#hind-calf

[rongike]

[planet-random]

Hind and calf by Graham Wiffen

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎ𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓯 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, animal abandonment pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you aren't the same after you were kidnapped author’s note: I'm half dead, I hope this is good <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sky was dark, the grayness of it expanding as far as the eye could see with the promise of rain. It painted everything near in a melancholy shadow, like the world was a ghost of itself.

This was not the way Billy had hoped to bring you home.

As he ushered you through the open space between his horse and the house, standing like a figure in the distance, he noticed the door was ajar. The miniscule detail heightened the already-present guilt inside him, but he pushed it down deep, instead focusing on you.

Rubbing your shoulders comfortingly, Billy ensured your steps were steady as he guided you up the stairs, nudging at the gap in the door with his foot to open it without letting go of you. The deafening quiet of the house met his ears, and he nearly cringed at the emptiness of it. Billy had really only ever known these four walls to hold light and laughter and love, three things always associated with you. The girl under his arm was a mere notion of that, nothing more.

Images of you tied, gagged, and crying invaded Billy's vision, and he tried to shake them away as he shut the door behind you. The last day had been tumultuous, overflowing with worry. Memories didn't come forth, only brief images accompanied by emotion. He'd ridden like mad trying to find you, cursing the roots of the ones who'd taken his girl away from him.

He didn't want to think about that right now. About the bloodbath that had ensued, about the sight of your fear-stricken body taut in his arms. Blinking once, Billy re-twined his arm around you, rubbing your side and dropping a kiss to your silken hair. Still soft after your whole ordeal.

You turned to face him, and he went numb at the look in your eyes. Stolen joy, replaced with an awful replica, a renewed safety that didn't fill near the space of what had been taken. Billy squeezed your hip, lifting his hand to trace the apple of your cheek. "It's okay." They were the only words he could think to breathe into the tension of the air.

The gentle padding of little footsteps descended, and the next thing Billy knew, the body of your cat, fur dark as midnight, was rubbing against his legs, weaving in and around them like the path of a river. A smile crossed Billy as he realized, and he looked to you somewhat excitedly. "Look, sweetheart, it's Fish. Bet he's missed you."

Your body gave a jolt when the cat nudged his furry face into your calf, as if to ask where you'd been. Billy's face fell into worry when you didn't bend to scratch Fish's ears or pick him up as he'd thought you would. Instead, your face was pressed to his chest, fingers clenching the leather of one suspender in an attempt to pull him closer somehow.

Fish seemed put off, sitting on his hind legs and craning his neck up as he meowed. All Billy could do was look helplessly at the little creature over your shoulder, fingers caressing the length of your spine as he attempted to inject comfort into you through his touch. After such a spot of trauma, he'd thought, hoped that your beloved pet would bring you some semblance of normalcy.

The afternoon bled into night, darkening the corners of the earth and further leading you into dread for the sleep ahead. Billy managed to coax you into bed, your spot between his arms beckoning. He promised that you didn't have to sleep, but it'd do you some good to at least lie down. Holding you, he tried to ignore the angry welts where the ropes had stung at your wrists, the marks for which there was no balm except time.

Your eyes were open, hair spread across his chest like a splayed, outstretched wildflower. He sifted his fingers through it, letting the quiet linger. He wore no shirt, knowing how much you loved having his skin right against yours. Maybe it would inspire sleep; that feeling of being comfortable.

Billy hated feeling helpless, but there was hardly anything else to do. there were things floating in your mind that he couldn't fix. There was very little to resolve with his capabilities. For now all he could do was hold you, guarantee your safety.

There was a little mew, and then light pressure on the mattress as Fish sprang up onto the bed. Normally it was a routine- Billy would fix himself against your back, arms slung around your waist, and Fish would curl up on your other side. You'd been falling asleep with him like that for longer than Billy had known you, and so when he began to occupy the same bed he simply adjusted himself around it. It was a cozy thing; the image of you cuddling with both him and the cat.

Right now, your stomach was pressed to Billy's side, ear resting on his heart. Fish pushed his head against your back, wanting you to turn around. But you were still, seemingly immune to the cat's wishes.

After a few tries, Fish gave up, opting to pad over to Billy's side and slump defeatedly by his hip. He lifted a hand, trailing his fingers over Fish's head, trying to convey that you didn't mean it, that you just weren't feeling your best. The poor creature didn't even know what happened.

All he knew was that his favorite person in the world was refusing to even look at him.

Everything about healing is arduous. If it happens too quickly, it didn't happen right. Billy tried to keep this in mind as he marched through every day, holding your hand through some, but carrying you most.

The nightmares. Every time you drifted into sleep, Billy hoped it would be a longer stretch than the previous night before you were inevitably woken by strains of the subconscious. He'd hear the familiar strains of sniffling, feel teardrops rain on his chest, and just know.

"Shh, sweet girl," Billy murmured one night after a particularly harrowing dream, fitting his palm under your nightdress over your back and hoping the heat of it would bring you down. "'S okay. I've gotcha. You're safe, I'm here."

You gasped, letting out a little sob that broke his heart. Billy dressed you in his arms, fingers falling over you like the petals of a flower kissing the bud. He held you tight, his body a shelter to your internal storms. It was a strange thing to hide from something inside by gravitating outward.

What truly saddened Billy was the clear contrast between your former and current being. When he'd met you, it was as if you were the goddess of spring herself, a sunbeam fallen to earth with the sole intention of brightening it. He swore flowers sprung up in your path, everything you touched glittered.

Now you were somber, retreated into the oceans of your own feelings. How swiftly your demeanor had changed in the wake of the horrible event of your kidnapping. With every crystally pearl that slipped from your formerly bright eyes, every shudder that racked you when he extended a comforting hand to your arm, he wished he hadn't been so swift in ending the lives of those who'd persecuted you. They deserved something slower, a twisting knife so they knew exactly what they'd done.

He reached for your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap and lower your head to his shoulder. Stretching a palm across your back, Billy began to tilt his body back and forth, rocking you soothingly and whispering, "Was just a dream, baby. 's all over now. You're gonna be okay." You let out a shuddering gasp, burying your face in his chest as the aftershocks of your nightmare shook your body.

Fish sleepily lifted his head from where he was sleeping at Billy's side, seeming to notice your distress. He arched his back in a stretch that nearly made him vibrate, pressing his cheek to your elbow. The touch made you stiffen, and you burrowed further into Billy, avoiding the cat's touch. That same stab of secondhand guilt cut him, and he exhaled softly, digging his nose into your hair. He wasn't the only one saddened by your troubles as of late.

Days pooled themselves, saving up to become weeks, and Billy was worried by your state. The nightmares continued, disturbing your sleep sometimes multiple times after dark. Aside from that, you were nearly a ghost when the sun was up, hardly lucid, tethered to the rock of that horrible day when you'd been taken.

You were rapidly losing weight, your skin paling. He was diligent about feeding you, but you ate very little. The pillars of your light were burning out one by one, as much as he could see you didn't want them to.

Drawn and quiet, your days were filled with the sound of silence. You occupied yourself half-heartedly with light tasks, and it instilled an ache in him- how diligently you tried to resume normalcy. He watched you sew and read and prepare meals, trying to resume your life as it was before. But all it seemed to do was push you further adrift in your sorrow.

Even the simplest of tasks, like brushing your hair, could send you into a fit of tears. That time, he'd heard the hairbrush clatter to the floor and sprang to his feet, racing to your side and gathering you in his arms. You were falling and he was trying desperately to hold you up.

The situation with Fish only grew worse. You outright refused to interact with the poor cat at all. He meowed at you for love and you ignored him, not even turning your head.

The poor cat would come pitifully to Billy after each rejection, tail metaphorically between his legs. Fish was long used to being shown nothing but love by you, and this sudden turn must have been jarring for him. It was a strange thing for Billy to behold as well. The sight of you cuddling the cat, even giving him kisses, was as ordinary as the sky's color before the events of your kidnapping. Things had changed, and not for the better.

Every night, Fish reattempted to resume the routine with you, meowing and trying to lay against you. And every night you would turn away from him, your back a cold declination.

He would have thought you were being cruel. But he knew you were hurting, that the pain was creeping in and making a home in your bones. The woman he loved wouldn't hurt anything on purpose. And so he took up the duty of comforting your cat, holding you with one arm and scratching Fish behind the ears with his opposite hand.

One night as you were lying facing him on the pillows, head nestled in the crook of your arm, you murmured, "You don't need to supervise me all the time, you know. You could go back to work."

Billy lifted his head, his thumb stroking the inside of your elbow. "Not when you're not feelin' well," he whispered. "Sweetheart, I'm tryin' to take care of you."

"It must be exhausting." You shifted on your side. "Constantly watching me." Your words were spoken dully, with little tone and even less volume.

Letting out a breath, Billy propped himself up on an elbow, searching your eyes. He held your hand between you, running the pad of his finger over the bump of your knuckles. "Exhausting? No. Never. But I'm worried, darlin'. 'bout you."

You turned on your back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

The flat delivery of your words was almost worse than if you'd screamed them. He let out a humorless laugh. "Sweeheart, you ain't been fine in weeks. You won't eat or speak...you won't even pet your cat."

His words rendered you silent, and you searched the ceiling as if it held the answers to life's greatest questions. Fish chose this moment to leap onto the bed, pawing at your thigh. Something seemed to snap in you, and you swept a hand out, pushing him away. "Stop it, Fish."

Billy frowned, sitting up and letting the covers fall to his thighs. "Baby, don't take it out on the cat. He ain't done nothin', just tryna give you love." Fish approached you again, and you huffed, turning away. Billy shook his head, his heart clenching. "Honey, c'mon now."

You sat up and drew your legs to your chest, like two spindly branches folding in the wind. Burying your face in your knees, you took in a shaky staccato breath, nails digging into your skin. Billy reached out a hand, rubbing it up and down your back. Your behavior had long since crossed over into the territory of being out of character. It was as if a ghost had inhabited the space you once took up.

He was well aware of what you were doing, even if it wasn't purposeful. Shutting out the world, pushing him away. You were a spectre lying in the bed where his sweetheart used to sleep. Billy sat there in silence, recalling how many times he'd attempted to maneuver you out of yourself again. And he wondered if that version of you was even still there.

Then you sniffled, lifting your head and reaching out for him. He could read the early signs of tears, sense the ache that resided within you. And in an instant, all doubts ceased. His girl was still in there. She had to be.

Billy's arms encircled you, pulling you tight into his body and tucking your head under his chin. When your face was buried in his chest, your body began to shake, little tremors cutting through your being. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you." Your voice was edged with sobs the way curtains were with lace.

The words tore right through him as if he were the page of a book, and he pressed his lips into your hair. "Shhh...don't apologize. I love you too, I love you so much. I just wish you'd let me in, my love. Let me help you."

"I don't wanna hurt you..." you choked, trembling under his gentle touch. "I can't get better..."

"Hey...that ain't true, baby," Billy whispered, his brow furrowing. "You can-"

"I don't deserve to get better," you sniffled. That sentence broke his heart worse than anything that had happened thus far.

Billy drew you close, nuzzling his cheek against your head. "My love, you deserve every good thing in the world." He pulled back for a moment, tilting your tearstained face up so he could see your eyes. "'n gettin' better's a damn good thing."

Your lower lip trembled just slightly, and Billy stroked your hair. It was devastatingly clear how badly you were hurting. So he gave you the only thing he truly knew how to do. Love.

He swaddled you in his arms, and you clung to him, nudging yourself close. Stroking your waist, Billy eased gentle kisses into your hair. "I'm here," he murmured. "I ain't goin' anywhere, sweet girl. 'm here."

Fish didn't even try to go to you that night. He just went straight to Billy.

Like a flower, you had been withering, petals stiffening and crinkling, floating down to the ground at your feet. He could see how frozen you were in your sad metamorphosis, clawing desperately at your own skin to get out of it.

He saw it in the way you looked at Fish, curled up against his leg. It was obvious how awful you felt about your maltreatment of the cat, but you were too lost in the waves of your depression to pull out and fix it. Billy grasped at the shreds of you left behind, tried to piece them together and show you the beauty of them.

He saw it in the way you clung to him, the love you felt a facet of yourself you'd never let go of. And he was glad for that, more than anything. It gave him hope. Love could solve anything with time and patience, he knew.

And so, he gave it tenfold, covering you in kisses and in cuddles. He made sure to hold you tight in the morning, especially after a rough night, whispering his love for you over and over again. Though he tried to hide it, his affections held a desperate edge. With every touch he seemed to whisper, please come back to me.

Over time, little signs seemed to reveal themselves, signs you were getting better. It was like seeing the first sparkle of a lake at sunrise, like witnessing a flower open its petals. You began to come to life again. He didn't comment on it, worried it would cause you to retreat back into yourself or tease out any worries. Instead, he continued to love on you.

He noticed you standing on the porch at sunset one evening, looking out into the cloudy sky streaked with orange. There was a light sheen of rain drizzling over the earth, and you seemed transfixed by it. Billy leaned against the doorway, silently watching you extend a hand, tentatively letting the rain kiss your fingers.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, a tiny smile twitched at your lips.

It was like seeing the sun after a storm, like the first sign of hope in a crisis. Billy felt it hit him like a bolt of lightning, bubbling in his chest and threatening to spill over. His eyes stayed glued to you, sure it was a trick of the light, a flicker that would fade into black.

But then you turned to him, corners of your mouth turning up more by the minute. And he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Billy moved forward, bridging the gap and pulling you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, emotion welling up in his being and overflowing into his actions.

You slid your arms around him, seeming confused. “Billy? What is it?” The rain was pouring harder, beating against the roof of the porch in the same rhythm as his heart.

Hope was coursing through him in a river. He was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. When he finally found his words, all he could manage was “You’re…you’re smilin’.”

Your features softened. “Oh, Billy.”

His fingers tangled in your hair, heel of his palm on your cheek. You tilted your head up, nudging your nose against him. He saw daylight in your eyes, something golden and bright on the horizon. Billy felt like it was the first time he’d ever seen you, like he was a younger man dizzy under the spell of new love. And he let himself get hit over and over again.

“My sweet girl,” he breathed, searching your eyes. “My baby…”

You lifted yourself on your tiptoes, brushing your lips gently against his. Billy pressed his body to yours, holding you close as you smiled into the kiss. He caressed you like your body was built from gold, breathed into life by angels.

The sight of you smiling, kissing him, the beginnings of light brightening your entire being, spurred his actions, and his mouth dragged against yours, holding you in a kiss that stopped time. He pressed little pecks to your parted lips. “My sweet girl…my beautiful girl…”

You held to him, body practically melting against his. Arms encircling your waist, Billy breathed easy. Tilting your head up, you murmured, “You never gave up on me.”

“Never,” he responded instantly, nudging his lips to your forehead. “You’re a part of me. Lettin’ go of you would be like lettin’ go of my heart.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did,” you whispered, cheek on his shoulder. “I’ve been exhausting. And difficult. And unresponsive.”

“You were hurtin’,” Billy shook his head, lavishing another kiss to the border of your hairline. "You went through a bad thing. Anybody woulda reacted the same way."

"But I hurt you," you whispered, horror outlining your words. "And I hurt Fish..." Saying it out loud seemed to weaken you, and Billy held fast to your figure. "I pushed him..."

"Hey...hey, sweetheart, it's okay," Billy said softly, caressing your cheek. "It's okay. Me 'n Fish knew it wasn't personal. We knew our girl was in there somewhere." His hand traced the line of your jaw, reveling in the sight of the beginnings of healing. "We knew you'd come back to us. And even if you didn't, we'd love you anyways."

Every word that poured from his lips was knotted with sincerity, painting an idyllic picture that seemed to wash over you. The rain was slowing down, and you were breathing steady, and Billy swore he could see your soul glowing from the inside out, as if you were stardust. He wouldn't have been surprised if you were.

Between the sheets, your phantoms were stilled for the night, and you laid peacefully in his arms, like the space between them had been carved to fit you. Your name was the title of his story, your handwriting in the margins, your pen underlining his captivation. A week ago he would have thought this an illusion. His girl, happy beginning to seep back into her veins where it belonged.

The familiar thump on the mattress signaled Fish's nightly arrival, and he padded over to you, meowing curiously and half-heartedly rubbing his cheek to your shoulder. Billy exhaled softly, preparing to comfort the cat from your actions borne of grief.

But you reached out a hand, tracing a finger under Fish's cheek and smiling when he began to purr, stretching his neck so your nail would scratch the sweet spot on his neck. You shifted in Billy's arms, so your back was to his chest and his arms were folded over your belly.

Your movements were careful, almost as if you were waiting for the cat's forgiveness. But Fish curled around you like nothing had changed since the night before you were taken, the pleasant vibration of his purring filling the air. Breathing a laugh of delight, you held the cat close to your chest, stroking his head as you eased back into your place.

Billy felt his heart swell at the sight, and he squeezed you to his chest, kissing your temple and taking in the picture he'd have burned into his eyes for eternity if he could. The rough terrain was smoothing out, the seas ahead were tranquil. Spring was resting its soft hand upon the earth and you were healing bit by bit, washed anew by the rain.

All was right with the world.

[astralnymphh]

MDNI!!

attending trainer!abbys private class, one on one, leg–to–chest stretching. imagine her hulky hand planted cupply on the hind of your lower–shin, applying a denting pressure that stretches your hamstrings and calves nicely, a pressure nice enough to excentuate the hale grooves of her muscles, fair flesh binding with aquamarine veins branching under the transluscency– and the utmost noticeable gesture, her hips hoisting up into your butt. totally void of purpose, surely? surely on your cherub feathered soul? wrong. red buzzer noise. that prodding of her woolen drawstrings daring enough to poke the clad crevice of your ass– purpose soaked. man, that neutral look she dons, porpoise gray staring into you, and all that chalks up in conversation was her dull mutter of, "doin' good?" to which you beck and hum, "mh–hm," cause there was a wayward hell churning between the both of you, a lust bleeding uncontrollably into your veins. omg, imagine she hooks your leg over, knee to shoulder calf draping over, and she uses her torso instead to push on your leg, cotton tender breasts embracing either side of your thigh– cracking a cocksure grin, she knows what stream her intentions lead to. ౨ৎ bro then goes, "jeez, loosen up newbie. can't be this tight on game day~" in her mellow honey voice AUGHHH.

i ain't ever write for abby, so this is a first 🐚

[furby-junkie]

"Bob Kling makes a final touch to his Furby creation at the butter cow display at the Ohio State Fair in 2000. Kling is director of Sculpting for Hasbro."

Source

Article From The Cincinnati Enquirer (newspapers.com transcript)

Date: August 13, 2000

Hasbro butters up the fair 

 How do you bring butter to life? Mix toy-makers with the dairy farmers during the Ohio State Fair. Eight Cincinnati toy sculptors from Hasbro went from designing action-figures to spending four days in a refrigerator sculpting butter. The local design team is behind this year's butter sculpture, the largest ever at the fair on display through Aug. in Columbus. Accompanying the annual cow and calf are depictions of Hasbro's Mr. Monopoly, pet Furby and a Tonka Truck.

The Hasbro designers approached the American Dairy Association (ADA) of the Mideast after their veteran butter sculptor of 36 years retired. The ADA Mideast liked the idea. There aren't a lot of skilled butter sculptors in the area to carry on the century-old tradition. "The dairy industry and Hasbro have a lot in common children," said Jenny Wilson, director of communications for Mideast ADA, who pointed out that the "milk mustache" ad campaign is aimed at children.

Some choice details, such as the folds of skin in the hind quarters, a big vein on the udder and the slope of the cow's back, 'were pain painstakingly patted into place. Contrary to popular opinion, butter is no easy medium. "It's slimy," said Mr. Kling "Butter responds a little bit like bad clay," he said. Although the team worked in a 45-degree walk-in cooler, they found that their body heat would still melt the butter that ran down their arms.

"At the end of the day we would shower and even then, we still smelled like butter," said Mr. Kling. However artfully successful the sculptures are, they'll last only as long as the fair. "They'll turn off the cooler and pressure wash the frames," said Mr. Kling, who said it would be too expensive to try to preserve the butter art in another medium.

[meowmeowriley]

What if Ghost had a tattoo somewhere that was the outline of a rabbit kinda curled up with a rabbit skeleton inside it almost like an X-ray type thingy

He absolutely would. (And honestly, so would I. All my tattoos are animal skeletons except for one lol)

He'd have that on his right arm, the one without the sleeve. On that arm he'd also have a blacked out rabbit with red eyes in front of the moon, which is a Watership Down reference. I'm obsessed so he has to be too.

Speaking of, one of my friends mentioned he would totally have a huge back piece dedicated to predators, so foxes, hawks, badgers, dogs. Probably other things, I just can't think of them.

I also think he'd have one on his leg, the skeleton of a rabbit on high alert, sat back on its hind legs and looking around, and it would be a 1:1 of his rabbit self on his calf. Extra? Yeah. But cool AF? Also yeah.

[emilybahu]

Several Sentence Sunday!

Got a good piece of my ‘Tommy gets a cat’ fic for y’all today, if you’re interested, this is in the same universe as a fic I wrote a couple months ago where Eddie adopts a cat (link to that post here). The part I’m posting today isn’t going into Tommy finding his cat, but you get to see Tommy giving Eddie’s kitten some love!

Tommy made it safely to Eddie’s house, finding the key under the mat and letting himself in. He entered the house, closing the door behind him. It felt weird being in Eddie’s house by himself; he felt like he shouldn’t be there even though Eddie asked him to. Regardless, Tommy went down the hall to Eddie’s room to let Shadow out to roam.

When he opened the door, Shadow was sitting behind it, clearly expecting Eddie. She cocked her head adorably to the side and looked at Tommy before walking to him and rubbing up against his legs in greeting. He smiled, squatting down to offer a hand for Shadow to sniff. She seemed to recognize Tommy without it, though, pressing her tiny head into Tommy’s hand.

“Ah, so you do remember me,” Tommy said as he gently scratched Shadow’s head; the kitten purred, seeming happy with the attention.

Tommy stood up from his crouched position, and Shadow meowed at him as if to say, “Did I say you should stop petting me?” she then stood on her hind legs, her front paws reaching up his calf.

“Aww, sweet girl,” Tommy cooed at Shadow. "Do you want me to pick you up?” he asked as he bent down to pick the kitten up.

Shadow, the sweet, cuddly cat she was, immediately cuddled into Tommy, nuzzling into his chest. This made him beyond happy. God, he loved cats so damn much. The best part was that no one was there to watch, as his heart actively melted because Shadow cuddled into him.

“Every time I see you, you make me want to steal you,” Tommy whispered to Shadow as he sat on the couch with her still in his arms. “Eddie wouldn’t be too happy about that, would he? He loves you so much; I hope you know that.” He continued after setting the kitten on his lap.

Tommy booped the little cat’s nose, and she pawed at his finger. He laughed lightly, “God, you’re too cute for your own good Shadow.”

Yes, Tommy was having a conversation with a kitten. He honestly couldn’t help it. He always did this with his previous cats; he could swear that sometimes they actually understood him. Shadow was just staring up at him with a face that oddly reminded him of Evan’s face when the man intently listened to Tommy's stories.

Okay, maybe he really needed some sleep because now he’s comparing his boyfriend’s face to a kitten's. While they’re both very adorable, Evan is adorable in a very different way than Shadow. Tommy figured he probably shouldn’t get worked up about his boyfriend while sitting on Eddie’s couch.

Shadow had made herself comfortable, curling up on Tommy’s lap as he pondered about Evan. Tommy looked down and smiled at Shadow, gently stroking her back, causing her to purr. The longer he sat there with the little cat on his lap, the more tired he felt. Eventually, he let himself fall asleep sitting on the couch even though he knew he’d likely regret it later.

A couple of hours later, Tommy woke up to Shadow jumping off his lap and the sound of the door opening, followed by the happy chatter between Eddie and Evan. He kept his eyes closed; he wasn’t quite fully awake yet.

Then he heard Shadow meow at Eddie, and Eddie greeted the kitten: “Aww, hi Shadow. Did you miss me?”

Tommy heard Evan snicker at Eddie, felt a pair of very familiar lips on his forehead, and hummed, “Hmmmmm.”

“Hi, Tommy,” Evan sweetly said as he caressed Tommy’s cheek.

“Hi, Evan,” Tommy smiled.

Tommy watched as Evan looked over to Eddie, who was still distracted by Shadow. He looked back at him with a small smile before briefly connecting their lips. Tommy hummed quietly as his boyfriend pulled away.

“What a nice way to wake up,” Tommy said just loud enough for Evan to hear as he finally got off the couch and slowly stretched.

Evan snickered at that as Tommy rounded the couch and hugged his boyfriend, arms wrapping around Evan’s waist as Tommy rested his forehead on his shoulder. Evan, of course, wrapped his arms around Tommy, rubbing a hand up and down his back. Tommy felt his boyfriend kiss his temple lightly, and he smiled.

“You tired, baby?” Evan lightly laughed as he leaned his cheek against his hair.

“Mhm, it’s no joke that Eddie’s couch isn’t great for sleeping on,” Tommy mumbled into his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Evan laughed a little louder this time, getting Eddie’s attention.

“What’s so funny over there, lovebirds,” Tommy heard Eddie teasing.

To be continued…

[chrissdollie]

eclipse part two˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ series playlist

♡ summary: you moved from the sizzling hot arizona to the depressive rainy washington in a small town called forks. it was terribly boring.. until you meet a gorgeous townie and fall in love. but what do you do when your childhood friend interferes with your feelings? ♡ warnings/notes: a matt sturniolo and chris sturniolo love triangle series, cursing, lowercase intended, use of "yn" ♡ wc: 3.3k

♡ masterlist

“hi lil!” you coo, bending down to pick up the kitten. she purrs softly at your touch before curling up into your embrace. you cradle her while walking into the living room where charlie’s watching sports on the couch. hearing your footsteps, he turns around with a smile. “hey kiddo, how was school?” you scratch lilith’s head, thinking of how to answer. you could lie, saying that it was great and you were already comfortable. or you could tell the truth and say, “weird. everybody here is weird. either too chatty or plain mean!” but you disregard both options, deciding to dodge the question. “why didn’t you tell chris i came?” you ask with a small smile forming. charlie shrugs, “my bad. guess i just forgot.” but there’s something else that wasn’t said. you don’t question it though; instead spinning around and walking through the kitchen with lilith resting on an open palm. 

the cold, beautiful boy abruptly popped into your head. thumping up the stairs while petting your cat, you start thinking up an apology for him. you creak open your bedroom door, shutting it behind you quietly. lilith meows as you plop down onto the floor, not wanting to lay on your bed in dirty clothes. “i don’t even know how to apologize. i mean, what am i supposed to say??” you mumble out loud, looking into your fur baby’s dark eyes. “i can’t just randomly be like, ‘oh hey. sorry that i was staring at your captivating blue eyes for five minutes like a creep-- i’m not a creep, swear it!’” you lift up lilith as you speak in a silly deep voice, giggling at yourself afterwards while she stares back at you awkwardly. 

you remember charlie has a small keyboard in the hallway, sitting collecting dust. you exhale, plopping your kitty down onto the floor while you stand up and walk out your door, her trailing close behind you. you look down at the keys, gently tracing your fingers along them. lily stands on her hind legs, her front claws pressing against your calf curiously. you grin, picking her up sweetly and resting her on the keyboard’s rack where old sheets of music lay. leaning down, you push the wire into the plug, bringing the instrument to life. you play a few notes, lily shockingly staying still to listen. you softly hum along then stop suddenly. you’d started a small song back home on your grandmother’s piano but never finished it. it almost looked like lilith sighed when you stopped. 

the following day, you’re walking to your first period with a confident mindset. you’re somewhat dreading today, but also excited to attempt to make amends with your lab partner. during lunch, you make your way to jessica and her crowd like yesterday, quickly scanning the room as you sit down. no sign of matt. you look all around the room again. his three siblings were at their table, but he wasn’t with them. so much for making amends. he wasn’t in biology either, and a small part of you hopes you're not the reason he’s absent-- that’d just make you feel ten times worse. always looking for an excuse to go shopping, you decide that to ‘cheer yourself up’, you’ll look around a nearby thrift store after school. feeling a vibration from your purse, you pull out your phone to see a series of messages from your mother.  hi baby, how has everything been? why haven’t you texted me yet? is it raining? tell me everything. hello? yn are you there? you want to roll your eyes and chuckle at her impatience. you quickly type back, keeping your phone low so you don’t get it taken away. hi mom. everything’s good ! i didn’t text you because i didn’t really know what to say lol. of course it’s raining, it’s always raining :( “yn?” you look up to see jessica and her friends staring at you with a confused look. one of them scoots closer to you and looks down at your screen. “oooh, who you texting?” she smirks, annoyingly smacking on her gum. you lock your phone quickly, putting it back inside your bag. “oh, speaking of texting, you should give me your number! we’re all heading to the beach in like two weeks, and you should totally join us.” jess explains, moving her hands around as she speaks. you bite the inside of your cheek. what would you do at the beach? it wouldn't be sunny, that’s for sure. and how far is it anyhow?? there’s definitely no beaches in forks. well, maybe that’ll mean some vitamin d. you don’t ask these questions though. you instead exchange numbers with jessica hurriedly before getting to your next class. 

when you get home, you get a whiff of the delicious smell of steak. you shut the door and make your way to the kitchen. "i didn't know you could cook!" you tease your dad, remembering how there were always sandwiches sitting on the table for dinner when you were little. lily stands on her legs against charlie's ankle like a dog. you grin at your baby before walking over to kiss your dad's cheek in greeting. he chuckles at the joke, "well, a little while before ya came, i decided to teach myself. you're big now, won't eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every few hours."

once the steak was finished, you and charlie sat down at the small round table near a big window, eating silently as rain poured outside. it's a comfortable silence, you're glad he doesn't seem to mind the quietness either. usually your mother would be chatting it up by now, forcing answers out of you about boys (not that you ever liked any of them anyway, but you pretended you did to satisfy her). charlie coughs before resting his fork and knife down. "so how'd ya like school? you make any friends?" there it goes.

you nod, "school's good. easy. i have a few classes with this girl, jessica. she's very bubbly."

he hums a "good" and goes back to eating, deciding that's enough conversation for now. hesitantly, you start up again. "do you happen to know the sturniolo family?" he looks up chewing a mouthful of food. "the doctor's family? yeah, he's a great guy. we go fishin' sometimes." you bite your lip tentatively, wanting more. you play with the food on your plate mindlessly, thinking about how to bring up matthew-- or if you even wanted to. charlie scoots his chair back noisily, standing up with his plate in one hand and his other outstretched to yours. you shake your head politely, "i'm almost finished." he nods, walking to the sink to clean the dishes.

maybe you should forget about the weird situation, focusing on making friends instead. besides, the visit to the beach is in two weeks and you have no idea what you're gonna wear! finishing up dinner, you wash your plate before heading up the stairs, lilith trailing close behind. you drop your purse onto your desk, pulling out your phone as you do so. opening jessica's contact, you send a text asking for more details about the outing. not any more than five minutes later, she sends a response. hey! i totally understand, i'd wanna know where i was going too. and plus you dont even really know us yet. well the whole trip was nate's idea. you remember him right? the boy who's friends with chris? anywayssss, he's driving everyone to la push where he lives. he says the beach there is pretty decent! so bring your bathing suit you send her a thank you before shutting your phone. sitting at the desk, you wonder when chris'll visit. maybe sometime over the weekend. you really hope he does, you remember having so much fun with him as kids. reentering your password, you scroll through your contact list to make sure you don't have his information-- you don't.

before you knew it, the entire week had passed. it was like a blur, repetitive and dull. and you hadn't seen matthew again. over the weekend, you went thrifting like you'd planned. you didn't find much except for a cozy white cashmere sweater and a tiny pack of unopened hello kitty bracelets. you bought both obviously. you also went to the local library. that was disappointing. every bookshelf was so poorly stocked, you didn't even bother to get a card. you'll have to plan a visit to seattle or olympia because you will never be going back to that library.

on monday, a lot of people greeted you unexpectedly. you didn't get embarrassing stares when you walked in the hallway with girly fur boots and earmuffs, topped off with cute little gloves. it was snowing today and everybody was enjoying it far too much. when you were walking to class with nate, he stared at the tiny flakes like they were magic. the cold wind brushed at your red cheeks harshly. you love the snow, you never had any back home. a while ago, you bought all of the clothing you're wearing now just because it was cheap and adorable! your mother said it was a waste of money since you'd never have the chance to wear them, and they'd all end up being sold in a garage sale. you make a mental note to take a picture after school and send it to her.

nate finally breaks his romantic trance to face you. he laughs lightly at your annoyed expression while the wind blows in your face. you giggle with him before pouting. "shuddup." he scans you up and down, a small grin still apparent. "cute outfit by the way. very barbie doll." he compliments with a small hint of teasing. you smile brightly. "why thank you." as you two continue to walk, you notice a group of students throwing wet snow at each other. you move away while scrunching up your nose. nate chuckles and runs off to join them.

later at lunch, you stand on line with jessica and mike who were absolutely drenched in snow. you swipe some off jessica's coat while she picks out her food. you turn to the side for a moment-- just a moment when you see something unordinary out of the corner of your eye. well, someone. matt sturniolo in the flesh. "hellooo? yn, what do you want?" jessica snaps her fingers in your face, breaking your locked stare. you look back at the lunch lady, shaking your head. "um.. actually i'm not hungry." you mutter, leaving your tray and interlocking your arm with jessica's back to the table.

her eyebrows pinch in confusion, turning back at a similar looking nate. "yn, you need to eat lunch." you ignore her, sitting down at your usual seat. you take in a breath to calm yourself. gosh, why're you so anxious? you have nothing to worry about! you didn't do anything wrong... drowning out jessica's complaints and questions, you hide your face from the table, using the person sitting in front of you as a shield. you feel a little silly though. why should you be hiding? you bite the inside of your cheek shyly before moving your head up slightly to catch a glimpse of the group.

matt and madison were laughing with wet snow dripping from their hair. you catch yourself smiling at matt’s joyful face, quickly switching back to a neutral frown when you realize. but aside from the happiness and laughter, he looks different. his skin is less chalky-- maybe flushed from the freezing snow. the dark circles under his eyes are less noticeable too. you ponder while staring like you did the first day you saw them, except this time you’re only looking at matthew.

“yn!! what are you looking at?” jessica asks, turning her head to follow the direction of your eyes. at that exact moment, matt picks up his head to make direct eye contact with you. he doesn’t look harsh or unfriendly, but curious. he stares at you like a piero piccioni song or some sort of divine poetry. you look down shamefully, heat rising to your cheeks. jessica giggles, “matt’s looking at youuu..” she pokes your shoulder. you keep your eyes on the table. “does he look angry?” you whisper, though you meant to speak louder. she raises an eyebrow at this. “no.. why would he?” 

feeling queasy, you fiddle with the pretty rings on your fingers. “i don’t think he likes me very much.” you mutter girlishly, brushing some hair in your face to block your view of him even more. she chuckles irritatingly. “you say that like a 19th-century girl. besides, i think he does, the creep won’t stop staring.” she looks back at him with a stank face, waiting for his gawking to stop. you’re not able to see, but he doesn’t bother to meet jessica’s eyes. he looks at you with some sort of admiration.. it’s odd. it irks the girl, not that she’d admit it. 

you watch jess and her friends eat, buzzing about who slept with who. you ignore the conversation as well as the fluttery butterflies in your stomach at the thought of sitting next to matt again. you hope he stays this way, approachable and gentle looking. you like him better wearing a cheesy smile than a mean snarl. when the time comes, you get to the classroom before him (surprisingly), dusting little flakes off your skirt before they melt. you readjust your earmuffs before you hear the chair next to you creak. you don’t turn to look at him, already feeling apprehensive and shy. “hi,” said a quiet, soft voice. you swallow, looking up at him with doe eyes. he has a gentle, friendly smile on his dazzling face, something you didn’t expect. “i’m matthew sturniolo, i didn’t introduce myself last week. you’re yn swan, right?” you flick your pencil between two fingers while he speaks in a musical tone. you nod meekly, smiling back kindly. 

a box filled with slides is placed in front of you two. your teacher walks down the aisle, leaving boxes on desks while explaining the lab. “the slides in your boxes are out of order. you and your partner will take turns separating the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represent and label them accordingly. any questions?” you look at the boy next to you, he doesn’t look bothered at all. maybe he’s done this before too. your teacher gave the go, and students begin to decipher the phases. matt lightly taps the pads of his fingers against the table. “ladies first.” he grins so beautifully that you don’t respond. yknow, like an idiot. you grab the first slide, snapping it into place under the microscope before adjusting it to the 40X objective. “prophase,” you state confidently, pulling away from the tool. 

matt raises an eyebrow. he points towards the microscope. “you mind if i look?” you let out an airy “nuh uh” and push it towards him. he looks in, almost immediately agreeing. he switches out the first slide for the second. “anaphase.” he murmurs, writing it down below the first slide. you reach your hand out, locking eyes with him. matt smirks knowingly, sliding it back in front of you. you can’t help but allow the corners of your lips to turn up softly, you’re a naturally smiley person. he watches you examine the slide before taking it out. you both finish the assignment before anyone else. huffing, you grow bored after a minute of being finished. you swivel your head to matt. you notice another subtle difference in his face. his eyes are a different color. “did you get contacts?” you blurt out randomly, clearly not thinking before you did. his eyebrows pinch slightly in confusion. he shakes his head dismissively. 

there’s no way he’s not lying. you vividly remember his dark black eyes glaring at you a week ago. today’s a strange gold. but who has gold eyes? is that even a thing? his hands clench into fists again and you decide not to speak about it again. gosh, what’s his deal? minutes later, your teacher declares that time is up and walks around the room to check everyone’s work. he gives you an matt an A+ of course, you'd never expect anything less. it begins to rain, the water sloshing up the magical snow. “it’s too bad about the snow.” matt talks again, his eyes watching out the water-painted window. his hands are more relaxed, yet still tense. like he’s unsure about you. he moves his glance to you, waiting for a response. you shrug awkwardly, nervousness filling up inside. 

“you don’t like the snow.” he says, but it wasn’t a question. almost as if he were saying it out loud to himself. you sigh through your nose. “i don’t mind the snow. it’s pretty. i just don’t like the wet.” you counter. he smiles, “forks must be a difficult place to live then.” you shrug again. why's he being so nice all of a sudden? 

“may i?” his hand reaches out towards you, his head slightly lowered as his eyes flicker between yours and your hand resting on the tabletop. he wants to see your hand? your lips part, placing your hand into his. the skin is cold and soft causing a small gasp to come out. “sorry.” he whispers with a small chuckle before lifting your hand in his to admire your nails. you wait for him to call the sanrio charms childish or something prude. “i like them,” he says with a sweet smile, letting go of your hand. you don’t answer for a few seconds, taking him in. it’s crazy how just a week ago, he acted as if you were the worst person he’d ever seen. “you’re strange,” you grin sheepishly, the corners of your lips turning up more when he lets out a quiet giggle. a moment passes, and he decides he’d like to keep talking to you. “why’re you here if you don’t like the rain?” 

you have a bad habit of overtalking, though that habit has died down quite a lot since you moved to forks. well it seems like it’s starting up again. “my mom got remarried anddd the new husband plays minor league basketball, so he travels around a lot.. but she missed him a bunch since she wanted to stay with me at home. so i decided to send myself here with my dad, charlie. that way she could be happy with him.” 

he watches you talk with a fascinated expression, but he’s probably just being nice. you finish your explanation with a small look of glumness afterward. damn. you said too much again, and to someone may or may not give a shit. it’s hard to tell with him. he opened his mouth to speak at the same time as the bell rang. he gets up, swings his backpack over his shoulder, and runs out the door like last week. you suck your teeth before collecting your belongings and standing up to walk to P.E with nate. unlike a lot of people here, nate’s a very chill person. he doesn’t open his mouth with every step you take and is an okay person to talk to. 

you told him all about your trouble with any sort of physical activity (to which he chuckled playfully) and luckily, he was on your team today in volleyball. he guarded you the entire time like a loyal dog and won the practice. the class had ended a few minutes ago, and you were now walking out of the locker room into the drizzle. you see your lab partner leaning against his white volvo as you head to your truck. he clenches his fists tightly before noticing you, and sending a small smile your way. 

you make sure to text jessica later that day.  is matt bipolar?

you get a buzz back almost right away. uhh no. why would you think that? no reason

♡ tags ♡

@leah-loves-lilies @imtalkinnonsense @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @imsosillygoofylol @joanofarcily @slutsturn @imsosillygoofylol @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @mattsfavbigtitties @strnlxlqve @whosthislyssbitch

[xolliwritez]

Can you write something with lee!hyakkimaru & ler!mio? Not in the fandom but they look super cute!!

Finding His Voice || Dororo Tk Fic

A/N: OMG LYNNETTE I FUGGIN LOVE YOU AAAAAAA (please watch dororo I need people to talk too)

Summary: After Hyakkimaru slaughters yet another demon, he's taken back under Mio's care.

"Hyakkimaru!" Cheered out the brunette, embracing the mainly prosthetic boy into a warm embrace. Hyakkimaru merely looked down, seeing the white outline of her silhouette. "Come, come, you must ve exhausted!" Chanted Mio, guiding Hyakkimaru into the hut.

Dororo had been busy taking care of, totally not playing, with the other children around her age, letting herself let loose and play after ages of worrying about herself and Hyakkimaru's safety.

Suddenly, Hyakkimaru snapped back to reality, as he heard the soft singing of Mio, something he cherished oh so much. He felt himself swoon for the woman, despite being unable to see her, he'd bet she was a real beauty.

"Hm hm.. Hyakkimaru, you're hurt." Mio said, hand raising his left leg. Hyakkimaru hadn't noticed, but a bruise was forming along he's calf, just below he's hind knee. "Oh gosh.. You've been into trouble again, haven't you?" Mio sighed, watching as Hyakkimaru simply cocked his head to the side in dissapointment. She merely huffed out a soft laugh at he's adorable behavior, fingertips strayly tracing around the small bruise.

"No matter, it's merely a small bruise, it should heal in no ti- Hm? You alright, Hyakki?" Mio turned her head up, watching as Hyakkimaru's form tensed up underneath her feather-light touch, head ducking down as he's prosthetic hand came up to his own lips, covering whatever noise he was emanating out.

Mio took a moment to process this, watching he's reactions. She had taken care of many children of her time, so she was rather experienced with reactions like this, that's when she proposed.

"Oh my.. You're ticklish? Hyakki.. That's so precious!" Mio laughed strayly, sending butterflies through the mainly prosthetic boy's stomach. He's efforts doubled, as Mio changed her tracing to stray scribbles underneath his knee. "Come on, I want to hear your voice! I bet it's gorgeous!" She teased in a low voice. She knew from Dororo that Hyakkimaru had gained his hearing not long ago, so he was sensitive to noise, aswell as having gained his voice before he came back? She was desperate to even hear the smallest of sounds!

She watched in awe, the other taller male's body quivering as new sensations took over he's heightened senses. "If it's bothering you, just hold up your hand and I'll stop. Promise." She reminded, her heart fluttering in awe at each reaction. He hadn't let himself go yet, but the fact he was trying to stay still, all just for her to continue? It made her swoon for this man. She decided to up things just a small notch.

"Round a round a garden," She muttered, tracing around his bruise again, "like a teddy bear," she opted, fingers still tracing around his bruise, "one step," her pointer finger crawled up his leg, settling behind his knee, smiling amusingly as Hyakkimaru flinched, "two step," her middle finger reached behind his thigh, watching Hyakkimaru quiver, "and.. Tickle you over there!" She finally ended, squeezing against the rather soft flesh along Hyakkimaru's thigh, and right then and there? He bursted.

The prosthetic boy threw he's hear back, right arm reaching out for her, but not feigning for her to end it just yet. That's when she noticed he's laughter.

"M-Mihi-o! Feels- feheels fuhunneheheee!" His voice was music to her ears. He sounded almost angelic to her, voice soft, and giggles bubbly. She could listen to this all day and night if she wished to.

"Do you like it? This is what we call 'tickling'... It causes you to laugh, and ot feels..?" She opted, leaning her head down to listen to his reaction.

"Fuhunneheheee!" He repeated, curling inwards just the slightest, even opting to hide his face against the crook of her neck.

"That's it.. Keep giggling, just relax into i-"

"I think I walked in at the wrong time.." Spoke a younger voice, causing Mio to squeak and stop her playful attack.

"Dororo- I swear, this isn't- No-!" Mio flushed, face bright rose red, as she rubbed her face into Hyakkimaru's neck, the other giggling still.

Dororo laughed, walking in, "I knew he had to be ticklish! You're a big liar, aniki!" Dororo pointed out. Boy, this will be a long night indeed.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Ascribe to the Lord Glory

1 Give unto the Lord, O ye mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength.

2 Give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name; worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.

3 The voice of the Lord is upon the waters: the God of glory thundereth: the Lord is upon many waters.

4 The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.

5 The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars; yea, the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon.

6 He maketh them also to skip like a calf; Lebanon and Sirion like a young unicorn.

7 The voice of the Lord divideth the flames of fire.

8 The voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness; the Lord shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh.

9 The voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve, and discovereth the forests: and in his temple doth every one speak of his glory.

10 The Lord sitteth upon the flood; yea, the Lord sitteth King for ever.

11 The Lord will give strength unto his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace. — Psalm 29 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 6:17; Genesis 8:1; Leviticus 26:6; Numbers 6:26; Numbers 13:26; Deuteronomy 3:9; Judges 9:15; 1 Samuel 7:10; 1 Kings 5:6; 1 Chronicles 16:28-29; 2 Chronicles 20:21; Job 39:1; Job 39:9; Psalm 8:2; Psalm 24:7; Psalm 26:8; Psalm 68:33; Acts 7:2; Revelation 10:3

Psalm 29 Bible Commentary - Matthew Henry (concise)

[rongike]

Hirvekaamera@YouTube

[naturaltolife]

Agere: Deer —Aesthetic

Baby Deer

Generally, both male and female baby deer are called fawn, kid, or calf. Adult male deer is known as a stag or buck. Female adult deer are a hind or doe.

[nyaskitten]

Here are my concept designs for "The Stone Wars" prequel idea that's been spinjitzu-ing in my brain since yesterday

ID's under the cut instead of on the images now because holy shit they're not very usable on the actual images. (ALSO they're long as FUCK!! I tested with like, a v standard, basic screen reader and it took 4 minutes and 30 seconds???)

also please reblog this took a lot of time and I hate how the Stone Warriors came out (aside from Kozu kinda, his head is too big tho) :(

[id:

The first image depicts the Lego Ninjago villain known as "the Overlord" in his "first form". He is seen with four arms, all in varying forms of motion. He has black skin, with several golden markings. He also has four legs, akin to that of his "centaur form" from Ninjago Crystalized. He has a very long, purple loincloth, and he wears grey and gold thigh guards, as well as grey and gold bracelets. He has a long tail with a large tuft of fur at the end, and two sets of horns, one reddish-pink, one white. He also has very messy hair, akin to a mane. The text on the image reads (from left to right) "Overlord's 1st form", "Retractable(?) claws", "2 sets of horns", "Thighs/wrist armor similar to Stone Warriors", and "left hind leg".

The second image features "The First Spinjitzu Master", whose name is abbreviated on the canvas as "FSM". He wears a dark sandy colored gi, with yellow lines on the left, and purple on the right. He wears a golden belt, and black pants. The inner side of the pants has one purple streak and one gold streak. On his arms he wears golden wrapping, and on his calfs to his shins, he wears a darker sand color, with brown shoes. He has a long, golden tail with fluffy parts. His hair is brown and sandy, with a sandy spot in the brown. He also wears a dark-sandy conical hat, and has a braid wrapped with gold.

He has four arms surrounding his body, all floating, separated from himself. The text reads (from left-to-right); "FSM - Post-Soul Split", "Floaty arms", "His gi still has purple, only changes AFTER he beats the Overlord", and "Dragon horns not grown".

The third, and final image depicts four members of the "Stone Army", those being "Kozu", "Stone Warrior", "Stone Swordsman", and "Stone Scout".

Kozu is a large, bulky warrior dressed in red armor, with black sleeves, and red bracelets lined with silver. He wears a dark red belt around his waist, and two sets of thigh guards for each leg, red and silver. He also has armor similar to a loincloth. On his breastplate is a silver medallion with a green gemstone, and a few spikes. He wears a black samurai helmet, (meant to depict the Helmet of Shadows) with a silver mantle. He also wears a red mask, and has green eyes, white "skin", and red markings on his face. He also has red and silver boots.

The Stone Warrior wears red and silver armor like Kozu's however his arms are solely red, with black hands. He has similar thigh guards to Kozu's, and he wears a black samurai helmet, with red horns on them. On his chest is a grey medallion with a green gemstone. His skin is black, and he has green eyes and red markings on his face. He also has red and silver boots.

The Stone Swordsman has a red and silver breastplate, and plated armor that's colored dark gray underneath. He has a dark red belt, and much simpler thigh armor than Kozu and the Stone Warrior's. He wears one pauldron on his right arm, with a few spikes sticking out. He lacks armor on his arms, and instead shows his yellow markings on his black skin. On his chest is a grey medallion with a green gemstone. He wears a red conical hat and a dark gray samurai mask over his mouth. He also has red and silver boots.

Lastly, the Stone Scout is much shorter than the other soldiers, sporting a red conical hat, an archer's arrow holder on his back, a shoulder pad on his right shoulder, a right arm with minimal armor, and a left arm covered in armor. He has a dark red belt, red and silver armor all over his torso, and thigh guards. Unlike his fellow soldiers, he lacks any footwear. On his chest is a grey medallion with a green gemstone. He also has black skin, green eyes, and blue markings./ end id ]

[sinnohsiblings]

◀️◀️ for Zephyr??? 👀

There was so much excitement in the air, the Zacian pup's tail wagged wildly as he scampered down the grand white halls of the creator's palace. His father had brought him along to meet Lady Ashani for the first time. This was an exciting moment for any pup in the pack to finally meet the great creator they'd one day pledge their life and loyalty to, well at least once they were old enough to understand the meaning of that pledge.

The pattering sound of Zephys tiny paws filled the halls as he giddily picked up his pace with his father walking father ahead him with an amused smirk. The Zamazenta halting to bow down as a rift tore through the air in front of him. Zephyr paying no mind slammed into his father's back legs and the Zacien pup let out a light "oof" Shaking his head and walking between his father's legs he hid himself under his father as he peered out from under his father's shield-like mane to see who he was bowing to. The warrior Wyrm his mother had told him stories about slithered through the rift, her snake-like form melting seamlessly into a 6-legged dragon, she was so much bigger than the stories made her seem, her cream body only seemed to make her nearly white silver and sapphire blue accents gleam against the contrast of the white halls.

His tail wagged again, making thumbing noises and it slammed against his father's hind legs, Lady Galaria was as inspiring as the stories made her seem. She seemed to pay them no mind as she continued down the adjacent hall, Zephyr almost didn't notice the small green and gold mass of the calf that had nested itself on her back. "It seems Lady Galaria finally birthed her calf." He heard his father say pleasedly, "One day Zephyr you will pledge to protect our newest Lord of the Void. " "Why were they green? Mama said the lords of the void with golden metal could only have red bands. Like Ladia Galaria is silver with blue bands." "Hmm...I don't know, Zypher. Perhaps our newest lord is just someone special even amongst their own kind. Now come, Lady Ashani is waiting for us. I'm certain she will be in excellent spirits given the new arrival."

Zephyr nodded and happily trotted after his father.

[goobyblob]

you haven't been here in years, but it's just as you remember it. dusty pews scattered with light from grimy stained glass. there's a smell of age in the air.

except, this time, the pews are empty. and she's there.

you know she's your girlfriend. objectively. your sinful, hedonistic, god-hating homosexual of a girlfriend.

she plays a priest quite well.

her dress is different, and her face is twisted into a scowl, and as her gaze finds your eyes you feel a pungent stab of shame and anxiety. your eyes flick away, unable to hold her gaze.

her hand roughly grabs your chin and wrenches your gaze back to her eyes.

"kneel."

you collapse onto your knees without a second thought. you're barely able to stand anyways. she keeps her hand on your chin, nails painfully digging into your skin. she pushes your cheeks in and you feel your face morph into something pathetic.

"what has become of you?"

she got the tone right, perhaps too well, the ink of judgement and disgust staining her words. again, a deep flush of shame floods you, but a drop slowly falls down your spine until it plunges into your core, a deep throb just barely noticeable. for now.

"you were sweet. godly. we taught you well."

she glances up and down your body, a sour expression on her face.

"clearly, not well enough."

"what happened? when did you first let another woman debase you so? when did you surrender your purity for pleasure?"

a few moments go by, and you realize she truly was asking you, though her grip on your face didn't lessen.

you answer meekly, words stumbling through smushed lips.

she tuts.

"of course. where else would it be."

"did she know what you were? did she find pleasure in dragging you from godliness, in corrupting you with her fingers, rotten and stained with sin?"

"or were you already corrupt? did you hind behind a mask of purity as you debased yourself? did you spend late nights dreaming with your fingers in that nasty cunt? did you lie to her? did you say you were experienced just so she wouldn't hold back, fuck you deeper and harder and nastier than a pure girl deserved?"

you can only whimper. the low hum in your core is now a deep, pulsing, overwhelming throb that beats along your heart. with a whine your hips buck and find nothing but air, your slick cunt desperate for any stimulation or friction at all.

your gaze meets hers again, and the sheer disgust on her face draws out another whine from you.

"you will never step foot in this church again. you should be banished to the sinful, the hedonistic. you will become their plaything, for even they know there is no value for one as depraved as you beyond a sloppy hole."

she tilts her head.

"something tells me that isn't so upsetting to you."

her foot rises and finds your waist band. with one push, she tugs your clothing down with such heft that you are forced to the ground too, bare cunt now resting against her boot.

from this angle, collapsed on the floor, she looks massive, towering over you. the sun comes out behind the clouds and illuminates the stained glass behind her, forming a crown of light around her head. in that moment, even the most logical parts of your mind surrender.

the woman above you is holy, divine, sent from above to punish your sins and right your ways. and you're desperately humping her boot.

the shoe is so slick from your own wetness that it doesn't even provide good friction, your cunt sliding along it as your hips buck and jolt in erratic movements. your cheeks are burning hot, and they find solace on the coolness of her leg, your arms wrapping around it as you cling desperately.

though the friction is dulled you're almost grateful, as the bits of pleasure you get are almost overwhelming in their magnitude. your linked hands on the back of her calf are the only thing holding you up, the rest of your body weight pressed against her boot, and as you look up you see that gorgeous, holy woman above you, and the thought of how far you've fallen is what finally tips you over the edge.

something shatters inside of you and the knot of pleasure inside of your core finally tumbles apart, and a wave of golden overwhelming sensation spreads to the tips of your toes to your scalp, and your mind surrenders to the golden light for longer than you know, until it's fading and you're collapsed on a boot, cheeks sticky from dried tears, thighs sticky from the drenched boot you're still weakly humping, muscles worn and mind foggy.

she picks you up with surprising strength. you don't know where you're going, but she's so, so comfortable.

and then you're set down on your back, splayed out across something, and something thick and heavy just settled on your bare stomach. something familiar, something you've felt deep within you before.

you open your eyes, and you're surrounded on all sides by gorgeous, holy paintings, light from the stained glass shining on your bare, sticky body.

she leans over you, until her lips are slotted right next to your ear.

"what's one more sin?"

her lips curl into a smile.

"though I can't think of one worse than getting fucked on the altar."