#the gecko eye lick

[moonamite]

Minor updates to my Dealer design (The scutes n scales texture update if you will)

I swear I don’t know why I’m giving him reptile traits

[lovelywingsart]

I got another new bab from NaldThal on toyhouse and I love him SO MUCH

His name is Flick

He's my cracked out little gremlin child with rabid chihuahua energy and I absolutely adore him uwu

//Thal makes amazing designs and usually I try not to horde them all (also partially due to money-), but I genuinely could not go without him.

He's so dumb.

I don't think he'll be fully be one of my Resident Evil OCs, but you can bet your ass I'm eventually drawing him with Emelia and Karl.

I can tell you right now that he freaks Karl out and it's great.//

[spiribia]

My favorite thing about universes geared around dragons is when they start going F it a “dragon” is any animal

not relevant to my point but look at these ones

[danjiisthmus]

Tangerine Leo Morph

Tasty!  Piece for grecko

[fledermoved]

*takes a nap*

*wakes up*

*does 2 drafts*

Hm. I think i woulge like. To taste another sleep .

[rufwooff]

Hey... Sorry for bothering you

I heard that due to their anatomy, geckos are forced to lick their eyes, and when I look at GeckoDonnie, I can't stop thinking about THIS:

P.S. Your interpretation of these boys is very cool, I like it so much))

SG9USVHGVISIYGSOGSUOOUHS

[sixteenseveredhands]

Namib Sand Geckos: these nocturnal geckos have biofluorescent markings that emit a bright, neon-green glow when exposed to the moonlight

This species (Pachydactylus rangei) is found only in the Namib Desert, which stretches across Namibia, Angola, and South Africa; the geckos typically inhabit the arid, coastal region known as the Skeleton Coast.

In order to escape from the blistering heat of the desert, they use their webbed feet to burrow down into the sand during the day, and then emerge only at night, when the temperature has finally dropped. The webbing on their feet also enables them to run more easily across the dunes.

Namib sand geckos are covered in translucent scales, but they also have a strangely colorful appearance, as the colors/shades of their circulatory system, spinal column, internal organs, and optical membranes remain partially visible through the skin, producing various shades of pink, dark blue, purple, magenta, orange, and yellow.

They also have several distinctive markings running along their lower flank and encircling their eyes; these markings are known to fluoresce when exposed to UV light (including moonlight), emitting a bright, neon-green glow.

Some researchers have theorized that the biofluorescent markings may act as a signal to other geckos, allowing them to locate one another in the vast, desolate expanse of the desert, as this paper explains:

The fluorescent areas of P. rangei are concentrated around the eyes and along the lower flanks. This positioning is practically invisible to predators with a higher perspective (e.g. birds and jackals), but highly conspicuous from a gecko’s perspective. As P. rangei is sociable but generally solitary, and occurs at low population densities, such a signal might serve to locate conspecifics over greater distances ...

Encounters in P. rangei might serve purposes beyond mating opportunities: as the Namib desert has extremely low precipitation, fog is a key water source for its flora and fauna. Fog condenses on the bodies of the geckos, and they lick it from their faces. In husbandry, we have observed individuals licking water from conspecifics, taking advantage of a much greater available surface area.

Additionally, after short periods of isolation, the geckos run to meet each other. The combination of vital hydration with socialisation might reinforce signals that enable such meetings, and the cost of visibility to predators with higher vantage points, might constrain the signals to regions best visible from eye-level and below.

The Namib sand gecko is the only terrestrial vertebrate that is known to use an iridophore-based form of biofluorescence (you can find a more detailed explanation of that mechanism in the article mentioned above). The fluorescent dermal markings are also unique to this species.

Sources & More Info:

Scientific Reports: Neon-green fluorescence in the desert gecko Pachydactylus rangei caused by iridophores

Animal Diversity Web: Pachydactylus rangei

Dr. Mark D. Scherz's Blog: A Neon-Green Glowing Gecko!

Australian Geographic: Skeleton Coast - Namibia's strange desert dwellers

[seoafin]

pairing: vash the stampede x fem!reader warnings/tags: jealous insecure vash, you get hit on twice, vash's pov gets kinda depressing, takes place before and after and I know it’s hard enough to love me, stampede coded vash word count: ~4.3k

Vash the Stampede is a complete enigma to you.

In the span of the four hours you’ve been following after the blonde, you’ve witnessed him get bullied and dragged around by a group of children who had unanimously decided to tie him up for fun, help a distressed woman find her poisonous pet gecko, and frantically try to explain his startling similarities to the humanoid typhoon to a threatening group of individuals who had cornered him on the street, loaded guns in their possession. 

You watched him nervously laugh off their claims until they had left, one by one. Then he breathed a large sigh of relief, before meeting your eyes with a grin and two thumbs up.

He just can’t say no.

You’re still thinking about this troubling tendency of his when you slide off the rooftop, and twist through the alleys to the bar you had seen when you and Vash had first entered the town yesterday.

This time, he’s following you. He must have run out of people to help. All the way to the bar. And when you enter through the swinging entrance, you don’t need to turn around to hear the doors swing open again, not even seconds later.

Shouts ring throughout the bar, as several patrons happily greet him with a raised mug of beer and smiles. Already, he’s grown on people.

You slide onto a barstool. “I’ll have a drink,” you say, giving the idling bartender your order. The aged man proceeds to pull several bottles from the rack hanging behind him. You look over your shoulder to see Vash sitting down at a round table behind you. When he catches your gaze, he smiles, hand already lifting in an eager half wave as his fingers curl into air. 

You don’t understand how he can look so happy to see you, as if you're an old friend he’s seeing for the first time in years, every time you meet his eyes. As if you haven’t been traveling together for the last few months. You've never stayed with an individual for longer than a week or two, other than your mother, but you know for sure Vash is strange. An outlier. You don’t understand how he constantly stays happy, upbeat and optimistic. No man is that happy, upbeat and optimistic. It’s suspicious.

The acrid scent of smoke and alcohol enters your nose before anything else, and then a hulking man with a bulbous nose is sidling up close to your side, despite the empty seats next to you. You ignore him as he gives you a long look up and down. The man in front of you mixing your drink gives him a distasteful glance. 

A wide, crass grin stretches his face as he licks his lips. 

“Yer a pretty thing, ain’t ya?”

You stare ahead. He’s not even worth brandishing your gun for.

He frowns when you don’t respond, trying again. “Whatcha doin’ in here, in this part of town? A lil’ lady like you is going to get eaten by the wolves.” He leans in close, and his breath fans against your cheek. You don’t bother to hide your distaste when he indiscreetly adjusts his pants. “I’ve got a place downtown…”

You’re going to shoot him, you decide.

Your hand goes to your side, but before you can remove your revolver, a blur of red rushes into the sliver of space between the two of you, forcibly separating the man from you. With his back to you, Vash lifts his hands in an act of surrender. The man tries to no avail to move towards you in either direction, but Vash swiftly meets him every time before he can step towards you.

“We—”

“What’s yer deal!?” The man asks angrily, drawing Vash close, hands fisted into his shirt, teeth gritted. Vash is taller than the man, so to see him tuck his knees inwards to be level with the man would be almost comical if you weren’t so annoyed.

A high pitched laugh escapes through his teeth. “Ahaha! About that—”

“She yours or somethin’!?”

Your already short patience stretches thin.

Panic floods his face as he glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Of course n—”

“Then it’s none of yer business anyhow,” he grouses, leaning in close. “Why dontcha butt out, and that way nobody gets hurt.”

“No,” Vash says firmly, unusually solemn, all pretenses of distress fading in a blink. He grabs the man’s arm with a steady hand of his own. “I can’t.”

You step to the side, and point your gun right at the man’s temple, already cocked. The bar quiets, eyes on your standoff. In your peripheral you can see multiple hands on belts, ready for a shootout. Vash’s eyes go wide, mouth agape as he looks at you. Then your gun. Then at you. 

“Put him down,” you say plainly. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Yeah, put him down Eli!” A voice exclaims. 

Others voice their agreement. 

The man blinks. Then he throws his head back and uproariously laughs, fist loosening on Vash’s shirt, letting him down with a slump. “Playing with guns, little girl? Why don’t you come on over, I’ll teach you the right way—”

You aim down, and pull the trigger.

A single shot rings through the bar. The man shrieks in agony as the bullet goes through his foot, clean. You watch him jump around on one foot, holding his other foot in his hands, crying out for help as blood gets everywhere. What a mess. The bartender only shakes his head as people begin to surround the hollering man. You think he might as well kill himself now. Not a single survival instinct. The last thing he should be doing after a bullet wound is moving around like a headless lizard.

You throw a sack of coins on the bar. The drink you hadn’t even gotten and damages to the floor. You grab Vash by the hood of his red coat and drag him out the bar as he gawks at you. You drop him outside and start towards the town’s caravan stop. In a few seconds, Vash has caught up with you, side by side.

He looks troubled. Lost in thought. 

“I didn’t kill him,” you say. Although you probably would have not even three months ago. That would have ensured you wouldn’t be bothered in the town again by a handsy drunk.

You don’t know why you feel the need to explain yourself. You figure you can’t keep silent when he’s looking at you like that , waiting for some kind of explanation that you would usually never entertain.

“Should I have let him all over me?” You ask tonelessly.

The snaps him back to attention. “No! It’s just…” he sounds unsure, almost uneasy. “You were just…protecting yourself.”

You wonder what kind of life he’s led. To be able to be the way he is. A pacifist, in this world. Someone who refuses to pull the trigger on his .45 long colt unless absolutely necessary.

“Not everybody gets to choose to not kill,” you reply, not as curt as you could be. “Some people don’t have a choice.” Not everybody has the strength to protect themselves without violence. Sometimes, it’s just survival. The choice between you or them. Sometimes, it wasn’t anything more than that. No hard feelings. The second your hands had touched your revolver, you had gained your footing in the world. The gun, the great equalizer. And in your hands, death. 

You never had a choice. And then you did.

Vash’s face falls. “I…I see.”

You find yourself searching for words, anything at all to wipe the miserable expression on his face away. “I didn’t kill him,” you say slowly. “But I could have.”

He lifts his head, blinking. “You… could have,” he repeats.

You don’t say that had the man come any closer, if he had touched you, you would’ve put a bullet in his head, right through his brain. And then you would’ve let the animals have him.

Vash slowly regains his smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But you didn’t.”

Although the smile on his lips often seems more trained than instinctual, a defense tactic, you can’t deny that in the end, a smile suits his face much more. 

“I can take care of myself,” you say, fixing your gaze straight ahead.

He hums. “I know.”

You sigh.

-

-

-

“Over here!” Tony exclaims, wildly waving at Vash for a pass.

Vash kicks the ball over, watching as the other children surround the freckled short boy, eager to steal the ball back to their side. They had divided the teams seven to three, the children citing that the team with Vash on their side had the upper hand, therefore it was only fair for the teams to be unevenly divided. Vash had no qualms with it, neither did Tony or Sonya, who had grabbed Vash by the arm (shorter frame pulling him down to her level) and declared that the next victory would be theirs.

He can’t help himself. He looks towards where you’ve been sitting by the benches in front of the town square’s fountain, watching him kick around a ball for the better half of the hour with the town kids, unmoving, except for the small curve of your lips. Vash can tell when your gaze is on him. Some eighth sense that also has him gravitating towards your orbit, unconsciously and consciously. His feet take him to you, wherever you are. Lucky for him, nowadays, he doesn’t need to walk more than a couple steps to reach you.

Usually you’d be gone, taking care of your own business while he explored the town or city, and its inhabitants, before the inevitable bounty hunter or criminal looked a bit too closely to his face, his red jacket, and made the connection. Maybe you’d stop by the sheriff’s office, flashing your identification badge, and then flip through recent wanted posters. Maybe you’d get a bite to eat. Then you’d just follow the bullets and the trail of destruction to easily meet up with him.

He never knew definitively. You had never really answered his curiosity with more than a noncommittal comment or two. It doesn’t matter now though, because now you stay with him.

The sun looks good on you. He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until a ball hits him smack in the face and drops to the ground, leaving him with a sore, red face and a bruised nose. The kids startle to a stop, gawking at him with wide mouths. There’s silence, and then raucous laughter.

“Vash!”

“Is he okay?”

“C’mon Vash, you lost the ball!”

“It hit him in the face, did you see that?”

“That’s a foul! You did that on purpose Lock!”

“Nu-uh!”

He sees you shake your head, amused, and knows that the warmth he feels isn’t entirely from the sun.

Tony runs towards him, ball held against his chest, breathless. The blue cap he wears is askew. Vash fixes it for straight. “You alright, Vash?”

Vash runs a hand through his hair and laughs. “No harm done,” he says cheerfully. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention, sorry about that!”

Sonya looks concerned. “Don’t worry about that! It’s all Lock’s fault anyway!” She turns around, sticks a finger under her eye, pulling it down, and blows a raspberry. “You’re horrible Lock!”

The older boy returns it with a raspberry of his own, and then crosses his arms. “He should’ve been looking in the first place, instead of at his girlllllfriend!”

Sonya’s eyes are wide as he feels his face go red. He nervously tugs at the collar of his shirt. The kids gathered around him erupt into laughter again. A quick glance in your direction, and he sees the raise of your eyebrow, lips tight in suppressed laughter he wishes he was there to hear.

“Is it true?” She asks him, brown doe eyes wide. “Is she your—” her voice drops conspiratorially “— girlfriend?”

He sticks a hand in the girl’s hair and gives her a good natured ruffle as she giggles. “Something like that,” he says, despite the elation that fills his stomach, to avoid fully answering the question, as if speaking whatever fragile thing the two of you have into existence might permanently alter it. 

Girlfriend.

What a mundane word for something as all consuming as the love he feels for you. He feels as if his chest might just burst with it all. But he can say that now, call you his in some way that makes him both terrified of overstepping his bounds and even more terrified of you leaving.  

“Hey Vash,” Tony says, insistently tugging on the sleeve of his coat. “There’s a guy chattin’ up your girl!”

You aren’t happy. That he can see clearly. Your expression has shuttered as a man closes into you with a wide smirk, overtaking his view of you. The last thing Vash can see is your thoroughly unamused expression.

He’s not aware of his feet taking him towards you. He doesn’t think. All he sees is how the man rests a hand on the holster of the gun attached to his hip, as if flourishing it, and he’s moving.

“A good ole’ romp in the bed is what you need,” he hears the man remark vulgarly. “Promise, it’ll fix you right up.”

“No,” you reply bluntly.

His cocksure grin fades with a scowl. “Now, don’t be like that. Nobody likes stubborn broads. I’ll be sure to show you a good time.”

An arm reaches out to roughly grab you, but Vash reaches him first, the metal of his left hand wrapping around the man’s wrist, tightening. The man yelps.

Vash blinks at the noise. You stare, looking at him with your head slightly tilted to the side.

He tears his arm back so quickly it gives him whiplash. His hands are automatically raised in a show of harmlessness as he nervously laughs.  

He hadn’t meant to grip him that tightly .

Unless… he had.

The man’s face is bright red in anger, looking at his left arm as if it’s the devil. “Who do you think you are!?”

Vash shifts ever so slightly to keep his arm out of view. It’s been a while since he’s been so self conscious. People asked questions, and sometimes they looked at him funny. It used to hurt his feelings, the way he was looked at as an outsider, even though he was. The rest of No Man’s Land wasn’t like the inhabitants of ship No. 3, who knew his origins. His identity as a plant.

Now it’s a constant reminder of it. Of Nai. Of their first of many confrontations a hundred years ago.

He’s not human, not like the man in front of him. Not like you. 

You stand, asserting yourself into the space between him and the man. You give him a dismissive look, before grabbing him by the left hand, and turning on your heels, pulling him along. Your fingers squeeze his metallic fingers in a way that shoots sparks up his arm, right to his heart. As you drag him along the kids holler their goodbyes, and all he can do is smile, wave back, and follow. He’d follow you anywhere, he thinks, easily keeping up with your pace. To the ends of No Man’s Lands to space and back.

He wonders if you’re angry. If you’re annoyed at his intervention. He hadn’t meant to be so…forward. His body had moved before he could think. 

But…you’re…you’re his now, aren’t you? You kissed him, held his face between your hands, and smiled. You don’t smile a lot, but you smile for him. He thinks that if anything, that means the most. When he told you he wasn’t human you readily accepted it, as if you had been expecting it. Then you asked him if it hurt when Nai had cut off his arm, and when he told you he hadn’t felt much of anything, really, from the shock, because he was a plant, you had frowned and told him to stop lying. 

Now, the two of you sleep together. You let Vash hold you in his arms, and he tucks you into the crook of his neck, and you don’t even complain when he locks you in his embrace, even though you could. Even if you could leave. And on nights he can’t fall asleep, terrified that in the morning you’ll have been nothing but a fantasy, he counts your soft slow breaths in his neck until the sun rises, the seconds until you wake up and give him that sleepy smile he likes to think is reserved just for him. 

So now Vash stands closer to you than he had ever previously dared. In larger cities with crowds, he’s right at your side in the bustle taking the brunt of the jostling as you lead the way. And when there are no locals to make conversation with, no children to entertain, he trails after you, wherever your whims take you. You like heights. Rooftops. High vantage points from where you can look down. He thinks it makes you feel safer. You’ve always been aware of his presence, even though you never used to acknowledge him. Now you do. Now you let him hold your hand, and he doesn’t feel like Vash the Stampede, whose sins stare back at him every time he catches his face in a reflection, but a man hopelessly in love.

You push him up against a wall in an abandoned alley, and he relishes in the close proximity, smiling dumbly when you lean into him. He’s not expecting you to kiss him, but it sure would be nice—

Until he remembers that you might be mad. That he had accidentally hurt that man. The yelp that had been twisted out of him. The smile promptly falls from his face.

“I—uh—”

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Of course I am,” he says cheerily, but all he can think about is that man reaching for you, the gleam of desire in his eyes (directed towards you ), and his two whole arms (one more arm to hold you with), and there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach, a wretched miserable thing that hovers a bit too close to the surface of his face. “Just fine!”

Your eyes narrow, just imperceptibly, while you scrutinize him in silence. His gaze momentarily darts away, fleeing, and then back, to see that you’re still staring at him, eyebrows furrowed as if you’re trying your best to think of something to say. Words don’t really come easy to you. Vash thinks it’s cute, that thinking silence of yours, where he can almost see the gears in your head turning as you struggle for an empathetic response after years of curt silences and dry one worded responses.

You purse your lips, bottom lip jutting out ever slightly.

Cute.

“Liar.” You glance down at his left arm, and Vash resists the urge to hide the prosthesis behind him.

A shadow falls on your face as you look down. “Is it me?”

“No!” He blurts out. Guilt churns in his gut, and he’s not sure if it’s because he hurt that man or because he isn’t sorry. He wants to say that he didn’t mean to, but that would be another lie. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him badly. Just… enough that he’d leave you alone. That he’d stop looking at you like that as if he wasn’t there. There was already someone by your side.

“I shouldn’t have hurt him,” he says finally. He can’t help himself when he adds, a touch defensively, “But he shouldn’t have been…” Vash feels a rush of heat reach his ears from your discerning gaze. “He…” almost touched you. He would’ve yanked you up, been rough with you, and just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean that it’s okay. Sometimes, he thinks you’re too used to it. Every night he counts the scars on your body with the same tenderness you’ve afforded him, that he doesn’t deserve, and he feels his heart weigh heavier.

Vash would never forgive himself if you got harmed on his watch. 

You look up at him. “He…?”

He isn’t…getting ahead of himself is he?

He loves you, and not a night goes by where he doesn’t think it. He’s loved you since the night you pulled him close and kissed him. He’s loved you since the moment he realized that the silence wasn’t so bad, so lonely, when he had someone to share it with.

He had assumed he meant as much to you as you do to him—

Your lips twitch into a small smile, and the sight stops his thoughts. You step closer and bury your face into his neck. His arms automatically wrap around you as he relaxes into your body, smiling at the ground.

“I love you,” you murmur, so soft that even his ears strain to hear it. He doesn’t even have the time to feel giddy before you pull back, reach for his neck, and bring his lips to yours.

He’s eager to reciprocate. The worry that maybe he’s holding you tightly around the waist doesn’t even strike him until a second later, but by then you’re happily exhaling into his mouth, and raking your fingernails down the back of his neck until he’s shuddering into you. 

You back him against the wall without a missed beat and he happily follows. One of your hands snakes down to his prosthetic, entwining your fingers together. He gives your hand a squeeze back and when you smile against his lips, he knows that it’s the most lovely sight he’s ever seen. The first time he had ever seen you smile, it had invoked the same amazement and wonder in him as seeing Rem’s red geraniums for the first time. 

But you aren’t a flower to be gazed at and plucked by curious onlookers. This smile is just for him. And Vash thinks, once again, for the fifth time in a day that hasn’t ended, that as much as he loves you, he also doesn’t deserve you.

He’ll tell you again tonight. This time, while you’re awake. Not…everything. Not enough that it could scare you away. Just enough, like how he likes gazing at you when the sun hits your bare frame in the scarce mornings the two of you have a bed, or the way your eyes light when they meet his, after a few hours apart. How it makes him feel…

Like a child again. Happy. The world at his fingertips. In the bed he and Nai would share, watching clips of some old earth movie underneath the covers. In Rem’s hugs, his arms wrapped around her neck, clinging to her tightly, as if she might disappear if he opened his eyes. The sound of her laughter in his ears. Lovely and fleeting.

Pressed against him, all the warmth of your body and lips, a breathy moan builds up in his throat as you have your way with him. As selfish as it seems, he wants more. As much as you’re willing to give. As much as he dares to take. He likes the way you say his name, especially when you’re in the throes of pleasure, when you’re looking down at him with so much love that he’s choking on his words, and his chest aches with it.

Someone giggles.

You separate, your lips enticingly spit slicked and swollen, your thumb tracing the underneath of his right eye. You like his beauty mark, have remarked on it more than once, the color of his eyes, and every other part of him that makes him flush from head to toe. He knows he’s not much to look at, but every part of him, except his burdens, belong to you. And if you can find something worthwhile to look at when you look at him other than disgust and horror, then that’s more than enough.

He lets his arms fall from your waist as you step away, and he already misses your closeness.

“Children shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” you say coolly, but not coldly. There’s a glint in your eyes as heads pop up from the crates towards the back of the alley. 

“We were just making sure everything was okay!” Tony exclaims, running up to you. He grins knowingly at Vash and attempts a wink.

You raise an eyebrow.

Sonya approaches, dragging Lock with her. “ And Lock wanted apologize for hittin’ Vash in the face!”

“Wha—!?” Lock sputters, looking at the girl in betrayal. “Sonya!” He squints at the ground. “...Sorry.”

Vash kneels down. “Apology accepted,” he says softly, a smile on his lips. He’s a good kid. So are all the kids in this town. Sonya with her ever present glowing smile. Tony and his mischievous wit. The blue cap he doesn’t go without. Lock and his grudges which hide a large, genuine heart. Billy and Mary and Kirk and everyone else.

Vash is almost tempted to stay a couple more nights, but he knows he can’t. Not with Nai having been spotted to the South. Another plant stolen, more fatal casualties. He has to leave before there are more. If he were a better person, he’d leave you behind. He stares at the ground.

He briefly feels the weight of your gaze. You gather the kids’ attention.

“You kids hungry?”

Tony and Sonya and Lock perk up.

“I am!” Tony says.

“You’re always hungry!” Sonya scowls.

“Are you the one with the money?” Lock asks. “Cuz’ Vash is broke.”

That draws a huff of laughter from you as Vash smiles sheepishly, pushing the worries plaguing his mind away for now. Until night falls upon No Man’s Land, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms. That’s when he’ll worry about whether or not he deserves to be happy with you.

Sonya reaches up to grab your hand with a big smile. You glance at him.

“Any good pizza places around here?”

[crying-pan420]

Do you think Jonathan sims had to lick his eyes like a gecko in s5

[great-and-small]

Told my friend that I’ve always wanted to get a really good photograph of a lizard licking its eye because it’s one of the cutest things they do and she was like oh my god I have the perfect gecko for that let’s make it happen. The model was a true professional and she obviously understood my vision

[yandere-daydreams]

i keep misreading leopard gojo and leopard gecko 💔

leopard gecko!gojo au but he's not a yandere and has to solely rely on eating his own skin post-shedding to inflict psychological damage onto you. and licking his own eyes and stuff. honestly it would still probably be preferable.

[count-alucard-tepes]

Headcanons for my One Piece hotties - Useless talents they have

Kizaru ✨: snaps his fingers real loud and then zaps off like it’s a weird party trick. He just an attention whore.

Akainu🌋: he writes only in cursive and sometimes writes backwards to trick people. He’s the only person who thinks it’s funny.

Ryokugyu 🌱: he can spin a basketball on his finger

Fujitora 🐅: he can tie his yukata into shorts

Sir Crocodile 🐊: he can peel a boiled egg with one hand

Doflamingo Donquixote🦩: he can roll his tongue into three

Benn Beckman 🔫: he can make his ears move on their own

Katakuri Charlotte 🍡: he can spilt a donut perfectly

Killer🔪: he can whistle with four fingers

Kaido🐉: he plays beer pong really well…but then he drinks all the booze and beats up everyone

King 👑: because he reads so much he can remember the exact dates of things that happened…that is irrelevant to anyone around him

Queen👑: he can recite Newton’s laws of motion off by heart

Izou🔫🔫: he can do his make up and hair with his eyes closed

Dragon D Monkey 🐉🐒: he can flips coins between his fingers

Oven Charlotte 🍞: he can sing national anthems of several countries/islands

Buggy🤡: he can sing with his mouth closed

Marco the Phoenix 🦅: he can cut an apple with his finger

Eustass Kidd🤘🎸: he can beatbox

Rosinantè Donquixote aka Cora-San💕: he can make his lipstick last while eating

Who’s Who ❤️‍🔥👹: he can sleep with his eyes open

Gecko Moria🦇: he can lick his elbow

Iceburg💜: he can float while napping

Gild Tesoro⚜️🏅: he can stack cards/cups up real high when he’s bored…he might even sing a song to go with it.

[dark-elf-writes]

Kid four being a weird little dude is so important to me.

The others are like we love you lots but you gotta chill out my guy. You’re scaring the cat with your gecko impersonation.

Meanwhile he’s staring back at them, eyes wide fucking open, without blinking because geckos lick their eyes but his isn’t long enough so he just has to hold out as long as he can u til he succumbs to the blink

Isnfjdjdjdjdjsnndad like all the kids are weird in their own way but Kid Four is weird in his own special way. Just a strange little dude that each of the other kids would fight to the death for if anyone even thought of being mean to him.

When asked what they want to be/who they want to be like when they get older there is of course a lot of “Cloud! Tifa! Barret!” With even a few odder ones like Tseng and Reno thrown in, but Kid Four doesn’t even hesitate before he answers

“Cait Sith.”

They all blink. Denzel slowly asks “You mean like Reeve?”

Kid Four shakes his head. “I want to ride a giant Moogle and tell fortunes for a living.”

Cloud doesn’t even blink at that only ruffling the kid’s hair and telling him he can see if Reeve has the time to make one of the Moogles big enough to carry the kids around. (And honestly he’s relieved. He loves his friends, loves the kids, but he wants at least one of them to want a different life. To not want to be a fighter. To have the peace and opportunities available that they can be so unapologetically them without fear of what will happen to the rest of the world or if they will have the money to support themselves being a fortune teller. They will. He will make sure they will.)

[phenakistoskope]

me, to the gecko on my wall: i wish i could speak with you, that we understood each other, and that we could be friends. i have read a book about your biology, and while i have learned many things about your body, your organs, what you eat, and how you live, i am no closer to unveiling the machinations of your heart and mind.

the gecko on my wall: *licks its eye*

[drconstellation]

Aye, a Newt

I have to get this "She turned me into a newt!" thing out of my brain, sorry. It keeps demanding to be written. So here it is.

There is a "newt" parallel between S1 and S2, you see. It's a pretty sly joke. Easily missed by most, I would think.

Some of this I have mentioned before, but lets repeat it.

The CGI initially didn't make it clear to me what kind of reptiles the kids of Job were transformed into by Crowley, and it wasn't until I saw an article about the CGI that I found out they were supposed to be geckos. Ah! Right. Makes sense. Geckos are more likely the kind of thing to found in an arid area like the Middle East... But I can tell the CGI team isn't that familiar with the cute little beasties. See, I grew up in a part of the world where they are a common thing, and a part of everyday life, particularly during the warmer summer months. And those CGI geckos lacked a bit of authenticity in my eyes. Such as the on-screen geckos never once licked their eyes clean with their tongues. Or squeaked. And yes, ...barking geckos are a real thing. Feisty little buggers they can be, too. They don't want you messing with them, and they let you know. The whole turning kids into geckos bit is great imo. Take a look at this shoulder-angel view just beforehand.

Yep. They're on the wrong side. Little devils. Then the two older devils kids proceed to piss the older devil demon off, who promptly turns them into newts geckos with a snap of his fingers, which left poor sweet I'm-Jemimah-and-I-made-this-pot! feeling left out, who had done nothing wrong, asks to be a blue (Heaven-coded) one, and who can resist that little honey, hmmm?

OK. Newts, or geckos, they are both lizards, and they were usually associated with the occult and their use by witches. But where did this come from?

Er, not the "Scottish Play"...although they are mentioned there:

“Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.”

Reptiles such as geckos and lizards had magical qualities to the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamian's, as they were able to regenerate their tails if they lost them. So they were a very apt choice for our witch, I mean demon, sorry, to turn Job's kids into. Crowley and Aziraphale did have to "regenerate" them back into children later on the next day.

Then we have Newt joining forces with Anathema, the modern day witch, in S1.

Yeah. Enough said, there, I think.

[dawnfire12]

Wrongful Desire Seth Gecko

word count: 1076

notes: The character is 20+.

warnings: smut, hostage situation.

summary: Reader is the oldest sibling in the Fuller family and even though she knows it's wrong to fraternize with the man who is holding them all hostage, she can't escape her desire.

I shut the door to the small bathroom in the RV and leaned against the sinking, staring down at it wondering what my life had become.

A few hours ago, my sister, brother, father and I were on a roadtrip to Mexico as our father said we needed a journey to cleanse ourselves. Really, it’s to try and distract us from his wife and our mother’s death but as the oldest sibling I can’t complain. Just have to go along with it, get my siblings to follow and everything will be a-okay. 

That is until we pulled into the Dew Drop Inn and were held hostage by the famous Gecko brothers.

And we’ve now crossed the border of Mexico with the two brothers and hopefully we should be released soon. 

The yank of the bathroom door makes me snap my head to see Seth coming into the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” I arch my eyebrow.

“I have to take a piss and you are taking forever so I figured I might as well just do my business and get out of here.” He waves his hand.

I turn to fully face him so my back is pressed up the sink, “You couldn't have waited a few more minutes?”

“I probably could have but where’s the fun in that?” He takes a step closer to me.

I put my hands up against the sink trying to separate some space between us however the bathroom is way too small and there’s nowhere else for me to go. His feet touch my feet and there’s a sliver of air between our chests. His dark brown eyes gaze into mine. 

I know he and his brother have been terrorizing us all day with hostage situations but I can’t deny that he is very attractive. My sister would kill me for thinking this.

“What’s it going to be? Are you going to step outside or are you going to stay here?” He whispers.

I lick my lips and glance down at his lips before looking back up to his eyes,”I’ll stay here.”

He leans forward and kisses me. It was a very soft kiss as if he was scared to break me. He pulled away and I leaned forward, putting my hands around his face to bring his lips back down to mine again. This time he added a bit of force to the kiss and wrapped his arms around my waist.

He pinched my waist causing me to gasp and giving him a chance to slip his tongue in. I let out a very soft breathy moan and moved my hands around his neck. Our lips started moving faster and it became harder to breathe as his tongue was engulfing me. I pulled away to breathe and his lips continued down to my neck where he started to suck.

I moaned and pulled at his hair. His teeth grazed along the hickies he started to make. He slipped his hand under my dress, into my underwear and into my pussy. 

His first finger slips in easily and he moans, “God you are soaked. That better be all for me.”

I whimper as he thrusts his finger in and out, “Only you.”

He kisses me as he slips in a second finger. 

I pull away from his lips, “Seth.”

He groans and moves his fingers faster, “You sound so pretty when you say my name.”

As the familiar burn in my stomach starts coiling and getting ready to be released Seth removes his fingers.

“As much as I would love to have you finish as many times as I’d like we are on borrowed time.” Seth pulls off my underwear, stuffing it into his pants pocket before unbuckling his pants and shoving them down to his ankles.

He pushes my legs more open and slowly inserts himself into my pussy. As he goes in, I open my mouth forming an “o” shape and lay my head back to stare at the ceiling. 

“No, no,” He grabs my face,”Eyes on me.”

I nod and move my hands from his neck to his arms. I’ve never felt so full before. It has my toes curling in. He puts his hands on my hips and thrusts upwards. 

“Oh god.” I moan.

Seth continues bringing my hips down to meet his upward thrusts. I wrap my legs around his waist trying to bring him closer to me. My hands grasped at his arms, feeling how muscular they are. His cock hits that one spot that makes me gasp out his name.

He grunts,”Right there? That’s where you need me princess.”

“Yes! Please!” I cry.

He angles his hips so his cock can keep hitting that one area. My legs start shaking and I start crawling at his arms.

“Please Seth! I want to come so bad!”

“Yeah? Are you going to be a good girl and cum all over my cock?”

The pressure starts building and building. His thrusts get faster and faster. I keep clenching from how good it feels. 

“If you don’t stop clenching me, I’m going to cum in you.” Seth hisses.

I whine,”Please.”

He grabs my hair,”Is that what you want? My cum in you?”

“Yes Seth! Please! It feels so good! Please cum in me!” I beg him as the pressure starts getting close to exploding.

He reaches down and rubs on my clit. The moans come tumbling out of my mouth as the pressure finally explodes and my vision goes white.

“Oh Seth.” I whisper.

He thrusts into me as I ride out my high and he kisses me while his hips start stuttering as he cums in me.

“Fuck. You feel so good.” He whimpers and stops thrusting.

We stay still catching our breath before he pulls out. As he pulls out we both let out a sigh. He pulls his pants back up and buckles his belt up. I smooth my dress and hair down. He puts his finger under my chin and kisses me again.

“I’ll see you on the other side.” He winks before opening up the bathroom door and leaving to go sit on the couch.

I giggle and run my hands through my hair. I bit my lip and stared at the ceiling. No matter how good it felt I’m still so fucked as I know have to face the rest of the family in the RV.