#eggplant with nose

[may-k-world]

ナスあるある 🍆🍆🍆 寝てる…😴

[bishimightwing]

Tag dump vol.1 - issue#2 - naughty tag, TWs, OOC PSA, friend and foe muses tags, self and other blog promos

Friend/Loved ones tags get blue 💙 hearts

PLZ DON'T REBLOG

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.5k

cw: established relationship, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), rough sex, blow job, cunnilingus, bondage, blindfold, use of safe word, slight degradation (use of the word slut), explicit language, safe word, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, honey), aftercare 

Summary: You send your husband an eggplant emoji as a joke, but he doesn't find it amusing one bit.

Author’s Notes: Barely proofread, hardly edited, all horny. Just my little contribution to the plethora of delicious fics that came out after this latest episode. Tagging @lovekento because this was inspired by your recent ask about the safeword audio we love so much. Also tagging @darkstarlight82 because of your recent ask to be tagged in JJK fics! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading! MDNI and support dividers credit to @/cafekitsune (as always).

Nanami does not take kindly to jokes. Years of being together and he’s uptight as always. That doesn’t mean you stop trying, especially when you love how mad he gets at you.

It’s innocent, silly, completely unserious. I’m really craving something tonight, followed by suggestive emojis, including the winky face and a particularly phallic vegetable. You grin at your screen when you notice the three dots blinking, indicating that he’s read it and is currently typing a reply. Probably growing hard in his pants just thinking about it, knowing him. Before he can say anything, you send him a selfie of you at the grocery store, holding up two large eggplants, smiling wide at the camera. Eggplant parmesan! The dots flash once more, then disappear immediately, and you crack up in the middle of the produce section when he ends up not responding at all. 

Back home, it’s eerily dark inside with all the lights off. You carefully set your groceries on the counter, clicking the switch to illuminate the kitchen. You’re startled when you notice Nanami’s burly silhouette in the living room, back turned towards you, sitting upright on the couch, motionless. He does nothing to acknowledge your presence, worrying you even further. “Honey?” you call out, slowly making your way towards him. His arms are crossed over his chest, bulging out of his sleeves, staring straight ahead with a menacing look on his face. He remains silent, ignoring you. 

“Kento,” you say, swallowing hard, nervous at this unusually sinister behavior.   

“Thought you were craving something.” His voice is low and husky in his throat. Almost threatening.  

You kneel in front of him, leaning on his thighs. “It was a joke, honey.”

Finally, he looks at you, gaze intense from behind his glasses, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep inhale through his nose, exhale out his mouth. “So, you riled me up for no fucking reason then?”

You gulp loudly again, taken aback by his sudden vulgarity, simultaneously aroused. “I’m sorry, Kento.”

“Do you think I’m going to let you get away with this?” He grips your chin, focusing your attention on his lap. “Look how hard I am. Look at what your stupid joke did to me.” His massive erection is strained in his pants. Your pussy throbs, mouth salivating at the sight of it.

He unbuckles his belt and splits his zipper open. “You know what you have to do, don’t you sweetheart?” He shrugs his pants down enough to free his cock, veins protruding on the thick shaft. You nod silently, peering up at him with wide eyes, parting your lips, hungry for him. 

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters, stroking himself in his fist, precum oozing from the tip. “Stick out your tongue.” You do, letting it hang from your bottom lip, mouth open.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “So obedient for me.” He swipes his thumb over his cockhead, collecting the precum to smear it onto your tongue. “Swallow. Get a taste of it before you take me.”

You obey, relishing the salty, luscious flavor down your throat, your eyes never leaving his. He smirks, tracing your lips with his thumb, the first hint of softness since you this all started. “I’m going to ruin this mouth. Understand?” 

You nod again, panties wet with your arousal. Hoping he doesn’t notice, you reach between your legs, desperate to touch yourself. He catches you, using his foot to swat your arm away. “Ah, ah, ah. You’ll have your turn later.” He loosens the spotted tie on his neck to cover your eyes with it, knotting it tight. “There. Nothing except my cock to occupy this little head of yours.” He guides his cock into your mouth, sliding it along your tongue until he bottoms out. “Now, suck,” he demands, your face pressed to his groin, bottom lip grazing his heavy balls. You bob your head back and forth on him, drool leaking from the sides of your lips, teasing your gag reflex with every solid thrust, swallowing it down every time he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he whispers, cradling your face. “Such a good fucking slut for me.”

After several more strokes, he pulls out of you, cock wet with your saliva, squelching between his fist as he continues to jerk himself off. “On my lap. Come on.” He lends his hand, helping you up while the blindfold remains. You bend over his thighs, in position for a spanking, just as he expects. 

He chuckles. “Good girl. You already know that you need to be punished, huh? Always playing these ridiculous pranks on me. I hope you learn your lesson after this.” He slides the belt off his waist, binding your wrists behind your back, shoulders in an uncomfortable stretch as the leather digs into your skin. The need to be touched by him overwhelms you, body tingling with anticipation, pussy aching to be filled. 

He pulls your pants down, leaving you only in your panties from the waist down. The first spank sends shivers down your spine, the loud smack bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, flesh prickling from the contact. The second comes almost immediately, surprising you. You whimper, shutting your eyes, clenching your legs together. “Kento.”

A third is delivered, your ass throbbing and swelling against his calloused hand. “What?” he growls, palm ready for a fourth. 

“Fuck me,” you whine, jittering on his lap. You can’t take it anymore. You want him. You need him. 

“Oh, so you’re giving orders now?” He rolls you on your back, tugging your panties off, exposing your glistening cunt. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You know that. I can’t just give you what you want after what you did to me.” He spreads your legs apart, teasing your slit with his fingers, spreading your slick across your swollen clit. “Look how fucking juicy you are. All that because I fucked your throat. Nasty slut.”

You hear him spit, then feel the trickle of his saliva coat your aching bud. He repeats, soaking you in his spittle. He readjusts himself on the couch so that he’s between your legs, licking and slurping your cunt until his chin and nose are glossy. You squirm, knees shaky, already pushed to your limits. His lips surround your clit, sucking on it until it’s puffy in his mouth, tongue flicking it aggressively, pussy fluttering with arousal. You’re overstimulated, core incredibly tight, ready to fucking burst. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he muffles, still slobbering. “Come on my face. Squirt all over this couch. I’m going to fucking embarrass you like you did me, you stupid slut.” You whine his name, gushing for him, rutting your hips against his face, writhing on the cushions damp with your juices. 

He rolls you over again, dragging your body until you’re up on your knees, ass up. “I’m going to wreck this pussy. Pound it until you learn your lesson. Got it?”

You nod erratically, ready to be fucked hard and fast. He enters you smoothly, stretching you out until you’re completely full of him, everything so wet and messy between you. He pumps his cock in and out of you, pace increasing the more and more your body yields to him. He fucks you like an animal in heat, railing your cunt like it’s his own personal cock sleeve for him to use and tear apart. 

Blindfolded and still bound by the wrists, you begin to grow scared of his carnal behavior. His nails imprint your skin, grip so strong it hurts with every brutal thrust. The guttural growls he emits sound nothing like the Nanami you know. The way he bullies his cock into your tight pussy, so deep and so rough that a cramp develops in your abdomen makes you think that the person fucking you is a complete stranger now. You want your husband back. It takes you a few tries to get it out, but eventually, you do, whimpering, “Makgeolli.”

He doesn’t hear you, so you say it once more, louder this time. “Makgeolli.”

Immediately, it’s as if a switched is flipped. He pulls out, quickly removing the belt and blindfold off you, his tie saturated in tears and sweat. “Hey, hey, hey. Sweetie, I’m here. I’m right here. You’re okay.” He pulls you up on his lap, cradling you in his arms, kissing your sticky forehead, brushing away any of the remaining tears from your eyes. 

You relax into his hold, nestling your face into his shoulder, steadying your breathing. He massages your back, pressing soft kisses on your cheek. “I’m sorry, princess. I’m so sorry. I got carried away, I admit it.” His voice is soothing now, familiar and comforting in your ear. 

Sniffling, you ask, “Are you mad at me?”

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I was never mad to begin with. I just wanted to tease you, but I took it too far. I’m sorry.” He kisses you on the lips, cupping your check in his palm. “Your joke was actually quite funny.”

You giggle softly, running your fingers through his hair, damp with his own perspiration. “At least I got you to finally admit it.”

He gives you another smooch on the forehead, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ll run us a bath, okay? And then after, we can order pizza and watch a movie. Sound good?”

“Yes. And I’ll help you with this while we’re soaking in the tub. Does that sound good?” You palm his cock, still stiff and wet against his abs. 

“Whatever you want, princess.”

[sillywizardvoice]

let’s talk about bonzo. fucking asshole shit face bonzo, can’t even buy his own motherfucking house bonzo, lunchbox in comic sans frankly embarrassing goddamn blobby knockoff bonzo. i REFUSE to call that waste of space “mister” because he is undeserving of my time and respect. He’s a freak and gets paid to murder people, LIKE WORKS FOR THE FUCKING GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED KINGDOM and he STILL lives with Nigel Dickface. From the moment I had to see his ugly ass yellow eggplant-for-a-nose face during the ARG i knew he was a piece of shit and guess what? time and time again i am proven right. If I ever have to hear him and his jaundiced ass again i am going to end the episode, unsubscribe from protocol, delete spotify, and scream. I want him to die a death where he is ground up Mikaele Salesa style, or maybe has each of his stupid motherfucking orange spots popped one by one. Do not come to me with your defenses for this sickly excuse for a creature. I don’t care whether he is a bear or a twink or a twunk he is BONZO he is SHIT and i HATE HIM. Stupid cocky asshole has a goddman theme song with children singing about him WHERE DID THOSE CHILDREN FUCKING COME FROM he is ugly and i haet him. fucking illiterate piece of televised garbage i hope nigel dickenass wakes up in a cold sweat every night because he created such an abhorrent monstrosity. i hope he knows it lives in his stupid fucking house wearing a stupid fucking fedora and i hope idiot loser bonzo kills him and then kills itself. i would celebrate his death every year with a cupcake that says I HATE FUCKING BONZO.

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Hello! I LOVE your different headcannons for Sanji. If your accepting request, can you do one where Zeff and Garp are like old rivals/lovers, where Garp brings Luffy, Ace, and Sabo to the Baratie just to see Zeff. But unbeknownst to Garp, the ASL trio meets Sanji and have a childhood sweethearts moment (ASL Trio x Sanji). Garp just laughs and Zeff is modified that his own eggplant managed to pull 3 boys.

Zeff and Garp have been rivals and lovers since the dawn of time. Garp will come around when they're younger and tell him about his battles with Roger and White Beard and the parties after. Of course nothing compares to his time with Zeff. Nothing.

Zeff always gives him that unimpressed look as he feeds Garp and then suddenly be in the marines lap and held and cooed over as Zeff cursed him to hell and back. Garp always laughed at that. Then when Baratie opens and Garp meets Sanji, Garp says he'll be back.

He comes back a week later with three kids entow. Zeff pinches the bridge of his nose as they're all introduced. Sanji is staring at them before shrugging and going to the kitchen but he's caught and told to go play. Sanji is utterly confused as he's hauled away by the other kids. Also yeah, Sabo is Sanji's first kiss. Ace uses Sanji as a pillow and carries him all the time, Luffy is holding Sanji's hands all the time. ASL is constantly hanging off Sanji somehow someway in that childhood love type of way.

Zeff is glaring at Garp who is laughing so hard like a year or two later when ASL all say they're dating Sanji and Sanji is just there, trying to get to the kitchen to avoid this conversation. Zeff tells his son he's too pretty for his own good and Sanji looks affronted at that. Garp places a big kiss to Zeff's cheek and Zeff smacks the shit out of Garp.

Tell me he wouldn't.

[conkers-thecosy]

Little character-building HCs I like to use in my fics...

Bilbo prefers ale, and Thorin prefers wine. Bilbo doesn't mind wine and Thorin doesn't mind ale, but they both have a strong preference for the other. When they both order drinks, they have to swap as the bar tender will always assume it's the other way around.

Bilbo has been insulted many times throughout the journey, but being called a "ferret" by the trolls offended him more than anything. It's also subconsciously the reason Thorin calls him a "rat" on the ramparts later...

Thorin sleeps in, and Bilbo rises early. Bilbo is from a farming community, and hobbits would be up with the dawn - how else would they eat first breakfast at 7am every day? Dwarves are more likely to be night owls, I think, and therefore sleep in later.

Thorin's birthday is January 12th! This one was pinned down mostly by the excellent and lovely @ladyrionaofthelake who came up with a whole heap of reasons for the date, after I mentioned I thought he was a January baby, and asked if she wanted to pick the date for me to use in fic!

Bilbo is a hairy little fella - just look at those feet! He's not smooth as an eggplant under all those clothes, for sure!

Hobbit vision is better in the day, and Dwarven vision is better at night. They both have excellent hearing, but a hobbit nose isn't to be matched, and therefore Bilbo is more likely to pick up scents than any other member of the company.

Bilbo is demisexual. I always felt like he was on the ace spectrum somewhere, but this suits my personal headcanon of how Bilbo approaches romance in general. Maybe I'm projecting a little with this one, but well... I just really like the idea!

In the sun, Bilbo tans and Thorin burns. Hobbits are outdoorsy folk, and dwarves aren't, so it just makes sense that way around, I think!

[bump1nthen1ght]

To Be Cherished (Dragon x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Male!Dragon x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Slight infantilization (of the reader)

Word Count: 2255 words

Summary: You'd never thought of yourself as the "darling" type; That seemed more fitting for demure nobility, fawned over by their one true love. Usually a knight, or a duke, or someone else.

But dragons were never ones to play by the rules.

Request: heyo, if it’s okay, could i have a male dragon taking a transmasc (or just gn) human to be their pet? kind of just petting and praising the reader, saying things like “good boy/pet” to them? thank you!

A/N: Another dragon! Feels like I haven't written a proper dragon fic in forever, glad to be back.

I wasn't sure if this request wanted NSFW, so I decided to play it safe and do SFW. But if people want a NSFW second part (or another part in general!), I'd be glad to continue this!

When you started this day, you had expected mundanity. Thats what your whole life up to this point had been, a slightly-changing list of chores on the same land your family has worked on for generations. It may have been boring to some, knowing that some towns folk would refer to your family as ‘simple people’, but you always brushed it off. You loved your life! You loved the ever present routines and the beautiful rolling hills, even the gray-blue mountains that seemed to loom over like a fog. It was nice, your life was nice!

Now, looking down the muzzle of a dragon, you think you may have benefitted from exploring a bit more. Maybe if you had gone into town more, talked to more adventuring parties, you’d have the proper response ready when you found a Dragon sitting in your pumpkin patch.

“Hello?”

You mutter, which has the dragon cocking its head. It’s eyes are frighteningly large, giant pools of yellow with a menacing black slit at the center. they sit several feet above you, even with its head tilted low to look at you. A wave of its hot breath rolls over you like a summer breeze, it’s nostrils right by your face.

“H-how can I help you?”

The dragon doesn’t move, just letting it’s third eyelid flit between, only adding to its uncaring (?) gaze,

“Uhmm…” You mutter, looking at your basket. “I have some cucumber, some eggplant, some tomato-” You hold up a fresh, fat red tomato to the dragon's nose, “-if you want some?”

You know dragons prefer more luxurious gifts, but maybe it's hungry? Whatever it wants, it can have, you’re just hoping it doesn’t sees you as the meal.

Another wave of breath is snorted over you, ruffling your overalls and the straw hat on your head. Your hands shake, still tired from harvesting all your vegetables this morning, your nails caked in dirt. You’re sure you look a mess right now, especially in front of something as regal as a dragon, you hope the smell of sweat and soil is enough to deter it from eating you.

The dragon eyes the tomato, but does nothing to eat it. You slowly put it back into your basket.

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got it. Just a farmer, as you can tell.” You rub the back of your neck, mayb you could appease to it’s sense of humor? Dragons love wiley adventurers, don’t they? “I’ve been told I can make a mean brisket, though. W-would you like some of that?”

The dragon blinks again, but this time you see the sides of its mouth begin to curl up, it’s tail flitting behind it. Is it…smiling?

“Yes.” The dragon’s booming voice nealry rocks you backwards, just as noble and threatening sounding as you thought it would be. “I think you will do, just fine.”

Before you can even stutter out a “What?” the dragon's claw descends upon you, gingerly wrapping around your torso as its wings extend. The ground rumbled as it flaps the giant wings, pushing it’s massive body off the ground with you still in it’s paw. You’re gobsmacked, no words and breath left to exclaim as it begins to take off into the air. A million and one thoughts and panics run through your mind, but as quickly as you realize you are being kidnapped, you black out.

—--

You’ve never actually swam in a lake, but if it was anything like this 30 foot cavern-bath you were taking, you were clearly missing out.

You had woken up in a dark cave, so far underground that the only light source were the various braziers and bioluminescent mushrooms decorating the walls. Laying on top a pile of furs, you noticed how surprisingly intact your body still was before noticing the dragon sitting nearby. It’s only when the dragon huffs that you jerk upward and look at the beast.

“Oh….hello again.” You say, trying not to freak the fuck out. The beast is just a mere 20 feet away from you, the tip of his (at least you think its a he) tail just close enough to tilt up your chin. The dragon hums, appraising you, its lips curling into that same intimidating smile.

“You look so cute when you sleep, pet. I was wondering if you would ever wake up.”

Your jaw would’ve dropped if not for the sharp scales pointing it upwards. This is really not what you were expecting.

The tail moves to your cheek and coerces to tilt your head to one side, then the other. The dragon hums again.

“What nice features. I feel awfully lucky to have found you dear, before you had to suffer any more hard labor.”

Hey, it wasn’t that hard.

You rebut in your thoughts, not daring to speak out of turn. The dragon doesn’t seem to be dangerous…not yet.

The tail moves down your chest and to your hands, lifting them up by the wrists but not pulling you uncomfortably. The dragon leans its head closer, its black scales shining like mother-of-pearl in the mushrooms glow. It tsks. “Workers hands, I loathe the fool who callused these hands. Who has you breaking your back, picking those fruits.” The tail reaches up, and pats you on the head, almost like a dog. “But you mustn’t worry, my pet, you won’t have to do that anymore.”

“I-I think there may be a misunderstanding.” You meekly say, almost a whisper. The dragon tilts its head, still amused. “I appreciate your kindness, dragon, but I wasn’t an indentured servant. Those fields were my own, I chose to work in them, and wasn't forced to do anything.” Your shoulders shrug up, trying to appear grateful but embarrassed at the mix up. “So you can take me back, I promise I wasn’t being hurt.”

The dragon looks at you, not saying anything and still having the amused look on his face. You feel sweat bead on the back of your neck, trying to avoid losing eye contact, showing disrespect or weakness. But the tail simply tips up your chin again, the dragon chuckling.

“Oh no my dear pet, I’m afraid you have misunderstood.” The dragon stands up on its paws, circling around the piles of furs yet keeping his tail under your chin. “ I know you weren’t imprisoned, you just didn’t know any better.”

You furrow your brow. That literally explained nothing.

“You will find your accomadations much more suitable for you now, my dear. Now, lets get you cleaned.”

The dragon’s tail nudges you backwards, turning you to see the large cavernous pool of water behind you.

Huh, that's why it’s so humid in here.

The dragons tail moves down to your shoulder, moving with enough finesse to pull down a single strap of your overalls. Your eyes go wide and you find yourself stumbling away.

“I c-can undress myself!” You squeal, before catching the way the dragon’s brow furrows. “I-uhm- thank you. But I can manage.”

The dragon chuckles, retracting his tail.

“Of course dear, I forgot how important clothing was for human propriety. Here,” The dragon sits up again, sitting around the rim of the bath, though facing away. That long tail flops over the side and stirs the bath water, the fragrant steams of lavender and bergamot bath salts wafting across, “I won’t even look.”

You shrug. You think thats about as much privacy as you’re going to get.

—--

To his credit, that bath was amazing. You don’t think you’ve ever been this clean in your entire life, having grown comfortable with a base level of sweat and grime.

Still, did he have to get rid of my clothes?

You’re not sure how he did it, but when you stepped out of the bath all that remained as a silk robe and fluffy slipper for your to wear. No sign of those well-worn overalls. He even had you do a spin as you got out, cooing at the outfit.

“My, my, now don’t you look handsome?”

You rub the back of your neck, not quite sure how to feel. Embarrassed, flattered? The growl from your stomach does the hard part of filling the silence for you.

“Lets get you some food, huh?”

The dragon leads to a different part of the cave, an outcropping with a gigantic dining room table, several blankets and quilts, and a circular bed in the center. Theres a stack of books, paper and pencils by the bed, but what draws your attention is the platter of delicious food on the table. You walk a little too eagerly to the table, the site of a freshly roasted chicken and potatoes tempting you in. When you sit down, you try not to lunge for it. This is the most luxurious food you’ve ever seen, plates of figs and rinds of cheese for you to snack on, alongside various other fruits. You give the dragon a side eye, wondering if you could start.

The dragon nudges your chair, effectively pushing you in, and gestures with its head for you to eat. Trying to keep some sense of propriety, you use the fancy silverware to your right instead of just digging in with bare hands. You even try to take a delicate bite of one of the chicken wings, but find yourself quickly melting under the flavor.

You were right, this is the best food you have ever eaten.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, taking another large bite. The dragon chuckles, laying down its head and just watching you. You swallow and give it a smile. A real one.

“Yes, thank you. I…don’t know what to say.” You take another quick bite of a nearby fig, almost moaning at the sweet taste. “How’d you get all this?”

“I have my ways, sweetling.” The dragon winks.

“Well, good job because this is incredible.”

You eat until your belly’s full, the lingering heat from the bath weighing down your muscles and making you feel drowsy. Sitting back in your chair you hum in content, before looking at the dragon. He still watches you, that pleased smile on his face.

“Uhm, could I ask you your name?” You set aside your plate, brushing imaginary crumbs off your robe. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“My name is Nyryym, dear.”

“Na-rim?” You enunciate, smiling when the dragon nods. “Nice to meet you, my name is ____.”

Nyryym nods, sitting upward so his head lies above the table, looking down at you. “A fitting name for my adorable pet.” He uses his tail to tilt your chin, admiring the way you fluster and blush. Your body responds almost naturally, that drowsiness from before weakening your resolve.

“Yeah, about that-” You swallow, a shaky smile on your face, “What’s the plan? Like, do you want me to do something or…” you gesticulate randomly. You’ve heard of dragons enjoying human talents before, like taking dancers or musicians, artists and poets to keep them entertained. But those were usually carefully curated picks, often from a big city or a royal court. You were just a farmer and while you’d like to think you're witty and charming, you didn’t have any extraordinary talents. “I c-can clean, or cook, maybe-” You look at the big pile of books near your bed, “Read to you?” You’d sometimes read to the children next door, putting on funny voices and such.

Nyryym chuckles again, patting you on the head with his tail.

“That is very sweet of you to offer, pet. You are such a dutiful sweetling. But I do not require you to do anything.” He sweeps his tail around your waist, nudging you to stand up and walk towards him. “Your company shall be delight enough, pet.”

“O-okay.” You nod, eyeing the large bed nearby. Surely he didn’t mean..

Well, you’re not gonna even broach that topic.

“I’m happy to help, Nyryym.”

His smile is less disconcerting than you thought it would be, especially with a mouth full of teeth that could grind your bones into dust. Nyrymm draws you even closer to him, his tail now fully wrapped around your waist. His head leans down dangerously close, enough that you yave to coach yourself not flinch away. Another hot breath of air blows through your hair, when you realize he’s smelling you.

Nyryym lets out a content sigh, rubbing your stomach with the tip of his tail. It almost tickles. After another sniff, he opens his eyes and stares you down.

“That’s a good pet. How about we retire for the night?”

You both look toward the bed, luxuriously plush and practically begging to be slept in. The combination of shock, the bath, the food and a morning full of work beforehand urges you to lie down. Now knowing that Nyryym doesn’t plan to eat you, that urge is even more compelling. So you nod, letting him guide you to the bed.

Laying down in the cotton sheets confirms your suspicions; You’re fucking exhausted. Your body sinks into the cushions, immediately pulling up the blankets to tuck yourself in. Nyrymm curls around the bed, lying his head so it's parallel to yours.

“Good night, my sweet pet.” He says, rubbing your face with his tail one last time.

“Good night, Nyryym.”

The hum of the cave and Nyryym’s heavy breathing, alongside everything else, quickly lulls you to sleep. It might be the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You guess things could be worse.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Headcanon - Drunk Texts from Papa

Primo:

It’s rare he ever gets “drunk texting” drunk so it doesn’t happen often.

His texts are very bluntly horny.

If you’re awake and answering, you’ll get maybe two at most before he gives up and calls.

Immediately asks what you’re wearing.

If he’s away, he’ll make phone sex work for him.

If he’s at the Abbey, he’ll be asking you to meet him in his quarters. Immediately.

Secondo:

Entirely gives up even attempting English. All of his drunk texts are in Italian.

They are pure filth. In a way that only he can make sound sexy.

Attempts to use emojis and, despite using all the wrong ones, manages to get the point across.

You may get an angry Italian rant about an ad that distracted him for some “Italian inspired” fast food midway through getting a string of absolutely obscene suggestions. Just give it 15 minutes and he’ll forget what he was talking about and go back to sexting.

His typing remains pretty consistent despite being entirely drunk.

If he’s away or you’re taking too long to get to his quarters, you will definitely get a dick pic.

Terzo:

You are definitely getting a dick pic. With what looks like influencer grade lighting and staging.

Probably a whole series of pics.

His English goes entirely to shit.

It takes some time, but you do eventually learn to decipher Drunk Terzo.

There will also be excessive emoji use. He knows the right ones. Still manages to be ridiculous.

Gets very lovey on top of being horny. He can multitask like that.

So many pet names and heart emojis.

If he’s away, he WILL be FaceTiming you because sexing when video exists is just silly.

Copia:

You immediately know he’s been drinking because of the half dozen sappiest messages you’ve ever read he sent over the course of about 8 minutes.

They are extremely sweet and sincere.

Tell you he loves you just so many times.

Once you’ve reassured him that you feel the same, there will be some more… suggestive texts.

It’s very hard to take his sexting seriously because he keeps using emojis mid spicy talk. There is just no way to read “I want to (eggplant) your (cat face)” and not start laughing.

There’s an attempt at a dick pic, but he had it set to the front facing camera. You end up getting a blown out picture of half his chin, part of his nose, and one very startled looking eye.

It takes a minute or two before there’s another message and it’s Copia explaining that he temporarily blinded himself.

Nihil:

Only sends a dick pic.

It's terrible.

The worst.

Just burn your phone.

That thing is tainted now.

Maybe bleach your eyes and hands.

My condolences.

[redpool]

So I decided too make a list of every name Sanji & Zeff had for eachother as well as every name Sanji & Zoro had for each other. (In OPLA)

Sanji’s names for Zeff: old shitbag x2, old man x5,

Zeff’s names for Sanji: Little Eggplant x6, good kid, snotty-nosed little brat,

Zoro’s names for Sanji: Waiter x4, the cook,

Sanji’s names for Zoro: mosshead

[raymans-inferno]

May I boop you on the nose, Rayman?

You booped the eggplant!

He doesn’t know how to feel about this

[crabas-lordes]

You don't mind the bared teeth of their permanent grin, even as it twists into something strained. Those black eyes narrow with the only white one, orange pupils flashing into something that would send most running.

Not you. Never you.

You've dealt with Eclipse enough for so long that you know when it's safe to run or not. And now is not the time.

Eclipse dangerously dips his head, nearly silhouetting that minacious gaze and grin. The sharp, ray-like horns are always so beautiful crowning him in this light, but you keep your eyes on theirs. You don't blink, you don't step back. Your mouth twitches, and you hold your swallow. You're not foolish, however. You know he senses how your insides tighten and shake as their imposing form leans toward you.

He's a predator ready to pounce, and you've always been the prey biding the time to escape.

His mouth finally parts, and his words roll with a hiss of his native tongue. "You're so quick to side with them and judge me when you don't know the whole picture yourself, umbra. Shall I paint it for you, or is your opinion already set?" Something inside their mouth sharply clicks and clatters.

You don't relent with your own special glare. You let your eyes cascade down Eclipse's hunched and obviously tensed form. An exhale releases from your nose as you see his eggplant-purple cloak swish around his legs. Looking at him now brings a tingling pang through your chest at the thought of Sun and Moon.

You love them both.

And it hurts because...

You've taken a liking to him.

"Alright," you give in quietly. You're nice enough to speak his tongue. "I'll listen."

You lift your shoulders and ball your hands into fists. You can feel how warm and clammy your palms are through your fingerless gloves. Your brow twitches, and you finally lift your head. All you can see is the black shadowing Eclipse's face, brightening pupils sizing up your bite-sized frame. Fitting of their namesake. Their smile has thinned so much it's almost just a line, but the shine of those daggers still catches your eye.

Oh, but life preservation be damned. Having a lack of it got you this far.

You intently point, hardening your glare. You don't care how much your hand shakes, you're being plenty nice enough. And it's only because you've dealt with Cannibals for all your space life.

"So, justify eating your crew then."

—

Some things may be different in the actual fic, but! Another concept thing where your good ol' friends Sun and Moon tell you the truth of their past, and it makes you confront your other dear ol' friend about it :)

Eclipse and the Beings Made of Stardust AU belongs to @maudiemoods

The MC is gender neutral, but how I drew them is how I personally imagine them.

(AH I also forgot the wispy back part of Eclipse's head in the first panel, but it's fine lol)

[aurumacadicus]

#160

"Bruce," Steve gasped, bursting into his lab.

Bruce jumped, hard, both his feet leaving the ground as he spun to face him. There was a green tinge around his eyes and nose for a moment. His chest heaved from the fright, and the more understanding that filled Bruce's face, the more frustration joined it. He didn't normally have to warn people not to freak him out more than once after they learned about the Hulk, after all.

Steve took a moment to feel sorry, because he really hadn't meant to startle him. Then he charged onward, taking a step further into the lab. "Bruce, please tell me how I fucked up."

"...Besides the obvious?" Bruce asked, waving a hand back and forth between them.

Steve thrust his phone out at him. "Please. He sent me a frown and I don't know what I did wrong."

Bruce's eyes crossed as Steve shoved the screen closer to his face. "...You responded to a text simply consisting of an eggplant and a donut with 'no, thank you?'" He looked up at Steve, unable to help a frown of his own. "You know what the eggplant is supposed to signify, right?"

Steve hesitated. But then, Bruce didn't look flustered, so. "A dick?"

"Okay, so you got that part right," Bruce offered after a surprised pause.

"The donut threw me off. I've never seen the donut before," Steve admitted. He paused, then corrected, "I've never seen it with the eggplant. He usually texts me that one while I'm on my morning runs to get donuts on my way home."

"Maybe he sent the donut by mistake," Bruce offered.

Steve looked at his phone screen and sighed, brows furrowing together. "I know Tony makes fun of me for typing things up, but at least it doesn't leave room for miscommunication like emoji." Bruce grimaced, and Steve caught it before he could school his face back. He huffed, feeling a little embarrassed. "What?"

"Text communication has its own hurdles," Bruce began. He said it very diplomatically. It was the same tone he'd used in previous situations when Steve had unknowingly put his foot in it, and he felt like the guillotine was about to come down on him. "Tony asked what you liked in a date and you said you really liked the ones Natasha had brought you with the goat cheese and the bacon."

"That's because I couldn't believe he was asking me out via text," Steve exclaimed defensively.

Bruce blinked at him, unimpressed. "That's because you weren't getting the hint when he asked you out in person, Steve."

"HUH," Steve bellowed.

Bruce's phone pinged before he could continue. He pulled his phone out as if Steve did not fully intend to interrogate him about his apparent previous obliviousness. "I hate it here," he sighed.

Steve snatched the phone out of his hand. It was from Tony.

Who says no to sex and donuts?! 😠

"Fucking infuriating," Steve said, then turned to storm upstairs. "Don't bother us for like twelve hours."

"Give me back my phone," Bruce barked, and Steve wasn't stupid enough to try him, so he scuttled back to hand it over to him.

[sailing-ever-west]

"Safe"

A fic snippet for an AU in which the Vinsmokes find out kid Sanji is working at a restaurant and re-kidnap him so he's no longer "staining their name," and Zeff has a conniption and sails all the way to the North Blue to rescue him. Scene is when Zeff gets there and sneaks in.

-----

The deeper Zeff goes into the dungeon, the hotter his blood boils at even the thought of the little eggplant being kept down here. It's cold enough to make a grown man shiver, let alone a scrawny little kid, and most of all it's dark, so dark.

Sanji hates the dark like it hurt him personally. If this place is any indication, Zeff supposes it has.

There are guards chattering to themselves around the next corner. Zeff could sneak around or wait for them to leave, but he doesn't want to. Truthfully he's itching to kick someone's face in, and anyone even slightly responsible for locking his kid in a dungeon will do just fine.

His kid.

The thought comes a little too naturally. Or maybe just as naturally as it should.

Doesn't matter.

He stomps around the corner to face the guards, who look up from their conversation and immediately draw their weapons.

“Hey, who are you, old man?” the taller one demands, pointing his spear at him. “You're not supposed to be down here.”

Just spears? Tch, easy. 

He knocks the weapons clean out of their hands with one swipe of his wooden leg, then whacks them in the head with the other one. They fall to the floor with bloody noses and quickly lose consciousness.

Hmph. Not very satisfying.

He checks their belts, and sure enough, one has a ring of keys. He snatches it up, then steps over their bodies and into the corridor they guarded. Sanji must be here somewhere, but it's so quiet. He hates it when the kid is quiet.

“Eggplant?” he calls out as he makes his way toward the back. “Are you in here, kid? Talk to me.”

Silence, and then a sound of shuffling and chains rattling.

“Zeff?” the voice calls weakly, and the sound alone nearly breaks his heart without warning.

“Yeah, kid, I'm here.” 

Zeff rushes over to where it came from, wooden leg thumping loudly against the stone floor. He doesn't stop until he's near the end of the hall and finally catches sight of a pale little body behind thick iron bars, still in his chef's uniform, though it's tattered and stained.

The kid is shackled around his wrists and ankles, and so thin Zeff is surprised they even stay on. But the part he really didn't expect, that makes a pit open in his stomach, is the helmet. It covers Sanji's whole face except his eyes, one of which is black and swollen, and the other wide and afraid behind a curtain of blood-streaked blond hair. He can tell by the way his shoulders slump that the object is too heavy for his head. What could even be the point of that thing besides tormenting him? Zeff feels sick.

“I'm gonna get you outta there, little Eggplant, just hang on,” he says, and starts trying keys until one fits in the lock on the cell door. He twists it forcefully and pries the bars open, then takes it out and hopes the other keys are for the shackles.

Sanji is visibly shaking, staring at him in shock, and he can see tears forming in his eyes. It makes Zeff's start to water, too, but he doesn't dare acknowledge it.

He puts a hand on Sanji's bony shoulder and rubs it firmly to ground him.

The kid leans into it and then starts sobbing.

“Hey, hey, it's alright,” Zeff tells him. 

He gets out the second key on the ring and starts to free his hands. Trial and error. That one doesn't fit, but the other key does. 

A muffled, quiet voice comes from the helmet amidst sobs.

“What's that, kid?”

Sanji sniffles, and his eyes are huge as he meets Zeff's. 

“Y-you…” he starts. “You came to get me. You came all the way to the North Blue. For me. I don't understand.”

Zeff doesn't know what to say. He's afraid if something comes out of his mouth it'll be far too vulnerable for either of them, and this situation is delicate enough as it is. Does the kid really think that after losing a leg for him he'd just abandon him to his fate at the next sign of trouble?

“Well, you know,” he says as he slides the handcuffs off, attempted nonchalance a bit ruined by the fact that he's nearly crying, “Can't run a proper restaurant without my sous chef.”

Sanji reaches out to him with raw, bruised wrists and clutches onto his sleeve, sobbing even louder.

Zeff rubs his back in steady circles.

“Shh, ‘s fine. Let's get your legs free and get that nasty bucket off your head, alright?”

“M'kay.”

Taking off the shackles reveals a badly swollen ankle, and Zeff worries it's broken. It wouldn't be surprising considering the bruises covering the kid's whole body, filling Zeff with an urge to kill he hasn't felt since his pirate days. Poor kid must have shown them he knows how to kick now. He'll have to check on that as soon as they're out of this forsaken place.

The helmet is a bit trickier. It opens in the back, and the lock is tight and at a strangle angle, clearly designed so that the wearer can't undo it themselves. Sanji goes rigid for a moment with Zeff's hands behind his head working on it, but finally it does come off, revealing a face even more bruised and bloody than his body. 

“Oh, kid,” Zeff mutters. “You're--”

He's interrupted by the impact of Sanji fully launching himself around him and holding on like he'd drown if he didn't. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” he murmurs incessantly into his shoulder.

Zeff pauses for a moment, and then melts with heartache and relief. Crap, he was worried about this kid. He holds Sanji against himself and cradles his head, ruffling the messy blond hair formerly trapped beneath an iron dome.

“Nothin’ to thank me for,” Zeff insists. “Just lookin’ after my own.”

Sanji cries harder at that, and Zeff isn't really sure what to do, so he puts his other arm under his legs and slowly scoops him up to carry.

He's grateful, at least, that when the tears finally stream from his own eyes, Sanji has his face too buried to see it.

“Let's get you home, little Eggplant,” he says, and for once he's confident he chose the right words.

He already knew he would die for this kid. He had that figured out the day they met. It felt like psychosis to him then, some strange spirit taking over his mind and making him do crazy things like give away all his food with no real plan for how to survive more than a week. But now it's more right than anything else he knows. Of course he would die for this kid. He would kill for this kid. And he knows now, most importantly, that he's going to live for him. 

[octuscle]

I've always been a well put together scrawny guy. Never really got along with other guys who were more masculine. I'm eager to see what's on the other end of life. A bear, hairy, with a big belly and a deep belly button. Can fart among other men openly, freely, and, most of all, proudly. The kind of guy who can fix a car with one hand while the other hand is scratching my belly button or drifting the stench of my farts up to my nose. I want to be as filthy of a man as can be, and I want to be proud of it!

As they say in an old Hollywood movie, life is like a box of chocolates… Do you like chocolates? Here's a box.

The chocolates are made of very dark chocolate. They smell of wood, leather and tobacco. Masculine. The first one has rings as a symbol and melts in your mouth. It tastes of whiskey. Very tasty. As the saying goes. A moment on your lips, a lifetime on your hips. You can feel your belly growing a little. And the piercings in your nipples feel great.

You can't really tell what's on the next chocolate… An eggplant? Maybe. It tastes… Musky? Your boner is growing in your pants as your belly swells over the waistband. Your foreskin grows back. You run your hand down your pants. Yes, that's good. You smear the precum. With your other hand, you take another chocolate.

It's a bear or something… Also filled with alcohol. But something different, tastes like beer. You have to burp. Your shirt stretches across your stomach and chest. You're growing fur. Everywhere. That was really tasty, you need another one of those. Hehehe, the burp was even better. Phew, how it stinks. Male! You have to take your shirt off before you tear it to pieces. You pull your hand out of your pants, the waistband is getting too tight. You smell your hand. Sweat and musk, sticky from the precum. You rub it clean on your hairy chest and then unbutton your pants. Your cock pops out like a jack-in-the-box.

There's another animal head on the next praline. Could be a bull. Your belly doesn't just swell, it bloats…. Brffffffffft! Phew, you can still put up with your own farts. And here comes another one. You take a deep breath. Yes, that's what a really good fart must smell like. You rub the bulge in your leather pants… It feels great. And the leather can tame a bit of your farts if necessary. If you want…

You haven't tried any of those yet. They have a geometric pattern on them. Your pecs have become man boobs. Big, powerful but soft. And decorated with tattoos that look like you've had them for decades. You get another one with an eggplant on it. Your balls and cock swell up. Your cock is rock hard. Shit, you have to cum. Your cum flies all the way into your beard. A deep puddle forms in your belly button. You rub it all into your fur with your calloused hands.

You've never had one with a wheel like this before. It tastes of oil. Kind of disgusting. And somehow hot. You put your heavy motorcycle boots down on the coffee table and adjust your muir cap. Shit, chocolate pralines don't really fit in your motorcycle workshop. But they do taste good. You have to fart again. And burp immediately afterwards. You hope no customers come in now.

The appetite comes with eating. You take two with a bear on them at once. The leather sofa groans under your weight. The muir cap feels great on your bare skull. The remains of your tobacco still cling to your mighty beard. Yes, you actually feel more like a good portion of Copenhagen or a cigar than a chocolate. But there are only two left anyway. One with a ring on it and one with a bull.

Shit, you can feel a hurricane brewing in your guts. You rub your belly and your tits. Your huge piercings in your nipples and glans are impressive. The leather strap stretches across your upper arm. One of your boys comes into your office and wants to ask you about the Fatboy that's due to be finished this afternoon. This is the moment you've been waiting for. Brbrbrbrbrffffffft! Shit, a bison would be proud. You take a deep breath. Your coworker turns pale. "Get used to it, boy!" you growl.

To apologize, you have given your employee an extra-large box of chocolates. He is to share it with the other boys. His questions are all answered. Now you need a midday nap. Your boys know that. For the next half hour, all they'll hear is snoring and farting coming from your office.

Pic found @musclefetish77

[copias-girl]

The Papas vs Technology Headcanons

Ask and you shall receive! @ivyanddaisies

Prompt here

Primo

Ok Peepaw has no use for social media or technology. He’s still marvelling at his vintage tube tv, because he’s old and he was around before the tv <3 And he’d literally rather send a raven with a message rather than text. You pushed him to give it a shot, and being the sweet elder goth that he is, he gave it the good old college try just for you. Alas, he grew frustrated easily. He kept having to whip out the reading glasses to read what was on the screen, and he couldn’t tell if that vibrating in his pocket was the iPhone or if he was having a seizure. Not to mention, he accidentally activated Siri on several occasions and he thought the spirit of a demon was speaking to him and apparently telling him the weather forecast. The only thing he really found a use for was the gardening stuff on Pinterest, but he has plenty of books in the library for that anyway. And as for nudes? He has a Polaroid camera for that. Our sweet old man much prefers the feeling of answering calls on his candlestick phone, and he’ll gladly leave the selfie-taking to you ♥︎

Secondo

Alright, Mr. Worldwide tries to be hip and cool, so he definitely owns the latest iPhone. However, he’s had to replace it several times because when he gets frustrated, that thing goes flying across the room. He tried to use the voice dictation one time and his entire text came out hilariously wrong so he threw his phone out of one of the ministry windows. He texts with one finger like an old man, never uses emojis (he calls them hieroglyphics), and he keeps telling you that he wants to “duck your brains out”. He genuinely tries to take selfies, and that can be hit or miss. Sometimes it’s a typical old man selfie where you can see all the way up his nose, but he did execute this fantastic shirtless selfie one time,,, Bone Daddy starts an Instagram where he makes a few adorably lame posts trying to be edgy and dark. But he mainly uses that to post selfies (ones you’ve taken of the both of you) to show you off. He loves when you send him dirty pictures and he’s also found that FaceTime is perfect for some,,, fun activities 👀

Terzo

Oh my god, the biggest social media whore. He’s only two months younger than Secondo, but he’s somehow overcome his oldness and mastered the art of the iPhone. He has an Instagram, where he posts pictures of the two of you on dates or in bed together covered in rose petals and lip prints. Dude even has Snapchat, where he updates his story with some chaotic videos every now and then. He can text with his thumbs, but he does make some really hilarious typos which are exceptionally frustrating when he’s trying to sext with you (this man demands nudes from you constantly). He actually knows what most emojis mean- he will literally text you the eggplant emoji next to everything 🍆- and only has to ask for your help to decipher some of them. He rubs it in his brothers’ faces as much as he can, calling them old men because they don’t know how to use tech as well as he does. And Secondo finds his use of emojis really irritating because he has no idea what the fuck ‘🤪😝🙃🫠🥴🙄🥸💀’ means

Copia

Oh, Copia. Sweet pitiful Copia. He tries, he really does, but this man has no idea how to use emojis. He types with one finger, makes plenty of typos, and always uses the rat emoji for no apparent reason. Also, he disperses emojis into sentences so his texts always read like this:

Ciao 👋🏻🐀 bella 😚 I am going 🔜 to feed 🧀 my rats 🐀 want to come 😀 with me?🤝🏻

He’s such a dork and you never ever correct him because it’s just too charming. His selfies are often painfully awkward, because he thinks that just staring dead-eyed into the camera and snapping the picture constitutes as a selfie. And he’ll post those on Insta too, sometimes with captions that he got off Pinterest. Or sometimes the captions will be about rats for literally no reason. However, he does make awfully sweet posts about you that have your heart melting when you read them. This sweet man LOVES when you send him naughty pictures and rile him up via text. It gives him a thrill and makes him feel so special. Copia also surprisingly uses Pinterest occasionally, because he finds it relaxing. He’s such a gentle soul, and he enjoys saving things about pet rats, aesthetic things that he’d like to show you later, or even some recipes that the two of you could cook together. However, he doesn’t use Pinterest correctly. He doesn’t pin things, he just screenshots them (because you taught him how to take a screenshot). So even though he isn’t the most religious social media user or the best at working technology, he tries and has a good time ♥︎