#plush: gloomy bear (it/its)

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I made name necklaces for Sappy, Gir, Gloomy Bear, and Pikachu!

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Chapter 3

Masterlist here, Moodboard here

Sapsorrow Masterlist

Word Count: 8,054

Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope. Slow-slow-slow burn. Series Inspiration link: The Storyteller Episode 8

Song Suggestions: The Green Light - Je Suis Parte

(Image Source: Here)

Your sleep that night was restless; your body awakening much before the first dawn of sunlight cracked through the dark of the night to awaken the many unique birds within the lands of Kuraigana. Their voices were yet to cry out and alert the castle and surrounding keep of the morn, yet you continue to lay sleepless amongst your plush bedsheets.

Huffing out a breath of frustration, you shook your head and rose from your reclined position against your pillows and thrust the duvet from your body. One foot falling over the mattress first, followed by the other, you slid your feet into your sleep shoes tucked beneath your large bed and hoisted yourself to your feet. Reaching over to your armchair, your fingers found your lengthy silk negligée and wrapped it around your body and tied it firmly around your front. The lengthy pale sleeves draped around your wrists, you found your hairbrush and began angrily detangling your sleep-deprived hair from their matts.

Why did he look at you like that? Why was he so intimately holding you? Why did your breath hitch as your eyes met? His eyes, the amber hue bearing such intensity and longing- was that what it was? Surely you were mistaken. Those were the thoughts keeping you from a blissful slumber, clawing like a beast at the walls of their cage, the thoughts rendered you paralyzed and incapable of rest.

You angrily thrust your hairbrush down within your firm grip, a loud clack of the metal base echoing against your vanity benchtop. You clenched your eyes firmly shut, pursing your lips and biting back a frustrated scream.

It had been years since any action was outside the realms of your control, this one being the first to draw a physical outburst to occur since you were a teenager. You sucked in a deep breath while closing your eyes, rotating your neck to rid it of its sleep-deprived, rigor-mortis akin stiffness. Reopening your eyes, your pupils narrowed in as you focussed on your puffed eye-bags below your irises.

“You came here to do a job. You are a governess,” you reassured yourself, affirming yourself sternly in the mirror, “You are strong. You are safe. It is just a job.” Your looped affirmations continued as you attempted to repress memories from arising, but to no avail. You knit your brows together, shaking your head to rid the memories from coming to light before your eyes before the sun was yet to create the dawn. 

“You are in control here,” you again spoke aloud, rising from your seated position against your vanity. You claimed a small unlit lantern hanging limply from the door, unhooking it from the wall and drawing out a small box of matches to ignite the flame atop the wick. Shaking the flame away from the matchstick, you discarded the small piece of twig into the basket below your desk and fled from the room causing you sleeplessness. 

The halls became ignited by the small flame in your lantern, illuminating the portraiture littering the gloomy halls. Several generations of the lord you unwittingly bound yourself to with the Sapsorrow ring lay staring vacantly at you as your slippers peppered the ground with your featherfall footsteps. 

You were unsure as to where your feet were carrying you until you found yourself amongst the large wooden shelves in the large library. Each book was meticulously cataloged and alphabetised, the colors on the leatherbound spines ranging from the deepest of emeralds to dark magenta with golden twine. As each of the spines of the books drew you in by their pigments and binds, your left hand unconsciously flew to the shelves and danced among the pages. Tracing upon the many spines as you wandered aimlessly amongst the shelves, your fingers met with a vacant space in the nook; your fingertips falling through the space housing a book that no longer resides within its crease. 

Looking at the space for any semblance of literature navigation, you noticed you were in the section marked “S”, somewhere tucked between knowledge of Sangiovese vines and winemaking, and Sailing the uncharted waters of the grand line. 

“Sapsorrow,” you spoke aloud in a small whisper, gasping as your fingers collected the moved dust, “that was what he said,” you pressed your sleep-deprived memory for a semblance of thought: “Ten rings of the Sapsorrow queen, all riddled with charm, none can break from its challenger’s gleam, or cause the commissioner harm.”

“What does that mean?” you gasped once more, drawing up your fingertips to look at the dust collected, rolling the powder and webs within your hand, “there’s ten of them. What is a Sapsorrow? Ten of them?” you looked down onto the moss-coloured stone sitting innocently atop its golden circlet of destiny, “Like ten fingers?” 

Turning again to the bookshelf and looking at the vacant space against the shelves, you huffed out another breath of exasperation and grumbled; “It would have been useful to have a book on the matter. Perhaps that is what my betrothed-,” you rolled your eyes at the taste of the title over your palate, "-is doing with the book. If there even is one.”

You growled beneath your breath, another attempt at ridding yourself of the memories of the night prior. It was dancing behind your closed eyes slower than it occurred in reality. Each small brush of his fingertips over your body as he took your measurements, the small rasp in his voice as he spoke to you, his humility in joining his forehead against your own, and the way he held you against himself. You were going mad, reading into something that was truly not there. 

Shaking your head and breathing in deeply, you attempted to calm yourself down and reached for the nearest book at the end of the row. Your brows furrowed as you looked at the title, a small curious smile prickling at the corners of your cheeks. 

“Waltzing: A Pirate’s Guide to Entangling with the Upper Classes,” you spoke, your eyes lightening as your smile deepened. You examined the books cover for any other information, finding no further explanation, “there’s no author? Curiouser and curiouser.” 

You took the book to the corner of the room, sitting atop a plush crimson armchair and placing your lantern on the side table to illuminate the corner of the room. You huddled against the suede arm of the chair, bringing the pages closer to the light as you turned the first chapter: “Swords and Steps.” Your face became more bright as diagrams of pirate gentleman holding his sword upright and extended, followed by the placement of an ornately dressed woman spinning within his arms; the imagery of the evening’s prior events falling away from you the further you dove into the pages. 

The lantern’s wick began to flicker, the candle warning you it was in its final moments as the hours in the library began to fall away from you. You were barely aware of the dawn beginning to filter through the curtains, the first light a warm pink dusting the marble floor with its presence. The only sense able to bring you from your hypnosis within the pages was the scent of the extinguished wick as the stale smoke danced over the benchtop. 

Shaking your head, you attempted to again return to the present as you closed the pages of the book together and rose to your feet; hastily sauntering over to the aisles to return it to its rightful position within the shelves. You didn’t even know where to begin navigating the halls, unsure how you managed to draw yourself from your wing into the library to begin with. The patter of your heart began thumping heavily against your ribcage, anxiety raising at the thought of being caught within your bed clothes by a member of staff, or worse: Zoro and Perona. 

As the light of the sun began awakening the walls you wandered earlier, a strange mud-covered silhouette of a person holding a bouquet of flowers at eye level remained in the sunlight cascading over the front marble steps. They were picking at the thorns, clipping the stems and arranging the florals and vines in a fashionable style with pliers and ribbons of twine wrapping around the amassment of petals. 

The figure almost didn’t look human; bipedal humanoid, surely, but not human. The amount of dirt, muck, fur and feathers eclipsing their body under their cluster made them look beastly. You heard a deep rumbly hum, the creature before you appearing to be singing softly to themselves a tune you could not recognise. This was the only clue that allowed you to presume their gender, the smoothness of their deep voice almost serenading you with its comfort. Rolling slightly on your heels to rid yourself of your nerves, you cautiously approached the figure while holding your arms laced over your chest to shield his view from your sleep-clothes. 

“Excuse me, sir?” you called to them, their body’s stiffening in response and raising the flowers up further to cover their face, “No need for alarm, I am the Governess here.” He seemed to remain statuesque, rigid in his stance and not making a sound. You grew more curious, stepping forward again to get a better look at the arrangement, noticing it was similar to the ones placed atop your table and decorating your room. 

“I know who you are, my lady,” he spoke slowly. His cadence seemed familiar to you, albeit his face was hidden, “You should not be up at this hour. Is there something troubling you?” You were taken aback by his direct approach, but it was a welcome surprise. 

“I was unable to sleep, sir. My thoughts are my own, although I have been having trouble ruling over them of late,” you replied honestly. He nodded behind the flowers, your eyes trailing over him and studying his attire. He was clad in hessian pants, his boots trekking mud into the cobblestone galley. His torso was clad in a pale linen with mud, sticks and leaves masking the pigment of his skin from your eyes with how heavily caked he was beneath the thick sludge. 

“If I may be so bold as to ask for your help,” you asked him, stepping further into his proximity. The scent falling off him in waves was the earthiness of the mud mixed with the petals clutched over his face. As you drew in closer, you noticed he was wearing a broad straw hat, his face shielded by the wide brim, while his nose and lips were covered by a piece of woven cloth. He held his sight fixed to his hands, electing not to make eye contact with you. 

“You may ask anything of me, my lady,” he responded, his eyes remaining holding to the floor beneath him. You allowed a soft smile to rise against your lips, a small sigh electing to release itself from your chest at his candor. 

“I am unaware of my surroundings. I have been here a fortnight now, this being the first night I have opted to explore the grounds rather than remaining sleepless in my bedchambers,” you confessed to him, nodding as you spoke, “I have no idea where my wing is from here, and I assume you are a member of staff here.”

“I am something of the like, my lady,” he admitted to you, nodding while actively listening to your words as they fled from your lips, “I admit I was on my way to your chambers presently.” Your eyes widened, looking at the bouquet clutched firmly within his hands then back to his face.

“So, I’ve finally caught the culprit,” you laughed at him, “just as you have caught me in naught but my nightdress. Those are meant for me, are they not?” His rigidity did not halt, nor the tingle in his fingertips dancing amongst the vines. 

“You’re the one who brings the ever changing arrangements to my bedchambers, am I correct in my assumption?” you asked him while fixing your gaze on the white puffs of roses clutched within his muddy fingertips. 

“That you are, my lady,” he again admitted, bowing in a low stoop as a performer would to receive their applause. You smiled warmly, reaching for his forearm and lacing your right arm within his. 

“Chaperone me,sir. Please lead me to return to my wing,” you asked him with a small laugh, uncaring for the dirt falling from his sleeve onto your own. 

“I will make a mess of the halls, my lady. I should not be above the cellars while dressed like this,” he spoke in a warning tone, “I don’t enjoy cleaning up the boot prints I trek in at this hour.”

“Tush,” you dismissed his warning, tugging at his forearm, “I cannot wait for you to strip yourself of your tarnished clothes, bathe and escort me to my wing. I am in my nightdress, sir,” His eyes widened at your comment, his eyes almost holding a honey color displayed from its angle to you. 

“I would not desire tarnishing your own clothes with my mess, my lady,” he sighed as you both witnessed some mud falling from his shirt onto your sheer chemise. You smiled at his halt while bringing your other hand to fall atop his dirt-caked forearm. “Please, sir. I cannot have the lord of the house seeing me like this. Nor our shared wards.”

“Is not the lord of your house your betrothed?” he asked you, his brows furrowing as he spoke his warning.

“That he is, sir,” you nodded your confirmation while laughing once more, “all the more reason for the both of us to scurry on to my wing so we can both be rid of this predicament.” He hummed in response, shaking his head slightly with a small chuckle. You sighed in relief as he began to shepherd you towards your room, your body physically relaxing aside his as he guided you through the halls. You made idle conversation, the morning rising alongside the chirps of local birds warning you the day has been broken and to be thrust into your day. 

“How long have you been working the land here in Kuraigana? Your arrangements speak wonders to your skill, sir,” you praised him, watching as his smile began to upturn in the creases of his eyes. His nose and lips remained hidden beneath a woven cloth, his eyes being the only human part you could gauge the emotions of.

“I have been working with agriculture since I first laid eyes on the keep. There’s something about the soil here that is particularly riveting. The grapes thrive here,” he expressed with such unbridled passion, you could feel his joy at working the soil of the gloomy land, “they grow large, their skin dense and firm. Perfect for a variety of vines and vintages.”

“A viticulturist also? My, you have an array of talents. What do you grow here?” you ushered him to continue expressing his passion, your interest in the land growing by the interaction with the creature guiding you to your wing.

“I do enjoy watching the vines grow, yes. I also have had a hand in crafting the varieties into wine,” he admitted, nodding beneath his wide, straw hat. 

“A wild ferment, perhaps? A malolactic for chardonnay and sangiovese?” you asked him, prodding him and probing with your pointed questions. He chuckled at your comments, shaking his head at your comments.

“You are well versed in the art of conversation, my lady,” he commented accusingly, with a small whisper of humor beneath his words, “you need not humor me with your polite words.”

“Sir,” you furrowed your brows at the creature, halting your steps, “if I was not interested in your craft, I would not be asking so many questions,” your confession rendered him almost speechless. You chuckled at his surprise, once again allowing your feet to fall in pace towards your chambers.

“To further spur how truly interested I am in what you have to say, I would simply hum and nod to showcase my active listening while not asking questions,” you continued, your warm smile continuing to power your words, “my favorite phrase to use in that particular situation is: ‘that certainly sounds interesting’.”

He chuckled at your comment as he continued leading you to your chambers, the door within your sight as he unlaced his arm from within yours and opened your front door for you.

“A gentleman amongst the staff of Kuraigana?” you praised him with your words, prompting him to hand his head with a small huffed chuckle at your words. 

“I aim to be, my lady,” he uttered, walking within your bedchambers and beginning to remove the prior arrangement of flowers atop your desk and replace it with another arrangement. Unbothered by his presence in your chamber, you began tending to yourself by finding an appropriate uniform for the day and hooking it over your changing screen beside your bed. You continued to hear his footfalls against the room adjacent to yours, yourself feeling secure behind the screen enough to begin changing into your uniform to begin your day.

You threw off your chamise, followed by your night dress, slippers and socks before weaving yourself into your chosen attire for the day. A simple long dress, practical in nature with a cinched waist and a modest neckline: exactly how a governess should be seen by members of the household staff, not scantily clad in your bed attire. 

“I am heading out, my lady,” the strange chaperone informed you, prompting you to hasten your pace of lacing your boots. 

“Wait, sir. Allow me to thank you for escorting me back to my wing,” you called to him, hastily making your way towards the table setting in front of you. The flowers were breathtaking, this one filled with difficult to collect flowers with sweet scents and crystal-like dew drops. You carefully selected one from the bunch, a simple bushel of baby’s breath clutched between your fingertips as you carefully pried it from its place amongst the bouquet. 

“This one is for you, sir. Thank you for aiding me in my time of need,” you presented the small bushel of flowers to him; his muddy hand coming out to collect it within his discolored fingertips. 

“Thank you for your kindness, my lady,” he nodded in a small bow, your fingers brushing together slightly at his withdrawal. 

“What may I call you, sir? Surely you have a name, and I would like to know I have a friend here in Kuraigana while I work,” you asked him, your trail of intellect deducing the flurry of thoughts, “or would you prefer to be known simply as ‘Farm-hand’?” 

“Farm-hand,” he repeated back to you, his voice almost laughing, “Farm-hand is fine to me, my lady.”

“If you are to go by this name, please bestow one of a similar likeness to me, Farm-Hand,” you laughed at his candor, as you reached for the metal hairbrush you were using earlier and began hastily smoothing over your tangled locks.

“If I am to be Farm-Hand,” he thought hard, a small hum exiting from his chest, “you ought to be ‘Lost-Lady’. Considering it is too much of a mouthful to address you as ‘woman clad in naught but her nightdress’.”

You laughed again at his comment, before guiding his muddied form outside of your bedchambers. 

“Until tomorrow's flowers, Farm-Hand,” you stooped in your low courtesy and offered him your left hand. He accepted it, bringing down his forehead to brush against the back of your hand atop your knuckles.

“Until the morrow, Lost-Lady,” he raised his forehead from his bowed position and watched as you turned back into your chambers to continue readying yourself for the day, the door shutting with a small click behind you. 

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Mihawk was frozen, his dirtied hands rolling over the small white flowers within his fingertips. He hooked his hand against his mask, drawing back the material to taste the air once more without the filter of material or mud. His beard was no longer scratching behind the mask, the flavor of the air feeling all the more sweet. As he twirled the flowers within his fingers, he sighed at the innocent object dancing in his hand. 

His left hand shook, feeling the warm tingles of the memories of your flesh joining briefly with his as he clutched yours within his fingers. The ghost of radiant heat against his forehead remained alongside the memory of such a warmth you presented to him, a presumed low-ranking member of his staff. 

He looked down at his attire, the mud covering his body causing him to physically hiss out a verbal reprimand at himself.

“So stupid to lose footing beneath the vines,” he chastised his appearance, “especially to collect the insignificant little baby’s breath-.” His words halted as he drew up the pale flowers you had gifted him in return once more, a soft smile rising to his lips. 

“What have I ever done in this life to deserve such sweetness?” he whispered to himself, a sighed laugh falling from his lips as he shook his head. 

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Sitting with the young pink haired debutante in the courtyard, you noticed her eyes were glazed; her far off expression alerting you to her being not overly present for this afternoon’s private lesson. 

“Perona, dear?” you called to her, placing your cup back on the saucer. She hummed in response, slowly blinking her eyes but remaining away with the ghosts that haunt her. You sighed deeply, rising to your feet and moving behind your chair. You slowly wedged the chair beneath the circular dining table and walked over to crouch in front of her. 

“Perona,” you softly spoke, reaching to claim her hands laced within her lap beneath your palm. She squeaked, looking down into your eyes and uttered a hasty, “yes, my lady?” 

“There you are, you’re back,” you smiled at her, prompting a blush to rise and litter her pale cheeks with its hue. You smoothed your thumb over her knuckles to reassure her she wasn’t keeping you waiting. 

“I’m sorry my lady, they-,” she began, rapidly blinking as she attempted to articulate her thoughts to place them within the air verbally, “-they have been saying some unusual things to me. It’s been a bit tricky to ignore them.” You quirked your head to the side, not completely processing what she was admitting to you. 

“Oh?” You prodded her, rising to your feet and tugging lightly on her hand to usher her to her feet, “and what do they have to say today? Only good things, I hope.” Her teeth drew outwards in a straight line, cringing out a small apprehensive wince of a smile. 

“Not exactly,” she admitted while rising to her feet in front of you. Her smile only drew more apprehension from you, curiosity now being eclipsed by concern at her words. You nodded to her to continue relaying her thoughts to you, her nodding while adding; “they say he’s found a way. Something about the moon being first, I think. Help? He’s getting help- no-... asking for help? They’re not making much sense.”

You knit your brows further in the center of your forehead, her words not drawing any conclusion to your already troubled mind from sleeplessness earlier. 

“A beast? No... A Crocodile has the moon?” she nodded with her eyes shut tightly, focusing on the voices as they presented themselves to her. She continued shaking her head, the many voices falling over her mind and corrupting her thoughts with their nonsensical visions. 

“Perona,” you called to her, her aura beginning to turn a different hue to indicate her beginning to be overwhelmed by other worldly voices. You took both of her hands in yours and gave them a firm squeeze, “Perona, sweetheart.” She opened her eyes, glossy and a different hue than her usual vibrancy.

“The moon,” she uttered, “the moon has commenced.”

“Perona!” your voice held an elevated firmness to your tone, immediately snapping her from her daze and coming back to the world she views as reality. 

“I’m sorry, Governess,” she uttered quickly, bowing her head to you and beginning to tremble a little, “they’ve just been enthusiastic lately. They are very interested in that.” She nodded to your left hand, your ring shining its smoked, green gemstone within the sunlight. 

“They say,” she teeters off her voice, shaking her head as the voices begin to eclipse her form and shroud her mind with their nonsensical visions. She allowed herself to snap out of it, taken aback by their final informational relay, “there’s a party? Oh! And there’s a dress for you.”

The blood in your face physically leapt from your head and paled. He’d done it. He’d made the first dress, the doom of your wedding day approaching with more haste than you would have desired. You were to be a bride, donned in dresses of the finest make and forced down the aisle with the knife of destiny thrust against your back to usher you onwards-.

“-Not one of those, my lady,” Perona broke you from your thoughts, her eyes wide and serious as they met with your widened gaze. She gently squeezed your hands within her own, reassuring you with her kind expression, “they say the party is to announce your engagement, and Mihawk has had a dress made especially for you to wear to it.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, the color once again returning to your cheeks. Perona giggled at your apprehension, lacing her arms within your own and beginning to draw you closer to the sage-colored hedge-ends to look over the impressive grounds of Kuraigana. 

“You want to go and see it? They say he has it ready for you, if you like,” she shrugged, her enthusiasm sparking at the corners of her cheeks as she physically began to shake with anticipation. You allowed a softness to fall over your body, your young debutante beginning to break down your walls and squeeze herself into the realms of personal friendship. 

“I think I will wait until he sends for me,” you smiled at her, “for now, we need to continue with your lessons.”

“Why, my lady?” she whined, a small semblance of childish anger falling from her pouted lips, “I don’t want a husband, I don’t want to be a lady.”

“Do you desire to wear beautiful gowns, dance with handsome men and woo them with your radiant beauty?” you sighed, your eyes rolling with a soft smirk arising against your lips. She immediately snapped out of her childish tantrum.

“Yes, my lady,” she softly spoke while nodding, her pink-hair bouncing with the gentle bob of her head. 

“Then lessons in being a lady are to continue until I’m satisfied you are able to showcase my reputation alongside your own,” you chastised her with your smirk rising into a pleasant smile. 

“Yes, my lady,” Perona sighed, beginning to lead you throughout the beautifully maintained hedge-ends. The map of the maze lay unpolished, dust and dirt falling over the sign and making the object unable to be read.

“I shall talk to the Farm-Hand about that tomorrow,” you spoke under your breath. Perona looked to the side, conversing with an astral projection beside her, “We have a farm-hand? I thought that was-... oh…”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“WHAAAAAAAA-?” the den-den-mushi split the lord of Kuraigana’s eardrum with the verbal cry form the other end of the transmission. 

“Silence your incessant screaming, Clown,” Mihawk growled into the receiver. 

“You called Me, Hawk-Eyes,” the voice called on the other end, Mihawk’s migraine beginning to worsen its throb against his temples. He should never have done this, requested aid like this. From them. 

“That I did, Clown,” he admitted in a defeated sigh, bringing his index and middle fingers up to rotate around his temple. 

“Stop calling me ‘Clown’. I have a name,” the voice spat back at the gloomy warlord as he sat neatly dressed against his desk, “and if you’re calling in a favor, I require to have my full title spoken to me.” Mihawk sighed again, his defeated eyes closing as his humility began to overcome his body. 

“Captain Buggy D Clown,” Mihawk uttered darkly into the microphone at the end of the den-den-mushi, “I need you to make something for me. I know you can do it, I’ve seen something similar at your big-top. It needs to be starlight. A gown for a bride as radiant as the stars that litter the night sky. A dress so spectacularly clustered with diamonds of glittery stars, people would be amazed that something so beautiful could be found within the realms of mortality.”

A brief pause occurred, static from the other end of the receiver before the clown once again spoke up.

“Mihawk, baby,” the voice taunted him, “you had me at ‘I need you’.”

At that, the other end of the receiver clicked to indicate the end of the conversation, the clown striking a bargain with the darkened lord of Kuraigana, who’s very core was wrecked with absolute hopelessness. 

“Two calls down,” he sighed, rotating his neck to rid it of the tension arising within it, “the drunken red-head is next.”

Lord Dracule Mihawk understood this undertaking was seemingly impossible, the three gowns he was to present to his governess- …no, his betrothed, was no easy feat. He did not initially intend on asking for aid, but his resources and contacts were depleted with such haste, there was no way he would be able to commence such an undertaking on his own. 

The Crocodile managed to sense there was a difference in his usually stoic and disinterested demeanor, which prompted Mihawk to relay his troubles onto the larger gentleman. A cigar clenched within his pearled teeth, his eyes held amusement rather than their usual boredom at Mihawk’s predicament. 

“I have some material you may enjoy, former warlord,” he spoke with such confidence, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the notion he had something to hold over the golden-eyed swordsman, “a shipment delivered balls of silk and satins to my keep. Pale as the coldest chill of the first drops of winter,” his taunts continued as he blew a puff of cigar smoke into Mihawk’s face, “it almost looked as radiant as the moon.”

“Almost,” Mihawk spat, his eyes narrowed and anger growing more tangible, “almost will not do. It needs to be exact, precise, executed to the highest quality for my bride-.”

“-Your Bride? Mihawk,” Sir Crocodile’s sinister grin split his reptilian face upwards, “You never took me as the type to marry. Concubines? Of course. They have their uses. But Bride?” He removed his cigar from his teeth and pressed the butt-end with his thumb into the ashtray, “A Bride to the lord of Kuraigana. She must be some woman.”

“Indeed, that she is,” he admitted, his anger only remaining within its elevation at the taunts from the larger man. Sir Crocodile hummed, stooping lower to Mihawk’s stature, and smiled further upwards to crinkle his cheeks.

“I will have it made for you, Hawk-Eyes,” he hissed into his face, his shadow from his larger stature doing nothing to intimidate the confident swordsman, “and I expect a favor in return for it. Send her measurements to me, and I will have a hundred hands stitching it for you.”

“Mihawk, you gloomy old prick, that you? What are you calling me for at this hour?” the lazy voice of the overly confident red-headed captain asked at the other end of the receiver. Mihawk sighed, his anxiety at requesting the final object from his oldest rival getting the better of him the longer he remained in silence. 

“Mihawk, if you don’t speak soon, I’m going to hang up the call and go back to my drinking-” Shank’s voice was halted by Mihawk uttering a single word.

“Lingerie.” Silence. Naught a word was spoken for several seconds; the anxiety elevating higher in Mihawk’s chest the longer the silence remained stagnant. An uproar of laughter was thrust into the receiver, several members of the red-hair pirates thrusting their jovial laughter into the air at a single word. As the laughter stifled back, Shanks spoke up once more.

“Lingerie, Mihawk? You want some lingerie? Is it for you, or is it for you?” the red-head captain jested, taunting the dark-haired warlord with his words. Mihawk shook his head, notably too far deep now to pull away from his request now. 

“Red-Haired Shanks,” Mihawk began, the verbal shushing from the redhead on the other end to hush his crew to silence as he heard the request of the former warlord. 

“Yes, old Hawkie? Go on, relay your request for intimate items onto me. See what I can do with your raunchy thoughts, you sick bastard-.” Shanks’ words were halted as he heard the tone of voice depicted by the usually stoic gentleman.

“Sapsorrow, Shanks,” Mihawk gasped in desperation. The audible sound of the thud of footsteps and the voices of the crew fell away from the speaker, indicating the redhead was actively moving away from the campground.

“You still have that thing? Mihawk, you should’ve cast the cursed thing into the seas. Mine was at least swallowed by the sea-beast while I protected the boy,” Shanks hushed an elevated whisper into the receiver. 

“I know,” Mihawk uttered, his brows knitting further into his face as he cursed himself of such stupidity. After another moment of silence, Shanks spoke again.

“And your betrothed requested Lingerie to be a condition of her intention to wed. My, Hawk-Eyes, you’ve at least got a good one,” he chuckled into the receiver, “go on, lay it on me. What conditions needs to be met with this one?”

“Gold,” Mihawk confessed into the mouthpiece of the receiver, “Gold as heated and radiant as the sun, beams of dawn and cracks of dusk. Admittedly, I am unsure where to begin with this request.” More silence followed on the other end of the receiver, Mihawk feeling the anxiety once again claw at his throat with anticipation.

“Do you have her-... I’m assuming it’s a her, yes?” Shanks asked, his voice giddy and boyish; elevated with a twinkle of mischief and excitement.

“Yes,” Mihawk hummed his gruff confession into the receiver.

“Hah!” Shanks laughed triumphantly, “Wonderful. Do you have her measurements?” Mihawk relayed his governess’ measurements to the one-armed Captain, hearing the thump of sandals footsteps falling against the sandy shores of Shank’s island’s shores, crunching beneath his heels.

“Beckmann,” Shanks called his voice away from the receiver, “Beckmann, you’re not going to believe this-... Mihawk, give me a moment, would you? Beckmann!” Mihawk’s expression was not amused, his eyes narrowing beneath his lengthy dark eyelashes. 

“Beckmann, bring me my anvil, pliers and soldering pick! All the gold we’ve got on us and then some-... Mihawk,” Shanks laughed into the receiver, his voice brimming with absolute glee, “Oh, Mihawk. You’ve made my day.”

“I’m glad one of us is getting a semblance of joy from this request,” Mihawk sarcastically spat into the receiver.

“Oh, lighten up. You’ll be getting some joy out of this once I’m done with it, Hawkie,” Shanks laughed again into the mouthpiece, several clangs and elevated voices being spoken into the mouthpiece.

“All the gold on us, Captain? That seems a bit rich comin’ from him. Isn’t he a lord or somethin’?” Beckmann’s raspy voice held a distant quietness away from the mouthpiece. 

“Yeah, but I’m gonna make something out of it, Becks. Lingerie for the sword-wielding lord’s future misses. Gotta get out the good stuff for this one-... Hawk-Eyes, are you still there?” Shanks called back into the receiver, Mihawk feeling his anxiety beginning to calm at the notion that Shanks was willing to participate in the task. 

“I’m here, one-arm,” Mihawk lazily drawled into the microphone, exasperation relayed on every syllable. Shanks chuckled at his title, disregarding it with glee. 

“I’m gonna make your future misses something you will both never forget,” He laughed into the transponder, his boyish charm prompting the swordsman to almost crack a small and apprehensive smile.

As the call of the den-den-mushi went quiet, Mihawk sighed and lulled his head back on his arched backrest. He felt relieved to have the weight of his predicament shared with his allies, but also apprehensive at the requests they would omit from him in return. And the teasing. He loathed being on the receiving end of taunts and jabs from the three of them, particularly the idiot clown.

He propped his neck back upright and glanced his amber eyes over to the desktop, honing in on the small bushel of baby’s breath you had offered him earlier. He reached his fingertips forward, his index finger and thumb grasping the twig holding the cluster of white flowers.

“Lost-Lady,” he smiled at the innocent balls of petals clinging against the sprigs. He chuckled at your earlier interaction, how open you were with him about your feelings of late. He was already thinking of another arrangement to create to decorate your halls with his flowers and vines: sweet jasmine, honeysuckle, bluebells and daisies were amongst his choices for your following tabletop. Much less of a risk of becoming covered head to toe in mud again.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“M’Lady, Hawk’s lookin’ for ya,” Zoro huffed a small grunt, extending his left forearm to you as you and Perona entered the galley. You shook your head at Zoro, your eyes glaring at him to wordlessly reprimand his pronunciation of your title. He furrowed his brows at first, before his eyes widened in clarity as it dawned on him. He shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes within his skull and bowing sloppily and lowly to you.

“Forgive me, my lady,” His voice, absolutely dripping with the sticky molasses of sarcasm, “I extend my most sincere apologies, my lady. Would my lady prefer me to kneel on the ground to receive a verbal reprimand, or dost my lady prefer me bent over her lap? Perhaps at such an insult to my lady, I should be drawn and quartered. A cat and nine tails whipping their iron slashes into my chest for insulting you in such a way, my lady-.” 

“-That’s quite enough, Zoro,” you reprimanded him, unlacing your hand from within Perona’s arched elbow. Your brow descended into the middle of your face, your chin extended into the air as you circled him, “and here I thought you were making waves as a gentleman, but you are remaining evermore a petulant brat.”

“I aim to please, my lady,” the corner of his lip curled upwards into a small smirk. Perona refused to react to the situation for fear attention from her governess would be drawn to her rather than the display offered by Zoro. 

“You are doing a poor job it today, Trainee,” you snarled at him, causing his smirk to widen as his eyes narrowed at your challenge. 

“Bein’ a gentleman?” Zoro scoffed at you, his lip darting out to dampen his bottom lip as he tested you further.

“Pleasing me,” you quipped back, your challenging eyes and candor immediately bringing a warm blush up the swordsman’s neck and teasing the lobes of his ears. He remained speechless, Perona allowing a silent giggle to threaten to pour over her lips. As the silence began to build with tense air, you clicked your neck and approached the young swordsman.You were now within a foot of the tall gentleman in training, continuing to warn him with your expression.

The three of you were so caught up in this moment of challenge, you remained blissfully ignorant yet again to the silent approach of the lord of the house watching from the shadows. He was on the edge of his hypothetical seat as he witnessed Zoro challenge you, but now watching on with amusement at how you were effortlessly managing him. 

“Try again,” you ordered him. There was not a sound that dared break your challenge of the green-haired swordsman within the galley. He sighed deeply, bowing his head formally to you and closing his eyes. 

“My lady,” he uttered slowly and cautiously, “the lord of Kuraigana has requested your presence in the parlor. Perona and I are to escort you to meet with the formal dressmakers for a fitting.” He almost made it through the sentence before allowing his distaste for the whole situation known. 

“We’re all to have a fitting?” Perona squeaked in joy, “We all get a pretty outfit for it?”

“Yeah,” Zoro huffed, his brows falling against the arch of his nose to indicate his displeasure, “we’re all meant to get one.for it. He’s invited everyone already. They’ll be here by the weekend.” You allowed a shocked breath to escape your chest, not understanding such haste in such a ceremony. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose, closing your eyes in deep thought before speaking again. 

“Zoro,” you began, calming your body and attempting to regain control of your uncontrollable circumstances, “escort Perona to the parlor for her fitting. I will be going to my chambers for a small moment,” you cringed a small smile, attempting to stifle the anxiety by gritting through the pain, “unless the lord of the house is here to escort me himself, I will need a moment or two to myself-.”

At that small apprehension, Mihawk made his entrance to where the three of you had met within the galley. Perona withheld her small smile behind her palms, her upturned eyes doing nothing to satisfy her amusement and joy at the swordsman approaching them. Zoro followed Perona’s eyes to lord Mihawk, which in turn alerted you to his presence approaching behind you. You felt the waves of his confident aura falling from him before you turned to meet his gaze. He cleared his throat briefly, honing his gaze on the green-haired swordsman and addressing him.

“You heard your Governess,” he commanded him, turning to Perona and nodding to her, “Off you go to the parlor. Ensure the spatchcock is properly feathered, Perona.”

“Yes, my lord,” she chuckled, taking Zoro’s arm and immediately springing in her steps towards the parlor without a word from Zoro regarding his new bird-related nickname. You remained stationary and rigid in the galley, your chin extended outwards and tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth. Eyes narrowed, you felt him circle your body like a hawk looking over their next catch. 

“I have come to inform you,” he began, remaining behind your back and away from your sight, “I have announced our intentions to wed. There is to be a ball this weekend, held here at the keep,” he paused his words, the tap of his feet indicating his approach in front of you. You closed your eyes, feeling waves of anxiety again rising over your body and filling your head with the thoughts that swirled well into the night. You remained with your eyes tightly closed, clenching your jaw behind your closed lips.

“Betrothed?” He addressed you, halting his prowling in front of you. He extended his hands above your own, hovering over where you had them hanging together in front of you but refusing to bring them down to touch yours. You opened your eyes, your brows furrowing as you looked down at his hand slowly descending and hovering above your own before snapping your gaze back against his amber-colored eyes. 

“Yes, Betrothed?” You asked him, eyes dancing between his irises and searching within them for an indication as to how he was feeling. He sighed, finally bringing his hands down to collect yours and smooth his thumbs over your knuckles softly. You were again taken aback by his softness, unsure as to which place this was coming from. 

“Is there someone I could invite for you to make this transition easier for you?” he whispered in a low rumbly tone, “it is quite the conundrum: coming here to complete a job, only to find yourself bound to your employer in matrimony. What can I do? You may ask anything of me, my lady-... Betrothed.”

Your heart began to race your mind with how frantic and sudden this expression of care for you had been brought on. You took your time to study his face, looking from his brows to his cheekbones, bearded jaw down to his smooth lips beneath his manicured mustache. You drew your gaze back up to his amber-hued orbs and danced your gaze between them.

“I have no one, Betrothed,” you admitted with a small nod, placing one of your palms atop his hand, “you knew this of me from back when I first tutored that arrogant blond boy in shells-town with his iron-jawed father. We discussed this at the gala.” Mihawk arched his brow upwards, deep in thought. 

“Remind me, Betrothed, the mention has fled from me presently,” he asked, bringing his other hand to rest atop the one you just placed atop his. You inhaled deeply, exhaling out your tension at the memory.

“No father, no mother,” you smiled at him, “no sisters, nor brothers. Although, you may be interested in my dowry,” scoffing at the comment, Mihawk rolled his eyes and nodded his chin for you to continue on. “My mother died birthing me, my father died of illness on the road as he ventured over the estate.”

“No friends, nor extended relations?” He inquired, drawing up your hand to lace within his elbow, leading you on towards the parlor at a leisurely pace. 

“None that are alive, nor that you would not already know, I’m sure,” you commented with a polite nod, “you did attend many of the functions I presented my students at.” He hummed in response to your comment, continuing to fall in step with you through the hallways onwards. 

“No former lover to come knocking on my door, betrothed?” Mihawk’s curiosity pulled at the corner of his lip with his brow arched upwards. You halted your step with him, pulling him to a halt and shooting him a warning look. As his eyes met with yours, he understood the tangible emotion clawing at your chest.

“If you are asking what I think you are asking, sir,” you snarled at him, your lip curling upwards at his question, “I am a lady.” His eyes widened at your comment, searching your face for any further emotion to depict your unspoken confession.

“I did not mean to pry into your personal-,” he was halted by your words as you spoke over him, your eyes softening and a small smile rising to your lips at his attempt to flee from an uncomfortable situation he created for himself.

“This title we have been using to address each other,” you commented, again keeping in step with the tall swordsman at your side, “I am no longer comfortable with our mutual use of the phrase. Shall we dream up something else more appropriate together?” 

Mihawk’s breath caught in his throat, hoping you did not catch such a quiver of anticipation falling from him. Why did you have such a hold over him? Why was the way you were speaking to him affecting him like this? Your voice, that sweetness you held in your cadence. It was intoxicating.

“I am sure we will think of something,” he held tight his jaw and remained outwardly stoic. Internally; he was delighting in your willingness to allow him to think of you. You gently squeezed his forearm in support, walking in comfortable silence towards the parlor together. 

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Zoro’s arms were horizontally outstretched, perpendicular to the floor as the tailors began to pin and prod the material he was trying on. Perona beamed at her reflection, her eyes reflecting her joy at the trim and frill of her fine gown. Zoro smirked, closing his eyes and addressing his peer. 

“Mihawk’s infatuation is starting to spill out, isn’t it. He’s not even hiding it anymore,” He chuckled, Perona immediately laughing at the comment before retorting her own comments on the matter.

“Speak for yourself, Moss,” Perona continued to giggle, “your little crush isn’t as hidden as you think it is, either.”

Tag List: @sordidmusings@writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @little-bunnybabe @sukilovesyou @buggyenjoyer @thesailus @under-kitty @acehyacinth @andriannag @one17 @canthebest1 @khaleesihavilliard @quirkyrascal @hungrhay @sentieence @lebanese-afg-ya @captaincupio @szired

[aew-kun]

dagger squad and an assigned build a bear thoughts

after I did the thunderbolts ones I decided I wanted to do it with the daggers too . . !

( me and my lovely sibby @agerefandomrambles spoke about these together ) — I've added sum ideas tho since we spoke bout it lol (I got carried away as always)

Baby Blue Teddy Bear OR Disney Winnie the Pooh Eeyore Plush Gift Bundle with Sound - Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Turn that frown upside down with Eeyore! There's nothing gloomy about this fun soft toy gift set featuring the classic Winnie the Pooh character. Eeyore may not be a fan of much, but you'll be a big fan of how cute he sounds with his 6-in-1 phrases included. Hightail it and add this Eeyore plush to your collection!

I couldn't pick just one for Bob - to be honest I think I could have kept picking more 🙏🏻 — HE WOULD HAVE A CINNAMOROLL ONE TOO THAT WAS GIVEN TO HIM BY PHOENIX AND I WILL STAND BY THAT!!! <333

Peter Rabbit™ Plush AND Build-A-Bear Mini Beans Easter Chick - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Hop to it and bring home Peter Rabbit™ today! This cute mischief maker has soft brown fur and is ready to explore the garden patch with you. Personalise your Peter Rabbit soft toy with his own outfits and accessories to make him even cuter. / Small in size, big in fun! Build-A-Bear Mini Beans are mini versions of our cutest furry friends. Every Mini Bean plush is stuffed with tiny beans and comes with a special wish on its Birth Certificate. Bring home Sunshine Cuddles Chick as a bright and sunny addition to your collection!

The chick was something he's had for a while from Mav & Ice but he refused to even look at until they'd reconciled — Peter Rabbit wears a Hawaiian shirt

Rainbow Clouds Frog OR Rainbow Bee Soft Toy - Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Hop into springtime fun with Rainbow Clouds Frog by your side! This friendly frog plush has soft tie-dye fur that's a delightful swirl of spring colours. Make your Rainbow Clouds Frog soft toy even more colourful by personalising with the sounds, scents, accessories and outfits of your choice! / Rainbow Bee gives hugs sweeter than honey! This colourful bee plush can't wait to buzz its way into your hive of furry friends. Personalise your Rainbow Bee soft toy with its own outfits and accessories to make your plush the bee's knees!

Another one who I couldn't decide on just one stuffie for <333

Highland Cow Soft Toy - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Say howdy to a new furry friend with this adorable Highland Cow stuffed animal! Known for their characteristic horns and diverse coloring, this friendly breed of cattle brings a little Southern charm anywhere it goes. Take your Highland Cow stuffed animal with you and explore your world together!

Yes he got a cowboy hat for it, it's a staple accessory!!! :3

Star Wars™ Darth Vader™ Hologram Teddy Bear - Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Bring home the Empire's most fearsome force with this Darth Vader™ Hologram Bear! This plush inspired by the legendary Sith Lord is now available in an all-new edition to celebrate one of the most iconic characters of all time. This Darth Vader teddy bear has sparkly hologram paw pads and comes with his signature helmet, cape and control chest panel built into his black fur. This master of the dark side is the perfect gift for Star Wars™ fans and collectors of all ages!

He's a big star wars fan in my mind 🙌🏻

How to Train Your Dragon Toothless Plush - Reuben 'Payback' Fitch

Ready to fly? Fire up the fun and take off with your very own Toothless plush! With black plush and green eyes, this playful, loyal and intelligent dragon is ready to become your new best friend. Add a saddle to your Toothless plush to get him ready to take to the skies!

Him and Fanboy often get overexcited over their chosen franchises and talk to each other about it !!!

Promise Pets™ French Bulldog Soft Toy - Javy 'Coyote' Machado

French Bulldogs are playful, smart and adaptable. Known for their trademark ears and wrinkly faces, Frenchies are equal parts charming and feisty! Introduce little ones to the fun and responsibility of pet care by adopting their own French Bulldog plush pet! This French Bulldog soft toy can be personalised with its own outfits and accessories to make their Promise Pet their very own.

[kittyplushy]

hi julianne :3 imagine going shopping with sam, and you two are in the toystore and imagine her seeing you hold up a bear plushie side by side to her hehegehehaahe

sniles so sneetly :) hi arsene! i saw dis last night and i can't stop thinking about it....

like i think at some point, Sam is already used to being shown plushies and being compared to them. So much so she starts developing her own opinion on mascot designs or the general aesthetic of a plushie.

Like she begins judging its patterns, the expressions, accessories, how sturdy it is, or generally if it's something she and julianne wouldn't be embarrassed to have around their house. they generally agree on a lot of aesthetics as Julianne does lean into the more realistic-stylized plushes instead of the candy colored ones. those are fun to own, sure, but they're a bit much sometimes.

they both don't like chiikawa. they're both chiikawa haters bc THAT THING IS BEGGING YOU TO THINK IT'S CUTE WHEN IT COMES OFF AS FORCED AND CRINGE...but Julianne won't resist owning at least one of them. only bc they look cute Situationally.

Actually, here's a scale on how much I think a plushie looks or reminds me of Sam.

2nd on the sliding scale is moreso a placeholder for both vibe and design. while gloomy bear is VERY Sam-like in terms of murderous intent mixed with the silliness of richard scarry, he's PINK and he's more of a mascot than an appeal to how cute bears IRL are but also are dangerous predators. like if you show me a bear plush it may go to either the 2nd on the scale or immediately to No. THE BEAR DOES NOT HAVE TO BE CUTE. IT JUST NEEDS PERSONALITY. So yes, Djungelskog belongs in the 2nd category.

Vermont Teddy Bears may be scruffy and look a bit too vintage but they're extremely unique and blend cuteness with appeal. they also are really distinct as you could tell it's a Vermont Teddy bc of how big and round the ears are. I am totally not biased bc they made the butch bear.

[skadren]

strifentine week day 2. relent / entwine / "if i go with you"

-

The tale lingers in Cloud's mind as he scales the mountain, the air cold and painfully thin even in his mountain-boy lungs. His ma had told it to him many times before, and he'd never quite understood why she favored it so much over all the others.

Or maybe she'd known that Cloud had always preferred doomed, sad, kind characters. Characters who tried their best despite knowing from the start they were fated to fail. Demons and outcasts and scapegoats who never gave up on the world.

His ma had always known him best, in the end.

No. Cloud shakes his head fiercely in self-reprimand, the wind whipping his hair around his ears. It's not the end. Not yet.

He'd never thought he would be doing this, but he has no choice. Winter is almost here—but only almost.

There's still time.

The sudden hush as Cloud steps into the clearing is the same as always, a blanket that shuts out the freezing winds. The gloomy manor that looms before him is the same as ever too. He's passed by often enough, more times than any other villager would ever dare, but today—

Today, Cloud heaves the imposing double-doors open and steps inside.

The moment his foot touches the plush red carpet, he can feel it: the heavy attention of some mysterious being, prickling at the back of his neck and causing the hairs on his arms to stand tall. It's even quieter inside, as if everything around him holds its breath in anticipation, and the carpet muffles Cloud's hesitant footsteps, one after another after another.

"Hello?" he tries first, hating the way the silent, empty halls amplify the waver in his voice. Clearing his throat, he aims for confidence as he says, "I'm here to make a deal."

Nothing.

He'd thought a demon might prefer strength, but if not, well—for this, Cloud can swallow his pride. "Please. I need help."

For a moment, only his voice echoes back: please… need help… help….

When the last echo dies away, between one breath and the next, a figure stands at the foot of the staircase, decidedly inhuman in its height and breadth and shape. It's difficult to look at—Cloud's eyes keep wanting to slide away in some kind of self-preservation instinct—but undeniably present, clad in shades of dark red and black and gold as it—he—tilts his head and raises his claws in an appraising motion.

When the demon speaks, his voice bears the rasp of disuse, low and hoarse. "Little human, do you understand the price of asking for the help of one such as I?"

Cloud raises his chin. He's hardly little. "Yes."

A pause, as if in expectation. When Cloud doesn't elaborate, the demon's lip curls, exposing just a hint of too-sharp teeth. "A bold one. Very well."

The demon's size is deceptive; each slow stride he takes forward holds the sinuous grace of a predator, not a movement wasted. When he comes to a halt, he leans in, meeting Cloud's lifted gaze steadily, hypnotically.

His eyes are red, a stupid, distant corner of Cloud's mind notes. Red and gold and bright.

"I see. Your mother is sick," the demon murmurs, shattering the strange state of suspension that entwines them. "Her continued health and happiness for the rest of her natural life… That is your wish."

Cloud lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding; he isn't sure if he should be surprised or not. "You can read minds?"

That same curl of the lip again, faint but undeniably present. "Not quite. Only in relation to fulfilling our… as you called it, deal."

"Oh." That limitation makes it less alarming, thankfully. "So—can you do it?"

The shadow of some emotion flickers across the demon's expression. "There will be, as you know, a price to pay. In the simplest terms, a life for a life."

There it is. Well, Cloud had expected it when he'd made the choice to come here, anyways, and he inclines his head in acceptance. "As long as my ma will be fine."

"I see." The demon shuts his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, they glow star-bright in the dim interior. "Little one, what is your name?"

That's not what Cloud had braced himself for, but maybe he should have. After all, there are many tales about names holding power, too.

He takes another deep breath and gives it over. "Cloud Strife."

"Very well, Cloud Strife," the demon says. "I will not kill you."

Ah. In many ways, death is easy. Easier. The demon seems to understand this as he watches Cloud's reaction carefully.

"Your mother and anyone you know will lose all memory of you. To them, it will be as if you never existed. You, too, must never see your mother again. You will stay on these estate grounds until she passes in her own time.

"Your old life in exchange for your mother's new one. That shall be payment enough."

Cloud swallows past the dryness in his throat, his knees trembling fiercely. He'd thought he'd prepared himself to accept any outcome, but this….

"Until she passes, you said. What happens after she does?"

"Once she does," the demon answers, "you will be free to go."

-

previous day | next day

[plushkin-culture-is]

hehheheheheh… heard you do,,, mooboards…

could I have a gloomy bear plush moodboard (pref the pink/og ones) with themes of breakcore/speedcore, kidcore, rainbowcore, and just general eye strain? ^_^

-🧸🎀🩸

yep!! im not very used to this kind of aesthetic so please forgive me if its a bit boring...

[bringcal]

i would like to see the animals

heres my stuffies! djungelskog, TY twilight sparkle, white bear, pink bunny, alpaca, gloomy bear, squishmallow dragon, monkey, sock monkey, flamingo, and jellycat frog with headphones.

My most expensive plush is actually the gloomy bear, which was 80 bucks. The djungelskog was free, a gift from my friend. my favourite at the moment is the brown monkey because its my partners! My partner also bought me the jellycat frog! I got the twilight at a thrift. the tag is in perfect condition so it mustve been from a collector possibly. Yes, the flamingo is youtuber merch. I really liked flamingo during 2020.

None of them have true names. I never been one to name my stuffies!

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Fast Food- Travels

Designed to be read on its own, but you can find part 1 here and part 2 here.

Those were the days! No stress, no struggle, no weight of an inexorable prophecy hanging over my head. Just me, eating and sleeping as I pleased.

My first stop had been Saints-burrow, the town closest to my home. The humans there had hair like flax and skin like the earth, their skirts thick with spun valli-wool. They tended the fields with cheer, and welcomed me with open arms. 

Kindness was as rampant as tallgrass there, an endless flow of generosity the likes of which I'd never encountered. There was no need to steal, thieve or burgle, for they were all too willing to give it to me for free. 

I spent two years in the local inn, spinning tales to the tavern's regulars in exchange for a steady supply of ale and bread (though I suspect they would've given it to me for free), before I felt the itch to travel. 

Somedays I sit and wonder what happened to those people, to their children's grandchildren. I wonder if they would have wept to see what became of their kindness. I wonder if they would blame me and curse themselves for being so generous toward me.

My wandering feet, or wings, as the case came to be, took me down to Nyctomachia, the land of a thousand gods.

My first night there had been thoroughly godless, however. It had been a gloomy night, like many others to come, full of rain and mist. Amidst the dampness, I stumbled across the corpse of a man, dressed in the rich purple fabrics of high nobility. His chest leaked blood like a fireflower blooming out of his heart, and his pockets held nothing but death. There was still one thing to take, however, and I, ever the pragmatist, took it with both hands.

That night, I slept under the plush covers of a dead man's bed, wearing his face, donning his silk nightgown. Oh, and screwing his lovely, obliging spouse. I do suspect they knew all along that I was an imposter, and I do suspect they didn't care.

I came to discover that Nyctomachia held an array of wonders for me. There were the night markets, where people were crushed together and trinkets hung off the walls, ripe for the taking. There were the galleries, where an established gentleman such as my current identity could waltz in, and, in the form of a rather grotesque street rat, flee with stolen goods. Best of all, there was the Undercity.

It was a hidden network of tunnels, spreading across the entire city, home to every inhuman thinkable. All manners for creatures lived there, from ghouls, goblins and vampires, to harpies, dryads and even a few centaurs. I, to my shock, fit right in. 

I spent my days mimicking Sir Armuin Kinaei the twelfth, lounging about looking pretty while my spouse managed the estates. I spent my nights gambling away my stolen goods and getting drunk on spirit-mead, gossiping in bad pidgin the whole time. I spent fourty years like that, twenty carefree years that ended with my spouse dying on me.

It wasn't a sudden thing. Everyone had seen it coming a long way. Humans only lived for so long after all, and Akati was not young when I met them. It still hurt. It still hurt a lot.

It hurt enough that I disappeared into the night and never returned, leaving my possessions to the living who I held dear. I suppose it was just too much for my heart to bear, to watch any more of my friends die.

Little did I know my heart was fated to experience far worse hurts.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[quill-pen]

A Father's Regret

Based on one of the many, many, many impromptu RPs/character convos @rom-e-o and I get wrapped up in.😅 Honey, I've RPed more in half a year with you than I have my entire life of fandom. I suppose there's no stopping now.

Warnings: Depression mostly, I guess; nudity and implied sex, but nothing at all graphic. Um... hauntings maybe?

Summary: Marley returns to the Scrooge household to deliver a very important message.

Theme:

Jacob Marley was a damned soul, doomed to wander the ends of the earth for all eternity; no rest, no peace. A soul riddled with regret for things he hadn't done, things he had done, and things he was now unable to do as he traversed the world and witnessed its many horrors and hardships.

Not among the least of these regrets were the ones he had in terms of his attempts at being a husband and a father--i.e. attempts he hadn't made. And for his folly, the pain and suffering in the world had only grown and claimed yet another innocent victim; that victim being his own daughter. If he possessed any right to call her that or think of her in such way; he'd abandoned her after all.

Perhaps that was why the ghost had decided to return to London, yet again, on this stormy, August night; making his way through the gloomy, rainy streets of the old city to the familiar, three-story, brick house on Craven Street, his chains and safes rattling and clanking behind him.

Scrooge Manor, as it was called now, was a thriving and bustling home compared to what it had been the first time Marley had ever seen it and the first time he'd visited old Scrooge on that fateful Christmas Eve just a few years ago. The roof was repaired and leakless, perfect for this dreary, stormy night; the windows were all replaced and unboarded with new, freshly painted shutters; the chimneys, one now spewing out a lazy curl of gray smoke, had been torn down and built back up with new brickwork; old crumbling places of the walls of the house had been rebricked as well. And the front flowerbeds, though looking dull at the current moment, were chocked full of a variety of flowers and growing shrubbery. The building actually looked like a place someone might actually want to live in from the outside.

When Marley glided ethereally through the front door, leaving an icy impression of his visage around the doorknocker as he did so, he found the inside to be even more homey than the outside. Floorboards had been replaced and were polished to a sheen; new wallpaper had been put up; the railings and staircases had been repaired and polished; the chandelier above looked cared for and regularly used--extinguished but slightly melted candles adorned it now; a large, plush, round, timelessly stylish carpet graced the floor Marley hovered above. Not only did the house look like a place someone might want to live in--it looked like a place somebody did live in. Or rather somebodies.

Jacob slowly floated up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall. His chains softly clinking, the ghost slowly swept down the hall, gazing about him at countless more changes and repairs that had been made since he was last there, everything bearing a soft and lovely feminine touch. The biggest change of all was that a number of the rooms were now occupied. As he poked his head through a wall or door in investigation of the snoring he heard on the other sides of them, Marley found children in each room, boys and girls of varying ages. They were all soundly asleep, snuggled into big, warm beds under cozy quilts, most of them smiling happily as if right in the middle of wonderful dreams. The littlest girl cuddled a soft, stuffed toy as she slumbered. All of their faces were scrubbed clean, the girls' hair braided neatly back for the night, their sheets looked tidy, their pillows fluffy: They all appeared well looked after and tenderly cared for. Even in his dismal state of existence, it was enough to bring a little smile to the specter's ghoulish face. When he found good, old Prudence deeply asleep at the end of the youngest boy's bed, his smile broadened. The sheer amount of love and affection in this house was palpable, tingling through Marley's phantom body and warming it ever so slightly.

The spook moved on down the hall, past pictures new and old to the next set of stairs. He came out on the top floor. He paused for a moment, gazing at the large, mahogany door in front of him, listening intently both for sounds and to the energy in the air. There was just a hint of electricity lingering in the air that had nothing to do with the storm outside. But overwhelmingly the energy was steady, smooth, warm, mellow, happy, and deeply ensconced in sensations of love and devotion. Ah, that meant to proceed with caution. Marley slipped silently through the door and, for the first time, found himself in the master bedroom of the home, the master and mistress of the manor asleep in their large, impressive, rosewood, four-poster canopy just feet away.

The pair laid tangled together, Bess almost directly beneath Ebenezer as his large, lanky frame curled over and around her smaller, stouter one. Her bare back was flush against his furred chest as the man's long right arm curled about her waist and held her close, Bess's own curling up against her belly to hold his hand on her ribcage. The woman's freckled face was burrowed against the feather pillows, while her man's face was nuzzled into the crevice of her neck, his long silvery locks mingling with the sea of her coal black waves. Their left hands were woven together at the fingers among the tangle of sheets and blankets, their matching wedding rings and Bess' moonstone ring glinting in the strobing flashes of lightning that managed to come through the breaks in the curtains. While the storm raged outside, the couple slept, completely undisturbed and as peacefully as their wards downstairs. Small little smiles creased their faces as well.

Marley couldn't help but notice how perfectly the pair fit together, as if they'd be crafted precisely for each other. Nor did it escape his attention how happy they looked. Terribly, terribly happy.

Though they were quite covered by the swirls of their sheets and each other, it was obvious the happy couple was in the nude, and Marley suddenly felt quite awkward. It seemed seeing one's daughter naked in bed with a man was just as awkward for an absentee father as any other. In all rights, he probably should have left, but he couldn't quite manage to pull himself away from the scene. It was... beautiful; his daughter and the man he'd considered to be a son and a friend, wrapped up together in pure, sweet bliss having finally found much-needed happiness and love in each other's arms. After his actions had helped to sow bitterness and pain in their lives, of course. Particularly Bess'.

The guilt and woe that beleaguered Marley every moment of his forsaken afterlife swelled up in the ghost and made him want to wail out his shame and sorrow, but he held it in. Such a peaceful, happy, and love-filled space as this was no place for such despairing cries, even if that was how he felt. This room, in this moment, deserved to be treated with as much reverence as a cathedral.

What had he done? Much more than damn himself to this misery for all eternity, what had he done to his own child? His selfishness and ignorance had spawned bitter hatred and hardship for the girl her entire life. Of course, much of that blame could also be shared with her mother--not even Marley was woeful and blind enough in his guilt to believe the blame lied solely upon his shackled shoulders; but there was no denying his actions had set the ball rolling down the path.

If only he'd snapped to his senses and realized what a blessing he'd had in Beatrice--a beautiful, young wife who had, beyond all accounts, honestly loved him and wanted to make him happy--and what a blessing he'd had in his daughter--now a clever, lovely, compassionate, strong woman who seemed quite capable of taking the very world by storm--things would have been so very different for all of them. He might never have been in these blasted shackles; Bess would never have grown up to be so scarred, both mentally and physically, and bearing pain no person should ever have had to bear; and Beatrice... she would never have taken that razor to her wrists or been doomed to her long-desired legacy of being a good mother being forever tarnished by her own daughter.

Yes, things would have been very different. Better. But even in his guilt, something told Jacob that a better ending would not have been the best ending for his daughter. And she deserved the best. Looking at her curled up so snuggly and happily in the embrace of her beloved, Jacob was sure this was the best for Bess.

Consequently, it was the best for Ebenezer, too, and he deserved it just as much after working hard to turn around years of ruin and earn his redemption. A redemption he perhaps might never have needed if it weren't for Marley, as well. Yes, many of Ebenezer's past hardships were all of his own doing, but, again, there was little argument Jacob had given that ball a significant push as well.

The chains around the spectre tugged, warning him it was drawing time to be moving on. There was no denying the chains; they commanded all. So, with the urging of the shackles, Marley did what he'd come here to do. It would not lessen his burden or change much of anything, but it was something that needed done regardless.

Moving down, closer to the bed so that he was just hovering above the sleeping couple, the ghost reached out his bony, clammy hand and stroked it ever so gently over the woman's dark crown. A few, faint ice crystals formed on the coal-black strands of her hair, creating a hauntingly beautiful effect: A tiara for the daughter of a ghoul. Then Jacob brought his hand down to just barely caress the backs of his fingers against Bess' cheek. If phantoms had been capable of shedding tears, Marley would have shed them as the regret welled up ever more greatly inside him.

"I'm so sorry," he declared in a ghostly whisper. "I am so sorry, Bess, my most blessed child. I know an apology from beyond the grave from a fool you never knew and have no reason to hold any regard for will mean little to you, but I am most heartily and humbly sorry for the heartache I've helped bring upon you, my girl. If it is any consolation at all, know that abandoning you and your mother is my greatest regret. There is nothing but regret in me--regret and sorrow and shame."

He bowed his head closer to kiss the woman's temple, leaving more frost on her hair. "But also know," he rasped right into her ear, "that, in the brief moments between regret, sorrow, and shame, is nothing but the most brilliant pride for you, my daughter. Pride for the woman you've become; pride for how you haven't allowed the world to corrupt you as it has so many others; pride for the strides you have taken and those I know you will take in making this harsh globe a better one. You've already made a decent start--keep going and, for the fear of rattling chains, never let the momentum stop."

He kissed her once more. "Goodbye, my Bess. I doubt you shall ever see me again, but I shall see you. And I shall be filled with greater pride each occasion I do."

With that, Jacob turned his attention to the sleeping man wrapped almost double around his daughter. "You've done well, Scrooge, old boy," he said. "Very well done indeed. I see no chains. For the sake of everything good and decent, keep that weight off."

Jacob's gaze fell back to his daughter, and he thought of all those precious little souls asleep downstairs. "Take care of them, Ebenezer," he murmured. "Take care of them and cherish them forever. Take it from a regretful old fool: You never know what you have until it's gone."

The chains jerked, pulling Jacob away from the bed and to the windows. The phantom let them take him and wailed for misery as he passed through the curtains and glass back out into the torrential night.

At a particularly loud crack of thunder, Bess stirred and cracked open her eyes with a moan. The vague impression of a ghostly voice whispered through her sleep-addled mind as she slowly rose up onto an elbow and blearily gazed around the darkened bedroom. She saw nothing. Could it have been nothing more than a dream? Perhaps mixed with the sounds of the storm? Possible. However, Bess had never experienced any such dream before.

The sensation of cold--bitter cold--finally registered in Bess' mind as it came more into the present and out of the warm darkness of slumber. She reached up and touched the side of her face where the sensation seemed to emanate. It, in fact did emanate; her cheek was frozen and numb to the touch, as if she'd been standing out in a blizzard in the dead of winter. But it was only isolated to the left half of her face--the rest of her was snug and toasty, tucked into the cocoon of her sleeping hubby.

Peculiar. It all got even more peculiar when Bess felt ice crystals in her hair as she brushed her finger through it. Frost? In August? And just on her hair in a couple different spots?

She had to be dreaming. Surely she had to be dreaming! This had to be some sort of lucid dream-state where she only thought she was awake but was actually still sound asleep. Yes, that was it--lucid dreaming.

Her sleepy brain satisfied with that explanation, and with Ebenezer sleepily tightening his grip around her to draw her back in again, Bess rolled over and lay back down. Snaking her arms about her man, she snuggled as close as possible into his broad chest and closed her eyes as she nuzzled into his chest hair. A deep sigh of contentment left her as her lungs filled with his scent. She lazily pressed kisses to the man's sternum, her mouth curving slightly into a soft smile again. By the time Ebenezer had enclosed his arms around her again, Bess was already slipping off to Dreamland to rejoin him. But even as she did, in the back of her mind was the voice she could have sworn she'd heard, whispering great regrets, but also great praises in equal measure. And, somehow, that made her feel even warmer and more content than ever before.

Taglist: @luvreadingfics @amazingassash @beascrooge @themostanonymousscribbler @b4bynikii @sparklesphobia @christmasgaybusinessmen @tenodai @girlbosseveyhammond @witchypandamonium @purgratoriat @neonshoe @orangewierdo @mirthadra @the-enchanted-rose @simp2537 @pandora-native-ayatei @youngsongnerd @skyvstheworldsince1996 @crimson-phantom-designs @cila-17 @ry-ichi1 @artist-anon08 @alittlebitbethany @crowwritesthings @hyerizz @crowbones13 @rom-e-o @softmullet @cheesethegodfather @the-house-of-auditore-frye @thephantomofzaun @littlethief78 @oldmanlusting

[rosyronkey]

its the gloomy bear plush. of course

KILLING YOU yeah mybad ☹️ googling how to stop being emo

[erguro]

gloomy bear plush is such a compliment to me

I CANT EVEN EXPLAIN WHY but its literally u :3

[r4wr-c0r3zz]

last post 2night but im getting this!!!

Ive been saving up for her for so long, as I have a personal goal of collecting all the Gloomy Bear plushies

I already have the original Gloomy Bear arms up plush and I rlyy wanted this one!

its 34.96 with shipping but worth it

(srry for teh rant, I have a gloomy bear hyperfixation)

[miinxpid]

♥*♡∞:｡.｡　 E-PINKIE ROOM CC LIST  　｡.｡:∞♡*♥

NOTES: 

POST... WHAT I MADE THIS CC LIST:  ♡

WARNING:  KEMONO PARTY LINKS! THE PAGE HAS ADS +18

THERE ARE THINGS THAT ARE NOT POSTED BECAUSE I DON'T REMEMBER BUT I WILL TRY TO REMEMBER AND UPDATE OVER TIME

                                  ♥*♡∞:｡.｡　 CC LIST 　｡.｡:∞♡*♥

Bed:https://www.patreon.com/posts/oneroom-set-60063998

Desk: https://www.patreon.com/posts/gaming-room-set-50717528?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copy_to_clipboard&utm_campaign=postshare

Sanrio pictures: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sanrio-nursery-70742236

tapetry: https://www.patreon.com/posts/kawaii-70741893

heart curtains: https://www.patreon.com/posts/heart-set-66373351

Sanrio plushes: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-67892556

Kitty camera: https://www.patreon.com/posts/high-school-set-70060243

Heart shelf: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-48141541

My Melody clock : https://kemono.party/patreon/user/33607175/post/67672617

Switch controllers: https://kemono.party/patreon/user/33607175/post/53320694

Switch: https://kemono.party/patreon/user/33607175/post/60289150

Pusheen cat figure: https://losts4cc.tumblr.com/post/665007574549250048/s4simomo-sfs-link-sfs-folder

Bratz phone: https://www.patreon.com/posts/55034551

Plumbob neon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/modern-teen-room-71118538

Sonico figure and anime posters: https://www.patreon.com/posts/65031710

 Astolfo figure: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-4814154

Rilakkuma bag: https://simfileshare.net/download/1141593/

Hello kitty sticker:

Zero two and japanse letters neon light: https://www.patreon.com/posts/neon-set-zero-61476946

Avril lavinge/ monster high/ hello kitty poster and  chair: https://www.patreon.com/posts/y2k-set-66654532

Keyboard : https://www.patreon.com/posts/kawaii-keyboard-51208159

BMO: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sims-4-kawaii-66685214

Body Pillows , tissue box and hentai dvds: https://www.patreon.com/posts/honey-azalea-set-64988171

Yoongi poster: https://burnitmyg.tumblr.com/post/686161591359635456/nuwmie-posters-set-01-kpop-jpop-posters-i

Scream poster: https://www.patreon.com/posts/y2k-prints-70741974

Gloomy bear: https://cursedcc.tumblr.com/post/649051527653228544/sims-4-gloomy-bear-new-mesh-made-by-me-use

Rilakkuma bear

Kawaii neon light:

Wardrobe:

Moo plant:

Rilakkuma cow/strawberry plush: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-53203759

Hello kitty, Cinnamonroll head plush: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-49605717

Heart pillow: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sims-4-cozy-set-67495035

Heart grid:

Flower pillow: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ajisai-extra-59526335

Hentai manga dcor  : https://missmecustomized.tumblr.com/post/656332308445544448/annnd-here-is-the-pose-pack-its-been-a-loooong

Heart dildo,paw candle, pc and monitor, coffin shelf , cinnamonroll plush,pencil glass: https://www.patreon.com/posts/bknysimz-new-53821746

 Penis plush : https://www.patreon.com/posts/cuupid-free-baby-69022861

Heart mirror:

Monsters :

Miku poster: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1W7Vp_K56awm4CjCx06U1UJXsvJ6w-QBy

Ouija pink:

Kawaii print:

Octopus plush and Penis lollipop: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-x-48142788

Sailor moon mouse: https://www.patreon.com/posts/patron-gift-6-56548911

Desk down bag: https://www.patreon.com/posts/school-bags-ts4-62922109

Color Boxes:

Makeup clutter(décor):

Hello kitty hair dryer: https://www.patreon.com/posts/hello-kitty-hair-58547695

Kitty mirror:

Powerpuff girl/ kuromi and my melody head/ rilakkuma cherry and candy : https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-cute-random-61792794

Headphones: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ts4-bknysimz-and-65364921

Spongy Glitter Mirror: https://www.patreon.com/posts/spongy-glitter-69767540

Kawaii calendar: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sims-4-studyroom-66133030

Heart chair and digital clock: https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-sets-objects-study/title/gaming-room-set/id/1604755/

Self love pills (happy pills): http://paysites.mustbedestroyed.org/booty/ts4patreon/ddae/

Kpop posters: https://burnitmyg.tumblr.com/post/686161591359635456/nuwmie-posters-set-01-kpop-jpop-posters-i

Hello kitty sticker ( I think is frm here T_T I DON’T REMEMBER WELL..): https://atomiclight.tumblr.com/post/631332775535968256/random-stickers-get-to-work-is-required

Hello kitty radiocaset: I don't remember where it was :(

[angelofdarknessmp3]

OMG sorry im late. but happy birthday i’m glad we’re mutuals and it was a lot of fun playing minecraft with u that one week, your gift is a gloomy bear plush ^__^

its ok everyday is my day thank you.

[buckleyy--diazz]

Better Now? - Liam/Reader [NSFW]

Originally posted on 'Softdaddypayno', I hope you enjoy x

°•°•°•°

Your heard the keys in the door lock, you knew it was Liam, he had texted you an hour ago to tell you he would be home soon. When he walked in you were curled up on the couch, wearing your favourite pair or pajama bottoms, the pink one with unicorns on it and a white tank top. A blanket was covering your feet and you had a steaming cup of tea in your hands. Something was playing on Netflix but you were not really paying attention. You were having one of those days where everything was pissing you off and making you cranky. It had started when you woke up and Liam told you there was an emergency at the studio and he needed to go even if he was supposed to be free all day. Then you had opened the blinds in your bedroom only to find out it was rainy and gloomy even if it was supposed to be sunny. And to top it all off you had seen something stupid on Twitter and it hadn't helped in making you feel better. 

Liam removed his boots and put his jacket in the hall closet before joining you in the living room. He sat next to you and put his hand on your ankle, squeezing it gently. He didn't talk, he knew it was better to not talk to you when you were like this. You were grateful he knew you so well. Not much could put you in a better mood but his presence next to you was comforting and you appreciated him for being there. He was always there for you. You looked at him and gave him a small smile. Liam moved closer and took your untouched cup of tea from your hands and put it on the coffee table. He wrapped his arms around you and brought your body closer to his. You felt great in his arms and your body relaxed immediately. Suddenly your day didn't seem as bad as it felt just a few minutes ago. Liam had came home earlier than he was supposed to and it had stopped raining. For the dumbass online, well there wasn't much you could do but block them.

 You closed your eyes and turned your head to nuzzle at his neck. You and took a deep breath, Liam smelled so good and it always made you feel safe to smell him. You knew nothing bad could happen when you were in his arms. You opened your eyes and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck before you took another deep breath and sighed loudly. 

One of Liam's hand made its way under your tank top, he rested it on your stomach, his thumb slowly tracing circles on your skin but not moving otherwise. A shiver ran through your body and you let your eyes fall shut again and pressed another open mouth kiss on his neck. Liam sighed and his hand moved higher, it was now right under your left boob. Liam was teasing you, you knew it. You were not in the mood for teasing. You took his hand and moved it up so he was cupping your breast and Liam let out a soft chuckle. He palmed it gently, letting his thumb rubs your nipple until it hardened under it. It felt great. 

Liam turned his head and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You immediately opened your mouth and sucked on his tongue. He moved his hand to your right boob and you moaned into the kiss when he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Would it made you feel better if I ate you out?” he whispered against your lips. He knew you too well and knew exactly what would put you in a better mood. You nodded and you suddenly felt hot all over and you needed your pajama pants gone. Liam smiled and removed his hands from under your tank top and he took you by your hips. Gently he laid you down on the couch under him. He pecked your lips gently before he kissed your neck, sucking a mark, making you whimper. His hands pushed your tank top up and you lifted your arms to help Liam get rid of it. The cold air made you shiver and Liam leaned it and kissed your chest, he started at your collarbones, nipping gently at the skin. He kept kissing his way down until he reached your breast. He circled your left nipple with the tip of his tongue before sucking it harshly between his plush lips. His hand was on your other boob, palming it while he kept sucking on your nipple, making your back arch from the couch. He kissed his way between your breast and he replaced his hand by his mouth, giving the same treatment to your right nipple. His left hand was slowly trailing down your ribs making your skin tingle. You sighed when he let go of your nipple but he kept kissing his way lower, peppering kisses all over your stomach. Both of his hands were on your hips and you pushed them up, a subtle hint that you wanted your pants gone already.

“Be patient, love,” he laughed and you glared at him. 

Liam hooked his fingers in the elastic band of your pajama pants and slowly started to lower them down revealing a pair of lacy black knickers. Liam looked up and smirked but he said nothing. You had been feeling like shit all day and you loved wearing thing that made you feel good about yourself in these moments, so you had decided to slip in one of your favourite pair of sexy underwear. It also happened to be Liam's favourite. Liam rapidly place a kiss under your belly button and kept lowering your pants down. Once they reached your ankles, you wiggled your feet and let the pants fall on the ground, leaving you in only your black knickers under Liam. 

Liam sat on his knees between your legs, letting his hands caress your thighs and calves. 

“Fuck, you're gorgeous babe,” he whispered before leaning in and kissing your hips. You sucked in a breath when Liam took your left leg and hooked it over his shoulder. He kissed the inside of your thighs, stopping to suck a mark on the sensitive skin and letting his beard scratching your skin just the way you liked. He let his right hand slide up your thigh until he reached the hem of your panties. He kept kissing your thighs without touching your pussy. You groaned low in your throat and you gripped his hair trying to bring his head where you wanted it. He lifted his head and smirked at you. The little shit. 

“Liam,” you whined and he finally decided to put you out of your misery. He let his fingers trailed up to your pussy. He slowly caressed it through the thin material of your knickers and you could feel yourself getting wet. Your back arched when Liam applied a bit more pressure over your aching clit. 

“Fuck babe, you're so wet for me already,” Liam moaned before he kissed your pussy through the lace. He hooked his thumb under the elastic band and pushed your underwear to the side, he looked up and locked his eyes with your, slowly licking his lips before he leaned in and licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wrapped his lips around it and sucked gently, never breaking eye contact. Your breath was ragged and small whimpers were escaping your throat. You groaned when Liam pulled back. He pulled down your knickers and dropped them on the floor with your pajama pants. 

Liam put his hands on the inside of your thighs and pushed your legs open wider leaving you even more exposed than before. He looked you up and down before he dived back in, placing open mouth kisses all over your pussy. You felt his fingers slipping through your wet folds, slowly pushing into you as he sucked on your clit. Your back arched from the couch and your hands gripped his hair tightly. Liam moaned around your clit and you clenched around his fingers at the sensation.

 Liam let go of your clit to lap messily around his fingers pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. His fingers were thick and they felt so good inside of you, your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. You pushed your hips up, grinding against his face making a mess of his beard. You couldn't see it but you knew his lips were red and puffy and his bears would be wet from your juice. You ground against Liam again and he increased the pace of his fingers. When he found that spot you let out a scream of pleasure and you could feel him smirk against you. 

You wouldn't last very long, not with Liam's hands and mouth on you. Yours legs were shaking and your body kept convulsing. You tighten your grip on his hair and kept grinding against his face, meeting each thrust of his fingers inside of you. 

“C'mon babe, fuck yourself on my fingers, I want you to come” growled Liam. 

The muscles in your stomach tightened and you could feel your orgasm building inside of you. Your mouth was hanging open and no sounds were coming out. You were feeling dizzy from all the sensation all at once. Your hips were moving against your will and your legs were shaking.

“I'm go-onna come Li-am,” you stuttered and Liam wrapped his lips around your clit again, giving it one last harsh suck and you were coming on his fingers and face. Liam kept his fingers inside of you but he slowed down the pace. His tongue was gently lapping are your juices until you pushed his head away, feeling over sensitive. 

Liam chuckled when you pushed him away and he sat back on the couch between your legs. He slipped his fingers out of you and you whimpered at the loss. He put his hands were on your thighs caressing them gently while you tried to catch your breath. 

“Feeling better now?” Liam asked and you shot him a tired smile. You were actually feeling a lot better. You also felt very tired. Liam got up from the couch and put his arms under your limp body. You wrapped your arms around his neck and you let him carry you to your bedroom. Liam gently deposited you on the bed and he rapidly got undressed. He laid next to you and covered both of your body with the duvet. He put his arms around your waist and kept your body close to his. 

“You're still hard,” you yawned when you felt his hard cock press against your arse. 

“Don't worry about me,” Liam said as he moved his hips away from you.

“But-”

“No ‘but’, love,” interrupted Liam, “you're tired. Now be a good girl, sleep and maybe I'll fuck you when we wake up,” Liam whispered, lips directly against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Liam pressed a kiss against the back of your neck and you fell asleep almost immediately. 

[bunnyblooms]

happy, gajeel, wendy, laxus, bixlow

happy: do i have or want pets? i have a calico cat named lucy. i want to own some kind of small critter maybe rats or guinea pigs or ferrets. i also wanna own bugs too like little cockroaches??? and chameleons or little lizards? maybe an iguana? there’s too many animals that i want to own and no space for them all!!!!

gajeel: what’s your favorite music genre?dark wave and synth definitely. favorite band is white lies and both their old and new stuff are pretty much the kind of shit i like even though they’re very different.

wendy: biggest insecurity?hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm idk i’m insecure about a lot of stuff. :’) probably that i’ll never be good enough for the people around me or for my own life or whatever? just the idea that i’m never enough or not good or bad at shit is my biggest insecurity.

laxus: do you like storms?i love storms it depends on the kind of storm tho. we get tornadoes in texas so when the sky is weird i get anxious. but i do love storms. ;w;

bixlow: do you sleep with a stuffed animal?i do! i go through stuffed animals until they’re like so wonky from being held that they’re not good anymore. i used to sleep with a gloomy bear plush and then the little claws came out of its paw. so i got a new one until the same thing happened. then i got a stuffed sloth which i’ve been needing to replace really badly bc it’s so worn out and like crushed? but it’s hard finding ones big enough and soft enough to be comfortable. ;w; cause they gotta be big so i can squeeze em like i’m holding someone. there’s a triceratops pillow thing that i found at walgreen’s recently that i kind of want that’s the right size and squishiness but i keep forgetting to buy it lmao.