a to z nails

anonymous asked:

please give me [MEAN AND GREEN] “Dude, this is romantic as fuck.”

“What is this?”

Nail quirked a brow at his partner. “What is what?”

Piccolo shrugged and gestured between them. “You know. This. This thing we have.” Nail blinked. He honestly hadn’t thought Piccolo had noticed the growing chemistry between them. “I don’t–” Piccolo paused, frowned in thought, tried again. “I like you,” he told Nail bluntly. “But I don’t know how.”

“Alright.” Nail rubbed his forehead. He’d signed up for this when he’d agreed to spend his days sparring with a grouchy, emotionally dead ex-demon. “What do you mean, you don’t know how? You don’t know how you could possibly have developed feelings for another person, or–”

“Dammit, Nail, that isn’t what I mean and you know it.” Piccolo folded his arms and glared. “I don’t know if I like you platonically or–s-something else.” He averted his eyes at the last minute, a faint lavender blush starting to dust his cheeks. “I’m just trying to figure out if you feel the same or not.”

“Hm.” Nail stepped towards Piccolo cautiously, not wanting to scare him off. He knew Piccolo’s fight or flight instincts had a hair trigger. Thankfully, he held his ground and didn’t look like he was about to punch Nail. “So you like me, huh?”

“Yes.” Piccolo met his eyes defiantly. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Nail took another step and put a hand on Piccolo’s shoulder. “Absolutely not.” He grinned. “In fact, I’m rather fond of you myself.”

“So–” Piccolo was fully blushing now, but he still met Nail’s eyes, even if he swallowed nervously in the middle of his sentence. “Is this–what is this? Platonic or–”

“Dude.” Nail leaned forward to touch their foreheads together. “This is romantic as fuck.”

anonymous asked:

Can I request number 6 in "For want a Nail" form 🙏. Pretty sure piccolo would be the that kind of partner in a relationship

“You can’t kick me out! This is my bed!”


Piccolo rubbed at his eyes, half swaying on his feet. He’d never been this tired before. His eyes hurt and his head pounded and it was a struggle to concentrate. He never should have started skipping out on his meditations. And for what? More sparring, more training, more excuses to spend time with Nail. It was pitiful. Weak and pitiful. And now he was going to pass out for it.

“You’ve been neglecting your body again, haven’t you.”

Nail’s comment was not a question. He propped his hands on his hips, looking at Piccolo impassively. Piccolo shrugged. “What, you care or something?” His voice was rough with exhaustion and he winced to hear it. Disgusting.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Nail shook his head. “This may shock you, Piccolo, but most people have this thing called ‘compassion’ that compels them to feel bad for others.”

“I know what compassion is,” Piccolo growled, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It helped ground him and woke him up a touch, but he was still bone tired. He was going to collapse from exhaustion at this rate.

“Here.” Hands were on his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. “You need to sleep.”

Piccolo tried to glare at him, but he wasn’t sure how successful it was. “I don’t sleep. You don’t sleep. Our entire species doesn’t sleep.”

“We do if we’ve been forgetting to actually take a rest for a week straight,” Nail shot back. “Just for a little while. Humans call it a ‘power nap,’ I think. Come on.” He tugged, and Piccolo followed, not bothering to resist. There wouldn’t be much point, anyway; in his state he could only put up a token resistance. Nail could overpower him easily, and he refused to give the bastard that satisfaction.

Nail led him down the hallway to the room he’d taken over when he and Piccolo first defused and Nail started living on the Lookout. From what Piccolo knew, he mostly used it as storage for the things he collected when they went sparring–rocks, branches, dried plants, living plants in tiny jars or pieces of broken pottery. There wasn’t much other use for it, since they didn’t sleep. Piccolo certainly never used the room that Mr. Popo insisted belonged to him. The only one who ever slept there was Gohan on the rare occasion he stayed on the Lookout overnight.

To Piccolo’s surprise, though, the bed in the corner looked fairly well used. He raised a brow at Nail, who shrugged. “It’s comfortable, and sometimes I like somewhere quiet to relax with a good book. Now come on, lie down.” Grumbling, Piccolo crossed to the bed and started to crawl onto it. “Hold on.” Nail’s hands gently lifted Piccolo’s turban off. “You don’t want to have your weighted clothes on for this. I swear, Piccolo, that’s half the reason you’re so tired all the time.”

“Some of us aren’t happy getting complacent during peace time,” Piccolo muttered, but he tugged his cape off and let it fall to the floor before crawling onto the bed.

As soon as his body hit the mattress, it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. Shit. Nail had been right. Piccolo needed this. The last thing he registered before dozing off was a slight dip in the mattress behind him.


When Piccolo woke, it was dark, and he peered blearily around to see if he could figure out where he was. It was comfortable, and warm. His eyes started to drift shut again. Surely a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

Something shifted behind him and his eyes blinked open again. There was an arm across his waist, pulling him flush against a body. He rolled over and squinted through the darkness. It was Nail, of course it was Nail. Piccolo couldn’t even be surprised.

Although wait, yes he could. It was all coming back to him now–he’d been so tired, and Nail had dragged him to his bed to sleep, and there he was, and there Nail was, except why was Nail with him? Such proximity was making Piccolo feel things, uncomfortable things, the same things that drove him to seek Nail out every waking minute while also screaming at himself to push Nail away. It took a long time for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they did his vision was filled with Nail’s calm, sleeping face, and he swallowed.

Nail was so…attractive. There was really no other word for him. His full lips were parted slightly and Piccolo wanted to touch them. But that would be so inappropriate, so he held back, instead resting a hand on Nail’s side and closing his eyes again. He still needed his sleep.


The second time Piccolo woke up, it was to Nail’s smiling face. “Hi there,” he murmured. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Piccolo mumbled, blinking sleep from his eyes. The situation suddenly registered, far clearer than it had while he was still half-asleep, and he shoved away from Nail, his back slamming into the wall. His eyes went wide and panicked. “What the hell?” he demanded. “Why–why are you here?”

“I needed some sleep too.” Nail shrugged with one shoulder. “Come on, can’t a guy sleep in his own bed?”

“But–” Piccolo rubbed his forehead. “I’m sleeping here. Get out.”

Nail jerked back in shock. “I–you can’t kick me out! This is my bed!”

“Well I–you–we can’t be in the same bed, that’s just weird.” Piccolo shook his head and sat up. “I’m not sleeping with you. If you won’t go, I will.”

“What, so you can work yourself half to death again?” Nail grabbed Piccolo’s shoulder and shoved him back down. “I don’t think so.”

Something in Piccolo’s stomach twisted about how easily Nail could push him around, but that wasn’t the problem right now. The problem was Nail’s very handsome face directly over his, and the colour creeping up Piccolo’s exposed neck. “Let go of me before I do something we’re both going to regret.”

Nail leaned down, fangs bared. “Try me.”

Without thinking, Piccolo grabbed both sides of Nail’s face and pulled their foreheads together with an audible clack. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his antennae around Nail’s in a searing kiss. Yes, this is what he’d wanted, what he’d really been searching Nail out for. Nail didn’t move against him, but he didn’t struggle either, and Piccolo opened his eyes to see Nail staring bewilderedly at him.

“What…” he whispered hoarsely. One hand came up to cup Piccolo’s face. “What are you doing?”

Piccolo swallowed. “I can’t sleep with you because I don’t understand what these feelings are yet.” It was only a partial truth, but it was easier than the full truth. He understood his feelings just fine–better than usual, a little too well, even. He just didn’t want to admit them. “I want to kiss you and–other things.”

“Other things?” Nail smirked and slid one antenna up Piccolo’s, drawing a startled gasp. “Well. Lucky for you,” he said, brushing a thumb over Piccolo’s cheekbone, “I want to kiss you too.”