#avoid brain tricks

[zentarablog]

Top 10 Ways Your Brain Tricks You Every Day (Cognitive Biases Explained!)

Have you ever wondered why you sometimes make choices that don’t quite make sense, or why you’re so sure about something even when the evidence isn’t fully there? Well, get ready for a super cool adventure into the secret world of your brain! Your brain is amazing, a true superstar that helps you learn, think, and explore. But just like even the best superheroes sometimes have a tiny weakness,…

[rat-rosemary]

Horse anxiety got the best of me, I was wearing the most Dream stan fit to college today (Dream themed nails I just did and homemade Dream hoodie) and the Ranboo fan I was scared of was totally chill and we had a nice conversation :']

[megkuna]

this girl i went on a couple hinge dates with (we're online buddies now for the most part, ironically) keeps sending me memes about being a bottom like ok girl i get it. me too / let's get over this

[jemmo]

i watched only friends ep 3 for the third time and i am stuck on nick saying the line “no one dares hurt me”. bc in context it’s nothing, and he says it with this slight smile that’s still a little disappointed but just trying to play it off and you could just see it for what it is, just him trying to act fine that boston is abandoning him or whatever. but where’s the fun in seeing things at face value. bc this is post him seeing the pictures and seeing and finding out who top is and putting the wiretrap in boston’s car and seeing boston talking to top (i don’t think it’s clear whether he actually hears what they’re saying about ray and mew and meeting up later and sticks around to see what happens, or is just generally sus of boston and hangs around bc he’s just sus and so happens to see them). this is post this constituted story he has that was sparked by that tweet about liking someone else and that’s why you can’t become something more. he thinks top is that person (and he’s kinda right), that boston likes top more than him, despite boston constantly calling him his favourite. you can see the pieces falling into place, that while boston’s behaviour serves to keep himself in control and have nick on this leash of always being there and keeping him interested with the promise of more that will go nowhere, for nick, it doesn’t just hurt him in these sad ways that keep him dependent on boston to feel good about himself and thinking he has this special relationship when he doesn’t. it also hurts him in ways that boston wouldn’t have intended, ways that turn nick into someone dangerous, someone that can be boston’s downfall. bc now he looks at top not just with sadness and envy, but with anger and disgust, bc who is this person?? what right do they have to be the person boston likes more than me?? when im the one he goes to all the time, when i have this connection, when our relationship is progressing?? bc the feeling of comparing himself to top, and his inadequate that makes him feel, bc of course he isn’t enough, of course he’s not better than top, of course boston would like him more, that can so easily turn and become something dangerous, bc you lash out at other people instead of lashing out at yourself. it’s that thing of i do everything, so why have i not earned your love?? that’s what he says in the trailer to boston; “i just want you to love only me”. it all comes together to make me think nick is gonna be the one that really starts shit. that idk, either through just telling people or maybe that wiretrap can record what happened, he’s gonna be the reason the whole mess starts to come out. and idk if he’s gonna just let it out and let boston get shit for it as a way to get back at him for hurting him, bc bc of his feelings, bc of that line in the trailer, bc i think he still depends on boston’s affection and validation, i think it’s more gonna be a matter of him doing it to push top and boston apart, so that when it all falls apart, the end of it all he can say to boston i did it all bc i love you, bc top doesn’t deserve you, bc i want to be the only person you love.

and you can see how it would happen, when it all comes out and ray and mew clarify that there’s nothing between them and everyone gets mad at boston for fabricating these stories to manipulate people, who do you think is gonna be the most mad?? top. bc he’s the one being messed with, his relationship with mew, and it’s all just ultimately bc boston wants to have sex with him. the man is ruining his relationship just for a fuck, and at this point we don’t know if there are any actual feelings, or if it’s just so that boston can feel superior and in control still. the whole point is that bad behaviour yields bad behaviour. boston is a dick, but he also doesn’t know that he’s feeding in to his own downfall. and nick is being manipulated and taken advantage of, and that’s horrid and sad, but he’s also not this helpless victim. no, i very much believe he intends to bite back just as hard as he’s been bitten. and it still hurts bc it’s such a realistically human bad relationship, the person that lacks self worth and so over invests in a relationship to give them that worth back, and the person that doesn’t want commitment but also doesn’t want to lose control, and so they dangle promises they’ll never keep like bait to keep someone trapped. and it hurts bc the ways nick will turn and start acting out aren’t just his fault, bc boston played into it and made him believe, only for it to be broken. and this is not victim blaming, but you also can’t baby nick and make out he’s harmless, helpless, defenceless. you can’t not see the grey in him. bc he’s expecting boston to be something he’s not, and so you can’t say it’s fine when he gets mad that boston isn’t that thing he wants him to be. you can’t excuse him being overly invasive of a private space like he has ownership over every part of boston and his life. yes i get it, boston plays into it, but at some point we’ve got to stop using that as an excuse, bc the behaviour is still bad, and i feel like it’s only gonna get worse. im calling it, nick is gonna turn into a mess that boston created and become something he can’t control, and it’s gonna all come back around and destroy him. bc it’s not just a matter of messing with the wrong person, it’s the fact that boston doesn’t think anyone can mess with him back, and he doesn’t realise just how catastrophic the consequences of his actions are gonna be.

[chiisana-lion]

drew headshots of my good friends online of a few years in realism for an assignment some time ago (it was disastrous but i got a passable grade at the very least) and each time a classmate asked to see without fail theyd ask if one of them was a self portrait and no. thats my beloved best friend there that looks nothing like me so i showed them the photo and 9 out of 10 people my own elder sibling dearest included says yeah he looks kinda like you. insane

[keeps-ache]

ohh i do Not like my hair being wet ouhrrr

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

🕳️ What to Write When You Have No Idea What Happens Next

aka: you’re staring into the creative abyss and the abyss is not only staring back, it’s asking for a rough draft

hi writer. welcome to that fun little liminal space in your project where ✨absolutely nothing✨ makes sense. you wrote the last scene. you know you’re not at the end. but suddenly your characters are just standing there like NPCs waiting for a quest marker and your brain is doing the spinning beachball of death.

so. what now?

let’s break down some actually useful strategies for when you hit That Point™️. not vibes. not ✨manifest your way out✨ energy. not the “just keep writing” slog. here’s what to do when your story is refusing to tell you what happens next:

———————————————

zoom out: do a “scene audit” ———————————————

you don’t need a full outline to do this. take five minutes and sketch a bullet list of every scene that’s happened so far. not just what happened, but why it mattered.

like this:

MC lied to their boss (sets up stakes re: trust/power)

antagonist shows up at cafe (establishes tension + location crossover)

best friend gets suspicious (emotional complication, adds pressure)

this gives you a birds-eye view of what you’ve set in motion. often you’re stuck because you’ve lost sight of the threads you were pulling, your own story has momentum, you just need to feel it again.

—————————————————————

try “ghost drafting” (aka fake writing) —————————————————————

open a doc. start typing what would happen, if you were writing. super casual. something like:

“okay i think the next scene is maybe them at the train station?? or wait--maybe we need to see the fallout of the argument. i don’t really know what x character wants rn but i think y might be planning something…”

this trick works bc it removes pressure. no fancy prose, no perfect structure. it’s literally you telling yourself what might happen. and weirdly? your brain will often finish the scene for you without asking. (the number of times I’ve ghost drafted myself into 800 usable words… witchcraft.)

——————————————————————————

pin your characters to a corkboard and interrogate them ——————————————————————————

not literally. (unless you're into that. i don’t judge.)

but seriously: when you’re stuck, it’s often because your character has no immediate goal or emotion. pause and ask:

what does this character want right now? like, in this moment?

what are they trying to avoid?

what’s keeping them from getting either?

character-driven scenes are rarely static. even if it’s just an awkward dinner or walking to the store, someone’s always trying to do or hide something. if everyone in the scene is just reacting or waiting, you’ve got fog. bring in the fire.

—————————————————

don’t skip the “boring” stuff--weaponize it —————————————————

sometimes we’re stuck because we think the next scene is dull. like “ugh i guess they just… travel to the manor” or “they regroup at the safe house.” but these slow beats are GOLD if you embed purpose.

try giving the “boring” scene:

a time limit or interruption (they’re hiding but someone knocks)

a secret (someone is lying about something small but important)

a reversal (what they expected is the opposite of what happens)

even if it’s a quiet scene, layer it. conflict isn’t just yelling or action. it’s discomfort. it’s misalignment. tension between what’s said and unsaid.

—————————————————————

when all else fails: write the next emotional beat —————————————————————

strip it back. forget plot. forget pacing. ask yourself:

then write that. a monologue. a journal entry. an outburst. a line of whispered dialogue.

sometimes it’s not that you don’t know what happens next. it’s that your character hasn’t processed what just happened, and until they do, the story can’t move forward.

✨✨✨

the void is normal. getting stuck doesn’t mean you failed or picked the wrong idea or that the muse packed up and left for a better writer’s house. it just means your brain needs space to regroup.

writing isn’t linear. stories aren’t built in perfect lines. they loop. they stall. they circle back. and that’s okay.

if you’re in the middle of nowhere, here’s your sign to sit on the side of the metaphorical road, open your weird little notebook, and write anyway. write wrong. write messy. write ghost drafts. the path shows up when you start walking.

🕳️ you got this, writer.

tag me if you end up crawling out of your stuck scene with a little victory paragraph. i’ll bring snacks for the next one 🧃✨

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

[ruloaapaul]

“YOU’RE NOT STUCK — YOU’RE JUST A LAZY PROCRASTINATING BITCH.” 🐆🥂🩶

so you wanna enter the void, manifest your dream life, get rich, be hot, and have people obsessing over you, BUT YOU CAN’T EVEN GET YOUR LAZY ASS TO DO THE WORK? be fucking for real. you’re out here acting like you have a real problem when, in reality, you’re just avoiding shit like a weak little dumbass.

ive noticed a pattern—y’all aren’t actually “struggling” with the void or manifestation. you’re struggling with your own laziness, your own excuses, and your own weak-ass discipline. and honey, if you don’t fix that, you’re gonna stay exactly where you are: broke, lost, and watching others live the life YOU could’ve had.

“WHY YOU PROCRASTINATE (and how to fix your dumbass behavior.)” 🪩

you keep telling yourself, “oh, I’ll do it tomorrow” or “i just need to be in the right mindset” BITCH, TOMORROW IS A LIE. you will NEVER feel “ready.” the motivation you’re waiting for? It doesn’t fucking exist. action comes BEFORE motivation. you don’t feel motivated THEN do the work. you do the work, THEN the motivation comes. you either force yourself to start, or you stay stuck like a dumbass.

** FIX IT: use the 3-second rule. the second you think about doing something, count down from 3…2…1… and just start.

“YOURE ADDICTED TO AVOIDANCE — BECAUSE YOURE WEAK AS FUCK.”

you “just can’t bring yourself” to do it? so what, bitch? do it anyway. your problem isn’t a lack of ability. it’s a lack of discipline. youre more comfortable avoiding things than actually fixing your life. WEAK BEHAVIOR. you’d rather scroll for hours and waste time than take 10 minutes to get your shit together. PATHETIC. you think avoiding the work makes life easier? NO, BITCH. IT MAKES IT HARDER. Now you’re stuck, overwhelmed, and hating yourself.

** FIX IT: use the 10-minute trick. tell yourself, “i’ll just do this for 10 minutes.” 10 minutes is nothing. but once you start? you’ll keep going.

“YOURE MAKING SHIT SEEM HARDER THAN IT REALLY IS.”

you “don’t know where to start”? oh, it “feels overwhelming”? BITCH, YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF. you’re making it seem like a big, scary process so you can justify not doing it. the void? lay down and shut up. THAT’S IT. manifestation? assume it’s done. move on.

** FIX IT: break shit down into small steps. instead of saying “i need to manifest the perfect life,” say, “i need to affirm for 5 minutes.”

“YOURE LETTING YOUR FEELINGS CONTROL YOU LIKE A WEAK BITCH.”

“but i don’t feel like it…” BITCH, NOBODY CARES. if you only do shit when you “feel like it,” congrats, you’re gonna stay a failure forever. successful people don’t wait to feel inspired. they get up and fucking do it ANYWAY. if you let your emotions control you, you are a SLAVE to your own weakness.

** FIX IT: when your brain says “i don’t feel like it”, respond with “i don’t give a fuck” and DO IT ANYWAY.

[inseobts]

Idk if u do request but can you do Scary reader x One piece men? Law, Shanks, Sabo, Ace, Croc, The monster trio & whoever else you want! Basically the reader is really scary but {{char}} finds their scariness attractive.

Attractive Scariness

a/n: sorry but at some point I got out of ideas lmao

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, law, ace, shanks, sabo and crocodile

words count: around 0.4k - 0.9k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

You’re used to fear.

The wide eyes, the shaky hands, the people stumbling over themselves to get away, etc. It’s always the same. Ever since you ate your Devil Fruit, people have called you a monster. Even when you’re not fighting, your presence alone makes people nervous.

So when you land on this island and step into a small village, you already expect the usual reaction.

And you get it.

The streets clear as soon as you walk in. The market stalls empty. Even the shopkeepers pretend not to see you.

You sigh.

“Again?” you mutter “I just want some food…”

You’re about to turn around when someone doesn’t run. A boy in a red vest and a straw hat stands right in front of you, grinning like he doesn’t even notice how scary you are.

No. He notices. He just doesn’t care.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, eyes shining “You’re super strong, huh?”

You blink “What?”

“I can tell!” He nods, completely sure of himself “Strong people have this feeling about them. And you feel really strong!”

You stare at him. That’s… new. No “stay away from me” or “please don’t kill me.” Just pure excitement.

Luffy tilts his head “What’s your power?”

You hesitate. Usually, this is the part where people scream. But he’s looking at you like a kid waiting for a magic trick.

You raise your hand. A shadow swirls around your fingers, shifting like smoke. The air around you grows heavy, dark, unnatural.

Luffy gasps.

“That’s so cool!”

“…Huh?”

“You can control shadows? Or darkness? Or... wait, is it nightmares?” He’s practically bouncing “Can you do giant shadow hands? Or make yourself super big? Or—”

You blink at him “You’re… not scared?”

Luffy grins wider “Why would I be? You’re awesome!”

This has never happened before. Ever. You don’t know what to do.

Then Luffy grabs your wrist “Hey, join my crew!”

Your brain short-circuits “What?”

“I’m Luffy! I’m gonna be King of the Pirates, and I need strong people on my crew. And you’re really strong!”

You open your mouth, then close it. You look at him, at his bright, careless smile, at the way he’s just standing there, holding onto your wrist like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’re just a person.

Not a monster.

“…You’re weird” you say.

Luffy laughs “People tell me that a lot.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Then, for the first time in forever, you smile.

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll join you.”

Luffy cheers, throwing his fists in the air “Yes! This is gonna be awesome!”

You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for. But for once, you don’t feel like a nightmare.

You just feel like you.

Years have passed since you met Luffy. Since he grabbed your wrist, called you strong, and changed your life without even trying.

Back then, you weren’t sure what you were getting into. Now, you know.

Being with Luffy means chaos. It means waking up to find him hanging upside down from the ship’s mast, laughing like it’s normal. It means fighting beside him, watching him charge straight at danger without fear—because he trusts you to have his back.

It means love.

A love that is loud and wild, but also simple. Easy. Because Luffy has never been afraid of you. Not then, not now.

Right now, you’re on an island, sitting in the shade while the crew runs around. The villagers are keeping their distance, just like always. Even after all these years, people still fear you.

But it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because across the field, Luffy is waving at you, smiling so wide it makes your chest feel warm. He doesn’t care that people avoid you. He doesn’t care that you’re “scary”, to him, you’re just you.

He runs over, plopping down next to you with a grin “Whatcha doin’?”

You raise an eyebrow “Sitting.”

Luffy gasps dramatically “No way. That’s crazy.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder. He just laughs, leaning against you without a care in the world.

For a while, you sit there together. The sun is warm, the breeze is nice, and Luffy is… Luffy. He hums a little song under his breath, playing with your fingers like he’s fascinated by them.

Then, he says “You know, you’re kinda scary.”

You pause “Oh?”

He nods “Yeah. Like, super scary. When you fight, people freak out. Even Zoro said you’re the last person he’d wanna fight seriously.”

You wait for the usual words to follow. Monster. Freak. Too much.

But instead, Luffy grins and squeezes your hand.

“I love it.”

Your heart stops for a second.

Luffy keeps talking, like he hasn’t just turned your entire world upside down “It’s awesome! You’re so strong, and you do that cool shadowy thing, and when you get serious, even the bad guys look like they’re gonna cry.” He laughs, eyes shining “It’s really cool.”

You don’t answer right away. Because what is there to say?

For so long, your power was a curse. Something that made you different. Something that made you alone.

But here, with Luffy, it’s just another part of you.

“…You’re an idiot” you mumble, looking away.

Luffy laughs “Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes “Unfortunately.”

He gasps “What?!”

You shove his face away, and he just laughs harder, wrapping his arms around you like an octopus. He clings to you, laughing and warm, and you sigh, pretending to be annoyed.

But the truth is, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Because you are strong. And scary. And Luffy loves it.

And that is more than enough.

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro knows strength when he sees it.

He can sense it in the way people move, in the way they breathe. Some fighters hesitate, some carry doubt, but you don’t.

From the moment he meets you, he can tell. You don’t just fight. You hunt. And for some reason, he can’t take his eyes off you.

It starts on an island known for its warriors. The crew stops to rest, but Zoro wants a challenge. A real fight. So when he hears rumors of a swordsfighter so deadly that even bounty hunters avoid them, he doesn’t hesitate.

But when he finds you, it’s not what he expects.

You’re not some old master or a towering brute. You’re just… you. Sitting under a tree, sharpening your blade like you have all the time in the world.

Zoro stops a few feet away, arms crossed “You’re the one they’re all scared of?”

You glance up. Your eyes are sharp, your aura heavy, and for a second, it’s like the temperature drops.

Zoro grins. Oh, yeah. This is gonna be good.

You sigh, standing up “You here to fight me too?”

He smirks “Yeah. Unless you’re scared.”

Something flickers in your gaze, something dark and dangerous. Then you smile, slow and sharp “You’ll regret that.”

And then you move.

It happens fast. One second, you’re standing still. The next, your own blade is inches from his neck. Zoro barely blocks in time, his instincts the only thing keeping his head attached.

His blood rushes.

You don’t fight like normal swordsfighters. Your movements are smooth, calculated, but there’s something more. Something predatory.

Zoro grins “Not bad.”

You tilt your head “Not bad?”

And then you attack for real.

The clash of steel echoes through the trees. Zoro meets each strike, but he can feel the difference in the way you fight. You don’t waste movement. You don’t test him. You go straight for the kill.

Most people would find that terrifying.

Zoro finds it hot as hell.

His smirk widens “You don’t hold back, huh?”

You don’t answer, but there’s something in your eyes... curiosity, maybe. Like you’re testing him.

Good. He likes a challenge.

The fight goes on, fast and brutal, but in the end, neither of you go all out. It’s just a taste, a promise of something more. When you finally lower your blade, Zoro does the same.

You study him for a moment, then nod “You’re not bad either.”

Zoro huffs a laugh “High praise.”

You sheath your sword and turn away “I’m going back to town. You coming or what?”

He watches you go, smirking to himself.

Yeah. He’s definitely interested.

Years Later – Zoro should probably be concerned that his partner is one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met.

But he’s not.

In fact, it just makes him like you more.

Right now, you’re standing on the deck of the Sunny, staring down a group of bounty hunters dumb enough to challenge you. You haven’t even drawn your sword yet, but the way you look at them, sharp, unreadable, deadly, makes them hesitate.

Zoro leans against the railing, watching with amusement. He already knows how this will go.

One of the bounty hunters shifts nervously “Y-you gonna fight or what?”

You tilt your head, smiling faintly “You first.”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Then they charge. Big mistake.

Zoro watches as you dodge effortlessly, your blade a blur. The fight lasts seconds. By the time you sheath your sword, your opponents are on the ground, groaning in pain.

Silence. Then, Luffy cheers from the mast “That was awesome!”

Zoro smirks. Damn right it was.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow “You just gonna watch?”

He shrugs with a smirk “I was enjoying watching... and didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You walk over, stopping in front of him “You’re getting lazy.”

He scoffs “Oh yeah?”

You lean in, voice low “Yeah. Maybe I should fight you next.”

Zoro feels a familiar rush of excitement. His hand twitches toward his swords “You sure you can keep up?”

You smirk “Try me.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Lost in you, in the fight, in the thrill of having someone who meets him blow for blow.

You’re terrifying. And beautiful. And stronger than hell.

And he wouldn’t have you any other way.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji has seen all kinds of people. Beautiful women, powerful warriors, even actual monsters. But he’s never met anyone like you.

You meet in a quiet, dimly lit tavern. The crew stops for a meal, and Sanji, always on the lookout for interesting faces, notices you immediately.

You sit in the darkest corner, barely touching your drink. Your posture is relaxed, but there’s something wrong about it, like you could strike at any moment. The air around you feels heavy.

People glance at you and quickly look away. A group of bounty hunters at a nearby table seem tense, whispering among themselves.

Sanji watches as one of them inches toward the door. His hands are shaking.

That’s when he realizes, they’re afraid of you. A lot.

Sanji takes a slow drag of his cigarette. Interesting.

“Hey cook, what are you doing there, standing like an idiot.” Zoro says while they all sit at a table.

He’s about to turn back to his crew and reply to that marimo when the bartender makes a mistake and accidentally spills a drink on your sleeve.

The entire tavern stops breathing.

The bartender goes pale “I—I’m so sorry—”

You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. Just slowly, carefully, you pick up a napkin and wipe your sleeve.

The silence stretches.

Sanji almost laughs at how scared everyone looks. What, do they think you’re gonna kill him for a drink spill?

The bartender swallows “Please, let me—”

“It’s fine” you say.

Your voice is quiet. Smooth. Too calm.

The bartender flinches anyway.

Sanji watches as you set the napkin down, push your drink away, and stand. You turn toward the door, and the crowd parts around you, everyone desperate to get out of your way.

Sanji, curious as hell, does the exact opposite.

He steps into your path, smiling “Leaving so soon?”

You stop and lift your gaze, as everyone there gasps.

Most people can’t meet Sanji’s eyes for long. His confidence, his sharpness, it makes them squirm. But you?

You stare right through him.

For the first time in a long time, Sanji feels his heart skip.

“…Who are you?” he asks.

You tilt your head slightly “Does it matter?”

That voice. Calm. Slow. Like a knife dragging against silk.

Sanji exhales smoke, smirking “I’d like to think so.”

You study him. And for some reason, he feels like he’s the one being hunted.

Then you smile, small, unreadable “See you around… cook.”

And just like that, you’re gone.

Sanji stands there, heart pounding as he thinks, oh, I’m in trouble.

Years Later – Sanji likes to think he doesn’t scare easy. He’s faced warlords, monsters, and the wrath of Nami’s fist.

But nothing terrifies him more than the way you just appear.

“Sanji.”

“GAH—!”

He jumps, nearly dropping the plate he’s holding. You’re suddenly right next to him, quiet as a shadow.

He clutches his chest “How do you do that?!”

You blink “Do what?”

“That!” He gestures at you wildly “I didn’t hear you at all! You just—just materialized!”

You tilt your head, amused “I walked in.”

“No, you haunted in.”

You hum in thought “Maybe you should pay more attention.”

Sanji groans, running a hand through his hair “You’re gonna kill me one day, I swear.”

“Wouldn’t be much fun,” you say, smirking slightly “I’d miss this.”

Sanji pauses. Then, with a slow, dramatic sigh, he pulls you into a hug.

You stiffen at first, but he’s patient. He knows you’re not used to softness.

When you relax, he kisses the top of your head “You’re cruel, y’know that?”

“Am I?”

“You make my heart stop every damn day.”

You smile against his chest “Good.”

── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:

Law prides himself on being composed. No matter the situation, he never loses control.

But then he meets you, and for the first time in a long time, he feels something close to unease.

It happens on a stormy night. The Heart Pirates dock at a quiet island, and Law sets off alone, drawn by rumors of a dangerous individual hiding in town. Some say you’re a ghost, others call you a demon.

He doesn’t believe in superstition. But he believes in threats.

So when he finds you in the ruins outside of town, standing perfectly still, eyes dark and unreadable, he watches you carefully.

“You’ve been causing trouble” he says, testing your reaction.

You don’t move. Don’t speak. The wind howls through the ruins, but you remain as still as a statue.

Most people shift under his gaze. But you? You don’t even blink.

Law narrows his eyes “Who are you?”

Finally, you tilt your head “You already know, don’t you?”

Your voice is calm. Steady. Wrong.

It reminds him of the quiet before a scalpel slices skin.

Law tightens his grip on Kikoku “What’s your ability?”

You step forward, and the ground cracks beneath your foot. A shadow flickers at the edge of his vision, stretching unnaturally.

“Does it matter?” you ask.

Law doesn’t flinch. But something deep in his chest tightens.

Because he knows that feeling. The quiet hum of danger.

And yet, instead of fear, he feels something else. Intrigue. He's actually really attracted and he can't deny it.

It takes Law a while to notice. To really notice.

Because you’re fearless in battle. You fight like a force of nature, silent and merciless, the kind of presence that makes enemies pray they don’t cross your path. You don’t just win fights, you end them.

And yet, when you’re with the crew, you’re… different.

Law catches it in small moments.

The way you ruffle Bepo’s fur when you think no one’s looking. The way you always make sure Penguin and Shachi get extra food after a long day. The way you quietly fix things around the ship before anyone else notices they’re broken.

And he feels it most with him. Like when you sit beside him in the submarine’s dimly lit halls, comfortable in silence, just existing next to him without expectation. Or when you lean against him after a rough mission, exhaustion making you a little softer, a little less guarded.

Or, most obviously, when you think he’s asleep.

He catches you once, fingers brushing against his hair, barely there, like you’re memorizing the shape of him.

He should say something. Call you out. But he doesn’t.

Because for some reason, the realization that the person who terrifies even seasoned killers, is so unbelievably gentle with him?

It does something to him.

Something dangerous.

Years Later – Being in a relationship with you comes with some complications.

Like right now.

“Sit still, damn it” Law mutters, pressing bandages against your side.

You sigh “It’s just a scratch.”

Law glares at you “It’s a stab wound.”

You shrug “Same thing.”

He clenches his jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him “I swear, you are the worst patient I’ve ever had.”

You smirk “And yet, I’m still your favorite.”

Law groans, but he doesn’t deny it.

Because despite everything, your terrifying strength, your eerie presence, your complete disregard for injuries, he can’t help but be drawn to you.

You are the only person who unsettles him. And somehow, you’ve also become the one person he trusts the most.

He huffs, finishing the bandages “Try not to die.”

You grin, leaning in “Worried about me, doctor?”

“Tch” He flicks your forehead “Shut up.”

And despite himself, he smiles.

The next time you get hurt, Law doesn’t even bother hiding his frustration.

“You’re reckless,” he mutters, tightening the bandage around your arm “One of these days, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

You watch him, amused “Would you miss me?”

He scowls “Shut up”

You smirk “You would.”

Law clicks his tongue, looking away. He hates how smug you sound. Hates it even more because you’re right.

Instead of answering, he sighs, finishing the bandage. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he presses a hand against your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re lucky I like you” he mutters.

For the first time, you freeze.

Then, slowly, you smile. And Law knows he’s in so much trouble.

── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:

On a nameless island, a pit stop for pirates and criminals alike, Ace hears the rumors first, stories about a lone warrior, someone so deadly that even bounty hunters won’t go near them.

He thinks it sounds like fun.

So when he walks into a bar and sees everyone stiffening at the mere sight of someone sitting in the corner, he knows he’s found you.

You sit alone, idly spinning a knife between your fingers. Your expression is calm, unreadable, but the tension in the room is thick.

Ace grins, making his way over “Mind if I sit?”

You don’t look up “Do what you want.”

He plops down across from you, resting his chin in his hand “Y’know, people are real scared of you.”

Silence.

Ace watches you carefully. You don’t move like a normal fighter. There’s something off about the way you breathe, the way your presence lingers like a shadow stretching too far.

It should probably freak him out.

Instead, it makes his blood rush.

“So,” he continues, smirking “What’s your deal? You a bounty hunter? Are you here to fight?”

You finally meet his eyes. Your gaze is sharp, calculating, like you’re dissecting him without lifting a finger.

"I was just curious who everyone was talking about, turns out it was you."

“…You’re not scared of me?”

Ace grins wider “Should I be?”

The knife in your hand stops spinning and or a split second, the air feels heavy.

Then, slowly, you smirk “Maybe? You tell me. That's what you came here for, isn't it?”

Ace laughs. Loud, bright, genuine.

And just like that, he decides that he actually finds you very attractive, and isn't letting you go so easily.

Years Later – Ace still remembers the first time he saw you fight.

He has always been the kind of guy who laughs in the face of danger.

He doesn’t hesitate to charge into battle, doesn’t flinch at the thought of death. He’s faced warlords, marines, even entire armies.

But when he saw you fighting? For the first time in his life, he felt like prey, even if you weren't fighting him.

How you moved like a phantom, striking fast, silent, merciless. How your enemies barely had time to scream before they hit the ground.

Everyone calls you terrifying. A monster. A nightmare in a human form.

And yet, right now, curled up against him, grumbling sleepily as he wraps his arms around you Ace can’t help but laugh.

You groan “What? You going crazy now?”

“You,” he teases, resting his chin on top of your head “You’re supposed to be the scariest person alive, but look at you.”

You swat at his chest “Shut up.”

Ace just grins, pulling you closer “Nah. I like reminding you.”

"You're always so annoying..." you say turning to not let him see you blush.

Because despite the way you fight, despite the way you terrify your enemies, Ace has seen what no one else has.

How you tuck into his blankets when you're alone. How you always make sure the crew eats before you do. How you fuss over him when he pretends his injuries don’t hurt.

You act all tough, all sharp edges and killing intent.

But Ace knows the truth.

You’re soft. At least, with him.

And that makes him fall for you even more.

He turn your head so that he can see you and with a smirk he says "Don't worry you're hot both ways, I don't mind your soft side at all"

Then he kiss your forehead and you try to hide again, making him laugh softly.

── .✦ Shanks:

Shanks has seen a lot in his life.

He’s fought warlords, crossed paths with the most dangerous men on the seas, and stared death in the face with a grin.

But when he meets you, he realizes he’s never met someone who could scare him and turn him on at the same time.

It happens in a crowded port town, where pirates and mercenaries walk side by side, tension thick in the air. Shanks and his crew are enjoying a round of drinks when Benn nudges him, nodding toward a shadowed corner of the bar.

“Oi, I found out that one’s got quite the reputation.”

Shanks follows his gaze and sees you.

You sit alone, posture relaxed but too still. There’s something about you... something in the way the people around you refuse to meet your eyes, in the way the bartender serves you with hands that tremble, scared to even do his own job.

The crew isn’t easily shaken, but even they seem wary.

Shanks just grins. Because if there’s one thing he can’t resist, it’s a challenge.

“Think I’ll go say hi.”

Benn sighs “Of course you will. Never doubted it.”

Shanks strolls over, drink in hand, and slides into the seat across from you without asking.

You don’t react. Just lift your gaze and meet his like you’re peering into his soul.

He whistles “You’ve got quite the stare.”

“You’ve got quite the nerve...” you reply smoothly.

Shanks chuckles “I get that a lot, actually.”

Silence stretches between you. He expects you to get annoyed, to tell him to leave, but surprisingly you don’t.

You just watch him. Measuring. Calculating. And damn if it doesn’t send a thrill up his spine.

Finally, you speak “You’re not scared of me.”

Shanks smirks, tipping his drink toward you “Should I be?”

Your eyes glint with something sharp. Dangerous. Interested.

“Maybe not, but who knows.”

Shanks leans forward, grinning “I like my odds.”

"I can see it..."

Years Later - “You’re doing it again” Benn mutters.

Shanks blinks “Doing what?”

Benn nods toward you. You’re across the deck, casually sharpening a blade, the crew giving you a very wide berth.

“You’re staring like a love-struck idiot” Benn sighs.

Shanks laughs “Can you blame me?”

Because despite years of being with you, despite knowing exactly how terrifying you can be, Shanks still finds himself completely captivated whenever you're fighting or not.

He’s seen you end fights with a single strike, watched entire battlefields fall silent at your presence. You are ruthless when necessary, the kind of person who doesn’t waste time with threats, just action.

And yet when you think no one’s watching, he sees the little things.

How you make sure the younger crew members eat first. How you adjust someone’s coat when they’re not paying attention. How, late at night, when exhaustion weighs heavy, you let yourself lean into him.

And Shanks?

He eats it up.

Because out of everyone in the world, you choose to be soft only with him.

Later that night, as you both sit on the deck watching the waves, Shanks stretches, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You roll your eyes but don’t push him away.

He grins “Y’know, for someone so scary, you’re kinda sweet.”

You turn, raising a brow “Wanna say that again?”

Shanks chuckles “Not if I value my life, and I do.”

You smirk, leaning against him just a little.

And that small, rare gesture is worth more to him than any treasure. He's totally in your hands, can you believe it? Because even he something looks at himself and shake his own head at the thought, but at the end who cares? He's with the most attractive person out there.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo isn’t the type to scare easily.

He has fought world nobles, infiltrated enemy territory, and stared death in the face more times than he can count. Fear isn’t something he entertains, it’s something he’s learned to push aside, to control.

But when he meets you?

For the first time in a long while, he actually hesitates.

It happens in a revolution-friendly town, the kind of place where people whisper about rebellion but fear retaliation too much to act. Sabo’s here on business, but what he doesn’t expect is to hear a name spoken in hushed, almost fearful tones.

A name that isn’t a government official or a bounty hunter, but yours.

“Who are they?” he asks a local, intrigued.

The man pales “Someone you don’t want to cross.”

Sabo just smirks “Is that so?”

He should probably be cautious. Should probably listen to the fear in the man’s voice.

But instead, he just wants to meet you more.

You’re exactly as the rumors say. You're cold, calculating and dangerous.

When Sabo finds you, you don’t attack him. You just watch him. Still. Silent. Your presence alone feels heavy, like the weight of an unseen blade resting against his throat, daring him to make a wrong move.

Most people would crack under it.

Sabo just grins “Heard a lot about you.”

You don’t react “Likewise.”

He hums, studying you. Most would be unnerved by your unwavering stare, the cold calculation in your eyes. But Sabo finds it fascinating. Finds you fascinating.

He hums, studying you “And? What’s your verdict?”

Your eyes narrow slightly, assessing him like he’s prey “Too early to tell. I don't judge based on rumors.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, a quiet tension settling between you. Sabo knows he should be cautious, he knows he’s facing someone whose strength is being feared even among revolutionaries.

But all he can think is — Damn. They’re kinda hot.

Years Later – It’s funny.

Everyone fears you. The Revolutionary Army sees you as a force of nature, one of their strongest, deadliest members. You’re efficient in battle, merciless when necessary. People whisper about you in the same breath as high-ranking officers, speaking of you like a phantom, something to be respected, but never approached.

But Sabo sees more than just the deadly aura that makes people tread lightly.

He sees the way your eyes gleam with amusement when a mission goes exactly as planned. He sees the way you tilt your head in interest, studying your enemies as if they’re puzzles to be solved before being discarded. He sees the way you move, every motion precise, effortless, a dance with death that you never lose.

And he loves it.

Loves the sharp edges, the lethal grace, the way you make his heart race, not with fear, but with something far more intoxicating.

And yet, he also sees the moments no one else does.

You, sitting beside him late at night, absentmindedly tracing circles against his palm.

You, making sure Koala doesn’t overwork herself, leaving her favorite snacks on her desk without a word.

You, rolling your eyes but still letting Sabo pull you into a hug after a long mission, even though your reputation could probably shatter just from being seen indulging him.

“You know,” he teases one night, tilting his head, “for someone so scary, you’re kind of a softie.”

You give him a flat look “Take that back.”

Sabo laughs, eyes gleaming with challenge “Nope. Never gonna happen.”

You grumble something under your breath but don’t pull away, and he counts that as a win.

Because out of everyone in the world, he knows you’re only ever like this with him.

And as much as he adores every part of you, it’s that razor-sharp danger in your eyes, that power in your every movement, that makes his blood sing.

It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating.

And damn, does he love you for it.

── .✦ Crocodile:

Crocodile has met aaaall kinds of people.

Cowards who grovel at his feet. Fools who think they can challenge him. Liars who smile while plotting his downfall.

But you? You don’t fit into any category.

Because when he first meets you, standing over the broken bodies of bounty hunters, face calm, eyes cold, he doesn’t see fear. He doesn’t see arrogance.

He sees power.

And for the first time in a long while, he’s interested.

When in Rainbase, long after the fall of Baroque Works, Crocodile has been rebuilding, regaining influence, cutting down anyone foolish enough to think he’s lost his edge.

And then you show up.

A ghost in the desert, they call you. A storm without warning. The kind of person who doesn’t make threats, just leaves bodies in their wake.

Crocodile hears the whispers. He almost ignores them.

Until one of his men ends up dead.

Then it's when he decides it’s time to meet you himself.

He finds you in a back alley, wiping blood from your blade.

You don’t look surprised to see him.

“You’ve been causing many problems” he says, exhaling smoke.

You tilt your head, unconcerned “That depends on who you ask.”

Crocodile’s lips curl into something amused. He’s used to people trembling in his presence. But you? You just stand there, watching him with the same detached intensity one might give a corpse.

It should irritate him.

Instead, it makes his blood thrill.

“I don’t like loose ends,” he says “So tell me, why shouldn’t I kill you?”

For the first time, you smile.

Not kind. Not warm.

Just sharp. Cold. Dangerous.

“You could try, I'm happy if you try.”

The air shifts.

Crocodile’s grip on his cigar tightens. His instincts, honed from years of surviving the worst of the worst, tell him that fighting you would not be easy.

And he likes that.

Years Later – Most people don’t look him in the eye.

Most people don’t speak without permission, don’t challenge his decisions, don’t dare to stand too close.

You do all of that.

And Crocodile lets you.

Because unlike the weaklings who grovel before him, you don’t need protection. You don’t need his power to survive.

You’re strong. Cold. Unshaken by blood or war.

And that makes you the only person truly worth his time.

One night, you’re both on the balcony of his hideout, looking down at the city below.

Crocodile exhales smoke, glancing at you “Most people would rather die than be in my company.”

You don’t even blink “Most people are weak.”

He chuckles, low and dark “That so?”

You finally meet his gaze, and in your eyes, he sees something sharp. Something dangerous.

Something that matches him.

He smirks.

Because finally, after years of dealing with fools, liars, and cowards, he’s found someone who is exactly his kind of monster.

[bitters-n-sweets]

scoliosis — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader You have scoliosis and it's been killing your back all day. Robby notices and decides to help you out with it.

warnings: suggestive content, minors GO AWAY | reader has scoliosis - not bad, but def painful after hours of standing, running etc. masterlist a/n: anyone else got scoliosis? mine is killing me today || side note, I've been basically writing one fic a day for a week, my brain is on FIRE and I might take a break soon lol

Crack-ety-crack

You groan as you stretch your back. You only have 3 hours left on your shift, and though it will feel like eternity, you can't wait to get back to your bed and reset.

You’re perched slightly sideways in your chair, trying to avoid pressure on your elevated right hip. It’s second nature by now—awkward but necessary. The real exhaustion comes from always being aware of how you're sitting, how you're standing, how you're moving—if you don't want it to gradually get worse.

You sigh again, and Robby notices.

"You okay?"

"Yep," You enunciate the P. "Just charting, boss."

Robby finds your behavior—and posture—odd but keeps walking. You’ve stretched five times today by his count, and that’s unusual. He knows he needs to ask you about it, and he will.

A while later, he sees you dead-hanging on the break room's door frame. Someone—he doesn't know who—had installed it for their "gains" and now you're using it. With your scrubs riding up as your spine relaxes, showing your bare waist.

It’s not indecent. Not really. But the sight punches the air out of his lungs harder than he expects. Heat rises to his ears as he steps behind you, instinctively blocking the view from anyone else.

He clears his throat.

"Sorry!" You say, "Was just relaxing my back."

Robby’s frown is back. "What’s going on with your back?"

You shrug, casual. "Scoliosis. It flares up sometimes, so I stretch."

"I’ve never seen you stretch this much during a shift."

"Yeah, it’s worse today. No idea why." You wave him off like it’s nothing. "It’ll go away once I sleep."

"You taking anything for it?"

"Pssh, no." You grin. "I’ll be fine. Rest usually does the trick."

Robby doesn’t look convinced. "You wanna leave early?"

"No," You shake your head. "Seriously Robby, I'm okay."

With a tap on his arm, you're on your merry way to see your patients. Robby sighs, because he knows how stubborn you can be, and he's gonna have to force you to rest.

"Alright, Mr. Evans, you're all patched up and ready to be discharged." You smile at the older man and stand up, a groan following suit as you put a hand on your back.

"Hon, you might wanna check that back." Mr. Evans comments, "You sound older than me!"

You're about to argue back when someone cuts your line, "Tell me about it. Come with me." Robby motions and leaves, meaning you need to follow him fast.

"Robby—"

"Nuh-uh, get in here." He opens the door to the on-call room and you go in with a grumble.

"I'm fine, Robby."

"No, you're not." He says, locking the door behind him. "You're in pain, so let me help you."

"What are you—" Robby moves you so your back is turned towards him, and he gently places his hands on your shoulder.

He's giving you a massage.

"Rob—"

"It's gonna help with your pain." Robby says. "Now lean forward a little."

You do as he says, leaning your body weight on your arms while he makes his way down your back, his hands now on your lower back, under your scrubs. It's too intimate. You feel your cheeks getting hot. And it doesn't help that he's now so close to you, you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Robby pauses for a second. "Is this okay?" he asks, voice lower now, closer to your ear.

You nod, quickly. "Yeah. Just… didn’t expect you to be this good at it."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Let’s just say I’ve had practice. Not on coworkers, though."

You glance at him over your shoulder with a smirk. "Am I special, Dr. Robinavitch?"

He grins, his hands stilling briefly on your waist. "Yeah. You are."

You let out a shaky breath as he works you, and you can practically feel the smirk on Robby's face.

Robby chuckles. "That feel good?"

You hum, trying not to enjoy it too much.

You try to focus on anything but Robby’s hands—his clinical, practiced, totally professional hands—that you just realized are huge, and are currently pressed on your hip. But your body betrays you.

A soft, breathy sound slips out of your throat. It’s not loud, but it’s definitely a moan.

"That good, huh?"

"Robby, I swear—"

Robby chuckles, deep and smug. "I mean, I was hoping to make you feel better, so… I’ll take it as a win."

You try to twist around to glare at him, but his hands hold you steady. "Don’t move. You’ll undo all my good work."

"Cocky."

"Confident," he corrects. "And apparently very effective."

You let out a groan—not from the massage this time. "You are insufferable."

"And yet," he murmurs, dipping his thumbs just below the curve of your waist, "you’re letting me keep going."

You bite your lip. He notices. Oh, he definitely notices.

"Tell me if it hurts," he says, quieter now, closer to your neck. "Or if you want me to stop."

You don’t say a word.

And he doesn’t stop.

"Good girl."

[anakinsdove]

𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader

summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant… only to find out that that perfect pussy he’s fucking belongs to his padawan.

c/w: gloryhole, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 2-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰: 1,838

He’s frustrated, Anakin won’t hide it anymore, he even yelled at you this morning, but as soon as he saw your pretty eyes pout at him he regretted it, it’s not even your fault, you’re learning, he’s your master, he’s supposed to teach you, it’s just… you jumping around and swinging your lightsaber does something to him… and he knows it shouldn’t.

It doesn’t matter anymore, how hard and fast he fucks his fleshlight, how hard he grinds against his mattress trying to chase an unsatisfactory high that leaves him as soon as it arrives, the painful dry orgasms he craves and hates, how painfully hard he grips his cock, nothing is enough, not anymore, he craves something else.

someone else

Someone’s pussy he knows he shouldn’t even think about, but he wonders… he wonders if someday he’ll be able to fuck it… how tight and wet you must feel around his cock… could you even take it? Could his sunshine of padawan handle him? He’ll be gentle, he’ll be rough, he’ll be anything you want him to be

Anakin sits on his bed late at night, however this is coruscant, theres always some sort of party going on somewhere, bars, loud noises and music, flashing lights, even nasty gloryholes, this planet is wild… the Jedi temple is luxurious and quiet on the surface…. But in the lower levels of coruscant there are… some interesting things happening, but he’s a Jedi, he knows it’s not right, he’s not sure what part isn’t right, but there’s something that doesn’t click.. maybe it’s the fact that paying for some services are just not what he wants, he wants your stupid creamy fucking pussy wrapped around his cock… what would you call him? Master? Anakin? And there’s the other fact that it’s avoid being recognized with his Jedi robes and his lightsaber… he must go undercover if he wants to get what he wants.

As anakin prepares himself for an adventure he takes a peek of the empty hallways at the Jedi temple, everyone asleep, everyone doesn’t have the same problem as him… it’s quiet and peaceful… he remembers that place, Obi wan and him tracked a criminal a few alleys away, the discrete yet inviting place hiding beneath the shadows… *is that?* *Don’t even say it Anakin….* Obi wan said with an unamused expression… of course it fucking is.

And now his feet has finally led him here….

The first thing her sees is lady.. well only her hands.. her face is covered by a piece of wood, completely anonymous… great, like this he’ll just have to imagine it’s you… he hope it does the trick, he hands her some credits without saying much… then he takes a deep breathe *Focus Anakin… focus* he tells himself… but the loud slapping noises and moans keep distracting him, he feels some sort of sense of guilt, he knows he’s better than this, but again he’s not… and the last thing he thinks before opening that stained curtain is… Obi wan should never know this… Y/N should never know this….

And finally he sees legs spread and in display… the wood creaks beneath his feet, the loud moans Turing of his brain, men acting like animals as they fuck a pussy, they’re in heat, just like him… he even sees some men on their knees eating out some women… interesting… who said chivalry doesn’t exist anymore?

He stops in front a pair of legs… all pretty and spread wide, inviting, a puffy clit that begs to be touched and rubbed nicely, fuck… those pretty legs look just like yours… just like yours… when you swirl around and he takes a small glance of that set of thighs under your skirt…

But he’s nervous… the consent has been already given right? He doesn’t have to talk to her or even know her name… it doesn’t fucking matter because she’s not you… he holds onto her thighs squeezing softly as the girl adjusts slightly feeling that she’s about to have some company, and just as his touch arrived is gone again as they leave goosebumps, he unbuttons his pants slower that he should’ve, he grasps his cock over his boxers and releases it giving himself a few strokes to get himself rock hard, fuck he’s about to get it… he needs it so so so so so fucking bad, he needs her, he…

He rubs his cock against her clit, slapping his tip against it gently as he hears a small gasp behind… *cute* he thinks to himself… fuck it he deserves this.

He pushes himself all the way in

Grabbing onto her ankles and starting with a relentless peace, the girl cries out, he should’ve given her some time to adjusts but he just couldn’t control himself… he pushes his hips forward trying to get his dick as deep as possible as he throws his head back… “fucking- he’ll…” he hopes he’s not fucking a virgin but this girl feels like one, she feels the way you would’ve feel wrapped around him, you’re so… you’re completely devoted to him, your life is Jedi training with your master anakin, missions with Anakin, free time with Anakin… you’re his, you’re his you’re his and only his… then why is he fucking this random girl? Why won’t you love him the way he loves you so he could be fucking you instead… this infuriates him as he pistons her harder… faster, his fingers digging into her skin leaving marks, he doesn’t know if it’s allowed or not.

He huffs and growls trying to control his anger… sweet moans filling his ears and emptying his thoughts… fuck she sounds just like you

He feels a deep connection to this girl he’s fucking, the force, something? Or it’s just her tight pussy? Gummy walls massaging him so fucking nice, his balls pounding agains her cute asshole, he chuckles as he watches her hips struggle against the hardwood, struggling to stay still, he licks his fingers and starts massaging her puffy clit, rubbing nice and slow… nice and slow, contrasting with his brutal pace

Y/n, Y/n, Y/n… One day he’s going to take you…. One fucking day…

A bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he ignores the noisy looks from people as they see the young hot man fucking the young hot woman like an animal, his hips move expertly against yours, he knows what he’s doing and it shows, and there’s not much to do than to trust roughly to fuck his frustration out, he loves this, the feeling but he wants more, a deeper connection, to look into your eyes as he fucks you, your nails digging in his back as he fucks you so hard it hurts…

He pushes herself deeper as the girl cries out because his tip is kissing her cervix a painful kiss.

This girl is wet… and she’s getting wetter every seconds, he feels the little splashes her pussy is making against his thighs… cute.. she’s squirting, anakin rubs her clit faster, you would arch your back right now wouldn’t you? If it were you obviously… he sees the girls hips raise a little and he knows she’s arching, her pretty feet shake over his shoulders as he keeps pounding her

His hips falteres as he nears his release, cock twitching and pulsating nice inside her velvety pussy

“Keep going!”

Shit, her voice even sounds like yours and he knows he’s imagining it because he’s whipped but this only enhances his experience… he’s breathing heavily, he’s panting as he tries to keeps some noises from escaping but they do.. and finally he cums… she squirts and it’s all fireworks and aftershocks, spasms and pure pleasure, his legs wobble, he put on quite a show….

He pants and pants until his breathing finally even, he feels at peace, what every orgasm should be like, not like those painful and dry ones he gives himself, he sees his cum dripping from the girls pussy, fuck, he didn’t even pull out… his head is pounding and he holds the girls thighs tighter… he feels… he feels a connection…. A big one… a deep one… a nice one… he buttons up his pants and gets on his knees, like an spell has been casted on him, he spread her legs even wider and dives in, he moans at the taste as he gives her a long lick, his lips instantly wrapping around her clit… he licks his cum out of her, he’s possessed, eyes rolling back into his head as he feels the girls fingers tangling on his hair…. Cute little whines can be heard, he’s obviously overstimulating her but… he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care.

He forced his eyes to open and he looks up and sees her fingers now resting over her stomach

And he sees the delicate bracelet around her wrist….

One that he happens to share with you

His eyes widen as he stands up immediately

“Y/n” he says loud enough for you to hear as his words get drowned into the loud sex noises…. The humid air and the smell of sex are prominent.

“Im sorry master” you say apologetic with that little voice of yours, one that indicates that you know you did something wrong but you’re not sorry for it

Now everything makes sense, he told you about this place a few months ago when Obi wan and him found it… the urge the intense craving and the way his legs lead him here, the connection that he felt to this person… why he was drawer to this pretty set of thighs.

It was all you, you lead him here, taking advantage of your connection through the force…

And he fucking loves it

He dives back in savoring your pussy, biting your button delicate and tongue fucking your hole as he tastes himself, his tongue exploring your folds… your fingers tangle around his locks as you cry out again, your legs close around his head and your back arches… perfect perfect, so fucking perfect.

He feels your back arch again and your moans get louder

You’re so close… so so close.

And he’s going to drag you to the edge

And he’s going to make you cum again

Your master Anakin Skywalker is devouring you like a mad man

And it’s okay

“Master master!” You cry out

An hour later you come out of the place as Anakin waits for you in a dark alley, he sees your with your coat and your wobbly legs… the walk back home is quiet, too quiet… no words exchanged, the aura is heavy yet not uncomfortable.. he leads you inside the Jedi temple and you walk to his quarters… a punishment, not in a sexual way, a lecture… something awaits… he pushes you inside and the door locks….

Your heels echoe in the darkness as his arms wrap around your torso… and you breathe in relief.

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

TAGS: @espinathena-17 @skywqlkergf

[sheeezu]

Emergency shift, tonight.

Another step by step guide, but this time it's mainly focused on how to shift when you'd do anything rather than stay in this wicked reality, perfect for permashifters or anyone frustrated with their current living situation in general.

OK, so I made this method in my WR, since I can't possibly "shift" here (I can switch realities on command by intending, so shifting isn't an activity for me anymore, I don't need to do methods), so last night i went to my WR, with as much skills I had before my first shift, I had an infinite time to figure out the perfect I need to get the hell out of here shifting method.

:)

Step 1, Morning: (divide this into four parts, morning, afternoon, evening and night)

Yes, you woke back in your CR, but don't think about that, get into the mindset that you're happy and you'll shift tonight.

First of all, drop all tasks from the CR, stop, don't do assignments or anything, don't focus on your CR.

Afterwards, what you need to do now is relax yourself, go ahead and pick something to do that you enjoy, so you can divert yourself from overthinking about shifting (personal recommendation, Sims 1 :) listens to subliminals in the background, don't worry about them if you think you have a strong enough mindset.

Don't completely abandon your CR body, don't just become a robot, eat, talk with your family (don't if you're not a fan of them). Avoid shifting forums as much as you can, mainly because there is always something irrational on there which could possibly discourage you.

Quick tldr for this step: relax, calm yourself down, listen to subliminals.

Step 2, Afternoon:

If you're developing a headache or feeling light-headedness due to the excessive subliminal listening then that's good, it means your brain is absorbing the affirmations.

Now, trick your human brain by listening to subliminal boosters, but only those ones which repeat playlists by million, billion, trillion, or zillion or something, it won't matter how effective the subliminal is, as long as you believe the title to be truth, then trust me, it'll work like promised.

After you're finished with your subliminal run, top it off with one of wrath's seal and you're good to go, you're now mentally prepared to shift, and you are in a perfect mindset. (wrath, the subliminal creator, in my opinion their subliminals, especially the boosters are the strongest; search wrath's second seal, in my opinion it's the strongest one in the series).

._.

Now you have eye strain or something, get up, go sit outside for a moment, stare at the trees, birds, skies, and start daydreaming-!

(Don't worry, I didn't tell you to touch grass, you can stay indoors, but, daydream :)

Daydream about your sweet sweet DR, if you're going to your WR, just imagine all the fun things you'll get to do there, or visualize your WR (or script; meaning revise how you made your WR to be like)

OK, back to the DR part, daydreaming can be done in many ways, perhaps you'd like to zone out and fall into deep contemplation about your actions in your DR, kind of like a case study (for me, bringing up old events from my teenage years or something, specific memories arise which didn't make sense; like me ignoring someone I like, and try to figure out why I did it, this all strengthens your bond with your DR)

Or you could simply rewind your memories in your DR, or what you've planned for the upcoming days, what you were doing before shifting, my recommendation would be to kind of add lots of "too much information" like, where did you place the honey after you had finished baking that cake? Didn't you had to put a new bar of soap in the bathroom? Didn't you broke the button of your favorite coat yesterday?

Or If you're good at visualising, you can simply live an entire day in your DR (perhaps not an entire day, just visualise your morning routine)

Another good one, if you can't visualise or don't feel like it, open Pinterest, scroll through your home feed, and try to relate the pins you see to your DR (I was just about to buy that shirt; I swear I saw that exact same house somewhere; that cat looks exactly like my sister's cat)

Feel like your DR self now? If not you're definitely getting excited and prepared by now.

Step 3, Evening:

Now it's time to attach yourself firmly to your DR self.

Consume media which remind you of your DR self, try your luck with Character ai, maybe it'll make sense for once (make your own bots, add a little description of your DR self within the character details, the bot will remember your details, ask ill share a template :) your spotify playlist + pinterest, remind yourself, your DR is very much real, if it's possible, close your eyes periodically for a few minutes, imagine making decisions like your DR self, and facing the consequences right after; or you can have a small conversation with your loved ones, keep it related to your DR.

Eventually, you'll be led to nightfall, it's time to go home.

Step 4, Night:

Listen to the subliminals you've listened to during the day, again, for an hour at least, if you're doubting yourself, or feeling like you won't be able to do it, try to distract yourself by a memory from your DR or something, or simply, already get into you're DR self's mindset, say "affirmations" like these:

"What the heck is going on in my mind? Why am I thinking about shifting, I've already got so much work to do." (That was an example, get creative :)

If you're ready to start shifting, lay down in a comfortable position (or sit up but lean back on comfy pillows if you're in fear of falling asleep) take a few deep breaths, if you like meditation then do so, but it's not at all necessary, just relax.

....

Now shift (just kidding, use my method which I've explained thoroughly in my first post, follow it and no doubt you'll shift, you're invincible.)

...

I am very self assured in my method btw. Also I'll try not to be lazy and answer the questions in my inbox dw.

I'll also upload my script, since for once I've finally stopped crying about permashifting in every post.

Good luck, you'll shift tonight, no doubt.

Remember to look at shrimp colors at least once in your waiting room.

[shysuccubusstuff]

homicipher! men making it fit pt. 2:

Characters: Mr. Hood + Mr. Gap

Content: Size Difference + non-human anatomy + Foreplay + Female anatomy ; Somnophilia + Cunnilungus + Dubcon/Noncon + Female Anatomy + Dacryphilia

Note: Did you all read the tweet of the creator of Homicipher? I'm so sad about it, but I completely understand their decision, sometimes people get way too aggresive with their demands to creators :( I hope they're able to rest and recover. Also, sorry if my last content isn't as great, university is sucking me dry.

Note 2: I finally ended with uni for some time, sadly my brain was left dry.... Sorry if it's a bit slow!!

Mr. Hood:

Mr. Hood, who doesn't seem particularly interested in you at first. After all, his main goal has always been keeping you safe from any harm that comes around, not becoming attached to you, that is of course, until he finds you in the middle of the room, your body now much smaller than before.

Mr. Hood, who is unable to look away when you ask him to help you. Your eyes get locked on him, fluttering your eyelashes so prettily as you beg him to help you. So he does, easily lifting you up from the ground and easily carrying you with one of his arms wrapped around you.

Mr. Hood, who starts to find himself watching you a bit too much. It starts with small glances, telling himself that he's just making sure you're safe and sound. But this small interactions soon turn into physical contact, ranging from unaware rubs to even hugging, an action that was quite new for him.

Mr Hood, who starts to constantly worry about you, feeling anxious the moment he lets you out of his sight, his grip firmly wrapped around you even as he lets you speak with some of the other (more) non-violent ghosts around there.

Mr. Hood, who decides to leave you with them, slightly scared uncomfortable with those strange feelings that have been bubbling inside himself.

Mr. Hood, who goes back to you soon after leaving you, his heart thumping in his chest as the fear of you getting in danger rised.

Mr. Hood, who finds you injured under the boulders, rushing towards you and lifting the boulders with ease. Despite you are unable to see his face, you can clearly tell that he is worried to death, swiftly taking you in his arms and taking you to where the two of you said goodbye to each other. In contrast with last time, Mr. Hood stays there, sitting close to you and taking your hand until you are finally healed. Not like it mattered to him, as he started to carry you around unless it was dangerous.

Mr. Hood, who starts to fall for your little tricks, letting you run your hands all over his clothed body, even allowing you to snuggle against his chest while both of you laid down to rest a bit. These small portrayals of affection quickly leveled up, with him and you sleeping in the same bed and even letting you lay on top of him as he caressed your hair with his big hands.

Mr. Hood, who soon realises your intentions. It was quite obvious since the start, but his suspicions were confirmed when he noticed how you moved your butt against his groin while you pretended to be asleep. Of course, this little teasing game didn't stop, even as he tried the most subtle ways of avoiding your little tactics. If that was what you truly wanted, he would give it to you.

Finally, one night Mr. Hood stopped you, his hands gripping your waist as he stopped your indecent movements. "Can't sleep?" Despite his lack of face, you were perfectly able to tell that he was looking at you with a slightly concerned face.

"Can't." Suddenly, you were on top of him, his hands still secured on your hips, his gaze completely focused on you.

"I want help you." You looked at him with a mixture of confussion and excitement, which was easily caught on by Mr. Hood, his hands now going up tummy, the cold sending chills through your whole body, just as you had done a few times before.

"You... want me?" He nodded, his hands still making their way towards your upper body.

"Want you, you like me?" Mr. Hood stopped for a second, his hands massaging your soft body as he waited patiently for your consent.

"Like you, I like you." You slowly moved your head up and down, making sure to not break the visual contact with him.

"Good, me help you." Without saying much else, Mr. Hood lifted you up from the bed, allowing you to get on top of his lap, his hands steading on your hips as he started to grind himself against your bare pussy, his lips parting as soft moans left his mouth. At the same time, one of his hands pulled you closer to him, allowing his long tongue to enter your mouth, intertwining it with your own. Slowly warming you up as he kept grinding his clothed length against you.

He kept doing this until your slick had left a small stain on his robe, finally deciding to take your clothes off, helping you to get rid of your stained raincoat. Soon, his hands were massaging your breasts, his fingertips sometimes squeezing and pinching your nipples as he kept kissing your needy mouth. Despite the mood within the small room was just right, Mr. Hood kept on moving your hands away from his lower half each time you tried, bothered you finally spoke up.

"I need you now..." You looked at Mr. Hood with needy eyes, to what he simply responded with what sounded like a deep purr.

"Careful." Cautiously, Mr. Hood moved you down for a second, allowing his length to finally escape from his robe. The sight almost made you whine from just imagining it. What you found was similar to a human cock, well, ignoring the slime-like texture, together with the unnatural girth and length it had. You gulped, trying your best to prepare yourself for what was about to happen.

Mr. Hood looked at you, his tone letting you know he was quite concerned about your well-being. "Not need to, I help you." But before he was able to hide his length under his clothing, you had already started to enter his tip, the strech almost making you cry as you kept feeling yourself be split in half. "Wait!..." You ignored Mr. Hood warnings, slowly letting your weight down as you got accustomed to his whole width, a deep sight leaving your lips as you kept yourself steady on his lap. "Too dangerous, let me--." Once again, you refused to listen to Mr. Hood's suggestions, starting to move your hips up and down his length, slowly creating a rhythm that made your eyes roll each time his tip hit against your poor cervix.

"So good...! Your dick is so so good~... Give me more, please~...!" Despite his hesitance, Mr. Hood's hand held onto your waist, allowing your legs to give up as he began to set a ruthless pace. "Wait!... Too big! Give me a---" Just as you had done before, Mr. Hood stopped you before you could finish your sentence, lewd moans leaving your mouth as Mr. Hood started to hit that sweet place in deep and steady thrusts. As you tried to get him to slow down, you used your hands, pushing against his lap as you tried to get him to slow down a bit.

Sadly, this was no use, only causing Mr. Hood's to ram against your poor cunt, your eyes rolling back as he kept his steady pace, forcing you to takea each of his movements. Soon, your whole body went limp, your whole body shaking as he made you cum all over him over and over again.

By the time Mr. Hood's length started to quiver, you were already long far gone, your hands clenched around his clothes as you started to feel his thick liquid filling you up.

As you came down from your high, you were able to feel soft kisses against your skin, his calloused hands running up and down your back as he let you take a deep breath. "Will help you next, tell me."

Mr. Gap:

You and Mr. Gap had already been prowling together for quite some time, with him always trying to get your guard down so he could get you to ask him for help even for the smallest matters. You found this quite annoying at first, I mean, who would give their heart for things like turning the switch on...

But soon, your relationship began to change. Mr. Gap started to ask for less dangerous things in exchange, it began with a whole arm or leg, but then it moved to things like, one eyelash. Then, the things he asked in exchange moved into a more... physical territory. Mr. Gap started to ask for pets, as he had seen you giving them to Mr. Crawling. Then, he took one step further, asking for a kiss on the cheek or the forehead. Soon enough, his advances became much bolder, now asking you to let him sleep with you the whole night. To be honest, he had already appeared once in there, but this time, you could clearly notice he was asking for something... else. His eyes glistening with an amused expression, waiting eagerly for you to allow him.

In the end, you nodded, allowing him from then on to sleep with you, even if this meant that he would sometimes start to touch your skin under the sheets, his cold hands sending shivers through your whole body as you tried to calm yourself. Little did you know what Mr. Gap was about to do as time went on...

You were about to fall asleep, attempting to ignore Mr. Gap's hands as best as possible as he kept running his hands around your legs, sometimes even allowing his hands to move abit too close to your lower half. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to calm down as you kept forcing yourself to ignore his touch.

"Asleep?" Mr. Gap's voice whispered, his voice making you shiver as his fingertips started to rub against your clothed cunt. Seeing that you didn't answer, he decided to take it even further, carefully removing your underwear and throwing it out of the bed. Despite that, you kept your eyes shut and your lips closed by digging your own nails into your hand. Before you were able to stop him, Mr. Gap's mouth was already against your pussy, leaving soft kisses all over your inner thighs. Soon, his tongue started to lick all over your cunt, entering your cunt as his hands started to massage your lower stomach. "Warm... like." He smiled at you, noticing how you were actually awake, maybe even noticing that you had been awake since the beginning. "Want it." Just as you were about to reply to him, his warm mouth was already against your lower half, his breath hitting against your entrance as he started to suck on your clit.

"Wait! Just--" Mr' Gap ignored your complaints, one of his hands starting to caress your entrance, almost as if he was enjoying the yearning in your eyes. Without much delay, he introduced one of his fingers, his tongue still playing with your clit, using the tip of his tongue to leave soft touches on it, sometimes making you lose your breath as he suddenly sucked on it without a warning.

This little game kept going for over fifteen minutes, with you cumming on his mouth as his left hand kept you still on the bed, his tongue still torturing your sorry cunt, ignoring the tears that were rolling down your face because of the overstimulation. By then, his hand was already completely soaked in a mixture between your slick and his saliva, the lewd wet sound filling the empty room. Mr. Gap's left hand was still massaging your lower stomach, making each orgasm even more intense as he forced your sore body to endure all of his little games. Sometimes, he changed to a painfully slow rhythm, making your grasp his hair as you tried to get him to move faster. Then, he suddenly changed, his fingers and tongue moving at a rapid pace, not stopping even as you grabbed his hair and pulled, much less when you squeezed his face with your thigs as an attempt to slow him down.

Sudenly, Mr. Gap finally stopped, not like you had enough time to take a deep breath, as his face was soon against yours. As the rest of his upper body was revealed you soon felt something hard poking against your overstimulated clit. Mr. Gap's hands caressed your face, his face showing a twisted smile of pleasure as he saw the tears that had been falling from your eyes as a result of his sweet torture. "Cute."

[strawbewiecake]

📌 what helps (no context necessary) 📌

Everyone asks “how do you stay on track” — here’s how. Take what fits. Ignore the rest.

1. Delay the decision.

Set a 30-minute timer. If it still matters after, fine. But most things don’t survive the wait.

2. Log everything.

You forget less when it’s in writing. Numbers > feelings.

3. Use small utensils.

Takes longer. Feels like more. Slows everything down.

4. Ice water. Always.

Cold = alert. Also makes the other thoughts quieter.

5. Mint > sugar.

If you want something sweet, go sharp instead. Gum, tea, oil, whatever.

6. Clean first.

Before anything else, tidy. It helps recalibrate.

7. Stand when you can.

Passive movement still counts. Don’t sit unless you’re earning it.

8. Plan out loud.

Even if no one’s there, narrate the plan. Hearing it makes it real.

9. Brush your teeth.

Twice minimum. It resets the mouth. You’ll want less.

10. Delay “first intake” as long as possible.

Once it starts, it gets harder to stop.

11. Track progress obsessively.

Whatever method works. Spreadsheets, apps, photos, stickers, scratches on the wall. Doesn’t matter.

12. Black coffee is a tool.

Bitter, hot, zero. Enough said.

13. Cut things small.

Visually it tricks the brain. Looks like more. Feels like less commitment.

14. Repetition = safety.

Same meals. Same outfits. Same schedule. Predictability keeps you in control.

15. Stay cold.

Blankets are earned. Heat is a reward.

16. Pick a uniform.

Avoid mirrors, avoid choices. Choose once, then stop choosing.

17. Never eat directly from packaging.

It’s chaos. Use a plate. Use a scale. Use a rule.

18. Save pictures.

Visual reminders of why. Make it a folder. Scroll through it when your brain gets loud.

19. Say no out loud.

Even if it’s just to the fridge. Out-loud “no” works better than silent guilt.

20. Delay. Again. Always delay.

Craving = momentary. Control = permanent.

21. Use liquids to kill time.

Tea. Water. Sparkling stuff. Sip constantly.

22. Keep your hands busy.

Paint nails. Fold clothes. Shred receipts. Idle hands spiral fast.

23. Don’t trust your mood.

Mood lies. Mood passes. Stick to the system.

24. Sleep earlier to avoid noise.

Late night = weak decisions. Just go to sleep. You don’t need that hour.

25. Check the stats.

Weigh in. Take notes. Keep score. It keeps you aware.

26. Routines over feelings.

How you feel doesn’t change what needs to be done.

27. Reward with non-food.

Playlist, candle, bath, nap, photo. But never what you actually want.

28. Watch people you want to be like.

Consume their content. Learn their habits. Copy until it sticks.

29. Replace "I'm hungry" with "I'm bored."

One’s real. One isn’t. You know which one wins.

30. Don’t keep “options.”

If it’s not in your space, it can’t tempt you.

31. No “just a bite.”

You know how that ends. Don’t start it.

32. Pause. Then pause again.

The second pause is where your power is.

📁 Reblog to keep this where you can find it.

💌 DM open if you want to swap more tips quietly.

[moviestarmartini]

alta suciedad. — franco colapinto x f!reader

summary: while interviewing franco, you misunderstood what he meant with 'talented with his tongue'. lucky for you, he's more than willing to actually show you his skills.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: interviewer!reader, hispanic!reader, porn with an ounce of plot, set during media day of the austin gp, casual sex, oral sex (fem recieving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull out and pray, mean dom!franco, dumbification, degradation, a teeny amount of praise, aftercare, spanglish/sentences in spanish.

A/N: based on this request and took some inspo from this other anon, i'm literally giggling typing this in order to publish it. no specific song for today even though there's a few references even in the title. hope y'all are hungry!!

“I’m talented with my tongue.” 

You didn’t have that much experience when it came to interviewing professionally— you’d been a kid reporter at the same sport you strived to get there, and in the course of getting there, you’ve seen a thousand and one million things that impressed you. 

But this? 

Your mouth hung open, giving him a few rapid blinks while your brain processed the information. 

“You wanna see?” Franco Colapinto insisted, not reading your expression well enough, or ignoring it at the very least. 

“¿Aquí?” You blinked, unable to process the event in the main language of the paddock. You were one of the youngest reporters there, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. That had just completely caught you off guard. 

Franco cocked a brow before showing you and the camera how he could manipulate said organ so the sides touched and a tiny hole formed in the middle. 

Yet again he surprised you, or more you surprised yourself with how further down the gutter your mind was at. 

“Oh, good!” You snapped out of it, but he had seemingly finally connected the dots, or so the smirk in his face made it seem like it. 

“Well, thank you for having us, Franco. Good luck during the weekend.” Your  composure was back not even two seconds later, the cameraman soon signaled the transmission was off. A relieved sigh left your lips while your shoulders relaxed, giving your coworker the mic and transmitter to take to the media tent just a few steps away. 

You were just turning back to head there as well, ready to get immersed in writing a report before your name was called. Your heels turned you around by force of habit, not realizing the tone in the driver’s voice might mean trouble. 

“Yes?” You asked politely, hands clasped in front of you to avoid any chance of fidgeting. Your little crush was idiotic, or so you considered it from the day you first interviewed him. 

“¿Qué vas a hacer hoy?” He took a step closer in order to ask the question, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans. 

“¿Perdón?” You realized that sounded rude, your voice repeating a better answer soon after. “Seguir trabajando, why?” A frown settled between your brows, head leaning slightly to the right. Where was this going exactly? The confusion only settled further when you noticed his eyes darting around before leaning in. 

“Si querés que de verdad te enseñe que puedo hacer con mi lengua, entra al motorhome después de las siete, te dejo la puerta de atrás abierta. Mi cuarto está a la izquierda.” And with that, he pulled away, turned around and left. 

You did the same, convinced the idea was just a figment of your imagination, the drought you’ve been suffering for more than a year to get there tricking every nerve in your brain to believe those words. It was settling into the late afternoon, and you worked at a pace Sonic would envy. His words bounced around your gray matter, and after much debating you stayed after the six pm mark, when everyone else left. You peered your head out of your station noticing how the place was almost empty. It was Thursday after all, the whole crews were not active until the following day. 

The curiosity got the best of you, and you packed your bag to head there, skittish at the sight of anyone who crossed your way— or at least the few that did. 

No one was used to walking behind the team buildings, never mind during what’s considered after hours. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you noticed the door ajar, and no one came in nor out to justify the fact. 

“Thought you wouldn’t come.” Franco’s voice snapped you out of the hesitation, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I thought I was supposed to come in by myself.” You got the bravery to counter with the way your heart sped up with adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“You’re late.” Franco’s response was quick, witty. His tone made you raise your brow; it was… different. Commanding, you could pinpoint. 

“I shouldn’t come out and get you, vení.” Before you could even process it, he took your arm and dragged you inside, going straight down the hallway and taking a left before the door closed shut— no witnesses visible to what he had just done. 

“You can sit wherever you like.” He invited, his voice was back to its playful tone. You nodded, putting your bag down by the door and sitting on the small couch near a corner. 

“Sos muy bonita, ¿sabías?” He complimented while finishing to fix up his room, side eyeing you. 

“Why am I here? What do you want?” You asked bluntly, not accepting the compliment. 

“Look, if you wanted me to write positively about you on the piece, you already got it.” You carefully watched him take a seat next to you, and you both turned to face each other.

“Tonta también, ¿no?” It was as if you were ignoring each other’s words, and before you could get offended, his fingertips brushed your hair out of the way of your face. Any smart quip you could’ve thrown at him flew out the window, your lips parting. 

“That’s just how you looked at me earlier. When you thought I was referring to something dirty. Tontita.” He inched closer. You couldn’t help but do the same, a bit eagerly, eliciting a laugh out of his lips. 

“Do you like me?” It was his turn to be blunt. Without hesitation you nodded, squeezing your lips into a thin line after realizing that might’ve been a mistake. An embarrassing one at that. 

“No pasa nada. Vos también me gustás preciosa…” His voice trailed with his head leaning closer, lips brushing against the prickled skin of your neck. “…inteligente…” A kiss pressed to the area. “…y al parecer, puta.” 

The gasp disappeared between the blurred lines of your lips and his crashing, the term disappearing in your mind while you kissed him. Your hands gripped the material of his team shirt while his own lowered down your back, pulling you closer, almost on top of his lap. 

“¿Hacés esto mucho? Sneak into other drivers’ rooms?” He asked while leaning back down to kiss your neck with a twinge of more harshness, ragged breath leaving your lips while you shook your head ‘no’ 

“¿Sos muda? Habla.” There was that commanding tone again, his fingers delving into the skin of your thighs to squeeze what he wanted out of you. 

“No. Nunca.” You replied with a gulp, leaning your head back to recieve more kisses as a reward for your answer. 

“So I’m the lucky winner?” It sounded something between a compliment and a joke, and you decided to humor him a little with a smile. 

“One could say so.” You replied, thinking you’ve gotten the gist of it. 

“I’m surprised. With that skirt…” He shook his head after tutting, making you figure out the context of his words. You were into it enough to not get offended by the allegation, normally would have defended yourself with the fact it was terribly hot outside. You didn’t like dressing similar to the rest of the reporters in the paddock, and maybe this once it played both in your favor and against it… sort of. 

His lips captured yours again, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. You weren’t dumb— even if he liked to say so— parting your lips without complaint, feeling the way your tongues tangled together while he pushed you down until your back hit the fabric of the furniture. 

The open mouth kisses started redirecting their path down your jaw, following a trail down the length of your neck. He took the opportunity to breathe your scent. 

“Olés tan rico,” He groaned, the growing erection in his jeans pressing against your upper thigh. 

“I can already imagine how that pretty pussy tastes. Can’t wait to make you cum just using my tongue.”  The idea made you shudder, his hands raising your top to move it out of the way while he kept kissing back. You took the initiative to just pull it over your head and throw it somewhere else. 

“You’re so good, stripping for me without having to ask.” Franco cooed, his pace slowing down when his mouth reached down your belly button, making him look at him expectantly. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to just tug on your denim skirt up to completely move it out of the way without removing the piece, his knuckles brushing the spot marked with your aroused slickness, your hips involuntarily twitching to lean closer into his touch. 

“Si solo te he besado y ya estás re mojadita,” Another coo left his mouth, this one with a certain amount of jest in it. You felt deeply embarrassed in a way your face displayed it, only making his smile grow in size. 

Franco almost ripped off the underwear and chucked it somewhere in the room. No moment to adapt was left at your disposition, his tongue pressing flat against your wet core. The noise of a moan coming from you clashed with the hum of satisfaction he felt from the sheer taste of you. 

“So sweet,” Franco praised, and those were the last words to come out of his mouth before he started to back up his words from earlier. 

The whole situation felt like a dream. Not only the fact he made an advance upon noticing how far down the gutter your mind was, but the fact you even came there in the first place. Not that you regretted it, with how he flicked that sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue.  

You didn’t believe his promise earlier— thinking it was just silly dirty talking— but he was proving you wrong. Your moans were the perfect evidence, fingers tangling in his curls while his left hand rose up to grope your exposed breast. 

The shuffling noise outside the room made him perk up and away from your dripping cunt, chin glistening with your wetness. He pulled his index fingers to his lips to signal you to be quiet before continuing, but his attempt fell futile. You were reaching your release quick, his magic working a little too well. There was no warning; his other hand left the grip on your thigh to cover your mouth, holding it down a bit too roughly to send a message. 

Your muffled moans and cries only set him off, teasing your entrance before licking the trail up to your clitoris, suckling on it. He fluttered his eyes open, and the sight was nothing but completely arousing. Your eyes were rolled back, column arching up while his expert affections tipped you over the edge. Your thighs simultaneously shivered and lightly squeezed his head, and it was enough for Franco to decide he was in heaven. 

Once the overwhelming sensation started to wear off, your legs relaxed, allowing him to pull away. With a clearer mind you noticed how his chin and lips glistened before removing the substance with the back of his hand, as if it was just sauce from an actual meal. 

“¿Por qué me mirás así?” Franco wondered at your blissful expression. “¿Ya te enamoraste, putita?” There was no verbal answer; he was eager to link his lips with yours again in yet another sloppy makeout session. This once, however, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh. 

Taking initiative, your hand lowered down his torso to fumble the button of his pants a little before being able to undo it. A groan followed by teeth tugging at your bottom lip was the reaction you gained from jerking him off slowly under his underwear. That gave you enough confidence to swipe your thumb across the leaking tip in order to tease him. 

The sound of a moan from him echoed inside your mouth, a hum from satisfaction leaving consequently. However, your moment of dominance soon faded with his hand slapping yours away before spreading your legs even further— to the point it pulled on the muscles of your inner thigh just a little, the burning sensation mushing with pleasure— the skirt hiking up to rest on your torso. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He leaned in to whisper, feeling him nudge your entrance in order to tease you. The sensation that followed was something similar to your brain shutting down, managing to only nod. The smell of his cologne, his body pressing down on you. 

Franco, Franco, Franco, Fran— 

“¿Qué pasa tontita? Say it.” He egged you on, threatening to push himself inside, but not making it far enough to bring you satisfaction. 

“Yes, por favor.” You begged, getting a chaste kiss for a reward followed by the intrusion spreading your warm walls. You saw the way Franco tried to keep it together, the façade crumbling under a groan. You felt too good. His mind could only pinpoint your body under his, the warmth hugging his stiff dick and electrifying every nerve of his being. 

His mind couldn’t stop chanting your name. 

“Move,” You asked nicely, though it came out in a huff. He found himself too enthralled to complain at your tone, instead complying. 

The lower tone of his moans harmonized with the high pitched of yours, the sound of skin frantically coming in contact filling up the room enough for both of you two to forget what could possibly be going on outside. At least it had been a while since you last heard people outside doing whatever. 

“Dios, que apretadita estás,” Franco groaned out loud, his lips brushing against yours. You took the leap, closing the distance between the two of you. But you couldn’t get much out of it due to your own fault, moans interrupting the session. 

“No, besáme.” You whined when he pulled away slightly, and a smirk rose at his lips before he locked them with yours, pace increasing. You struggled to engage further, the moans and groans interrupting. 

“No, besáme.” Franco replicated your plea from earlier before laughing between heavy breaths. 

You couldn’t do anything but pucker your bottom lip out, not finding the words to complain about how mean he was being. Besides, all coherent thoughts disappeared the moment you felt your second orgasm peeking from behind you at a rapid rate. Your nails dug into the uncovered skin of his forearms, just below where the team shirt started covering his biceps. 

“¿Por qué me apretás tanto?” He hissed before falling upon the realization, deciding to keep having his fun with you and slowing down. 

“Fuck— ¡¿qué te pasa?!” You groaned, feeling the release reeling down into a sensation of being completely stuck midway. 

“Dale, decime lo que quieres. De forma bonita, como vos.” He kept his thrusts slow and deep, trying to contain his own release from the pulsating walls squeezing the life out of his cock. 

“I wanna cum,” You felt the embarrassment of having to request that out loud settle in your stomach, soon washed over by the sensation the quickening of his hips gave your core. 

“Si, si. Franco, that’s it,” You cried out, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while your thighs shivered once more. 

Your cunt was so warm and tight he almost didn’t pull out. Almost. After a groan left the back of his throat, droplets of white painted your lower abdomen, thankfully not staining your skirt. 

He kept himself supported by his forearms, allowing him to lean in and kiss your forehead and cheeks. 

There wasn’t much to be said, you knew that, and so did he. Carefully, he fixed his underwear and pants before getting up, muttering something under his breath in his attempt to find the wet wipes he knew he had… somewhere in the organized clutter of his room. 

“Dejá que te limpio,” His voice was tender, the wet tissue dragging across your skin to remove the seminal liquid, before another carefully cleaned the sweat off your forehead and neck. 

You thanked him with a nod, unable to hold eye contact for long. Once you felt comfortable you sat up, fixing your clothes and hair before getting up on your legs, still a bit wobbly. You took it upon yourself to clean the damp spot on the couch where you laid, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal. 

Quickly, you slipped your underwear on, unaware of the pair of eyes following your every move with a cold calculation. 

“¿Qué vas a hacer hoy?” The question he asked to what seemed to be ages ago popped up again, making you turn, just as confused as you were earlier. 

“Dormir… cenar. Ya veremos, dijo el ciego.” At your cheeky response his laughter echoed through the room, arms folded over his torso. 

“¿Habrá un espacio para mí en esa cena o nos vemos mañana a la misma hora?” He took a step closer. Then another. And another. Until he stood in front of you, leaning down enough to whisper in your ear. 

“No importa si no me querés ver hoy en la noche todo caballeroso, mañana procura llegar a tiempo y controlar esa boquita.” Yet again, his voice electrified goosebumps all over your skin. 

What did you just get yourself into?

[xjulixred45x]

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst