#get ready for the tag dump

[cecilxa]

dress up, darling!

summary: hallowe’en is a festive time of the year, so why not participate? (what the different genshin guys would dress up for hallowe’en + scenarios)

pairings: cyno, thoma, venti, tighnari, ayato and zhongli

contents: established relationships in all scenarios, fluff, humour, slightly angsty in zhongli's part, gn!reader

cw: general alcohol consumption + drunken-ness in venti's part, talks about death + grief + loss in zhongli's part, mentions of kidnapping in ayato's

a/n: somthing very different to what i would normally do! had a lot of fun envisioning the outifts they would have on :) oh yeah, before i forget, has nothing to do with the manga/ anime if you're wondering with the title

wc: 3.6k

cyno— lupus aureus  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Seeing the (usually) stoic General Mahamatra pouting with a faint blush on his cheeks is a rare sight. So rare, in fact, that you just had to snap a quick picture. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) the Kamera you were using was quite loud, alerting Cyno of your deeds. He sighs- albeit fondly- and his blush intensifies even further. There’s really no way of putting it lightly, but getting to see Cyno dressed up in a werewolf costume is extremely amusing. 

His usual headdress is now topped off with some thick grey (fake) wolf fur, which cascades down his face, covering some of his white hair. Accompanying his new ears, Cyno now dons a very large, very comical pair of claws, made out of the same kind of fur. The nails on his claws are exaggeratingly sharp, which reminds you of a poorly trimmed bear, rather than a ferocious man-wolf. Cyno, still being Cyno, insisted that he keep his polearm with him, so now your already adorable werewolf is carrying his polearm with him, which he denies is hard to carry around with the claws on his hands (the concentration on his face tells another story). 

You ask him why he even needs it when you’re just going trick or treating around Aaru Village, and he replies as seriously as ever, blush disappearing.

“You never know where danger lurks. I need to protect you, to make sure you don’t get hurt.” 

Well, you weren’t going to deny any type of reasoning from your ever-loving partner, were you? Especially ones that had your heart racing at speeds so fast, even he probably wouldn’t even be able to reach it. You smile at him, eyes twinkling, and laugh. 

“There’s no point in protecting me if there’s nothing to protect me from! Let’s head out into the dangers of young children searching for candy, my sweet yet brooding werewolf!” 

Cyno grumbles at the subtle mockery of your last words, yet can’t deny the soft thumping of his heart whenever you call him yours. Maybe this foolish costume is alright, if the silly fur and claws brightens up your night just a little bit.

thoma— rubeum scutum ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Boo!” 

A pair of hands cover your eyes, as your assailant pulls you closer towards them. 

“Guess who it is?” 

If the cheery voice didn’t give it away, then the attempted kiss on your cheek definitely did. However, you didn’t want to end the game early, so instead of guessing correctly, you decided to have a little bit of fun. It is the season of tricks, after all. 

“Hmm… the mysterious and handsome Ayato? Ooh- oh the elegant and poised Ayaka!” 

The hands turn you around, and your assailant throws off the white cotton sheet. Replacing the costume’s two black eyes and black smile, is a very handsome Thoma, who is currently very much pouting at the very wrong answers you had given. 

“Babe…” 

You can’t help but melt inside at your boyfriend’s antics, who’s acting very cute and almost impossible to resist. You pat his cheek and smile.

“Aw, I knew it was you, Thoma. I was just messing with you.” 

Now knowing that you thought to have upset him, his previous pout turns into a devious smirk as you continue to smile at him obliviously. When you finally catch on, it’s too late. He’s already starting to tickle your sides, grinning at your laughter (or pain, however you want to put it). Your breaths come out in short pants, trying to pry the blonde off of your body. This effort comes to no avail, though, as he then begins to sprinkle in some kisses along with his tickles. One on your forehead, one on your cheek, one on your neck, one on your shoulder, he laughs along with you. Dotted in very carefully, almost like a dance, there’s one place his lips never come into contact with. 

The moment tears begin coming out of your eyes, Thoma’s hands immediately recede, as he leaves you to rest on the ground alongside his body. Even though his hands may have stopped tickling you, his touches never leave, as he continues to pepper your face with a multitude of butterfly kisses, gentle as the breeze from his homeland. His eyes soften, as he lets himself indulge in your presence. Thoma likes admiring you, and thinks that he’s the luckiest person in Teyvat to have ended up with someone so angelic.

When you finally calm down and regain your breath, his arms have left you, and what now stands in front of you is a ghost, unusually shaped, and not at all what the Inazuman tales describe them as. You narrow your eyes playfully and ask the mysterious creature an important question. 

“Who are you, again?”

The ghost doesn’t respond, but instead pulls you up, under its blanket. Thoma’s eyes sparkle under the sheet of white, sunlight peeking in through the cotton. He leans forward ever so closely, your lips nearly touching, breaths intermingling, as he finally gives you an answer. A ghost can be just as playful, with a heart that beats to the sound of a lover’s laugh.

venti— carmen dei ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

A clown. Venti is a clown, both literally and figuratively. His hair has been dyed, or, more possibly, stained, bright red, and the same thing has happened to his lips. His complexion is also much paler than his usual skin tone, and he’s moving so irrationally you think he’s got invisible clown shoes on. What’s most prominent about the whole look is the unmistakeable stench of pure alcohol wafting off of his body. It comes off in waves, sometimes subtle, sometimes harsh and intense. Obviously, his ‘quick trip’ to the Angel’s Share took a turn, and now he’s black out drunk. 

One of his arms is lifted onto your shoulder, as the rest of his body slumps down to the ground. You’re trying to hold up his weight, while he’s doing whatever the motion of hobbling and then randomly stopping at inopportune times to throw up is. Adding to your struggle, guess what? Venti’s an affectionate drunk. In this case, too affectionate for his own good. While you’re trying your very hardest to get him home, he’s trying his very hardest to accost you. Sloppy kisses all over the left side of your face, his arms wrapping around you so tightly, it’s as if he’s turned into a sloth. 

“Venti… please get off of me. I can’t take you home with you clinging onto my neck.” 

Hoping that he’d hear the tiredness in your voice, you say this with as much deadpan as you can muster. But of course he doesn’t, and he instead holds you even closer, almost shouting at this point. 

“But I love you so much~ How can I accept your request when all I want to do is cuddle you forever!~” 

This is promptly followed by a series of hics and burps, which ultimately cancel out the- usually- romantic phrases. 

When you finally get home, way after you hear the clock strike one, you place (more like dump) him on your sofa, and rush over to the sink to get him a glass of water. He- thank the archons- drinks it without fuss, and you start heading up to go to the bedroom to get a couple of blankets, when a pair of arms pull you down onto the sofa. The pillows are soft, and it being so early in the morning, exhaustion doesn’t take long to root in your brain, making you sleepy. 

How warm Venti feels doesn’t help your situation, either. He doesn’t lay off on his affections, gazing at you as if you had created all of the stars in the sky. Grinning happily, he smooches you on both of your cheeks, making a very loud sound as he does so. Cheerily laughing out loud, in his drunken stupor, he doesn’t hesitate to proclaim the endless well of love he has for you, and even offers to sing you a song. 

“Baby, you’re so cute! I want to eat you up like those drinks at the Angel’s Share!~” 

You’re too tired to even comment on how you can’t eat drinks, and how his lyrics are much less poetic than usual. You just want to lay in his arms and sleep for an eternity. Patting his cheeks and mumbling a few small praises about his improvised ballad, you promptly succumb to your exhaustion, and fall asleep. Venti, however, perks up at your praise, and his grin turns up impossibly wider at the positive remarks. 

“Aw, baby, I love you too!” 

He hasn’t even noticed you had fallen asleep, but when he gets a lack of response, he sobers up a little (he still has to take care of you), and shuffles a little bit to get you more comfortable. You mustn’t wake up feeling uncomfortable, that would never do!

Grin softening, all he does is stroke your hair gently for a few minutes, basking in your presence. Trying not to disturb your sleep, he allows himself only a few words before heading off for dreamland himself. 

“I may look and act like a clown, but at least I’m yours.”

tighnari— vulpes zerda ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Tighnari stares at you with a straight face. It’s leaning towards a glare, but you know he would never actually be mad at you… right? To be fair, dressing up in his old uniform might not have been your brightest idea, but it certainly was one of the funniest. To see your beloved donning the regulated green pattern, a symbol of the Amurta Darshan, brightened up your day significantly. 

It’s not a surprise that Tighnari fees disdain for certain members of the Akademiya, and by wearing the very same clothing they were wearing, it served as an act of rebellion and distrust. At least, that’s what he’s trying to convince himself of, your smirk not helping matters at all. In fact, you just wanted to see him as what he looked like when he was younger, still a scholar of the Akademiya. It’s very jarring, his usual garments strewn all over your shared bed, instead, replaced by a very simple robe of green, gold and white. 

For all his complaining, you can’t help but notice the twitch of his ears when you remark at how cute he looks in this piece of clothing, and how you wished you had met him when he was younger. Tighnari’s eyebrows furrow, and he takes a breath, starting to lecture you on how there would be no possible way you would’ve met, because there would be no possible way you would’ve been smart enough to get in. 

A gasp of betrayal leaves you, as his eyes sparkle in mirth, tail swishing in amusement. His hand lays on your forehead, almost as if to cradle it, but then he flicks you (although not too harshly) instead. 

“You lummox, I’m joking.”

 A pause. “Well, that’s good because-”

“I’d have no time for you.” 

At these words, you shoot him a harsh glare, tongue poking out of your mouth as the corners of his mouth slowly start to turn up. 

You’re about to start on your retorts when Collei’s voice interrupts your would-be (loving) argument. 

“Master! The kids are already here and they’re getting impatient!” 

Tighnari replies to her, while gently rubbing the spot where he had previously flicked your forehead. 

“Alright, Collei, tell them I’ll be there in a few moments. Remember to take your medicine later.” 

You hear footsteps receding, which you can assume is Collei leaving for the main area of Gandharva Ville. 

After a few seconds, you feel an arm curl around your shoulder, gently pressing you against Tighnari’s body, contrasting the teasing nature of his earlier actions. You reach up to interlock a hand with his, and he smiles, relishing in this domestic feeling. 

“Well then, if you’re so smart, help me with these candies.” 

You gladly respond, and grab a handmade basket filled to the brim with all sorts of sweet treats and goodies, destined to give any parent a headache from all the cavities their children would subsequently get. Tighnari carries another one with his spare hand, heading outside with you next to him, arm still cradled around your shoulder, and hands still interlocked as tightly as ever. Blinded by love, he’s even forgotten about his Akademiya uniform.

ayato— cypressus custos ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You can’t help but slightly drool at the sight of Ayato in a vampire costume. Never in a million years would you have thought red, black and gold would’ve suited him this well. You can’t even call it a costume at this point, fitting him so well, and the quality of the fabric so high, that if you hadn’t known him, anybody would’ve thought that this was an outfit meant for a prestigious event, for only the richest of the rich. 

A blood red waistcoat adorned with (probably real) gold buttons had been fitted to his exact measurements, and you could clearly see the outline of his waist. Contrasting the extravagant waistcoat, a simple white shirt was layered underneath, and attached to his neck was a billowing black cape. He also wore plain black trousers (fitted, of course), and luxury shoes that you were sure he wasn’t supposed to be wearing on a walk through the woods. Scratch that, anything he was wearing probably wasn’t meant to be worn on a walk through the woods, for fear that they would stain or tear. 

The very last thing- that Ayato insisted on himself- was two sharp fangs attached to his top canines. It made the whole thing ‘more immersive’. To be fair, walking through Chinju Forest at night, with the blue flowers illuminating your path, and the moonlight streaming through the tree’s canopy would’ve been extremely romantic, if only for the fear that Ayato was actually going to bite you. ‘Immersive’ indeed. 

Earlier that day, he had been getting very excited on dressing up as a vampire, and even offered to give you a mark on your neck to make you seem like his victim, which you profusely declined with a red flush all across your face, as you were in public, right in front of all of his retainers. 

He had seemed a little disappointed at your refusal, and for the whole walk to Chinju Forest, you could feel his stare on your neck. It’s a little disconcerting, considering his wily nature, and you can’t help but think that he’s got something up his sleeve to finally achieve his goal. However, you reason to yourself, that him trying to trick you into letting him mark your neck was not the point of this date, and instead enjoying each others company was. With this newfound logic, you were determined to have some time alone and relax, being one of the only days off that he would get in a long time. 

Lost in your thoughts, a hand comes up to interlock with yours, and you feel it being lifted up to a set of plush lips. A deceivingly charming smile makes its way onto Ayato’s face, and he chuckles, eyes sparkling. 

“My love, don’t fret. I’m not planning on harming you in any way. That would be the last thing on my mind, after all.” 

You narrow your eyes at his words, used to his tricks, but acknowledge that he would never do anything to actively hurt you. Quite the opposite actually; you still hadn’t heard a single word of those people who had tried to kidnap you last year after Ayato had ‘dealt with them’. Shelving your suspicions to the back of your mind, you allow yourself to smile back at him, looking forward to the night ahead. 

After around an hour of ambling and admiring the peaceful scenery, your legs are getting a little tired, and you’re feeling a little chilly. The wind nips at your bare arms, and you struggle to contain the shivers that come along with the cold. Still holding hands, Ayato can feel you getting slightly shakier, and he sighs fondly. 

“Love, I did tell you to bring a spare jacket, just in case you got cold. I don’t care about whether it matches with your outfit or not; you’re still as captivating as the day I met you.” 

He proceeds to unclasp his cape from his dress shirt, and attaches it to you instead. It softly billows in the wind, but the plush fabric covers you enough so that you don’t get too cold from the cool breeze. This leaves Ayato in his waistcoat, and shirt, frilly cuffs out for all to see. Seeking some other kind of warmth, his arms encircle your waist, as his head rests on your shoulder. The long walk has tired him out as well- even though he may not want to admit it- evidenced by his droopy eyes. 

To further prove this, he nestles his face into your neck, his hair slightly tickling your shoulders. You can feel a sleepy smile emerging on his face, as he subtly kisses your neck. It’s soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the enthusiasm of his past attempts, lips barely brushing your skin. 

Multiple kisses later, Ayato’s still not given up on peppering your neck with his lips, and it doesn’t seem like he will in a long time. He mumbles sweet nothings between kisses, which leave you melting on the inside. With his dopey smile, and his gentle eyes, this is a whole new side of him you rarely get to see. It’s a pleasant feeling, however, and you’re not complaining. You’ll let the suave and sneaky vampire get his way today. He’s not out for blood, but for a love as sweet as candy.

zhongli— lapis dei ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

It’s no secret that Zhongli boasts a wide variety of random trivia and knowledge, ranging from herbal teas to precious gems. What is a secret- to most people- is that he also possesses the ability to transform into a dragon on command. Well, more like the ability to hide his true dragon form, and appear as a day-to-day human. 

On special occasions, however, the Geo Archon likes to humour you, and let some of his human attributes fade away, leaving him with his draconic ones instead. Hallowe’en is one of those occasions wherein most people (not knowing about his secret identity) would’ve marvelled at how realistic his ‘costume’ was. 

A thin, scaly, brown tail that twitched every time you kissed him on the cheek; two golden horns made out of the same substance as his tail, and subtle yellow Geo tattoos adorning his arms and chest. He could’ve gone further, but with how many children were constantly pulling on his tail as they walked by somewhat annoyed him. 

He’s distracted from the children by you laughing at the expression on his face, amused by the clear frown of his eyebrows and slight downturn of his lips. You would even haphazard a guess as to say that the Geo Archon, Morax, was pouting. He’s never usually been this expressive, more often sticking to a perfectly neutral smile. Perhaps letting loose of his façade helped him with expressing his emotions more freely. 

The fires in his eyes simmer down as soon as he looks at your figure, as he contentedly smiles, past encounters of the children disappearing from his memories as fast as an avalanche, replaced by thoughts of you. It’s already been a few years since you’d started dating- or courting as he likes to put it- but Zhongli feels like he’s still stuck in the honeymoon stage. Every laugh, every twinkle in your eye, every butterfly that you give him never fails to help him fall even further. 

For someone who’s lived for over 2000 years, Zhongli wants nothing but to spend even more time with you, which is both a blessing and a curse. You’re a mortal; he’s a god; death is inevitable. Seasons change, and the tides turn; yet he stays as still as a rock, unmoving and everlasting. Grief is not unfamiliar to him; how many people has he seen be slain and destroyed? It’s too many to count. 

Too many become the norm for Zhongli, but he can’t deny the strain of his heart when he thinks about your timely demise. He can’t deny the fact that he’ll miss you; that he’ll never get to feel your body against his, never getting to see your oh-so-lovely smile, and that he’ll never get to say I love you ever again. Because you’ll be gone, but Zhongli will remain, immovable as a mountain of sturdy rock. 

For someone who’s lived for as long as he has, he knows that the sadness will subdue; that the initial grief will pass over as he carries on with his duties. But he also knows that it may never go away. The longing that he will feel; the sorrow that will inevitably fill him up; the pain- when it comes to you- will never truly dissipate. It’s as much of a part of Zhongli as his own, wandering mind. 

But when these thoughts take over, he’s reminded of you, again. You, who starts them, and you, who ends them. It’s taken a long time to reach this conclusion, but it’s not been for naught. Because as inevitable and final as death is, Zhongli still has the present to give to you. Time may not be on his side, but he can try to fill your life with as few regrets as possible, and as much happiness as there can be, because what else is the goal of a dedicated and immortal lover to live by their everything until their deathbed? 

So when he has to tolerate some children tugging on his scaly tail on a dreary Hallowe’en day, if to see that smile on your face, he thinks that it’s worth it. There’s no time like the present, as the youngsters say, and Zhongli can’t help but think that they were right all along.

a/n: if you’ve come all the way to the end, tysm for reading :DD i really hoped you enjoyed! this was very different compared to what i’d usually write, different layouts too, i might continue doing multi character for big events, we’ll just have to see :)) likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 🧡🧡

[todayisafridaynight]

Sohei 🤝 Kazama: Bad dads

who even IS a good dad in this series like who even is a dad that we can all look at and go 'now THATS a good dad right there'

[meatballowl]

My first post back from deleting my whole account and it isn’t even MINECRAFT RELATED? Shame…

[miscellaneous--bones]

mostly papyrus, with a couple of other lil dudes of undyne and sans <3

[shadowglens]

i spent like an hour looking at jdm’s instagram, and seeing all the photos of him and his kids is making me wanna give sage & negan a kid together

[i-mode]

OH SHIT I FINALLY GOT UNSHADOWBANNED

[avid-reader12]

As someone who can relate heavily with Wyatt, I kinda wish they had made that conversation him and Judd had longer.

And as someone who can relate heavily with Wyatt I kinda wish it wasn’t in there at all.

[wormwoof]

it is stupid how many situations i put these guys in. quickie refs of my main aus, and also a doodle of them as carebear friends for funzies.

[dillyt]

Love how my family just decides we're going somewhere today even though I feel like shit today and of course they want to go to Walmart which I hate too and already forced myself to go to with no sleep yesterday to get stuff I needed to feel less like shit but ofc as soon as I start feeling better from whatever else was wrong with me my fucking period starts and I'm in so much pain and I'm straight up fucking nauseous but everyone else here decided we're going places today without me so fuck how I feel I guess. Oh and I probably am going to have to pay for everything today too because my mom refuses to get her debit card fixed and everywhere will only take chip and doesn't even let you use the strip on the back like why do cards even have that anymore if you can't fucking use it GRAHHHHH!!!!!!

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji with a nympho reader. includes three hc's & eac accompanied w little drabbles.

word count. 940

note. uhm, part 2 of this, i think. based on an anon request.

tags. dom!toji fushiguro x nympho!female reader. smut \\ mdni. dirty talk, p in v -> unprotected, hair pulling, degredation (reader gets called dumb, nasty), teasing, oral; m. receiving, exhibitionism kinda, lots of cum (and creampies), daddy kink once, toji takes pictures / videos, reader gets called 'doll, princess, pretty, cute.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 knows you can’t keep your hands to yourself. no matter where you are or who you’re with – when you see your boyfriend do anything remotely attractive, you’re instantly turned on. the tingles you feel in your lower abdomen accompanied by the throbbing in your crotch are enough to make you go insane. toji either notices this and teases you, or deliberately ignores your squirms and shy whispers that try to catch his attention. 

“can’t wait now can you, princess?” toji’s hand tightly grips your hair, pulling it to try and hold you back from wrapping your mouth around his cock. your watery eyes are entirely focused on its erect form in front of you, practically drooling at the thought of sucking your boyfriend off. frankly, you couldn’t care about your family members who are waiting for your return in the living room down the hall. your needs were present in this small space - the bathroom - with you kneeling before the man you desire.  “fuck.” toji takes a deep breath, his dick twitching at the sight of you looking so cockdrunk when you hadn’t even gotten a taste. he is leaning against the bathroom wall with his head thrown back, adam's apple bobbing in his throat with the amount of grunts he’s trying to stifle, the moment you start sucking him off. one of his veiny hands held the back of your head, nearly forcing the tip of his cock to hit the deepest parts of your mouth whilst he kept his other hand over his mouth. he loves the fact that you enjoy pleasuring him – your addiction to him and his body never fails to make him feel light-headed.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 never denies you pleasure. it’s like you’re subconsciously hypnotising him and making him obsessed with you. he doesn’t have the needs to jerk off by himself anymore when you’re available — he can just ask you if you want to and you’re ready to do whatever. toji truly appreciates it and never forgets to return the favor one way or another. there’s no better way to reward you than to grant you the satisfaction you deserve.

“easy there, doll.” toji sighs. he watches as you lose control on top of him - eyes rolled back as you moan so deliciously. your boyfriend gets off to your noises and the way you try to satisfy both him and yourself at the same time. you lift your hips and slam them down on his cock repeatedly, his heavy balls slapping against the fat of your ass with each thrust. you could feel toji’s cum - the earlier loads he’s dumped in your needy pussy - coat his dick a translucent white. his big thighs and pelvis are sticky with a mixture of your bodily juices. you shake your head and babble something in the direction of not being able stop, “feels t-too good. .” “i know, i know.” toji lets out a low chuckle. he didn’t even have to do anything. he lays back against the couch, half-lidded eyes lazily checking your bare figure out, rough hands holding your hair back so it wouldn’t hide your lewd facial expressions from him. you can’t go on forever — he knows and he offers to take over, promises to fuck you so good that it’ll put you right to sleep afterwards, but you stubbornly shake your head. even if you refuse and continue sloppily riding him, toji decides to flip you over anyway.  he hammers his cock into you - leaving you no time to think of anything else. every sweet spot of yours is touched, every inch of your insides is filled and stretched. your desperate moans and squirming body only serve to prove your enjoyment. “look at you. nasty little girl - so fuckin’ desperate for my cock, eh? don’cha worry, I’ll give you it over ‘n over ‘til you pass out on me.” 

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t want to forget those moments where you’re begging him to fuck you. he’s always teasing you, asking you to repeat those sentences in that soft voice of yours over and over. sometimes he’ll even record your cute little begs as he’s fucking you dumb. for. . . personal use.

“whadd’ya say? c’mon, repeat it f’daddy.” toji coos, hips stilling and refusing to move until you repeat those sinful sentences to him. your soft, frustrated cries into the pillow are muffled — you were nearing your long-awaited orgasm before your lover decided to edge you. you sniff and decide to be stubborn back, pushing and pulling your ass back and forth, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. “aht, aht.” toji scoffs at your desperate attempts. he roughly smacks your ass and tugs your head back by your hair. you breathe in the fresh air after your face was buried into the pillow for so long. toji’s face was right next to yours, husky voice whispering into your ear; “i said repeat y’r words to me. or did i fuck ya dumb already?” you shake your head with a pout. everything was too much — in an addictive way. the overstimulation was addicting. the feeling of being used as a cumdump for your lover that night got you saying the filthiest of things. all of them were being recorded by toji; his phone in one hand with the camera pointed down at the way your back was perfectly arched. and your ass covered in cum was also captured on screen. toji wasn’t done with you until his gallery was filled with tons of pictures and videos.

tagging. @redskyvenus @marimogf @satoruhour xx

[cl6teen]

affection, ln4 ❀ chapter i. clueless

masterlist || chapter ii

in which everyone can’t believe that a certain mclaren driver and f1’s resident rich girl aren’t dating already

contains: smau, oblivious lando & oblivious reader

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 223,211 others

yourinstagram a much needed vacay

view all comments

landonorris im still offended by the lack of an invite

yourinstagram thailand is for the girls, not sorry!

bsfsinstagram there was a strict no lando norris rule for yn

user i have gyat to go to thailand

liked by yourinstagram

carlossainz55 the book is upside down dummy

yourinstagram i’ll turn you upside down

oscarpiastri what an informative post yn

yourinstagram hehe, can’t wait to see you

user omg yn at the next race???

user literally what are all these f1 boys doing in her comments

user shes a nepo baby i think

user her dad is mclaren’s biggest sponsor so she’s able to attend a lot of f1 events

user my fav honorary f1 wag

yourinstagram wag?? i’m very much single thank you

daniel ricciardo 🌚

yourinstagram don’t give them things to read into daniel.

lanny

i miss you

hey yn

miss youuu

when are you coming back

thailand can’t be that fun

y/n/n

thailand is totally that fun

in fact we’re about to go on a boat

lanny

you can go on a boat over here

y/n/n

it’s not the same 🙄

i don’t know why you’re so hung up about me taking a vacation

monaco gets boring sometimes

lanny

yeah but the second i get back from racing around the world you’re already gone

y/n/n

well i’ll be in the uk just in time for silverstone

lanny

you’re going back home?

y/n/n

my father said it’d be good to be around for a home race

so i’ll be in the uk for some time probably, it’s been a while since i’ve been back

lanny

okay good

i better see you cheering for me

it’d be embarrassing if my best friend was rooting for someone else

y/n/n

i’ve got my mclaren 4 cap ready to go

cant wait to see you ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 533,444 others

lando.jpg home dump

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yourinstagram and it’s all just a bit too much…for littol lando norris

lando.jpg im hiding in your walls

yourinstagram creep

maxfewtrell stream time? 🤔

lando.jpg let me race first bro

user not lando feeding yn pasta and lobsterrrr

carlossainz55 aye, was this a date??

yourinstagram he wishes, he got me from the airport & we went straight to eat

danielricciardo who’s that cutie?

yourinstagram i’m right here!

danielricciardo oh..i meant lando

oscarpiastri 😬

user im so confused, are they dating??

user no, but they’ve been like best friends since lando’s rookie year in mclaren

user shes better than me, i would have fallen in love…

liked by mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 745,234 others

yourinstagram couldn’t be prouder of my boys!!

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

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mclaren loving the love from our papaya girl 🧡

yourinstagram mwah

user yn ate today on the paddock

user she’s wearing lando’s hat im gonna cry

bsfsinstagram ugh get these men off my feed and show me ur pretty face

yourinstagram i was held at gunpoint and told to post this :/

landonorris the 6th photo…

yourinstagram ikr can you believe that loser got p2?

landonorris not too much now

oscarpiastri i look crazy

yourinstagram you look so cute??

oscarpiastri you shoved a camera in my face while i was eating

yourinstagram i did nothing wrong 🥰

user who was the man you were with on the paddock though?

yourinstagram my father!

user girl your daddy fine

liked by bsfsinstagram

bsfsinstagram user you have great taste

maxfewtrell send me that lando photo please

yourinstagram will do 🫡

45 likes

onlyyn i luv a good arfter prty

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danielricciardo me when i’m on the hennessy

onlyyn hehe

landonorris im looking for you

bsfsinstagram please don’t do anything crazy babe 😭

onlyyn i’ll try

lanny

y/n

where are you?

i thought you were with oscar

y/n/n

i let oscar leave! he looked tired

lanny

you should’ve told me that then

i would’ve kept an eye on you

are you drunk

y/n/n

i’m not a child oscar

lanny

*lando, but i’ll ignore that

and i’m not saying you are yn

there’s just people here that can be like

weird is all, who knows

are you drunk??

y/n/n

i don’t know, i’m not sober

are you drunk

lanny

i’m not sober

y/n/n

i thought you hated alcohol?

lanny

carlos convinced me to do some shots with him and max…

i regret it a little

do you wanna go home

y/n/n

yea

my feet hurt

lanny

i’ll carry you until we get to an uber

so can you tell me where you are now??

y/n/n

i’m in the bathroom

lanny

don’t move, i’ll come get you

y/n/n

god you’re the best ever lando

lanny

yeah i know 😁

[peachesofteal]

The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel. 

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable. 

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive. 

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles. 

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top. 

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod. 

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.” 

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts. 

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.” 

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights. 

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse. 

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one. 

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind. 

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded. 

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area. 

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling. 

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body. 

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm. 

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and- 

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath. 

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment. 

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding. 

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind. 

Sleep. 

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel. 

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened? 

And why do you hurt so fucking bad? 

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember? 

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate? 

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no. 

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye. 

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip. 

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down. 

Still… 

Didn’t Johnny kiss you? 

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed. 

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?”  You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones. 

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience. 

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

 “Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

[satoruhour]

a/n: not sure if other countries have rubbish chutes but my country does! i have to get out of my house to go to the common floor chute to throw my rubbish so this is just a little drabble based on that + spider-man!gojo :) / tagging @osaemu @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @mysugu ✶

“yes, yes! i’ll take out the trash—” you’re shouting to your mom when you’re called upon again, the third time within ten minutes to take the trash out. through your one-sided airpods (your left one always dies first), you can hear your mom tying the plastic bag and cleaning up at the sink.

it’s always been her bringing it to the chute outside your house; occasionally, you’d help but routine has never really let you do it, so later when you’re awkwardly tucking your phone into your pocket and listening to charlie burg’s voice through the right airpod, you can’t help the grimace that takes over your features at the wetness all over the trash bag.

“oh, it’s just water; stop being dramatic!” your mom chastises whilst on her nightly cup of water, gulping down the beverage before nodding towards the master bedroom, “i’m gonna go to sleep first.”

you hum in a half-hearted response, a little annoyed that you were interrupted from your lazing around but you still manage a soft goodnight when she disappears into the room and the house falls quiet. apart from the background classical music that plays from the stereo in the room and the laughter of the older kids downstairs outside, you’re living in a world of both music and silence, feeling a little disoriented by the one-sided song.

the walk to the outdoor chute is short in your oversized puffer jacket, flip-flops seemingly slapping against the floor in attempts of waking up all your neighbours beside you but thankfully they don’t seem to mind when you walk past their homes. it’s cold, feeling the snow that beats into the open corridors that lead to the rubbish chute. beside it, there’s a ledge that overlooks the other buildings, too.

with one swift step to the foot lever, the chute opens and you’re dumping the trash bag into the dirty, stained metal device and with a listening ear, you grin when you hear the bag travel through the tunnel and reach the bottom with a big plunk!, not really realising the ledge now held something.

or someone.

“h—”

if your slippers didn’t wake the neighbours up, your scream definitely did when spiderman himself hops off the ledge and leaps forward to place his palm over your mouth. it only fuels your desire to scream even more before you remember that your damn boyfriend is the vigilante that the police are looking for and citizens are rooting for more and more and that calms your racing heart just a bit.

but you still give him his due treatment . .

“what!” smack. “the!” smack. “fuck!” smack. “were!” smack. “you!” smack. “thinking?!” smack.

. . even if the widening of his spider-man mask eyes were adorable.

“sorry! sorry, sorry—” spider-man!gojo only continues to apologise but you can tell he’s enjoying it at least a little, hands gripping your biceps to help you to centre yourself. and as you predicted, once your boyfriend pulls off his mask, there’s a shit-eating grin and a cheeky glint in his eyes.

you muster the most unimpressed face you can — “really? i’m starting to think you’re not really sorry,” your mouth twists when you roll your eyes, getting ready to make a show of heading back into your house before he brings you into his arms. even with a hint of faux protest from you, you’re melting into his embrace, grumbling into his chest.

there’s a hint of wetness along his suit that you feel against your body, probably from the snow outside, but mostly you can feel the cold air against your hair and laboured breaths in your ear.

“i am! i missed you . .” he mumbles, suited fingers gripping your body tight against him like you were an apparition, “i just wanted to, uhm—”

it’s rare that you see your boyfriend having such a hard time with words, but it’s a cute sight when he pulls away and stumbles in his sentences and quickly removes the backpack that he’s webbed to the wall outside. there’s a noise of surprise from you as you watch him crawl outside on all fours and rip the backpack, scrambling to remove something from it.

and you’re so caught off-guard — in his hands are a ruined bouquet of flowers and a mixtape he’s put together for you — that you giggle at the state of it and coo at his downcast expression. he’s looking in the bag, outside, anywhere for what might’ve been the culprit to make the flowers turn out that way until he realises he had bought them a tad bit early and had been swinging around with it the whole day.

“aw . . satoru, they’re still pretty!” you take the gift with grateful hands, something you cherish despite his busy schedule of school and fighting villains. “but maybe don’t go on missions when you’ve got fresh flowers in your bag?”

satoru whines at that as he instinctively webs his backpack again, sulking until you’re leaping forward to give him another tight hug. alas, you would’ve preferred the comfort of his familiar hoodie but you can settle for the spandex of his suit as you squeeze him tight, ignoring the cold air that seeps into your bones.

“thank you, thank you ’toru . .” you smile, pulling away slightly before you take in the state of him. you didn’t have much time before, but now you can fully appreciate his white stark hair that matches the snow outside and the blue of his eyes that mirror his suit.

“it’s the thought that counts right?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head with the hand that clutches his mask.

you burst out laughing, “yes. yes it indeed is,” you smoothen out his hair, but not before you’re forming an idea, “i’ll— i’ll go put these in water and see if i can salvage them. you, stay here.”

with one peck to his cheek, you’re off back to your house but the bouquet of flowers is only left on your bedside table. in your hands are something else, a scarf and beanie that you take back to the area of the rubbish chute.

it’s not a place you deem romantic, but you’d never pass up a surprise visit from your superhero boyfriend. when you get back he’s removing the fallen petals from his bag, interrupting his activity when you place the scarf around his neck.

“here,” you smile, wrapping it around once and tucking in the ends, “it’s cold.”

satoru looks at you like everything good in the world, a bright grin breaking through when your eyes meet his in the midst of your adjusting.

“just so you know, you might not see this scarf ever again, sweetness.”

you laugh, “why? cause it’s got my scent all over it?”

gojo shrugs and gestures, “partially, but also it might fall off while i’m doing big boy things and swingin’ around in the neighbourhood.”

you push his shoulder lightly and joke, “if my scarf touches the city ground, you’re never hearing from me again.”

and all he does is cross his heart and hold out his hand, “i humbly hold your promise to my heart, your royal highness.”

gently you pull him towards you with the scarf ends, careful not to choke him. there, your lips collide with his glossed ones that manage to stay like that despite the cold weather, while your chapped ones only surprise him. but he swallows the shock soon enough, humming into the kiss softly as he wraps his suited arms around you. you’re so warm, puffer jacket and all and his neck is already heating up from the scarf and his flustered state, enough heat to fuel him through the night.

when oxygen becomes scarce you find that you need to pull away, met again with his pretty eyes that soften just by looking at you, but you both know that he needs to go when the notifications on his phone don’t stop. it’s probably his trackers notifying him about the villain, so you help him put on his mask, making sure the eye holes fit exactly where it needs to go and the sewing lines up with the rest of his suit. the beanie goes on last.

“baby— i . . i just needed to come see you before i fight green goblin,” he mumbles, brushing hair from your face and even with the barrier between the both of you, you know he’s smiling under, “some good luck would suffice, don’t ya think?”

“it would. now, go.” you pat his cheek, pulling away reluctantly as he slings his backpack and you suddenly feel cold again. “stay safe, spider-man.”

satoru cannot wait until he’s in your arms again, so he lunges forward and pulls his mask up just to his nose to give you one last kiss and you indulge him; when your eyes open, he’s already on the ledge.

“merry christmas, baby.” you can see the familiar stunning smile and a soft confession before he’s hopping off and you’re running to it to watch him swing away with a loud, lovesick laugh that sounds a little too much like the star student, gojo satoru, but it doesn’t matter when you know you’re the only one who knows his secret.

part two

[farmcores]

-

[primordial-arcane]

THE ARCHIVES

|| TAG DUMP || Vol. 5

Interactions

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[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒... 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 — ♡

one piece social media feat: strawhats special appearance: whitebeard pirates, heart pirates, kid pirates

》 in honour of barbie!! (+ oppenheimer)

♡ liked by nefertari_vivi, ace and 10.4k others

_ynln: barbie girls in the new world 🎀💄

[music: Beauty And A Beat - Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj ♫]

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, lovenami, theroronoa.zoro, nicorobin, nefertari_vivi, sogekingg.usopp, blackleg.sanji, jinbe, ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K, FRAAANKY

FRAAANKY: LETS GOOOOOOOOO 🔥🔥

nefertari_vivi: so happy to meet up with you guys again!! 💕

↳ _ynln: we missed u!

↳ lovenami: lets do it again!

↳ blackleg.sanji: YOU WERE SO BEAUTIFUL VIVI 💞💘❣️💕🥰😍

lovenami: we look so good omg ‼️

ace: CAN'T BELIEVE WE RAN INTO EACHOTHER

↳ _ynln: EEE IM SO GLAD YOU JOINED US!!

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HEHE IT WAS SO FUNNY WHEN U FELL ASLEEP ACE 😂

sogekingg.usopp: BEST DRESSED CREW IN THE NEW WORLD

trafalgar_d.law: it looked like you all copied doflamingo's style

↳ _ynln: PLEASE DELETE THIS B4 HE SEES IT I DONT WANT TO DIE🙏🙏

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HEHAHHA TRA GUY YOURE RIGHT

↳ doflamingo_: Looking good @_ynln

↳ _ynln: you're old enough to be my dad 😐

↳ doflamingo_: Add a dy to that

↳ theroronoa.zoro: more like you should dy off 😭😭 (liked by trafalgar_d.law, _ynln, sogekingg.usopp)

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: fire song choice (liked by _ynln, theroronoa.zoro)

♡ liked by marco_o, iampops and 14.3k others

ace: ran into these losers 😪

tagged: _ynln, p1rateking_luffy

marco_o: so when you said you couldn't do cleaning duty, you were out watching barbie

↳ ace: And I'm bad like the Barbie (Barbie) I'm a doll, but I still wanna party (party) Pink 'Vette like I'm ready to bend (bend) I'm a ten, so I pull in a Ken

↳ marco_o: you need to be put down

_ynln: omg i made it on THE FIRE FIST ACE'S ig?! 🫢🫢

↳ ace: YOU WERE LITERALLY IN THE LAST PHOTO DUMP

↳ _ynln: NO WAY YOU POST ME IN THE SAME DUMP AS LUFFY AND EXPECT ME TO BE OKAY W THAT 🤨🤨

↳ ace: mb you're the no.1 fr 😌🤞

p1rateking_luffy: LERS DO A MOVIE NIGHT AGUIB WIEH SABU TOO

↳ saaaa_bo: real, if that's what you were trying to say

iampops: Sons, let's go watch barbie together

↳ ace: pops i ain't even gonna lie, there's no way we can bring you to the theatre and not have the marines after us 😭😭

↳ _ynln: ace YOU'RE the liability, i literally ran into the marines and they were offering me DOUBLE your bounty to turn you in

↳ lovenami: AND YOU DIDN'T DO IT?

♡ liked by nojiko.ko, blackleg.sanji and 6.9k others

lovenami: glad this fit is boutta be on my new bounty poster 🤞

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, _ynln, nicorobin, nefertari_vivi

_ynln: nami nahh 💀 we were running for our LIVES

↳ themarineofficial: my mum told me to chase after my dreams (liked by _ynln, FRAAANKY, theroronoa.zoro)

↳ sogekingg.usopp: WHO TF HACKED INTO THE OFFICIAL MARINE IG LMFAOO 😭😭

↳ lovenami: scariest notification

trafalgar_d.law: luffy? more like goofy. why's he trying to rizz up the camera man like that

p1rateking_luffy: Tra guy what does rizz mean

↳ trafalgar_d.law: RIZZ: Another word for spitting game/how good you are with pulling and sustaining bitches. [Urban Dictionary]

↳ p1rateking_luffy: I GOT THAT ILLEGAL RIZZ 🤪🤪😇🙏🔥🔥

↳ _ynln: LUFFY WHAT

↳ lovenami: ?!!

↳ jinbe: ?

↳ trafalgar_d.law: wtaf

↳ p1rateking_luffy: Ace told me to say it :((

↳ saaaa_bo: ACE STOP RUINING LUFFY'S DIGITAL FOOTPRINT

↳ ace: GUYS OMG DONT HATE ON ME TBF HE PULLED HANCOCK AND SHES LIKE 30

blackleg.sanji: MY BEAUTIFUL GODDESSES IN ONE FRAME HOW DID I EVER GET THIS LUCKY TO BE BORN INTO THIS LIFE 💓💖💘🧡💕💖💗❤️

↳ p1rateking_luffy: I'm in the photo too!

↳ blackleg.sanji: sadly.

↳ _ynln: 😭

♡ liked by sogekingg.usopp, BONBONBONCLAY and 12.7k others

p1rateking_luffy: Last nighT was fun

tagged: ace, theroronoa.zoro, _ynln, blackleg.sanji

ace: WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO ME?

↳ _ynln: dude you were GONE 😭

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HAAHGAHA DID YIUO SEE THE THINGFW WE DFEW ON YOURE FACE

↳ trafalgar_d.law: ever feel bad about yourself? think about luffy's spelling (liked by saaaa_bo)

lovenami: WHAT WERE YOU GUYS DOING TO YN AND ZORO IN THE SECOND PHOTO

↳ lovenami: WAIT WHEN WAS THE PHOTO EVEN TAKEN?

↳ p1rateking_luffy: Ryght after the marnjnes follqweod you g0uys instead

↳ sogekingg.usopp: aint no way i was fighting for life and these rats were having the time of their life 🫤🫤

↳ _ynln: 😝

↳ p1rateking_luffy: 😝

♡ liked by killerrr, SOU1K1NGBR00K and 10.1k others

_ynln: strawhats take on oppenheimer next 🖤

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, lovenami, theroronoa.zoro, nicorobin, nefertari_vivi, sogekingg.usopp, blackleg.sanji, jinbe, ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K, FRAAANKY

themarinesofficial: strawhat ladies and roronoa zoro i will need to arrest you for stealing my heart ❤️

↳ _ynln: LMFAO UM IM CRYING??!!

↳ nicorobin: This is slightly uncomfortable

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: LMFAO THE WAY ZORO IS INCLUDED AHHAA

↳ blackleg.sanji: BACK OFF FROM THEM 🫵

↳ theroronoa.zoro: just crucify me again

sogekingg.usopp: OKAY BUT FR WHO HACKED INTO THEIR ACC 😭😭

↳ FRAAANKY: nah people in the marines just getting bored fr

ace: YOOO LETS MEET UP (liked by _ynln)

↳ p1rateking_luffy: @saaaa_bo COME TOO