#oh it does have fruit chunks!

[gontroublevt]

Yall ever just get the urge to eat apricot preserves by the tiny spoonful?

[unluckiestmember]

ARCANE WOMEN (or just vi!!) BEING FED STRAWBERRIES BY HAND BY THE READER?

Coming right up!

Arcane Women X Reader: Eating Strawberries

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Sevika and Mel Medarda.

Warning: Suggestive Themes, but overall SFW.

A/N: Who sent me this request? I'm gonna kiss you, because this is too adorable. Who sent it?!

Powder/Jinx

“Mmm, that’s delicious, toots! Give me some more- Ooo, wait, wait, wait! Throw it! I’m sure I can catch it in my mouth- Watch!”

Jinx hasn’t really ever eaten fruit due to the environment of Zaun and because she doesn’t go out of her way to experience delicacies like strawberries. But when you had her try some, especially by you feeding her some, she got giddy at the taste and the sweet gesture. She loves you feeding her anything, so strawberries are just a welcomed addition to the moment you two share of you babying her.

She loves you feeding her, but also loves making a game out of it, wanting you to throw the fruit into her mouth to catch or even pulling you down to her height to kiss you so you can taste the fruit on her lips. Moments like these are what Jinx cherishes with her favorite person in the world. Just be careful because sometimes it can get messy.

Violet “Vi”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a lovely snack like yourself to feed me a snack, but please don’t stop. Mmm.”

Violet only had prison food for a good chunk of her life, so she’s open to eating anything and everything. You noticed she was big on sweets so one day after work, you fed her some strawberries and she instantly fell in love with them. Whenever she’s tired from a long day, she doesn’t expect much from you, so when you surprise her with a feeding sesh, she gets the biggest smile on her face and is so quick to lay her head on your lap or sit you on her lap and feed her.

Sometimes she’ll leave the strawberry on her teeth and pull you in to eat it yourself or if she’s feeling playful, she’ll toss some your way, leading to a night full of giggles. Because of you, she’s lived for being fed by you, even requesting you feed her some desserts or feeding you herself. At this point, you guys are pretty sure it’s your love language.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“Is it me or do these strawberries taste sweeter than usual? Do you want one?... They’re delicious, right? Here, have another.”

Caitlyn is used to the delicacies that fruit has to offer. She wouldn’t say strawberries are her favorite fruit or even type of berry, but she does like them from time to time. Especially if you feed them to her to start her morning or end her day. Externally, she’ll hum at the sweetness of the strawberry and at you, her beloved. But internally, she is melting like an ice cream.

It really relaxes her when you feed her strawberries or any fruit, and she isn’t afraid to feed you as well, either taking turns eating strawberries or slipping some in your mouth and humming at your delight. Eating strawberries makes her happy, especially when you are happy as well because your happiness means so much to her. Oh, and don’t expect to feed her without her ending your bonding moment with a sweet induced kiss to your cheek or your lips.

Sevika

“Now this is the life. You’re gonna make me become addicted to these things, you know that? Especially if I get to have a view like this to match.”

Sevika has had her fair share of strawberries before from some being smuggled into Zaun or someone in the marketplace selling some. And she enjoys them, even if they’re not his favorite fruit or berry. That being said, she lives for you, feeding her like a baby while she lays beside you or sits next to you while taking in the lovely scenery of her significant other keeping her company.

Sometimes she can’t help herself getting a bit experimental with strawberries and their usage, but regardless of the nights you share turning sweet in more ways than one, Sevika enjoys the feeding session as much as she enjoys a good battle, a job well done or even a happy ending. She’s also not afraid to feed you too, just expect her to tease you the entire time before she kisses you. She can’t help it, but you’re kinda cute when you pout.

Mel Medarda

“You know what will really set this off? Some cheese. Maybe some grapes too- Can we please get a platter over here with all the fixings? Thank you.”

Mel loves fruit platters and assortment trays, so strawberries are always a yes for her. She is fine with feeding you strawberries or you feeding her strawberries while you both relax together from a day of hard work in the council or away from one another. Don’t expect her to stop at strawberries though. No, this is Mel Medarda we’re talking about!

Before you know it, she’s feeding you every fruit under the sun, tasting some with you even and indulging whenever you feed her. Even if it gets a bit out of hand sometimes with the both of you taking a tour of fruit, it always ends with the both of you enjoying each other’s company, getting physically affectionate with kisses on the cheek or nuzzles against one another. It’s always nice eating with her, excess and all.

If you have requests for Arcane, X-Men '97 or Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay safe, stay hydrated and have a good day!

[hotvintagepoll]

Hello! Do you have a favorite winter recipe? I'm looking to expand my repertoire, because I've only lived in a climate that snows for a couple years, and I don't have enough cozy, bone warming foods!

PS - I keep having to feed my cat pumpkin puree because he has some tummy troubles but he will only eat it if I gently hand feed him with a spoon. Just thought you might enjoy that.

YES HERE IS JOYOUS SOUP

(i have never actually called it joyous soup but it's what i feel everytime i make it and i feel like everyone should make it)

This soup does not have a proper recipe because uhh, my mom is bad with recipes but ALSO this soup truly adapts to whatever you have in your fridge, as long as you have 1) some kind of oil or butter to sautee things with and 2) potatoes. this is the sam gamgee make-it-on-the-side-of-a-mountain-winter soup.

Step 1. Take your potatoes—6 is the ideal but 4 works—and chop them up rough. "What kind of potatoes?" Whatever they have on the side of the mountain, Sam. You now have a bunch of 1" potato chunks or discs (I like discs). I assumed you washed them first but if you forgot you can wash them now.

Step 2. Get your oil or butter sizzling. I use about two tablespoons of butter to start and add more as I go if the potatoes don't look fully covered. I am probably cooking the butter on medium.

Step 3. You're putting the potatoes in the butter. You're pretending to fry them. Watch them get all buttery and golden and a little brown and crispy. You're thinking, man, I could eat these as they are right now. You could do that. Don't. Add garlic and onions if you have them. Add lots.

Step 4. Just as you're like oh MAN these potatoes and garlic and onions look really good fried just like this, you're going to swamp them in water. You're going to stare at what you've done and thought you made a mistake. You have not. The water should just be covering the potatoes and now you've turned the water up to high, staring at your weird sad soup pot, that smells deliciously of butter garlic onions and potatoes.

Step 5. In another saucepan, you are melting more butter (or oil, or what have you) and figuring out what else you have in your cupboard. Carrots? Those can go in. Parsnips could too. Spinach works nicely. Any onions or garlic you forgot can be added again now. Mushrooms are fucking fabulous. Leeks? Sublime. The only veg you should be avoiding are the ones that are secretly fruits (no watery tomatoes or squishy cucumbers) or the ones that you think are insipid (celery).

Step 6. You're chopping all of that up as much as you like and browning it up in the butter. You're also adding whatever spices strike your fancy. I love salt, so that's always going in, but I usually add black pepper and cayenne, and then I get fruity with it and start adding in paprikas and cumins and turmerics or corianders and thymes and basils and parsleys. It all depends on what smells right to you combined with the steams you're making, and how much spice you want kicking you later.

Step 7. How are your boiled potatoes looking? Are they soft yet? Good. Can you stick a fork in them yet, and has the water boiled down to almost nothing? Excellent. How are all your buttery brown vegetables looking? If you want to give up the whole experiment and eat them right out of the pan, it's time to make another mistake and add all your gorgeous browned vegetables to your disastrous wet potato pot.

Step 8. You now have a lot of delicious stuff looking wet and sad in your potato pot. Pour in a bit more water (or veg broth, or stock if you have it) and stir that all up. Let it stew together a bit and combine flavors. Turn it back down to medium so you don’t scorch any of your nice wet veg things. If you're fancy like my mom, you get out an immersion blender here. If you're broke and possess your grandmother's food processor, like me, you're pouring that all into the food processor with the biggest blade you have and turning it into a smoothie. If your concoction seems oddly chunky you need to add more water.

Step 9. Wet sad potato smoothie is not much to look at but now you're adding CREAM. and CHEESE. and MORE SPICES TO YOUR TASTE. If you don't have cream MILK WORKS FINE. If you don't have cheese THAT IS OKAY. If you like your soup with chunks LEAVE OUT SOME OF YOUR VEG NEXT TIME and ADD IT IN HERE. At this point, you have a gorgeous creamy soup that's soft and luscious (that's the potatoes), includes all your favorite veg (that's everything you got out of the fridge), and can go in any number of taste directions depending on what spices you put in (I've made this with Indian spices, English herb garden spices, Mexican spices, Hungarian spices—every time it's delicious and works a different way).

Step 10. I hope you have a lot of bread because you're going to be dipping it in your soup saying :) man this is a nice soup :) and knowing you can make it whenever you have weird leftovers, as long as you have potatoes and butter. and what else does a person need in life than potatoes and butter?

enjoy your joyous soup <3 i may have forgotten several steps but as long as you follow -brown some veg -add water -add spice -blend the shit out of it, you can never really go wrong <3

[jyoongim]

Hey there! My first time asking/making a request lol, but I had two separate ideas and you can just pick one or something.

First was an alastor w/ fem reader, it's mating season for red and this ones diff bc he's had his eyes on reader or smthn for a min and decides this season he's going to do his best to show off to her, lmao like "look look, I can provide and protect!" a bit intense bc it's mating season, but reader is CLUELESS until at some point it finally clicks and she's all "huh.. ohh SHIT"

Second idea was one that I thought would be funny, like so.. lucifer finds out Al likes reader and even tho he doesn't really like Al he's like " don't worry, I can definitely help with this" but he's lowkey a terrible wingman even tho miraculously it somehow helps in the end???

Again you can choose from either and end it however you want, fluff/nsfw/sfw. Or if none of this is your cup of tea then just ignore me!!

Not me on a fluff binge hehehhehe

hope you guys like it! I’ve been a bit slow to write and upload but I’ve enjoyed reading every request! I’m still taking a slight break but I try to give y’all SOMETHING. Hope y’all don’t mind!!

Lots of love-jyoongim

——————————————————————————————-

Mating season.

Usually an awful time of year that made Alastor more on edge than usual.

But something was different this year…

This mating season, the deer demon wanted a partner….

Alastor had his sights on a pretty doe and he was going to ensure that she was going to be his for the season…

—————————————————————————

You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you greeted everyone as you took a seat for breakfast.

Pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. Eggs. Fruits.

Your stomach rumbled at the delicious smells.

”Fine hellish day isn’t my dear?” Alastor chirped as he piled food fruits and meats on your plate. You blinked at the amount of food on your plate.

”Al my stomach is only so big” you giggled causing the demon to hum as he took a seat beside you.

”A full belly makes a happy doe” he smiled as you happily ate the food.

Alastor watched as you ate, a soft purr rumbling in his chest.

”Why don’t we go for an outing dear?” Alastor suggested as you let out a burp.

You agreed.

It was rather chilly for Hell.

You and Alastor waltz around the city. You happily looked at the displays in many windows. 

You didn’t know Alastor’s agenda but you didn’t mind accompanying him.

You must have lagged behind him a tad as a demon slithered up beside you as you looked over some jewelry.

”what’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” A deep voice asked causing you jumped, surprised.

”O-Oh hi um I’m just looking that’s all” you gave a nervous smile. Your skiddish nature took over as you took a step back. The demon advanced on you. He was big, could easily overtake you if need be.

”Why don’t I show you around? I don’t see a ring. I can show you a good time” sharp teeth smiled at you menacingly.

Your ears flattened, you might be  small but you could defend yourself. You bared your teeth at the demon making him chuckle

”Now now little lady lets not get ugly” 

You hadn’t realized he had backed you into a corner.

The demon pounced, making you screech as he pinned you to the wall.

Your ears perked as heavy static buzzed through the air. The demon didn’t seem to notice 

 “You’ll make a fine piece of ass”

Black smoke poured through the alleyway and static popped.

”That’s no way to talk to a lady”

Black tentacles dragged the demon and blood-curdling screams escaped the demon, but were quickly silenced as Alastor ripped him apart.

”mine mine mine” Alastor growled as he chomped on the demon.

You gagged as chunks of flesh flew around.

Satisfied that the distasteful demon was in his belly, Alastor looked towards you.

A large sharp claw traced your face, he was growling but his eyes were soft. He morphed to be a bit smaller and helped you up, his red eyes roaming over you.

”I’m okay Al” you reassured giving him a smile. He seemed to calm down and looped your arm with his.

”dishonorable filfth” he hissed as he made his way back to the hotel. You pouted you really wanted to buy something but you’ve had enough excitement for one day.

You looked at Alastor and tilted your head “Al your antlers”

The usual small antlers were now big and standing tall on top his head.

”Nice rack” you giggled making the red demon smirk, his chest puffing proudly.

”than-thank you for all that. I really appreciate Al” you said sheepishly.

The tall demon hummed 

“Don’t mention it my dear. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”

——————————————————————————

Alastor had been lingering around you since the little accident. He had growled at anyone who got too close to you.

He was very possessive and protective of you, which you thought was sweet that the demon was worried about you.

You groaned as the sun peaked through your window. You sat up and you blinked in confusion.

Flowers, breakfast, and a tiny box.

Rest up little Doe ~Alastor

Your tail wagged in happiness. You don’t know why Alastor had been so attentive but you were eating it up.

You placed the flowers in a vase and began to eat breakfast.

Your face wrinkled as you pulled a piece of meat from your teeth.

what the fuck?

It was soft and fleshy. You shuddered but ate the rest of your breakfast. You opened the tiny box and keened when you saw the bracelet you had been looking at earlier in the week.

There were cute little radio themed charms.

You quickly cleaned up and went downstairs.

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting in the lobby chatting.

You smiled and waved, your bracelet caught Vaggie’s attention.

”Hey where you get that?” The question also caught Charlie’s attention, she immediately began gushing

”Oh my! Did Alastor get that for you? Omg so cute!”

Vaggie deadpanned “Alastor have been very cozy towards you what’s that about?”

You shrugged “I don’t know but it can’t be anything bad right?”

————————————————————————————-

“I see you got my gift” Alastor said, coming behind you as you red on the couch. You smiled “Its really nice Al but why the sudden gift giving?”

Alastor smiled “well my dear its mating season”

You blinked. Mating season? What did that have to do-

OH SHIT!

Your eyes widened “Y-You’ve been…”

His lips pulled into a genuine smile “Courting you? Why of course my dear!”

His hand circled the wrist with the bracelet. He brought it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.

Your body shuddered in delight and your ears flicked as he nipped at your fingers.

Your nose wrinkled at the smell of his pheromones, your tail wagging.

You let out a purr as you rubbed yourself against him and took off running, throwing a wink at him as he followed suit, giggling as he made a grab at your hips as you evaded him.

”Come and solidify your place Mr. Radio Demon” you teased slipping into his room.

A soft growl escaped Alastor as he followed you and had his shadow guard the door.

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

hi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

i want to say that i really like your work and would like to try to make a request with douma, where s/o is very random

for example, they just hang out and then s/o gives out a random strange fact like: "did you know that dolphins can fall in love very much and build relationships the same way as people?" or she can run up, pet him and run away, etc

feel free to ignore it! hope you having a wonderful day, love you

and forgive me for my english, it's quite crooked

Hello \(≧▽≦.)/ Thank you so much for saying that anon, that truly makes me happy to hear, also don't worry, your request has been heard loud and clear! And I love it!

I hope I've done your request justice (^ω^.) and please know that your always welcome back to browse and request something from me again.

Your English is great by the way,so don't worry!

Douma/Doma with an S/O who does random things - [Headcannons]:

There where many things that Douma/Doma found boring, in life and with entertainment, but you weren't boring - you were anything but boring

Each day you did (or said) something that tickled his funny bone

Each day you had a new fact, hobby, skill/talent and object that you had to share with him that genuinely had his brain working overtime at how you knew or did that

Douma/Doma finally found something to look forward too each day and it was you and your randomness

Your randomness was cute - adorable even - and it definitely saved you from scenario's that would have ended up with your death (and a rather pissed off and sad spouse) or at least hurt

Douma/Doma enjoys your random fact of the day - that you randomly drop on him at a random point in the day

When you first started your random fact dropping you'd started with facts about the human body during a tea ceremony

"Did you know that the average tongue is about three inches long" You said simply, taking a sip of your tea before continuing "and that the human body can shed about 40 pounds of skin?" - its safe to say that Douma/Doma was so dumbfounded by those facts he over-poured his tea with a rather star-struck expression

Although he does quite like the cute random facts that you tell him too - "Did you know that trees can make friends and talk to each other? Isn't that sweet"

You also had the habit of coming up to him randomly - at different points in the day - and inspecting his hands and tapping three times on his wrist (directly on where his pulse point would be) before leaving without a word

And bopping his nose

And sometimes knocking gently on his forehead

Also you like tracing shapes through his clothes on his back, arms and legs - making him guess the shapes and words you form with your nails

You also liked stealing his fans to use them for something random and/or weird - he once found you using them to cut fruit...

Once you baked a 10 tier cake and brought it in mid sermon with his followers with plates and water

Food was another thing that you made randomly, you baked and cooked new and weird things and brought in for him to try - as well as his followers....

When he sleeps in, it's always a 60/40 that you'll have done something to his hair - You like to fiddle with and decorate his hair and you have once perfectly styled his hair into a plaited mohawk

You've painted his nails - "Oh paint them pink next time love" He'd whined once into your neck "I want them to match the colour of your love~" + "Oh! Like the colour of my organs too?" followed by a blank stare from Douma/Doma

As you both where about to sleep you turned to him, perfect smile on your face and sleep hazing your eyes and said, "I wanna eat you! Just take a chunk cause your too perfect and beautiful for this world" before promptly falling asleep

He has found you trying to do cartwheels down the hall

You've always got something up your sleeve and it honestly brings Douma/Doma so much joy to live through each day, finding out what you had in store

.....you've made a finger puppet version of him before as well as a doll and you have used both as advisors - "And what do you think Wackus Bonkus?" "Kill him" "Oh! You Naughty Wackus Bonkus!"

[chaiwithmybeloved]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader.

Description: Hitting (on) a stranger with a shopping cart was not on your grocery list.

Word count: 1k

The lights in this grocery store are too warm for your liking.

Too warm, too dim. You suppose it goes well with the aesthetic of the brand but it's almost fucking impossible to check the fine print on the imported pistachio spread that you've been holding for the last 15 minutes.

You cannot risk buying something so expensive without knowing when it expires. You grimace at the amount of produce in your cart that's going to cost a chunk of your paycheck and put the jar back on the shelf saying a silent goodbye.

Steering the trolley to the front of the store, the angel on your shoulder scolds you for thinking it was good idea to visit a gourmet grocery store.

In your defense, this place wasn't your first choice either. The regular grocery store was 5 miles closer to your place and handed out amazing discounts too, but—

"You're not going to believe who I saw at S-Mart."

"Was it..." Adjusting the phone between your shoulder and ear, your frowned as the layer of purple nail polish smeared on the skin of your toe. "...your biochem crush?"

Your friend sighs, "I wish. It was your ex-situationship, though. Anyways, I hope you've blocked him..."

Her voice fades and the carpet is stained purple.

No. You couldn't risk running into him, even if that's all you've wanted. So, you drive— 20 minutes out of your way— to be as far as possible from the bittersweet memories of the ice cream isle.

You almost hit someone with your cart. Panic sets inside you. What if it's some rich snob who would set their lawyers on you like a pack of dogs? It wasn't your fault the wheels were wobbly!

"I'm so sorry," you bend quickly, to pick up the fruit that had slipped from their hand. As you stand straight, a pair of formal shoes, khaki pants, a half tucked blue shirt and a loose tie meets your eyes.

"It's alright," the smooth voice has you looking up faster than your brain can process. "No harm done." Thin lips, gentle crook of his nose where a pair of spectacles rest, hiding his beautiful brown, maybe a little tired, eyes.

The devil on your shoulder calls you an embarrassment. You hold out your hand and he takes the apple, adding it to his cart. "Thank you."

A number of wooden carts are arranged before you, each containing different colours and varieties of apples; Fuji, Gala, Honey crisp, Kashmir—

Reaching out for the Granny Smith, you're impressed with how big they are. Instinctively, you smell them: sweet yet tart.

You add one to your shopping cart, eager to go home and taste it. The last batch your vendor had brought were pathetic—

"Excuse me, would you mind picking them out for me. I can't tell the good one's apart." The man asks, showing you his selection. Small and weirdly round with red streaks.

"Calville Blanc?"

He nods, "I've read that they have a high amount of Vitamin C."

You try not to fall on your knees. Beautiful and intelligent? Maybe gourmet grocery stores weren't so bad after all.

"They do," you select a few from the paper bag and replace them with better quality ones. "But if you're looking for Vitamin C, citrus fruits are the best."

He doesn't reply. Not for a whole minute. "My son—"

Oh. OH.

The angel slaps her forehead. You wanted to suck off a married man!

He doesn't have a ring. The devil makes a fair point.

"—doesn't like oranges. Or anything orange flavored. I've been trying to get his Vitamin C levels up."

"Does he like lemonade?" You try to maintain a normal conversation. He looks pretty young to have a child.

"Yeah," The stranger nods. "Will that help?"

You nod and hands rest on the handle of your shopping cart, feeling dirty for lusting after a married man. "It would be more pocket friendly than spending...5,499 ¥— shit, that's pricey."

Great, now he thinks you're broke. Clumsy and broke.

The man laughs and you get a warm feeling in your stomach. "That was my first thought too."

Two of you make it to the check out counter, standing behind an older, definitely richer, woman. Her cart is full, to the brim and the cashier looks like they're in pain.

"How old is he?" You ask. The blond falls for the marketing gimmicks, taking a cartoon keychain off the rack.

"Turns six, soon."

"If he's fond of apples, you could buy regular ones and squeeze some lemon juice on them."

The man nods, "Thank you. He's a picky eater but—"

"Every child is."

"Exactly."

You move ahead in the line and the cashier is relieved to see your minimalist cart.

"You should try Golden Plate on 5th street." A shameless self promotion. "They have customisable kids menu."

"That would make things a lot easier. Apparently, he hates everything nutritious," He sighs. A notification on his phone goes off and you get to see a glimpse of a pink haired child, smiling brightly with a floating tube around under his little chubby arms.

"You seem to know a lot about kids," The man clears his throat, unsure how to phrase his words.

"I know a lot about food," you correct him, looking back. "Sometimes I make meals for my colleague's daughter, so I know how to hide the greens."

The word tumbles right out of his mouth. "How—"

The cashier clicks some buttons. "Your total is..."

It physically hurts you to pull out your wallet and hand over the card. A quick swipe and you're being handed your paper bags.

The cool AC air greets you at the exit doors. Should you wait for him? The stranger has an unfairly gorgeous side profile as he unloads the cart items. You almost smile at the heart eyes the cashier gives him.

He doesn't look your way and you walk towards the parking lot.

The sunset looks prettier, the air seems lighter and like some cheesy sitcom lead, you hope that you get to see him again.

(Spoiler: you do.)

[mj-iza-writer]

bat human hybrid whumpee being told to get down from somewhere high by caretaker

c: "whumpee, get down from there!"

w: *annoyed bat noises* (before eventually flying down after a minute or two)

Oh that's a great idea.

"Please Whumpee, come down from there", Caretaker worriedly, but calmly peels a banana, "I haven't placed a new patch on your wing yet. Your old one might fall off with exertion."

"Squeak, squeak", Whumpee calls from the tree where they hang upside down and look at Caretaker happily.

"Don't talk back to me. Please get down from there. If the patch falls off you'll land on your face", Caretaker lifts the banana as a peace offering, "come on, it's your favorite."

"Squeak", Whumpee flaps their wings as a sign of curiosity.

"Whumpee", Caretaker calls again, patience leaving their voice, "you know what? I'm about to eat this and we don't have any more bananas until the delivery comes tomorrow", Caretaker starts lifting the treat to their mouth.

Squ...wait", Whumpee whimpers, "I want nana."

"Then fly your butt down here", Caretaker warns, "I need you to land on the blankets."

"Nana?", Whumpee whines.

"You can have your banana after I place a new patch on your wing", Caretaker breaks a piece off, "here come get a bite."

Whumpee struggled to get down.

They flew sideways, relying heavily on their good wing.

Landing was just as rough.

"I told you not to fly until I got your wing fixed", Caretaker frowned.

"I got excited", Whumpee giggled.

"Well now you are grounded, and not allowed to fly", Caretaker knelt down onto the blankets.

Whumpee stuck out a pouty lip and whined.

"Don't even try it", Caretaker shows them the banana chunk.

Whumpee's eyes sparkle as they lick their snout.

"Pwease", Whumpee vibrates excitedly.

Caretaker sighs and holds the banana close to Whumpee's mouth.

They chuckle lightly as Whumpee takes a big bite and smacks their jaws together happily as they chew. Their cheeks stuffed to the max.

"Yes you are grounded today, but if you behave I might be nice to scratch your head with the toothbrush. How does that sound?"

"Squ squ squ", Whumpee excitedly sits up.

"No, you lay back down. Let's look at this wing", Caretaker smiles, "you drive me batty sometimes."

Whumpee giggles as they eye the rest of the banana.

"Nana?", Whumpee whispers.

Caretaker holds the rest to Whumpee's lips and watches them take another big bite.

"You love your nanas", Caretaker chuckles.

Seriously you need to watch a video of a fruit bat eating a banana. It's absolutely adorable. I am loving how everyone agrees on the possibilities of a bat hybrid Whumpee. And, the ideas that are coming out from it. -MJ

[moonriver080]

【Funny Story Time】

I wrote an article for my 6 pictures

I tried to machine translate a paragraph and modify it.

But it's too long. I give up.

During Links meal breaks, the chains sometimes share anecdotes from the past to improve their understanding of each other ......

Well, sometimes it's not so much the anecdotes that are shared as it is the puzzles or the creepy pasts that are shared on reflection. (And some people seem to enjoy it.

It was a spring-flowery afternoon, and the sun was just right, and mixed with the sweet aroma of the chef's well-cooked courser milk soup, it had to be said that it was a very good soothing respite for Links, who had just finished a hard-fought battle, both physically and mentally.

Everything was just right, so Warriors let his guard down and picked a conversation that had left him a bit exhausted for the next week (Oh! Don't get me wrong, it was actually quite an interesting process and development /grin/)

Huh, how could he be blamed, after all the Warriors, who was more social than the other Links, was relatively adept at grasping the melodrama of the atmosphere, knowing when to be quiet and when it was better to have a chat.

They all understood that the team was, with the exception of certain ones, clamshells that had come to life one by one. (Or maybe some of the outgoing ones are actually clamshells.) (Aha! A new way of flirting with oneself is born.)

Anyway, this is why Warriors wave his spoon smugly (like a tiny flag): "...... When we triumphed, the streets were filled with petals and ribbons, and people clustered in the streets and upstairs and on the rooftops, and though, trampled by the war, both the roads and the .. were somewhat depressed ...... Well! That part doesn't matter now!"Warriors stirs the soup and takes a small sip (any more and we won't be able to start a conversation today, Wild, the

boy's food is gaggingly good), "...brave soldiers walk the streets of Castle Town, their footsteps without the thunder of applause that rises up at the first moment, and my beloved Epona kicks and stomps (and here it's being torn apart by sunlight) down the stone streets, edged in gold, and the streets are filled with the most beautiful and beautiful things in the world.My beloved Epona was kicking and stomping along the stone streets edged in gold by the sunlight (glared at by a certain few here), flowers were thrown from all over the place to send blessings to the soldiers, and the fallen flowers covered the whole road, Aaannnnnd!Of course~ I received the most bouquets of flowers~ No matter which way I looked, the screams were like the rising of the tides that rose up and down, and went on and on and on~"

Warriors grunts and laughs as he speaks, lifting his bangs and skimming the ends of his hair.

Gee, he's always showing off his hormones that have nowhere to go.Legend smacked his lips on his spoon, the delicious food immediately soothing his prickly nerves caused by the teasing, but ......

Putting aside some of his "preconceptions", Warriors was indeed a strong general with leadership qualities, and under the circumstances, it was only natural that he would be welcomed to protect the people, lead the soldiers, gather the divided world, defeat Ganon, and bring safety to the people.With this in mind, Legend picked out the fruit in the soup and took a bite.Looks like he's popular, that's really good. Well, yummy.

(Wild has fine-tuned for everyone's tastes, the golden apple chunks added late in his bowl are soft, crunchy and sweet after micro-cooking, rich in flavor, he had asked for some seeds long ago, but Wild said that this golden apples are produced by probability,. Hummm, Legend who is the hottest apple supplier in Hylia and Loria' smiles but does not say anything.)

But ......Legend chewed another bite of apple chunks, looking at him like this is really unpleasant ah.Legend was disgusted by the image that appeared in his mind of Warriors riding horses and throwing flying kisses to stir up a cheering crowd of cold shivers, ah, can not think about it, a little stomach.[I'm not sure if this paragraph is translated correctly (because I read it myself as if something was wrong, but I don't know what went wrong).]

The Chef of Peace, who had been listening to the story since a moment ago and had somehow become a bit dazed, came back to his senses and looked at Legend, who was blushing a bit darkly, in puzzlement.

【If you want to know the full text, let me know, and maybe I'll translate it intermittently.】

Eggs①: (Three photos taken by Wind) (Price:?)

Confused by the first delivery of the bouquet

Link)

(Link, who was surrounded by civilians, gave flowers and scattered petals to celebrate shyness and cover his face)

(Link who was frightened by the enthusiasm of the people and hid in the Zelda King)

Eggs②:

A week later, another tea break.

Wars looked at Time, who was being chased and intercepted, and drank a cup of sweet and sour fruit tea contentedly.

Offensive and defensive potential is also different, sapling, soldiers are not tired of cheating, plan and then move, is also for the trick. (Completely strung together.)

Wind? Wind curled his lips as he held a small part of the empty cookie bag. Wars really held a grudge.

[eldritch-spouse]

if obie were to ever accidentally let it slip that he desperately wanted to eat me mid fuck i might clench hard enough to cut off his blood circulation, like thats so hot i need him to confess all his dark demonly desires to me

[OH BOY.]

The trick, because he is a tad self-conscious about this, is to start this back and forth when he's nearing a rut.

He's got less of a filter around that period of time. Will fall into degenerate rambling faster. All you really need to do is start with a simple, almost innocuous question, while your hand is wrapped around his dick. That's enough.

Obie will rapidly start ranting about how he controls himself so much, how most of his drooling during sex is a fruit of his efforts not to chew you to pieces. He sees your tits bounce, and more than suck them into his mouth, he wants to feel the tissue mold around his teeth. He wishes he could eat your thighs and tear a chunk out of your ass- He knows he would cum the biggest load of his entire life if you'd let him take just a decent bite. Your flavor must be something holier than the purest angels. But he can never indulge, even if you let him, Obie can't. Because he knows he wouldn't be able to stop. He'd rip and tear and swallow until there's nothing left of you and sanity be damned he would slurp your soul down too. Obie would gorge himself, giving meaning to what a true glutton is, and even if the experience would leave most concubi seething in jealousy of his pleasure, he'd loathe himself forever.

The fact that you seem to get turned on from hearing his mad raving, knowing that his incessant licking is more like the lap of a lion trying to scrape meat off bones, is beffudling. Maybe another glutton would have that reaction, but Obie's never seen a human that got aroused. All sorts of chemicals are flying off in his brain, and he'll make it a point to be a lot more open about the urge to sample you when it does pop up. Wearing a crop top? He'd kill for a bite of your tummy. A short skirt? He's this close to latching onto your thighs.

[kitsuga]

To be, or not to be, ripe. {Elliott x Reader/Farmer}

Description: 

A fic in which Elliott realizes he cannot be good at everything.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

Tags: fluff, is this how you know fruit is ripe? who knows. i dont and neither does elliott, reminder mods have ruined my life idk what is or isnt ooc anymore!, reader is referred to as "Farmer"!, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, stardew valley/sdv x reader/farmer, elliot x reader/farmer, stardew valley/sdv, elliott

Word Count: 2,361

A/N: Written on: October 3, 2022 

look, ive lived in the country a good chunk of my life but I have not even a HINT of a green thumb so I will put my woes on Elliott and have him suffer with me 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Elliott had a way with words, but he wasn’t quite sure how those same words landed him where he was today—in fact, he was fairly certain he ended up somewhere he was simply not built for.  

The sun had its eyes just barely above the horizon, causing Elliott to shield his own-- peeking ever so slightly through his fingers at the scenery that awaited him. It was serene, beautiful; such a vast change of pace to what he was used to, and it was very welcomed. How he ever got so lucky to find love with the Farmer, he would never know, but waking up after a night stayed at their farm was such a nice, emotional reset. He sighed lovingly when he felt their touch brush across his back.  

“Good morning, my love.”  

“Good morning,” they leaned in for a short kiss before leaning against the porch railing beside him, “you’re up early.”  

“The sun was calling me today.”  

“Funny, it called me too. Only,” they sighed and stood straight, stretching a bit, “it called me in for work. What do you think you’ll do today?”  

It was when they hopped off of the farmhouse porch and stood just a little below him that he noticed them dressed and ready for the day of hard work ahead of them. The dew had only just set, yet, they stood tall and light on their toes as they just barely bounced between the balls of their feet a tad bit antsy. Elliott’s heart skipped a beat and couldn’t help the loving smile that grew on his lips.  

“Hmm, I suppose I’ll work as well. Is there something I can help you with, darling?”  

Their eyes widened with surprise, quickly closing to make way for their reassuring smile. 

“You don’t need to help, it’s alright. I’ve got it.” 

“Oh, come on. Don’t trust me?” 

“It’s not that--” 

“Then?” 

The Farmer sighed and hung their head a bit in shame, an apologetic smile on their lips. Elliott had no time to be upset by their words, though, as a light-hearted laugh bubbled up through his chest. He shook his head to dispel their worries; a kind smile crawled into the creases around his eyes as he spoke again. 

“Worry not. I may not be very versed in the ways of farming, but surely there’s something I can do to ease your workload? Anything at all? I’d really like to help you out, my love.” 

The Farmer’s lips twisted to the side in thought as they looked around at the vast land and various crops growing behind them. It was almost like Elliott could see the exclamation mark appear above their head when an idea came to them; they turned back to him so quickly with a large smile and gestured towards the growing patch of watermelons a bit across the way. 

“Well, some of those should be ready to go, if you’d like to pick them! You can pick the ripe ones and soon as I’m done over in the radishes, I’ll come by with the wheelbarrow.”  

Elliott stared out at the patch of green, appearing zoned out and stoic. The Farmer’s smile waivered a bit as they noticed his indifference and quickly spoke again. 

“Um, if that’s okay with you? You don’t have to, obviously--” 

“Oh,” Elliott snapped out of his trance and shook his head. “Of course it’s okay, I was just admiring, is all. I’ll go ahead and get started then, darling. I’ll see you soon.” 

He quickly left the farmhouse porch, kissing the Farmer’s cheek just as quickly before speeding off towards the patch of watermelons. The Farmer followed him with their eyes, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion before shaking it off and heading towards their own patch of ready to harvest crops.  

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒ 

Elliott was definitely not in his element.  

Standing in the middle of the patch, he had no idea which watermelons were ready to pick, and which had more maturing to do. They all looked green—surely it wasn’t a matter of colour? Or was it? Was he to count the lines on the melon and see if they hit a certain amount? No, that was ridiculous. Regardless, Elliott had never had the pleasure of growing nor harvesting his own watermelon, among other things, and was definitely lost. He could pick a good one out at the market! But harvesting? Certainly, a whole different ball game. They had to be just a bit before being perfectly ripe so they could ripen a bit in the bin before selling, right? But, just how much before they were perfectly ripe should they be pulled? Or, did they have to be pre-ripe at all? He didn’t know! Elliott swallowed and sighed heavily. Why didn’t he simply ask his partner what he was looking for? Why must pride get in his way?  

He looked among the melon patch again, looking for at least one to go based off of. His eyes landed on one melon—a bit on the small size—but it seemed to be the perfect shade of green; the stripes were nice and dark, not too many of them, and the melon was almost so perfectly round. That was it! The perfect melon, he thought. Elliott cut it from the stem and rolled it out into the open and moved to the next nice one a few melons down. He continued going up and down the lines picking the nice, hand-sized, rounder melons and skipping ones he considered too small, and ones he considered too large, not green enough, or oval shaped. 

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he stood up straight with his hands on his hips, chest puffed out in pride. It wasn’t very many melons, he thought to himself, just a handful. Would that be enough for the Farmer? He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about it a bit more, though his thoughts were cut off once the Farmer walked up behind him with the wheelbarrow and called out to him. 

“Hey! Done already?”  

“Oh, there you are!” Elliott turned to them with a smile so big it threatened to crack his face in half. “You worked fairly quick as well.”  

“Yeah, not a lot of them were very ripe so I didn’t have too many to grab. It’s been a good hour, though, Elliott.” 

“Has it been?” Elliott exclaimed, completely flabbergasted. “I guess the time really flew by. I guess that’s what you mean when you say there really feels like there isn’t enough time in the day.” 

“I told you! The day just flies right on by!” They moved to stand next to him and linked their arm with his. “Let's take a look at the haul today!” 

The Farmer finally looked across the field and grew quiet, a deadpan look on their face, unbeknownst to Elliott. He had puffed his chest out again, every inch of him filling with pride, readying himself for praise from his love; when silence filled the air, he deflated a bit and grew a bit shy, now sweating a bit from nerves. He swallowed a bit and looked at the Farmer’s face, noticing the deadpan expression being contradicted by the way they bit their lip and shook from trying not to do... something. Were they going to cry? Were they going to yell? Did he do it wrong? Elliott started to apologize profusely. 

“I’m so sorry, darling! I ruined it, didn’t I? I messed up and ruined your crops, I’m so very sorry--” 

He was cut off by the Farmer finally cracking; a genuine, hearty laugh bursting from their chest. They had folded over, clutching Elliott’s arm with one hand to keep stable as the other held their stomach so they didn’t bust at the seams with how hard they were laughing. It was Elliott’s turn to stand there with a deadpan expression, unsure of how to react.  

“I’m-- I’m sorry,” they stumbled through laughter as they tried to speak. “It’s just, it’s just so funny.” 

“I’m so glad my incompetence can provide you with entertainment.”  

“Oh, Elliott.” The Farmer took a few deep breaths, working to calm themselves down before patting him lovingly on the chest. “Don’t be like that. You have to admit, it is pretty funny. None of the ones you cut are ripe, what was the thought process?” 

“They were green. They had good looking stripes. They were round. They were reasonably sized.” 

“Elliott...” The Farmer stifled a laugh again. “You were half way there.”  

Elliott turned his chin up away from them; he didn’t want to face them because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and honestly felt fairly bad. He really did ruin a good portion of their crop, didn’t he? He cost them a pretty penny, he was sure; how would he pay them back? How would he make up for it? Why were they laughing rather than getting mad at him—he would be distraught if the roles had been reversed. His false pride completely deflated and he hung his head, sighing once again and mumbling out another apology. 

“I’m genuinely very sorry, dear.” His ears started to burn red with embarrassment. “Truly. Is there a way you’d like me to repay you? How much would it cost to replace them?” 

“Elliott, really, it’s fine.” They cupped his face and gently coaxed him into looking at them, a loving smile greeted him. “It’s okay. It really isn’t that bad—it's just a few of them. No need to keep apologizing.” 

They kissed the tip of his nose, gently nuzzling their own against his until he slowly returned the gesture, loosening the stress he held in his shoulders.  

“Are you sure?” His voice sounded defeated. 

“Absolutely sure.” Another kiss to his nose. “Let me show you which ones to pick. I’ve got some neat tricks up my sleeve to picking the ripe ones!”  

Elliott sighed, but gave an exasperated smile, promising to perk up once he moved past his embarrassment. He followed behind, dragging his feet slightly as they went along, coming to the first watermelon he deemed unpickable. It was fairly large, oval, and definitely lopsided. He rejected it for its size, thinking it was far past the presentable state as it would be too big to carry—at least to his home on the beach. They crouched down and encouraged him to join. 

“See, it’s nice and big, so it doesn’t need to do any extra growing; they don’t keep growing on the shelf, after all.” Another embarrassment struck Elliott in the heart. “The real tell on all ripe watermelons though, is the patch of discoloration here on the bottom.” 

When they lifted the melon, Elliott could see a fairly sized yellow patch, varying in degrees of shades. It looked ugly, imperfect, and not like the ones he had picked at all. He gave them a sideways glare, confused and skeptical. They laughed when they caught a glimpse of it and gave the melon a good pat. 

“See, the patch means it’s been on the ground long enough to be nice and ripe when you crack into it. Too yellow—too ripe—grainy, gross, no flavour. Brown—way too ripe-- rotten, even. No yellow spot—it isn’t up to its full potential, and when it ripens on the shelf, it won’t be as good as it should be. This sweet, sweet middle,” another pat to the watermelon, “gives you the sweet, sweet watermelon.”  

“...This... ugly little spot is the tell for the watermelon?” 

“It’s ugly but it does the job.”  

“...And you’re sure about this?” 

“Elliott, have you never picked a watermelon up at the market?” 

“Now that you mention it, I don’t remember if I have.” 

“Well, if the ‘ugly little spot’ isn’t good enough for you, try tapping it.”  

The Farmer leaned down slightly to get a better ear on it and knocked their knuckles against it. Elliott leaned down as well, listening in to a bit of a hollow sound. 

“See? Just like a door. The best, ripe melons will be hollow sounding. They will also, unfortunately, not be as green. A nice, dull colour; an ugly melon is a good melon on the inside.” 

“An ugly melon.” 

“It has a nice personality.” 

“Does it now?” 

“Well, we can crack this one open and test the theory.”  

The Farmer laughed and leaned into Elliott, stealing a small kiss from his lips as he sat on his heels staring at the melon with pure doubt. They pulled him up by his hand after cutting the melon from its vine and put their hands on their hips. A bright smile thrown his way was enough to perk Elliott up from moping as he leaned in to kiss them this time. 

“There you are! I was wondering when you were going to get out of that head of yours.” 

“It’s a very crowded place. Hard to navigate.” 

“I’m sure it is, oh great writer. Come on, help me pick the rest of the melons and put them in the bin, then we can pick out the best of the bunch just for ourselves, as a treat!” 

“What is a good melon if not fuel for our hard-earned labour?” 

“Okay, maybe I’ll get the watermelon instead and you will have none.” 

“You knew this was a thing before I courted you, my dear. Do not act like it is new.” 

Elliott laughed as the Farmer stuck their tongue out at him in good humour. He leaned in for one more kiss before the Farmer took off down the line of crops playfully running from him, taunting him to catch up or he’d have to push the wheelbarrow.  

He watched for a moment before following after them, a smile on his face the entire time. He was certainly out of his element—and he had no idea how his words brought him here today, but he was beyond thankful to be here with his love, and he was ready and willing to learn everything there was about the farming business if it meant he got to stay.  

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [4.5/...]

- OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: In which Buggy discovers that he’s in over his head while making a deal with Arlong the Saw.

Warnings: LA! One Piece, Canon typical violence, slight canon divergence, Arlong is his own warning

A/N: Unfortunately, part 6 of "DMTMYHB" is a little delayed and won't be out until at least next week. However, I began working on this initially out of boredom, so at least you can read about Buggy's POV after the events of chapter 4 and before the events of chapter 5.

Life sure is a shitshow sometimes, Buggy thinks to himself while spitting out a few grains of sand. For fish people, there’s a certain irony with pulling over a bag propped with sand over his head.

Then again, it could’ve been considerably worse.

They could have decided to water board him, or maybe take a decent chunk off his nose. It’s not too outlandish to assume that these kinds of people prefer the taste of human flesh, and although he considers himself fairly experimental man on occasion, that one is not on his kink list.

He might be big-headed sometimes, he’s man enough to admit as much, but even Buggy knows better than to underestimate the fish people. He’s had his fair share of encounters with them before, and needless to say, mixing a Devil Fruit eater with people who primarily live and breathe in the sea is a bad combination.

A very, very bad combination, especially if you throw Arlong the Saw into the mixture. Buggy’s not a recluse; he’s heard of his reputation as the self-proclaimed ruler of the East Blue. Ask just about anyone who he is, and they’ll whisper his name while pissing their pants like school children.

A misanthrope with a less than discreet disdain for all things human, and a face only a mother could hope to love, the guy does not fuck around with what he considers his, which approximately covers all of the East Blue. And the people in it are merely collateral.

If anything’s a testament, it’s his bounty. Twenty million berries for his head, doesn’t matter if it’s attached to his body or not. The highest bounty on this piece of the ocean.

Well, second highest. The top spot belongs to you, but that’s a thought Buggy has tried desperately to bury in the sand for the past few days. He doesn’t need to think about you, least of all now.

He has bigger fish to deal with, and it blows.

It’s his fucking luck that this is happening specifically to him.

No, it wasn’t enough that he got his ass handed to him by a bunch of scrawny nobodies.

It didn’t suffice that he had to watch you turn your back to him twice in a lifetime.

He’s managed to evade the saw-nosed fucker’s eye up until this point, and so, of course Fate would deal him this final one.

Just as the cherry on top of the shitty sundae that is his life.

So, to conceal or own terrified state when faced with the darkened stage room, Buggy decides to do what Buggy does best:

Fake it ‘til he makes it.

And he sure as fuck hope he does.

“Is this the best way to ask for an autograph?” His echo bounces like a ball through the darkened room. “I mean sheesh! Fans have gotten so toxic!”

The eerie silence is his only companion now, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Not even the two fishy folks standing guard at his side offers him more than rolled eyes. Rude.

This place — his stage — which once served as his sanctuary, might soon become his tomb. If Arlong lives up to his rep, he’ll ask the clown to dig his own hole before chomping on his jugular.

Curtains for him and all fucking that.

“Alright, what do you want?! Tickets to the show? I can get you house seats, they’re pricey!”

A loud thud emerges from the shadows behind him, and a cold breeze brushes against the the exposed skin on his face.

“Oh, I am no fan of yours.”

He knows a beast when he hears one, even better when he sees them. He spent the good portion of his youth alongside one, and witnessed first-hand just how they could be. Beasts are strong, and brutal, and precise. They can tear you apart if they deem it necessary because it’s in their nature, but that’s all it is. Nature.

However, Buggy’s also come to discover that beasts have also the capacity for kindness and love. A beast is someone he can fall in love with.

This thing that emerges from the dark at his side, on the other hand, is no mere beast.

Hell, he can’t even qualify it as such. This creature at his side, one he doesn’t dare to face at first until he notices it’s gradual approach, is a monster.

Ain’t no way in the blue hell he’ll ever consider tapping that the way he would with a beast.

“I run things here in the East Blue,” the fish-man speaks, voice grating Buggy ears as he circles the clown. “I’m here to remind of you of your place in the food chain. You pull a job in my seas, you gotta pay tribute.”

Despite the fact that he’s nervous as shit, there’s a certain taunt crystallising in Buggy’s brain that he’s subconsciously urged to free against his better judgement.

Arlong’s place is second in this so-called food chain. Yours is the first, and if it wasn’t for the fact that voicing this would guarantee his premature death, Buggy would’ve reminded the fishy shithead of this.

Despite whatever grievances you two share, Buggy knows that he won’t mind not being at the top as long as it means it’s not under Shark-boy’s hierarchy.

The East Blue is, per Arlong’s definition, yours, whether you know it or not, and he’d much rather comply with that.

But Buggy keeps his act going. “But Arlong, baby, you don’t gotta worry about me. I’m small potatoes. Pirating’s more of a side gig.”

As much as he tries, and he does try, Buggy knows his words can’t keep the shark’s teeth at bay for much longer. Arlong is not a patient type, and it just about snaps when he reaches for his throat and prepares to chomp.

Buggy doesn’t intend to die now. He can’t. He’s got unfinished business to attend to.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Maybe fate is actually on his side for fucking once, because the fish man actually does wait.

He has a shot.

“You know who’s out there really disrespecting you? It’s that little Rubber-Prick in the straw hat, goes by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn’t work, because it seems Arlong is more of a recluse than him. Has never heard the boys name. So, he tries a different approach before the teeth settle in again.

“He— He’s not alone.” Fuck, he’s losing air, and he kinda needs that to get the primary point into Arlong's thick, scaly head. A point that he’ll be sure to catch the asshole’s attention. “Cross-Hairs is with him!”

Arlong halts, and his lips don a sneer.

Another thing Buggy has discovered in all of this is that Arlong is an inherently proud guy, and believes himself superior to others not only because of his fishy nature, but due to the fact that he has among the largest bounties on this piece of the map.

Yours is the only obstacle keeping him from completely claiming that title.

“The Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates has been absent for the past decade.” Arlong lets up on the pressure around his neck, enough to let Buggy grasp a few fistfuls of air, but his feet still dangle above the ground.

“Y-Yeah—,” Buggy heaves. “But her— b-bounty hasn’t changed, has it? And the kid, he just knocked over a marine’s base in Shells Town, then he stole a map of the Grand Line and now he’s talking shit about finding the One Piece.”

This seems to be enough reason for Arlong to finally drop him, and Buggy struggles to retrieve all the air he’s lost.

“The One Piece, an excuse for humans to spread their filth across the seas.” Arlong is less than impressed, but what he says next opens a door. “Why should I concern myself with the ambitions of a mere human boy?”

“Because that map is useful,” Buggy regains some semblance of balance on his knees. “The kid is not, but I have unfinished business with him. What’s more, if Cross-Hairs is with him, then that’s your chance to get the highest bounty in all of the East Blue. Think about it! You’ll be at the top of the list if she’s out of the way.”

Arlong doesn’t like the implication laced in Buggy’s words, the possibility that he’s in any way lesser than a human. “I am already at the top of the list, clown. The Cross-Haired Pirates are disbanded, and humans tend to age so quickly compared to fish men. I’m sure she’s grown old and weary in the last couple of years, hardly worth my time.”

Buggy wants to smile. Smile as he thinks about just how fucking wrong this guy can be. The years have not drained you, nor weakened you, nor made you any less hot if he does say so himself.

Oh, if anyone can wipe the floor with Arlong, it’s you. That’s why he’s not afraid of revealing your current whereabouts, because he already knows fishy over there will get his ass whopped big time.

“How about this: you let me live, and I’ll help you find Luffy and Cross-Hairs. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

Two birds, one stone, and one fish filet, to be more specific.

Arlong grabs him by the neck. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I've got eyes and ears everywhere.”

The fish takes the bait, and Buggy can't help but laugh.

Laugh, not because Arlong agrees to his plan, but because the guy is going to be struck by lightning so fucking hard that in the end, there'll be nothing left of him save for that ugly-ass tool he calls a nose.

The moron has deliberately put himself up for slaughter, and personally, Buggy can’t wait to watch the show unfold.

The stage is yours.

He’ll watch from the front rows and give you an upstanding applause once the curtains falls.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k, @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

[baileythebean]

CHARACTER IDEAS AND PERSONALITY TRAITS FOR: LUCA HANAMI 🧋(RANT WARNING)

Luca is Bailey and Pebble’s kid! His art is still being conceptualized :3

Pronouns: They/He/It

Goes by: Luca, Lucas, Luke, Luna, Atlas

Age: 14-15 (oldest of the cast’s kids other than Velvette)

Jet black hair with cyan streaks/chunks in it, possibly a few other colored dyed streaks! Greenish-hazel-teal eyes, one more mellow and brownish than the other (slight heterochromia) Their style leans more towards the scene and emo categories. LOVES painting its nails. Unusually taller than everyone.

Personality:

Mellow, laid back, CONSTANTLY sleep-deprived w heavy dark circles, needs energy drinks to function, sometimes has too much caffeine and tweaks out (??), fidgets a lot, shaking, LOTS of repetitive vocal stims, starts fights unintentionally and genuinely does not care about people trying to have beef w him. They’ll just ignore them and they cant really do anything about it. Most carefree person on earth - he has a wide vocabulary and can wipe the floor with anyone during a debate. Makes dirty jokes 24/7 (only to people old enough to understand) Not spatially aware, will run into doorframes and shit, doesn’t look like he’s aware of his own existence half the time. He’s the FIRST ONE to pull up to a fist fight when one of his younger cousins has one, will usually scare off the other kid. (‘OH NO, A HIGH SCHOOLER, RUUUUUN’ type situation). Free babysitter half the time (without his knowledge) but he’s the kinda guy kids just naturally already like. They’ll regularly grow their hair to like mid-neck length just to put it in a ponytail, and then cut it again when it’s too long for their taste. Loves crunchy and textured fruit candies, fruit-flavored Monster energy and fruit in general. They can only consume fizzy drinks, otherwise it’s just meh to him… plain texture liquids are boring. Their dmr au version has Bailey’s kemonomimi features as well as horns from Pebble. Bailey helps dye its hair sometimes! They switch out the colors regularly. Not sure about his orientation or gender yet, but he’s pretty into androgynous-looking people.

@averagetmntfan @schnozzlebozzle @clown-prince-of-gay @rebootgrimm @dmr-au

@grandselfmythologizing @weirdassartist @candycoffinss @itznotquinn @msmpictures

@thesilliestofallqueers @cherrythepuppet

[bluebearial]

The Real You

7.5k words

You want to get something special for your plushie GF! But all they have are some weird, heart-shaped pillows that cause a few… changes.

Contains TF, bimbofication, and a lot of snuggling. Gets a little saucy in one part but no actual sex happens.

This one was hard to write!! I cut and redid a good chunk of this a few times. As silly as it sounds I wanted it to be a fun bimbofication story while also keeping it from getting too silly? I wanted it to feel genuine and explore lupa’s character a bit. At the same time I didn’t want it to get too emotional. The tonal shift would’ve been distracting and it didn’t feel good to write. You might see where those parts would’ve been but who knows maybe I cleaned it up well enough teehee

I dunno if I wanna even call it a bimbofication thing anymore? It feels deeper than that

Anyway no more rambling, full story below the cut. Can be found on google docs for your convenience as well.

You lean against the handle of your shopping cart, studying your grocery list through squinted eyes.

“Milk… eggs, chicken, fruit, bread…”

You brush a lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You’ve gotten basically everything. Everything except…

“Pillows…”

You feel a tinge of frustration. Reading that word prompts you to recount the events of the past two hours. You recall entering the store, as one does, and you recall that after getting your food, you started looking for Lupa’s food. Lupa was a… “carnivore”…? You assumed as much at least, from the feral way your housemate-slash-maybe-girlfriend tore her pillows apart when she ate them. Either way, you were looking for something special for her. You and Lupa have only been getting closer, so you figured you’d treat her to something special! No more generic pillows for her – time for something more fitting for a wolf like her. Now, if only you could find the right ones…

--

An “Oh, there you are” is the first thing you hear as you tote your groceries through the door. You find Lupa splayed on the couch, looking at nothing in particular through a half-lidded eye. The hulking wolf sits up with a long, drawn-out stretch and a whiny yawn.

“What took you so long, dude?” she asks, resting leaning against the armrest as she looks back at you. “It’s so boring around here. Not like there’s much to even do. I can’t--…” Her mouth was open, ready to continue her thought, but the instant she looks at you, her face softens.

“Hey, you alright?” She’s already out of her seat and thumping her way towards you. She kneels down to take your bags, but the size of her paws makes it a little difficult to get her fingers through the loops in the handles. She settles for just grabbing them, pulling them from your hands and setting them on the counter. Then, she kneels in front of you, letting you fall into her big, soft arms.

“What even happened out there, dude?” She asks as she cradles you, taking you towards the couch. “Y’look like you’ve been through a warzone.”

“Long day at work… and a long day at the store,” you offer sleepily as she takes a seat with you. You shuffle in her grasp, sitting up so you’re sitting in her lap. The way her paw feels as she strokes your hair is so relaxing...

“Wow. Two long days in one day, huh? Tch. Now how’d that happen?” she teases.

“You know what I mean,” you answer a little more indignantly than you’d intended, but she just snickers in return. She’s always had a way of teasing you in a way that gets under your skin, but usually not in a way that really bothers you.

“Just sayin’.” She stops stroking to give you a shrug. “It jus’ doesn’t make much sense to me.”

You roll your eyes, biting down a response before you say something you might regret. Looking at the confident smirk on her face, you know that she’s just begging for a response. Some banter in return. You know she was just trying to be funny. It’s her way of trying to cheer you up, and it usually worked! But right now, it was annoying you more than anything else. God, you really are tired. So, instead of dwelling on it, you opt to move on.

“Hey, Lulu. I got something for you while I was out.” You could practically feel her perk up. Her tail sweeps the couch for a few seconds.

“Huh? Oh yeah? What didja get, Squirt? Somethin’ yummy, I hope.”

You pat Lupa’s arm, and she lets you go. You stand up, despite your body’s protests, and meander to the counter. You grab a bag, pulling one of the heart-shaped pillows out, turning it so its message of ‘I Love You!~’ is in full view. Lupa snickers.

“Ha! Alright, look. I…” She pauses. You could see her tail wag – slowly and discreetly, as if it would apologize just for moving. “…I mean, wow, uh. I love you too, but ain’t this kinda… I dunno, chintzy? Even for you?” She asks in her usual, brusque way.

“I know…” You practically deflate on the spot. You could feel the weight of the past few hours begin to bear down on you all at once. “I wanted to get you these really cute ones that were bone-shaped, but they ran ouuuut... All they had was this old leftover stock from Valentine’s Day…”

“Well—Hey, look…” She scrambles to comfort you in her own sweet, if a little clumsy, way. She holds out a paw, motioning you over. “It’s the thought that counts, right? Here, toss it to me.”

You do just that, and she easily catches it in her mitt. The wolf turns the pillow over in her grip, scanning over its glittery, scarlet form with a discerning eye. She pulls on it, giving it a good stretch.

Then, she licks it.

She ends up giving it a slow lick, but her eye lights up the moment her tongue touches it. She licks it again, quicker this time, before rapidly lapping it with her tongue.

“Pretty good, huh?” you ask, feeling a bit of your confidence return as you approach her.

“Yeah. Yeah, actually!” She bites into it with a ferocity that makes you flinch. You should be used to it by now, but Lupa can be surprisingly rough with her food. She loudly tears a piece from it. She sticks her paw inside, tugging out a few tufts of stuffing and tossing them into her waiting maw. The sounds of gleeful, open-mouthed chewing fill the room… As you watch her, a question bubbles to the forefront of your mind. It’s a question that you’ve meant to ask for some time, but something would always keep you from opening your mouth.

“…Hey, Lupa?”

You’d dip your proverbial toes into the pool, and the wolf pauses her chewing to offer a muffled “Whuht?”

“What does it taste like?” The way she tilts her head gives you pause. “The pillow, I mean—”

“I know you mean the pillow, dude,” she retorts with a roll of her eye. She swallows, before clearing her throat. “It’s liiike… Sweet, I guess? The stuffing’s got a smooth taste, and the little, uh…” She trails off, brushing her paw against what’s left of the pillow’s exterior. The way that the glitter twinkles in the light is hard to ignore…

“These, shiny things—”

“Glitter?” you cut in. She nods.

“Yeah, glitter. They’re like… These little grains of sweetness, like—"

“Like sugar?”

“Yeah!”

It makes sense, you suppose. From the sound of it, the pillows you got her were basically like big, sugary cakes. If that was the case, then… If you got those bone-shaped ones like you intended to, would they have tasted like… soft bones?

“Well…” you start, but a yawn shoves its way amidst your sentence, “I’m glad you like it. There’s a whole bag of ‘em for you on the counter,” you sigh, pointing to the bags filled with pillows behind you. You rub your eyes as you climb up onto her, wrapping your arms around her middle and burying your face into her chest. Lupa pats your back, coaxing a relaxed sigh out of you with only a few gentle rubs. Pat-pat-pat. It's a routine that the two of you had learned during your time together.

You have plenty of time to react, to back out, but you’re much too comfy to bother. She offers a soothing ‘shhhhh…~’ as she hefts you closer, pressing your face into her thickly-furred chest. You’d realized you forgot to make dinner, or to even shower once you’d come home. It’s a fleeting thought which dissipates as you hear the breeze outside, as though the wind itself had blown your worries away. Soon, you find yourself drifting to sleep. You do manage to eek out one last thought, however.

“G’night, Lulu…”

“My name’s not ‘Lulu’, dweeeeb.” Lupa’s groan sounds muffled. Distant, though you could barely make out its indignant tone. You’re already well on your way to dreamland, so her voice is a faraway echo.

--

You wake up. Begrudgingly.

A ray of light hits your eye with the kind of precision that makes you wonder if the heavens themselves wanted to wake you up. You have no choice but to oblige, but it’s not like you’re going to be happy about it. You indignantly squeeze the soft, grey plush that you’re hugging, affectionately rubbing your cheek against it as you long to return to your peaceful slumber.

“Hey, Lulu—Lupa?” You ask your plush, catching yourself as you remember Lupa’s complaint from the previous night. “What time is it…?” You at least remember that it’s the weekend as well. No panicking about your job, no specific time at which you need to wake up. You hug your plush closer, letting out a content little murmur and nuzzling into its short, fuzzy pelt. She doesn’t respond.

“Lupa?” you ask again, slightly more alert this time around. Maybe she’s just as sleepy as you. Dragging her out of bed is always a trial. However… You sluggishly come to realize that the plush you’re hugging feels… different. It lacks the warmth you’d come to expect from your friend. Its fur is too short, feeling more like a layer of fuzz instead of a thick pelt. You tear your face away from it, and—Oh. This isn’t Lupa.

It’s one of your other plushes! It’s in the form of a small lizard – no, a kobold, you remember – with dark brown hair that’s streaked with soft, pink highlights. It wears a small, pink shirt with a white heart… You think you named this one… Jennifer? You feel a little bad for nearly forgetting its name, but it’s been so long. You usually keep this one tucked away in your bedroom... What’s Jen doing here, though? And where’s Lupa?

Leaving it on the couch, you sit up and wipe the sleep from your eyes. It’s not like Lupa to leave you in bed like this. Why, you’re almost offended. You could practically feel your joints creak as you stand up, and take a much-needed moment to stretch. Your body yearns for more downtime, but you really ought to find your friend first. You feel pretty confident that you could convince her to come back to bed with you. Maybe you’ll opt for your real bed, though. That couch is rough.

A hollow, plastic thump from the bathroom is your first and only lead. It sounds like a shampoo bottle hitting the floor, maybe? What’s she doing in there...? It’s not like her to try and take a shower.

But… As you lift your shirt to your nose and wince, you figure that once you find her, maybe you could probably get cleaned up.

“Hey, Lupa?” You call as you knock on the door. No response. You knock again, and still nothing. You’d almost assume there was nobody inside, if it weren’t for that recurring shuffling noise, only broken up by the occasional sound of an object hitting the floor. Then, you hear what could only be described as a plastic avalanche.

“Lu—” Oh, forget it. You don’t bother calling her again. You turn the knob and abruptly shove the door open. Thankfully, it wasn’t locked. “Lupa, are you… okay…?”

Your bathroom was already on the smaller side, even without bottles of shampoo, conditioner, oil, and bodywash littering what little floorspace there is. You look at the floor for only a brief moment, just to make sure you don’t trip over anything, because the mess isn’t what really grabs your attention.

It takes your bleary eyes and sleep-addled mind a moment to catch up with what you’re seeing. A wolf, covered in a bright, pink coat of fur, is leaned over the sink. At least, you think it’s a wolf? She’s tall, heavyset, and her wagging tail is busy sweeping the shelves and adding to the mess on the floor. From the way she swears under her breath as she glares into the mirror, she looks agitated about something. Her green collar jingles as she shifts her weight, using her fat paws to mess with her blonde hair. Seams line her joints, giving her a plush, toylike look. It reminds you of another wolf that you know…

“Oh—” A piece of red fabric slips from her paws, gliding to the floor. The… wolf, lets out a sigh as she bends over to pick it up. “I swear, fifth time this morning…” She softly whines, “I’m like, never gonna get this ri—”

Her gaze meets yours, and she freezes. You suddenly feel a lot more aware of your own presence in this small room. Your eyes are as wide as dinnerplates as you stare into her singular, golden eye. You don’t know what she’s going to do- you don’t even know what to say – words don’t come easy when you’re this tired. Thankfully, she speaks first.

“Ohmygosh, you’re awake!!~☆” Before you can react, she scoops you up into her arms! She nuzzles your cheek, planting kiss after kiss on you as you try to push her away. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally here! You were still asleep so I wanted to like, get a head start on the day!”

“H-Hey! Stop!” You shout, hands firmly pressed against her cheeks in an effort to counter her assault. But that only stops her from kissing you. The plush switches tactics, pressing you against her heavy chest. And it is heavy. Lupa was already very… ‘Soft’, you’d say, but this chest was even bigger. A thick layer of fur sits on top of it too, like a dewlap, giving it an even rounder, fuzzier shape… She rubs you against her body, swaying her thick hips and letting out quiet, affectionate canine whines...

Pah!! You gasp for air once you push yourself away from her for a second time. You’re still in her grip, though, and she looks down at you with a warm smile.

“Who, are you.” You ask as you take a moment to breathe. “Where’s Lupa?”

Your intruder tilts her head, letting out a confused “Wruff?” She then puts a paw on her hip, giving you a look. You try to wriggle out of her grip, but you find that her other arm is more than strong enough to keep you where you are. You close your eye as she tightens her hold a bit, smushing you up against the lower half of her white bust.

“Um, duhhh. You’re like, looking right at her?” She replies with a roll of her eye, a playfully indignant edge to her otherwise cheery voice. She’s picked up a bit of an accent too. It’s not an accent you’ve heard since you lived in Cali. She giggles. It’s an especially bubbly, girly sound as she covers her mouth with a pink paw. But. Wait.

This is Lupa?

“But—Lu—Wh—How--” How, how could this be possible? You shake your head in an effort to keep your thoughts in order, “You look. Different, though.” Her expression wilts, and her shoulders sink as she lets out a sigh...

“I knooooowww….” comes her drawn out reply, punctuated as she dejectedly looks at the floor. Before you can ask what to do, she continues. “I haven’t been able to like, put my hair up at all today…”

“I- That’s- Don’t you think you’re kinda missing the point?” You ask slowly. Forget the hair, what about everything else?

“Ouhh,,,” she groans… “Could you like, gimme a paw, Babe? I look terrible without my ponytail!” She runs her paws through her smooth, blonde mane for emphasis, lifting it up before letting it drop past her shoulders once more. “Like, I’m totally not myself at all…”

You grimace. She’s not listening…

“…Alright.” You settle on a simply reply, but your mind is racing. You decide to accept it. For now. You get the feeling that – if this really is Lupa, your chances of getting through to her right now are slim. “I’ll, uh, I’ll help you.” She lights right up in response, her eye sparkling with simple adoration. Her tail starts wagging again, turning into a pink and white blur!

“Really? Oh, thanks hun!~” She lilts, voice dripping with an uncharacteristically sugary sweetness, squeezing you into another hug before mercifully letting you go. You pick up the bow that she’d dropped before, and you follow her back to the mirror. You pull a small box out from under the counter. Stepping onto it, you get to work. You’re a good deal more dexterous than your lupine buddy, so you’re able to tie her hair up easily enough. You’ve done a good job at collecting it into a fluffy ponytail. With so much hair to work with, it still reaches down to her hips. You give the ends of her bow a few gentle tugs, just to make sure it’s tight, before letting go.

“And… done. What do you think?”

She hums as she looks over her reflection, leaning in once more. Her chest smushes against the sink, letting out the quietest little squeee~eak as she applies more pressure. While she’s busy, you take the opportunity to study her a bit more closely…

She runs her bright, pink paws through her hair, combing it straight with her sparkly, magenta claws. She tilts her head one way, then the other, causing her doglike ears to flop to the side. Those ears… They’re probably the biggest things that confused you when you first saw her.

Aside from. Everything else.

However, thanks to those ears, you couldn’t tell whether she was really a wolf or not. Right now, she looks more like a big dog... Her tail lazily swings behind her, and it’s hard to ignore the way it baps against your side.

At least that part’s still the same.

What isn’t the same is how… short, it is? No, not short. As you grab it, you realize that it’s just completely curled up now, to the point where it no longer drags along the floor. Pure white fur covers the end and bottom of it, with a dark purple border separating it from the rest of her pink coat. A few purple spots cover the rest of her, mainly her haunches, ears, and the entirety of one of her feet. She hums as she continues to inspect herself, her tail pausing its assault now that you’re stroking it. She straightens up and presses and squeezes her chest. …And you blush a bit for even noticing, but it’s definitely bigger. It looks much softer too, with a dewlap-like tuft of fur resting on top of it and accentuating its inviting softness.

The spikes on her collar are completely gone. You could hear the jingle of its now heart-shaped zipper handle as it bounces against her chest. She’s hefting it now, pursing her plump, glossy, pink lips… After a while, she seems to be satisfied.

“I think I look great, hun~” She lilts, looking back down at you with a warm grin. “Thank you so much!” Even her voice is smoother, higher than before, with none of its former gruffness to be found.

“You’re… welcome!” You try your best to sound convinced! From the way her expression dampens, she isn’t fully buying it…

“Is something wrong, hun?” She asks, tilting her head. You aren’t sure what’s worse. The way you feel, or the fact that she figured you out so easily.

“Well—” You hesitate. “You’re…” She tilts her head the other way, ears flopping to the other side. “Lulu, something’s wrong. Sorry- I mean, Lupa—”

“Lulu?” she cuts in. Stunned, you look up at her. That was the first time her voice didn’t sound like it was dipped in sugar. She almost sounded normal…

“Um— Yeah…? It’s like, the nickname I use… You um, you say you don’t like it, but I keep using it ‘cause of the way your tail wags and, well, it’s—"

“Oh, honey.”

She cuts your rambling short. Lulu kneels down in front of you, and her heavy paws rest on your shoulders. With how sweet her new demeanor was up to this point, the hardness of her expression is almost scary.

“I. Fluffin’.

LOVE IT~!”

You watch as she jumps up, throwing her arms toward the ceiling! Her tail wags anew, threatening to lay waste to whatever might be behind her.

“Lulu…~” She repeats affectionately, “It’s like, soooo me~ Why wouldn’t I think it’s, like, totally adorbs?” Then, she gasps! She leans towards you, chest wobbling with the sudden movement. “Can you like, never ever stop calling me that? Pleeease?~”

You simply nod, still at a total loss.

“Yaaaay~!” She cheers! “I’m Lulu now…~ Mnhehehee, waff waff!~ Wrraff wraff wraff—”

“Lulu!” you plead over your friend’s excited barking.

“Wrruff? Ohhh… You like, had a question, right? Hehehe, sorry, sorry!” She giggles, before gently bonking herself with a balled-up paw. “I like, totally forgot…~ I’m like, suuuch an airhead today~” She offers a grin, swaying her hips as her tail swings left and right.

“…Or am I like, a stuffing…head?” She hums as she navigates this new conundrum, only snapped out of it as you put a hand on her thigh.

“Wrff?”

“Lulu, follow me.”

“’Kay!~”

You leave the bathroom with her, and you’re happy to be out of that stuffy, tight room. You lead her toward the couch, sitting down and patting the space next to you. She follows suit, but opts to climb on, laying her head on your lap. Without thinking, your hand rests atop her head, right between those floppy, spotted ears. She lets out a pleased little huff, smiling widely…

“So, Lup— Lulu. How do you feel…?” You opt to start small. You don’t have a plan, but you want to get to the bottom of this in some way.

“Like, I was pretty good before, but now…? Wrrffhfhh,,,~” She lilts, voice airy with scritch-fueled bliss. She rolls onto her back, wiggling and pushing herself further onto you. She’s got her paws folded up on either side of her chest, and she cutely looks up at you.

“Like, can you rub my tummy? Um, please?”

The question catches you off guard. Lupa would never.

Well. That’s a lie. Lupa would, but you recall the ways she would dress the question up.

‘You should like— rub my belly or whatever. If you want.’

‘Hey. Wolves need rubs. So…’

‘Hey, can you… Y’know, uh—'

And that’s if she even asks at all. You remember being the one to take the initiative usually. Judging from the way she reacted to them, and the way she’s asking now… You hum as you start connecting some dots. You know that this is Lupa, at least in some form. You know that she’s acting a lot like her, but in a way that’s… well, different. You aren’t sure how to describe it yet.

“Sure,” you reply, and your hands go right to her soft, round belly. She arches her back as your fingers sift through her dense, white fur… Her tongue slips between her lips, flopping to one side… She closes her eye, splaying her fingers and squirming in your lap.

“So.  Lulu…” You try to get things back on track.

“Wrrffhhhyeahh…?~”

“Do you feel any… different, at all?” You venture. “Does anything feel… I dunno, off?”

“Hhmnhh~I’m not…?” She hums as her tail sweeps the couch. “Whadda shame…~ Are you, liiike, pawsitively sure ‘n stuff…?”

“I’m preeetty sure…” You stop rubbing her, and she lazily opens her eye as she recovers from her bliss. “You’re not usually like this, y’know,” you continue. “You’re usually rude. Maybe even a little mean at times. You call me things like ‘dweeb’ and ‘dork’ and—” You catch yourself, rubbing your face into your sleeve. You sigh. Don’t want to get too emotional. Why are you getting emotional?

“This just feels… weird… This isn’t you.”

“But this is me!” She replies, putting her paws to her chest. “I’m… um, I’m like, sorry I was mean to you before…” She shuffles closer to you, rubbing her cheek against your middle. “I could make it up to you!”

You simply stare down at her.

Why are you even feeling this way? The question briefly crosses your mind. Maybe you’re just tired? That could be part of it, but you get the feeling that that’s not the real reason.

Something feels wrong. It’s hard to ignore the tinge of worry in the back of your head. The feeling that this just, isn’t her. It doesn’t feel real. The way she’s acting doesn’t feel real. You aren’t sure whether you feel like you’re interacting with a saccharine mirror of your girlfriend, or whether to feel that the way she’s acting isn’t sincere in some way. Is it safe to say it feels shallow? Whatever this is, is it temporary? Permanent?

You’re only numbly aware of her voice. You feel her move, relieving your thighs of her weight. Something soft brushes against your head, and your cheek, but you don’t care.

Until she kisses you.

Time resumes as you feel her lips press against yours. Her paws hold you still, keeping you steady. Her thick, stubby thumbs gently rub the sides of your face, drying your cheeks of tears that you didn’t know were there. The dog furthers her advance, and you could feel her bust press against your chest. Her lips feel as good as they look. Soft, supple, comforting as they smush and rub against your own. After a moment, she breaks the kiss, tilting her head as she looks you over. You let her rub your cheeks some more, drying them with her fur. In a voice that would be uncharacteristic of her only a day ago, she asks you a simple question.

“Hey. You okay, Squirt?”

Squirt? Didn’t Lupa…

“Um, I’m sorry for being mean to you…” she continues, fidgeting with her paws. “I’m—I don’t remember it, like, not really, but I’m so, so sorry…” Her voice sounds genuine enough. Genuine, and full of regret.

“Hey, Lulu?” you ask. Her ears perk up.

“Yes?” she replies with a tilt of her head.

“What did you call me just now?”

“Um…” She scratches her head, looking away as she gives it some thought. “It was… um… Hmm… Wrfffh, like, what did I call you…?”

“It was—” you speak up, but she claps her paws.

“Oh, yeah! Squirt! It’s, like, this nickname I had for you…” She looks back at you, curling her finger around a lock of hair. Her tail wags cautiously. “It’s… It’s because you’re like, so small, y’know? You’re small and cute and I thought it like, totally fit you…”

“You… think I’m cute?” you ask, feeling something lighten in your chest. She nods vigorously.

“Like, duh! Of course I think you’re cute! You’re always so niceys to me, and you’re so holdable too…” She looks down, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s like… I dunno, when I look at you… I feel like I wanna protect you ‘n stuff.”

You kinda get it now, and the thought of it is… hard to process. What you do understand is: Under all of that sparkly pink, she’s a lot more like Lupa than you first thought. You look around, remembering something. The pillows that you gave her last night – they’re gone. Did she...? Did they…?

“Hey… Lulu? What happened last night? Do you remember? After I fell asleep?”

“Uhhmmm…. You… You did fall asleep…” She begins, “And then…”

She taps her chin. “I ate a whooole lot. There was, um… Oh! They tasted really good… So sweet and chewy, and…”

You snap your fingers a few times. Focus. She blinks.

“Oh! Right- Um, so I totally ate a bunch, and I started feeling, like… lightheaded? Liike…” She snickers, putting a paw to her cheek… Her other paw brushes against her chest. “Nhehehe, it felt really good… I felt all soft and fuzzy and, like…~ Y’know…~” The more she spoke, the dreamier her voice got, and the thicker her valleygirl accent became. She was a giggling mess by the time her short story ended.

Of course. Of course it was the pillows you gave her. They must’ve done something to her, something that brings you back to your younger days. You were never much of a drinker, at least not when you’re alone. However, you seem to recall the times you sampled the wine when at a party, or a friend’s wedding. …The memories make you cringe. You were such a lightweight.

“So, like… I dunno~” Lupa continues, rubbing her paw against her chest, “It’s like, totally fuzzy after that… Hey, you’re okay, right?” She asks, looking up at you with a big, shining eye. You have to admit, you feel better. Though, there’s one more thing that’s still needling you. Your recent doubts, your insecurities, they…

“Hey. Lulu?”

“Mm’yeah?”

“Do you, um…” You clear your throat, fighting the urge to just swallow the question. Now isn’t the time to be shy about it...

“You like me, right?”

“Like you? I love you, hon. I’ve always loved you.”

Just that is almost enough to make you cry again.

“Alright—” You stop to sniffle. Lulu is already kneeling down and holding your shoulders, ready to help.. Now that you kind of understand what’s happening, you do feel better. Really. If anything, you feel bad for worrying so much. So, you simply give a…

“Yeah,” as you rub your reddening cheek. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Lulu lets out a short gasp, then gives a grin as bright as the sunshine outside.

“Yaaaay~!” She cheers, putting her paws together and tilting her head. Her butt sways as she gleefully wags her tail. “I was like, so totally worried. You looked so scared… You were… You were crying…”

“I was not crying!” you huff! You don’t know why you’re putting up such a show.

“Yes, you were~” she lilts, but her tail soon slows its wagging, sinking to the floor. “But, um, that’s okay. It’s like, okay to cry. I’m like, ree~ally sorry I made you feel that way…”

“Lulu, listen, I…” You’re not quite sure where you’re going with this sentence, so you cut it short to give it more thought. You settle on, “You don’t have to apologize,” as you put your hand on her head. She sticks her tongue out in response - blep! – and her tail curls back up.

“Wrrffmmh… Well… If I like, can’t apologize or whatever, what if I… kissed you instead, huh?~”

And she does just that, draping her pink arms over your shoulders as she lunges in, planting those supple lips wherever they happen to end up! Your cheek seems to be the lucky winner for today, getting a cute, pink lipstick stain as its reward. She doesn’t let up either, slowly wrapping you in a hug and lifting you up.

“Hey, um,,,~ As much as I’d love to make out with you on the couch, there’s like, so much more space on the bed.” She gives you a bit of a sultry look which, combined with her bubbly demeanor and pouty lips, causes you to blush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and a bubbly giggle fills your ears as she princess carries you down the hall.

Lulu gently sets you down on your bed, before crawling on after you. Before you know it, your back’s against the headrest, and she’s looming above you. Her chest slightly wobbles as her whole body gently squirms, rebounding from the momentum of her swaying hips. Her tail sweeps the air behind her, betraying her mischief.~

She descends upon you, pressing her snout to your face once again for another tender kiss, smushing her plushie bosom against your entire upper body. She goes in for kiss after warm, soothing kiss, only stopping once your face is covered in waxy magenta. Desperate to hold onto anything, your hands land on the upper half of her tits, feeling its inches-thick fur and endless softness squish against your palms as she leans in once more.

“Aww, honey…” She speaks quietly, “Looks like I toootally made a mess. Let’s get you cleaned up…~” Her tongue, surprisingly warm to the touch, gently drags across your cheeks, before moving to your nose. She tilts her head, breathing against you, filling your ears with the wet, encompassing sounds of doggy snoofling and gentle licking fill your ears…

She looks you over after a bit. Seemingly satisfied that your face is ‘clean’, she leans in – smushing her tits around your chest once again – and plants one last kiss, right on your now-pink lips.

“Aww!~” She teases, “Now you kinda look like me~” Her paw plants itself on your head a few times. Pat pat pat.~ You groan, both from how corny that was, and how embarrassingly aroused you are… She lifts off of you, rolling over and resting on her butt next to you.

“C’mere, Squirt~” She beckons, patting her middle welcomingly. “I’m like, sooo comfy cozy~”

And you oblige. Following her to her new spot, you move to lay on her, but she puts up a finger and stops you.

“Nuh-uh-uh~”, she says, before pointing down. You follow her finger to where it’s pointing. Past her chest, her flat(ter, which isn’t saying much) tummy, down to… Oh wow.

You look down at the white, fluffy space between her legs, before looking back at her. She tilts her head and gives you a smirk, answering your silent question with a nod.

“Like, do it, cutie~”

You follow your pup’s order, bending down and bringing your face closer to her fuzzy crotch. It’s a bit of an awkward position, and you wonder how you’re going to go about it, but she figures all of that out for you. She lifts her legs up and rests them on your back, pulling your face in until it hits her nullspot with a muffled thwump.~ You squirm and let out a few muffled protests, but you only hear her giggle in response, putting a paw to her lips.

“Sorry hun, can’t hear you~” She lilts, “Hey, since you’re down there, why don’t you like, give me a little nuzzle, huh~?” You’re feeling defiant, though, so you try to pull yourself out first. You don’t get far. You manage to get your face about an inch away from her crotch, but her legs are much stronger than you thought. She only bends them a little, and you find yourself firmly trapped once more. It was hard to see it past her rack, but you did manage to catch a glimpse of her smug, pouty-lipped look… There’s no sharp grin like Lupa had, but Lulu’s warm, yet teasing smile has you blushing all the same. This is so embarrassing… and hot.

You grumble, getting to work… As your nose sifts deeper into her downy fur, you get a whiff of strawberry… Whatever you’re doing, it’s working, as you hear Lulu’s breath hitch- and her thighs squeeze you from either side, keeping you right where you are.~

“Y’know,,, Wrrffh, I, um… I’ve actually got a lotta nicknames for you, but none of them are as good as Lulu is… I’m like, so not a creative puppy...” she softly admits between huffs and wrrffs.

“There’s, like…~ Wrrrwwrr, there’s Sweetums…~ Lovey…~ Cupcake…~ Mmmnnh,,,~” You’re not sure if she’s stifling a moan, or thinking about cupcakes now. “Actually, Cupcake totally fits you…~ Maybe I’ll use that from now on, sound good~?”

It’s not like you can answer, so you nuzzle even deeper. Huffing her strawberry scent while she arches her back. You hope she gets the message.

“Ah~ah! Ah, ah~lright, Cupcake it is…~” You feel her paw rest on your head once more. You let out a tiny moan as she runs her fingers through your hair, using those glittery claws to scritch your scalp. “You’ve like, totally been a good girl, Cupcake, sooo…~”

Lulu lifts her legs and rests them on either side of you, freeing you. She helps you as you climb up onto her, draping her arms over her sides as your head rests against her chest… She nuzzles into your hair, planting a kiss on your head…

You lay there for a bit, but you two eventually muster the will to get on with the rest of the day. You cook, she watches. On more than one occasion, you have to pull her away from the window when she spots a bird or barks at the mailman. Eventually, as the sun goes down, you two find your way back to bed. Her paws rest on your back as you nestle against her oversized chest, and you drift off to sleep…

--

You both stir from your slumber at nearly the same time. Lupa’s rumbling groans fill your ears as she raises herself up.

“Mornin’, dude…” She yawns, before completely removing herself from you. Resting nearby, she takes a moment to rub her eye. “What happened yesterday? I’m drawin’ a complete blank here… Whoa!”

She looks a bit surprised when you cling to her, squeezing her middle as you rub your face against her. You could hear her tail swish-swish-swish against the sheets, and a paw rests securely atop your head.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong? Not that I don’t appreciate the attention, but.. somethin’ up?”

You take a deep breath, just to collect your thoughts. And since your nose is still buried in all that fur, you get a healthy dose of her scent in the process. That fruity smell is gone, replaced with something more… animalistic? You eventually compose yourself enough to look up at her, and you agree to talk about it. After you’ve both cleaned up, that is.

Later, after you’ve had enough time to collect your thoughts, you talk to Lupa about the previous day’s events. At first, it seemed like she didn’t remember even a bit of her other self, so you had to take extra time to explain a few things. As your story continued, she seemed to get better and better at filling in the blanks. It isn’t going as bad as it could’ve been, but – judging by the steadily dawning horror on her face, you figure it could be going better too. Her head is in her paws by the time you finish, and you could feel the heat coming from her. As she sits in silence, you take a moment to drink your coffee.

“So that’s- basically what happened,” you finish. “We ended up falling asleep, and… Well.” You never did know how to end a story. It didn’t help that your audience’s silence was making you feel just the slightest bit awkward. By the time your story drew to its conclusion, Lupa had fewer and fewer things to say. Her reaction is unreadable, hidden behind her paws.

“Lupa?”

“Dude...” Her voice rumbles. Her paws hit the table as she stands. Her lips pull back to reveal her sharp teeth. Plastic as they were, they still looked as threatening as the real thing. Her cheeks are burning red. “What. Is your problem.”

“Wh-What?” your voice cracks. What’s happening?

“Grrwwwhat do you mean, ‘what’?!” She throws her arms out to her sides, raising her voice. “You— You give me some weird pillows, you turn me into a— a bimbo, and you expect me to just take that?! What’s your fuckin’ deal?”

“I didn’t know, Lupa! When has that ever happened before!? How was I supposed to know?” You retort, but she doesn’t let up.

“And so, what, did you even try to help me? Or is this-“ She pauses as she gestures toward herself, “Not good enough for you? Was that dog more to your liking? Maybe I should eat some more o’ those stupid pillows.”

“Lupa,” you plead, “Tell me, what was I supposed to do? I told you, I tried to figure out what happened to you, but… I didn’t know what to do.” You rub your shoulder as you look towards the table. “So I… I decided to just, ride it out with you.”

Was there something that you could’ve done? Maybe you could have tried to give her a normal pillow. Something to balance out the… sweetness that she possessed.

“I’m… Um, sorry.” The apology she offers is curt, but you could see the softness in her expression. She bites her lip, ears folding back. “I just… can’t believe I’d act that way, y’know? It’s… kinda embarrassin’. It’s not me. I’m not…” You make a small hum, looking down at your now-lukewarm coffee. It’s a quiet, noncommittal noise. You bite the inside of your cheek as you consider your next response carefully.

“I think it is you.” But not that carefully. Lupa’s face darkens.

“What.”

“I mean,” you quickly add with a frantic wave of your hand. “Not the bimbo stuff, but… the tenderness. The love. That was you. In that way, you weren’t acting too far from the way you normally do; it was just- amplified, I guess?” She crosses her arms as she listens to you, looking away by the time you’re done.

“I know you love me, but… It, just feels like you’re holding yourself back, Lu.” You stand up, walking around the table to meet her. Unsurprisingly, her tail starts to move as you wrap your arms around her. “Could you please be nicer to me? I’d really appreciate it.”

“I—“ She falters, “I’m plenty nice!”

“You weren’t nice just now.” You frown up at her wry, unconvincing grin, “You were pretty mean, actually.” She grits her teeth.

“…I know… I’m, I’m sorry, hon’. I didn’t… I don’t know why I thought you’d…”

She looks tense, from the way her shoulders hunch up as she rubs her arm. You sigh, and motion for her to kneel down. As she does, her cheeks slide into your waiting palms.

“I just… I worry. Sometimes. A lot,” she says, with a certain shortness of phrase that you’ve become quite familiar with.

“About what?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Lulu, you can talk to me about anything. You know that.” Your voice is as soft as you can make it, as you give her cheeks a bit of a squeeze… She lets out a groaning ‘wrrffh’ as you do that, closing her eye.

“Listen…” She replies, “It’s… it’s a lot. It’s hard. I… I-I-I don’t…”

You sigh. You muse that this might go deeper than she's comfortable with. It doesn’t make you feel any less disappointed though. Gosh, is she shaking?

“I understand. By the way, do you wanna do anything about your ponytail?” You move the conversation along, letting go of her.

“My what?” Lupa reaches up behind her ears, freezing as she feels her hair, and the linen holding it up. “Uh.” She slowly runs a paw down and through her ponytail… “I… Haha, well… Here, Squirt. Let’s put it this way. Are you gonna mention what happened yesterday ever again?”

You squint. You totally see what she’s doing. She’s kicking the can down the road, but with a shake of your head, you accept her terms. You won’t let her off the hook for acting that way that easily, but right now? You’re just happy to see her feeling okay.

“Then no,” she replies, standing back up. “I won’t do anything about it.” For the first time this morning, you smile.

“So you really like it?”

“I never said that,” she blows you off, “It’s, uhh. Y’know, it makes me look...”

Cute.

“…Cool,” she totally lies, putting her paws on her hips. “It makes me look cool. I’ve got that, uh, that biker girl look goin’ on.”

“If you’re sure…” you muse. Her ears turn toward you, and she gives you a look.

“I’m serious! I look good. It’s like, totally me.”

“Admit it. You look cute. You feel cute.” You say. She rolls her eyes.

“Haha, yeah… Maybe. Anyway, you wanna go make breakfast now, or do you wanna keep teasin’ me?”

You could feel your tummy growl.

“Fair enough… C’mon, Lulu.”

“Lulu?”

“Do you not like it?”

“I…” She hesitates, and her expression is hard to read. Eventually, Lupa sighs, and the faintest smile could be seen as she rubs her snout.

“Yeah, Cupcake. Guess I do.”

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

@bitch-be-nimble well, not at the time. (the whole motivation behind this notfic with buggy in disguise was to see if i could write a post-roguetown encounter without making shanks lie when he tells whitebeard he hasn’t seen buggy since roguetown.) but it’s funny you should ask!

this got stupid long. okay, you know what? i’m just gonna post this first chunk of the story, it ends on a fun note and i won’t feel like i need to rush the rest if i’ve shared this much with y’all.

a little over a decade later, as the red force prepared to leave marineford:

it was buggy’s fault. undeniably. if he could’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut—but of course he couldn’t! not after the way shanks just treated him, pulling on his strings like a goddamn puppet master, like he still knew buggy after all these years. not when buggy knew for a fact that shanks wouldn’t recognize him without his nose acting as a big red flag.

(of course he hadn’t forgotten about that day. he never spoke of it, but it was on his mental tally of ways shanks had screwed him over. spooked him into eating the chop-chop fruit, constantly stole his thunder, beat him at cards (by cheating! by cheating at cards better than buggy!), ruined his plans for the future, kissed him one time in a back alley in east blue—and without even asking first!)

and this was the first time he’d been near shanks since that day, so of course it was on his mind. shanks hadn’t changed much since then, except that oh wait, he’d lost a fucking arm somehow! and nobody seemed to be able to agree on how.

buggy couldn’t bear to ask for the story.

he had to know.

he could not ask.

“looking at you, i can’t tell which of the rumors is true,” buggy said. (not asked!) shanks was sitting on a barrel, watching other members of his crew do real work, so buggy figured it was safe to bother him. he glanced up at buggy. “did you go after whitebeard and get punished for it like that crocodile guy, or did you try and see if your armament haki was stronger than a sea king’s teeth?”

shanks huffed out a little laugh. “are those the only rumors these days?”

“the only ones i considered remotely plausible.”

“well, the second one’s not far off,” shanks said.

buggy stared. that couldn’t be the whole story. not for him.

shanks sighed. “look, buggy, i’m sorry, but i don’t have time for this right now. unless you know my ship better than me, and can figure out where we’re going to place a twenty-two foot long corpse—” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “any other day, i would love to sit down with you and catch up. just not today.”

right. buggy flushed. shanks was an emperor. even though he was the youngest and weakest of them, that still required a certain something. leadership. responsibility. just because he still looked like the shanks buggy knew, slacking off, doing as he liked, didn’t actually make him so.

“buggy,” shanks snapped.

“does he have to be lying down?” buggy blurted out. shanks blinked up at him, surprised to hear him try to be helpful. “i mean, i know how normal bodies work, death stiffness wears off eventually, but this is whitebeard. if anyone could stay standing the whole of his death, it’s that guy.”

shanks frowned. “i did consider that, briefly. but if we’re wrong, having to clear that much space in the time it takes him to fall over…”

buggy cringed. “right, that’d be way worse.” he thought about alternatives. this boat of shanks’ was nice, but it did not have that kind of room to spare, not if he was taking shipless pirates aboard (which, of course he was; this was shanks). “what about one of the whitebeard fleet ships? are any of them stable enough to carry him? they’re his crews, i bet they’d be honored to be his last ride.”

shanks nodded. “there are a few still seaworthy.” running his hand through his hair, he muttered, “but like hell i’m getting involved with the intracrew politics there. i’ll ask marco, he’ll know which one to pick to step on the fewest toes.” getting to his feet, shanks visibly swayed for a moment.

“whoa, are you—?”

“i’m—fine,” shanks said, pinching at his brow. he glanced at buggy, who had foolishly reached out to, what, steady him? offer an arm to lean on?? he didn’t know what he’d been thinking. shanks sighed. “it’s not as fun as we’d thought it’d be when we were kids, is it? being the ones in charge.”

“oh, i don’t know,” buggy said, thinking back to that moment, fresh out of impel down, when anything seemed possible with all those guys at his back, cheering him on. “it has its moments.”

shanks considered him for a moment. he smiled. “i guess it does. thanks for the suggestions, buggy. go find a spot to lie down, would you? you look like you could use some beauty sleep.”

and buggy knew he shouldn’t say it. even in the moment he knew it was stupid. but he could never leave well enough alone when shanks took a cheap shot at him, and that day had been on his mind. so he said, “gee, and here i thought i was gorgeous.” and because he really couldn’t help himself, it seemed, when shanks gave him a blank look, he fluttered his eyelashes and added, “with stunning eyes.”

shanks stared.

in the time it took for buggy to blink, he was shoved into the closest wall. he’d tear shanks a new one for halfheartedly trying to give him a concussion, but the hand that’d pressed him shoulder-first into the wall was drifting up, up his neck, cupping his cheek, and buggy found himself as lost for words this time as last.

shanks leaned in. just as he got too close for propriety, he sucked in a breath. he whispered, “that was you?”

buggy gave him a look that said obviously. that said how else would i know about it? that said why? does it matter?

did it matter? he stared up at shanks, and, far from the first time, had no idea what he was thinking.

shanks took a step back and laughed, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “oh god,” he said under his breath, “i really don’t have time for this right now.” eyes shutting, he sighed, and to buggy it looked like he’d aged ten years in an instant. someone out of sight called for their ‘boss,’ and the exhaustion, the previous, unreadable emotion, it all fell away. here was red-haired shanks the emperor, for the first time since he’d cowed the marines into allowing the whitebeard pirates their dead. he stalked off, calling out, “get some sleep, buggy,” over one shoulder, cool as anything.

buggy, feeling distinctly uncool and like he’d never sleep again, scurried away in search of a private corner he could panic in. he found a deck a level or two up that was deserted for the moment—crew quarters, maybe?—and huddled by the railing. had anyone seen that? stupid, stupid—

“did you see that?” someone a deck below said excitedly to their companions. “captain buggy got that emperor mad enough to shove him into a wall, and then without a word forced him to retreat! he’s truly amazing!”

buggy buried his face in his hands and groaned. so stupid.

“hey, quick question,” said someone at buggy’s elbow some time later. “are you trying to get us all killed?” it was mr. 3—er, galdino, or whatever his name was, looking very fearful and annoyed and sweaty. or maybe that was the wax? buggy didn’t know much about him, or how his powers worked.

“how’s that?”

“word among the men,” this was how galdino had been referring to the prisoners who’d followed the two of them out of impel down lately, ‘the men,’ like they were buggy’s soldiers or something, “is that red-haired shanks kabedon'd you, and you turned him down. you realize he’s our only possible ride out of here at this point, right? why antagonize him like that?”

buggy’s face screwed up. like he needed to be reminded of the distance between him and shanks. but also: “the hell’s that word mean?”

“kabedon? it’s when someone shoves you into a wall to intimidate and flirt with you.”

“flirt with—” buggy sputtered, face hot. oh shit, was that really what they were saying? “god no, no way! shanks would never—”

“i’m just reporting what i’ve heard,” galdino said, shoving his glasses up his nose. “oh, no one’s made the flirtatious connection but me, but they all say the two of you got up close and personal, and red-hair’s been red-faced ever since. i just put two and two together.”

“it wasn’t like that,” said buggy, who couldn’t have told galdino what it was like, since he still had no idea himself.

“no?” galdino joined buggy at the railing. they had a good view of the main deck from up here, including a cluster of men having a serious-looking discussion. since the group included shanks and marco the phoenix, it was probably about whitebeard and ace, and where they were taking them and how to do it. shanks looked tired, but it wasn’t obvious like it had been when it was just the two of them. there was something on his face that buggy recognized from the day the news about roger’s arrest broke. a quiet, sad kind of tired.

feeling eyes on him, shanks glanced up. their eyes met for a moment, maybe two. then shanks turned away, face slightly, undeniably redder, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

galdino leaned in close to buggy’s ear. “you sure about that, buggy?”

blushing bright enough to rival his nose, buggy stomped off, steaming, muttering curses against smart-mouthed wax men under his breath.

but no, he wasn’t sure at all.

[the-way-astray]

Keefe headcanons???

when keefe realized he could inflict, he had mixed feelings. on one hand, he always wanted to be able to. on the other, he can only really do it because his empathy's so strong and why is his empathy so strong? because of his mom's genetic manipulations. so like. he struggles with that

he takes longer than cassius to do his hair. look, i know canonically he makes fun of how long cassius takes to do his hair, but you know keefe takes longer then thirty-one minutes, let's be so for real here, anon. canon doesn't exist actually

anyway fitz taught him to do his hair, actually. they were experimenting and keefe liked that style so fitz taught him how to do it

speaking of fitz, they share a room in the elite levels. oh, but the elves don't really do sharing rooms because there's space enough for every- well, guess who doesn't care. that's right. me

keefe learned his . . . dubious use of empathy from his dad. when he was a kid, his dad would always read his emotions and then just casually tell his mom what he was feeling, so keefe learned to do the same thing and doesn't realize it's fucked up

fitz was the first one to call out that behavior but keefe still struggles with it

fitz keeps keefe in line. in my head

fitz is actually the one that won't let keefe touch his hair everyone has it flipped

this post is turning into a keefitz post lemme backtrack

keefe really likes the elvin equivalent of oranges/citrusy fruits and in unraveled if i don't see him intimidatingly eat a lemon like an apple i will simply perish

before the series started, he changed his hair and eye color all the time with elixirs from slurps and burps so he did know dex kinda even before sophie was in the picture

one time he dyed the tips of his hair black so he looked like a porcupine

he's one of those people that buries himself under the comforter even if it's like 150 degrees outside and inside (i think this is canon actually)

(spoilers for crooked kingdom whoopsie) you know that scene where they fall through the ceiling because they spilled really potent acid on the ground? keefe has definitely done that. that's why Nobody Goes To The Fifty-Sixth Floor Of Candleshade. there's just a gaping hole in the floor between the fifty-fifth and fifty-sixth floor

keefe decorated the rim of said hole with tiny chunks of lumenite he secretly shaved off his dad's statue and since his dad never goes to that floor he doesn't know about it

keefe performed the elvin equivalent of a satantic ritual with the hole (he was high on fathomlethes)

his favorite scent is sharpie. unfortunately he's never actually smelled it before. come on, shannon, give the people (me) what they want in unraveled

when he first heard about sophie (not from fitz) he thought she was a rumor

he's ridden verdi before once when grady made him do chores waiting for sophie to come home

he fell off. painfully

he has never baked ever not even once in his entire life. not ever. this is important to me

keefe and fitz are the epitome of the newest, hottest romance trope that's taken the book world by storm: baker x cannot bake for the life of them

keefe was the one that painted that vacker family portrait actually

della told fitz she wanted to commission a portrait of them to celebrate alden's recovery and fitz was like "i know just the guy"

fitz just didn't tell sophie that because he didn't want to ruin the mood during the flashback scene

remember when fitz said he went to the hekses place for a delivery once? actually alden took keefe too and keefe thought it was cool. yes i know canon says keefe wasn't there and thought it was gross but we ignore canon in this headcanon household

he tried to convince fitz to join his hair and eye color changing ways by changing his eye color to teal and hair color to brown but alas fitz refused to join him

oh shit i'm keefitz posting again

he only turned the lab table to silver because it was ugly he wouldn't have done it if it wasn't so crusty-looking why doesn't lady galvin appreciate his efforts no one understands him

he once showered in the elvin equivalent of orange juice

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Problem Solved

Summary: Problems are stacking up in Y/N's life. Does Beau have the solution?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None. Just kissing. Fluff. Stressed!Reader. Beau being an angel.

Word Count: 3,594

A/N: So, I wrote this fluffy piece for my friend @deanswaywardgirl who's been having a rough time and just needed some fluffy Beau to get her through. I'm sorry my dear, this ended up quite a bit longer than I'd planned, and I'm sorry it took me more than a day to get it to you, but I hope it helps. And I hope everyone enjoys the fluffiness.

The beautiful divider below and at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics

"Goddamn-son-of-a-bitch-piece-of-shi-"

"You know," Beau's deep drawl interrupted Y/N's strung together, angry cursing, "I don’t understand how someone so sweet and innocent looking, can manage to curse bluer than a sailor."

Y/N stopped trying to juggle her purse, her car keys, multiple grocery bags and an empty coffee cup long enough to turn to Beau and frown at his amusement.

"I've practiced a lot." She said succinctly. 

She waited a moment and then shook her head, eyebrows raised. "Oh don't worry, I'm good. Definitely don't need any help here, Sheriff." She said, dripping sarcasm.

Beau chuckled at her pouty, out-of-sorts face before reaching to grab what looked like the heaviest paper bag. As he took it from her, however, one of the bags she still held split open and sent a third of her groceries rolling across the parking lot. 

A scream of frustration erupted from her throat before the next round of cursing. 

"Piss-poor-goddam–shoddy-piece-" She rambled as she set her third bag on the ground and began chasing down her runaway canned goods as they rolled down the sloping parking lot. Beau set his bag next to hers and helped her wrangle the cans and a bag full of oranges back into their arms. 

"Looks like your day is going great so far, darlin." Beau teased as he piled the cans onto the back seat. 

A chunk of hair had worked its way loose from Y/N’s ponytail and she blew a puff of air upwards trying to get it out of her face, while Beau took the bags she held out to him, and put them in the back seat as well.

"Yeah, it's been a really peachy morning, beginning with my kitchen sink exploding on me when I tried to make coffee, drenching me in the process. I told my landlord and he said he'd 'try to fix it'." Y/N said with finger quotes.

Beau slammed the back door shut and Y/N slumped against the side of the car. He gave her a sympathetic look as he stood in front of her, the thumb of his right hand hooked over the waistband of his jeans and his left hand shoved in his pocket.

Y/N continued recounting her less than stellar morning. “So I’ve had no coffee yet today because I came with my cup,” she said, lifting the reusable, plastic coffee cup she still held, “planning on getting coffee from the diner before I went grocery shopping, but their stupid machine is broken. So now I’m just carrying around this useless cup cause it doesn’t fit in my purse.”

She let out another huff, and opened the driver’s side door to throw her purse and the cup inside, before slamming it shut a bit harder than necessary.

Beau frowned. “Why didn’t you just throw the cup back in your car before you went into the grocery store?”

Y/N looked puzzled for a moment before she frowned. “I don’t know!” She said, throwing her arms up. “Because I’m an idiot and I’m operating without coffee!”

Beau chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Anything perishable in your groceries? Something that won't keep for an hour or so?" 

Y/N shook her head, puzzled. "No, just pantry stuff and fruit."

"Then come with me." He said and pulled her along with him, still tucked into his side. He led them over to his big red truck and helped her climb up into the cab.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, slightly exasperated. 

"To the place that serves the best coffee in town." He answered, as he closed the door.

***

Y/N took a long sip of coffee and sighed contentedly. It may not have actually been the best coffee in town, but it was dark, and rich, and creamy and she could practically feel the caffeine flowing through her veins. 

She called back through the door of Beau’s little silver trailer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help make lunch?” She asked because it was the polite thing to do, and she felt a bit guilty just sitting and relaxing while Beau did all the work. But she was incredibly relieved when he declined.

“No way, sweetheart. First of all, there’s no room for two people in this quote/unquote kitchen. And second, you’ve earned the right to relax. I’ll be done in a minute.”

Y/N sighed again and took another big gulp of coffee. This one burnt the roof of her mouth a bit, but she still didn’t care. After the morning she had, this was paradise. She’d only been to Beau’s one other time, and she just waited in the car while he ran in to grab something. She’d never seen the inside, or got to experience the beautiful view from his front porch.

She looked around now and took it all in. Montana sure was beautiful. It was world’s away from her old life in Manhattan, where you could barely see the sky, never mind mountains and forest. She’d left New York only three months ago, but every day she was here, her old life fell further and further into mere memory. 

She’d spent the last ten years of her life going non-stop. Columbia - four years for her undergrad then another four at medical school. Eight years excelling at something she didn’t want to do. 

So - two years into her residency she’d made the incredibly impulsive decision to leave it all behind. The move shocked and horrified her parents.

It was practically a family tradition to go to Columbia and become a doctor. Her grandfather, her father, her aunt, and a bevy of cousins had all attended Columbia to become doctors and then gone on to make a fortune in ritzy private practices. 

Only one cousin that she knew of had bucked the system a bit, deciding to practice in a free clinic in Queens rather than open another high priced office that catered to the rich people of New York, of which there were many.

That cousin didn’t get invited to many family functions.

But if she was ostracized for serving underprivileged people, she was still worlds above where Y/N found herself now. Living states away in Montana and training in veterinary medicine. 

She’d always been interested in animal care. But when, at fourteen years old, she told her mother and father that she wanted to be a veterinarian,  they had just stared at her like she’d grown a second head. She tried to explain to them how much she loved animals, and the idea of being able to work with them everyday, help them and heal them appealed to her immensely. She tried to explain that she’d still be using her aptitude for science, she’d just be applying it in a field that excited her.

But the answer had been a resounding no, and she’d been pushed further down the road towards Columbia. She’d reluctantly followed that path. She thought her parents probably knew best, and she didn’t bring it up to them again. 

Until three months ago when she’d informed them that she’d left her residency program and enrolled herself for the fall semester at the University of Montana, in the Veterinary Medicine program. 

Her parents had absolutely refused to listen to anything she said on the matter. They kept insisting that she was just feeling burnt out. They suggested that she take a few weeks off, and recuperate. She tried to explain that she wasn’t burnt out, she was fed up; fed up of working almost eighty hours a week doing something she didn’t want to do. 

When reasoning hadn’t worked with Y/N, her parents resorted to threats. They promised her that they were not about to pay for her to go to school in Helena, and that if she threw away all the years they’d put into her education then she needn’t bother coming home for the holidays. Y/N had agreed to those terms, moved out of her tiny studio apartment, loaded up her little Toyota hatchback, and driven for three days, staying in crappy little motels along the way, before she reached Helena. 

She’d used her savings to pay for her first semester of school, and six months worth of rent. She was on month three and she was starting to panic slightly about where money was going to come from. She needed a job, but it had to work around her school schedule, and she had no work history other than a hospital residency program that she’d dropped out of. 

Now she had a sink that didn’t work, and a landlord who didn’t seem to be a handyman. And when she’d started her car that morning, she heard a distinctive squeal that meant she’d probably have to take it in sooner than later. 

She sighed and took another gulp of coffee. At least one thing had improved in her day. As the thought entered her mind, Beau walked out of his trailer with a stack of chicken salad sandwiches and a big bowl of salad. 

Okay, two things had improved in her day. 

“Oh my god, Beau.” She exclaimed. “This is way too much! You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” 

He scoffed dismissively. “N’ah, wasn’t any trouble. I had the chicken salad made up already, so all I did was throw vegetables in a bowl.”

Y/N shook her head. Beau had been a godsend since she moved to Helena. She met him on only her second day in town. She'd been given a speeding ticket and had gone into the sheriff’s department to pay it. She’d been in a particularly rotten mood that day as well, since she certainly didn’t have almost eighty dollars to throw away on a ticket. For going barely ten miles over the speed limit. 

She must have looked desperate or maybe at the end of her rope, because Beau had come over to the deputy taking her payment, and taken over the transaction. She’d been shocked out of her mood by the ridiculously beautiful man behind the counter. He was long and broad, with dazzling green eyes, and dark blonde hair she immediately wanted to run her fingers through. He spoke, and his deep, Texas honey voice sent a shiver up her spine, making her whole body tingle.

She was so completely and instantly enamored of him that, at first, she missed the fact that he was dismissing her fees. When it finally sank in through her moony brain that he was being kind and helping her out, her heart fluttered even faster. 

He’d smiled his killer smile at her. “It was only ten miles over the limit. And you’re obviously new in town.” He said handing back her New York state license. “Just watch your speed next time.”

Y/N nodded happily. “Yes, sir. I will be very careful in the future.”

“Beau.”

“Sorry?” She asked. 

He smiled again and practically knocked her off her feet. “It’s Beau, not sir.”

They’d become fast friends, even though Y/N’s heart raced like crazy when he was around, and as far as she could tell, he had no feelings for her like that whatsoever. But he was the only person she really knew in town besides her crappy landlord, so she relished her time with him.

He’d helped her adjust to Helena with stories of his own experiences of being new in town. They watched movies together at her place (her one bedroom apartment still being bigger than Beau's trailer) and they grabbed supper three or four evenings a week. Beau always insisted on paying for her because he knew she was a poor, struggling, soon-to-be student. He constantly refused to let her grab the check. So she’d taken to slipping twenty dollar bills into his jacket pocket, but somehow he always found them and slipped them back into hers.

He texted her pretty much every day to check in and see how she was. And even if she’d been having a morning similar to today’s, his name popping up on her phone always made her smile.

She knew that at some point the little (or large) crush she had on him was going to cause trouble because it wasn’t diminishing. Every day she knew him, he carved his way a little deeper into her heart. She couldn’t help it. He was so kind, so warm. He was such an amazing dad, and she envied the relationship he and Emily had, having never had anything like it with her own father. 

He was like sunshine, a burst of serotonin in cowboy packaging. She knew she was in trouble there.

Beau set down the plate of sandwiches on the table between their chairs and then went in to grab bowls and forks for their salad. When they were both served, they sat munching the yummy food without conversation, just laughing and enjoying the antics of a couple of squirrels arguing over winter hiding places. 

The food, the coffee, and most of all, the man beside her, had gone a long way to making up for her rotten morning. 

When they’d finished eating though, Beau reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Okay, darlin’, lay it on me. It’s not just coffee throwing you off your game this morning. What’s goin’ on?”

Y/N relished the warmth of his big hand covering hers, and her heart raced fast again as he ran his calloused thumb over her knuckles. 

She shrugged in answer. But he pushed on.

“Your sink exploded. And you don’t think your landlord will fix it?”

“Well, he hasn’t fixed my dripping shower, or my broken bedroom window…so I don’t hold out a lot of hope, no.” Y/N said defeatedly. 

Beau nodded. “What else?” 

She stayed quiet at first; she didn’t want to dump all of her problems on him. She didn’t want to be a burden to the only friend she had. But the soft, caring look in his mossy green eyes, told her it was safe to vent. 

Her voice started off quiet, but grew louder as she talked about all that was bothering her. 

“I have no job, my savings are rapidly running out, I start school in a week, and I’m incredibly nervous that I gave up a whole 'life plan' to come do this. What if I suck at it? What if all the animals hate me? What if my parents were right this whole time and I really have just thrown my life away?”

She was quiet for a moment more before ducking her head and finishing in a small voice. “Oh, and my car is squeaking.”

After a minute, Beau let go of her hand to lift her chin with his fingers so she was looking at him again. “Do you want me to try and problem solve, or are you just venting?”

Y/N let out a watery chuckle, tears threatening and making her eyes glassy. “Oh Beau, if you have any solutions, I’m all ears.”

He smiled wide and her belly flip flopped. “K, so I’ll be by tomorrow, it’s my day off. I’ll fix your sink and tub, no problem. I owned a fixer upper in Dallas, learned lots. And I’ll take a look at your bedroom window and see what I can do.”

Y/N was shaking her head. “Beau, that’s…you don’t have to do that. It’s your day off, you must have better things to do.”

But he just shook his head. “Shh, I’m problem solving.”

Y/N laughed lightly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know crap about cars, but I am friends with Sonny at Lincoln Motors, and he owes me a favor, so he’ll take care of it, and you can just pay for parts.”

Y/N was staring at him, her eyes wide. “Beau.” 

But he just kept going. “You should have told me before that you were looking for work. I thought you weren’t planning on working while you’re going to school, otherwise I would have mentioned it sooner. But we have a part time position available at the station that would be perfect for you. We need weekend care for the four dogs in the canine unit. You’d have to walk 'em, and feed 'em, exercise 'em a bit. Pays pretty decent, but we’re having a hard time filling the position cause it’s only weekends. You’d have to take a course about how to care for 'em, but it’s just one afternoon.” He smiled at her. “I promise to give you a good character reference.”

Y/N just shook her head in amazement. “What…what are you my fairy godfather? You just solved all my problems.” She was stunned. These were issues she’d been worried about and struggling with for quite a while, certainly the issues with her broken apartment and no job. She opened her mouth to him one time, and he just swooped in and saved her.

The thought made her shake her head again, refuting her earlier question. “No, you’re not my fairy godfather.” She beamed at him, but lowered her gaze shyly. “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Beau got up from his seat and kneeled in front of her, taking hold of her hand again. “No, not a knight, a friend. And Y/N as your friend, I can tell you without hesitation, that you’re gonna do great in school. You’re incredibly smart, and you have a beautiful soul. Animals will love you. You're gonna succeed, I promise you that."

Y/N eyes shone brightly with unshed tears and she impulsively threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close, tight against him. 

She felt the hard wall of his chest pressed warm and solid against her and tried not to moan. She didn't mean to, but without thinking, she buried her fingers in his hair, letting the silky strands slide through her fingers. His beard felt surprisingly soft as their cheeks pressed together. His big hands started caressing her back softly, massaging slightly and Y/N began to notice the way his heart beat fast under his ribs and his breathing  was a bit unsteady. 

Finally, he pulled back from her to catch her eye, and Y/N could see the desire spark in his gaze just seconds before he settled his lips lightly on hers.

The kiss was not demanding. It was soft and curious, tasting. He trailed his mouth over hers, lips gliding smoothly, exerting the slightest pressure. They were hot against hers though, and the silky feel of them made her fingers tighten in his hair. He let out a small hum of satisfaction and then pressed his tongue to her lips.

She sighed her mouth open and was quickly drunk on the taste of him. He was all spice and warmth; he tasted like comfort. Her stomach was full of butterflies that danced low in her belly, and she delighted in the way he moved  his hand to grip the back of her neck and pressed her closer to him, groaning into her mouth and causing her core muscles to clench tightly. 

Beyond her physical response to the way he kissed her though and beyond her pounding excitement for more, her heart was telling her this was where she belonged; in this man’s arms, with no air between them.

When Beau finally pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers, and chuckled softly. “God, I’ve been dreaming of doing that for months - since I first saw you on the other side of that counter." He grinned. "All frazzled and annoyed, cursing under your breath.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she pulled away to look at him. “What do you mean? I’ve been wanting you to kiss me since you smiled at me across that same counter.” She shook her head. “You weren’t interested.”

Beau snorted. “Are you kidding me? You haven’t noticed how I’ve been following you around like a puppy dog? You haven’t seen the way I’ve had to stop myself so many times from pushing you up against something hard and kissing you senseless? I thought you knew and simply weren't interested."

Pleasant images of being manhandled by Beau popped into Y/N's mind and she had to take a moment before she could shake her head at their stupidity, a grin wreathing her face. “And I thought you knew I was drooling over you constantly. I thought I was pretty obvious.”

Beau shook his head, clearly just as amazed. “I had no idea.”

His million dollar smile shone brightly and he sipped at her lips again. He spoke softly against them.

"So, has your day gotten any better?"

Y/N breathed out a laugh and ran her palms over his cheeks, loving the satiny feel of his beard beneath her fingers.

"A little bit." She answered with a teasing smile. "I have just one or two more problems you could help me with though."

"Really? Like what, darlin'?" Beau asked, his voice deep and delicious.

She bit her lip, and let her forefinger slide across his mouth. 

"I'll tell you all about them tomorrow, when you come to my bedroom…to, you know, fix my window."

Beau chuckled a little dirty. "Well, I do love to be helpful."

"Then help a girl out would ya?" Y/N said, pulling his soft yielding lips back to hers with a smile.

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