#i found cute orange fabric though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The “We are the 99%” Tumblr blog became the slogan for the Occupy Wall Street movement.

#i found cute orange fabric though

littlehypnone · 7 days

Note

could you do kitty dew, puppy mountain and otter rain sleepy cuddles maybe? just sleepy little guys?

THIS IS THE CUTEST!!! (I made them shapeshifters here so the three of them are literally little fluffy guys heheh)

also obligatory @sphylor tag for not only terrarium boys but little fluffy and cuddly terrarium boys ehehehe :3

Swiss has a lot on his hands.

He had chores planned for the day, something with Copia, but he never made it. In the morning he couldn’t find one of his hoodies and went to Dewdrop, assuming it was him who stole it. It wouldn't be surprising in the slightest, but what he found instead of the 5’7 fire ghoul was a small orange kitten curled up in a little ball on, indeed, his hoodie. The multi ghoul sighed and picked him up with one hand still sleeping—he’s so tiny he fits in his grasp perfectly.

Swiss wanted to take him to Rain’s room, knowing Dewdrop preferred the water ghoul to be the one caring for him like this, but there waited for them another surprise. In Rain’s bed was Rain, sure but he was in his otter form. A big otter at least. He started squeaking and wiggling happily at Swiss' presence and the multi ghoul had no choice but to pick him up with his other hand and take both of the little creatures to yet someone else.

Rain isn’t small enough to fit in his hand, though, and his wiggling definitely didn’t help, so he ended up hanging over Swiss’ shoulder and squeaking as the multi ghoul walked to another door. At that point he was definitely late for his chores already.

Mountain was the one Swiss was hoping would take care of Rain and Dewdrop, but it didn’t work either. He was already quite amused by the situation, and getting jumped by a cute little bernese mountain dog puppy made him burst out into a full body laugh and nearly drop Rain in the process.

Swiss figured he was getting no chores done today and so he let Copia know with a quick text before bending down to somehow grab Mountain, too, and doing his best to carry all three of them to the common room. He managed—even without waking Dewdrop up—and now the kitten and the otter are napping together on the couch while Swiss tries to keep Mountain from eating the edge of said couch.

"Mount, buddy, please," Swiss pleads, even though he's still very amused by the whole ordeal, and tries to pry the puppy away from the couch. His fangs catch on the damaged fabric, though, and Swiss would absolutely hate himself for hurting him by pulling forcefully. "Okay, puppy, here. Here!" the multi ghoul tutts at him and waves his fingers in front of his fluffy little face.

It succeeds in distracting Mountain from the couch and he lets out a happy little chuff, but Swiss regrets his methods as his exceptionally sharp puppy teeth latch onto his hand. "Ow!"

He sighs and shakes his head, still smiling through it all, and returns to the couch. Both Dewdrop and Rain respectfully chirp and squeak at the disturbance, but once Swiss settles with Mountain tucked under his arm, the otter and the kitten deem the multi ghoul's chest a more comfortable nap spot.

Dewdrop meowing crawls onto the middle of his chest first, and flops onto his side before immediately kicking up a loud purr. Rain squeaks some more as he follows his best friend and cuddles up to his back, right under Swiss' chin.

Faced with cuddles, all the excess energy Mountain had leaves him and he snuggles happily into Swiss' arm. The multi ghoul sighs and closes his own eyes, hoping that later it will be him who wakes up first; before any havoc that might go down with the three menaces well rested and ready for more mischief.

A few hours later—why did it take so long for someone to get to the commons?—Cumulus and Phantom take in the image that the four of them create on the couch.

Swiss is sprawled out flat on his back and snoring loudly, Mountain is drooling against his arm, Dewdrop is purring up a storm, and Rain is squeaking and huffing into his fur as they all sleep.

#hypno writes #little ghouls #pet regression #kitty dewdrop #puppy mountain #otter rain #cg swiss

46 notes · View notes

anyotherwriter · 2 years

Text

Ask Me Again

For a request from @bringinsexybackk69 -- “Before the ZA, Y/N was a tattoo artist before the ZA and she met Daryl because she did the artwork on his back (the angel and demon). She met him through Merle (after publicly turning him down in front of a bunch of his army buddies) and after a couple years her and Daryl got married. Fast forward to the ZA, maybe one kids at the prison from WoodBury asks how they met while Y/N is giving the kids “temp” tattoos with some washable markers / letting the kids fill in her tattoos with the colored markers she found on a run.”

I hope you like it, I think it’s pretty cute!

okay, love you, bye.

************************

You made sure to stay as still as you could, sitting well the way you had many times before. It wasn’t a foreign feeling to have someone’s hands on you, or to be completely okay with it while filling your arms and your legs with painful, colorful artwork. You couldn’t begin to recount the number of hours you’d spent with needles and ink wells and the smell of disinfectant and latex mingling in the air, but you couldn’t deny that it was one of the things you missed the most. There was a heavy feeling of longing in your chest for that good pain that left behind nothing but beauty. Oftentimes you wished you were smart enough to engineer another machine, to fabricate that electric buzz that would typically over take the music in the shop you used to work at.

For now, the small hand wrapped around your bicep and the other holding a blue marker and coloring in the blank spaces would have to do.

"I wish I had more colors." The boy, around ten or eleven, said to you as he focused heavily on the way the felt of the marker tip glided across your skin, filling in the outline of the rose you had just gotten before everything went to hell.

"I always keep an eye out for more when I'm out there." You said with a small smile, remembering the success you felt when you found an orange marker that had rolled under a metal shelf in an old mechanic shop, only to uncap it and find it bone dry and crusted. "Maybe I'll ask Daryl to keep an eye out, too."

It was a simple suggestion, one you put out into the world without thinking it was odd or an intimidating thing to do. You were aware that most people at this prison, especially the folks that found refuge here from Woodbury, felt that Daryl wasn't the one to do personal favors. They were off put by the sneer he wore on his face most times, let alone the actions he displayed when he was angry in the snap of a finger. Recently, though, he seemed to level out. He was calmer, albeit more flighty and itching to leave the prison gates whenever people would attempt to speak to him- he was still trying.

"How did you meet Daryl?" The boy said, his voice quieter than before. It was a question that you'd been asked before, and a question you often didn't answer. Not because you didn't want to talk about it; you mostly wanted to respect Daryl in that he had no interest in telling anyone about himself and his life and you. Back at the Quarry, he was upset that you offered up as much as you did to the group, telling Shane and Lori that Daryl knew how to hunt, that you wanted to join the larger group for protection in numbers, that you and Daryl were married.

None of it was ever a secret, not by any means. Daryl didn't care if everyone knew he could hunt and hold his own, he didn't care about wanting safety in numbers- because that was a good call. What he cared about was the odd looks that you received when attaching yourself to him in such an intimate title. You were his wife, and in a world that would find itself full of lawless thieves and murderers, you were now his weakness and a target by association.

His fears in this new, broken world were similar to his fears of the past world. The way he voiced them to you in the tent the following evening after the group had settled, you could hear the apprehension and the fear in his voice he wouldn't admit was there. Since then, you promised him you wouldn't say anything he wouldn't.

It wasn't until recently, when Rick opened the gates to the people of Woodbury, that Daryl introduced you to someone new as his wife, something he had only done a handful of times since you'd gotten married. It was a sign that he was comfortable and felt that you were safe.

But he hadn't always been so sure.

"How we met?" you let out a deep exhale, making sure not to jostle your arm as the boy switched from the blue marker to the green. "You trying to get that one out of me again?"

"Daryl told me that I should ask you one more time." The boy smiled as he followed the lines of the empty leaves around the now blue rose. You would've thought that he was lying, but when you looked across the yard to where Daryl was propped up onto a table, he was already looking at you with a humored smile of his own.

When you met Merle and his Army buddies, you knew that he wouldn't make it too far. He was loud and boisterous to a fault. He wanted to fight anything that moved and believed that the world owed him something extraordinary. His buddies were no different. They would rock up into the tattoo shop you started to apprentice at, cause a bunch of trouble, and get high before sitting for the most cliché flash designs off the walls. You were able to fly under the radar and miss detection from them a few times, but one night, one of his buddies had seen a small flash of you as you tried to make a beeline to the bathroom for some reprieve from the noise.

"Hey, you!" Was all the guy had said, followed by the heavy footfalls of his boots. You hoped that maybe you could get away from him, make him believe it was just a hallucination from the high. But you weren't quick enough and his large hand locked around your elbow and pulled you back. "Where've they been hidin' you?"

"Leave her alone!" The familiar timber of your mentor's voice barked through the shop, followed by warnings of kicking their whole damn crew out if he had to. "She ain't doin' no business for you."

The hand didn't let go of you as fast as you would've liked and you weren't surprised by the red marks his fingers had left behind, either.

"Ladies like her ain't gonna put out for someone with such an ugly mug like you!" Merle yelled then, arrogance lacing his voice as he winked at you. "She's lookin' for a real man."

And you were convinced after that evening that there were no real men worth searching for around this town. You thought maybe this place would be different than where you grew up, maybe more friendly and accepting and welcoming; it ended up being more of a lateral move, not an upgrade. You'd sit in the back corner at a desk with chipping veneer and practice on the pig skins that your mentor bought from a butcher down the street for a reduced fee and mind your business. You'd work on your line work and your shading, all the while keeping an eye on every mouthy man that walked in the front door wanting to know what they could get for a single hundred dollar bill.

It wasn't until late one evening that Merle had come strolling back into the shop, nearly snuck in with an unusual quietness to him, minutes before you were meant to head out for the night. You didn't notice he was inside until he clapped his hand on the back of a new guy's shoulder, the sound resonating through the shop.

You hadn't seen him before. You were well-versed in the gang Merle usually toted around and the way their individual footsteps sounded, threatening and heavy as they dragged under them uneasily. But this guy… you didn't hear him at all, even as you watched him walk around hesitantly. His hair was a messy buzzcut of chestnut and his shirt was a ratty navy blue thing peppered with oil stains. When your mentor asked him if he was there for some ink, too, he declined.

There was a familiarity with Merle in the way he threw a wave your way, knowing you were tucked away in your corner behind a large, fake monstera plant you brought in to liven up the place a bit, and the disgusted glare you always gifted him in return. It was a routine now and you knew it was a game for him.

"Evenin', sweet cheeks!" He called to you, earning another glare. "How 'bout you hook my brother up with some free ink, huh?" He suggested loudly, and then laughed. Normally you would've told Merle to shove it, and that no one he's associated with gets anything for free, but you were stuck on the fact that this new guy was his brother. A brother that seemed to be quiet and reserved and anxious in the way he kept chewing at the skin of his thumb and glancing towards the front door. When Merle mentioned a tattoo for him, his head whipped up in your direction like he hadn't noticed you there sooner and his eyes widened slightly.

You steeled yourself, offered a tight smile to him, and turned back to Merle.

"Fuck off, Merle." You said before grabbing your bag off the floor and collecting a few loose drawings you had scattered on your desk. "I'd rather eat rusty screws."

And you made your way out the front door, the bell above it signaling your departure and you didn't mean to, but you looked back in through the window just in time to see the stranger sitting back on the couch, still chewing at his thumb, with the ghost of a humored smile tugging at his lips.

And then Merle disappeared for a while, weeks, and it seemed as if the town calmed down a bit. It felt a little safer to walk to your car in the evenings and you didn't worry about running into him and his crew at the gas station. You had gotten comfortable enough in the quiet hum to go out grocery shopping in the evening. It was late November and there was no traffic and you enjoyed the empty aisles as you got to take your time looking for unbruised apples. It was a different story when you left the safety of the bright lights of the store and started to make your way to your car. There was a familiar whistle from the dark part of the sidewalk, where a cloud of smoke clouded the group in a threatening aura. Merle was quick to step towards you as you continued to walk towards your car. You held your finger over the panic button on your keys, but you knew that he would just find it funny and probably press on further.

“Leave me alone.” You demanded, hoping that he would just let you load your bags into your car and leave you be. But things were never that simple.

“Now, now,” he started as he rested his hand on the frame of the door just beside you. “Ya didn’ miss me?”

“No. Now leave me alone.” You tried to put the next bag from your shopping cart into your car when Merle reached into it and plucked out a bag of chips and ripped it open. He made a show of eating one loudly, close to your face, with a devious smirk on his face.

“Honey, I think…” He moved a bit closer to you, now, “that you and I could be somethin’ special.”

A laugh rose up your chest and you couldn’t stop it before it came out. It was a sound that echoed through the empty parking lot and Merle’s face dropped. His buddies behind him snickered as they tried not to laugh at their friend too much. They’d watch Merle try this dance with almost every other woman in town, most times with the same outcome, but it never humbled him quite enough.

He simply raised his eyebrows at you as you snatched the bag out of his hands, making sure to let your nails scrape painfully along the top of his hand.

“Merle!” Someone yelled from behind them. This time you could hear his foot fall. They smacked against the ground in loud, angry thumps against the pavement as they approached you. You didn’t dare take your eyes from Merle’s, who found the new voice a nuisance based on the way he rolled his eyes. It wasn’t until the flash of chestnut hair came into your peripheral that you even dared a look away from Merle.

“Daryl, c’mon, man!” Merle threw his hands up in the air in defeat as his brother stepped in between the two of you. He smelled like cigarettes and leather and dirt after a heavy rain.

“Leave’er the fuck alone.” He said around the half-burnt cigarette that hung from his lips. He didn’t have to physically push Merle away from him, even if it looked like he were about to, when Merle began to walk away with a few mumbles of how he was never allowed to have any fun lately, not with Daryl around.

When the group had made it far enough away from them that Daryl felt comfortable turning his back to them, he did so hesitantly, and made a show of putting a great distance between the two of you. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with him standing so close to you, he never wanted anyone to compare him to Merle in any way. You noticed the way he noticed the cigarette smoke swirling around his face when he exhaled and he tried to quickly put it out without you noticing.

He didn’t say anything to you, not while you quickly put the rest of your things into your back seat and slammed the door shut, not when he watched you carefully as you opted to leave your cart in the cart return about eight spaces over instead of taking it back to the front of the store like you normally did. He didn’t say a word to you until you closed your door and a small squeal followed the start up of your car. You jumped when his knuckles tapped lightly on the window.

“I can fix that belt for’ya.” He said cautiously through the inch opening you allowed him. He wasn’t hovering and he wasn’t getting too close to the window. He actually took another step back. You didn’t say anything to him in response, just shook your head, and he took the ‘no’ for what it was and stepped back far enough to let you pull away quickly.

And you thought about that for days. You thought about the way he stepped in for you, to help you, and wondered more than anything why he would.

The shop stayed quiet for a while too. You still felt your shoulders tense in the evenings, wondering if the bell above the door was that whole crew wandering in to cause trouble. You tried not to look up whenever you heard it, because if it were them, eye contact was a sure fire way for them to harass you until you left. It took another couple weeks before your peace was disturbed again.

“Mind if I talk to’er?” You barely heard him ask over the sound of the headphone in your left ear. You looked up slowly, noticing Daryl, alone, by the front door with his hands twisted into each other and barely stepping too far in. Your brow crinkled in confusion at him asking permission to talk to…you? It didn’t make sense. When he got the go ahead, he slowly approached you in your corner, where you took very well to bringing in another few large plants to build yourself a wall away from everyone else. He stopped a couple feet short and you paused your music.

And then there was a long, long pause of silence as he tried to figure out what he was going to say, or why he even stopped in to see you in the first place. He couldn’t help but sweep his eyes over the papers on your desk, the drawings scattered around as if the second you finished one, you began another. There was a whole mess of flowers and animals but Daryl’s eye caught on one that was mostly covered and forgotten. He could only see a wing peeking out, and he reached out slowly to pull it out. As much as you wanted to snatch the paper back from him, you let him stare at it for a while before speaking.

“What? You came for a tattoo?” You asked with humor. He frowned deeply at your question, knowing that the answer was no. He came by to apologize for Merle and the way he treated you that night, and for the way he probably treated you before that, and for Merle’s general existence. Daryl knew that his brother was… a lot to deal with, and he didn’t wish it on anyone. The answer was no, he didn’t come for a tattoo, he didn’t need one. Didn’t have the money for one.

“Sure.”

The surprised look on your face had Daryl almost smiling. Almost. But he wanted to keep his face neutral, he didn’t want you to look at him the way you looked at Merle, or his friends. You looked at them with an apprehensive fear, a fear that they were unpredictable and could cause you harm if you weren’t careful.

Daryl didn’t know you, hadn’t known of you until Merle dragged him into the shop that evening after he decided to get high and Daryl felt the need to make sure he didn’t get himself in any trouble, which they both had found later in the evening in the blinding red and blue lights and blood running from Daryl’s nose and knuckles. He thought you were tough with the way that you told Merle to fuck off without hesitation, then he thought you a fool for walking out in the night by yourself. He knew the people that lurked under the dark awnings of shuttered up businesses, he knew them well, and the worry he sat with far surpassed the annoyance he felt with Merle as he started to get messy in his stupor. He felt the same kind of worry for you when he noticed you walking out of that grocery store and the way they had all made a beeline towards you. He knew they were stupid and reckless and had little care for anyone else’s comfort. Daryl wanted to believe that Merle wasn’t going to hurt you, or push you too far, but he also knew his brother and decided that his rightful place was between you and Merle, making sure that Merle knew he had no place there at all.

Daryl got caught up in the uneasiness of your movements after that, in the way your keys shook a little harder as you tried to cram them into your ignition, the way you jumped sharply when his own knuckles gently tapped on your window. He didn’t know what he expected, he just knew that he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way you reacted to him, like he scared you, too. And he thought about it the rest of the night, and the next night, and the night after that. He thought about it enough that he found himself standing on the corner a block south and across the street from the tattoo shop. He’d smoke through a half pack of cigarettes and keep an eye out for anyone shady walking in the front door.

Daryl knew you weren’t alone inside, he knew that most people in town wouldn’t even dare mess with your mentor, on account of his past decisions to physically throw patrons out the front door into the street for disrespecting his staff. But Daryl still felt the need to watch the door for you. To make sure you didn’t feel like you had no safety. And on this night, he decided to walk in.

“Really?” You asked him, your voice a little higher than normal. You’d gotten to tattoo a few people by now, finding them to be understanding with you being new to tattooing, agreeable with the lower pricing, and friendlier than you’d expected. But this one almost felt like a trap, like if you let him sit for one, then you’d owe him something in return.

“Ya don’ have’ta if ya don’ wanna.” He mumbled, now unsure if he should’ve even come in tonight. How would you have possibly known that he came in as a friendly, as one of the few people in town that even knew your name.

But you found yourself swiping the papers across your desk into a messy stack off to the side and opening a few drawers while pulling out supplies. He felt his fingers grip the paper he still held a little harder at the sight of the packaged needles being laid out.

He knew it was silly to be worried about the pain of the needles since pain was all he really knew lately.

Daryl let you tug the paper out of his hands and prepare a stencil anyway.

“I ain’t got money, not enough a’least.” He said quietly. He didn’t want to wait until you were finished to remember that reaching into his pocket would only result in a few crumpled ones and fives that he’d snuck out of vehicles that he’d worked on at the shop in desperation because he was hungry. “I jus’ came to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” You asked, now very confused. Daryl hadn’t done anything worth apologizing for, the only time he was close enough to warrant words before now he was helping you. If anything, you should’ve thanked him for helping you get out of the parking lot that night.

“Merle.”

He said it simply, and bashfully, knowing that he always felt the need to follow in his brother’s messy trail of destruction and clean up after him. He hadn’t expected you to laugh, though. You laughed as you slid on your black gloves, and laughed again as you took a step towards him that he hadn’t anticipated. He wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared for you to come so close, and he took a big step back. It silenced your laughter quickly and you held your hands up slowly.

“Where do you want it?” You asked him in a quiet voice, afraid that if you spoke any louder, he’d turn around and high-tail it out of there. The design seemed larger as a stencil than it did on the paper and he knew where he would put it, but he also knew that it would be more revealing to you than he wanted to be. But he mumbled about his right shoulder to you and you waited patiently, for almost two minutes, before he got brave enough to start pulling his shirt over his head. He was skinny, and his shoulders boasted deep tan lines from his time in the sun. You could see that he was cautious when dropping his arms fully to his side, and the amount of hesitation he held in turning around for you.

Daryl hadn’t let anyone see him like this, didn’t plan to let anyone see him like this, but under the pink glow of a neon heart light you kept lit in your corner, and the way the light sparkled off the apples of your cheeks, he turned his back to you. And he didn’t miss the way you deeply exhaled at this sight of his scars; he expected it.

What he didn’t expect was how you walked him through everywhere you planned to touch him, and the moment just before you did. The pressure of the stencil, the encouragement from your hand around his bicep to pull him towards a mirror to make sure he liked the placement. He wasn’t used to how gentle you were with him when you got close into his space on your stool, finding a position that was comfortable for the both of you to be in. He couldn’t describe the way he felt when the needle started in on his skin mixed with the way your hands wiped away the excess ink and blood with such gentle care he hadn’t seen before. It was the moment he knew that he needed to protect you, even if you were repulsed by him, because no one had ever shown him such kindness and care. He wasn’t sure if his head felt fuzzy and a little dizzy at the pain or if it was because you’d ask him if he was okay every few minutes and offer him a break if he needed it. You offered him a bottle of water from the fridge and even a pack of crackers you kept in your purse that you always ate on your drive home.

He knew then that his soul needed yours.

A few days after you had tattooed Daryl in near silence, and declined the crumpled bills he tried to pull from his pants pocket, you saw him again. He didn't come into the shop. You didn't notice him until you pulled away from the curb and about to turn left down the next street when you saw a puff of smoke and a small orange light fall to the ground and get crushed beneath a boot. It was Daryl, and he tried to be subtle in the way he watched your car drive away, but you noticed. You noticed and you wondered if he was standing there long, if he was waiting for you, and if maybe he was the reason Merle hadn't been by in a long while.

You'd peak out the front window whenever you worked late in the shop to see if he was there, and most times he was. He'd just stand there, still as a statue, until you'd leave for the night and in your rear view mirror, he'd be walking in the opposite direction you were driving until disappearing down an alley.

It took nearly two weeks for you to decide not to get into your car, but instead cross the street and head in his direction instead. He followed the same routine of putting out his cigarette but stood there and waited for you to get closer. He couldn’t help but be surprised that you decided to approach him, he knew that you’d see him whenever you left, but he never imagined that you would feel safe enough to approach him on the cracked sidewalk under the broken street light. Daryl grew a little worried the closer you got, he had the quickest thought pop up that you may think he’s a creep, and a stalker, and you may be walking up to him right now to lay into him to leave you the hell alone.

“Wanna get some food?” You asked quickly, afraid of what he was going to say to you and if he thought you were weird.

You watched as a confused smile grew across his face. He hadn’t expected it, but then again, he hadn’t expected you, either.

“With me?”

And you nodded your head easily, and then like the fever dream he could’ve sworn it was, he found himself perched on the hood of your car, eating a burger from the only fast food joint that was still open in town as you sucked down a milkshake. He listened to you talk about whatever you wanted; your family, the hole in the toe of your shoe, which stars you could name even if neither of you could see them under the steady haze of light pollution.

That’s when he knew he was a goner.

After that evening, he was invited inside. You peeked your head out the door and waved him in. He was worried at first that you needed help, so he hurried. When he pulled the door open, he was met with nothing but peace and calm and warm air. You motioned for him to hop up onto your table, where he envisioned you strapping him down and tattooing him against his will, but it was just to give him a decent place to spend his time. And it became the norm, where he’d walk in and head straight back to your corner, often bringing food or a drink or a little trinket or the time he brought you a pack of AA batteries for your wall clock that died. Nights turned to quick weeks, and Daryl hadn't felt more at home.

By the time Christmas rolled around, he couldn't afford much of anything. He was making crap money and he felt you deserved so much more than he could give you, especially when you handed him a large gift bag from your back seat three days before Christmas. Daryl hadn't expected it to be awkwardly heavy and he stared at the green tissue paper that peeked from the top for an extra long minute before placing it on the ground. He crouched down on the sidewalk, not sure how he was supposed to react as he opened it. What if he didn't seem excited or grateful enough? He wasn't concerned with what was actually in the bag; it could be heinous and terribly ugly and absolutely useless, but he wouldn't care. He didn't take the fact that you went out of your way thinking about him for advantage. He braved a quick glance up at your expectant face before he dug his hands in. He knew the feeling before he pulled it out, and he couldn't help the smile he let out.

Seeing Daryl pull the vest out of the bag had you wrapping your arms around your middle a little self consciously. You weren't sure what he'd make of it. The reason for buying it made so much sense; a set of wings to match the ones you etched into his skin. You were worried it would seem like too much. He spread the black leather vest flat over his thighs as he stayed crouched on the ground and stared at the large, bright white angel wings stitched onto the back. His fingers toyed with the edges of the patches for a while.

"If you don't like it, I can return it, Daryl." You offered quietly, trying to remember where you had put the receipt.

"Nah, it's…" He said, but then stopped. He wasn't sure how to describe the way he was feeling. Elated and appreciated and lucky, to name a few. It was the moment he regretted not having anything for you. "I didn' get you nothin'."

His voice was quiet and you had to strain to hear him. He made sure the vest was secure in his hands before he stood back up, his shoulders hunched forward a little as he kept his eyes on the black stitching across the wings. It was easily the nicest piece of clothing he owned and he didn't take that for granted. You had done that for him and he couldn't wrap his head around that too easily. But something in his brain just… clicked.

He stepped forward so fast you hadn't anticipated it, his hands a little too clumsy and rushed as he reached out to take hold of your arms and he quickly covered your lips with his own. It was brief and harsh and he had no idea what he was doing. He didn't know how to kiss you right, but, if you'd let him, he'd spend the rest of his time doing everything right for you.

And you did let him.

You let him try your first kiss again after his nerves jumbled the first. And try it again after that just because you knew he wanted to.

The gentle kisses and soft touches became a norm, still accompanied by his overprotective need to make sure you make it home okay and that none of the shitbags in town even dare to bother you again. Daryl's run-ins with Merle grew more aggressive, the threats more genuine, especially when Merle learned that you had given Daryl a chance and not him. Merle couldn't understand why someone like you would shack up with his brother. A childish jab at you being "deaf, blind, and dumb" had Daryl breaking Merle's nose right in front of his juvenile group of friends in an instant.

As more time passed, Daryl kept more and more distance from Merle. Daryl took the loss of a place to crash, and false sense of safety of the streets with him, as an opening to get closer to you. He needed a couch; he needed a roof and food and warmth and love, and you had all of that ready for him before he even asked.

The calendar you kept posted on your fridge gained a significant amount of Daryl's jagged lettering, with his work schedule mingling with yours, small notes scrawled along the edges of the paper reminding you to be safe, and you reminding him to eat.

The transition between wanting to be with you and being with you was a taxing time for Daryl. He was concerned that everything he did, every move he'd make, would be wrong. He was still stuck in the knowledge that you let him kiss you whenever he wanted to, you chose to share meals with him, and your free time, too. It made him anxious, and he worried constantly about fucking it all up. He still couldn't get over the feeling of you plastering yourself into his side on the couch to watch TV and then falling asleep very shortly after. Your cheek would rest on his shoulder, his arm would be around your back with his hand having a firm grip on your hip, and your legs thrown over his. It became an almost nightly ritual that he grew to hope for, but was always too worried to ask you for your attention.

Daryl hadn't expected to tell you he loved you the way he did. He never imagined he'd make it this far with you, let alone sharing meals, and blankets, and some of the most honest, heart-clenching conversations he'd ever dared to have.

"We should get married." He mumbled one evening, his eyes glued to the sharp lines of the stars that littered the space around your wrist and onto your hand, your left hand with a fourth finger that seemed terribly bare as far as Daryl was concerned. It wasn't something he had wanted before, nor something he allowed himself to dream of. He hadn't even meant to say it out loud, because at this point, he hadn't even told you he loved you yet. He was still coasting on touches and sweet, safe words and relying on actions to hopefully say the things that the lump in his throat wouldn't allow him to yet.

But this…this came out so easily. So fast and clear and as truthful as Daryl could be.

You snapped your head up to him quickly, eyes wide and a little hazy from the sleep you were just about to slip into. You thought you didn't hear him right, that you were having an in-between dream. But you weren't, and his words sat there waiting for you to react. You were sure that you looked alarmed, especially with the way he began to pull his arm off of you in an attempt to put space between you.

"Daryl-" You said gently, reaching out to grab his arm. The blanket that you had rested over your feet slid to the ground into a heap. Daryl still tried to move away.

"M'sorry, I… tha's not what I meant." He said, dropping his head into his hands and allowing his thumbs to press into his temples a little too hard.

"It's not?" You asked, your voice almost too hard for him to hear. He didn't miss the way you almost sounded disappointed.

"Ya ain't known me tha'long." He ground out, looking for any reason to fix what he'd said. "I ain't… yer too… I don't now, I ain't no good for ya." His shoulders sagged in defeat with the way that intrusive thought kept coming back to him as frequently as it possibly could. He didn't dare look at you.

"No, Daryl. No." Your voice was firm, almost sounding mad, as your grip on his arm tightened. You were afraid that this would be the beginning of him pulling away from you.

When he looked at you, he wished he hadn't. Your eyes seemed bigger and sadder and he wanted to kick himself. He knew he was fucking everything up.

"It's not tha' I didn' mean it." He started slowly, his voice gravely as he tried to get the jumbled thoughts together. "It's just…the timin' ain't right, is it? I can't give ya nothin'... no ring, no home, no fancy dates or a big wedding. I don't have shit and you don' deserve that."

"It doesn't matter, Daryl."

And he felt himself growing frustrated because it did matter to him. He offered you no opportunity, no safety net, no stability. He was less than half a man and he knew it.

"If you ask me again, I'll say yes, Daryl. I would've said yes the first time, too." You said, now sitting up straight and letting go of his arm. You could see him starting to retreat into himself, both physically and mentally, and you knew he needed a moment. You were gonna give it to him. You forced yourself to stand up slowly, before crouching down in front of him. He had his head dropped back into his hands, his eyes keeping good guard from your gaze. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his head, made sure that he heard your very clear 'I love you', and stood again.

When you stepped out of the room, Daryl tried to take a deep breath but his lungs wouldn't fill. He wanted to scream and break something. He'd never been so close to something he wanted so bad. You had opened the door for him as wide as you could and he felt so stupid for not walking through it already. Minutes had passed, and it was too long. The laughter coming from the television was so misplaced it hurt.

When he heard your footsteps slowly walking around from the direction of the bedroom, he finally found the courage to fly to his feet and make his way quickly to you. There was no reason for him to put it off, put you off, and to put off the things that he wants the way he usually does.

“It is what I meant.” He said when he stepped into the room where you had taken to slowly folding and putting away laundry. You seemed calm and content and Daryl would’ve been confused if he didn’t know that you knew him better than he knew himself. You knew that one way or another, he’d come to you when he was ready to talk. You half expected him to come in and apologize quickly, want to move on from the unexpected conversation you’d found yourself in, and bury it for a while. You hadn’t expected him to say that, or to get as close to you as he could, to grab the clothes from your hands and chuck them on the basket across the room, or to grab your face and pull you into him so firmly. The kiss was everything he needed to tell you how he felt about you, because he knew that words would fail him. He wished he knew how to tell you that he belonged to you in every way possible, and he would sell his soul to spend his life with you. Though, he suspected you already knew.

He couldn’t miss the way you slipped a steady and confident ‘yes’ in between kisses, answering the question that still hung in the air around you. He meant it, and so did you, It made him want to cry and scream to release the pent up excitement that bubbled up so quickly in his chest, an excitement he’d never felt before. You’d just agreed to spend your life with him like it was a casual conversation on a wednesday night about the outcome of a football game, like it was an everyday thing, normal and factual.

“So, what? Did you get married before the world ended?” The boy asked, finally capping his markers and leaning back to admire his work. You had always intended to go back and get the flowers colored in; you wanted oranges and pinks with small bits of green- but the empty lines offered you, and the kids, and sometimes Daryl, a chance to turn them into whatever they wanted.

“Oh, yeah,” You said quickly, your eyes finding Daryl’s again. “Like three days after that.”

“Three days?” The boy said with a look of shock on his face. “Doesn’t that stuff take a long time to plan or something? My sister used to watch those dumb shows on TV where the people tried on thirty dresses alone!”

“No,” you laughed, wondering what your wedding dress would’ve looked like had you had one. “I didn’t have a fancy dress like that. Just pulled a blue one out of my closet while Daryl waited for me to hurry up and pick something.”

You saw Daryl get up from his place on top of the picnic table across the way and start to make his way over to you. His face had grown tired, his features harder and stressed. You wished that things could go back to the way they were, in your shitty apartment with Daryl fixing the kitchen sink plumbing because you knew your landlord wouldn’t even bother. To both of your shoes chucked haphazardly to the side by the front door, telling anyone that came in that you were both there, lived together, belonged together, took on the world together in that small, worthless town. You hoped that one day, a hope that was beyond misplaced in the death and destruction that the world only knew now, that one day he could rest and breathe deeply and find a happy that he always deserved- one that you planned to give him for better or for worse. You just hadn’t expected the world to turn to the worse so quickly.

“Do you wish you had a fancy dress?” The boy asked a little quieter, his eyes catching onto Daryl’s approaching figure, still intimidated by him no matter how many times you’d tried to tell people that he was just a big softie.

Daryl’s left hand was reaching out to you in an instant, waiting for you to latch onto him so he could whisk you away into privacy where he could let you sit on his lap, back pressed into his chest as his face rested in your hair, and whisper into your ear how much he loved you over and over. He was never possessive before, he never wanted you to feel trapped with him. But now, when you were away from him for too long, he’d start to panic, his mind would race, and he’d fixate on you until he knew you were safe and alive and in one piece.

Your eyes caught the smudge of black ink on his ring finger, a smudge of initials that complimented your own smudge, and you couldn’t help but smile. After leaving the courthouse that day, Daryl wished he could’ve given you a ring. He hadn’t said that since the night of his jumbled, sudden proposal, but you knew it in the way that he spent the first week of being married to you playing with the empty space on your finger and glancing at it every now and then. You were sure he had a plan to get you one, one that involved working a lot of overtime, and odd side jobs to save up some extra money for one. Watching him get so stuck in his head about it had you rolling your eyes one evening and digging your tattoo machine out of your bag. You pulled him over to the small table crammed into the corner of the kitchen and got the space ready the way you would at the shop. He asked what you were doing a couple times, and though you didn’t answer, he quickly found out when the loud buzzing filled the small apartment and he watched in disbelief as you permanently scratched his initials onto your finger. When you held up your hand for him to see, you could see that his eyes were glassy and his neck was turning red and he didn’t hesitate to rest his hand out close to you, asking for the same thing. Something so permanent and unmistakable. Something that he’d look at every single day and think of you, and to know that you, too, would be thinking about him every day, even if bits of the ink fell out from hand washing or got blown out from sun exposure, you were still his.

“Nah, no fancy dresses for me.” You pretended to gag, which made them both laugh, as you let Daryl pull you to your feet. You waved to the boy as Daryl pulled you with him.

“I dunno,” Daryl mumbled once the two of you reached the door of the guard tower. He pulled it open for you, and looked you up and down before his eyes settled on yours, “Tha’ blue one seemed pretty fancy.”

********

Feedback is always welcome! This is the only place I post my writing. Taglist is open!

@wickedscorpio22 @thefemininemystiquee @baseballbitch116 @diaryofkali

#trash day #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction

588 notes · View notes

disasterofastory · 1 year

Note

I know you're taking a break right now, you do you <3 when you get the chance can you write a Bucky Barnes x little reader story about them play fighting/tickles?

Trouble Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: a hint of dd/lg

A/N: Thank you for your patience! I hope you will enjoy it. :)

The sunlight spills over the horizon, covering the garden in an orange hue. It's still early in the morning. The streets are quiet and calm, except for a few dogs barking in the distance. Their ruckus echoes in the air. You recognize one of them. He is a sweetheart with a voice of a beast. You always meet him when you and Bucky walk to the nearby coffee shop before breakfast.

Your gaze swipes over the fresh, green grass with a swing and a smaller pool in the back. The tall tree at the corner casts a shadow over them. Small, white petals fall all over the place as the branches rock back and forth. A warm breeze rushes through your open window, caressing your face and pushing your hair back from your shoulders. Closing your eyes, you enjoy the soft touch for a second before your attention narrows on Bucky, standing at the fence.

The man is tall and broad. He is still in his pajamas. The gray sweatpants hug his thighs and ass snugly, and the white shirt stretches on his upper body. He leans on the wooden fence with one arm, and you can see every curve of his muscles as he laughs while talking with your neighbor, Steve. The blonde man smiles, too, glancing back at his house for a second before turning back to his friend.

Your gaze moves back to Bucky as you bite onto our lower lip and adjust your new weapon in your hold. The thing is heavy with the sloshing water in it. Your finger slips onto the trigger as you straighten your arms and lift it to aim at your clueless boyfriend. Giddiness and excitement bubble in your chest as you adjust your hold on the plastic one more time.

A bit to the left.

Higher.

Your eyes meet with Steve's blue ones.

But it's too late.

Bucky barely has time to turn around when the water launches out of the gun, landing on the white shirt covering his chest. A shocked grunt leaves his throat, his lips fall open, and his eyes scan his surrounding to find his assassin.

Your eyes widen when he looks up at your window on the second floor and finds you with the water gun still in your hands, pointing at him. You don't hear his voice, but you know he says your name with a frown on his face.

There is no going back now.

You shoot at him again. His t-shirt is soaked, and you can see his nipples through the thin fabric. Steve laughs behind him, taking a few steps back away from the fence. "We will talk later, Steve," Bucky says, not taking his eyes away from you.

You are in trouble.

You shoot again. In the face. A few strands of his dark brown hair fall out of the bun at the back of his head, sticking to his skin.

Before you know it, Bucky is a few steps away from the glass door of the house, and your heart jumps up into your throat. You let the gun fall to the ground with a thud, and you are out of the room in a blink of an eye.

You didn't think this through when you woke up with the empty bed beside you. Bucky's place was cold, and when you got up to search for him, you found the gun sooner than the man. So, it's Bucky's fault, to be honest. You don't think it will make your situation better, though. The brunette is after you. You hear his steps in the house. "Y/N," his voice booms through the walls. "Come here!" Running out of your shared room, you slip into your room with pink walls, cute decors, and a bunch of toys all over the place. The door shuts close behind you too loudly. You jump at the sudden sound, and a grimace contorts your face with displeasure. "Y/N!" The knocks on the door rattle the wood in its place. "Open the door!" "No!" You shout. There is no reason for you to keep quiet. Bucky already knows you are there. "Little girl!" You can feel the change in his voice in an answer to yours. Your tone is higher, and his instincts kick in immediately. "Promise I won't get punished!" The only reply you get is a deep laugh. "Open the door, Y/N," he says instead. A stressed mewl leaves your mouth as you walk back and forth in front of the closed door. You know you get yourself in more trouble with each passing second. "But I really don't want to," you tell him. "Y/N," he says. "Don't get me to start counting to three." "Daddy," you cry out, stressed. "One." Shitshitshit "Two." A second passes. Your hand is on the doorknob. Unmoving. "Th-" "Nonono," you shout, opening the door hurriedly. "Not the three!"

He says nothing, and you don't even have time to do anything else. As soon as the door opens in front of him, you are over his shoulder. His grip on your legs is tight and steady. Blood rushes to your head. "Daddy!" You scream, grabbing the back of his shirt. "Put me down!" "No way, little girl," he scoffs, making his way down the stairs. "You were bad." "It was just a joke!" "In front of Steve?" "He laughed too!" You reason. "And I will laugh soon, too." "What?" You ask, looking up to see the glass door to the garden slide close as Bucky steps out of the house. Your eyes widen. Pushing yourself up just to look back over your shoulder, you see the pool getting closer and closer. "Nononono," you gasp, trying to get out of his hold, but you earn only smacks on your ass. His large palm burns even through the thin fabric of your pajamas. "Take a deep breath, baby," he warns you when he stops at the edge of the pool. His hands slip to your hips, grabbing you there to push you off of himself. A loud scream leaves your mouth as you curl your arms around his neck, even though your legs are already hanging above the water. "Y/N!"

The water is pleasant and refreshing since the nights are still warm. It plashes out onto the grass when both of you land in the pool. Your arms are still around his neck.

"Y/N?" You don't even look at him as you push your legs around his waist. Your whole body is pressed against his. "Yes?" "You are in so much trouble!"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

78 notes · View notes

haechanhues · 4 months

Text

chapter seventeen : mark lee

S I D E : A

Word count : 1k

Warnings : none except the usual - swearing. *sexual* tension I guess. Rizzless flirting that gets a green light when it shouldn’t.

The face that opens the door is a familiar one, but not a friendly one. He immediately scowls and he practically hisses, “Ew, you’re here again.”

Then the door is slammed in your face.

You pause for a second, slightly surprised but not entirely as you mull over what to do. So you just stand there, like an idiot, until the decision is made for you.

The face that opens the door this time is again, familiar but a polite one. More than polite - he’s awkward, unsure and embarrassed. You have no idea why but Haechan says that Mark was embarrassed to be caught checking you out, “Chenle you can’t just shut the door in someone’s face-”

He looks at you with eyes that you found love in, “I’m sorry for that, uh- Haechan isn't here but you’re welcome to come inside-”

You follow after him, making sure to remove the shoes and line them neatly against the wall You notice that Chenle has holed himself back into his room to which Mark sighs at. He figures he should do the polite thing, even though he is still somewhat bashful around you, “Do you want tea or coffee or something?”

“Ahh, I’ll take whatever you’re having.”

He accepts it with a nod, but he’s already lost in his own head. Mark understands Chenle’s grumpiness most times, in fact, he and Haechan find it entertaining mostly. But neither have any idea where Chenle’s anger towards you stems from. Nor does Chenle say a damn word about it.

The strangled yelp you make is not one of pain, but complete surprise and that is what pulls Mark’s complete attention. His orange juice. Not in the glass he just poured you subconsciously, but all over your t-shirt. All over your pretty and probably expensive or at least somewhat valuable t-shirt.

Shit.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” Mark rushes into action, grabbing at the end of his own t-shirt clumsily before dabbing at the developing stain. He ignores the transparency of the shirt and focuses on the task at hand, no doubt the bashfulness creating a pink swell on the apples of his cheeks.

You feel the heat circulate through your body, getting increasinglyflustered by the way his frame seems to hug you. You can’t help but feel a familiar tingle and you hope the sound your throat makes wasn’t as audible to him as it is to you. You can’t help the wince that escapes your mouth at the touch of his gentle fingers skimming across your skin, goosebumps in their wake.

He freezes, letting the fabric fall from his grasp and stick to your skin, “Actually, how about you let me wash that for you and like…give you my shirt or something. I’d ask Chenle since he’s got nicer shirts than me but he- uhm, he’s…uhh- him.”

You nodded.

“For now,” Mark starts, before he removes the jacket from his back and gives it to you to use, “Use this jacket.”

Mark is forgetful and clumsy. But he’s terribly cute and endearing. You can’t help but gravitate towards him.

You want to tell Yves that you weren’t swayed by someone’s looks like you have been many times in the past. You want to say that you kept it simple; attractive but with more substance. Character over all.

But…that would be a lie, not a complete lie but enough of one.

Mark Lee was an extremely handsome guy and his pretty privilege gravitated towards you. Naturally. With the amount of times he spilt shit on you, from the very first moment and since, you were never as annoyed as you thought you would be (Everyone else did that for you seeing as you never got mad at Mark Lee).

He leads you into his room where you manage to fuck yourself over in the best way. You knock over his abandoned bottle of jack on the floor, cursing at yourself so ferociously you forget you are practically half naked, pawing at the mess with Mark’s jacket and unable to fathom that that the owner of said room, upon hearing your spluttering had decided to play white knight and save you.

So he saw you. Oh, did he see you. Bent over, skin exposed cleaning up after an expensive bottle of jack. Mark audibly gulps and you’re left completely mortified. Terribly fucking mortified. In fact, you’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life (and that’s saying something, considering you have been publicly humiliated and shamed for existing.)

But because he is Mark Lee, he swallows his surprise before he kneels down beside you, taking your hands in his and lifting you to both feet. He’s so soft and gentle when he tells you that it’s okay and that you didn’t have to pay him back (You did. It was such an expensive bottle of alcohol)

When he cards a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you almost melt into a puddle. Because he is so sweet and you love it on him. The onslaught of endearment you have towards him flusters you so much you’re self conscious about how he sees you. But you can see the way you manage to have the same impact on him, and it softens you right up again.

“Okay.. I know I fucked up the first time, but- do you want anything to drink? Tea…coffee? Juice? We had Jack Daniels but-”

Purposeful pause and a giggle. Yours.

You can’t help the giggle that passes your lips and he wants to hear it more. It’s clear and it’s melodic and it’s sending his heart into overdrive the more he hears it.

“Anything you’re having,” You repeat, grin permanently etched onto your face.

Mark grins, his right cheek protruding, “Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

You get changed, taking your time as you process what just happened before you walk into the hallway, spotting Mark place your drink on the bench. Tea, you assume.

Though you love him with all your heart, when Haechan walks through the door with his signature grin and ‘double down’ chunky boots you want to knock him out, “LOOK AT THIS - MY HOES ALL TOGETHER IN ONE PLACE!”

S I D E : B

THE SERIAL LOVER

in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering.

chapter seventeen : mark lee

masterlist | prev | next

taglist : @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @90s-belladonna @jaeyunluvr @ahnneyong @liliansun

#kflixnet #k-labels #nct fic #nct social au #nct smau #nct 127 fic #nct dream fic #nct x reader #mark lee fic #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct fluff #mark lee fluff #nct angst

38 notes · View notes

faecaptainofdreams · 10 months

Text

Six days in, three to go.

The zbornak sat alone by the campfire, her prey tied to a cactus, of all things.

Over the near-week they'd been together, his optimism and ability to handle anything she threw at him had grated on her.

She tried not to let him have the power of knowing he frustrated her, but Sylvia was losing her nerve.

He talked too much, escaped his binds too much, was overall just too much.

And he really though he could be her friend?

Not even in his furry orange dreams.

He must've been one hell of a joker, she thought, or completely batshit.

Either way, it wasn't any of her business.

In her remarkable contempt this night, she allowed him to eat only a couple of small desert plants for his dinner (and water), and kept him away from the fire to remain cold.

The cactus was just for extra touch; she wanted his spirit broken.

She wanted to see him crack and finally fight back against her, to give her a real reason to feel okay about dropping him off.

This was how she handled all her victims; no attachments, no feeling, no mercy.

You can't be a bounty hunter and feel remorse.

But even cold, even with an unfilled stomach, and even tied to a goddamn thorny plant in the open wilderness, Wander the fugitive continued to smile, and babble.

Even with blood staining his fur from being pricked by needles.

Even with his legs being so tired from walking all day, so tired they were bowing.

Even with the threat of death looming over his head, he found strength inside.

Sylvia listened to him stoically as she ate her freshly-killed hare.

It was obvious by his voice and mannerisms that he was deeply uncomfortable and exhausted, but what would it take for him to give up?

"--I mean, it's SOME consolation that they want me alive, don'tcha think?

Maybe they just want me to serve my time," he finished with a tired smile.

Sylvia, meanwhile, finally eyed him from the corner of her gaze, pausing.

He could not be serious.

"OH!

Maybe I'll get community service helpin' folks by pickin' up trash on freeways!

Or helpin' lil' old ladies cross streets or minin' for precious ores for hospital equipment!

D'aww, and they'd gimme some'a those cute lil' stripy outfits!"

Sylvia rose coolly to her feet, nostrils flaring, and quietly unsheathed a hunting knife from her ammo belt.

Wander noticed right away, but seemed unfazed.

"Oh my, that's an awful large knife!

You gonna cut me loose an' let me sit with ya?" he asked, now smiling excitedly as her shadow loomed over him.

"'Cos that'd be s--"

In a flash the zbornak was in front of him, jamming a knife into the flesh of the cactus, just an inch from the top of his tattered hat.

A tiny shriek escaped her captive as fluid from the injured plant squirted out and bled down its body and onto his hat, soaking into the fabric.

He breathed faster and with effort, peering deep into the piercing, laser-like neon-pink eyes of the bounty hunter.

She spoke low and grizzled, brow heavy with anger.

The nomad pulled his lip up, fighting gravity and his nerves, never blinking.

"They only reason they want you breathing, is to get the satisfaction of watching the light leave your eyes."

Wander fought to hide the trembling in his body.

He didn't want her to feel anymore in control than she wanted him to feel.

"You're gonna swing...

And I don't mean on a playground..."

Sylvia swiftly yanked the knife back out from the cactus, releasing more water and juices to drizzle down its lumpy exterior and to soak into Wander's hat and fur.

As she walked back to the fire, Wander allowed himself to shudder, exhaling after having held his breath for those last few moments.

Although he was now sweating, he somehow felt even colder after she walked away from him.

He'd pressed closer up against the cactus when he was startled, pushing more needles into his skin -- he already had a few jammed into the backs of his arms.

Thankfully his large head meant his body couldn't be pressed flat against it, and Sylvia had even given him a little wiggle room.

The way she'd seen it, if he had been tied tight to the plant, the deep impaling of the thorns might have killed him.

That or a broken neck from slumping his head harshly all night.

She couldn't bring him back dead, or she wouldn't get paid.

Rattled and suffering, Wander observed Sylvia sit back by the fire and finish her meal.

Despite everything, he still managed a tiny smile after swallowing the dry lump in his throat.

In the morning, Sylvia would be dismayed to find him having freed himself, and still positive and ready to follow her to his demise.

-------------------------------------------------------------

#Wander Over Yonder #WOY #Wander Over Yonder Sylvia #star nomad #zbornak #alien #bounty Hunter

46 notes · View notes

imagineanime2022 · 1 year

Text

Bracelets

Katsuki Bakugo X GN!Reader

Word Count: 897

Requested: @supernerdycookietrashblr

Request: I was wondering I can do little cute requests I heard this sound TikTok based of this audio https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRqnXVkP/

I was wondering if you can do bakugou x reader where reader made him a bracelet with signature colors. Based of the tiktok sound I hope this make sense and aslo reader and bakugou are dating just wanted to add lol if u have any questions fill free to dm

You and Bakugo had been friends in middle school, though he never said you were his most valued friend, he’d do anything to keep you safe. He was softer with you than anyone else and was relieved to see you in his UA class when your first year started. You never noticed anything because you had been this way since you were kids but everyone in the class noticed. “Hey Deku, what's going on with (Y/N) and Bakugo?” Mina was the one who asked, she sat in front of him as the rest of the Bakusquad took the remaining seat, Iida and Uraraka stopped to listen as well. “What are you talking about?” Midoriya asked as he looked at the two of you, Bakugo was slapping something out of your hand and replacing it with half his sandwich. “They’ve always been like that.” “Like their dating?” Mina asked. “He’s always treated her like that.” Midoriya nodded “even when we were younger.” “So are we going to do anything about that or..?” Denki asked. “What are you planning?” Sero asked. “Don’t worry about it.” Mina waved him off as she watched you poke Bakugo’s nose, he tried to bat your hand away though he didn’t try very hard.

Over next couple of days the Bakusquad attempted to get the two of you together, with number of hilariously failed plans, you and Bakugo got together on your own, with you around Bakugo spent a lot more time helping you than yelling at everyone else about the only thing that never changed was his complaining about how annoying everything was. You were joint at the hip, if you were hungry he’d have you sit on the worktop while he cooked for you, if you needed help with homework you could be found in one of your bedrooms working through whatever you didn’t understand, whenever you were hanging out with the others he’d always have you somewhere close to him.

Bakugo walked into your room you had been dating for almost 2 years by now and at this point you basically just shared two rooms between each other, some of his clothes were in your room and some of yours were in his and one of you would be sneaking into the others room when the lights went out, you were sitting on your bed holding something in your hands “Whatcha holding?” He asked. “Oh um here.” You held it out to him, he took it from your hands. It was a black braided bracelet with orange and green beads oven through the fabric. “Who’s this for?” He asked. “It’s for you.” You answered. “I don’t wear bracelets.” He mumbled. “Oh that’s okay you don’t have to.” You reached out for it but he pulled it from your reach. “No, I’ll wear it back off.” He said as he wrapped an arm around you pulling you closer “put it on for me.” You took the bracelet from his hand and put it on his wrist. “So what’s this for?” “Well, we’re going to spend less time together over the next year, I just wanted to give you something that reminds you that I’m here even if you can’t see me.” You explained. “Hey, what are you talking about we’re going to be together the whole time.” He knocked your nose with his as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “You want to be the No.1 hero so you need to take every opportunity that you're given.” You reminded him and he shook his head. “It’s not worth it if you're not with me, I won’t need anything to remember you by because I’m going to be No.1 with you right next to me.” He promised. “I’m keeping this though.” “Are you sure?” You asked “you don’t have to-” “Stop that.” He slapped your hands away as you tried to loosen the bracelet. “Alright.” You giggled. “Don’t these things usually come in pairs?” He asked, looking at your wrists. “I made that one myself, so there isn’t a matching one.” You mumbled. “Mmm.” He hummed hugging you, considering he had forgotten what he came here for.

A few days later, you were walking into Bakugo’s room and he was sitting on his bed he was reading something he glanced over before gesturing for you to come over, he smiled when you got closer, he pulled you to sit in front of him before reaching into his drawer and pulling something out. He held it out and you smiled, taking the bracelet from him. “You know I’m not really a bracelet person.” You smirked and he gave you a challenging look as he reached out to take it back “hey back off, I’m gonna wear it.” “Yeah I bet you will.” He mumbled helping you put it on, he made sure that everyone would be able to see your matching bracelets and hopefully scare off anyone who tried to pursue you when he wasn’t around. “Did you make it?” You asked. “I had to learn but it was pretty easy.” He answered. “Yeah?” you asked. “It looks good.” “Everything I do looks good.” He gloated as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now what are you doing here?” “Oh right!” You shuffled closer before starting to explain what you had actually come over to his room for.

Request Here!!

#my hero academia oneshot #my hero academia reader insert #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo oneshot #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader

84 notes · View notes

cutesmokes · 7 months

Text

It's a lazy Sunday evening and our favorite mailman/ butterfly expert pair are just enjoying each other's company like they always did. But tonight is different. Something silly is in the air and it's clear that both of them had caught it.

Day 3: cuddles

The evening was cloudy, a misty haze turning the sky above a sleepy orange. Every neighbor had their own way of celebrating the small victory of getting through the week. Rather it be a special show or indulging in their favorite hobby but for Frank and Eddie, nothing was better than curling up with a home cooked meal as they talked in their kitchen. Though there were little dishes, they still worked together to get them done. Chores with the people you love always made it more fun anyways. Their bed, which was usually tidy, had become a sort of nest. Pillows sat against the walls, the tangle of blankets created. In the middle is where the couple sat, leaning against each other peacefully. They sat shoulder to shoulder, a blanket wrapped around them as they casually talked about their day. Eventually, however, as the night went on, gentle conversations and chuckles turned to sleepy giggles. Eddie had scooped up his partner by under his arms and held them closer to his chest, nuzzling his forehead into Frank’s. The butterfly expert smiled tenderly, his arms wrapping around his shoulders, hands resting gently against his back while their long fingers traced lazy patterns across the small of his back. Eddie sighed happily, his eyelashes dancing as his eyes fluttered closed. Frank had to just take a moment to admire him. The usual rain cloud never was the type to get all mushy. they were always looking for facts, making sure things were “just so”. Frank Frankly was, well, frank. But something about Eddie helped them forget about that and lighten up, sometimes at least. A sly smile stretches across their lips as one of their hands runs down the mailman’s side, their fingers working against the fabric in light, jittery motions. Soft titters filled the silence as Eddie’s arms squished against his sides. A soft dusting of rose began coloring his cheeks as his eyes opened. His subtle dimples now more pronounced as his lopsided smile grew.

“Frahahank.. I was sleepin’.” frank only shook their head, continuing the gently skittering over the plush.

“I don't see what’s stopping you from doing so.” they replied simply, resting their cheek on the man’s head, pressing their face into the soft mass of his strawberry red hair. While Eddie usually kept his hair tidy, it was alway a bit of a shaggy mess during the evening hours. Frank hand always found it cute in some way but has always been a bit too shy to say it aloud. So, they showed it in different ways like tussling it while the poor dear was still half asleep or even helping him brush it out when needed. Frank had never been good with words and always struggled to say their feelings, especially when it was important. There just never seemed like there was a word powerful enough to describe how they felt. Maybe that's why they had been drawn to Eddie. Along with his big heart and gentle southern twang, he always knew what to say. As the butterfly expert became lost in thought, their hand slowly drifted across the mailman’s stomach, causing giddy giggles to slip from his lips. Shyly, Eddie tilted his head, burying his face into the crook of his partner’s neck, causing them to giggle childishly. As a sort of “payback” Frank sank down into the covers, pressing their face against the mailman’s cheek before peppering gentle kisses onto the subtle freckles that dotted his face. The gentle dusting became a stubble bloom as Eddie melted into the affection, practically giggling himself silly as he just pulled his usually prickly companion closer.

“Ahah- H-Honestly, darlihhihihin- what has gotten into you~?” He asked playfully, not really minding the fact that the tables had turned. Usually, he was the one to initiate the playful mood to either get his beloved away from his books or just to see their smile. It was always special to see his loved ones happy. Especially his Frank. After a moment,the kisses paused, just so that they could answer.

“Why Eddie, is it so odd for me just to show how much I love you?” They leaned closer, brushing their nose against Eddie's, who only chuckled sheepishly.

“N-No. not one bit… just know- Ah will be gettin you in the mornin’~.”

He teased, his own fingers fluttering up into Frank's neck, practically beaming as the slimmer puppet’s shoulders rose up , a hand cupping against his.

“Eeheddie! Hum. well. Well. well just have to see, won't we~?” butterflies crawled up Eddie's nerves again as Frank’s wriggling fingers against his belly and tender kisses started up again. Neither were sure when they eventually did fall asleep, all they knew was that they had each other and that would always be more than enough for them.

ACK first welcome home fic!!! Okay I know this one is a little shorter and I really wanted to stick to a theme. And I have! But I just really needed to write about these two love birds. They honestly have my whole heart-

#tickletober 2023 #lee!eddie #ler!frank #lee!frank #ler!eddie #welcome home tickles #Eddie x frank #ugh i love them so much #smokers stories™

12 notes · View notes

triotastic · 1 year

Text

Just a little smth i wrote for english. We were practicing descriptive mode, and this turned out pretty well. Figured id post it here :D

Octo Canyon. It was a very pretty area despite, well, everything. Now that everyone had gone to Splatsville, it was pretty quiet. 4 was still used to hearing the chatter of Marie and Callie upon popping out of the red rimmed grate, but the quaint little cabin was empty now. Even the taped up snow globe was empty. Apparently Octavio made his way to the Splatlands too. 4 glanced at the rest of the familiar landscape, catching sight of the purple, green, and orange training dummies near the short wall. She looked a little further over, taking a second to inspect the blue couch over by the tree, smiling a bit as she saw the little zapfish green mini zapfish plush, with its slightly patchy look and little offset eyes. It was surprisingly soft too, with all the different bits of fabric.

She looked back and rather than just glancing over it, she looked at the archway that led to the rest of the floating island. She always wondered if those tentacle shaped rocks were always like that, or if they were carved specifically to fit the theme. They didn’t look very natural, but rocks are weird sometimes, so it could be either, she supposed.

As she shifted her attention down a little bit, 4 found herself remembering her first day as an agent, looking at that very same ramp for the first time. It was a very strange situation back then, she’d followed a strange woman into a manhole - look it wasn’t smart but her curiosity got the better of her! She got to be a secret agent out of it anyways. - that first look at what she’d gotten herself into. Thinking back, it was pretty funny seeing Marie’s reaction to her just not knowing who she was, but it was pretty awkward back then. It is pretty surreal to think about though. Just beyond that archway are the kettles that lead into the various Octarian Domes. They were invisible at first, but the way the surroundings looked through them was just off enough that she was able to tell where they were. She still remembers the slow ‘tut-tut-tut’ of the hero shot, and the odd ‘clink clink clink’ of the kettle being hit.

Back to the present, and back to the cabin, she decided to make her way over there. The little red roofed building had a strange brass, almost flower shaped tube on the top. She thinks Marie called it a grandma-phone or something? Weird name, but who is she to judge? The little red lanterns hanging from the roof always looked nice, and the green sheet of fabric that covers the door is there like always, it’s got a slight wave pattern at the bottom. There’s a little green and silver kettle hiding behind it, with some cute little white and yellow flowers at the bottom. She looks at the old phone hanging on the side of the cabin, all old and green from oxidation. It looks eerily similar to the phone down in the deepsea metro. 8’s had a lot of time to talk about her time down there, especially now that everyone’s over in the Splatlands. She better head inside now, gotta make herself something to eat!

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #technically in the splatoon 3 time #agent 4 #the others are only mentioned so i wont tag them

7 notes · View notes

pbandjesse · 10 months

Text

I'm back in my hammock. I love my hammock. I miss being next to my James but I am happy right now. For the most part today was really nice. It was a good day.

I slept alright. I remember falling asleep and it was a solid night's rest. I woke up before my alarm. And would get out of bed a few minutes early. James came and made the bed while I got dressed. I really liked my outfit today. I felt pretty. I felt good.

James would walk out with me. And I decided to stop for breakfast even though I really didn't want to eat. I knew I needed too. I decided to get orange juice instead of soda but that was like $3 for some reason. And while it was fine oj, I don't think I'll do that again.

I had a nice drive to camp. I found a new band, called Hot Mulligan, and I've been enjoying them a lot. They have like the perfect 2006 emo sound. It's great. Very nostalgic.

I was a little frustrated when I got to camp. My outlets got overused last night when they tried to play a movie. But they didn't actually fix them. Which is whatever, I was able to fix them. But my issue really was that they unplugged my cord that goes to my fridge!! Rude. Thankfully it was fine but it makes me annoyed when people unplug things and don't put them back.

I went to the office to voice my displeasure. Elizabeth agreed it was very rude and she apologized on behalf of whoever did that. And I decided I would take a walk to calm down.

I went and ate berries. I love wine berries. They are my favorite berry. I enjoyed my walk. And I went to pet Quakers the duck and the goats. Who yelled at me when I walked away. But I was happy to pet them for a while.

I went back to the art building and laid in my outside hammock until Tati got there. I would finish my book today and got started on the new one. Which made me really happy. I had more time to read today and that felt good.

Tati was very helpful today, and she made some fun art with found objects. I have to hold myself back when I was to be weird about supplies. Because she's not wasting things, she's using them and that is fine but I am just feeling possessive for no reason so I am trying to let it go. I'm glad she's making art. That is what I shall focus on even if my brain is like. Fear!! Loss!! Control!! Its unnecessary, everything is fine.

And she was a big help. I was able to just focus on what was happening in the building and did my machine sewing and things were very good. Even if both my morning groups were 15 minutes late, everyone finished their little bad and it made me very happy.

I had my breakfast sandwich for lunch and hung in my hammock. Eventually Trista came to use a hammock. And Ty would join us too. We all chatted for a while. And eventually, sadly, it was time for our groups.

I would have a kid doing tipi wakan today and I felt bad I didn't have as much stuff for him to help with. But the things he helped with were excellent. He did sorting and folding fabric and just those little things that I haven't been doing but needed to be done. And when we had day camp groups he was a big help with the finishing work and putting on buttons and it was nice to have the help. So it wasn't all on Tati.

I would read during my break. And I felt excited to do the metal casting with the boys. I am for sure going to need more metal if I'm gonna do this another week. I am going to go and try to have a conversation about that tomorrow with the office. But once the boys got started they did so good. Like it was so fun. No everyone's worked exactly right, but we are getting the hang of it. Coined shapes work best, and we were able to make some fun little pieces. I love when the boys make things for their girlfriends. It's so cute. But it was just a lot of fun. And everyone did a good job.

After the last day camp group I had my tipi wakan kid work on a shield painting while I went and read my book for a half hour. And then we would finish the day with the horse girls.

I taught a few of them how to widdle and use a knife. So I was able to sign off on their knife skills portion of their tipi wakan paper. And all the girls did really good. Celia would come and join us and we shared photos of the mushroom I found this morning. When I found it it was so round but when she came by later it was all tall and flat!! So strange!

Dinner was pretty good. I was so happy we had vegetable spring rolls and I could have them!! Me and Ty would help with hand out seconds. I had two scoopers for rice and was having fun handing it out.

We got cookies for dessert. I wanted an ice cream but it's fine. I got my cookie and came up here to lay in the dark because my head hurt.

And my eyes still hurts. But it's fine. Ty came up and we talked for a long time and he filled me in on gossip and things going on around camp that I didn't know. He's a sweet boy and I don't like that there has been stuff that's bothered him. He's going to make a proposal to the office about expanding the bird enclosure so that Rocky, the turkey, can be with the other birds. I hope they go for it.

Now I am laying in my hammock. And I am very much ready to sleep. Ty just came by to get his apples he forgot on my table. But now is time for sleep.

I hope tomorrow is good. Maybe I'll get to swim before it starts storming again. It's supposed to start tomorrow night and basically storm all Friday. We'll see what happens. I just hope it's fun.

Sleep well everyone. I hope you are taking care of yourself!!

3 notes · View notes

wishforchaos · 10 months

Text

Sanders Sides HCs: things that I own that I think they'd wear.

Bc I am diving back into my childhood medias so I can slightly heal from the HUGE traumas that are about to come my way family-wise.

ANYWAY-

Patton:

Light blue GAP sweater: super soft and casual, with a soft V-neck. Could be paired with a cute skirt or pants, with either ankle boots or nicer tennis shoes.

Floral sundress: it's flowy, it's inner slip is soft, and the flower print fabric is sheer. This is based SOLELY off of vibes, but it fits.

White Beret: a souvenirs that I got in France. Could pair it with either of the aforementioned items.

Mary-Jane heels: my first pair of actual heels. Wore them to my first Homecoming. Holds sentimental value. Also I think he'd like the sound they make on hard floors.

Roman:

Sophomore year homecoming dress: it's shimmery, it's pink (i don'town much red, it doesn't look very good on me in most cases) , it's also flowy. It's a wrap dress made of very soft...satin? I think? Not really sure but I got it in Francesca's at the mall, and curled my hair to look like a brunette Marilyn Monroe. Has a bit of tragedy hung on it, as I left homecoming crying that year.

Red Christmas dress: one of the few red things I own and looks good on me. It's sleeveless, high necked, and is made out of velvet. Its a cooler red, hits about knee length, and has a dropped waist. Like down to the bottom of the dress where there's soft like....ruffles? Pleats? Idk ask Calvin Klein. Got it at TJ MAXX for really cheap though.

Red and white striped swater: super cute, REALLY SOFT LIKE OMG, and another red thing that looks good on me! Yay! Pair it with jeans or a black skirt and it looks nice. Oh! It's cropped too. It was a Christmas sweater, before I came to terms with being nonbinary and started to wear feminine stuff again. Super fluffy and warm.

Burnt Orange (?) Maxi skirt: long, flowy, and makes you feel like you're in a medieval town. I got it in a cute little boutique in a smaller town in my state. Got a warm yellow top and felt like Dolores Madrigal. However it can be paired with a plain black or white top. I personally pair it with a black spaghetti strap bralette, easiest way to describe it.

Mary-Jane Heels: "But Wish!" I hear you say "those are listed under Patton!" And you would be absolutely right! They are, aren't they? Well I left a part out about these heels. They're also my theater shoes. My character shoes! I did my first high-school show in them! Oh it was so fun! I found out I can full on sprint in them too, while doing theater! Memories, memories! Danced all night in them. I even wore them to homecoming again with the aforementioned pink dress!

White Beret: another thing from Patton's list, yes. But it's from France, it's stylish, and could work very well within Roman's wardrobe! I actually bought it in Paris! How fun that I bought it in the city of love! Roman would very much enjoy that I feel.

Logan:

Freshman year homecoming dress: shorter, tighterfitting, and dark blue. Nothing to snag, get caught on, or trip over. Practical, and you look good while doing whatever you so choose to do in it. I also met my boyfriend in this dress! He stopped me from maiming a guy who was harassing my friends in it! How fun! It's shimmery too by the way, for a bit of flair.

Knee length black skirt with lace and a strip of ribbon: practical, more conservative, yet still looks good. Got it at St. Vincent's (a thrift store) and was so glad I did.

Black worn leather bag: a hand-me-down from my great-aunt to my mother, who in turn let me have it after I expressed interest in it, it's a messenger bag-esque style purse. It has space to store pencils, id's, wallets, sanitary items, even some books! Very fun and stylish, while also functional!

Black heeled ankle boots: another staple in my classier shoe wardrobe (which is mostly boots, accompanied by three pairs of tennis shoes, one pair of flats, and two pairs of sandals), and made of suede, pretty sure they're also a designer brand that I got for cheap. They are designer, just not Luxury brand, how fun! I think Logan would enjoy the minute I just spent googling about that.

Virgil:

Ghostface graphic tee: got at Hot Topic, it's Ghostface in a car with the text "get in loser! We're going to watch scary movies!" And I found it funny so I bought it. I just think Virgil would vibe with it.

Demonia Ranger 301s: my fist pair of Demonia platforms! I wear them the most out of all my boots haha. They're very simple, only two-three inches and overall just complete a vibe.

Plain purple hoodie: self explanatory, really.

Grey plaid hoodie: also self explanatory.

Grey and white Fall Out Boy hoodie: one of the first hoodies that I wore religiously. I think Virgil would appreciate the band, and also the fact that at one point, I could fit my whole body into it.

Remus:

Hand cropped tank top: the most risqué article of clothing I own. It was made out of stretchy fabric, something I didn't take into consideration when I marked where I wanted to crop. So when I cut it off, and put it on, it barely covered my chest. Needless to say my parents were NOT pleased, but they let me keep it because I liked it and I MADE it. I tend to layer this under a mesh top that I own. I would list it, but the color scheme doesn't fit Remus at all. It's black.

Black miniskirt: a pleated black miniskirt that I own. If I had my way, this item and the cropped tank would be an outfit, but my parents wouldn't let me out of the house, so that's a not for now. It's mid thigh length.

Fishnet thigh-highs: the man would wear fishnets. You can't tell me otherwise.

Jean jacket: it's a lightwash, but it's covered with pins and is overall going to be very alt fashion once I'm done with it. I think either Virgil or Remus would wear this tbh.

Leather jacket: I have two but this one is big, bulky, and is real leather. A hand-me-down from my aunt, I LOVE this thing and I'm sure Remus would too. It's perfect for riding on a motorcycle.

Janus:

Leather Jacket: my other one, slim, classy, but still has edge. It's got cool stitching on some of the panels too.

Midi-length yellow skirt: it sits just below my knees, and is a dark golden yellow color, pair it with a button down, tights, and heeled boots and it's very classy.

Yellow and white checkered dress: a similar yellow to the skirt, the dress has one sleeve, and a cutout on the side. Very interesting but also very flattering. If I remember correctly, it also has pockets and a slit. Over all, very classy.

Knee length boots: they're my motorcycle boots when I don't wear my platforms. No seriously, that's what they're made for! They're Harley-Davidson. They've got lacing on the side, a small heel, not even an inch I don't think, and a H-D logo on the faux strap on the top.

Sorry that this was so long, but I hope you enjoyed!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #ts roman #ts remus #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts janus

5 notes · View notes

dannythedog · 2 years

Note

Sooo I was thinking of making a separate fan fiction account because I’ve been doing my simping and reading on my main. And I wanted to write a series about Josh falling in love with a stripper as a sex worker because I feel like relationships are very hard for us, and we don’t get enough love sometimes. Was wondering what you thought? This is a rough draft of a short part of what would be the first chapter. And if I should even continue! (I don’t know what’s up with the awkward spaces smh)

You looked in the mirror as you ran a brush through your dark long locks. Another Friday night at work, and you were doing what you usually did as you waited for the crowds to roll in. You were lip syncing and dancing around the dressing room as you giggled with your friends. The air was filled with laughter, and stories about terrible boyfriends, and the oh so common “DOES ANYBODY HAVE A HAIRDRYER, I NEED TO STRETCH THE PLASTIC ON MY SHOES!”

You were snapped out of your daze as your friend Envy bursted through the door. “Y/N! They’re calling you to stage!”

“Shit.” You fluffed up your hair and pulled a black satin robe over the red lingerie that was soon to hit the floor. You ran out as fast as your 8 inch heels could carry you.

“Y/N?” the DJ spoke over the speakers “Y/N- oh there she is.” Laughter broke out from the staff and your fellow dancers as they called your name. You were always late to stage, but no one seemed to mind. Everybody in this little dive bar- strip club family loved you, and you loved them.

You scanned the stage, and found yourself unimpressed by all of the men’s poker faces as they sat at your stage. You didn’t understand why men had to look so serious all the time. Couldn’t they PRETEND they were having fun. I mean c’mon. They were about to see you naked.

One face stood out at the end of the stage though. This one had a big enough smile plastered across it to compensate for everybody else’s lack of emotion. His eyes seemed to light up and his skin seemed to glow from the stage lights bouncing around the room. His curly brow hair framed his face perfectly. You could tell he spent time in the sun. Sunshine. That’s the nickname you would give him in your head for the night. You giggled to yourself as you wiped down the pole, and thought “I should be tipping HIM.”

Your signature starting song played over the speakers: “Foxey Lady” by Jimi Hendrix

“You know you’re a cute little heart breaker.”

You spun around the pole to reach the top, and did a myriad of tricks to gracefully fall to the floor. When the dizziness subsided the sunshine boy was still grinning wide at you, and throwing money on your stage. He was throwing more than anybody else, so you crawled over to give him some extra attention. You pushed his orange drink with a salted rim to the side as you sat on the tip rail.

“And you know you’re a sweet little love maker” Jimi Hendrix continued to blare over the speakers. Making men fall to your feet was your job, and you were damn good at your job, but something about this sunshine boy made your heart speed up a little and made you feel bashful. You were nervous to take your top off for the first time ever. That feeling melted away as you threw your leg over his shoulder, and slingshotted your top at his face. He removed the fabric to reveal a shy giggling face that was flushed with red. You slung your other leg around his shoulder and teased him with a hand ruffling through his curls. He reached his hand full of money an inch above your exposed chest. You rested your weight back onto your hands and threw your head back as he worked his way down to your soft stomach, dropping dollar bills along your body as you two giggled together. You were doing a good job at masking the butterflies rushing in your stomach as his hand got close to you, but never actually touched you.

“WOW. Who ARE you?” The sunshine boy finally spoke.

“They call me Y/N,” you said with a smile and held out your hand.

He grabbed your hand to kiss it. “Well Y/N, may I buy you a drink when you get off stage.”

Umm WRITE THIS RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

#my asks #greta van fleet #gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka

15 notes · View notes

morbidsecretary · 1 year

Text

Imagine

You wake up early. You always wake up early on Christmas. Everyone does. You stretch and luxuriate in the cozy plaid flannel of the pajamas you found at the foot of your bed on Christmas Eve. The same size as last year's, you noticed when you looked at the tag, heart sinking a little. But they fit loose, comfortingly, almost comically so, enough to make you feel like a child again.

From downstairs comes the smell of coffee, warm and inviting, and there's a hush in the air that makes you think of snow. Your drawstring is clinging to your waist for dear life. You cinch it tighter again before you creep on soft feet to kneel at the window, and though you are careful to manage your expectations - you've been wrong before - you feel a thrill as you part the blinds to pillowy white in the backyard, frosting the rosebushes and the ponderosas beyond, capping the fenceposts and muffling the peak of your back neighbors' roof. You beam as you take it all in. When your heart feels full, you turn away and dart downstairs with the fabric of your pajamas billowing around your ankles.

Breakfast at Christmas is always a spread. Your dad has a sweet tooth you didn't inherit, but the smell of coffee cake and orange rolls is pleasing and goes well with coffee. You sit and sip contentedly, letting cream and real sugar roll around your tongue. At some point in the last year, you accepted that stevia wasn't for you, and learned you'd rather take your coffee black - or not at all - than watery with oat milk. It's a treat now, not a tool, something that inevitably encouraged you to protect your precious sleep rather than relying on caffeine. Soon there are eggs and bacon on the stove, everything timed to be ready at once in a practice your parents have spent years perfecting. You help set the table, and once it's all laid out, you help yourself to scrambled eggs (for protein) and one piece of perfectly-cooked bacon (for Christmas) and relish the way moderation has become familiar as you take dainty bites in between your last sips of coffee. You exchange gifts at home, cozy in the living room, before you go to your grandparents' for the big extended-family party.

You were brave this year, and made a wish list. It's almost all clothes. Now that you've settled at a weight you're happy with, you're so excited to build a wardrobe again. You get more than one worried "I guessed on the size..." but not a single piece fits too tight, and you like things oversized anyway. You get all kinds of cute cold weather things, a cute new bag, the usual complement of warm fuzzy socks, and you feel warm and safe in the knowledge that almost every piece in your new closet will have a loving memory attached - the memory of the person who gave it, but also of the year you finally embraced self-love in the form of self-discipline, the year you made changes instead of waiting for them, the year you fought for a reward you deserved and won. <3

#little late but whatever #imagine #sweetspo #christmas thinsp0 #not pro just using tags

3 notes · View notes

crazyblondelife · 1 year

Text

A Touch of Color and My Wishlist for February

"“It’s realizing that a great dream is not as good as a great memory. The dream can be had by anyone. The memory – must be made.”" -- Eric Thomas

I wanted to start this post…even though it’s a fashion post, with a little inspiration! I’m trying to be very conscious of how I’m spending my time and purposefully creating memories in my life!

Now, on to Spring trends, my wishlist and another understated outfit idea for Valentine’s Day!

When I can’t think of anything else to wear…I put on a pair of jeans! I just keep buying them but I would like to expand my fashion options this spring and find other kinds of bottoms to wear. It’s so much easier in summer because there are pretty dresses to wear but I hate nothing more than to be cold.

I recently did a big closet clean out and let go of so many things, which does make getting dressed easier, but now I’m feeling the need to find a few really great “investment” pieces that are colorful and classic and that I will keep for4ever!

Keep scrolling for a few things I’ve been eyeing recently that might just show up really soon and also for details on this affordable look I’m wearing here!

The one part of this outfit that I would't necessarily put in the “affordable” category are my Gucci shoes, but I would put them in the “keep forever” category. I’m sure I’ll wear them until I wear them out and they elevate any outfit I choose to put them with! When I bought these in Paris, I was looking for something classic that could be worn with a number of different looks! These shoes check all of those boxes plus they’re veryh comfortable. For the coming spring season, I’m dying over these retro pumps from Gucci, but I also found these that are much less expensive (although the heel is higher) and these from Tory Burch that are very cute!

The cute (and warm) faux fur jacket that I’m wearing is from Abercrombie and was purchased last season! I’t so neutral that I’ve worn it with everything and I think it looks much more expensive that it actually was! I’ve linked several in the boutique below that you may like! My jeans are new from Mother (the Hustler Ankle Fray) and they are more iight weight making them perfect for spring! They don’t look like ankle on me so just remember that I’m 5;4” if you order and I’m wearing a size 25 so they fit true to size.

The sweater is a cardigan from Loft and is on major sale right now! I love it because of the creamy color and just a touch of red and pink trim so it would be perfect for Valentine’s Day, or any day! I would also wear this with off white jeans for a more spring time look!

Soon, I’ll be doing a full trend report for spring, but in case you’re wondering…the trends for spring 2023 include sheer fabrics, low rise waists (finally they’re back and I’m all in), sequins, cobalt blue, boudoir detailing (think corsets and lace), black for summer, heart motifs, (groundbreaking) florals, fringe and more fringe, candy pink, ombre in red, orange and yellow, tailoring in soft shades such as green and grey,

It seems that Covid is officially over when it comes to fashion and we’re going to be dressing up (in color) and going out!

Enjoy the boutique below if you’re looking to do a little closet refresh. Many of the items are reasonably priced with a few fun exceptions! I especially love the short trench coat from Abercrombie and the beautiful and very feminine sling back heel from Veronica Beard!

Thanks so much for reading! Leave a comment and let me know what trends you’ll be wearing for spring 2023 (if any)!

#February Wishlist #Spring 2023 Trends #fashion

1 note · View note

funnyducky666 · 2 years

Text

“Can I… Can I help Clean your wings?” You said looking up from your phone on the couch. Keigo was in the kitchen simply grabbing a cup and minding his own business after a long shift. He was comfy but not out of his ‘uniform’, he turns around and cocks a confused eyebrow, Keigo didn’t understand where that had came from.

“What…Why?” He says softly pouring his drink and then heads to you. “I was just scrolling through my tumblr and I follow the Hawks tag… there are like ‘Head canons’ of you and I just wanted to test one since y’know we’re seeing each other …” you might as well been talking to a wall cause he had no clue half of the words you said meant. Plopping on the couch next you he tries to peep over at your phone to try and get a better understanding of what you were talking about, “Noo just answer the question dummy.” You said in a slight whining tone.

He sighs and runs his finger through his hair, you’ve touched them plenty of times, casually or sexually, what’s the difference now? “I mean… Yeah I wouldn’t mind the help.” He turns his head to you and softly smiles. It was just that it felt like a bigger step for him, though you guys had mutually agreed to just friends who fuck often, it was a form of trust to help him in a vulnerable way. His back to you, trusting you wouldn’t hurt him or his feathers.

You both sat in silence for a moment as you looked at him expectingly, “O-Oh right now?” You feverishly nodded your head and got up taking the drink from his hand and offering him your hand to get him up. He chuckled and took your hand, before you had gotten the chance to start walking Keigo cupped your cheek and smiled fondly at you. He’s done this maybe once or twice the past year you’ve been sleeping together, and since it was so rear it made you blush immensely to which he always found so cute.

You thought maybe you should change it up and surprise him, you molded you hand over his and turned you head to kiss his palm, I’m doing so his eyes go soft and he takes your hand again and takes you to his room. He get to his dresser and you sit in the edge of the bed, he pulls out a black T-shirt and boxers then he starts stripping,his back to you. Biting your lip you quickly getting up hearing his silent asking for the zipper to be pulled.

As you walked up behind him your hand guided up the small of his back, then up between his wings, then lands on the piece of metal slowly pulling it down and watch as the muscles under the fabric start to show. Once off his upper half you couldn’t help but plant soft feather like kisses from the base of his neck to center between his wings. His shiver left his hairs on end in the wake of your touches, “Y-Y/N, heh I thought you were just gonna help in the shower, if you wanted to have me laid out then you shoul”

“No No, birdie I wanna help I just can’t help it with how gorgeous you are. Soft skin, beautiful wings, handsome face… I’m sorry I just want to admire you.” You said the last part softly and trailed your fingers along his arms. This made him unexpectedly blush and his wings flutter, the soft and intimate moment was something new for the both of you, the kind words where heavy on his heart strings. He cleared his throat clear the dense silence and finished stripping down.

Once naked he turned to you, helping take off you top and bottoms as well. The soft glow of the setting sun on the city building providing a beautiful yellow and orange lightning contouring his face structure and defining his muscles. You swore you felt your heart skip a few beats, suddenly feeling insecure about your own body as it felt like you were in the presence of a literal god.

Your arms came across you stomach and chest in attempt to hide away from his roaming eyes. Not feeling worthy of being even acknowledged by him in the slightest, “Y/N, hey don’t ever…” he moved your arms away from your body and took those few moments for his own selfish reason to admire how you shined brighter than the light seeping through the blinds.

Both of you swallowing thickly, you leaned in and pecked him on the lips before he had just pulled you close and locked your lips together with his. The slow and passion in it was making you melt in his hold. You hummed and gently pulled away. “The shower Bird—, Keigo. Let’s get you washed up?” He nods but doesn’t let go, “Feels like it’s been a while since you last called me by my name huh? Always been Birdie,birdbrain, dumbass, and the occasional master~” you had a kind smile on your face that quickly played into a playful frown.

“oh hush it.” You said with a playful slap to his chest, you rolled your eyes finally taking him into the bathroom starting the water to fill his big tub. After about 30 minutes and finishing cleaning his wings he sighed as if he was holding in his breath. You wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the crook of his neck. It was quiet the rest of the time, “Y/N…” he broke the silence, “I’ve been really trying to hold back… but I really have thought about it and I was thinking that… I love you.”

You froze, your body running warmer than the water you sat in and you held onto taking in the words. The words you never thought you’d hear, the words you two had agreed to never feel or say in this relationship. They made your brain run millions of miles an hour, though you heard so much Keigo heard silence, your response still processing but he took it as rejection as you ignoring him. He got up from the tub grabbing a towel and started to leave, you watched. “Keigo wait please. I’m sorry, I-I love you too… it was just so suddenly stated and…I’m sorry.”

He stopped, looked to you ,walked back over to the tub, and being that close you noticed the gloss in his eyes. He was starting to get teary eyed at the thought you didn’t love him back, but when you confessed they dropped on his cheeks as tears of happiness. He felt relieved, he would never find someone else like you who made him feel more special than just being the #2 hero, Hawks the playboy, Keigo the troubled child, Hawks the face of sex appeal. Your smile on your face was for the absolute love and care you felt for him, knowing that he felt so strongly made you feel like you could do anything.

You two made one another feel whole. Made one another realize that you’re more than what everyone plays you out to be.

Complete. With Keigo Takami.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was random outta my own head, I’m working on other writings rn! So stay tuned for those! K byeee. Also pt2? Maybe? no?

#mha #bnha #bnha x reader #mha smut #my hero academia #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha hawks #hawks bnha #mha keigo takami #bnha keigo #bnha smut #hawks x reader #hawks stan

262 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs