presence. The feeling of his fingers wrapping yours then, pinning them to the countertop, suffusing you with his cold and his darkness made your neck hairs stand upright.

He was enjoying this.

“I will consider it a fair exchange. Everything material that you hold precious in exchange for the man you love. Wouldn't you say that sacrificing your wealth would be worth it if it meant reuniting with him?”

“I've earned everything that I have after a lifetime of scraping around the slums. I will not return to that,” you said, low in your throat, borderline vicious. “Anything else?”

He let out a windy sound, perhaps a breath, or hum that meant he knew too much. His thumbs, much larger than your own, caressed the peaks of your knuckles, stroked the backs of your hands and pressed down on your veins while he contemplated.

“Come inside, then. Just around the corner.” Great Death moved his slanted head slightly right, indicating a black door at the rear of the wagon, which had been camouflaged by the inky dark. “I'll open it for you. Come along. Come. Come.”

The interior became familiar to you each month thereafter. But, you would always remember how disoriented you'd been first stepping inside of the commodious space filled with all manner of things vile, fascinating, and mystifying.

Great Death was able to fix his neck when he wasn't hunkered by the window that reached only waist-height on him. He and the rest of the soul vendors were like afterimages of each other, seemingly indistinct, grayer, when you stared at one long enough and then looked to another. Great Death, however, came with a heavier beak that curved more sharply; a carrion face capable of tearing through your viscera.

He was one with the semi-darkness, his shapeless silhouette a seamless mesh with air and shadows, of which the yellow tallow candlelight did not fully reach. When he moved, it was swift, inescapable; he glided rather than walked, and you could only follow his pallid features appearing to float midair.

“Forgive me for the mess, it is so rare that I have guests come inside to visit me. Transactions are better done outside, after all,” explained Great Death, already unfastening, untying, disrobing you, and laying you out on a wooden slab of a table. “My, you are lovely, aren't you? I wonder if what I see is what your husband saw in you as well? Ah, that is unlikely.”

You bled on his cock that night as he savagely fucked you into the table. His nothingness had been moved away, parted in halves to reveal gray and blackened purple hardness. An emaciated belly of similar tones was eye-catching and harsh and familiar, but a view which became unimportant as he impaled you, yanked your head back by hair closest to your scalp, and forced your gaze to the ceiling.

There, you watched the serpentine emptiness coil across the ceiling of the wagon, watched the formations in the wood grain come alive with writhing, yawning faces that never lasted long enough to know if they were speaking to you, because Great Death thrusted too hard, made you cry, bleed more, but you didn't tell him to stop.

This was the price you were willing to pay. So, you laid beneath him motionless, sore, regretting your own stubbornness for just a moment until he let out a shuddering breath of release, rutting you with his cock still twisted with your insides. He flooded your walls with cum that felt wrong, gluey, membranous. It oozed out slowly once he removed himself, the pain of him having been there was worse now that there was nothing left.

“Even I experience lust and crave a human’s touch, their soft flesh. Humans are an indulgence we are rarely afforded. Souls, well, as you can imagine, cannot do much,” said Great Death once cloaked in his darkness again. He redressed you, starting with the sleeves, and helped you off of the table with encouraging pats to your lower back. “I greatly enjoyed myself. Thank you for this exchange.”

“My husband's soul, I want it.” Now, as he ushered you towards the end of the wagon, towards the black door concealed in staticy shadows, you ached in countable pulses. “Give it to me.”

Great Death giggled, pressed his hands down onto your shoulders, and nuzzled his lethal beak against your neck.

“Come back to me next month.”

And, that's how it went on from there on out. Each month during the waning crescent, a persistent bright and sharp sickle in the sky, he led the cortège into town square and allowed you through the threshold into his sacred place. He serviced no others in town, but had expressed certain morbid appreciation to you, saying that because of your brazenness, more of the vendors were being skittishly approached by those deluged in grief and delusion.

“Oh, oh, oh, how joyous, my lovely.” He fucked you on the floor as he spoke, ramming you cruelly, until you whimpered and moaned. You wondered if he was trying to make you scream. “What a boon you've become to us all. They're all so happy. Your people. Mine. The souls. None are so happy as me, though.”

Before he'd penetrated you again, before he'd let you through the door, he met you at his window-countertop and asked, “What is your husband's soul worth to you? Have you considered letting go of your fortune? My lovely, you know that you cannot possibly take it with you once you perish and rot, yes?”

Always frightened by the thought and obstinate, you let him have you in whatever way he pleased. The pain eventually washed over with numbness. At times, his long strokes against your walls felt good, and occasionally you would come on his gray and purple cock. Focusing on how thick he felt inside of you, and the white streaks of lightning crackling behind your eyes.

Without fail, he flooded you and made it stay for a short while as if relishing your prolonged discomfort and disgust that he was still there. It would leak slowly, abnormally, as he redraped himself. Concealed his sallow body with protruding ribs, jagged angles, and dark slits spread throughout.

He was corpselike; he looked like rot. His rot inched out you for days after he was long gone, and then the sickness would set in. Red hot fevers and bone cold shivers kept you bedridden for weeks, tended to by cautious maids unsure what to make of your recurrent episodes.

Nothing showed, but you felt festering beneath your skin. Unexplainable in that you saw no such lesions, no lumps lurking in the layers of your anatomy. But, you soothed and scratched yourself like something was there. The maids were worried that your grief had made you spiral into hysterics, and they considered calling one of the doctors to your bedside.

“I will ruin all of you if you bring one of those—those murderers into my house!”

At these times, you could not be reasoned with. There was too much itch, too much sensation, too much boiling under flesh and bone, too much crawling, too much pain, too much hunger, too much vomiting, too much too much too much too much too much…

“What is your husband's soul worth to you?” Great Death had returned during the waning crescent, said you looked unwell. “Will we continue our exchange as we usually do? I am not opposed, you know that. I am very fond of you, my lovely. Come inside.”

You were fragile and fatigued from fighting illness, so it didn't much matter how hard he fucked you into the floor. Skin slapped and moistened with fluids and sweat, and Great Death’s moans broke the stillness in the air.

“Oh, my lovely, I look forward to coming to this town because I know that you're waiting for me.” He said it dreamily, like in reminiscence of a bleary, beautiful memory. A faded photograph lost between pages of a book of someone once loved. “Perhaps I see a little of what your husband saw in you. No. No, I see deeper than he ever could. I see through you into your core. I see your soul. Oh, how hideous it is.”

His body was revealed to you. The dark slits which covered him twitched and opened wide into tens of dozens of pupiless black eyes, and lipless mouths with needle teeth. Purple-red tongues lashed out of the mouths at you, making you scream and struggle beneath his weight.

“This wasn't part of the exchange! I just want my husband’s soul!” you pleaded, searing with panic through every ounce of your being. “I'll give you it. I'll give you everything. My clothes. My house. My fortune! It's all yours!”

His fucking had slowed, stopped entirely as a bullous, flickering light had drifted out from some hidden places in the depths of the wagon. It was gently orange at its center, emanating a pale aura outward, which pulsed like a heartbeat and buzzed with familiar warmth.

You thought to reach for the doomed little thing destined to be smothered by the dark. All light eventually was.

“He's waited for you all along, my lovely,” said Great Death softly. He followed the floating marvel with his nothing eyes as it circled your joined bodies. Eventually, it came close enough to snatch out of the air and snuff out in his leathery fist. “Yes, such a beautiful soul he was. I no longer want it.”

Your breath snatched in your throat, mouth agape. Shock had invited in a swell of watery cold that made you unable to truly acknowledge what had just happened. That you'd lost your husband for a second time; this time forever.

There was no telling smear of blood or glittering orange residue in his open palm when he showed it to you. It was as if it had been a brilliant trick of extinguishing candlelight without a trace.

“Your soul is most foul, but it will be my prize. My lovely, for as long as I find you beautiful and repulsive, you will live on. Yes. Yes, I'll keep you here with me so that I may always be able to admire you.”

Before you could've launched yet another scream into the immense void of the wagon, he thrust his carrion beak into your chest. He wedged it deep through your muscle and blood, piercing cartilage and bone to reach your heart.

Great Death used his hand to rip out the throbbing, glistening organ from the rest of you. He observed blood filling the cavernous well he'd left inside you, saying nothing as it backed up your throat and spilled profusely from your mouth. Once you died, the bright red that had stained your teeth darkened to exquisite purplish-red.

He tore your heart apart into consumable pieces and fed them to his mouths. The piranha teeth and long, licking tongues chewed eagerly; meanwhile, the eyelids on his body closed knowing that the mouths would soon be sated by the decadent meal.

Thereafter, he waited.

He waited for a long time, because souls were oftentimes more timid than their human husks. There was nothing left to protect them from vendors on the prowl, vendors who had built collections across millennia.

But, eventually, your soul did appear before him in stuttering pink light. He caught you easily, let you rest in his hand while he decided on which jar he owned could possibly be enough to house your beauty.

You would turn sinfully red as you matured, became strong, forgot who you used to be.

All you would know is the Great Death and the inside of his vast wagon littered with strange things. He would be kind to you by letting you out of your jar sometimes, but for now, he'd keep you on the middle shelf where he could best see you.

a/n: I have this habit of killing husbands or doing awful things to them and I am very unapologetic about it.

anyway. this wasn't executed quite as well as I'd hoped. but, I wasn't writing to perfection, it was just a little personal challenge for myself. overall, I'm not unhappy with it.

I'd like to bring great death back again in another piece sometime, if y'all are interested.

this was also the first time where I think I've actually, deadass killed my reader-character and it felt so good lmao. I've implied in several of my stories without making it explicitly so.

anyway!!! I'd still love to hear your feedback and would absolutely adore you if you reblogged!!

Goro the Merman

It's Mermay! And I have for you a wonderful story of a girl and the merman who terrorizes the beach she is supposed to watch over. (I just watched Zoolander so I'm trying not to make a joke.) Female Reader x Male Merman

There’s loud screaming coming from the beach. You look up towards the window, rushing over as you pull back the curtains. To see a crowd rushing from sandy dunes, some falling over in panic. You scoff, frustrated as you know exactly what has happened. You go outside, taking down the wrap around your hair.

“It’s alright, people! It’s alright!” You shout out to the crowd. “Go to the awning over there, yeah, the green one!” You instruct people where to go after being frightened like that. Storming down the beach, you come to the lapping waves.

“I know you’re out there!” You snap your hands upon your hips. “I’m waiting!”

Something inky black rises to the surface. Then glittering gemstones of eyes look at you. You can tell he’s smirking under the water.

“Goro.” you say sternly.

Bubbles rise up from the water as he laughs.

You lick your tongue along the edge of your teeth and tsk. “What did we just talk about? I told you that this is-”

“A rest stop for the weary,” Goro hissed as he raised his head further out of the water. The black tendrils that covered the top of his head continued to float along the surface. “A beach for the weak. Sands for healing.”

You had been trying to hide the full brunt of your annoyance, but your scowl always came through. He is testing you, because reaction is what he craves. Even the smallest scowl gives him glee.

“That is not my prerogative.” Gor came up onto the beach, stretching out his long tail. The end looked like ripped fabric, going into many various strands and length. On land it looked like wet cloth, but underwater, you were sure it was a spectacle of brilliance.

“I asked you a favor!” Your balled fist thumps against your temple. “This beach earns me my income and you are-”

His mouth split into a great big smile, revealing many rows of teeth. His bright green eyes flashed in the darkness of his scales. He was midnight incarnate, and his scales shone like an aurora borealis.

“I’ll be gone soon enough,” you quickly said before he could add anything. “I run the lighthouse until the first frost.”

Goro’s smile is replaced by something else, something less menacing but more telling. “If not you, then some other fool. Then another, and another.”

“That’s how this job works. Keep the lighthouse, guard the beach, and don’t discourage the travelers!” You put your hands back to your waist. “That includes watching you.”

Goro cracked his neck and pushed his tendrils back from his face. “I am an attraction, same as the sands.”

You narrowed your eyes upon him. “Behave. That is what I am asking you.” You then bent over and snatched a handful of the magic sands. “You’re just lucky I needed more of this to study.”

Goro snickered. “To study. Right!”

You turn to head back to the landing where all the people have gathered.

Behind you, Goro sighed. “I know the secrets to the sand, but no one ever asks me nothing.”

“What are you going on about?” You huff as you face him again.

Goro smirks, his scales shimmering teal then to purple against the black. “Everyone is so curious about how the sand here has healing properties, but they never think to ask me why.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay then, why?”

He tapped a finger to his wide mouth. “Family secret.”

You asked and got what you expected. “Behave, Goro,” you said sternly. “I won’t tell you again!”

“And then what will you do?” He teased.

You gave him one last look before heading back up the beach to tell the travelers all was safe. Goro was a menace, but he wasn’t dangerous. A fighter, perhaps, but he wasn’t a flesh eater.

Once people were calmed and taken care of, you went back to work. The healing sands were well known, and many had tried uncovering the secrets it hid. Back at your old apothecary, you used to make potions with it all the time. That was, until your apothecary fired you when your experiments blew up the laboratory.

But that’s okay! The lighthouse and beach keeper position was great! You got to study the sand directly from the source, and the lab you made was in a bunker, so if there was an explosion again, you would be the only one harmed by it.

Still, your post here was limited. Once it began to grow cold and the froth on the beach turned to ice, you would be moved off the island and back to the mainland. Which was fine by you, you were never one for the cold, and you had plans to go study spices in Rakshasa Country. You would be surrounded by other students varying from chefs, healers, and your kind. Your only constant company here on the island was Goro, and you had been warned about him.

The previous beach keeper had dealt with Goro for three seasons before giving up. This was your first season, and while Goro was a nuisance, you couldn’t understand why he would make someone leave the island.

Early mornings were your favorite time to go to the beach. The sky was dusky, the air crisp, and there was no one there. You would walk the beach, studying the sands and watching the waves. Whatever gave the sand their healing properties had to come from the ocean, but that was an even bigger mystery.

“Walking all by yourself?”

Above you, Goro was lounging upon some smooth boulders. His cheek rested on his arms, and his eyes focused upon you.

“I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me,” you grunted.

“Awww, how come?” Goro’s tail swished back and forth upon the stone.

“I’m a little busy,” you tell him.

Goro sat up and stretched, yawning loudly, stretching open his mouth to show the sharp teeth inside. “Doing what?” He smirked down upon you. “Making sandcastles?”

You frowned, kicking down a heap of sand you had built. “Just doing some thinking. That’s all part of studying.”

Goro slid down from the rocks and relaxed upon the sands. He grabbed a handful of the sand then let it run through his fingers. “Is thinking what turned your hair green?”

You reached up and touched your hair, gently smoothing it back. “No. A potion I make does it.”

Goro snickered. “You’d fit in better under the water with hair like that. It’s perfect camouflage for hiding in the kelp.” he seemed to pose, raising his long arms above his head then puffing out his chest. There was a stretch of skin along his belly and chest, a soft flesh area that was dark, but flecked with pale speckles.

“Bigger mystery than the sand is why you’re here.”

Goro gave you the most confused and agitated look. “What?”

You shrugged at him. “I don’t know! Seems like a merman like you would have better things to do than stalk around this island, scaring travelers and making extra work for the beach keepers.”

He narrowed his eyes upon you. “These are my home waters. You and your kind are the ones trespassing, if anything.”

“And that may be true. But where are the others?” You motioned out towards the ocean. “If we are such a problem, how come you’re the only one making noise about it?” The ocean lapped quietly at the shore.

Scoffing, Goro rose up. “Noise wouldn’t even begin to describe what I could do.”

You just kept your eyes locked upon him as he slithered down the beach towards the water.

“Maybe one day, you’ll see!” Goro splashed into the ocean, vanishing under the waves that were shaded pink by the sky.

You let out a long sigh before Nara, a kobold whose family made their money by selling the sands, came walking out. Her family was who hired you and all the beach keepers before you.

“Good morning!” She sang.

“Good morning,” you grumbled.

“How is Goro?” Nara knelt down on the sands, drawing a symbol upon it before kneeling her head down to pray over it.

You pouted slightly. “I honestly don’t know.”

Nara rose back up and began using a special scoop to fill her dried gourd. “We used to play together as kids, you know?”

“You never told me that.”

“I suppose we don’t get to talk much outside of business things.” She filled her gourd then stood with it, holding it by the weaved handle. “He’s the only male of his colony, so he’s sent away a lot.”

You furrowed your brow. “How come?”

“To find gifts,” he answered. “That’s why he comes to the beach all the time.”

Well, that answered a question or two. “Is that why he is such a pest?” You followed Nara along the beach towards her family’s home and workshop.

“I know I warned you that he could be a lot to handle. Has he been causing any trouble lately?” She asked.

“Scaring travelers,” you muttered.

Nara’s brow knit together and she hummed.

“What?”

Nara shook her head. “That’s rather well behaved for Goro. Is that really all he is doing? He’s not chasing away? Throwing fish? Tying people’s feet together with kelp?”

You made a face. “No! He’s done that?”

“He dragged the last beach keeper into the ocean one time.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “He really put the last one through some things.”

You were a bit shocked. Goro had never behaved like that towards you. Sure he was annoying, but that was the extent of it.

“If you like it here though, we wouldn't mind keeping you on through the cold season.” Nara walked up the stairs to the workshop.

“Really? I thought the beach was closed.”

“It does.” Nara led you inside where he mother and father were bickering over something, laughing while they did. “But you’re trained in potion making and apothecary stuff right?”

You nodded, instantly greeted with a warm beverage from Nara’s sister.

“We’ve been wanting to expand our business for some time, but we’ve not come across anyone with your expertise.”

You were flattered! “I wouldn’t call myself that,” you laughed shyly.

Nara’s smile brightened. “Think about it. I know you have that study in Rakshasa Country. Trust me, I’d rather spend the cold days there than here. But if you did, there’s a lot we’d love to discuss with you.”

“The study is for just a month,” you murmured. “Maybe I could come back early once it’s complete. Then I could have my own ideas based on what I’ve learned there.”

“We can discuss it further!” Nara cheered. “That sounds like a perfect idea. Get a break from the beach, become inspired.”

You were…relieved? Strange. You would think you’d be eager to leave the island. But over the last couple of months, it’s become a home. Even after you were outcast from the best job you ever had. Maybe that job wasn’t so great?

That evening you went out to check the traps to get something for dinner. That’s where you noticed the trap was ripped to shreds.

“Ugh! Goro.”

“You called?”

Above you on the beach, Goro was laid out flat atop high dune.

“Did you destroy my trap? What am I supposed to do for dinner?” You chucked the wrecked heap onto the ground.

Goro rolled over onto his stomach then propped himself up on his elbows. “It’s not like you caught anything.”

“Well, now I have to fish!” You scoffed.

“Or you could ask nicely.”

Your hand went to your waist. “Ask nicely for what?”

Goro smirked. “For me to feed you? I can find you something really good. You’re not exactly good at catching the delicious parts of the ocean.”

You frowned and avoided his gaze. True. You’d either lived off fish or the kindness of Nara’s family during your stay here.

“Ask. Me. Nicely.” Goro punctuated.

It was either that for fish, and you hated fishing. You let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine.”

“Nicely,” Goro let the word slither from his lips.

You took a deep breath. “Would you please catch me something for dinner?”

Goro sat up on the dune. “Of course.” he leapt off it, splashing into the water and vanishing into the depths.

What was keeping you from believing he was tricking you? You’re not sure, but you stayed on the beach waiting for him anyways. Sitting there, you watched the ocean lap at the shore, the colors of the sun fading into the distant waters.

Then, Goro’s dark head popped up out of the water. He remained still there for a long while, his eyes watching you from behind the black drapes around his head. You stared back, slowly moving from sitting to standing to approach the water.

Suddenly, Goro whipped something from the water and towards you. You dodged, getting out of the way of whatever he threw at you. You gawk back at him, shocked by the sudden retaliation.

“What the hell was that?” You snapped.

Goro was laughing as he came closer to shore. “Keep you on your toes! That’s what.” He crawled to shore, a couple of things tucked under his arm. “Look.” He pointed back.

You turned, seeing what he threw to you laying on the sands. You looked back at him, grimacing before going towards it. It was a roundish shape, a little bit bigger than a small stone. You dusted the sand off, seeing it was a massive pearl. Your jaw dropped.

“See there? I can be nice. You humans like those things, right?” He chomped into a fish. “I love biting the heads off first,” he said between chews.

You rolled the large pearl around, thinking about the fortune in the center of your palm. You could sell this thing in Rakshasa Country for enough money to start your own apothecary anywhere in the Ruby Empire! Glancing back towards Goro, munching on his fish, you couldn’t decide why he would give you this.

“Here,” He wagged a bundle of lobsters at you. “I promised food. I got you food.”

“Thanks.” You slowly approached him again, taking the bounty from his clutches. “Why did you give me this?” You extended the pearl towards him.

Goro shrugged, giving you a curled up lip in reply. “I saw it, and the green in it made me think of you.”

This took you back for a moment. It was a heart skipping moment.

“Don’t act so shocked or anything.” he extended out his hand to you, curling up his long fingers. “Give it back. I chuck it to the depth I found it.”

The pearl became clutched to your chest. “No. I like it.”

“Then good.” A smirk crawled across his face. “Glad to hear it.”

It was a strange smile, one you hadn’t seen from him. It wasn’t one from the joy he got scaring travelers on the beach, or one of boyish pride. It was different, happy, hopeful.

“You should go cook those. They’re best when fresh.” he then shrugged. “So I’ve heard.” he bit into his fish again.

“Yeah,” you’re still unsure of how to respond to him now. “They are.”

Goro licked across his teeth, smacking it. “I guess it’ll be the end of the season soon. You must be excited to get off this island,” he said with a sort of forced laugh.

“Kind of,” you answered. “I have a study lined up in Rakshasa Country. I was going to take some of my studies on the sands to the professors there and see what they thought.”

Goro’s lip curled again. “I’ve never been much of anywhere.”

“Why not?”

His eyes flicked back towards you and he scoffed. “Where else would I go? This island, these waters-” his eyes became distant as he stared out over the water. “I like it well enough. Besides, who else would want me?”

“Oh, I dunno, depends on what you’re looking for.” You sat down beside him in the sand, setting the lobsters aside. You looked at the pearl, seeing the slight green reflection it gave. “I’m sure you could woo a beautiful princess or two.”

“A handsome knight, a powerful dragon, maybe a warlock and witch couple.” Goro stretched his long arms out behind himself and leaned back. “I know I could have anyone I set my eyes on. That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” You smiled.

Laughing, Goro stuck his tongue out. “Are you dumb? What else would keep me here? You’re a smart lot, you study, you perform your mad experiments. What would keep you home for so long if you had to?”

You thought of your childhood home. “Well, my family.”

Goro pointed with his tail to the ocean. “Exactly. I have family out there counting on me. I have a job to do here for them, and just so you know, I like doing that job.”

“Who's your family?” You asked.

Goro snorted. “Bunch of chattery women like you.”

Your smile grew brighter. “Do you have sisters?”

“Several.” he sighed and leaned back again. “I was the only one to survive my mother’s first clutch so-” His voice trailed off.

Your smile faded. “Oh? What happened?”

He was scowling, but trying not to let it grow. “My father ate them. Afraid there would be a son.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

“Yeah, oh!” He sneered at you then broke into a big smile. “But I proved his point when I grew.” He laughed. “Oh man, did I show him.”

You looked down then back out over the ocean.

“What about you?”

“I never fought my father,” you replied.

He gently smacked your arm with a chuckle. “No, idiot. Do you have any siblings?”

You shook your head. “No. I was an only child back home. I had lots of cousins and extended family though. The whole village was like a family.”

“Do you miss it?”

A surprising question. “Of course.” You looked back at him to assess his expression. It was soft, another surprise. “Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason.” he then pointed beyond you. “Your dinner is getting away.”

You watched just as your lobsters crawled back into the ocean. You laughed, cupping your hand around your mouth.

“I’ll go get them.” You stopped Goro by putting your hand over his.

You were laughing harder. “No! It's quite alright! Let them go, they earned it.”

Goro eased back, watching your hand touching his. A softer smile appeared on his lips, and he turned his palm so it was like you were holding hands.

Soon, the day came that Nara and her family were shutting off the beach to travelers. The waters were becoming too cold, and soon, wind and ice would replace the balmy breezes and sunny skies.

Packing up, you decided to leave your lab in the basement. After all, you would come back after your study. Sure, you could sell that pearl and use it to open an apothecary of your very own. But the idea of working here on the island sounded right.

There was a tapping on the window. As you were walking it towards it, it opened and a large conch shell was flung inside. It bounced off your bed and to the floor with a loud clatter.

Goro appeared in the window grinning. “Something to remember me by.” He hefted himself up, crawling inside.

“I think I have enough to remember you by.” You huffed as you picked up the conch. “Since when could you crawl up here?”

“Oh always,” he snickered as he lounged luxuriously on your bed. “I just didn’t want you thinking you could command me to spend time with you whenever you wanted.”

“Oh sure.” You set the conch down on the table.

“Will they be finding a new beach keeper?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m coming back here. So get used to that idea.”

“I just might.” Goro snuggled to your pillow, breathing in deep.

You leaned over top of him while he had his face buried in the pillow. “Are you going to miss me?”

Goro jerked, looking up at you over top of him. His surprised stare turned into a vicious glare.

“I think you are.” It was your turn to tease him, and you were going to take this perfect opportunity. You sat down on the bed so he had no way to escape. “I have reasons to believe it might be a little bit more than that.”

“Don’t go and think so highly of yourself,” he sneered.

You smirked. “You don’t like me then?”

“That’s-” Goro held his tongue. “Get back.” He pushed his hand against your shoulder. “I’m warning you. These teeth of mine can rip apart more than just fish!”

“I’m sure.” You dipped down, giving him a small, soft kiss. One you meant to be playful. But Goro’s hand on your shoulder grabbed your clothes, pulling you in, making the kiss something more, something deeper.

You whimpered, but you didn’t fight.

Goro was the one that released you, pushing you back a bit. “If you’re going to do that then you might as well mean it.”

Your face was flushed, and Goro’s eyes were completely black.

Goro’s hand then completely covered your face. “Humans.” He pushed you back so he could sit up. “You think you know everything.” He put his arms around you, rubbing his neck against yours. “This is how we sea folk do it.” His gills ruffled against your skin, tickling you in a way that sent shivers through your whole back. He then bit your shoulder and your body responded in such a visceral way you lost your breath.

A laugh entered your ear. “If you want to know the secrets of the sands, you’ll have to come back to me,” he whispered seductively. “I’ll only tell you then.”

Locking eyes with him he then butt his head against your forehead. “Promise,” he breathed.

You placed your hand upon his cheek. “I’m coming back.”

“Good.” Goro bit your shoulder, but this wasn’t like all those times before. His breath hitched and his lips trailed against the skin ever so slightly. A tickle went up the back of your neck as his tongue gently brushed against you. “I’ll find you if you’re lying to me.” He bared his teeth to you then left back through the window.

Catching your breath, you realized your nipples were completely solid and your heart was fluttering like the wing of a hummingbird.

In Rakshasa Country, you began your class and took great interest in the study. You even presented your studies on the healing sands to your professors, who decided to take time to study it with the class. Theories were presented onto its healing capabilities, but nothing sounded right to you.

“We would like you to stay on and take on an internship here,” one of your professor’s offered. “I think you could accomplish great things here.”

It was a dream come true for you, a great offer. But it didn’t feel right. “I’m sorry,” you replied, hating to let her down. “But I have a job offer back at the island. I already accepted it.”

She smiled. “I understand. I would much rather work on a beautiful island than here any day. Besides, you can always report your studies and findings on the sands back to me. I’m fascinated by your research.”

You were relieved she was taking it well. “I’ll report back as much as I can.”

“We can still work together then.”

You went back to the island when Nara’s brothers came to deliver sand. You met them at the port, helping them to load supplies and food onto the little ship. They had ordered so much to make it through the worst parts of winter you had to sleep around the cargo.

The ship got in late one evening, and it was later still after unloading everything. You passed out with Nara in her bed, making it home after her family fed you a huge breakfast. Once done, you trudged across the beach with your bag towards the lighthouse.

“You’re back!”

You didn’t have time to react before Goro clobbered you on the beach. You hit the sands and he crawled up your body.

“It’s not even spring! What are you doing here?” He clutched your face. “It’s really you! It is!” He was beaming, eyes wide, teeth fully showing.

“My class ended,” you managed to speak. “They invited me back to start an apothecary business with them.”

Goro rubbed his neck against yours instantly, sighing breathily as he did. Your skin shivered and your body responded in kind to his touch. You stroked up his back, touching the nape of his neck. Something prodded at your hip.

“It’s cold out here,” you whispered.

“You warm blooded creatures,” he snarled. “I want you here and now.”

“Goro,” you whimpered. “I don’t think we-” Your voice choked out as he bit your shoulder. “Wait!”

Your loud outburst made Goro raise up. “You don’t have to yell,” he pouted.

You caught your breath and sat up to look him in the eye. “I’m not going to have much fun cold. And I certainly don’t want sand in my nethers.”

Goro’s lip curled. “Fine!”

You made your way back to the lighthouse where you got a fire going and lit a candle for some light. Goro was waiting on the bed, stroking one of his cocks in his hand. The other quivered at the brush of his knuckles until he switched to it. They were extremely hard and pitch black with a line of white going down the back side where there were linear bumps to the sheath.

“You like me more than I thought,” you said teasingly as you let your hair down.

His eyes followed your curls as they touched against your neck. “You don’t seem shocked.”

“I’m not.” You began working on the buttons on your clothes. “Nara told me you had a thing for humans.” You smirked. Nara didn’t say that exactly but you were hoping to catch a reaction from him for once.

Goro scowled.

You dropped your tunic then pulled up your underclothes, revealing your breasts to him. His eyes widened and he held his breath in anticipation. His fists grabbed tightly around both of his shafts.

“Have you had many humans?” You said with a smirk.

He sneered at you. “Does it matter?”

“No,” you chuckled. “Just wondering what experience you have in pleasuring them.” You stood naked before him then, stroking your hand down your belly and towards your loins.

Goro’s long, dark tongue traveled across his lips. “A sailor here, a sailor there.” He then grinned. “What experience do you have in pleasuring merfolk?”

Smirking, you put your hands upon your hips. “None.”

“Then I guess I’m taking the lead, just to make sure we both have fun.” He held his hand out to you. “Come here. Now!”

“Demanding.” You crawled into his lap, kissing him softly before his teeth came out. He bit your lip, your chin, your neck. He lowered his head down, biting upon the soft flesh of your breasts before breathing upon your nipple. He bit it then nuzzled between your soft bosom.

“I love these,” he moaned. “We don’t have these below the waves.”

His cocks were grinding up against your ass, slippery, extremely hard. They throbbed as his mouth sunk over a breast, suckling the nipple and playing with it on his tongue. You whimpered, grasping his head as the sensations radiated through your body.

Goro chuckled as his fingers went between your cheeks and to your mound. “Wet already.” He rolled you over, hiking your hips up into the air. “Fuck,” he growled, spreading you out and watching you. “Don’t have these either.” His cocks slid up your thigh, rubbing against you until one slipped along your cunt.

“Then what do you have?” You moaned.

“I don’t want to talk about that now. I don’t even want to talk.” The pressure at your entrance, the slight tension of him hesitating. “I want to know how warm you are.” He was inside, deep and hard. He felt like a toy made of glass you once had.

Goro quivered, holding his breath as he lingered inside. He seemed to be memorizing and studying you.

“Goro?” You wanted to make sure he was still with you.

“Just a second,” he whined. “This is why I love humans,” he said in jubilation. He began to move, bucking, thrusting. You cried out, grasping tight onto the sheets. He rammed harder into you, deeper than anyone had reached. He was snarling, growling. He then bit onto your neck, snarling and licking. The sharpness of his teeth added to your pleasure deeply.

“So good. So warm!” Goro cried out. “Wet! Wet!”

You were whimpering, trying to focus on just one sensation, but there were too many. Your head was spinning.

There came a moment where Goro pulled from you and tossed you over. He pressed his cock to your lips, making you suck him. “This is the secret,” he chuckled darkly. “Take it directly from the source.”

He filled your mouth and throat, he went deeper, making you almost choke. It was slightly sweet and very salty. He pulled out, letting his other cock spurt across your face and down your chest.

You swallowed, coughing from the sheer amount he left.

Goro chuckled, still stroking himself as he watched you below him. “Do you feel it yet?” He leaned over you, licking some of his cum from your cheek. His fingers sunk back into you, making you tremble.

There certainly was warmth. It started on your tongue and down your throat. Aches in your body seemed to fade away. There was a lightness to your limbs, a newness you hadn’t felt. There was a flare of energy you thought would take weeks to recover from your journey. Goro’s fingers found a spot inside you that made you cry out.

“There it is. Feel it?” He chuckled. He kept going until it was like you would levitate off the bed.

Even after all that, your stamina hadn’t faded. You laid with Goro, kissing and slowly rubbing together. He was inside you, moving at a purposefully slow pace. He was smirking, proud of his work.

“Taking my time now that I have you,” he whispered.

“It’s nice.” Your arms were wrapped around him.

“If you’d like, I bet I could fill one of your bottles over there so you can study it,” he teased.

You kissed him to make him go quiet. “I think I know where I can get it fresh when I need it.”

Goro chuckled proudly. “That’s not even the most potent thing about us. Mm-” he moaned and stilled to savor the deep unending feeling. “It’s everything about us. Our scales, our eyes, our bones. Generations of us supply this beach with it’s healing properties.”

“Then why not share?”

“We do! We allow you to use this beach.” His eyes fluttered as he moved again inside. “We use what we have now for us. I’m giving you this because I want you. During the spring, you might only receive it once.”

“Why?”

“Because, I have to help fertilize the clutches.” He kissed you softly. “Silly human.”

“So you’re a father?” You teased him.

He shrugged. “Not really. It’s a lot to explain. Right now, I just want to explore.”

call him bubonic the way he plagues me

Conversation that Tumblr is not ready for:

A Vampire's fangs are also it's reproductive organs

Pagination for your likes is back!

…if only in a more annoying way, but still. Here’s an explanation.

Okay. So. With the old desktop Tumblr, you could browse your likes by entering a page number. Super simple. With the new dash, pagination disappeared. Without pagination, there’s no way to get into your likes except by starting at the most recent. And if you’re like me and have several thousand likes dating back years, that isn’t going to work.

Pagination is now back but now it looks like this: https://www.tumblr.com/likes?before=1590290753

That bolded number at the end is now a Unix timestamp, so that URL would show you your likes starting right before May 24, 2020 @ 3:25am (UTC). Use a Unix timestamp generator/converter to get the number for the date you want, and just use that URL with the Unix time you want.

You can google “Unix timestamp” or “Unix time converter;” based on my 5 minutes of testing I like EpochConverter.com* because it has a pre-filled human date which means less typing of minutes and seconds for me, but there’s a bunch of others.

Side note: you do not need to have endless scrolling disabled for this to work, you can copy and paste the URL above. (But if you wanna disable endless scrolling, Settings > Dashboard > make sure “Enable endless scrolling” is turned off)

Other side note: as I type (July 2020), pagination is back only for likes, not for the main dash yet.

(Update: pagination for your dash is back in 2021, but it uses Unix timestamps that go to the nanosecond or something and I can’t consistently generate a date and jump to it like I can for likes. My best suggestion is to disable endless scrolling so your dash will have pages, and that should make it easier for you to keep your place if you’ve got a lot to go through.)

*Not actually linking in this post since Tumblr tends to hide posts with external links