#crunchy curly

[npc5455]

《I'm being so fr art is coming i promise I just need to get my hmwrk done y'all I'm so behind :') 》~☆

《For now enjoy mouthwashing whiteboard drawings》~☆

[vanderbilt-draws]

one of the dimmadomes with curly hair?

beautiful cats with homophobia 💕💞/ref

also minor rant abt the dimmadomes having super curly hair: hi, hello, white dude with very curly hair here, idk abt yall but ive TRIED to get my hair to slick back like dale and devs for formal events before and it DOES NOT DO THAT WITHOUT A BOATLOAD OF GEL. to get my hair to look even partially as neat as theirs i had to essentially glue my hair down AND THEYRE GETTING OFF HELICOPTERS AND WEARING HATS/HEADPHONES AND RUNNING AROUND WITHOUT A SINGLE CURL POPPING OUT LIKE OUGH ik its just bc they prob didnt wanna have to sculpt or animate that but im begging the writers that if they get s2 and ever make an episode abt/involving the dimmadomes having naturally curly hair (bc yk dale literally canonically has curly hair even if dev doesnt) they MAKE SOME SORT OF ACKNOWLEDGEMENT ABOUT THE SHEER AMOUNT OF PRODUCT IT TAKES TO GET CURLY HAIR TO SLICK BACK LIKE THAT. LIKE HTAT SHIT HAS TO BE CRUNCHY AF. YOU TRY TO RUN A COMB THROUGH THEIR HAIR AND IT WILL JUST BOUNCE RIGHT OFF

[lalaland-e]

Wait, wait, wait, have I actually introduced my audience of two people to Louise before her traumatized not actually her biological son because they are both part of the G.I.F,T.E.D.S program and can't remember their actual family son, Andrew?

Meh, I don't actually care. But just saying, Andrew is a traumatized male character with family issues, a love for dogs, and two different coloured eyes sooooooo...

[lovaboy]

sensory issues and body dysmorphia is such a dangerous combination bc some days when i’m at home and my hair is up and i’m wearing a nice little outfit i’m like :) this is great! and then some days i try to do something with my hair but get so annoyed that i wash it instead to reset but then i have to deal with wet hair on my neck and shoulders because i hate blow drying but letting it air dry means it might look bad later while i’m out of the house and then i start fantasizing abt cutting it real short so none of this matters etc etc etc and then my hair dries and i find something acceptable to wear and i’m like oh. i’m fine actually. never mind.

[the-fairy-dogmother]

find u someone who looks at u the way π looks at me when I am not sharing my fries.

[gemmahale]

Hey Gemma, 2009 called. They want their flat bangs and crunchy curls back.

[brineable]

Made a gif version of the redraw! It is a bit crunchy due to the 10MB gif limit though, lol. (If it has trouble loading, there's a looped video version on my instagram account if you want to see what it might look like.)

Mouthwashing x perfect blue

[baekuras]

Anyhow in my hair journey we have now reached the stage where my coworker says I should get a 'good cut' Considering neither layering nor just basic straight hair nor soft A line bob nor straight fringe nor curtain bangs were a 'good cut' i think he just rly wants me to be bald at this point

[curlyfriesgalore]

curly can't sing.

as the title says, it's a headcanon i randomly had when playing my mouthwashing sims 4 household (lol), where swansea and curly went karaoke-ing at 'waterside warble' in san myshuno. curly sang horrendously since he just gained the skill. though, it made me think, how funny would it be if curly genuinely couldn't sing for shit?

it's the one thing jimmy has leverage over (he's no better, really), and curly is painfully aware of his tone-deafness, so he never reveals it unless it's for a special occasion... with an extra special someone there to watch him perform (miserably).

that being said, daisuke suggested the crew do something fun to celebrate the completion of their shipment, so why not do some karaoke?

★ a sfw one-shot broken down into bullets with chat-format segments for dialogue. fair warning, there are a few suggestive moments, but the implications aren't overt. [2,817 words]

☆ gen tags: set in 2005. gn! reader who is a doctor and a great singer. none of the game's events happen, so they're just a bunch of folks doing regular space deliveries, but jimmy is still an unpleasant ass that gets on the reader's nerves. reader and curly are crushing on each other (they're on the brink of knowing it's reciprocal). manfailure curly but he's trying his best... whatever that best is (lmfao, accurate to canon 😭). curly -> grant (name switch at some point in the fic). there's one moment where curly and reader share a glass, so just letting you know in case you're not a fan of that :)

[i'm still on break, but i wanted to write something more concise and improvised in under a day! and i won't lie, i find fics including everyone to be so fun to write. i really love testing out my characterizations of the crew and have them interact in relaxed scenarios. art by kafukafukadayo on twt. —iris🌠]

while you bask in the dim hues of red lights, the instrumental of an electropop softens into silence as it tandems with your pants. when you peel your eyes open, everyone's gaping their mouths and raising their brows—even jimmy, ever the unimpressed, is surprisingly taken aback, and you're taken aback by that alone.

daisuke springs from the leather sofa. he bounds towards you, grips both your shoulders, and shakes you senselessly, his hand still somehow clutching his open flip phone.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"doc, that... was... INSANE!" he jostles your body back and forth between his pauses, swaying you with all his might as he nearly forces the microphone to drop out your hand. daisuke swishes his head, finally letting you go, "wh—buh?! how do you—are you imogen heap reincarnated?!"

anya snorts, sounding like a stuffed trumpet. "dai, imogen's alive! she's only 27." swansea follows suit, his deep chuckle rumbling through his belly, crossed arms resting atop. "pfft, that's far from dead."

daisuke rolls his eyes away from the two, "tch, you get what i mean! like, look—!" he speedily dials the buttons on his phone, opening his gallery and brandishing a pixelated clip of you singing along to the mbira melody and string bass beats, the crunchy electronic syncs with your ethereal mezzo-soprano. daisuke snaps the phone shut with his palm, raising his free hand in surrender. "if that's not the lead singer of frou frou, then i don't know who is." he takes the remote, looking through what next to sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

amid the nurse, mechanic, and intern belting their lungs out to "hey ya!" curly sits, and you stand before him. his ocean eyes swim in awe as he cranes his neck to face you. you're glowing. your head perfectly aligns right in front of the carmine light; its luminescence filters around your shadowed outline, like you were some angel graced from above with an even more angelic voice to come with. it was sort of comical how the largest man in the room felt so small beneath your presence.

there's a dew of sweat hanging below your bottom lip, and curly can't help but bite his. that is until he slips his teeth back in when you cushion yourself onto the couch, spreading your legs wide with an arm lounging on the headrest behind him. curly huffed a laugh and leaned into the shiny sofa, letting his scalp fall onto your forearm.

even with your tongue tucked inside your parted lips, curly could practically see your papillae beg for freshness. he smiles, momentarily stretching his back away from the couch to grab your drink and hands it to you. a raspy thanks escape your parched throat.

your neck bobs with every gulp, drinking like it's the last you'll ever taste water. curly tries his hardest not to let his gaze linger longer than it should, but the way your head tilts back and your hand grips the glass, he can't help but swallow some of that imaginary water himself.

a contented sigh leaves you. you flick your eyes to him and just about see the last of his adam's apple slurp up nothing. you gesture the drink, asking if he wants it. curly is briefly hesitant until he turns to see his empty cup and shrugs, "sure, why not?"

as curly takes his sip, he notices the beaded sweat shining on your lip more notably than before. his brows raise ever so subtly, ruminating his next moves. when you still fail to realize the wetness glistening at your mouth's rim, he pulls the drink away from himself.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, can i...?"

your eyes widen softly as you watch his thumb inch toward your jaw. you flick your view down, puffing out your lower lip to see a dab of sweat cling onto you for dear life. you look back at him and nod. curly gently takes a hold of your chin, thumbing the sudor away while his remaining fingers brush against your neck. you take in the moment, eyes half-lidded and lips ever so parted. he wasn't glancing at you, but you could tell he wanted to, for his warm breath quiets the longer you study him—noticing the way his tongue peeks out his mouth or how his golden greying hair falls over the wrinkles etched into his temple. "you know," moments before he drops his hand, he finally manages to look you in the eye, your faces merely inches apart. "your performance really gave me chills." you smirked, "is that why you didn't speak up?" your tease brought curly to a laugh, the bass in his voice strong. "i can't help but be mesmerized when that's how you sing, doc."

you hummed a titter, nodding to yourself as you thanked him with a delicate smile. "you can drop the formalities, grant. we're at a karaoke bar, not the tulpar."

whether or not you noticed the hitch in his breath, grant softened upon hearing his first name, oftentimes forgetting that's who he actually is. his head tilts down, blithely sighing before picking himself up to show you his grin, "okay, okay..." he momentarily chuckles, now resting his elbow on the headrest, propping it up, and leaning onto his knuckles next to your arm still lying there. "well, my point still stands. you have an incredibly captivating voice, y/n." "oh, stop it...!" you both become a blushing, giggling mess. your other hand finds its way to rest on your knee, which sits right against grant's. as you speak about your singing history, grant brings his free palm to his thigh, pretending to unintentionally graze his calloused fingers against your nails. he listens intently to how you'd belt out your favorite songs on repeat, albeit the sound of daisuke and anya screaming, "HEEEY YAAA!" and the tidbits of exhaustion lingering in his mind make your words muffle into incoherent jargon.

"but enough about me, i wanna hear you." you catch his eyes snapping away from both his and your legs smushing together, hoping you don't notice the blankness in his brain. "or are you just charming me to stall your big reveal, hm?"

grant's jaw falls, and utterances of filler words filter out his mouth, but before he can respond, daisuke catches wind of their conversation as outkast's song dies down in the background.

"oh, yeah!" daisuke takes a swig of his soda. after a sigh of satisfaction and couple of lip smacks, daisuke leaps from his end of the couch and motions to the two, microphone in hand. "it's your turn to solo, captain!"

"uhh, i don't know if i should..." grant sheepishly waves the mic away, his eyes shifting between everyone's expressions. daisuke is pouting and pleading with puppy eyes. anya just gives him a thumbs-up and a classic comforting smile. swansea is indifferent. jimmy, who's been leaning against the palm tree printed wall for the past four songs, beer in hand, grows an all-too-familiar smirk. then there's you, expectantly looking at him with overlaid eyes he wishes to see in a different setting... that of his bedroom—

"aww, why not, curl? we've done our parts. 's only fair you do yours, too." jimmy's tone was far from welcoming, sounding more like a jab than anything. you narrowed your sights at him, "didn't you only sing in the group ones?" jimmy shrugs. "look," after taking another chug of his can, raising his hands in defeat. "my karaoke quota's been filled. sorry." you simply roll your eyes. before the tension thickens, daisuke interjects, "ah, don't worry, cap. i bet your voice sounds super cool, like superhero cool! you've got that gruffness that swan's got... but y'know... less croaky n' stuff!" "'scuze me?" swansea lifts a single brow, anya stifles a laugh, and daisuke flails his hands in defense, "eh- i mean it as a compliment! you've got a sick voice, swansea." "emphasis on sick..." anya cheekily comments under her breath, and for the first time in forever, swansea's jaw drops. he coughs out a laugh that's been lodged in his throat for god knows how long and shakes his head, pointing his thumb at the giggling woman. "wowww, aren't you, the nurse, supposed to be fixing that?" anya nods to you, "only under doctor's orders." the two have a back and forth, but daisuke still stands in front of grant, intent on lending the mic to the man.

"i—okay..." grant crumbles under the pressure, caving in when you whisper a couple of encouragements. daisuke cheers, anya claps, swansea bobs his head in support, jimmy fakes a whoop, and you—genuinely—hype him up with a holler.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

grant purses his lip as he presses the buttons on the remote while daisuke guides him through the songs on the screen.

jimmy leaves his spot, his boot denting a scuff mark on the wallpaper. your nose flares, watching him carelessly toss the can into the bin as he makes his way to sandwich you between him and swansea, purposefully maximizing the width of how far he can stretch his legs.

you ignore him, opting to watch someone much cuter. grant turns to you, awkwardly smiling as you return a thumbs-up. he focuses back on daisuke, who's now raving over a song he definitely thinks grant should sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you know he's shit, right?" your brows contort into a furrow, still not looking at the man. "the fuck you mean?" you never had much patience for jimmy, of all people, so your courtesies never fail to fall short with him. "you know who i mean—him." jimmy gestures to grant, pointer finger flicking at the blond. "no shit, sherlock. i'm saying, what are you specifically referring to?" "obviously, his voice, sherlock." he drawls the two syllables, the stench of yeast and malt oozing out of his mouth and into your unfortunate nose. "he'll make your ears bleed, trust me." finally, you face him and stare at jimmy's smugness with an incredulous squint. seriously, how the fuck does grant put up with him? you couldn't even stand the guy's presence, let alone his incessant insults on grant himself. "do you do anything but complain?" you sneer. "nope." jimmy curtly replies, mouthing a pop after the 'p' as he claws a hand over the chips bowl, stuffing his face with grease. at this point, you weren't sure if you should stay annoyed or be slightly impressed with his sheer ability to find the worst in everything. "some fucking friend..." you say to yourself, already past the point of defeat. with his mouth still full of food, jimmy responds, "hey, as his friend, i'm actively warning you. i've known this guy long enough to be there for his first choir class." "whatever, we'll see." you huffed, relaxing on the couch, sitting much closer to swansea than the other. "it's not like you've got much credibility, anyway." you think back to moments ago, whenever it was jimmy's turn to sing his parts, his half-assed attempts barely constitutes as a grumble. jimmy snickers, "who says i'm denying that? just 'cause i don't care doesn't mean i'm wrong."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you have never been more relieved to hear a soft pop interlude, forcing the conversation to a close.

daisuke flops onto the sofa next to anya and flips open his phone, pressing record as the tv flashes the music video to "shape of my heart." you lean behind swansea and lock eyes with daisuke, who abashedly giggles when you mouth, 'you chose this, didn't you?' to which he nods excitedly.

ah, daisuke, ever the avid backstreet boys fanatic.

your eyes fall back to grant. the man fidgets with his microphone, and his shoe frantically taps to the beat, pursing his lips into a tight smile in hopes it will clench down the shivers rising with the guitar strums. you silently cheer him on when he starts humming, following the yellow highlight filling up the white text reading ♪ yeah, yeah ♪, and—

oh!

...oh

oh, god.

jimmy... wasn't wrong, far from it, actually—as much as it pains you to admit.

the very moment grant hits that ♪ baby ♪, it's all downhill from here. it's as if his pitch took a trip to six flags. his questionably paced breaths mimic a ride with an unnecessary amount of loop-the-loops, and his tone flip-flops between a coarse rasp and an oddly airy twang, like a reverse bungee slingshotting into the air.

grant's eyes squeeze shut, facing away from the crew. either he was incredibly invested or excruciatingly embarrassed, and with how he was really getting into that chorus, nobody could tell. he only ever peeks to look at you, though, clearly awaiting your approval, to whom you always beam, your face mixed in pity and affection.

as much as he sounded like a crow was clawing its way out of his esophagus, you couldn't help but find his attempts to be really wholesome. maybe it's your pre-existing bias, and maybe it's because this feels like he's serenading every line at you, but it's hard not to fall for this vocal failure of a man—even though everyone else's expressions say otherwise.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"told you so," jimmy taunts in your ear, sickeningly chuckling at grant without hesitation. "woo! curly, you go, dude!" he cheers, voice dipped in mockery. all you do is click your tongue and face the others, choosing to listen in on anya and swansea. "you sure i'm the one that's 'sick'?" swansea jokes, albeit laced with genuine disgust. he leans to you, whispering the same revulsion, "you both need to rethink your careers."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya simply grimaces, trying her hardest to make it look like a grin, but her knit brows and frown give way.

daisuke's eyes say everything. they're wide, and his pupils constrict like he's a cartoon. his hand hesitantly grips onto his flip phone, unsure if he should keep the camera going. as his leg rapidly bounces and his teeth bite down on his paint-chipped nails, his gaze slowly turns away from grant's caterwauling and towards the rest of the crew.

moreover, you're just as guilty. although you're not irked by this newfound fact, a wince washes over you the moment you are out of grant's sights.

suddenly, after the first chorus, the song reveals a blue highlight painting the white text. grant falters, his voice shrinking when he sees the two primary colors play different lyrics simultaneously. everyone takes notice, their faces easing from cringe to confusion. then it clicks.

this was a duet.

daisuke palms his face with a slap—that's his bad. you skim the room, and everyone's exchanging glances, implicitly questioning who'll aid their poor captain.

without hesitation, you jump to the rescue. snatching a mic from the coffee table and quickly singing your parts, striding your way towards grant, who immediately picks up where he's left off, still shrill as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

♪ i'M hEre WIDTH myYy...! confEh shion ♪, in a sheer attempt at confidence, grant belts his lyrics. his dimples dig into his smile, sending you the much-needed energy to sing your lines. ♪ got nothing to hide no more ♪. you sway your head in accordance with the melody, ball up your fist, and let your fingers spread far and wide, wiping the air as you and grant's steps magnetize toward each other. ♪ i don't kNOw whe...rE to st-art ♪; warbling his words, grant's gaze softens when you're within arms reach. he lowers his neck, brings the mic close to his lips, and grazes your forearm, wishing he could feel the flush skin of your waist and reel you in. ♪ but to show you... ♪, as both lyrics meld into one, you take his hand into yours. ♪...the shA-pe of mY hEart ♪

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke bursts into song, singing the first line of the last verse, startling everyone in the process. anya joins in, now standing with daisuke as both pull swansea to his feet. the mechanic begrudgingly croons along to his intern's baritone and his nurse's soprano.

daisuke beckons for jimmy to come with him, but in classic jimmy zare fashion, he remains stagnant. the younger man frowns. though, he quickly reminds himself that there are only five members in BSB, anyway. so daisuke hands jimmy his phone instead, telling the co-pilot to make sure that everyone's in frame.

they've turned this into a concert for a one-man audience, who's hating every second of it.

save for jimmy, currently grousing under his breath, the crew wraps their arms around each other's shoulders and chants their hearts out to the R&B melody.

as the track nears its final moments, you and grant rest your hands on each other's waists, pulling your bodies close as your head leans on his pec. neither of you realizes that you've left the other three, who are all too busy rocking side to side to notice the two of you in a side embrace, minds too carried away to feel jimmy's prickly leer.

[oh my god, i genuinely didn't even intend for this ending, but here we are 🥹! i hope you guys liked this, and if anyone has comments on how i wrote everyone's dialogue and mannerisms, like what worked, or if you have suggestions for any additions, please let me know! i still need to learn more about writing anya, since in canon, it's hard to get a read of her real personality through jimmy's lens. still, so far, i like to think she enjoys teasing people she's comfortable with. as for swansea, i'm trying to lean into his meanness more, but i'm saving most of that for a daisuke fic centered on swansea's pov, so we'll see what i do when i get there! —iris🌠]

[emichevy]

I love curly haired catholic mutants who SERVE the lord

My own take/version of Nightcrawler uwu I love playing with his design haha LEGS LEGS LESG WLSGE LEGS I love his legs

Hc that his hair is naturally very curly but he just gels/straightens the FUCK out of it like bro please your hair is crunchy it’s killing it let it free

[bowieandqueen11]

Zoro Falling In Love With You Would Include...

Request: I've been binge watching one piece this Friday night so I could appreciate your recent requests and finally send one in! Please can you write for Zoro falling in love? 🥹❤️ I know you would do it amazingly!

Yayayay I've been waiting to write something like this for Zoro, thank you lovely!!! I had WAY too much fun writing this one I am so sorry if I went overboard on the imagery but also sorry not sorry I want to press a thousand kisses over this beautiful man's face

Okay this actually took way too much time to write so comments are much much appreciated!!

Warning: slightly suggestive if you squint, mention of scratching/ injuries and sword fighting

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @starryyshadows.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Oh, mosshead. What a dopey ass himbo you are. Istg this m*therf*cker right here (affectionate) would be so god damn ANNOYING when he's in love. Forget about Zoro nearly grabbing Sanji by his curly brows and swinging him like a ragdoll over the railings any time his continuous nosebleeds drip into his sake. Zoro is just as bad, just a needle swung in the opposite direction; he grumbles around the ship like a mopey, exasperated crocodile, snapping at anyone who comes near him that isn't you.

He wasn't built for love; hellfire roared through his veins, ravishing every cell in his body until his teeth gritted and lips bled in his struggle for self-discipline. He was a predator; rampant, ravaging, resolved in his fortitude. So why? Oh god, why? Why did he feel like he was being torn apart? Ravished by teeth that left rupturing silver punctures in his lungs, shredded by claws that streamed blinding light through the chambers of his heart.

He had felt like that: bent over doubled, clutching his chest in pain when the two of you first met as teenagers. If it hadn't been pitiful enough that you had bested him during your first sparring match at the Shimotsuki Dojo, you had to rub salt into the wound by being kind to him afterwards. He had scoffed when you had thrown your helmet to the ground and held out your hand to him, a scowl cloaking his face and making his teeth grind as you offered him advice on how to perfect your technique. Yet all you had done in response to his slight was to smile: a smile so shining, so unjustly kindly, so prepossessing and beautiful that the swordsman froze in shock, a fleeting flash of pure light haloing his eyes.

He knew. He knew, right there and then. That you were the only thing in all of the seas that could stand in his way. In that moment, he had decided that he would like to live forever in that strand of light: that one that strayed through a gap between the oak leaves, straying past its dark, dense leaves, foraging past the crawling thickets to instead brush against the tip of your cheek.

'What does it matter anyway?', Zoro had glowered, refusing to look back at you again. 'It's not as if you're going to stick around. Once your gone, I'll be the best fighter here again.'

'I'm not going anywhere. Not until I defeat you ten more times, at least', you added, once you noticed him rolling your eyes. You held your hand out, and Zoro glanced down at your outreaching fingers warily. 'No matter where we are or what happens to us, I'll always be a better swordsman than you.' His lips finally curl up in a smile then as he reaches out to shake your hand, and the feeling sends a spark of something running down his fingertips. His whole body feels alight, and he spends the whole rest of the day clenching his fingers into his palm and trying desperately to relish the feeling.

Which is why, for a while, Zoro seems to go extra hard on you: calling you away after lessons for private sparring matches deep in the woods, where only the crunchy bark could hear your swift steps and the fine mist wrapped around the pale trees and sent a cold shake down your hilted hand. The only way to warm yourself up was to butt the edge of your sword against Zoro's flailing torso, shoving him back so you could use the leverage to pin his panting face up against the nearest tree trunk. This time, though - this time, you surprise him.

If he was disappointed in himself for losing again, it soon melted away by the feel of your torso pressing up against his heaving lungs. For a moment, his lips tighten into a thin line as sees your approaching forehead and believes you're straight up just going to headbutt his sorry ass. He jumps even more when your skin lands... softly? against the burning side of his temple. He can't seem able to find his breath, the world seeming to be frozen in glinting threads of light as you linger against the young demon. All that exists is the soft push of your nose against his fluttering shut eyelid. The warm puff of breath as you sigh against the shell of his ear. The light scrape of the bark against his back as he shivers. The sound of his own heart, his blood scorching through his veins and convulsing against the sharp cage of his ribs.

He's so hyperaware of his body tantalisingly close to yours; his stiff elbows lay drawn up by his side, his hands shaking almost imperceptibly as he spreads and flexes his fingers, slowly drawing them to hover around your back. He was still too afraid to touch you.

Too afraid of the fire burning through his fingertips again.

But before he could muster up the courage you had pulled away, and the moment faded into a jaded dream that he nestled safely in the back of his memories.

It's impossible to shake Zoro from you after that moment. He hounds after you like a coveting beast: he stays tied to your hip like a disruptive dog harnessed on a leash. Your favourite activity is sneaking out of your dorms after hours and running down to meet by the riverbed: feet sprinting across the cream petals and sharp pine needles to collapse next to one another among the buzz of the fireflies nestling above the woven grass. For a while, as the two of you turn your tired heads to the skies, there's nothing but a silent affinity settling over the clearing. Nothing but the feel of the silk sleeve of Zoro's pyjamas brushing over the side of your cheek as unclasps his hands from behind his head and warily rests them in the short space between your hips. Nothing but the sound of your extolled voice as you point up at the bursts of sparks and swirls of silver against the darkness, enrapturing Zoro as you chart out the dips of your favourite constellations.

The reflection of the skies you had spent your younger years on the seas watching with wonder fill your eyes with a wonderous light, the delight drawing your attention away and allowing Zoro the opportunity to docilely turn his head to face you instead. His cheek freezes against the dew, but he's too revered in memorising the scrunch of your nose as you swat your hand at him for not paying attention: too busy watching the placid look that softens your smile as you look, too busy wishing he wasn't so cowardly. Wishing he didn't feel so feeble. Wishing, as his hand clawed at his thigh and dug in deep enough to leave bruises, that he could just reach out and touch you.

He jumps when you click your fingers in front of his crossing eyes. 'Zoro, are you even listening?'

He shrugged. 'Kinda. I don't know much about this stuff. If I can't hit it, I don't care.'

'You should! One day, when I become the greatest sword fighter in the world, I'm going to sail into those stars and discover all the secrets this world has to offer.' You flopped your free hand over your stomach with a content sigh, the spiralling glow of the heavens raining down and coating your face with sparks of silver.

He snorted. 'That sounds stupid. You can't sail into the sky.'

'You're just jealous because you're not invited.'

'Good. Who said I wanted to come.'

Zoro may be an idiot, but he's also a man who learns from his mistakes.

He doesn't know what overtakes him. Adrenaline? Rage? An overwhelming surge of fondness? The thought pounding in his head that if he doesn't do this now, he'll spend forever locked away in this cage? His fingers itch across the grass. His whole body squirms, the heat rolling through his body making the perspiration bead on his forehead, but still he keeps going. It's only when he feels your hand jolt back as his pinkie bumps against the side of your wrist that he begins to feel stupid.

Growing self-restraint be damned, as soon as you recover from the shock and shyly place your hand back down by your side, he pounces. Initially, the squeeze of his fingers as they wrap around your cool palm almost breaks bone, but all you do is rub your thumb over the edge of his knuckles.

You know its his way of telling you he loves you, even if he is too young and stubborn and proud to say it.

You both knew that one day you would leave him for the stars. When the time comes, and you leave Shimotsuki Village, to stop the sinews of his heart from completely scorching away with every knot of your ship, the demon suffocates any thought of you.

When he meets you again that fateful day: tied up to a Marine post in a dusty courtyard, tired, frustrated, solemn, for the first time in his life he begins to feel his judgement sway. When your face popped around the yard gates on your way out from meeting Axehand Morgan, your feet skid so comically across the ground the cloud of smoke it raised was so huge it even made Zoro sneeze. With a hand on your hip, and eyes widened in disbelief, you stepped out into the sunlight to survey the man bowed before you.

'I always knew I'd see you tied up one day', you smirked, shoving the handful of berries you had earnt from trading in your last bounty into the satchel by your hip before wandering over to untie him. 'Just thought it would be me doing the tying.'

'Y/n?', he asks incredulously, trying his best to dart his eyes nonchalantly up and down your body despite how fervently his voice was trying to waver. He sneered, tipping his head in the other direction and staring at the ground as you tug on the rather tight knots around his wrist. 'What the hell are you doing here.'

When you finally manage to tug him loose off the boards, his knees sag so quickly beneath him that the swordsman nearly goes collapsing headfirst onto the ground. With reflexes so quick they could only be rivalled by your own sparring buddy himself, a firm hand slaps against his sternum. A quick tug pulls him back, Zoro's knees dirtying with beige as he kneels back against you.

'Same as you, oh great swordsman', you laugh against his ear. 'I always told you you'd have competition. And from the looks of it, I'm winning.'

For a second you're concerned you've overstepped: the familiarity, the fondness you thought everlasting between you both a figment of your imagination when Zoro tilts his head back slightly to glare at you from the corners of his eyes. Placing a hand on his knee he braces himself, and steps up. For a moment, you're even more terrified he's about to kick you to the ground - or even worse, turn his back and walk off, ignoring you completely. But then he surprises you. The corners of his lips twitch in what - no way- could only be the beginnings of a smile?! before you're lifted off the ground and crushed in a hug so unyielding between his solid chest and taut arms that you can't help but bury your head into his shoulder blade and laugh.

It wasn't very hard to convince Luffy to let you join his crew - I mean, when you took down three Marines with just one punch, and he saw the powerhouse you and Zoro were as you fought back to back with Axehand Morgan, you were coming, and that was that. No buts. No excuses. Don't argue with your Captain.

I mean, bless his heart, Zoro is still a dumbass though, as perceptive as he is. And he's still sore. It takes a little bit of work to climb through the trellises of his grave heart. But little by little, he begins to open up to you again. He starts to grumble less when you climb up to join him during his late nights on watch up in the Crow's Nest. At first, as he burrows his back into the planks and crosses his arms in front of his chest, the steady breathing of his stoic body makes your job seem even harder. Undeterred, you rocked back on your heels and clucked your tongue in nervousness. But you should have known: even with his eyes closed, concentration edged into the furrows of his face, he's far too perspicacious for his own good. Even though he's doing his best to look brooding and bored, his foot shoots out and kicks his sword out of the way - launching it back across your heels and barring you from tumbling back down and falling down the hatch.

Every time you drag yourself up in the middle of the night to join him, you can tell his full concentration is centred on you, even if his eyes never even move behind their lids. He's pointedly listening out for your move, your every breath, your every heartbeat - which comes in very handy for darting out and catching in his massive palm the warm cups of cider you had precariously tried to carry up. Eventually, after a full week of you sitting up there Zoro finally relents his pride; even with Luffy's vest and Usopp's jacket wrapped around you, you clutch at the lapels of Sanji's suit jacket that your friends had very kindly lent you to try and stop shivering from the cold. Zoro doesn't even speak, just raises his elbow a little bit, and you don't need a second invitation to come clambering into the warmth of his side.

God, if he hadn't spent every moment of every day since he was thirteen years old dreaming of holding you in his arms. You pretend, for his sake, that you can't feel his heart thrumming wildly against your ear.

You catch the former bounty hunter staring at you from across the Lounge’s breakfast table most mornings. The intensity of his unwavering eye would be strong enough to make you blush, if you hadn't turned your attention back to stabbing at Luffy's grabby hands with the prongs of your fork. It's only when Sanji clasps his hands to his cheek, and in a faux sugary sweet sing-song voice professes 'how romantic mosshead can be! What person wouldn't love being stared at like roadkill!', that all hell breaks loose. Luffy's too busy munching on your pancake to truly register you and Nami nearly flying leapfrog over Zoro's back to try and stop him from throwing the poor cook through the window.

Although you succeed, Sanji does have to spend the rest of the morning sulkily smoking out of the corner of his mouth while wringing orange juice out of his hair.

Zoro is extremely, extremely protective over you. Even though you know how much he hates talking, he draws all the attention to himself away from Cabaji, even while tied up to Buggy' circus wheel. When the knives start whizzing past his head, he doesn't even flinch: safe in the knowledge that no matter what happens, you're safe from these buffoons. When Nami finally manages to pick her cage's lock and help free the two of you, you offer Zoro your hand as you cautiously steady him on the ground again. He jolts, and for a moment you're worried one of the knives actually did hit him; while you flip his palm trying to find any sign of a scratch, Zoro's eyes focus on you in wild shock. He feels fifteen again as he gently rubs your searching fingers between his coarse pointer finger and thumb, sobbing into his bed and holding the hilt of his sword, pretending it was your hand. Your warmth. And here you were, come back to him, offering it freely. He felt like falling to his knees, a pliant supplicant to your unwarranted mercy.

One time he nearly made you bust out laughing: since Zoro spends most of his day napping in such random intervals, during a rogue storm aboard the Going Merry one cloudy evening the swordsman was still awake. It was during your struggle to stop yourself pitching right off your bed and slamming into the wall, and planting yourself firmly from sliding to the left and body slamming a very irritated looking Nami, whose head was covered by one of her bunched up pillows, that you spotted a shadow flitting across the porthole on your door. Zoro's tall, awkward outline hesitantly moved as if he were about to rap at the door, before the sound of him yelling at himself under his breath made you snort aloud.

His head rises at the sound, and before he can take a step backward to try and abort his masterplan of sneaking into your room under the guise of checking if you were alright with the storm battering the rocking ship, you had slammed open the door and nearly flung Zoro into your hammock like a ragdoll. For a moment, Zoro lies there like a statue, unsure of where to put his hands or if it's alright that the sway of the ship means that he can't unsquish his cheek from against the side of your eyebrow. When his hand hesitantly begins to fall over your back and fold you tightly against his pecs with a squeeze, you know that's his trepid way of trying to let you know he still loved you.

Not to mention when you wake up and he's lying with his nose nearly indented into yours, his sleepy eyes looking so peaceful for once... just admiring you with the warm glow of the sun dousing him in holiness.

One time he got really lost trying to find you and Luffy after the two of you had the very sensible idea of setting off to the nearest island on a search for hidden treasure. After he had spent hours wading through muddy creeks and tearing some tangled thorns away from his face, out you come wandering from behind a tree. Thinking you were some kind of wild animal, Zoro has you pinned against the bark of the nearest tree before you even have time to blink.

Not one to be defeated, you kick out at his legs with a delighted laugh, knocking the man nearly ass over head onto his back. You grin, victorious, as you crawl between his legs like a ravenous tiger, knocking the hilt of his blade far out of reach of his clenching fingers. As your knee presses against the inner seam of his muscled thigh, you can tell by the forced gulp of his bobbing throat how hard he's struggling. When you dig your fingernails deeply enough into his wrists to elicit a throaty hum of approval, when his abdomen keeps bucking ever so slightly off the reeds to try and shake you off, you just know the man's imagined this scenario a lot of times, in a lot of different ways over the years.

(I mean this man could throw you off easily let's be real.)

When the Straw Hat Crew meet Kaya, this man - istg - he nearly goes weak at the knees when you come down the stairs in your brand new borrowed outfit. His breathless inhale earned him a distasteful glare from Klahadore, but he didn't even care that he was showing such careless, unmeasured adoration. It took Luffy nearly slapping him across the face with the shrimp he was waving in front of his nose to draw him back to some sense of reality.

'I know!', the Captain had smiled. 'The food here is so good, I was daydreaming about it too!'

Having the good fortune to uh *definitely by chance and not because you snuck into the dining hall earlier to switch the place cards* - to sit next to Zoro offers him the opportunity to make his feelings more plain, in a subtle way. Perfect timing! As soon as Luffy clambers up onto the table and draws the wrath of the strangely severe butler, Zoro's hand latches across yours under the tablecloth and squeezes. He blinks languidly, his face as unreadable as ever as he takes a sip out of his champagne flute and clears his throat, but you notice. You know every part of him: every idiosyncrasy, every bob of his Adam's Apple, the tensed pull of his jaw muscle as he clenches his teeth, the warm flush rising up his cheeks, you know them all. As if they were so innate, so interwoven with your own being, that you weren't sure of a time when your hearts hadn't been devoured by each other's. Each the predator. Each the prey.

He leaves his hand on your knee for the rest of the dinner, and you refuse to remove his latched fingers and let him go.

You kiss him for the first time that night: just a sweet little tease of lingering lips against the pure radiance of his cheek.

As he walks you down the 'confusing' corridors that are 'definitely a trap' by Zoro's own declaration, you unlink yourself from his arm to straighten the collar of his silk shirt. 'You look nice', you say sincerely, eyebrows furrowing as you trace the outline of his bare collar between the open buttons. 'Even though swords are more your style, you look good in a suit. You look good in everything.'

'Uh... thanks', he balks, his head emptying as his entire being instead focuses on the feeling of your fingertip scratching of his chest. 'You- your eyes look nice', he bluntly replies. 'Like two rice balls.'

Bless him, he meant well.

And then you kiss him with a raise of your tippy toes and final clutch of your hands against his shoulders, before retreating back into your room and leaving him extinguished within the shadows. He spends the next few hours almost deliriously wandering the corridors, trying to temper the tight ball growling in his belly. To try and find a sense of clarity, some kind of retinence. Looking past the billowing blue curtains and out through the slats of the casement windows lining the ornate, ostentatious glass cases, a warning pangs in Zoro's heart. How could he? How could he find restraint, when you had spent all these years driving his thoughts wild? How could he keep you safe, when he could focus on nothing but the wetness still lingering against his cheek? How could he fulfil his dreams, when all he wants right there. Just past the clear moonlight drifting silver into his eyelids, there your stars lay.

He wasn't about to let you sail away from him this time, to alight only in his memories: to pulse through the hollow beats of his hear and cool his charred veins like a cruel reminder of a salvation he had never deserved.

He wasn’t going to lose you to his callow cowardice. Not ever again.

When he comes knocking on your door, you don't expect the demon bounty hunter to blurt out a fevered 'I love you!', before turning and stamping off. But I suppose, as you ran after to him to drag him back into your room by the scuff of his neck and slam the wide expanse of his back against the door to shut it, he wasn't expecting to spend the night filling poor Kaya's house with unbridled moans.

[blackknight-kai]

I don’t talk about her much, because she changes based on the au I use. The art below for my OC is from the wonderful WKZ who is not on the platform anymore for reasons of their choosing - *Friend if you see this know I appreciate you and you are missed*

If you want more of her let me know 😊 I’m gonna write some fics with her.

OC name: Kavara

(I do have a monkey version of her written out 😊 just not added to this post cuz she’s special and I’m still working on her)

Mix of Modern/Ancient Era traits

- [ ] Shes 5’6”/167 cm tall , shorter than the monkeys, her forehead is at mouth height (I hc them kinda tall? Like 5’10” /177cm or so). She has nice curves/ not too skinny not too hearty and a c/d-cup.

- [ ] She has deep burgundy red hair due to fire based abilities (wip)

- [ ] Amber eyes / almost orange in the right light

- [ ] 6 little dark freckles/moles that are in a straight line all the way down her cheek starting from the far side of her left eye, almost like a tear left stain, like me, (lore thing I’m still thinking about)

- [ ] Depending on what I use her for she has short curly/wavy hair or long curls.

- [ ] Likes peach scented body oil. (😏)

- [ ] Used to look mean - but she is gentle inside.

- [ ] Has to touch everything that’s soft if she walks by it, soft blanket? Gotta touch. Soft monkey? Gotta touch. Also likes being wrapped in cozy soft things. (Likes lots of pillows and blankets on her bed - she runs warm though so likes the air to be cool)

- [ ] Seriously she loves petting his fur…would do it all day long.

- [ ] Doesn’t eat sweets often, too rich for her.

- [ ] Likes sweet fruits though like peaches, plums (likes the tart skin on these the best), and crunchy apples.

- [ ] Dances/wiggles in her seat a little if she likes her food a lot

- [ ] No matter what AU she always finds DO/WK (or his variants) handsome instantly- crush may take longer but she always finds him charming and interesting in his own way.

- [ ] Enjoys messing with DO-Wukong/catching him off guard. Shes a little menace too (especially to those she likes). Enjoys annoying people (but not too much- like if making a pop sound with her mouth repeatedly gets under your skin she’s gonna do it - not to the point of pissing you off but she’s gonna get on your nerves).

- [ ] Chews on stuff sometimes to alleviate aggression/help keep focus/lower anxiety.

- [ ] Not a big drinker but will have a drink or two. Doesn’t mind a drunk monkey.

- [ ] Likes to collect pretty rocks and smooth stones that feel good in her hand.

- [ ] Not big on fancy luxury. Or stuffy clothes.

- [ ] Her weapons are similar to Kratos, (dual blades that can be smoldering etc and have chains she can use to throw them and pull them back. She likes to make big explosions 💀

- [ ] She hides them as earrings so they are always with her.

- [ ] Under her outfit she wears chest wraps to keep girlies together and tight to her chest. She wears the equivalent of panties but a loincloth sash covers her ass and front- legs exposed - this way if she loses her outer wear due to her fire she isn’t nakey.

- [ ] Puts her friends first.

- [ ] Curses internally a lot- sometimes out loud.

- [ ] Again, seems tough/uncaring but she is the most accepting person (as long as you aren’t genuinely bad/do bad shit) and will be the mom friend.

- [ ] Enjoys taking care of DO/WK. wants always help him, he’s her best friend. (Eventual lover)

- [ ] Wants him to feel cared for - and that she’d be there for him.

- [ ] in alt universe’s she would fight the fuckers at the begin of the game for him. Or by his side. She would genuinely die to keep him from having to resign himself to dying just to be free.

None of this is fine tuned but it’s the basic of whatever I got. I changed some stuff to suit my needs so…so I’m sorry if it’s a bit confusing but here we go!

This is a version of her specifically meant to know Wukong before BMW events. (Other versions of her like modern au or whatever I need her for don’t follow this but have similar things)

She is an immortal, one birthed of fire, chaos, destruction, (rebirth if you think about how fire culls the land for new life to grow), the embodiment of the roaring fires on the sun basically.

So in her younger days she is not exactly well liked, shes strong and was someone who didn’t like to held down. She didn’t outright disobey or was rebellious but if something wasn’t right or if she felt slighted/felt someone was slighted she would make that shit known. Quick to anger.

Because of this she had pissed off the wrong person, they placed a curse on her - (again not fine tuned) and it basically is like a black tar root that starts from her heart and starts spreading and coiling around her body the more emotion she feels, specifically negative ones like (seen negative) anger, hatred, fear, all those kinds of emotions.

She can heal, but the pain and the curse will spread to such agonizing levels that if she pushes it too far it will take over her body and encapsulate her/put out the fire in her which keeps her immortal. She of course tries to break the curse but there isnt anything that works. It’s like a spore that is attached to her heart that has molded to her and wont go.

Unfortunately this makes her shut down emotionally, she doesnt have a support system so as much as she tries to fight the agony gets worse and worse. Her fire dims, not dead, just dims. Kavara at this point just does her duties, keeps to herself, and represses all emotions whatsoever. She’s free of pain and honestly doesnt have to worry about shit, so it becomes her new norm.

In comes Sun Fucking Wukong.

The charming egotistical chaotic monkey yaoguai that wants to play immortal. She hears of him mostly, but remains indifferent. Until one day they finally meet.

Probably the worst thing that happens to a lot of people actually…..because Sun Wukong is the first to make her laugh. Ever. Not one of those “haha i am victorious” laughs she might have had when fighting back in the day. No, a full on belly aching laugh. Tears down her face and a wide pretty smile, something she honestly wasn’t capable of/thought she had. (She’s beautiful but never thought about it I guess)

This is the first time she realizes that HAPPY or positive emotions dont make the curse spread.

Wukong of course takes this as his sign to KEEP making her laugh (when he isnt being a little shit in heaven and to others).

Over time they do become friends, he learns of her curse, she learns of his goals. Unfortunately for everyone else Wukong influences her to stop being an emotionless doll and she becomes his partner in crime. Best chaotic duo ever.

THERES MORE BUT THIS IS JUST SOME OF HER STORY!!!

I didn’t wanna give the WHOLE lore, if you want more let me know. It’s quite a bit and a mix of angst & happiness.

Same with a version of her that meets Destined One. It’s a different AU and one that is a bit on the angsty side but I will ALWAYS give a happy ending.

[pumpkinsy0]

Here is my first contribution to this Fandom in (checks ao3) a year and a half. I've had a few thoughts about them all since then.

1. Dallas probably has the WORSTTTTTTTTT back acne. Like pimples the size of nipples on his fucking spine. Dinosaur ass motherfucker (I still fucking hate Dallas Winston BTW I want that on record).

2. Darrel five years down the line and not remembering a single event of those nine months

3. Ponyboy sharing a big Mac with curly after they come out. That's it.

4. Soda busted by Darrel for drinking during and after windrixville

5. Two and Steve being most likely to be (realistically) not drafted

6. Johnny continuing the cycle

who would u b as a person if u didnt hate dallas, glad to have u back🙏🏽

BUT I KNOWWWW sylvia had a habit of picking skin and would bother that man about popping the back pimples. dally always said no bc once she did it to him when he was expecting it and it felt like pure hot lava was dripping down his back

darry probably doesnt even specifically remember the day his parents died and how he got the news, that day is such a blur to him, he does remember the next day tho

pony and curlys “go to meal” when theyre together is seasoned crunchy fries, but neither of them can agree on curly fries or crinkle cut

i will die on the hill that while johnny wouldnt b an ABUSIVE parent, he still wouldnt b a good one either, he pays attention to his kid but doesnt discipline them well

[chericos]

Curled Around Your Finger ꩜ .ᐟ

M. Fushiguro x curly-haired!(implied black!)reader

Inspired by @/just-jordie-things

Megumi Fushiguro loves your hair.

(Not like it was any secret) Granted, he loves every part of you. It’s not like your physical features are attributed to his reasons for loving you. But it is a WELL known fact among your peers that Megumi is borderline obsessed with anything relating to your hair.

Any chance he gets he’s carding his hand through your locks and curling them around his finger. You could be anywhere, doing anything, and he will find (or make) a reason to play with your curls. It’s like second nature.

In his defense, he has a constant need to touch you. Whether you're cuddled up during a movie night, placing his hand over yours while sitting on a bench, or—even with his disdain for pda—linking pinkies while walking through crowded areas. It’s not his fault his hands tend to migrate to your hair naturally. (he knows what he’s doing)

And it’s not like you were none the wiser either. You saw how his eyes were trained on your hair when sitting on the train together. You felt the way his fingers softly massage your scalp while you rested your head on his chest. You even heard the way he’d hum with a dopey grin on his face as he braided and twisted small sections during breaks.

So that’s why it’s no surprise when he offers (follows you) to come to the hair supply store with you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The bustling streets of Tokyo felt alive with the energy of the afternoon rush, but for Megumi Fushiguro, it was just another errand he had committed to. You walked next to him, hand in hand, and a skip in your step as you made your way downtown. Megumi turns his head to look down at you. The midsummer sunlight kissed your face, making you look radiant, he wondered how you always looked even prettier than the last time he saw you.

Your smile brightened as you reached out to give his hand a squeeze before releasing it. The beauty supply store came into view, a colorful beacon amidst the sea of grey buildings. The large windows displayed a myriad of hair products, tools, and accessories, promising solutions for every hair type and problem.

"Thanks for coming with me, Gumi," you said, glancing up at him. "I know it's not really your thing."

"It's fine," Megumi replied, his usual stoic expression softening slightly when he looked at you. "I wanted to spend some time with you anyway."

It's a relatively quiet affair. The only noise came from the other few scattered patrons and the muffled hum of music playing through the speakers. But his eyes follow you like a hawk. He was taking a mental note of every product you grab and storing it in the back of his mind for later.

If anyone were to ask, he would just say he was doing “what any good boyfriend would do”—which is true, but honestly, he just wanted to be useful. In the case at any point, you need to refill on something, you could depend on him to go in your stead.

"Alright, first on the list is leave-in conditioner," you said, walking towards one of the aisles as he followed silently behind you. You crouched down to reach your go-to hair brand, Megumi watched as you picked up different bottles, reading the labels and ingredients carefully. He always admired how knowledgeable you were about what your hair needed, and the way you seemed to navigate the store with ease.

"Do you have a preference for scents?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence, and surprising you with his question.

"Not really," you replied, smiling at his interest. "As long as it works well and doesn't clash with my other products, I'm happy."

You handed him a bottle. "What do you think about this one?"

Megumi took it, sniffing the open cap. "It smells nice. Light and fresh.”

"Perfect," you said, adding it to your basket. "Next, I need a good gel. Something that will define my curls without making them crunchy."

As you continued your search, Megumi stayed close, shadowing you like an eager puppy. He occasionally picks up products, asking for your opinion on them. You explained the difference between various types of gels, creams, oils, and what brands you do and don’t support, and he listened intently, making sure to memorize your hair care routine.

"Do you always use so many products?" he asked as you compared two different gels.

"Pretty much," you replied with a small laugh. "Curly hair can be high maintenance, but I love it. It's a part of who I am. Especially after everything I've been through regarding it."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I like your curls. They suit you."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Gumi!"

After picking out a gel that met your criteria, you moved on to accessories. You browsed through hair ties, clips, scarves, and headbands, holding up different options for Megumi's opinion. He offered his thoughts, telling which colors go best with your complexion and what style would fit your aesthetic.

Finally, you reached the checkout, your basket full of new products and accessories. As you placed everything on the counter, Megumi stepped forward, pulling out his wallet.

"Let me," he said, and before you could even think of protesting, he had already gone and paid for everything.

"Megumi, you didn't have to do that," you said, touched by his gesture.

"I wanted to," he replied simply.

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Well, thank you. I really appreciate it."

Megumi insisted on carrying your shopping bags, gently taking them from your hands with a firm yet kind expression. "You shouldn't have to carry anything if I'm with you," he said, his voice resolute. As you left the store, bags in hand, you felt a sense of contentment. The streets of Tokyo were still crowded, and you ended up linking your arm around Megumi’s to not get separated.

While you both walked back to the dorms you turned a corner, and noticed a quaint coffee shop with large, inviting windows and a cozy ambiance. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted out onto the sidewalk.

"Want to grab a coffee before we head back?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"Sure," he agreed, a rare smile playing on his lips. "I'd like that."

The two of you walked side by side, the bustling city around you feeling a little bit quieter, a little bit more peaceful. In that moment, you knew that it wasn't just about the beauty supply store or the products you'd bought. It was about the time spent together, the small acts of care and understanding that strengthened your bond.

As you sipped your coffee and chatted about everything and nothing, you felt grateful for Megumi and the way he made even the most mundane of tasks feel special. And with your new hair products in tow, you knew that your curls—and your heart—were in good hands.

I’m a sucker for curly hair…

also, I find that each time I write I start blanking out when it comes to dialogue. Idk I can never seem to get it down right 😞

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate, or plagiarise my works

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Some Lmk ss edits + Headcanons (Traffic light trio)

- He/They

- Gay

- Only wears knock off brands (doesn't know they aren't real)

- Autumn is his favorite season, purely because he likes to stomp the crunchy leaves

- Adhd

- Has dimples

- Pigsy once got him rainbow shoes for pride month before he was even out but MK didn't realize they were pride shoes because the rainbow was on the sole

- Tried to cook breakfast for Pigsy and Tang on Father's day once, somehow lit the curtains on fire

- Wants Tattoos but keeps backing down because he doesn't like needles (will probably get one in the future though)

- Has a sketchbook fully dedicated to Redson, would literally die if someone ever found it

- Smells like oranges

- Only a few inches taller than Redson, always teases him for it

- Almost killed Sun Wukong once because he was disguised as a spider

- The Monkey's on flower fruit mountain always climb on him when he's around, he doesn't try to stop them

- Had to remove the snooze option on his alarm clock because he wouldn't stop hitting it

- Chicken scratch handwriting, no one else can read it for the life of them

- Learned Spanish in high school, don't ask why it just feels right

- Covered in scars, but 83% of them are from being a dumb kid instead of battles

- Once described Redson's voice as "really warm, like a hug!" And almost got burnt for it

- Love language is physical touch

- Has those really pretty brown eyes, like the ones that look like honey when the light hits them at that one perfect angle

- Has no fashion sense whatsoever, Mei chose out most of the clothes he owns

- Phone is shattered beyond repair but he refuses to acknowledge that he needs to get a new one

- Obsessively takes personality/buzzfeed tests in the dead of night, once pulled an all nighter just taking "which drink are you?", "what kind of seafood are you?" "What type of candy are you?" Type of buzz feed quizzes, and physically couldn't do deliveries because he was so exhausted the next morning

- Has a bunch of plants but is terrible at taking care of them

- Has a chipped tooth (actually Canon, it's on his lego figurine, I'm still sad they didn't add it to the show :( )

- Once walked in on Tang and Pigsy kissing as a kid and was promptly traumatized

- Has no skin or hair care routine, uses a 3 in 1 Shampoo/conditioner/bodywash

- Has really nice curly/wavy hair but straightens it and uses an unholy amount of hair gel

- Has a wattpad account

- Sleeps in literally the most horrific positions you have ever seen, yet somehow never get cramps or neck/back pains

- Once drank dishwasher soap as a kid because he thought it was juice

- Gets sunburnt incredibly easy (if you've seen the s4 special ykwim)

- Mk once accidently threw a plastic bottle in the trash instead of the recycling bin and got lectured for an hour by Pigsy (Pigsy is a huge environmentalist)

- His bedroom is messy as all hell but he somehow knows where everything is (Pigsy and Tang have tried cleaning it themselves but it was back to being a mess just a few short hours later so they gave up)

- He/Him (FtM)

- Gay

- Shortest one in the trio (just barely though). I like to think that the removal of the samadhi fire stunted his growth and demonic development, which is also why he takes so little after his father in appearance/height. He always wears platforms though, so he looks taller than he is

- He was so quiet and sneaky as a child that his mom had to put a bell on him

- Used to wear large combat boots until someone made a "step on me" joke. He doesn't wear them in public anymore

- Smells like smoke and cinnamon, Mei once described it as a 'campfire' smell

- Has really heavy blackout curtains in his bedroom

- Hair turns black when wet or when he's burnt out

- Always has a soft glow to his body because of his fire, mouth glows faintly, hair glows faintly, the more emotional he is the stronger the glow (MK and Mei are incredibly jealous)

- Tension headaches because we all know that mf has his hair tied up in the tightest goddamn ponytail ever

- Has the samadhi fire back (I'm delusional just let me have this)

- Has a habit of stealing his friends and families clothes to wear, first started when he was really little and would constantly steal whatever clothes of DBK's he could find around the house to help him feel like his dad was still there, and the habit just stuck with him

- Doctor handwriting

- Autistic

- Identifies as male but still likes to wear skirts and dresses sometimes (he just like me fr). Likes floor length skirts the best

- Actually really good at art, mostly draws blueprints for his inventions, but can draw people and landscapes pretty decently too

- Has a childhood Bull plushie that he still sleeps with, hides it under the bed or in the closet whenever MK and Mei come over

- has a scar on his back resembling the rings of samadhi from the removal ritual, Mei once confused it for a tattoo

- Mei once called him "Zesty" and he still doesn't know what it means, she refuses to tell him

- Was homeschooled by PIF

- Has a beauty mark like his mom's

- Has the most angelic, majestic, heartlifting laugh ever, but never actually laughs (unless it's his "evil" laugh, trust me guys)

- Goes to bed at 3am, wakes up at 11am type of person

- Needs glasses because the Samadhi fire fucked up his eyes (in Journey to the West, the samadhi fire is described as a flame that, when activated, "shoots out of every hole in his face" including, of course, his eyes)

- Remember when I said he was a quiet child? Yeah, he can't do that anymore, he literally has no idea how to be quiet now that he's older, the best he can do is whisper shout

- Hopeless romantic, but convinced that any and all feelings are unrequited

- Mei and Mk found his baby pictures once, he will never recover

- Long ass skin and hair care routine, will spend at least two or more hours on it every morning, but it's worth it, his hair and skin are always so soft

- Touch starved as fuck

- Love language is gift giving and positive affirmation (WILL cry if someone compliments him, doesn't matter who it is or what the context is, he once almost burst into tears when Sandy called him a good kid and gave him a pat on the back)

- Once he's focused on something he will stay focused for at least the next ten hours

- Loves strawberry flavored things but hates actual strawberries

- Listens to really underground music and has the biggest superiority complex because of it

- Has the biggest fucking bedroom you have ever seen, with one of those really large and extravagant, super comfortable canopy beds, wakes up like a Disney princess

- Usually self-preserving but will experiment on himself without hesitation if he thinks it'll help him with a breakthrough (has almost died on several occasions)

- She/Her

- Lesbian

- Has tons of piercings: nose, ears, bellybutton, etc (her parents don't know about the bellybutton piercing and she doesn't plan on letting them know anytime soon)

- "Hey, Red boy, cool tattoo!" "... thats a scar." (She still hasn't lived it down)

- Smells like freshly cut grass

- Tallest one in the group, idc what anyone says, I just have a feeling okay?

- Adores glitter makeup but can't stand the feeling of it on her skin

- Love language is quality time

- Has a love/hate relationship with her dragon features, she thinks they look cool and she's proud of her heritage, but if her scales get too dry, which happens very easily, they get really uncomfortable and itchy as all hell

- Had a phase in high school where she'd dye her hair everything except green

- Probably also has Adhd

- Avid tennis player

- Hates the feeling of jeans, but loves denim jackets (has a whole collection, plus one that she and MK have been patching together for years)

- Always smudges her mascara somehow, MK once thought she was crying

- Super rough and rowdy as a kid, like I'm talking pushing kids off swings and down the slide rowdy, tackling people in the sandbox or on the school field, girl was a menace to society

- Snorts when she laughs

- MK tried to scare her once as a joke and her first instinct was to deck him (apologized profusely... before laughing at him)

- Most reckless driver on the planet, it's a wonder how she hasn't gotten her license taken away yet

- Doesn't really consider herself close with her family, she loves them but MK, Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy are her FAMILY, y'know? Like Rosa in b99

- Was the first person to know MK has a crush on Redson, she found out when she walked in on him drawing them together, and she will never let him forget it

- Has a normal skin and hair care routine, and constantly tells Redson that he's insane for needing 2+ hours to complete his

- Is the only one with readable handwriting

- Once stayed up for an entire week to play a new video game that came out

- Will smack her head with a brush if her hair doesn't cooperate

- Bites people (gently, its how she shows affection. Unless she doesn't like you then she'll just naw on your arm until she draws blood)

- Lives on energy drinks, her favorite is Monster Pipeline punch

- Has really soft and really thick hair

- Used to chew on her hair in middle school

- Biggest sweet tooth ever, Redson is disgusted by her eating habits

- Goes on early morning jogs every day except weekends

- Sabrina Carpenter fan

- Refuses to watch any movies or shows based on video games she likes because they'll "never have the same charm or energy as the game", but will buy the video games that a show/movie is based on if she watches them before playing

- Will eat random plants all the time. Walking through the park? She'll lean down and pick a flower to chomp on

- The type of girl to carry around a goddamn gallon water bottle everywhere

- Has a thousand fairy lights in her room, it's a fire hazard

[jaytalksmusic]

ALRIGHT OKAY REALLY GOOD TO SEE YOU DOWN IN NEW ORLEANS

SCREAMING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

world’s least mysterious clowns. [Redraw of]