#home shade snail

[bigleycanvas]

Sail Into Comfort: Residential Shade Solutions

With their stylish and useful approach to sun protection, Home Shade Sails have completely transformed outdoor living areas. With more than 120 years of experience in the field, Awnings by Bigley & Hogshire is a famous supplier that has mastered the art of designing cozy yet stylish outdoor spaces.Read our full article click here : Sail Into Comfort: Residential Shade Solutions

[ridingtorohan]

Generic Headcanons for the Tulpar Crew!

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist _ Join the taglist _ Ask box

Curly can't bowl. Absolutely can not. As coordinated as he is, this sport is absolutely not under his forte. Somehow, he gets all strikes or only one pin down.

Used to have a bubble blowing pipe as a kid. Still collects bubble blowers but doesn't really use them.

Sentimental in that he doesn't throw gifts away, even if he knows he won't use them. Has them neatly packed away in boxes

His hair is usually slightly frizzy and brushed on trips but back at home, he does the full oil, scrunch, curl routine, resulting in amazing curls

Prefers vanilla ice cream

Diagnosed insomniac. Sleeps like the dead when he does actually sleep; his heart rate slows down a lot so he actually scared a few roommates in the past

Hairy chest

Usually wears two shirts. After the crash, he's far more sensitive to temperature changes and bundles up, even if it's sweltering outside

Has a nasty scar on his knee from when he tripped as a kid. Didn't get stitches but probably should've

Listens to a mix of rock and foreign music, even when he doesn't know what they're saying

Wanted to be an astronaut but settled for becoming a pilot

Curly was an only child to a single mother. She had a serious disease that had him taking care of them both at a young age. He used the insurance money to become a pilot. She really believed in his dream.

Slightly colorblind (mixes up yellow and green) but by the time he's an adult he's able to tell the shades apart, so it didn't affect his pilot's course

Really enjoys raisin toast and cheese whiz.

A little forgetful. Usually keeps a notepad in his pocket or his keys on a long string

Can imitate accents really well, especially Southern drawls

Has English ancestry

Secretly terrified of the concept of the immortal snail

Daisuke sings horribly, but in such a charismatic way that somehow gets everyone joining in.

Does very bad puppetry, usually with socks. However, he's surprisingly good at miming.

He likes to draw!

He alternates between being the absolute boss at video games vs scoring almost nothing.

However! He's the absolute king at dance dance revolution and guitar hero.

Can't sit still for puzzles but surprisingly has a lot of fun with games like candy crush (and is really good at it)

Likes lemon hard candies

Pours whipped cream on anything. Bread? Whipped cream. Coffee? Whipped cream. Swansea had to kick that habit out of him

On that note: sweet tooth

Drools in his sleep and has the worst bedhead known to man

Has three sisters, all older and with set careers. He loves them a lot, despite feeling inadequate sometimes. He also has two moms!

Can't hold his liquor BUT surprisingly can never get drunk off of cold medicine

Watches a lot of thrillers, action and romcoms. Is always captivated by them (and cries a little when the couple gets together)

Quotes Mean Girls a lot

Was definitely a Disney kid. Belts into Lion King songs all the time (Swansea wants to strangle him)

Listens to screamo when he's tinkering with machines (usually with cars or where he can't readily change the songs)

Otherwise has a playlist that has songs from every genre. Never skips any of them.

Believes in sasquatch. Vehemently.

Tends to have bad luck with electronics, usually sparking himself somehow. His electronics usually have a lot of scuff marks and dented corners but surprisingly no cracked screens

Fluent in Spanish and passing in at least three other languages

Knows beauty routines better than most people do (including social media infleuncers)

Either has flawless skin or has a strict routine to prevent breakouts.

Definitely had a crush on Marty McFly poster in his bedroom. Still does.

Jimmy is, surprisingly, a good writer. He usually drops them only a few chapters in, but they're captivating and really enriched

Taps his foot a lot

Scrunches up his face when he's concentrating, often comically so

Absolutely hates black coffee but refuses to drink any other.

Says he hates the song that's playing but 9/10 he'll be nodding along to it. Absolutely despises Swansea and Anya's playlists

If the person he hates likes a song/movie/snack, he'll absolutely hate it. Even if he loved it before.

Sleeps with his arms crossed and head tipped back

Knows a lot about a bit of everything but in a weird way. Such as how to replace a car radio but not how to hot wire a car

Acts like the "tsundere" trope where he's mean if he likes someone

Prefers uniform clothing and goes for simple button ups otherwise

Somehow always finds himself at the receiving end of gossip. He knows all the tea but doesn't care enough to share it

Crazy skilled at board games, especially strategy and Monopoly. May or may not cheat. The absolute biggest sore loser

Mint or rocky road is his go-to ice cream snack. eats ice cream cones from the bottom up

Really good at visual puzzle solving. ("How many cubes are there?", mazes, etc)

Plays guitar and does it well. Favourite song to play is probably Country Roads

Hates the song Pumped Up Kicks. The school he used to go to before meeting Curly had way too many incidents to be comfortable.

Somehow, he does really well at baking those fancy deserts. Souffles, creme brulees, macarons, caramel, you name it. Probably would have made it as a chef somewhere

Always packs light and never keeps anything. Doesn't even have cards to the stores he frequents a lot.

Usually has a lighter or one of those "7 tools in 1" tool in his pocket.

Gets super bored with horror and nature documentaries. A fan of thriller and action though.

Somehow winds up with 57 pens in his drawers. He's never sure where they come from.

Likes to keep his facial hair short or with a shadow. It makes him feel unkempt if he goes longer.

He's more of a hands-on kind of guy, preferring to be outside in the fresh air instead of reading a book or watching TV.

Salted pretzels are his go-to snack.

Anya wears contacts (based on the soundtrack cover art)

Licks her finger before turning a page of the book and dog-ears to bookmark it

Always has ink smudges on her fingers. She never knows how it gets there

Twirls pens when she's lost in thought

She has a neutral resting face, so when she smiles or frowns, it crinkles a bit but you can always tell it's genuine

Never keeps her hair short; it always leaves her itchy. Closest she'll get is chin length

She's definitely a homebody

She doesn't often like switching hobbies but when she does, she focuses all her attention on it. However, it takes her a really long time to master it, leaving her discouraged.

Had difficulties in school.

All her books are filled with highlighted passages and writings in the margin

Tummy sleeper with her face smooshed in a pillow

Sleepwalks in a horrifying way. She'll stand at the foot of the bed and say cryptic things like, "He knows you're here" before walking away. Doesn't remember it the next day.

Prefers tea over coffee and dark chocolate

Doesn't really care for ice cream but likes freezies and Gelato

Prefers dogs over cats and loves labradors, even though she doesn't have the energy for them

Never could stomach the smell of puke or fecal matter

Doesn't know how to swim

Absolutely burns in the sun, no matter how much sun screen she uses.

She drives with audio books on, or while she's studying. Constant interruptions stress her out

Knows how to play the flute!

Has a few Russian lullabies memorized and knows the translations for them, though she doesn't know much Russian otherwise.

Mother died young, so it was her and her dad for a long time. She never felt like she lived up to his expectations.

Really close to her cousin growing up, who acted like an older sister to her.

Somehow, knows all the obscure lore about haunted locations and folklore. While she believes in ghosts, she doesn't believe in other entities.

Never swears. It's just not who she is.

Anya listens to a lot of indie and instrumental music.

She once had a pet parakeet named Timothy but gave it to her cousin when she tried to study for med school.

She has a music box, gifted to her by her mother before her passing. It's one of her prized possessions. Anya plays it before sleeping.

She likes to watch silent movies, black and white, and those that relate to her experiences in life.

Audrey Hepbern is consequently her favourite actress.

While most of her books are educational or self-help, she owns a few classics like Moby Dick and Pride & Prejudice.

Swansea knows how to crochet

He's a GOD at gambling. Everyone is sure that he's cheating, but it's honestly a lot of skill

While he doesn't know any other languages, he knows enough basic phrases to navigate in most foreign countries.

Very old in his ways (men must be gentlemen type thing) but progressive in others

Doesn't vote

Annoyed when Daisuke arrived in his floral shirt. Not because Daisuke skirted past the full uniform but because Swansea owns a lot of them (and oddly enough, many that match with Daisuke). So he never gets out of uniform

Can fall asleep anywhere

He's the fastest typer out of the Tulpar crew, second only to Daisuke

Still uses a Nokia phone though

Listens to podcasts or radio stations, but if he ever sits down for TV, it's usually dramas (think, SVU or Young & The Restless). Gets super invested in the soap dramas, even if he swears he doesn't or otherwise. He knows everyone's names and backstories off hand.

Gets grumpy if you turn off the show he's watching.

Tried growing a beard once. Never again

Keeps photos of his entire family in his wallet. Mother? There. Wife? There. Kids? There. His dentist? Somehow, there.

Never went to AA. He doesn't exactly deter people from drinking, but he'll outright shove people in chairs and take their car keys if they're too drunk to drive

Owns a really beat-up sports car. The upkeep is horrible, but it's what he got in the divorce, and he won't trade it for anything. Let Daisuke drive it exactly once (1)

Took wrestling and boxing in his youth! He gives a mean right hook. He still has the arm muscles from it

Absolutely cannot stand sticky, tacky items. Hates the feel of gum on his hands. Okay with chewing it.

Very efficient at multitasking! Even if it looks like he's focused on something, he notices things from his peripheral vision asap. Also weirdly attuned to Daisuke and just knows when he's grabbing something that he shouldn't

Scary good intuition about people.

Absolute king at barbecuing. Steak is his favourite food, especially accompanied with beer (he misses those days), roasted mini potatoes and garlic vegetables.

Makes the meanest stew and soup you've ever known. Throws the absolute wildest ingredients into the pot, but it comes out miraculous every time.

Adds salt and pepper to his meal anytime anyone else is cooking. Even if it was adequately seasoned

Knows how to ride a horse!

His part of the city isn't the best (high crime rate), but all the kids know his name and go to him whenever they need to escape from home or a warm meal. He doesn't know why they're so drawn to him, but something about Swansea makes them feel secure. It's put him in the good graces of the not-so-good folk and he's left well enough alone by them.

Definitely owns a shotgun and probably had to fend thieves away from his home prior to that though.

Definitely has Irish and Scottish ancestry. Maybe a bit of German.

[secretlysimpash]

🐙Weird Octopus🐙

(Octopus Monster Hybrid König x Marine Biologist/Scientist Reader)

Warning(s): reader has no specified gender, injury and blood mentioned, slight hint to monsterfucking at the end, tentacle dicks (yes, plural)

"Poor little guy..." Was all you could say as you scooped up the little octopus creature into a bucket. It has-or had-eight arms, so you assume its just some variation of a dumbo octopus.

A little bigger than most Grimpoteuthis...The tentacles a bit longer. And the coloration is a bit odd as well. Black with red markings under the eyes, the suckers being a matching shade of scarlet. But more than anything, its eyes are a striking shade of blue. Just a bit lighter than the blue blood that stains the walls of the bucket. Its eighth arm was missing, only a stump now. It was already in some distress, its tiny black ears fluttering close to its squishy dome head.

This could be a new species, a subspecies, something...Something that you discovered. So you take it to your home near the sea. Both so you could document your discoveries...And so you could tend to the palm sized octopus.

You clean out a tank for the creature, filling it with some saltwater. Another thought comes to mind as you go to the bucket...Dumbo octopuses live in the deep sea. This creature should be dead, by all accounts. Yet, you're scooping it from the bucket with your hands now (you tried a tiny net, it wasn't having it).

The tentacles wrap around your fingers as you carry it to its new, temporary home. A deep tank with some things to somewhat mimic its usual domain. You lower it in, and it's hesitant at first. The big, blue eyes of the creature glance up at you, tiny black flaps on either side of its head fluttering before it lets go of your hand.

"Here...Take your time with this, your arm'll grow back...Soon-ish." You say to it as you drop some worms and a snail in for the creature. In a form of a response, it twirls its tentacles a bit, bringing a smile to your lips. It's a cute little thing, and thankfully the bleeding stopped.

You give the little guy some privacy, or as much as you can since the tank is in your room. In your head, you're going over name ideas for the little guy as you change into your pajamas. After brushing your teeth, finishing your nightly routine, and checking on Little Guy one more time, you collapse into bed.

The next morning, you go to check on Little Guy, your unofficial name for the strange dumbo octopus. Halfway through chirping out a good morning, you see that its...Not in its tank. The lid was on when you went to sleep. Was. Was!?

The worms and snail are still untouched at the bottom of the tank as well. Your mind is buzzing with a million different questions, mixed emotions, and--

CRASH

From your kitchen, there is shuffling...Clanking of pots and pans...Muffled curses? You pick up a baseball bat, try to be as intimidating as humanly possible while wearing your pajamas...And head out.

Standing in your kitchen is a man...A very tall, very naked man. Well...He's wearing one of your shirts on its head. The one from yesterday, taken straight from your hamper you assume. On edge, you clutch the metal bat in your hands, slowly inching toward the man who's back is to you. You try not to focus too much on the scars that decorate his pale skin, or the black tattoos that twist all around his body, or the muscles on his back that flex and ripple...

As if to suddenly sense your presence, the man whips around. He's staring at you with wide eyes through the makeshift holes he made in your shirt. You liked that shirt, too...Quickly, he holds his hands up and backs up until his ass hits the counter.

"Tut mir leid...! Ich kann--I can explain!" The man sputters out, his accent a thick German one. "You know me. I...I didn't...The worms, I do not like those ones."

...The worms? You lower the bat, staring at the masked man. Beneath the mask, you may not see his face, but...Something is moving beneath the fabric. Something that begins poking out from the bottom of the "mask". A black tentacle

"I was going to make something, enough for both of us..." He says sheepishly.

You hardly register what he says. Because this is, apparently, the dumbo octopus you took in just last night. You finally allow yourself to lower the bat, and your eyes as you take in his figure. He's well over six feet, damn near seven. The black ink curls and wraps around his torso, limbs, down his legs...

Suddenly your eyes are set on his lower half. You...Can't look away. Between his legs are two...Oh my god, are those--

"Ach...! Sorry!"

Quickly, he grabs for a tea towel...Which dose fuck-all to hide the two dark tentacles where his dick should be. You look back up once he haphazardly drapes it over the two appendages. They're hidden now, somehow keeping the blue tea towel in place as they squirm and twitch...But they were definitely tentacles with no suckers. The base...Did they come out of a slit (cloaca?), or did you really see a bulge at the very base...The questions on the tip of your tongue swirl and swirl until...

"...Do you have a name?" Is what you finally ask this mountain of a man...Or octopus...Octo-man?

"König." He seems to relax slightly as he answers your question. "It's König..." With that, he turns back around and resumes trying to figure something out. "Now, what do you...Do you want bacon? Do you have bacon...? Let me cook."

So, you may not have discovered a new species of dumbo octopus. But he is a new discovery on some level, right...? You should probably keep him here...For a while. Run some tests. Figure out his anatomy...

For science, of course.

[letmedixonyou]

i’m not yours - part 8

summary: Daryl and you are (were?) friends. He dated Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?

words: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of abuse, injuries

A/N: Good day, everyone! I've been literally working on this for a couple of days, editing and adding shit all the time. My partner has helped me with it, he's such a gem <3 I hope you enjoy it!

I would also like to thank everyone who has followed me and liked my shit, it is much appreciated! With your help, I somehow got to 68 followers and over 600 likes which is incredible! Thank you, muffins! <3

Read the previous part here!

Part 9

A few days later

Ribs hurting, body throbbing. Every single muscle screams for help with each move you make. Getting up from bed was a challenge enough, but taking a shower was even worse. You could barely move your limbs around, not to mention bending down or even sitting. The mirror image you see in the morning is somewhat depressing. Standing in front of it, in your black underwear, you assessed the damage with a pained gaze. The cuts and bruises were almost too much to look at. Their shades of purples, pinks, and reds were sticking out like a sore thumb in the morning light sifting through the window. They weren't only covering your body, but also stretching from ear to cheek on one side, with a big fat lip as a cherry on top. You feel a sharp pain in your side when you breathe in —a telltale sign of a few broken ribs.

That evening walk last night wasn't a good idea after all, you thought to yourself.

Moving at a snail's pace, you put on trousers and a grey hoodie, wincing in pain every now and then. Drawing a hood up, you cover most of your face. You weren’t trying to get any attention drawn to you, oh no. Leaving the house, you head towards the mess hall to eat your breakfast. Your hands were in your pockets. All the way down the street, you looked at your slow feet moving on the ground. You could hear people whispering about you. It was clear that somehow they already knew about your injuries. Maybe someone caught a glimpse when you were coming home last night, stumbling through the street. Or maybe you just weren't as good at hiding it as you thought you were.

Out of the blue, you feel a strong hand on your shoulder. You turn around with your fists up, almost hitting the person in the face before you realise that it was Gabriel - the community priest. You swallow hard, and you quickly put your fists down, packing them back into your pockets.

"Y/N, what happened?" He asks, a worried look on his face as he steps a bit closer to look at your face. As a respectful person that he is, he doesn’t touch you or move too close. He just points at your face, his eyes darting to the bruising and cut lip.

"Nothing," you mumble.

"That nothing sure looks like something," he retorted, examining you.

"I am fine, father," you say, stepping away from him and clearing your throat. "But may I suggest praying for all the wicked tonight."

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful, and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," Gabriel quotes a Bible to you and smiles a little.

"It's not my sins we have to worry about, father."

You say, turning around and leaving him standing there, visibly confused. You walk all the way down the street, turning onto a gravel path that winds a little to the left, and you get to the mess hall. By mess hall, you meant the biggest building in Alexandria where some tables and chairs were put down, alongside a modest buffet so people could get their food before work. There usually wasn't a lot to choose from, but no one complained - food was a blessing these days, no matter how bad or good it tasted.

Getting a clean, but worn-out white plate, you put some scrambled eggs on it, a rare sight in the zombie world. You guess someone found some powdered eggs somewhere during the supply run. You don't complain and take some onto your plate, heading to sit at one of the empty tables.

Your jaw hurts as you slowly eat your modest, bland breakfast. The only thing you could eat, really. Soft enough so there's not much chewing involved. You dart your eyes up carefully to look around, and you spot Daryl’s crossbow, poking above the bustling crowd. He barely glances at you across the dining hall, and you know he probably is here to grab his food pack quickly before heading out on a supply run. It was busy anyway, so you weren't surprised he would not see you. You were just another face in the crowd. You didn’t expect him to pay much attention to you. Especially after your past arguments. And his own relationship explosion a few days ago. You resort to going back to your own plate.

All the hope of people not noticing you or your injuries dwindles when you overhear some hushed voices from the table next to the open buffet counter.

"You see her face?"

"Yeah, looks awful."

"Wonder who fucked that up."

"I’d hate to see the other guy."

You try not to react to the whispers and cover up more with your hoodie. You keep on eating, blocking out the noise as much as you can. You usually didn't care about people talking about you. You learned that it didn't matter. But somehow, having been beaten up and having clearly visible injuries made you uncomfortable and anxious when people stared and talked about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you get brought back to reality with a can of soda clash and hiss against the floor from next to the buffet counter. Startled by the noise, your eyes shoot up to look in the direction.

Your eyes meet Daryl's in the crowd. He is looking at you; his eyebrows fly up before he scowls. Horror and concern quickly flash across his face. You look back down to the plate, hoping he doesn’t react, pulling your hood instinctively to hide more. You can hear Daryl's loud grumble even from the place you were sitting, and as you peep around your hood, he's already moving quickly, slipping past everyone. You start to dissociate, and that built-up anxiety starts to blister and pop inside you.

Please don’t...

Please, don’t make a scene...

Maybe he isn’t coming over.

You are broken out of your mind by his hand slamming on the table next to your tray. Daryl’s eyes flashed across your face. Anger, no… rage, completely enveloped his eyes.

“Who did this to you?!” His growl resounded through the mess hall, and you almost flinched at how aggressive that sounded.

„Daryl, please…”

„Do not ‚Daryl, please’ me!” You were sure that if eyes could kill, his would leave you on the floor with two X's instead of eyes.

„I don’t know. It was dark. I didn’t see,” you try to explain. „Please, stop making a scene. I really don’t need any more eyes on me.”

Daryl looks around cautiously. A lot of people were paying attention to you both now, and it made you uncomfortable. He saw that. He knew that. He pursed his lips a little and then gave out a loud exasperated sigh. Before you know it, you’re dragged by your arm towards the doors. His grip was strong and relentless—it almost made you wince in pain. Your head swung down to cover your embarrassment and redness in your cheeks.

Once you are outside and out of the view of all the people, Daryl pulls on your hood, taking it off fully. He stands there, looking at your bruise and your cut lip, as if he were assessing the damage, taking in the sight before him. He steps closer, taking your chin into his fingers, and tilts your head to the side.

„Who the fuck did you piss off lately?” He asks, his gaze falling onto your eyes. When he doesn’t get a response, he scoffs and lets go of your chin. „I need to know who did this.”

„I told you already. I don’t-,” you say, rolling your eyes.

„How bad is it?”

The question falls from his mouth before you even get to finish the sentence. You think about it for a minute, trying to figure out if you should tell him about your broken bones or if you should just leave it alone. Why would you tell him? What’s that going to do? It will just piss him off even more.

„It’s just my face,” you say, and you hear an immediate dry laugh rolling out of his lips.

„Liar,” he says.

You stare at each other for a minute or two. Your throat goes dry, and you bite your lip, making yourself curse and wince in pain. His icy blue eyes were way too much to handle for you. It felt like he could just blow up at any second if you kept being silent, so you muster up some courage. Taking a short breath, you get ready to speak, but Daryl stops you by putting his hand up in front of you.

„Your face just told me everything I needed to know,” he grumbles.

„What?” your voice sounds squeaky, and your eyes widen in surprise.

„You can’t breathe deeply. Your face grimaced when you tried to. You have broken ribs,” he says confidently, and you're stunned at how he reads you like a book without even trying hard. „You shouldn’t even be on your feet if this happened just last night.”

„How did you—?” you ask, but you already know the answer. Of course he’d know. He probably suffered it himself at the hand of his father. Maybe even worse than this.

„It looks fresh; the cut on your lip is not healed yet and still red, which means that it can’t be more than a day or two old.”

„You a doctor or summin’?” You mumble, and you pull your hood up again. You look at him, fiddling with the sleeve of your hoodie. His expression is almost unreadable, but you can see concern and worry on his face.

He rubs his temple before sighing.

„Let’s get you home.”

He takes your arm in his hand, more gently than when he pulled you up from the table but still hard enough that it made you silently wince at his touch. Though painful, his touch soothed you. Somehow, his concern made you feel like there was still a bit of compassion left in his heart for you. As he guided you towards your house, you didn’t protest. Truth be told, you are tired; you want to lie down or at least find a comfortable position to be in.

All the way down the street, Daryl stayed quiet. Didn’t ask questions, just walked beside you, his hand on your arm loosened a bit, so it didn’t hurt you. Once your house comes into view, your eyes dart around to see if any people are watching. They were. From everywhere. Of course… This wouldn’t go unnoticed—you and Daryl suddenly beside each other after months with no real contact. Plus, the hood on your head probably didn’t help.

Daryl walks into your house, drags you inside, and slams the doors behind him. You jump a little at the sound, but you keep your eyes glued to the ground.

„Look at me,” he says, his commanding tone making you bring your eyes up almost immediately.

He steps closer to you and once again pulls your hood off of your head with one swift motion. Daryl’s eyes glance all over your face, as if trying to read through the wounds about the people who did this to you. He takes a deep breath and huffs quietly before stepping away and motioning to the living room and the couch. You take a few steps and then lower yourself on the couch carefully, trying not to get any pain.

„Here,” Daryl says and puts one hand on your shoulder and the other wraps around your waist carefully to help you move down the couch into a half-seated, almost laid-down position on one of your sides. Your legs get put on the coffee table. „The best position to make sure you’re not hurting.”

„Thanks,” you mumble quietly.

„What do you need?” he asks. „Water? Pillows? Books?”

„All of the above.”

He huffs a half laugh and stands up, disappearing from view. You wondered why he’s helping you. He’s been absent from your life for months, and now he’s back, and at first glance, you’d say nothing had happened between you two. But you knew it wasn’t the truth. You argued. Badly. You couldn’t just go back to normal that easily, could you? Your mind also itched to ask about the fight he had with Leah. You wanted to ask if it was about you or if you just dreamt the entire thing, but you bit your tongue.

Daryl shows up with pillows from your bed, a book from the bedside table, and then goes to the kitchen to get some water. He brings you a glass and puts it on the armrest of the sofa.

„You should sleep in an upright position; it will be more comfortable,” he says, propping you with pillows on each side.

„You mean I sleep here?”

„Yeah,” he nods. „When my pops used to beat me up, breaking some ribs, I spent a lot of time in a position in which you are right now. It helped to ease the pain a bit.”

„Right,” you say and nod affirmatively. "How long?"

"As long as it takes for your ribs to feel better."

He stands there for a bit in complete silence, scanning your body like he had x-rays in his vision and could see the broken bones through your clothes. When he looks into your eyes, you could've sworn you saw some emotions that reminded you of the old times.

Care.

He quickly averts his gaze after less than a second and he nods once again, heading towards the front doors. He reaches for the door handle, but before he leaves, he speaks again.

„I am going to find out who did this. I promise they will get what they deserve.”

[grlsinterrupted]

heyyy!!it’s me 🐟 AGAIN sorry if I send so many requests but yknow the one I sent a couple days ago abt curly shepherd or wtv but you didn’t know much about his character blah blah blah it’s not that important I was fine with it but instead of curly shepherd but it as Johnny Cade where they are fake wrestling while hanging out whatever and then it’s dally who brings curtis!readers brothers over and shows them saying how he ‘told them so’ and Johnny and Curtis!readers brothers are just a tad embarrassed but also muddy from playing in the dirt!

and they called it puppy love .. ✶⋆.˚

playfighting with johnny | johnny cade x curtis ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

-

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for your eldest brothers to leave you and your younger brother at home by yourselves— darry and soda worked jobs, so they left at the crack of dawn and came home right before dinner. you and pony were used to this by now and the two of you found your own ways to kill the time alone. you typically spent your nights catching up on some homework or baking whatever came to mind. pony, on the other hand, would read and write; though, occasionally, he’d invite his best friend, johnny cade.

the first time johnny came over, he had bruises and cuts scattered all over his olive skin. he was quite frail, as if there were a skeleton walking through your doorway. you could see the terror in his puppy-like eyes, fear coursing through his veins as he trembled beneath an oversized jean jacket. you offered him a batch of freshly baked cookies, to which he devoured within a matter of seconds while he sat in front of the crackling fire, the only thing able to provide him some sort of warmth.

today was the rare occurrence that the two of you were alone. pony, johnny, and dally originally planned to swing by the dingo and grab milkshakes, but johnny took this as an opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with you.

the sky is painted with shades of amber peeking through the clouds as the crisp breeze sings to you a soft melody, allowing entry into a state of serenity. you wave at your reflection shimmering in the lake, completely unaware of the mud below you staining your white shoes. the sound of rustling grass follows behind johnny’s footsteps as he approaches you with a pebble clasped between his fingers. he then tosses the pebble into the lake, coincidentally on landing where your reflection is and splashing a few droplets of water onto your face.

you whip your head back, wiping a droplet off your cheek with the back of your hand. “hey, you splashed me!”

“you’ve still got a little over there.” johnny lets out a light chuckle, stepping closer towards you and wiping the remaining water with his thumb. his touch was so soft, just a light graze along the cheek, yet it was enough to flush your cheeks into a tomato-red hue. you instinctively turn your head to the side in an attempt to hide the fact that you’ve got the words ‘i like johnny’ all over your face.

he frowns, gently lifting your chin to the opposite direction. “c’mon, why’re you hiding your face?”

you playfully slap his wrist away, turning your head back into its original position.

johnny raises a brow, biting back a chuckle. “are you trying to fight me right now?”

you begin to take a few steps back. “yeah, and i bet 20 cents that i’ll w-“

before you can say the word ‘win’, you stumble on a rock, falling backwards onto the grass. johnny laughs, kneeling in front of you and reeling his fist back at the pace of a snail moving. you grab onto both of his fists, struggling to hold them up with your giggles.

the two of you are covered in mud and dirt, but that’s really the least of your concerns right now— in fact, you haven’t a care in the world. you’re too focused on the way johnny is practically towering over you right now, and the way his smile looks so authentic whenever he’s around you.

a few minutes into your back and forth playfighting, you catch the faint sound of grass rustling in your direction. with every second, the volume of the rustling increases; whoever’s there is getting closer and closer.

you and johnny pause, looking over to the side. to your surprise, dallas was right in front of you, point at johnny and scoffing. he didn’t come alone, either; your brothers were right beside him, their mouths agape.

“see, i told ya so! they’ve been hangin’ out this whole time!”

you stand up, releasing your hold on johnny’s fist. the embarrassment practically seared through your cheeks, the red hue from being with johnny alone darkening into a deep scarlet. peering over your shoulder, you realize that johnny is just as embarrassed as you are. you can only imagine how long darry’s lecture will be once you get home..

‘and they called it puppy loooooveeee, oh i guess they’ll never know how a young heart, how it really feels, and why i love her so’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[mayasaurusss]

being lotties controversially young gf and finally convincing her to take a day off to go to the beach !

This is shorter than usual, I apologize for that!

And also, I apologize for the misspelt grammar guys, I was feeling a bit tired today😅

Lottie who feels super embarassed about going to the beach with you :(

She's not embarassed by begin with you, rather, she's worried what other people might think of your relationship.

At fifthy years old a woman should be with a parter her age, no?

You held her in your arms, gently whispering reassurances to her, that "I don't care what people think. I want us to be happy regardless".

So, with a little effort, you manage to convince Lottie to take a day off. She needs a little vacation after all.

The ride to the beach is joyful. Despite the years, some things never change, and one of them is the anticipation of a nice, summer day spent at the beach.

Lottie who is so eager to go to the beach after years of constant therapy and work :(

The sun works wonders on her tired body.

Lottie who is a bit self concious of how her body looks, so it takes a while for her to actually change into her bikini.

Lottie who suprisingly resembles a bird.

As in, she will collect every single strange trinket or shell that she'll find.

Lottie who goes exploring while you slumber under the parasol and who gets back with countless of strange shells, sticks and a smile on her face.

"Look, this is an empty worm snail! Isn't it beautiful?!" Lottie who is suprisingly a nerd when it comes to these things. She will try to make a puntcture on the shell and make necklaces out of them. For you, she reserves the most colourful shell.

Her courting routine is the exact same one as birds.

Lottie who is initially skeptical of bathing, but when you so kindly ask her, with those eyes of yours, caves in. How could she deny you?

She's a bit affected by the wave of cold water that hits her, but when she gets used to it, it makes her feel refreshed.

Lottie who looks like a carefree teenager again. Who is happy to finally enjoy a summer day withouth work or the voices taunting her.

Lottie who will dive deep underwater on purpouse when you're not looking, who will attack you from underneath and drag you down with her.

She will apologize for hacing scared you, but will nevertheless have fun while doing so.

Lottie who falls asleep under the shade of the parasol, looking like a goddess.

When no one's around, she will kiss you so gently, as if handling a precious shell.

Lottie who becomes flushed when you kiss her in front of other people, but who will become more and more confident as the kisses go on.

Who will place her lips on yours whenever somebody eyes you seductivley. Who will be jelaous and will feel the need to show you off.

Lottie who gets super sleepy once the day comes to an end. When you drag her to the car, she falls asleep immediatley.

When you come back home, you force her to take a shower through her sleepiness. You can't have sand in the bed sheets!

Lottie who now smells of the sand and water, who falls asleep holding you close to her chest. Who can finally be at peace with her one true love.

[waldau]

hello!! big fan here! i think you’re super talented and cool 🫶🏼 can i perhaps request a friends to lovers thing for vernon? do you think he’d be the first one to break and confess or would it be you? if it’s the latter, how does he react? any thoughts on this would be fine really, even if you don’t want to make it into a full fledged story. just love talking about and thinking about vernon.

darling anon i think you broke my brain because i've never written so much in a single day (also thank you so much!!! <3). i love vernon and i've kind of been in a vernon spiral myself recently. i hope you like this :)

chroma — chwe hansol | 2,520 words | fluff

chroma (noun) — the purity of a colour, or its freedom from white or grey. reader and vernon are best friends who SCREAM become lovers. briefly ft dokyeom.

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

at first glance, you and vernon are opposites.

not exactly grumpy and sunshine opposites, but if you're both the same colour, you're a shade or two brighter than him. which means that you're similar with different energy levels, and honestly? you love your dynamic.

your friends notice that outside of the group, you're the one he's the closest to — so it only makes sense that he's also the one you're the closest to.

he's always near you whenever you're hanging out with your friends — whether you're sitting right next to each other or across the room, he meets your eyes from time to time, if only to check in on you, or to allude to an inside joke when someone speaks.

(you have way too many inside jokes; an unhealthy amount, even.)

he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely. or you crash at each other's places for the night if you're too tired.

you always look forward to whenever he gets random bursts of energy and proceeds to tell you about stuff he finds interesting. but you also use him as a pillow when he becomes extremely quiet, and honestly? it's pretty easy to co-exist with vernon regardless of the silence or the lack of it, because you always match his energy.

he sends you pictures of whatever he thinks you'll like, whether it's a meme or a sunset, but sometimes he sends you stuff he likes — like a cool monument he saw in new york or his cat or a picture of two snails on the side of the road with the caption "us?"

seriously, opening his texts is like a wild card (in a good way).

he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely.

you're slightly more affectionate than him, which is something he doesn't mind.

he's not the first to initiate hugs, but you can trust that he's always going to find your hand for a high five or a fist bump or a quick side hug.

if you're sitting together on the couch listening to music or watching something on the television, he lets you loop your arm through his like it's something you do every day (which it most definitely is).

vernon wasn't very physical in the beginning of your friendship, but now you're used to a light brush of his hand against yours, your shoulders bumping for a second or two, a poke to your cheek — just your things.

now the thing is this: you have a crush on vernon. a huge crush that doesn't seem to be going away any time soon.

"i knew it!" dokyeom says shrilly, and you wince. you love him, but you're not sure if he's capable of keeping your secret.

"was it that obvious?"

"of course it was! i've seen the way you look at him. like he's the funniest guy in the room, even if he's not. or like he's the hottest guy in the room. which he—"

"—is," you finish, and bite your tongue. dokyeom doesn't need to know exactly how in deep you are.

dokyeom shakes his head. "i can't believe he doesn't know."

"kyeom, if you tell him, i swear—"

"i won't! i kind of want to see how long it takes for him to realize."

"i don't think he will," you say, looking over to where vernon is sitting on the couch and arguing with seungkwan and seungcheol about the best movie from 2008.

"how do you know that?"

you shrug. "i've tried dropping subtle hints. he's just...oblivious."

dokyeom follows your gaze and sighs. "he really is. but if you ask me," he says, turning to raise an eyebrow. "this really could go somewhere."

every year, you spend valentine's day together.

it started as a joke the first time — vernon's date somehow cancelled on him at the last moment, and he showed up to your place with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

you thought your heart was going to fall out of your body, but he sheepishly explained he didn't know where else to go, or who else to give them to.

it turned into a rant about how he didn't believe in or care about the holiday anymore.

but now it's your tradition to enjoy each other's company rolling your eyes and booing at cheesy movies.

(you wish they'd come to life, specifically with vernon, but he doesn't have to know.)

he isn't the best at comforting you with words. you learned that a long time ago and know it well even now. yet he's the first person you turn to when something's wrong.

you're wrapped in a blanket on vernon's sofa, a hot mug of cocoa in front of you next to a bowl of snacks, but your mind isn't on any of them. why, you think. why, why, why me. you feel terrible for the space you're occupying, even though you've curled up into a ball.

"hey," vernon says from above you, and the next thing you know, you're pulled into him. "i don't know what to say to make it better, and...i don't know what else i can do, but tell me, okay?"

you nod.

"i'm sorry."

you stop crying at that, trying to blink away your tears but failing. "why?"

"he was a dick, and you never deserved someone so shitty."

you try to inhale, but it's shaky. "i'm just...so tired," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't know why i keep attracting idiots like him. and i hate that you always have to see me like this."

"like this?"

"in pieces. crying. whatever."

"you're not in pieces," vernon says, running his hand over your back. "you're sad. it happens. and i don't mind being here, okay? i'm always here. sorry."

you snort. "you've apologized more to me than he's ever done at this point."

"now you know who to keep around longer," vernon smiles.

you wonder if vernon's aware of the things he does. he talks to you like there's no one else he'd rather be with at the moment. he bends down to meet your eyes when you're talking about something, and you're amazed he hasn't noticed you short-circuiting in the middle of your sentences more than a few times now. he finds the most random things to give you every now and then.

"huh?"

"pebble. reminded me of pou."

"pou? vernon, that was so long ago!"

"do you want me to skip this rock?"

"no, wait—"

fights with him aren't really fights, because one of you always caves in and has to make up.

"your neck's going to hurt," you hear vernon say softly, probably trying not to wake you up. but you weren't really asleep in the first place.

"why do you care?" you grumble, sitting up straight and wincing when your neck does, in fact, hurt.

"i don't hate you just because we had a fight," he says, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "sore necks suck."

you chew on your cheek for a while, not wanting to say the words you know are inevitable. "fighting with you sucks, too."

he says nothing; just hugs you tighter.

you're surprised at how well you've adapted to vernon going out on dates.

it wasn't easy, you'll admit. at first it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest while also being crushed, but now it's okay (maybe because he hasn't been dating as much recently — you can't remember the last one he even went on).

you're nothing if not a supportive best friend, so you're okay with the few times his dates go well enough to tell you about.

you teasingly tell him not to give you too many details, but you wonder if he knows why you really ask that of him.

both of you act like a married couple, according to your friends. it made you blush at first, but there's no point reacting to it anymore because it's just not true. vernon doesn't like you the way you like him, and the way you're affectionate with each other is...hard to explain. just friends, you say, even though you wish you were more.

"you're dishgushting," dokyeom says, mouth stuffed full of pizza while he pours himself some coke.

you give him a look. "you or me?"

dokyeom nods, chewing aggressively before swallowing his bite. "you. and vernon. can't stop giving each other those eyes all the time. makes me sick."

"...eyes?"

"like you need a room or something. like there's no one else in here with you guys."

"we don't do that, kyeom."

he snorts inelegantly. "ask anyone. you're lucky jeonghan hasn't snitched on you yet."

and maybe, just maybe, vernon treats you somewhat differently than he treats his friends.

you always get the first bite of his food, always listen to new vinyls he gets on the weekends, sprawled out on the floor and letting the music seep into your skin, always get to steal his hoodies whenever you're cold — you can't think of any other friend of his who gets the same treatment.

but that's just best friend privilege.

at least that's what you tell yourself.

after vernon comes back from his latest tour, he becomes more touchy with you — resting a hand on your thigh, tracing the shell of your ear, linking pinkies with you.

maybe it's just his way of reconnecting with you after being away for so long.

but doesn't he realize what he's doing to your heart?

probably not, you think, when he wraps his arms around your waist one morning when you're in front of his vinyl collection, trying to pick something you think you'll like.

"sol?" you ask, patting his hands before resuming browsing through his shelf.

"hey."

"what's up?"

"tired."

"shouldn't you be in bed, then?"

"you weren't there."

you pause, the magdalene vinyl in your hand threatening to fall before you place it back. "i'm never there."

"wanna change that?"

"what?"

"what."

you think it's some silly pick-up line he's trying to test on you, so you gently push him back to his bedroom, threatening to leave his home if he doesn't sleep for a few more hours.

but it doesn't end there.

those pick-up lines pop up in the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected company. you shake your head and laugh them off, but you wonder why he's behaving like this.

there's one possible explanation for it, but you're not going to let yourself walk down that path. not unless he does it first.

vernon's quiet on the walk back to your car from the supermarket, half your groceries with you and the other half with him. he doesn't say anything when you point out his shoelace is untied, or his hair is sticking up a bit weirdly for his liking, or even the fact that there's a cat sitting right next to your car before it skitters away a few seconds later.

you're not worried. vernon does have those moments where he zones out so hard no one can get him back for a while, and this seems to be one of them.

"i love you," he finally says.

your hand fumbles with the grip of your bag. not cool, not when there's a couple of glass jars in there. there's going to be nothing cute to put the cookies in if you break them now.

"i love you too?" you offer, because it's not uncommon for you to say it to each other. it's just that vernon's never brought it up unprompted before.

"no. not how you think."

not how you think? how...

oh.

you can only stare at vernon, mind running a million miles an hour while he refuses to look at you, suddenly finding interest in that untied shoelace.

"love me love me?"

he nods, almost imperceptible if you weren't looking for it. it gives you a sudden boost of courage, of happiness, of everything good. you weren't wrong, after all. you put the rest of the groceries in the trunk and turn to face him.

you've seen this sight hundreds of times before — vernon with his messy hair, in this very hoodie with jam stains on the left sleeve, and those brown eyes that light up from the inside when the sun hits them just the right way and make him look like the most handsome man in the world — but it's like you've been seeing the world, even vernon, in monochrome till he said those words.

chroma.

"oi," you say, grabbing his face in your hands. "sol."

he just blinks.

"are you sure? absolutely sure?"

"yeah," he says, voice a bit rougher than usual, and you see yourself in his eyes for a moment. "i am. but i'm sor—"

you shut him up with a quick peck to his lips, uncaring of who might be seeing you right now. you know you're going to be embarrassed about it, squeal about it to dokyeom, bury your face in your pillow and question if any of it was real, but right now, it doesn't matter.

you've shocked vernon, for once. it feels good. he's staring at you with his mouth open, hands clutching your wrists like there's no tomorrow.

"you're not the only one," you explain, all bravado fizzling out when his full focus lands only on you.

"oh? yeah?" he asks, pulling you closer.

"mm."

he rubs his thumb across one of your wrists. "do you have eggs?"

"...what?" back to regularly scheduled programming, then. trust vernon not to make it weird.

"eggs. or ice cream. anything that needs the fridge. because i want to take you out on a date right now."

some things change: vernon becomes your boyfriend. you move in together a few months later. it's not the first time you've met his mother, but you're still nervous.

but the best thing of all is that he's yours now.

he even tells you how he realized he loved you back.

"i just...remembered you arguing with me about whether penne or fusilli was better, and my only thought was, i want this with you. for however long i could have it. i think i just loved you for so long, but...i didn't realize it was that love. i finally understood why kyeom-hyung kept telling me to get my shit together."

"sol—"

"no one knows me like you do and i don't want anyone else to. yeah."

"sol, babe, i was just asking if you want me to take out the trash."

"you...oh," he says, grinning in that shy way he does. "thought you asked me if i wanted you. but hey, if i'm trash for you, you're legally obligated to take me out, right?"

i've never put pictures before but he's SO boyfriend material, look at him

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 13

Another part so soon! I'm on a roll and already have start the next couple chapters! I hope you enjoy. This was was just kinda indulgent.

Warnings! SMUT! Mihawk knows what he is doing with his tongue. Fingerfucking. Kissing. Some dirty talk. Mihawk is a pervert.

Masterlist

It is 29 days later, you know, because that's how long ago you planted your strawberries, when you decide that you are tired of beating around the bush. Sure, the two of you kissed, and Dracule liked to touch you and explore you, but ever since that one delightful morning, the well-groomed man never went very far. He always pulled away at the last second when you were just on the verge of begging him for more. You were sick of waiting for Mihawk to make the first move, but you definitely weren't brave enough to make it yourself. 

So that left you having a conversation with him. One that made you embarrassed just to think about. Dracule had phoned earlier that day, the snail phone was the best gift he'd ever given you, and let you know that he would be arriving soon, so you had at least two hours before he got here.

The bedroom was first on your list. It needed a good cleaning, and that would take the longest. Time was running out by the time you finished fluffing the quilts and pillows, and you dashed to the bathroom to wash and shave in the appropriate areas. You knew what you wanted and had to be prepared for it. 

You are still wrapped up in a towel when you hear the front door open, and Hank gives a happy woof to the only man who can just waltz inside your home. You curse yourself for not remembering to grab any clothes and peek out the door of the bathroom. Just as you are trying to creep to the bedroom across the small hallway, a looming shadow blocks the light, and you are caught in a yellow-eyed gaze. 

“Catch you at a bad time, Snow Angel?” Dracule teases with a mean twist of his lips. You blush and quickly retreat to the bedroom, but the warlord is right on your tail. 

“I was trying to finish up before you got here,” you tell him as Mihawk follows you inside and shuts the door behind him. You round the bed, putting the queen-size between the two of you. “You are early.” 

The warlord scoffs, “I am never late or early, Darling. I always arrive precisely when I mean to,” he eyes you from over the bed, and you gulp when you see his gaze darken a shade, “And what a treat it is to arrive home to see you in nothing but a towel.” 

The word home catches in your brain, leaving you stalling a bit. He's said it once or twice before, and it always leaves you a mess. How can he call this place home so casually when Dracule himself has told you that the sea has been his home for most of his life? It left you reeling every time you realized how much you mean to him. How much he meant to you. 

A warm hand landing on your arm knocks you from your thoughts, and you jerk your head up to see Dracule giving you a look of concern. You smile at him, feeling bold in his boat of playfulness. 

“Maybe you should take it off?” You suggest and are treated with the rare sight of taking Mihawk by surprise. His eyes widen, and you watch in fascination as his golden eyes turn molten. A mean smirk curls his mouth at the side. 

“Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you, sweet thing? Do you want me to show you all the ways I could make you come?” Dracule snarls the filthy words, pushing himself closer to you at the end of every question. Mihawk expects you to back down at his aggression, at showing you how much he desires to have you, to taste you.

A whine leaves your throat, and your hands grasp the edges of the long coat that Dracule still wears. It isn’t often that your warlord stayed dressed in his rather flashy regalia, and it made you ache all the more for the pirate. You force your thoughts into order and lock eyes with his molten gaze. You need him to know that you are being truthful, “I have been wanting you to touch me for a long time, Mihawk. I just didn’t know how to ask.”

The warlord is quiet as he searches your eyes for any hint of uncertainty. When he finds none, Dracule takes a half step back, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

 “Lay on the bed, on your back,” Mihawk orders and looks down at you under the wide brim of his hat. He looks dangerous like this, and you are reminded that Dracule is so much stronger than you are. He clicks his tongue when you take a beat too long, “Don’t keep me waiting, Angel.” 

You turn to hop up on the bed, shimmying back so that your head lies against the pillows. A shiver wracks your body, and you swallow harshly when Dracule follows you up. He rests on his knees, and you can’t help how your devil fruit reacts when he reaches for the edges of your towel. It’s one thing for Mihawk to see your upper half, you liked when he laved your breasts with attention, but he has never seen you naked before. 

“Relax, sweet thing,” Dracule rumbles above you and leans down so that he can kiss your brow, “I will stop when you ask me.” 

“Okay,” you whisper and sigh heavily when you take a deep breath and relax into the bed. Dracule kisses your cheek, and then he pulls away to take hold of your towel, easing it away from where you have it tucked around you. A low, pleased sound escapes him when you are revealed to him. 

“Beautiful, every inch of you,” Mihawk praises and then proceeds to pinch your left nipple. You hiss at the prick of pain, though a soft groan follows when he rubs your sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand follows the curve of your body down to your hip where he rubs gentle circles there, and you relax further into the bed, eyes fluttering closed as you give up control of the situation to Dracule. 

Mihawk soaks in every reaction you have to his touch. He experiments, smoothing his hands up and down your body, seeing what you enjoy best. When you like it soft, and when you like when he gets a little rougher. He scoots down, ringed eyes raking down your body until he spies the apex of your legs and the neat thatch of hair that hides your most sensitive parts away. 

The warlord grasps your legs and lifts them from the bed. He gently opens your legs, pushing them up so that your feet rest on the bed and your knees sway in the air. Mihawk kisses your knee, smoothing his calloused hands down your thighs, and curls one around the inside of your leg, keeping you spread for him. 

Frost has begun to creep up your legs, and the cold of your devil fruit and the heat that Dracule puts off make every unexpected touch feel like a live wire against your skin. One hand moves to skate down your leg and dusts the frost away.

“I’ve got you, Darling,” Mihawk croons above you, and then his middle and ring fingers are sliding through the folds of your cunt. Your eyes fly open and you look up only to lock eyes with the entranced look that the warlord sports. He looks in a trance as he gently rubs his fingers back and forth, humming in content when slick gathers on them. 

You watch, eyes tracking his hand, as Dracule brings those two fingers up to his mouth and wraps his lips around them. He cleans his fingers and gives you such a lewd grin afterward that you have to look away from him. Who knew that such a sophisticated man was such a pervert?

There isn’t much time to think about it, not when Mihawk slides those same fingers back through your folds, stroking you in a perfect rhythm that has you arching off the bed. 

Dracule's other hand holds you down, making sure you stay still for this, and crooks his middle finger, slowing to a stop. He had made sure to get you significantly wet just for this, and he sighed in delight when he sank his digit inside of your throbbing hole. Your pussy sucks him down to the last knuckle, so wet from slick and his saliva that it is an easy stretch. 

You suck in a sharp breath at the intrusion. It doesn’t hurt. You’ve touched yourself before, but having someone else do it is an entirely new feeling of bliss. You whine when Dracule begins a slow pace, and it isn’t long before he is pressing his ring finger in along with the other. Pleasure builds, and you lose yourself, hips rutting against his hand as heat coils tight in your stomach.

Mihawk’s thumb suddenly catches your clit and the sharp press against the over sensitive button has you hiss his name as you come, walls clenching around his fingers and you see spots with how hard you've clenched your eyes. 

Dracule smirks, satisfaction curling hot in his chest. His cock aches in his pants, and he longs to shuck them off and slip inside your inviting warmth. But he holds himself back, instead gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering cunt and sticking them right back in his mouth to clean off. 

“Is that all you want, Dear One?” Mihawk murmurs above you and dips to press his cheek to your own, lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, “Or do you want more?” 

While he waits, Mihawk presses chaste kisses and sucks gentle hickies along your skin, the hand on your hip rubs soothing circles there, occasionally dipping down to touch your swollen clit teasingly. 

You roll your head, lips seeking his in a kiss that is more tongue and teeth than anything else. Dracule licks into your mouth, spit leaking down your chin as the messy kiss continues. You shift your hips, making his hand fall between your legs, and you break the kiss long enough to plead for more. 

“Don't stop, Dracule, please.” 

The warlord doesn't need to be told twice. He kisses you one last time before sliding down and taking a nipple between his teeth. His thumb finds your clit and presses harsh half circles into it, sending shocks through your body. Your hands find his hair, weaving through the dark locks and scraping your nails along his scalp. Mihawk growls low in his throat at the blunt pain, and bites your nipple in retaliation. 

You yelp and send a glare down at him, but Dracule is already soothing the hurt with a sweet lap of his tongue that has you sighing. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first before he shuffles further, trailing a hot line of kisses down past your navel. You open your eyes, licking your lips when you realize how far he's moved down. 

“What,” you swallow harshly, “What are you doing?” 

The look you receive is one of pure want, his ringed eyes blazing as they lock with your own, “I want to taste you, sweet thing. I've not had my fill of you quite yet.” 

The sound that leaves your throat is a mix of a squeak and a moan, and you drop your head back to the pillow, “O-okay,” you stutter out. You weren't about to argue with him. 

Dracule smirks and presses a kiss right below your belly button, and then down he goes. He shoulders your thighs open, and then looks up to watch your expression when he lolls his tongue out and swipes the hot muscle along your puffy folds. He watches your mouth drop in a silent moan, hips stuttering in his hold as he does it again. 

Mihawk swirls his tongue, saliva pooling in his mouth and dripping down to join the slick clinging to your pussy. It's lewd, and messy, and your cheeks are on fire as you listen to the wet sounds of Dracule eating you out. 

You curse when his lips find your clit, nails digging into his scalp when Mihawk sucks on the nub, tongue lapping until you are jerking your hips and accidentally forcing his face in your cunt as you come. You hear him groan as you gush around his face, and you shake when you feel his tongue probe forward to lap at your hole, making sure not a drop of your essence was wasted. 

You release his hair, and when Dracule rises, the warlord looks thoroughly debauched. Slick and spit are smeared along his face, and his usual perfect facial hair has been mused this way and that. Mihawk looks devine like this, and arousal is already stirring in your gut, just looking at him. He wipes his mouth and then shuffles up the bed to lay beside you. 

Dracule pulls you into his arms, curling them around you and tugging until you lay splayed across him. He hums as your weight settles across him, hand sweeping into your hair to gently massage your scalp.

“Are you okay, dear one?” He asks quietly and peers down at you, yellow eyes seeming to glow in the low light of your bedroom. 

You nod easily, “Better than okay, Dracule,” you assure him and place a loving kiss on his chest. The two of you still needed to have an actual talk about this, but that could wait. The two of you would have plenty of time later. 

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @djbumblebee @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

[antediluvianechoes]

Edmontosaurus, Ely Kish

The smell of a swamp is rich and thick. It hangs in the air like the morning mists, but lingers far longer than any fog. Edmontosaurus loves the smell. It smells like home. She wades deep through the soup, scooping up fallen vegetation, letting the water pour from her bill. The sound of the little splashes is so satisfying. Once a snail was in a mouthful of weeds, but its shell crunching in her mouth didn't even startle her—that's how pleased she is in the bogs. When the sun is high and bakes the swamp, she rests in the shade of the taller trees, shakes gnats from her hide, and dozes to the songs of birds and small pterosaurs. When evening comes she always manages to find her herd in the drier places and sleeps in their company. But when the sky lightens before dawn, she moseys off to enjoy the swamps alone again.

[the-aftonsparv]

What are your headcanons for this dipshit (my scrungle splorpo Donatello Ninja Turtle, from Mutant Mayhem and also Tales of the TMNT 2024)

OOH okay!! i was never entirely a tmnt kid all i know about them is like. pizza and radioactive substances so here goes!

glasses have broken too many times he has about. twelve spares. half of which are broken and wrapped with duct tape poor guy

ooh headphones!! listens to the spider-man into the spiderverse soundtrack (bc that’s what i used to do lol)

his favorite color is purple (bc he’s wearing it a lot) BUT! specifically this one shade of purple he found at a home depot called like. snail’s breath or something

lowkey is friends with at least three woodland animals and is seconds away from his disney princess moment

there you go!! honestly gonna add tmnt to my “to watch” list :]

OH!! i started a sideblog for this btw! @goofy-character-headcanons !!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

What an intriguing 1964 mid-century modern in Lubbock, Texas. The 4bd, 3ba home has some interesting one-of-a-kind features for only $375K.

Nice large living room with a pitched ceiling, beams, built-in shelving unit, brick wall and fireplace.

I love the tree detail and tile floor.

Open concept living/dining room combo.

The current owner did a jungle mural, but it also looks like a girl hiking in the forest. A little confusing.

An open sun room with a bar is off the area. So convenient for entertaining.

Very large, long kitchen.

The spot lit art over the cabinets conveys to the new owner.

There's also some coordinating art painted on the cabinet doors above the microwave.

The primary bedroom has a wall of storage, but if the shelves get messy and company is coming, simply pull down the coordinating shades that match the wallpaper, and cover it up.

The en-suite has a neon mirror and a large tiled shower.

The toilet is separate and has lots of shelving.

Bedroom #2 is large and has 2 big windows with Plantation shutters.

Bedroom #3 has a wall of built-in shelving and a desk.

The 4th bedroom is a good size, also.

This room with the starry snail shell lights must be a family room.

Bath #2 has a large double sink vanity and original pink tiles.

Stairs down to the finished basement feature an outdoor lantern. Looks like all the picture hangers conveyed, too.

The basement has lots of storage and a room with a washer/dryer hookup. Must be damp down here b/c they left a dehumidifier.

In the back, there's a large deck featuring a tree.

There's no lawn to worry about. Cute little gazebo, too.

Statue w/a small water feature.

Tiny chapel?

And, a fountain on the side of the house.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

🧡 A Helping Hand 🧡 (Clara Clawthorne x Human! Reader)

Summary: You (the reader) are having a tough time paying for an ingredient that you need for a meal you plan to make. However, a helpful witch shows up and decides to lend a hand.

Ao3 version

Commission art here.

"Clara" is my wittewife oc.

Enjoy!

Being a human in a place such as the Boiling Isles was a difficult task.

In certain locations, the days were hotter than Heck, and at night, it felt as though every living thing was attempting to devour you whole.

It didn't help that you didn't have magical powers or one of those palispal (palismen?) things to help you escape from danger whenever you got into it, and trust me, you were practically always in danger.

You always felt hungry as well, as most of the food (if you could even call it that) on the Isles was not suitable for human consumption.

Luckily, after some observation and careful research, you managed to distinguish between which foods were and were not safe to eat.

Speaking of food, you were at the town marketplace at a stall.

Unfortunately, you are currently in conflict with a stall owner.

"One small thumbkin costs ten snails," the troll vendor stated to you in a gruff tone, directing an untrimmed nail at the coins displayed on the table.

You only had nine.

"B-But that's all I have," you stuttered out, hoping the stallholder would show you the slightest bit of sympathy.

"Can't you make some sort of exception this one time?"

The troll shook their head, resulting in you sighing.

You were unsure of what to do.

This thumbkin was necessary for the stew you planned to make at home.

Just as you were about to collect your coins and move on to the next stall, you witnessed a hand drop a single snail on the table.

"Here," a voice sweeter than the sweetest fire bee honey had said as you were handed the thumb-shaped pumpkin.

"Oh!" That was rather fast and unexpected.

"Thank--," as you slowly turned to face and thank this stranger, you let out a small gasp, your cheeks warming a soft red.

This witch, who had cast her sweet smile on you, had a warm and friendly face and a cute blue jay hiding in her long hair, which was orange at the top and brown on the bottom.

She was undoubtedly the prettiest witch you had ever seen.

"... You," you finished with a whisper as you gulped.

A bright giggle bubbled out of Clara.

"You're welcome!" she told you as she walked along the bustling market without a care in the world.

Observing the witch walk off, you slowly lowered your gaze to the thumbkin in your hand.

It was colored a shade of orange-brown, just like her hair.

As your fingers touched the fruit, you pictured yourself running loving fingers through the witch's silky hair.

[swampstew]

1-800-GRANDLINEBLING ♥ Call Me On My Shell Phone

To celebrate 1K+ followers, I opened up phone lines to the crews! Part 1 of 3 ~ X reader (and one OC) with Kid, Killer Law, Zoro, and Sanji for myself, @quinloki @icy-spicy @yamat0 @mandiemegatron and @leftsidebonfire Part 2 | Part 3

You are now being connected to...

Purururu purururu puru—

Kid: Hey babe, I know it’s been a while since we talked. Even longer since I’ve seen ya…and I miss ya…so damn much. I’ll be back from my trip soon and when I do, I’mma make it be like I never even left. Don’t make any plans for the next few weeks - yeah weeks, you’re gonna be stuck with me for a minute! HAAH? Sorry the line is busy, but I’ll see you real soon. I love you.

Waking up to start your morning routine, you were interrupted when you heard a commotion in your backyard. Hurriedly, you investigated and found that some kind of animal had gotten into your she-shed and left a mess. After you cleaned it up, you went back to your bedroom and was stunned to find your bed made up and decorated with flowers and treats.

"KID!" you squealed as the giant scooped you up from behind, burying his nose in your neck, softly kissing your skin until he reached your lips. Ravenous as he sweetly but impatiently kissed you, leaving traces of his favorite red shade smeared all over you.

"Hey," he finally whispered, kissing your cheek, "Get dressed, I'm taking you out. I have a whole day planned for us."

Killer: Hey gorgeous, it's good to hear your voice. Man I really miss you, actually we'll be docking very soon. Is it alright if I take up your day and night? Heh, you're so sweet. I'll be sticking around for a bit before the next trip, and I'd like to spend that time with you. Yeah? Awesome. I'll be there soon. I'm cooking you the best pasta you'll ever have!"

Killer did not specify which day he was visiting, which made you all the happier when someone knocked on your front door and it turned out to be your new beau. You giggled as he scooped you into a bear hug, your legs lifted off the ground by his strength and height difference.

"Mmmm there she is," he sighed behind his face mask, nuzzling your face to push the fabric away. "Gods I missed the way you feel in my hands," he kissed your cheek softly.

"Kiiilllller not outside," you whine.

"As you wish," he huffed, rushing inside and kicking your door close as you left out a delighted shriek. "We won't be cooped up in here all the time though, I think I owe my girl some spoiling and pampering."

Law: Hey. It's been a while hasn't it? How are you? Thanks, I'm doing ok, I'll be better when we dock on land. The crew is going to do their own thing but I'm hoping I can stay with you and make up for lost time. Yeah? I like the sound of tha--wait, dancing? You know I can--tch--Shachi needs the phone. We'll talk when I see you. No, you're not convincing me to go dancing.

Bitch he thought.

Law landed on your island and it took all of 2 hours before you dragged him to the comic book store. A simple route to throw him off his game - so when your day trip transitioned to lunch date, to at-home-nap, to dinner with friends, to the rave party down the block, he couldn't help himself but follow you into the booming building. All it took was some peer pressure, shots, a lot of tequila, and some glow in the dark bracelets. He's down so bad for you.

Zoro: Hello? Is this thing even on? Oh you can hear me! Good. We'll be on dry land soon enough, and if you want to hang out or whatever, I'm ok with doing that. TCH No, I don't need you to pick me up, I can find your place on my own. Yes I'm sure! I--hm I have to go, the stupid cook needs the snail. I uhm, look forward to seeing you.

You were pleasantly surprised to find Zoro on your doorstep, on time exactly like he said he would be. You didn't miss the way Franky zoomed away on his motorcycle, all sly-like.

"Told you I knew my way around," the swordsman scratched the back of his head, a pink hue grew on his cheeks as his eyes looked everywhere but you.

"Sure, sure whatever you say Marimo," you grin cheekily, and that made him more flustered.

"TCH, annoying ass. Look we don't have to hangout--"

"Shut up, annoying man!" you bite back, the curve of your lips growing wider as you antagonize your crush.

With a huff, Zoro finally looks you in the eye, the blush on his face deepening, "With an attitude like that, I know exactly what we're going to do first. Hope you still have your sparring gloves."

Sanji: MON CHERIEEEEE!!! I've missed you every day like a plant misses the sun on a rainy day. We'll be making port in a day and I can't wait to show up on your doorstep with my heart - no, not literally, I know that freaked you out the last time. Do you need me to pick up anything? You always say 'no its ok,' but I swear you're never inconveniencing me! I swear on the mosshead's life! I'll see you soon my love.

As promised, Sanji appeared on your front porch carrying a picnic basket full of goods and trinkets he brought from his travels. Delighted, you threw your arms over him and he swung you around once before planting a big kiss on your cheek.

"Oh, I've brought a friend if that's ok," Sanji whispered in your ear.

You looked behind him to find a shy little cow trailing behind the French cook.

"Of course," you squealed happily, "Everyone is always welcome here. Let's warm up some milk for this baby to eat."

[lovelykil]

10 days x 10 compliments—

: ➛killua (older ver)

10 days.

I walk outside my home, handbag resting on my shoulder. I look to the side of me to see a tall guy, he looks scary. But his hair seems to cancel out my fear, it's white as snow, messy like he may just awoke from slumber, layered as well with some hair resting on his shoulders. Mullet? If that's what you call it.

my lips tremble to separate,

"excuse me, your hair looks nice I like the style." His attention was brought to me, we made eye contact.

he doesn't say much, he looks confused, going to touch his hair.

"oh? thanks." He responded! I smile with a nod, turning the other way.

9 days.

I step outside my estate, taking in the fresh air. The day is simply perfect, sun is out, and the breeze cool, not so chilly. I wonder, what adventures shall I seek today? Maybe I should go to the Cafe to—

it's him! Oh?

his familiar unique hair catches my eye, I turn my head to seek him. He has on the cutest sweater I've seen! I'm quite jealous to be honest.

men's clothes seem better nowadays.

he knows how to style an outfit too, what taste he has.

my lips fall,

"you have such great taste in clothing." He looks my way, eyes wide. He touches the fabric.

"you think so?" I see a faint blush spreading across his embarrassed-skinned white face. I smile.

"I do."

day 8.

my shoes get stuck in the floorboard as I attempt to leave the void, I grunt, wanting to scream. The floor finally sets my shoe free but gives me more trouble.

my coffee spills, it leaks into the crevices of the underground so I cannot sip upon its bitter taste. I feel like crying.

As I sulk I cough, then I see him again.

he has a keychain of my favorite anime hung on his bag. My eyes light up, forgetting about the spilled coffee.

my lips rip apart with excitement.

"I love that keychain! I also love that anime. You have great taste" He looks up from his phone, recognizing my face.

"you do?"

"mhm-mh!"

day 7.

I watch the stars fill the night sky with a faint sigh, sitting on the stairway. I feel low. Wish I could twinkle like a star in the galaxy. I think I'd make a pretty star.

or not.

at least I'd be gone.

my chest tightens and I cough.

I thought I was going to be alone but he comes to join me, stepping out of his door. A rail separates our homes, it's see-through I can see him sit as well.

his eyes are low, tired maybe. He has such a pretty shade of blue, they remind me of.. sapphires.

I cover my slight cough and speak.

"you have such pretty eyes in this moonlight, they are like gems." He whips his head, those eyes widen. He's surprised. He's blushing more than before.

"my.. my eyes?" he trembles.

"That's what I said didn't I?" I giggle. He doesn't say anything, he shyly looks away.

I look away to admire the sky, "they seem to sparkle, wish I could." I mutter.

day 6.

sweep sweep I go,

no time for being slow.

though,

my lungs seem to fail.

I'm moving like a snail.

I fear.. it's growing worse.

I sweep as much as I can, even when coughing up a storm.

wish I could quiet down, people are looking at me!

it's just a cough I promise... nothing to fret about.

"looks like the dust is getting to you huh?"

"it quite is, haha." I shift around to see him once again. He's leaning on the rail, watching me. He soon joins me, for unknown reasons I cannot explain.

he grabs my broom from my grasp and sweeps, the dirty particles join the grass and ground. They seem to disappear in my sight.

I watch him, feeling myself smile. I.. wonder why.

"now your stairs are clean, though you should clean them often. This was messy." He hands me the broom. I nod.

"you're too kind." He looks to blush again, his eyes darting away from mine.

"it's.. nothing really."

day 5.

I wait for him outside his door, the aroma of fresh cookies fills the city air. Eight cookies rest on a glass plate I picked out just for him. I begin to smile; the thought of his face brings me joy for some reason.

but my chest grows heavy, my brows scrunch in discomfort. I feel.. sick.

the door clips to reveal the silverette, and I fix my posture quick. He stands infront of me as I raise the plate.

"I made you cookies, they are fresh. I wanted to thank you." I give him a shy smile, even my cheeks heat up. He stands still, unable to say a word.

"idiot! You didn't need to do this.. I was just being nice!" His cheeks flush. I set the plate down, tilting my head to the side.

"and your kindness I dearly appreciate, do you not want my gift..?" I stare up, almost frowning. He opens his mouth to respond but he fails to do so.

he sighs.

"no I'll.. take it. Thank you." He retrieves my plate and I smile wide. "No thank you." He stares at the plate then at me, a smile tugs his face, and I can't help but admire.

"you have such a pretty smile.." He freezes, his milk-white cheeks take a shade of hot pink. "h-huh?! I.. uhm I have to go.."

"o-oh wait!" The door slams before I can reach out. My hands curl and I sigh momentarily. I step off his staircase carefully but faulter at the last step.

my lungs feel like fire, I can feel something awful running up my esophagus. I hold my hands out and cough.

I cough till I get this sensation out of my body.

once I stop, my weary eyes observe my palms, there's blood, alot.

day 4.

It's raining out, I hide under my umbrella. The sounds of droplets hitting it is loud, I love the rain but I feel weak today.

I step down my staircase, carefully once again. But these three steps are making my lungs weaken, and I have no idea why. I huff, trying to catch my breath.

I need to fetch tea. Maybe it will help.

I hold the rail, breathing heavy.

just start walking already!

I can't.

"gah?! It's raining it was just sunny a few minutes ago.." a voice makes my head motion up. It's him. He's wearing a light jacket doesn't seem enough for this whether though. He looks annoyed.

I slowly walk over with a tired smile.

"do you need an umbrella?"

"won't you get wet?"

"we can walk together if you don't have an umbrella." He stares at me, looking like he is going to start freaking out. His face looks so red. I wonder what he is thinking.

"are.. you sure?" He steps off. I nod.

"I could use your help anyway, if that's okay." I give him the umbrella once he reaches me. He looks at the object then at me.

"what might that be?" He grabs the umbrella. I go silent, only for a second. My hands latch on his free arm with a heavy breath.

"warmth." I shiver. He tenses up, that I can feel. It almost makes me giggle.

"o-okay."

"you're very warm, like a teddy bear." I walk. He walks as well, remaining quiet. I can hear him scoff quietly to himself and look away.

we walk in the rain together, this felt.. natural in a way.

day 3.

He's in my house. We are watching a movie. We are.. close. I feel nervous. My cheeks heat up looking at him. I invited him over for dinner, just thanking him once again. He seemed hesitant to join me, I could tell he was growing nervous but he applied.

and now we're here.

my body moves on its own, shuffling closer.

why am I moving?

he doesn't stop me when I lean my head on his shoulder, it felt like he was.. but he stopped.

maybe.. he was enjoying this as much as I was?

"you didn't move?" I whisper.

"did you want me to?" he asks.

I lean away to look at him, his eyes meet with mine soon after. I shake my head, growing lost in his sapphire eyes.

"no.." there was a pause. The pause felt like years passing us by but then I leaned in. Closer. Making the space between us uncomfortably close. He didn't stop me again, he inched towards me as well.

his eyes lower to my lips then at my eyes, we have the same idea. I feel his breath on my own, only inches away from connecting. I turn my head to properly kiss him.

"your lips.. they look so.. soft." I mutter.

but I feel a sharp pain in my chest, and I groan in discomfort. My brows scrunch more as I start to cough, away from him. His expression changed three times, he was flushed, puzzled then concerned. Maybe it was all three together as he went to my aid.

"are you okay?!" Why is he freaking out like that? The cough isn't so..

there's blood on my hands again, I feel.. dizzy.

"im.. fine really. I'm just tired! I'm so sorry!" I sit up and apologize. I wipe the blood off my hands in a swift move, maybe he didn't see the blood more so concerned about the coughing.

"are you sure?" He sits up. I nod, giving him a reassuring smile. "I am."

day 2.

I don't awake from my bed, I lay in anguish. The day calls me but I simply don't think I can get up for another day. My body aches, I cannot.. breathe.

it feels as if nails were piercing through my lungs, and hell itself set them on fire. I don't.. understand why I feel the way I do. I've had this sickens for 10 years.

but I always over came it, will I this time?

of course you will! Stop thinking of such thoughts. You need to see him tomorrow! And you will!

him. yes. him.

he's so.. effortlessly pretty.

what was his name again?

...

she wasn't at her door today. Maybe she slept in. The silverette thought, looking over at his neighbor. He sat down near the rail, looking over. His heart sang for her, a feeling he wasn't quite familiar with.. but he enjoyed it.

a crush? he blushes at the thought.

the albino sits up to walk inside with a disappointed sigh.

day 1.

The birds chirp, singing their tune for the morning. Leaves brush against the concrete as the wind picks them up to scatter them elsewhere. It was a beautiful day. It wasn't to cold nor to hot.

sapphire eyes made sure to fix himself for her, he didn't know why but he felt the need to look good. Maybe they could start hanging out and walk somewhere. He didn't care he just wanted to be with her.

he opens the door, sits on the staircase, and waits.

shes usually out of that door by 10, he made sure to take note of. Again, wasn't sure why he did.

he waits more.

5 minutes turned to 15.. 15 turned to 20 then 30 then an hour.. and..

night fall.

he had fallen asleep but was awoken by a cat. "huh?" he looks down to spot a black cat with green eyes. The animal seems to wrap its tail around his leg, acting rather unusually. It pulls and tugs for him to get up. He doesn't comply at first, trying to shake away the thing but when it scratched him he finally listened.

"fine I'll listen!" He stood up, wiping his clothes. The cat walked its self into her apartment, the door being slightly open. He raises his eyebrow, what possibly could this cat want that's inside of her house?

bigger question, why was her door opened?

he steps inside, looking around as he follows the cat. His snoopy eyes search her apartment, it is very tidy and it smells like cinnamon apples. His eyes met the strolling cat, it led him to a room but now its pace accelerated.

he's stunned, picking up the pace as well.

why am I even following a cat in the first place? he wonders, all this didn't make sense!

she didn't come out yesterday, her door was opened, and there was a cat leading him somewhere.

what did all this mea—

in just matters of seconds he enters a room, shes there.

but she's not well—no no. She looks.. drained.

his steps are quick but also soft as he approaches her bed. He's conflicted seeing her in such a state.

what happened?

"is.. is that you?"

"huh?" She opens her eyes, they land on him. He simply nods.

"yeah.. it's me. Are you okay?" He looks at her. She covers a light scratchy cough and laughs briefly. "Me okay? I'm fine."

for some reason, he doesn't believe her.

she sets her hand on her sheets, she sighs to herself looking up. He remains watching, unable to move himself.

"you know, I always wanted to shine."

"shine?"

"yeah, like.. like a star." She smiles, it's weak but sincere, to the best of her ability. He finds himself reaching out for a chair he found near her bed and drags it where she laid.

his heart was pounding, is he scared? nervous?

"a star huh?" He looks up to her window. Her head nods but then covers up a rough cough with her fist. His attention was quickly brought to her, concerned for her well being.

"that cough sounds worse than a few days ago.. do you need medication? Or maybe I can take you to the hosp—"

"no no I'm fine! Really.. it's just a cough." She insists, her hand touching his as she sits up to persuade him.

his blue eyes fell on their touching hands.

he looks at her, his eyes sparkle. she smiles.

"you'd make a beautiful star, you know?" her hand lands on his face. Her soft smile burns inside his memory, his face can't help but heat up. He can feel himself melting in her touch.. he feels so..

safe.

unusual feeling, who was this girl anyway? He's only known her for a little over a week, but he feels so collected with her. He wonders why.

"I forgot to ask.. but your name?" He mutters. Her hand escapes his touch, she giggles lightly.

"It's y/n. what might yours be, neighbor?"

"killua." her eyes sparkle with fascination. He notices.

she lays back into her pillows, coughing once more then laying her hand down.

"killua huh? what a pretty name." She looks up. Killua rises from the chair, he's holding onto her sickly hand, he feels something horrible about to happen.

"killua.. do you think I'll be able to sparkle one day?" She spoke, barely in a whisper. She's growing weak. His grip around her hand tightens, he feels an aching pain in his chest.

"you already are, y/n."

"you think so?" She looks over at him. He nods, smiling at her. His brows seem to knit though.

she rests her head and sighs, she holds his hand and breaths one last time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"okay."

He watches her, and for a brief moment, he feels his heart shatter. He knew what was happening, why did this hurt so much then?

her hand soon felt cold. Her grip was no longer strong.

shes..

killua sits on the chair in silence. The cat from before jumps on her bed to cuddle up next to her. The scene was entirely dreadful, even though no tears fell from his face to show his sorrow he felt numb inside.

his neighbor— no.. a girl.. he felt connection with died in front of him. He takes a moment to collect himself before he picks up his phone to dial 911.

the phone picks up quickly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

he trembles, his breath hitching.

"someone I know has died."

...

killua sits on his stairway the next day, though the night has arrived. He hadn't done much today besides wash her plate and set it on the dish rack. He's quieter more than usual. Maybe he should invite his close friend over, Gon. Maybe it will get his mind off..

he looks up suddenly, an unknown force motioning him to do so. The sky was lacking stars tonight, it was all dark blue barely any of them out tonight.

he's puzzled by this but then he sees it.

his eyes largen.

there in the middle of the sky, sparkled a beautiful white star. It made all the tiny stars around it jealous by it's beauty. When he looked up it looked to sparkle more in his gaze.

his sapphire eyes were drawn in by this bright star, the more he gazed upon it the more it seemed to twinkle. A smile fell onto his lips when he realized, the silverette whispered,

"hey y/n."

[theodorequartz]

Undertale x Nezuko Male Reader

Part 4: Staying, Leaving

The male smiled as he was filled with love.

Following Toriel inside her little home in the ruins the male was in awe. It's so cute inside! It's very homey and warm! Everything is a shade of light brown.

The male looked around in wonder and awe, but then he smelled something. Toriel smiled as she watched him sniffing the air curiously.

" Do you smell that? Surprise! It's a butterscotch-cinnamon pie. I thought we might celebrate your arrival. I want you to have a nice time living here. So I will hold off on snail pie for tonight." Toriel said delightly.

" Here I have another surprise for you." She said as she led him to a yellow hallway.

She took him by the hand and led him to a door. " This is it. A room of your own. I hope you like it!"

The male hummed and purred delightly. Toriel pet his head.

She then took off, smelling something burning.

The male blinked owlishly at the direction Toriel ran and looked back at the door. He opened it and saw a cute little redish room. A bed, cabinet, lamps in both sides of the rooms, teddy bears and a drawing of a flower sticked on the wall.

The male looked around. He was more interested in the empty dusty photo frame. It feels like a picture should be in there.

The male walked by the bed and suddenly felt tired. Oh. He forgot how tired he really was after all those monsters trying to fight him. But at least they became his friends now!

The male layed on the bed and covered himself in the sheets and slept.

He woke up at the sound of the door opening and footsteps stopping on the middle of the room before laying down something. It walked away and closed the door.

The male opened his eyes and looked at the slice of pie sitting in the carpet in the middle of the room.

* You found a slice of butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

* The smell of the butterscotch-cinnamon pie fills you with love.

He took the pie and smiled. He then started to walk towards his door, closing it behind him and then walked down the hall.

Tho he did check the other rooms out of curiosity, he didn't get to the last room. It said it's under renovation.

He saw Toriel in the living room, reading with little reading glasses on. She told him stories about snails and he listened.

This....it reminded him of something...

.

.

.

.

.

.

" There is a flower that only blooms once a year..."

.

.

" It's called..the 3Lüę 2₱/Dė4 7!7! "

.

.

.

.

.

.

The male blinked and layed his head on Toriel's lap, sitting on the floor. Toriel's eyes widened and she smiled softly. She pet his head and continued reading.

It was like this for the rest of the day.

________

Toriel suggested that they should go out in the ruins to catch snails. It was a fun activity. They both have fun.

.

.

.

.

.

.

" Look brother! I caught a big one!"

.

.

.

.

.

.

-My child?"

The male blinked in surprise. He didn't know he spaced out.

" Oh right! I never got your name!" Toriel exclaimed.

" What's your name dear?"

The male blinked...his name. He tilted his head. It's been so long since someone asked for his name. The last time someone called him by hi name was when-

" Do you not have a na-Oh!"

The male scratched on the ground.

' M/N'

Toriel blinks. " M/n?"

The male, m/n, perks up. "Ah!"

Toriel smiled, eyes softening. " I see.. Welcome m/n."

M/n giggled, eyes shining and smile widening.

" Do you have a last name, dear?"

...

.

.

.

.

.

.

" It's nice to meet you, M/n •×∆^° ! "

.

.

.

.

.

M/n blinked and shaked his head. "Nmm"

"No? Well that's alright, dear."

M/n smiled.

___________

Later they went inside to rest. But M/n's head rings with forgotten memories. It's stuck at the back of his mind, hidden deep into his soul. It's almost as if..as if...he doesn't want to remember...

But..he has to...

There's something he must do. Something that he doesn't remember. But his soul does. And it's filled with love.

He needs to Know.

He needs to leave.

He looked at Toriel.

" Go..."

" Hmm? What's that, my child?"

" ..le..ave.."

"..."

" To..ri..-

" No." Toriel turned back against him and started to walk down the stairs. He followed. She kept saying reasons. He still followed. She told him she's going to destroy the way out. He still followed.

..." You want to leave so badly?..."

...

" You're just like the others. Prove yourself... Prove to me you are strong enough to survive."

...

.

.

Survive...

Hah...of course...

That's what's his been doing this whole time...

And strong...

You..can't survive if you're not strong...

...

You cant protect the people you love...

If you're not strong.

.

.

.

But...

He doesn't want to fight...

...

Toriel kept attacking. He kept dodging.

It went on like this. He got hits, lots of them. But he didn't care about it right now.

Mercy.

" What are you doing?"

Mercy.

" What are you proving this way."

Mercy.

" Stop it."

He won't fight.

" Stop looking at me that way."

Mercy

" Go away!"

He won't fight Toriel.

"..."

Mercy.

" I know you want to go home, but..."

Because...

" But please...go upstairs now."

Mercy.

" I promise I will take good care of you here."

He..

" I know we do not have much,but..."

He...

" I promise we could have a good life here"

Loves her.

" ...ha ha.."

...

" Pathetic, is it not? I cannot save even a single child."

...

" No. I understand. You would just be unhappy trapped down here. The ruins are very small once you get used to them. It would not be right for you to stay in a place like this."

...

" My expectations... My loneliness... My fear..."

...

" For you, my child.... I will put it all aside. "

Toriel hugs him as she told him not to look back after he leaves.

She started heading back but stopped.

" Tori! " A very soft... Gentle... soothing voice. It carried an unknown emotion.

Toriel looked back. Her eyes widened.

M/n was smiling at her. His eyes... It was so...sad...so understanding... As if he new what it's felt like...as if he lost everything...as if he carried through every painful hardships. He looked so tired. But he still smiled. As if everything is going to be okay.

Toriel gasped. He gave her a closed eyed smile and waved.

" Mama!"

Tears formed in her eyes. He turned away from her to the door and walked through the door.

Toriel fell to her knees. She was crying. She choked as she tried desperately to cover her sobs.The sadness, the pain, the despair, the anger, the loneliness. She felt it, in his eyes... He told her..

He lost everything...but he will still continue and carry the memories.

The love.

Author: What do you think of the story so far?

[mostly-bug-blog]

October 14th Bug Report! I was around a lot of plants today which means a lot of bugs too. I forgot my phone so I couldn't photograph most of them, but then I got to borrow my dad's for a bit.

The creatures I couldn't photograph were mainly woodlice, many of which were climbing all over my boots. One of them seemed rather at home there and I had to take my boot off and gently shake him off. I also saw a common froghopper and several very bright yellow, almost neon, harlequin ladybirds.

The first creature I got a photo of is this really pretty garden spider. She was such a nice shade of orange and I got distracted watching her.

I also helped out a snail that was at risk of being stepped on and relocated it to another bush. I think it has a very friendly face.

Also, some bonus mushrooms that I can't identify, there's just so many that look like that.

I think they look quite delicious, unfortunately.