Crayon Pop Soyul Novels & Stories

In the middle of the table, a small box labeled in big letters: “CRAYON (NO EAT!)” “Today, table center meeting,” Poppy says, dipping her brush into the watercolors and accidentally dripping a little onto the sofa. “Miss Lila changed the class layout. Very disaster.” “Very disaster,” I echo. “I see. Any casualties?” “Almost.” She shakes her head dramatically. “Clara almost cry because she moved to near the board. She said gate view more fun. At gate she can see people. At board she only see lethers.” “Letters.”

There was no room for anger or pain, only one goal: to finish the formulated cream to treat the ailment that was consuming nearly the entire surface of her skin. ​Once the cream was formulated, Sua poured it slowly into several small earthenware jars. She worked meticulously, making sure not a single drop was wasted. The scent was faint, like freshly picked leaves, with a slight shimmer from the Itun oil mixed with the Pakaya aloe sap. The cream was a pale greenish color, smooth as silk, and felt cool against the skin. ​One by one, the jars were sealed and covered with violet cloth. Sua sighed with relief when the work was done. She set aside one special jar, smaller than the rest and adorne

“Club, baby. Some Tinder guy dragged me here. Thought he was gonna be my Prince Charming. Turns out, his cock was like a crayon. I had to cancel the deal.” I threw my head back, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. “A crayon? You didn’t!” “Bitch, yes I did.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “And not even the jumbo pack, like those tiny-ass broken crayons you find at the bottom of a kindergarten desk. Tragic.” I wheezed. “You should never settle for a crayon in the form of a cock, JoJo.” “Period!” He snapped his fingers. “Big, bold, thick, like a Sharpie, minimum. Otherwise, I’m out.”

I looked up at the boy who was adorable with golden-brown hair and large silver eyes that kind of glinted like pearls in the moonlight. “W-what’s a Crayola?” I asked. He blinked, “It’s a crayon, dummy.” He answered waving a flat white board at me. He pointed at it. “I was drawing.” His palm was still open; the weapons or as he called them crayons were in different colors. Red, Yellow, Green… Humans sure had interesting stuff on the land. The boy was putting it back into the box when his little handles fumbled and the box emptied into the water.

It was a tiny movement—the curve of her lips changed by just one millimeter, from flat to slightly raised, and then back to flat again. “Did she buy you crayons?” Jenny’s gaze fell on the pink crayon in Olivia’s hand. The crayon was already one-third used up, with its tip worn into a dull round shape. The paper wrapper was covered in fingerprints and crayon crumbs. “Mm.” Olivia held the crayon up and turned it in the gray light. The crayon’s pink color shimmered softly under the light. There were a few tiny cracks on its surface—the crayon tended to crack when exposed to low temperatures. The cracks ran along the crayon’s texture, like dried-up riverbeds. “She said I can draw whatever I want

She tested the quality of the red-colored pencil on her hand on the first page of the intermediate pad; it created a brightly colored line which gave her the exhilaration to continue her practice. She began to inspect the other art material like the oil pastel crayons; she opened the rectangular-shaped package and read the brand name: Crayola. Oil Pastels Neon. There were 12 pieces inside the box with the named colors written as hot magenta, shocking pink, radical red, outrageous orange, neon carrot, laser lemon, electric lime, screamin' green, graphic green, aqua brite, blue bolt, and vivid violet. She found the names funny. In her deep curiosity, she tested the quality again and found it t

When the gremlins knew about that, they almost scolded him but then he said, "Well, I'm rich, so I'mma just gonna buy what books I want." Upon hearing that, some gremlins fall into a state of agony while a gremlin almost scolded him in French. After many disputes and arguments, the gremlins finally let Noel kept his books on a condition of an extra Gremlin Pops for each of them. Gremlin Pops is a candy that Noel created to reward the gremlins for their hard work in the library. The ingredients to make those were also easily obtained, that is concentrated pure honey mixed with habanero sauce and some sugar and fairy dust.

But what made the sensations even more intense was knowing he wanted me too. Caylen grinned and turned, pulling me along behind him. We stumbled into the apartment, the furniture pushed into the middle of the room and everything covered with either plastic tarps or old bed sheets. The edges had been taped down to the hardwood floors, and an old coffee can filled with brushes sat atop an upside-down box. An opened box of condoms stood next to this with a hefty bottle of lube. There was no sex without safe sex. “I got a bucket of green off the Internet!” Sue shimmied into the living room, her breasts bouncing with her enthusiasm. “It’ll be perfect with yellow and pink. And they’re apparently n

I asked the gasping mortal. "Success! I am relieved!" he exclaimed, weak yet joyful. "But don't you have soap? My hand smells like poop," Mino complained. I quickly took the box-shaped soap I had purchased earlier, which was still wrapped in fabric. It's a bright crimson produce with the essence of a fragrant flower and a frothy solution. When we got home, I planned to give it to mother.