#tried doing a background sorta

[trypo-p]

My boyfriend got me into TF2 brainrot,, and they're just Scout and I'm pretty much Sniper and he likes Sniperscout so uhhh,, hey guys did you know I love my boyfriend--

[aeris-blue]

Charon brain rot has been strong lately

[acaciapines]

on today's episode of 'acaica's background thoughts for the dess raises kris au': okay but lets be serious do dess and chara actually stay together in the end--

[emily-mooon]

Hi hello here’s Scott’s dad beside the best friend of every stereotypical suburban father.

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

can we get butchfemme sevika/reader hcs please :3

GAWD yes. Lord, I've been waiting for this day lessgo

ButchFemme Sevika/Reader Headcanons

⚢ In typical butch fashion, her love language is acts of service

⚢ Loves to be fawned over ! Like “Omfg babe you’re sooo strong helping me put together furniture” and trust she is melting even though her face is expressionless and immoveable

⚢ She likes when you graze your long nails over her skin for back scratches and its all nice and light and tingly

⚢ She’s not much of a prettyboy (prettybutch…?) so she doesn’t really have a skincare routine but you have an extensive regimen so she memorizes all ur million little bougie products and gets you an extra to keep at ur place so you don’t have to eff up your skincare routine in favor of spontaneous sleepovers

⚢ Yeah she’s not too particular about her grooming in general. She lets you cut her hair even if you’re not super experienced with clippers. She still hypes you up even if you nick her ear when doing up her side shave/undercut.

“Oops! Sorry babe I think I got your ear…”

“Didn’t even feel it. You’re doing great baby keep going.”

⚢ On that note, pet names: For Sevika, its baby alll dayyyyyy ! She calls you baby, my girl, my pretty girl, my woman, etc. And as for what you call her, she always loves a “omg babe” moment. And “settle down there, cowboy” but in like a jesting sorta way. Also: “my butch.”

⚢ Stone top/pillow princess anybody?

⚢ Also: she’s ur cash cow. She loves buying you expensive shit and showing you off and showing off the expensive shit. You breathed in the direction of a particularly nice perfume? Surprise! It’s in your bathroom the following day. Like. It’s a theme. Especially in ur pre-relationship courting era. “Baby anything you want I get for you. Say the word I’ll buy for you the moon, the stars, et cetera, no one can provide for you like I can” blah blah blah

⚢ But you can’t be interrupting her card games tho. She’s like a teenage boy on the xbox with those things. Probs something to be worried about tbh.

⚢ And I’ve written this into a fanfic already, but that bitch wears boyshorts. I was thinking boxers for a while but I think that would be too much bulk over them skinny little plants she wears. I am a Sevika boyshorts TRUTHER

⚢ And she works out. Matter of fact, forget the prettybutch comment because Sevika WORKS OUTTT and I think she has resistance bands. Like she goes to an actual gym but around the house you’ll find her repping with those damn resistance bands to relieve stress or just cause she sees them and remembers.

⚢ And she works out to like. Classical music. Cause she’s a classy mothafuckaaa just absolutely getting ripped and her face is in a scary ass sneer but there's like ode to joy in the background

⚢ You pack her lunch. She gets flamed at work cause her paper bag is covered in lil hearts and stickers and kissy lipstick marks and its filled with sugary baked goods like pink sparkly cupcakes and fruity pastries cause u can’t cook. But by gawd u can bake.

⚢ That being said, she’s the cook in the relationship. Especially when it comes to meat. It’s problematic. Sevika’s version of “girl dinner” is straight up protein. Her typical meal is like. A rotisserie chicken + hard boiled eggs. It made you gasp the first time you saw her pull out one of her meal prep tins and it was just that.

⚢ Oh yeah and she meal preps

⚢ Claims she “doesn’t get sick” because her “immune system is just built different.”

⚢ When she does get sick, she refuses to chill out and let herself be sick and she tries to speedrun her way to health by taking too much vitamin C and then working out and cranking the heat to “sweat it out quicker.”

⚢ She knits to relieve stress

⚢ Sleeps topless and in undies. And a wife pleaser tank if its chilly.

[sapphicdalliances]

between this post and that post i am starting to reach levels of Sad About Jiang Cheng i had previously thought impossible. both metas are basically about the reality that wei wuxian was visibly and practically favoured over jiang cheng by his family members. and as the former points out it's sorta like… well, 1) he "needed" to be, because he was in a more vulnerable position socially and had been through more hardship, because his relationship with his family was not considered inalienable and therefore needed more reinforcement. and 2) because it's just… easier to favour him? he's magnetic and charming and fun to hang out with and always has a conversation ready to go. jiang cheng is not any of that.

i was chirping about this earlier – a thing about jiang cheng is that from a young age he is put into a lot of situations where everything sucks and he feels hurt and victimised but there is NO way for him to express that without coming off as completely unreasonable and unsympathetic, and even as a child he knows this. it cumulates in a big huge way with the core transfer. like he is upset when wei wuxian is praised over him, but he can't complain because it's simply true that wei wuxian did a better job. he's upset when wei wuxian receives comfort over him, but he can't complain because wei wuxian needs it or deserves it more in that moment. this continues for most of his life and i'm sure everyone who's ever had one of these moments knows there's no good coping method, you either complain anyway (and come off as entitled and jealous) or you try to get over it (which hurts to do and doesn't even garner any praise because it's kind of the bare minimum) or you internalise it as a You Problem (which breeds resentment and insecurity).

like afaict jiang cheng spends a formative portion of his childhood really aware that he's the unfavourite for a good reason and the main thing he can do to be shown the favour he craves is to be a different person with a different personality. really sucky situation for a kid to be in –

(especially because in his youth, a lot of these situations were literally no-win scenarios. because if he's worse than wwx at something then his mother yells at him and hits his brother and his dad doesn't do anything, but if he's ever better than wwx at something then he won't get praised for that either! because it would be something that's to expected from him anyway.)

and this is the background noise against which jc begged crying on his knees for wwx to be spared punishment, then attacked and strangled wwx, then tried his best to die to protect wwx. this is a relationship where… of course there's resentment. it would be crazy if there was no resentment. but there is still love. that's even crazier!

currently i think jiang cheng as a character is basically a depiction of a guy who fundamentally kind of sucks, but is actively trying his best and is frankly doing a pretty great job at not sucking. like he just doesn't have a good or fun personality and he's not likeable and he's not talented or sweet or charming or anyone's favourite person (EXCEPT – WAIT – EXCEPT FOR WWX'S!!! PRE-LAN ZHAN! and now – jin ling's!!!!) and he knows all of this, but he still spends a lot of the story trying his fucking best to be good to all of his people anyway.

he spent his childhood getting outshone by his brother and pissing off both his parents by just being himself, then his entire family died, then as an adult he was left out of the post-sunshot War Hero Boy's Club and had to jockey for political favour as the youngest and least experienced sect leader while the beacons of righteousness and confidence that were nmj and lxc were to his either side, his sister dies in his arms while looking at his brother, and even as an uncle he's competing with the always-gentle, always-sweet jgy who has the stronger social claim to his nephew due to being on the paternal side of his family. and all he's got to work with is himself, and that hasn't been good enough even once in the last 30 years.

a lot of jc haters have been @-ing me lately to expound on how jc is annoying and insecure and selfish and a prick and it's like ok yeah to all of that but frankly considering the circumstances he was operating under i think it is a fucking miracle that he didn't turn out worse.

[jollyhunter]

Tap Once For ...

⋆ ˚｡⋆ PAIRING Dean Winchester x fem!Reader [platonic, best friends]

WARNINGS Heavy Angst, Implication of depression (if you squint), Implication of suicidal thoughts, Rainy Night Drive (it’s a mood, I swear), Dean being unusually quiet, Lots of nonverbal communication, Reader and Dean have their own language, Dean finally gets a hug !! , sorta fluff in the end?, Season 7 spoilers, is set at the end of 11x7, No use of Y/N.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY Bobby's dead. And now Dean's dying his own, silent death. Sam sees it. You see it. He brushes it off, forces on his mask as usual. But you know a different way to make it crack; One without words.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS 3k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE Still thinking of this scene and the many things that were left unsaid. Consider it a sort of 'fix-fic' for this ep. ending. And perhaps overall for Dean's 'I don't talk about my crap'-problem.

If you want to feel the full vibe (recommended 💗): The songs played in the background are Dear Mr. Fantasy by Traffic (as in the canon scene) and Both Sides Now [1969!] by Joni Mitchell.

Dean smiles to himself.

First time ever since Bobby's death.

Cracks it in silence. In the safety of a rainy night. With no one to witness it. He glances to the right and up to the rearview mirror; Sam's snoring in the passenger seat and you're knocked out in the backseat.

It's just him behind the wheel and Dear Mr. Fantasy by Traffic playing in the background.

But that's alright. Because the smile that's stretched across his face is hollow.

A forceful attempt at following the advice he'd gotten from Frank.

"Do it with a smile or don't do it at all."

The corners of his lips curl up - twitch - dip down. He presses them into a thin line, before he tries again.

Every muscle's fighting him. Every emotion disagreeing with the new mask he forces onto his face, the one which is supposed to keep him from breaking down. Help him to pretend that it doesn't matter, that it doesn't eat him up inside that no matter how hard he tries, people just keep dying.

John, Ellen, Jo, Pamela - almost Lisa and Ben - then Cas and now… Bobby.

Just another one to add to the pile, right?

Who am I kiddin'…

It's not just the losses. It's the goddamn waiting. The never knowing when the next hit is gonna come. It's just a matter of time until you or Sam join the others. He knows, because it will be his damn fault.

But he can’t just quit and leave you and Sammy alone with all of this crap.

Like hell will I.

So he keeps pushing. Manages a smirk that does nothing to his eyes.

Until the darkness suddenly swallows him.

Drowns him in the void of the night, in what's left in the wake of bright orange beams which ripple through the interior of the car in a flash of a blur.

The sight has your chest tighten.

You're awake now, watching his occasionally lit-up expression through the rearview mirror without him realizing it.

Your heart twists. Face scrunches up. Damn… it's truly painful to witness. After a long beat, you cannot take it anymore.

"Dean?" you speak up softly, voice still raspy from the last hunt gone sideways. Dean's expression drops the same moment. Switches to his stoic one like a soldier summoned.

"Hm? Can't sleep?" he asks, voice gravelly but with that nonchalant tone he always likes to make use of. He lets his wrist rest casually on the steering wheel while his eyes flicker up to the rearview mirror to check on you before they return to the street ahead.

"Mhm..."

You swallow. Suck in a silent breath.

"Are you… okay?"

"Yeah. 'M fine," he answers quickly. His voice firm and exhausted as it cuts through the music like a blunt knife.

You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

The relevance of those all too familiar three damn words is sapped by now. In fact, it makes you wonder whether he even remembers their original meaning.

Dean's silent for a moment. Then his focus shifts to you as he searches your eyes through the small mirror ahead.

"What about you? How are ya holding up?" he inquires, his voice softened now.

Your eyes lock with his over the reflection. Both trying to read each other's emotions. But it's hard with the stark contours cast across both of your faces from the passing by streaks of light and the occasional shadows that eat your features whenever they roll across you.

You ponder for a moment. Then decide to go with the truth.

"Honestly? Not all too well," you admit quietly. You watch Dean's eyebrows pinch together, eyes fixed to the street – but it's obvious that he's fighting the urge to turn to look at you in concern. Instead he avoids your gaze altogether.

"You've been through the wringer. You should try'n get some shuteye," he mutters, fully aware that you weren't refering to the previous hunt.

You shift in the backseat. Pull your hoodie closer, clinging to the little warmth it provides while the distance between you two is stretching. In the way which always makes you feel like he's slowly walking away from you even though he's physically close enough to touch if you'd wanted to.

You hope he might say something more. Anything.

But he doesn't.

He's drifting further away from you and you can feel it.

Not just now.

But ever since Sam had gone Beautiful Mind and Cas had betrayed you all and died. It's like every time something happens, another piece of him is lost to the void.

And Bobby's death was just the thing to tip him over the edge.

"Can I pick a different song?" you finally pipe up again while sitting up straight, afraid of losing him completely if you were to let the silence stretch any longer.

Dean's attention snaps back to you, eyebrows raised. He hesitates, then nods.

"What d'you wanna listen to?"

"Um," you scoot to the middle of the bench, lean forward, chest hanging over the front's backrest as you fumble for the box still on the leather seat next to Dean. Your fingers rifle through the many bands and mix-tapes. Careful not to wake Sam, who's fast asleep with his long body folded into the corner of the passenger seat.

"This one," you hum satisfied as you pull one out and push it into the recorder.

Not even the first accord of the song fills the inside of the car when Dean's hand shoots out.

"Nope," he cuts in and hits the eject button with a little too much force, "We're not doing that therapy crap."

You startle at his quick reaction. Yet, you're not surprised, as you expected something along the line when you'd pick one of Bobby's tapes. The one Dean had saved from the many boxes which held Bobby's entire library and at least a few personal belongings here and there. Like the flask of his, which Dean's been carrying close to his heart for the past 5 weeks. And been making use of for at least two dozen times a day, sleepless nights not included.

"Whatever you're trying – don't," he adds annoyed.

Propped up on your forearms, next to his shoulder, you blink at his profile. He stubbornly keeps his focus on the road ahead, refusing to look your way. Once again.

You drop back into your seat with a heavy exhale. But stay quiet.

"What? Gonna give me the silent treatment now?"

Another beat of silence, then;

"I miss Bobby," you mutter in response.

Quiet. Honest and sad. Dean instantly picks up on it and his annoyance dissipates at once, frown wrinkles softened.

He lets out a quiet sigh. Then adds. "Yeah. Me too."

Heavy drops begin to rattle the hood. The sky seems to be able to do what he can't; emptying itself shamelessly. The unspoken conversation is taken over by the squeaking sounds of the wipers relentless battle against the flood that's trying to wash you off the streets.

The repetitive tac-tac-tac above you, along Sam's soft zzz-zzzz's has something calming. Soothing even. It drowns out the rest of the world, while the darkness swallows any reminder of civilization that passes by. And for a fleeting moment, the reality of you three is reduced to this.

All of your problems, all of your fears, losses, emotions, every thought unspoken; right here, right now, cooped up inside Dean's only safe haven.

He sighs. You sigh.

You sense the room to open up. It's small, it's fragile and you have no idea how much you can put into it until Dean decides to step outside again.

But you want to try.

"Sometimes… I think it's just all a nightmare, and when I wake up from it, he's still here… y'know? But… the nightmare never stops. And worst is… the world just keeps spinning," you confess in a weak voice. Vulnerable and broken. And for Dean it's just enough to make out amongst the noise of the car's engine and the heavy rain crashing down on its shell.

"Like nothing has changed. Like no one cares," you continue.

Dean doesn't move. He listens. Takes it all in.

Your focus flickers now, eyes glued to the raindrops racing against each other as they slide down the window. Its glass cold and damp under your shoulder which is pushed into the corner of the passenger door, temple dropped against it with a soft thud.

"And it pisses me off," you add in a bitter voice, "Everyone else just gets to live on. It's just not fucking fair."

You angle your head against the window, eyes darted past his shoulder to study his reaction.

Dean's jaw's set. His fingers tightening around the wheel ever so slightly, eyes refusing to lift and meet your pained expression.

For a moment it seems like he's going to open his mouth – but his voice dies down before his lips even part.

Perhaps because he's torn between letting the silence do the talking, or asking more and deal with the fear of not being able to carry the weight of your grief on top of his own right now.

You let out a soft huff at his lack of reaction. Which does not go unnoticed by Dean.

"Life ain't fair, sweetheart," he scoff-chuckles. The sound of it rough and bitter. His entire body is coiled tight. Clearly struggling to hold himself together. "And if you can't deal with that, chances are that you're in the wrong biz."

Your eyebrows furrow at his biting comment. And for a moment you have to bite your tongue to not fire something hurtful back. Instead you swallow the words back down, way too used to this defensive tactic of his by now to fall for it.

Even though Dean's putting up the same facade he's used for the past decades, you know that he cares. Deeply. Can see how his face does that pained scrunch whenever his heart twists. It's brief, but it's definitely there and you never miss it. Even if he won't admit it.

You both let your confession hanging in the air until it's lost in the heavy silence once more.

You turn your head to watch the world race past you. Pull a knee up to your chest to rest your arm on it. Forehead dropped against the damp glass. Resigned.

Out of your view, Dean keeps checking on your curled up form through the rearview mirror.

After a while, he suddenly reaches over and shoves the same cassette back into the player. Hits play without looking. And your head instantly whips up in surprise as he lets Bobby's favourite song, Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell, fill the room between you.

Dean's focus is back on the blurry road with the two beams of light that guide him. The slow and familiar guitar tunes make his index finger tap on the wheel along the beats. But you can tell that his mind is still somewhere else entirely.

You sit up straight and decide to try a different approach.

Leaning forward slightly, you place a hand onto his shoulder. Dean startles from the unexpected contact, but doesn't pull away. Instead lets your touch ground him. You rub your hand along his jacket, inching up to the exposed skin of his neck, where the tips of your fingers brush across it. Slow and soothing.

A soft exhale's huffed from his nose. Eyes flutter closed before they return their focus to the road.

His mask slips, just for a split second.

And you cannot help but feel a surge of hope. Hope to finally reach that stubborn ass who happened to become your best friend years ago and one of the most important people in your life.

"You know, I'm a damn mess. So is Sam," you begin in a slow voice and lean in closer to him, lips right behind his ear, "And we don't expect you to be doing well either. In fact, I'd feel better knowing that we can share that pain."

Dean sucks in a sharp breath before you even get to finish your sentence. But you cut him short with his protests stuck on his lips.

"Dean-" your fingers dig into his shoulder as a warning, "I'm serious. Can I ask you to be honest with me for two goddamn seconds?"

He huffs. Rolls his eyes as he dramatically lifts and drops his hands down onto the wheel, muttering something about 'stubborn woman'.

You squeeze his shoulder and he scoffs, acting annoyed as he always does when he's being called out on his bullshit.

"Fine," he finally relents. Your grip softens at his answer. Even if it's obviously reluctant.

You take a moment to sort your mind. Planning your path through a damn minefield of words right now.

Then you soften your voice, as if you were talking to a cornered animal.

"You're not really okay, are you…?" - his muscles tense under your palm like you'd just pushed the muzzle of a gun into his back - "You don't have to answer that," you quickly interrupt his thoughts as you could practically see his throat grow tight, mind struggling to form an answer.

Dean frowns. Eyes glued to the road. Expression still guarded, but there's just the tiniest hint of... disappointment. A silent cry of desperation. Desperate for being exposed. For someone else to drag his emotions into the open.

"Then why'd you even ask'?" He snaps back at you without looking.

Slowly you move the hand on his shoulder, across his collarbone and down to rest your palm on his chest, leaving him the chance to protest. When he doesn't, you bring up your other arm and wrap them both around him from behind. You pull yourself closer until your chest's flush against his backrest, then hook your chin over his right shoulder.

Dean stiffens at first. Stunned by your unexpected action. But then his body begins to relax in the safety of your familiar embrace. You feel his chest heave and fall beneath you as a long exhale leaves his lips.

"Talk to me," you murmur. He blinks in confusion, eyebrows quirked.

Then you tap your finger once.

Right on top of his left chest side. Dean doesn't comment on it, but you can tell by the way his eyes flickered sideways to meet yours for just a moment, that he registered it.

And he instantly understands.

How could he forget the night he had opened up to you for the first time. That night he'd shown up on your porch out of nowhere. Drenched and shaking. Two weeks away from being torn to pieces and dragged downstairs. How you'd held him the entire night. Cradled his tear streaked cheeks. Listened, even though the words had failed him.

The warmth of your palms against his chest calms the storm that's churning in his mind. He's sure you can feel the way his heart is pounding underneath your tender fingertips. Just like that night you'd told him this thing you'd like to try.

You never spoke about it again.

But you didn't need to, because Dean and you had been using it ever since like second nature. Your own little language. Secret. Safe. Innocent in its own way. It harboured no judgment, no walls, no fear of being vulnerable. And most importantly;

No words. Just touch.

"I'm here for you. You know that, right?" you ask softly. His left hand tightens its grip around the steering wheel, refusing to slow down Baby, while his other slips to his knee. There his forefinger arches then…

Tap.

Your chest tightens as you watch the crack in his wall grow bigger.

"You holding up?"

Silence. Then a hesitant;

Tap... Tap.

Somewhere at the corner of your peripheral vision you sense how his green eyes are stinging from unshed tears.

His right hand comes up to cover yours on his chest, searching your connection. No words. Just his fingers intertwining with yours. Heavy hand pressed down onto your tender one. He squeezes it. Holding onto you like you're the only thing to keep him from drowning… or from doing something real stupid.

You swallow, a thought forming in your head which you'd tried to ignore for so long.

"Dean... you ever…" you hesitate. The murmured words next to his ear momentarily die down as they become heavy and cling to your tongue like tar.

Your arms unconsciously tighten around him, like you're scared of his answer, afraid he might disappear the moment the question leaves your mouth. And frankly, you were unsure whether you even wanted to know.

Then his thumb presses into your palm. A silent permission for you to go on. Maybe some voice inside him even begging you to.

You swallow. Start again. This time your voice comes out in a mere hush, just to make sure Sam wouldn't hear it.

"You ever think of… ending it all?"

Dean stiffens. Throat going tight. His grip painful as he clings to you. You feel him lift his finger, slow, shaky…

…

Tap.

Your stomach drops and your heart feels like a dagger just twisted it inside out. The single tap, so soft but clear against the knuckle of your middle finger.

Dean's face scrunches up as he's holding his breath without realizing it. Secretly regretting it all already. You're gonna panic. Judge him. Pity him. Yell at him, scold him even, for just as much as considering the thought.

How could I be so goddamn selfish and worry her like this?

"Damnit," he curses in silence, his free hand dragged down across his mouth briefly before it returned to the steering wheel.

You say his name softly as you feel the guilt building inside him. His jaw clenches. Shoulders shifting under your weight. Dean had picked up on how your breath hitched next to his ear when he confirmed your fears. How your hands tightened under his.

"Sorry," he suddenly chokes out.

The voice so raw, so small, so unbelievably vulnerable as the apology slipped him, that you decide to close the little gap that was left between you.

You lean in, nose nuzzled into his short, dark blond ruffled hair. Forehead gently pressed against the back of his head with your eyes closed. He swallows thickly at the unfamiliar feeling of your warm breath on his neck, lips tingling the short hair there.

"It's okay. I got you," you murmur in a low voice.

Dean's eyes widen in surprise. Stunned at the way your words came out so… calm, understanding, reassuring.

"You don't need to fake a smile for me."

Dean lets out a heavy breath. A bit shaky.

You squeeze your interlocked hands and he subtly leans his head back against yours. The smell of his hair fills your nose as you allow him to rest against you, face nuzzled into the warmth of the nape of his neck, your arms slung over his shoulders and hooked around his rising and falling chest, nothing but the familiar sound of Baby's engines carrying you through the storm, the melodic pitter-patter of the rain on the hood and the voice of Joni Mitchell in your ears.

"Can I stay like this for a bit..?" you ask in a sleepy murmur.

Dean shifts slightly under your weight as he feels you grow heavier against his back. He's not used to this kind of... intimacy. The knowledge that you need no words to understand each other. How the warmth of your body is enveloping him from behind, or your face is burried in his hair like its the safest place. The oddly comfortable feeling of... just being held.

And deep down it scares him how he's absuletly craving for more.

After a moment, his forefinger wiggles free from your grip, his palm still covering yours. While out of your sight, the corner of his lips tug into a hesitant, genuine smile... and he taps once.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE I'm still alive! Sorry for being so inactive lately... Writing is going very slow. And I'm one click away from throwing my laptop out the window (not really, I depend on Thanos. That's his name. 'Cause he loves to make things disappear lmao 🫰) ANYWAY. I've got so so many fics of y'all I want to catch up on. Promise I'll check them asap - so much I want to comment on and reblog but my tbr list just keeps growing?? Anyway, thanks to my lovely moots who keep me motivated to keep writing, I love you 💗 And a special shout to @the-potato-is-lonely for listening to my struggles with this fic 😭🧡

Dean Tag List:

@aylacavebear @jc-winchester @ambiguous-avery @bettystonewell @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @v1v1-3 @maddie0101 @livya99 @supernotnatural2005 @Ms-kayla-readinglover @youdontknowe @zepskies @waynes-multiverse @123passwort @lamentationsofalonelypotato @my-stories-vault

@champagnepoets @salemslostwitch @chevroletdean @multiversefanfics @toxicfataldestiny @sunnys-struggles @kimxwinchester @nesnejwritings @carliebear23 @alexxavicry

❀ꗥ Want to join my TAG LIST? Fill out this form!

[mjldx7]

Sorry I must...

Okay so random idea that hasn't left my mind.

SVSSS Rival Idol Groups.

So, two groups. Cang Qiong and Hua Huan.

Cang Qiong- Yue Qingyuan, Shen Jiu, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, Qi Qingqi, Liu Qingge

Hua Huan- Tianlang-Jun, Luo Binghe (tried to join Cang Qiong at first but was denied), Zhuzhi-Lang

Both- Shen Yuan

Now let me explain, both groups work under the same major company but have rivalries between the two of them for various reason. They share a studio but try and time things so they don't meet up.

Now, Shen Yuan joined the industry a bit late and there was an issue in his contract. Due to this issue he was technically apart of both groups. Could the company have fixed this, sure, but did they, no. So, Shen Yuan switches between the two groups.

Shen Yuan is of course not limited to his wifebeam only by svsss standards of course so he has both these groups wrapped around his finger (even if he doesn't really know).

Problem 1: Sharing a favorite idol between the two groups causes parts of the rivalry problems

Problem 2: The types of work now done.

Hua Huan's group is more known for darker themes within thier music, think like a mix between dark romance and heartbreaker stuff.

Cang Qiong is more pop based.

Pretty big difference between the two, oh does is cause problems tho for the other groups.

Cang Qiong sees Shen Yuan acting fucking seductive as hell in any sorta Hua Huan music/videos etc. Hua Huan sees Shen Yuan acting like a whole entire angel in anything Cang Qiong films. Both groups knows how Shen Yuan actually acts of course but God damn if the switch up doesn't kill some of them. (R.I.P. Liu Qingge after seeing Shen Yuan do anything suggestive in a Hua Huan video)

Okay, so background info down. Now to the idea plaguing my mind for the past week. "SIX the Musical". Cang Qiong had decided to do a fan film stunt for a musical voted on by fans. This is how it goes.

Mu Qingfang plays Catherine of Aragon -> sings "No Way"

Shang Qinghua plays Ann Bolyen -> sings "Don't lose your head"

Yue Qingyuan plays Jane Seymour -> sings "Heart of stone"

Qi Qingqi does the song "Haus of Holbien" as a joke for the most part but still kills it

Liu Qingge plays Anne of Cleves -> sings "Get down"

SHEN YUAN plays Catherine Howard -> sings "all you wanna do" (if that doesn't kill far to many people with the dancing involved to match the song then I don't know what would)

Shen Jiu plays Catherine Parr -> sings "I don't need your love"

It goes great-ish! Only a couple nose bleeds from the fans.

(OH YEAH, forgot to mention but in any song you know damn well that Qi Qingqi is playing an male characters. Fake mustache and everything, "Oh so I have a little flirt with the footman [get down]" and Qi Qingqi is there fake blushing acting like the footman while Liu Qingge is still acting)

Oh and in Haus of Holbien you know damn well the lyrics are taken into account of for the group. "You bring the corsets, we'll bring the cinches, no one wants a waist of nine inches" you know damn well someone is being forced into a corset screaming and kicking (shen jiu). "Try these heels, so high it's naughty. But we cannot guarantee that you'll still walk at 40" Mu Qingfang is struggling for his life trying to get up while wearing like 5-6 inch heels.

[hoiststowline]

responses to “don’t come over, I look like a mess” [w/ sunstreaker, cliffjumper, ratchet, bluestreak, hound & ironhide]

_

“What? No. What did you say? That doesn’t make any sense, I’m coming over anyways,”:

• Sunstreaker is probably the biggest repeat offender on this one, and he uses it in other situations, too. he suddenly can’t comprehend and doesn’t allow you to explain yourself, though he and you full well know he understands. grumbles the whole ‘you’re breaking up!’ schtick. pretends to drive through a tunnel when he’s forty-five seconds away (where there is no tunnels) just to hang up without letting you say a peep. he won’t leave either, so you comply and come to see him, or you will be hearing his horn for the better part of the evening.

• a second guilty charge is aimed straight at Cliffjumper. somehow, there is never any time to explain and he’s in a huge hurry, and he’s only calling you as a courtesy so you’ll be outside and ready to go. If you even get a word in, mentioning weakly you look like shit or don’t feel up to seeing him, he’ll hang up. He can’t hear your lies if he literally can’t hear them or something like that. but once he pulls up and you aren’t outside, now you’ve done it, though he never directs the frustration at you. but if he’s in such a big hurry, wouldn’t he have left by now? Surely doesn’t have the time to wait around- and he’s yelling that you look fine from the street.

“That suspiciously sounds like you just made that up. at what point has that ever stopped me before?”:

• Ratchet will express that in so many words, but his concern will triumph over most things. He’s worried by your misplaced and unusual deflection, partial to looking for his company when it’s often unattainable. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but in the spare moments he does have, he uses them to see you. So when you decline his request, he’s still coming over, hell or high water. Whatever you’re wearing or whatever you’re doing he’s fine being in the company of, so your excuses are paper thin. You don’t sound sick, but he’s gotta be certain of that...

• “yeah, a hot mess!” Bluestreak tried, you’ll give him points there. “…that’s what you meant, right?” Unsettled and nervous chatter arises on his behalf when you can’t quite articulate why you feel so messy, and he immediately begins pressing for answers. there's a full minute where he thinks he did something wrong, and just when you console him that he didn't, you can already hear his wheels burning rubber in the background. hah, good luck stopping him, he's already halfway to your place, and cannot fathom why you looking a little messy would ever prohibit him from coming over. he'll be wary and uneasy the rest of the ride, wanting to get to the root of your woes.

“You always look beautiful, but if you’re not up to company that’s okay,”:

• Hound sorta understands, yet doesn't quite completely in regards to your explanation. though he's disheartened by a handful of things- one that you don't feel up to par outwardly and think that he cares what you are wearing or how you look in this very moment. you always look perfect to him, and your comment only fuels an unsteady flame that makes him think something else is very wrong. but he won't pry or shoulder his way in, he knows you'll come around when you're ready to talk, being supportive as always. he won't argue, he's straight to the point: no, you don't look a mess. he doesn't have to see you to know that, he knows, and to call him whenever you're ready for his company because he'll be over in a heartbeat.

• if anyone gets it, it's Ironhide. your excuse is garbage and untrue, but he'll kid around and poke fun just to get you to laugh. "What, did you just wake up or somethin'?" He really misses your company if you end up canceling, but he makes sure you know that you always look good to him, no matter what. he ultimately respects your boundaries for a couple of hours, and then he's circling your block to make sure you're still alive in there. radio silence is unforgiving, but as much as he misses you, he doesn't want to cross the imaginary line that is your patience. something else must be wrong for you to disappear into your room for the majority of the day, and he intends to get to the bottom of it by the evening.

[x-olo]

Isono and Sasaki talentswap!

I was going for a more cozy vibe but when I saw what it would look like with a dark background I couldn’t pick between them so I decided to post both

I tried to redesign their clothes in a way that I could see them wearing it/parallel their og clothes like with Sasaki having more skin coverage and Isono having a preppy aesthetic

I decided to make some lore for this this little thing

Isono Miki the Ult. Student council president

When Isono’s channel started blowing up, she had to choose between continuing her education or pursuing this new opportunity. Instead of being an idol she decided to continue her formal education, while she does still stream online it’s only a hobby with her schedule being infrequent. Still being a part of the student council, she decides to work hard to become really efficient while still being her cheerful self. With hard work, she rises up to become the president of the student council. Maybe she’d even make up with her sister after gaining more courage from experience, who knows

I think that she’ll just be a small streamer who only streams like once a month and have a small audience (including Wada possibly) and still absolutely love music but isn’t pursuing it. Since she would probably get over her agoraphobia in this au, though, if she had angst in her life it’d probably be giving up her dreams of becoming a music producer, while she still enjoys being student council president, she’s always had a passion for music she’ll never achieve. She honestly only really sticked to her formal education since it was what you’re supposed to do, right?

Sasaki Hitomi the Ult. Internet idol

Due to her pedo teacher grooming her and at this point in time getting caught she decides to step down from her place as student council president from all the stress, the girl needs a break, but still continues being part of the student council as a regular member. While getting treated for her trauma she starts coping by watching internet streamers, her friend (pink subtitle girl) introduces her to internet idols and she is hooked. She feels as if her trauma is disabling her from achieving great things, hence, giving up the position of president. Soooo she decides to try and achieve something a little below than great.

She decides to try out being a streamer, putting all her time and effort into her channel, eventually becoming a well known figure, but just a niche like Isono was in the og. Her parents are okay with this, since she looks happy doing it, and that’s all they want. Since Sasaki is a very organized person, she manages to sorta balance her internet and school life, although she does pay more attention to her streaming career. Instead of pushing herself to become a successful person by being studious, she starts pushing herself to become more known to the world and entertain her fans, making her start to stay inside more often.

I think it would be cool in the kg if Sasaki is like Isono’s secretary since she also wants to do something importat. And Isono would maybe help reawaken Sasaki’s leadership skills.

They’d both admire eachother’s lives since that was their dream, seeing what could’ve been through a glass that also reflects the other’s unachieved dreams to be like you, so their bond will maybe be stronger in this alternate universe

+ a little cute idea that Wada is a fan of Isono and she’s really surprised abt it and doesn’t really know how to react since she’s never had someone be a fan of hers while Sasaki is just rolling her eyes with an amused expression knowing the same feeling of excitement and surprise Isono’s feeling when meeting a good-mannered fan for the first time

Bonus:

Decided to do a sprite edit since I thought it might look cool! It’s a bit messy but I think it looks good

[ssweetenrs]

Tease me, I. sae

Background + kissing drabble

If there was one thing Itoshi Sae was good at, it was definitely pushing your buttons.

From an early age, a simple playground rivalry paved a valley between the two of you, prompting the start of a decade long rivalry.

You got an A on your history test? He got an A+ with extra credit.

He joined the soccer team in freshman year? You made varsity volleyball and got praised as the best pin hitter in your district.

The two of you competed in club activities as well, arguing at almost every club meeting.

No matter what you tried, it was almost impossible to trump the mastermind that was itoshi sae, which prompted the two of you to take different paths.

He took spanish and entrepreneurship club, while you took model UN and french.

The only loophole in this was student council.

You couldn’t hand over such a valuable extracurricular to someone like itoshi, and he felt the exact same way. Your ego simply wouldn’t allow it.

Which led to where you were now.

It was way past school hours and you should’ve been home by now, but the paperwork can’t exactly file it’s self.

You stepped inside the student council room, prompting sae to glance up before going back to his work, not bothering to acknowledge your presence.

“Well hello to you too.” You mumbled, slamming your stack of sheets onto the dest next to his.

“Treasury documents?” He asked, eyebrows knit in concentration as he refused to look up.

“Sorta..” you trailed off, taking your homework papers from under the stack.

He sighed…. Or chuckled??

“I just needed somewhere quiet, okay?” You dispute, flustered at his suddenly cocky nature.

“The library’s quiet, why’d you chose here?” He teased, a small grin forming on his face.

“What, you think i’m here for you? Do your work, Itoshi.” You argued.

“I never said that” He stated, shaking his head. “You chose to sit next to me.”

“Oh shut up.” You groaned. He only chuckled in response, which annoyed you further. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just easy.” He smirks, touching your last nerve.

“Do your work Sae.” You blurted. He was having fun, but complies nonetheless and turns back to his work.

A minute of silence turned to ten, and your presence was practically gnawing at him. He wouldn’t be able to focus whatsoever— not with you around. You drove him insane.

“Well you seem distracted.” you pointed out, circling the last answer on the dreaded homework packet.

“Your attitude is annoying.” He groaned, leaning back in his chair.

Itoshi Sae was annoying. Seriously annoying.

Why not entertain it? Two can play at that game.

“Fix my attitude then.”

His eyes widened so quickly that you almost didn’t catch it, or how his ears flushed pink on the spot.

“Never thought you’d challenge me someday.” He sighed, leaning closer. “You want me to fix that little attitude problem?”

“Try me.” You stated, crossing your arms.

He grabs your chin, forcing eye contact. “you sure?”

“Quit stalling.”

“So impatient.”

He closes the small gap of space between the two of you in a demanding kiss, pressing himself against you.

The kiss quickly becomes intense as the two of you fight for the upper hand like you always had. He easily wins once again, dragging his tongue across your lower lip demanding entrance as his hands cradle your jaw.

Before you could go any further he pulls away, his hand remaining on your jaw.

There’s a hint of disappointment in your eyes as you stare at him, waiting for him to initiate something; anything.

“Got what you wanted?”

@ssweetnrs

[olive-ig10]

WELCOME TO YOUR DAILY DOSE OF HOW ARE WE THE DELUSIONAL ONES IM YOUR HOST OLIVEEEE!!!💙💛

Today we will be looking at all the bs I found the hellscape that is X/Twitter I tried to blur out the usernames as best as I could if you do figure out who these people are do not flame them or say something as it would be a reflection of our community as this is just for shits and giggles without further ADOOOOO let’s see what the Milevens are up to

Starting off strong…

What I mean when I say they call us delusional they tryna prove something that ain’t even true yet 😔🥀

Did I mention that literally all Milevens Stan’s are sorta Bychance to I say sorta because that would be too much gay in one show and we already have Robin so……

Feeling aggressive I see

If you can’t see it the caption says “Mileven endgame” while also have blue,yellow, and green as their background this person also had a kidovna pfp 🥀🥀🥀

I have 0 words for this one….

WHOS GONNA TELL EM…..

Saved the best for last and I’m actually so concerned for them you guys don’t understand

Okay that’s it for now……

Bye bye- OLIVEEE

[supernova41st]

Always Forever ✩‧₊˚

Tf2 x Teen!Reader

A/n: Ty to all the people that voted for that poll I did last week! This is sorta ‘recycled’ from this post I made just for Scout, I rewrote most of the stuff for his section. Was going to put ‘Skinny’ by Billie Eilish as the song here but I felt it was too angsty, that has nothing to do with anything I just wanted to share that.

Warnings: ‘Troubled’ Teen, Mentions of period, slight angst,

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

Spy

✭ Since spy is.. spy he knows nearly everything about your background, surprisingly he feels pity for you. He knew that the other mercs didn’t exactly have the best home life but here you were, barely finishing highschool and becoming a mercenary

✭ Although he does feel sorry he still seems like the same bitter spy he is to everyone else, maybe not as much but overall the team can’t sense any different emotions towards you.

✭ Missions with him are fairly awkward, you expected him to say some petty bullshit straight from the start but he mostly just seemed observant of you.

“You just gonna glare at me for the rest of this thing?”

“If it bothers you so much why don’t you crawl back to your mother”

“I can’t go back, you know how my life use to be”

✭ Oof, that kinda got to him.

✭ Like with Scout, he rarely ever calls you by your name/title. He mostly just calls you ‘girl’

✭ He tries to get use to your teenage perks, it’s been a while since he’s been a father so it took a while.

✭ once your teenage girl instinct kicked in once you realized he was snooping around your bunk room, you weren’t happy

“Who was in my room?”

“Cough what?”

“I went in my closet and my shoes were out of order because I put them from my least to most favorite and my converse were next to my combat boo-WHO THE FUCK WAS IN MY ROOM??”

✭ It’s ok, he won’t be snooping around there for a while for his sake <33

Heavy

✭ Every time he looks at you he looks like he’s about to cry. Can you blame him? You remind him of his sisters so much!!

✭ Especially after learning about your rough past.. god he wishes he can just have you move in the cabin with his sisters. It’d be so much better than what you’ve been through.

✭ Since he’s been around girls his entire life he warmed up to you real fast. Will gladly watch your back out in the battle field

“Jesus heavy!! I could’ve taken that shot Yknow? You look like Swiss cheese..”

“It’s alright, little one. Not as frail as you.”

✭ if you forget to ask for pads when goods get shipped to the base don’t worry, he always orders some in case you forget

“(Y/N), Miss Pauling told me that you forgot about Red riding hood visiting.”

“Gasp Oh god.. Thanks so much, Heavy.”

“No problem”

✭ Easily he’s the one you like the most. Not only is he chill but he’s always there for you 🫧

Sniper

✭ Divorced dad core

✭ Honestly he doesn’t really mind how young you are, as long as you can do your job he’s pretty okay with you

✭ Although (as said before) he does give divorced dad vibes. Helping mow the lawn, let’s you have a sip of his beer, spending weekends in his camper van, etc.

✭ He enjoys going on camping trips with you and teaches you how to use his rifle. Once you got injured near your eye because of the harsh recoil, he felt real sorry

“You good mate? Those frozen peas doin’ any good for ya??”

“Sniper I’m fine!! It’s just a bruise”

“Yeah, a big one! Lil’ bugger is already turnin’ yellow.. don’t tell Heavy I did this to ya”

✭ He always has to swat your feet off the dashboard of his car as if it’s not already dirty

✭ will NOT let you play music in there, he says it’s “too sappy for his taste”

✭ (Extra)

✭ Soldier doesn’t like you going out, divorced mom core.

“AH! LOOK WHOS FINALLY HOME FROM SNIPERS, ONLY 2 SECONDS LATE.”

“What?”

Scout

✭ Don’t get him started.

✭ This boy will defend you with his LIFE. (not on the battlefield)

✭ Anyone giving you a hard time? Scouts here!!

“Hey, (Y/N), perhaps before jumping straight into the enemy team you might want to wait for yours to come over??”

“Wow another mission where you blame everyone but your big ass 😐”

“That’s a little out of pocket but I mean.. thanks?”

✭ Miss Pauling and him are your parents now btw. They take you EVERYWHERE with them

“Guys I really don’t have to go, plus I don’t have any extra money to pay for myself anyways”

“We’ll just pay it for ya toots!! You can order all the food you want”

“Yeahh, under 30$ tho.”

✭ Despite how much fun he has with you, he does have a deep connection with you as well. He knows how it feels to be seen as ‘useless’, so he tries his best to make sure you have the best time you can at a place like this.

“You alright, kid? It was gettin’ pretty ugly out there, especially with all that blood splatting all over ya”

“I’m good, I just hope I don’t get any infection since I got some blood on my eye..”

“Ew.. I mean-cool!! That’s pretty sick if you ask me”

✭ Does not ask you about your past, let alone bring it up. Scout may be stupid, but he’s smart enough to know that he’ll probably say something ignorant if the life you gave up ever gets brought up.

[captivating-flavors]

birthday | sylus

pairing: dad!sylus x non mc reader

prompt: -

summary: the morning of sylus' birthday.

words: 845

warning(s): fluff (uhh sorta badly written) - [oh and thats sylus and mc's child but mc died but thats not mentioned so yeah angst undertones?]

a/n: lol i am late to the party bc work has been kicking my ass but all of a sudden i thought of sylus being awakened on the day of his birthday by his daughter jumping on his bed??? and i have been thinking of dad!sylus a lot lately ok (its in my wip idk when or if i'll ever finish it tbfh lol) idk reblogs, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated <3

masterlist

Sylus knew you were up to something.

The first thing that gave it away was the soft padding sounds of your footsteps against the wooden floor of the room at four in the morning. He knew that you tried your best to be as quiet as possible, but him being the light sleeper he is still heard it.

The next thing he noticed as he drifted in and out of sleep was the sound of the mixer running, accompanied by faint giggles and one of his antique records being played softly in the background.

“It’s not red enough!”

“Is it? Do we need to add more of the food coloring?”

“More red! More red!”

The other thing was the sweet scent wafting through the air. And about several hours later, it was the whisper-shouting you and Layla were doing from outside of the door.

“Shh! You’ll wake him, Y/N!”

“Sorry! The cake’s kind of heavy. Okay, you should open the door on three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

Immediately upon swinging the door open, Layla sprinted towards the bed and plopped herself on top of Sylus, who was sleeping on his stomach. You had the cake in both of your hands, trailing behind her and walked past the bed in favor of the desk by the corner to relief yourself off the weight of the two-tiered cake the two of you had just baked.

You had the cake covered in red and black frosting. You even attempted–strong emphasis on the word attempted–to use the frosting to draw crow on the side of the cake as you had Layla complete the finishing touches by putting all the rest of the decorations all over the top of the cake, like the golden chocolate balls and red edible flowers, before piping on a simple flower design here and there to cover the areas she missed.

“Daddy! Daddy, get up!”

Sylus stirred, which prompted Layla to get off him and jump on the bed several times as he positioned himself to lie on his back.

“Careful, Angel. Wouldn’t want you to fall off the bed.” Sylus chuckled as he reached over to catch Layla midway through another bounce against the bed before embracing her in a tight hug.

Layla giggled as she pushed away from him, “Daddy, get up! It’s your birthday.”

“Oh? Is it?”

“Yes! Y/N and I baked you a cake.”

Sylus looked over to you as if asking for confirmation, which prompted you to respond as you set up the candles, “We did. We woke up super early for this.”

With the candles now lit, you brought the cake over to Sylus’ side of the bed. Sylus sat up, his legs swung over the side of the bed with Layla following suit, copying his actions exactly, which lead you to chuckle in amusement.

Layla clapped her hands and turned towards Sylus, “Make a wish, Daddy.”

“I wish–” He was, however, cut off by the pair of tiny hands slapping over his mouth.

“You’re not supposed to say it out loud or they won’t come true!” Layla whined as she removed her hands from his mouth.

“And who told you that, sweetheart?” Sylus reached over to her and placed her on his thigh.

“Y/N did, remember? She said it on my birthday.”

Sylus cocked his eyebrows at you but relented, “Alright, then.”

Sylus closes his eyes for a few moments, thinking over what to wish before settling on one thing. He opened his eyes and gave Layla a nudge, “Will you help me blow out the candle?”

Layla nodded enthusiastically before counting down. The two of them blew in tandem, putting out the flames on top of each candle.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!”

“Thank you, Angel.” Sylus leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“C’mon, let’s have breakfast. Y/N made pancakes!” She said as she got off his lap and sprinted towards the kitchen.

You chuckled at her energy as you placed the cake on the bedside table before looking up at Sylus, who now stood in front of you.

“So…” Sylus hummed in response as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

You continued after he pulled away, “I hope I succeeded in making today a little bit more memorable.”

Sylus chuckled, “You never fail.”

“I’ll take that as a thank you. Layla and I had fun, so that’s what really matters right?” You teased before dropping to a more genuine tone, “Happy birthday, Sylus.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“C’mon, let’s have breakfast. We have a whole day planned for you, you know.” You grabbed him by the arm, heading towards the door of the bedroom.

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

You turned to him as the two of you walked out of the room, “Oh, by the way, what was it that you wished for?”

“Wasn’t I not supposed to say it out loud lest it not coming true?”

I wish for them to always be happy. I wish that this warmth could last. I wish to always have them by my side.

-

taglist: @mayooness

[c0l0rfulpatchi]

My Favourite Prosekai Girlie

I tried giving her a sorta dynamic pose- and it looks oke igg. I mostly enjoyed just the coloring but I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH how my perfectionism kept working on the background since i wanted to do sum fun but i just went simple since i was just mentally tired working on her (especially the patterns on her clothes my god)

Anyway whoever did An's Design seriously COOKED with this one but I was just nearly defeated by her clothes and the whole coloring process sjsbskns

[elenamegan14]

One Piece Imagine: F!Reader giving a Victory Smooch to Monster Trio

Luffy

Luffy did not see himself as a hero. He is a pirate, and he never shares especially food. But boy, the rage he felt when he saw that terrible Marine captain stole the food that you have painstakingly tried to keep - nobody has the right to starve anyone on HIS watch!

So you truly fall for him when he and his crew return with a wagon of fruits, veggies, all the finest delicacies he can offer... and a very beaten up corrupt Marine captain on his feet. The villagers were more than grateful to be freed from that jerk, especially you.

After giving that Marine a well-deserved kick on the nuts before handing him to the ACTUAL authority, you came up to Luffy with a plate of his favorite meat on the bones and told him that he deserved a reward for helping her. He gratefully accepts it... but not before you gave him a gentle peck on his cheek, "My hero." Luffy is annoyed that you are interrupting his meal. Also, he is not a hero, damn it! But he is still grateful for the reward. Meanwhile, Sanji is fuming about the background of why Luffy always gets the good part of the reward.

"Shishishishi! You're welcome! But I want more meat instead of kisses!"

Zoro

You're gonna need a lot of cold showers when Zoro saves you. because the way he saves you is actually hoooooot.

Oceans in Grand Line are stupidly dangerous. Freaky weather and monsters will always come when you least expect it. So it really kind of surprised you when the crew got ambushed by a giant Sea King.

A very vicious, pissed-off Sea King.

Its battle with it can be described as near-death and brutal. The crew had a lot of close calls, but it was when its jaws almost closed on you that Zoro got to work.

A couple of swishes from his blade, followed by an intense "ONI GIRI!" battle cry had turned that Sea King into a seafood fillet fit to feed as Luffy's dinner. It was vicious, it was professional. IT WAS HOT.

When Zoro came to check on you, you had to fan yourself really hard because, WOW. How does that muscle of his work again? And how hard his teeth are? Zoro did not have time to react before your lips descended on him, catcalls and cheers from the crew (and a furious rant from Sanji) accompanied the scene. "My hero~" you purred.

The normally serious Zoro became incredibly flustered, annoyed, and sorta impressed by your reward. He never expected this turn of events, promising you that he will need more than that in the bedroom.

"Oi, OI! Really? Ah, damn it. All in a day's work I guess. Seriously, what was that?"

Sanji

The day you're engaged to the most violent and sexist man is the day Sanji saved you. Your noble parents sold you off to the most notoriously rich man, who is known for his brutish "manly" treatment of women. To them, it was discipline. But to you and the other poor women, he is hell.

Enter Sanji. He has been on the island for a few days and he already heard plenty of horror stories about the future groom of yours. So he did what a pirate should do - crash into the party with the crew and humiliate your father and groom with the knowledge of wine and food.

Your ex-fiancee's luck ran out when he slapped you halfway across the room when you tried to stop him from jeopardizing the guests' safety. Gone is the suave Sanji - he only sees a man who DARES to hurt a lady and brags about it - oh, he won't get away with it. One Diable Jambe Concasse later, Sanji left the terrified household and one horribly hurt and unconscious ex-fiancee, carrying you in his arms.

When you're already in a safe space, Sanji asks if you're okay... only to be met with a barrage of kisses on his face and a large one of his lips. Never had you felt so grateful, so much in love with Sanji. "My hero! Thank you so, SO, much!"

There was a happy, sheepish grin, lots of "mellorine!" and blood spurts from the nose before Sanji replied joyfully, "You're welcome, milady!" And then he would ask if there is more to come from your reward.

He nearly went to heaven when you slyly said yes.

"HA! You see that?! I am a hero! Yes, I am! Mr. Prince is here to save the ladies's day from danger! Ahaha! I am always here to serve you any time, Y/N-chwaaan!"

Please reply if you want to suggest more scenarios like this with other characters!