#probably are aware of his shenanigans

[drawnecromancy]

Sometimes a silly bird disguised as a human sits on a dragon's hoard of gold and tries to seduce him.

Community label for it being vaguely suggestive I guess.

Art taglist : @jezifster @isabellebissonrouthier (feel free to ask to be added to the list!)

[ventique18]

A non-negligible amount of people in the fandom dislike Grim, but I'll put it out there that I'm one of the 50% of the fandom who actually likes him. Why?

He's ugly. He's stinky. He has no redeeming features. He's a little creature with not even half a brain.

That's it. Unlike me fighting for Malleus' fictional rights, I really don't have anything to say about Grim because he is greedy, he is gluttonous, he's a little dick who has zero self awareness. But he does love the player, and though he has the empathy of a loaf of bread, he pulls through sometimes and shows he's scared of losing them. Like once a year.

And honestly that's enough for me. For all his faults and the amount of shit he puts Yuu through, I still do appreciate the companionship he offers. I like to think Grim's shenanigans make Yuu forget about their homesickness, and give the relief that they're able to make a family in this strange world.

I do understand why people would be sick of him though lol. I had a little experience teaching toddlers when I was a teenager, and I quickly learned that I'm more tolerant than most. That's probably why I can't get mad at him. Grim is worse than most toddlers though, and given he also has the spirit of a cat mixed in, it's really not a surprise that he'd tire out lots of folks. 🤣

But for the curious and can't understand why we love Grim, it's just the silly kind of warmth and companionship he offers. Kind of like why cat lovers have a toxic relationship with their cats who use their arm as a scratch post lol. And honestly it's fine if we don't get understood; affection just comes differently to people.

[forever-rogue]

Salty

AN | Hello, as you all know Joel is alive and well and there are shenanigans afoot in Jackson. Enjoy💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language 

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You loved Joel.

Joel loved you (you hoped anyway) and Ellie.

Ellie hated you.

After just over half a year in Jackson, you had finally put two and two together. All those little things you’d thought were accidents or odd coincidences weren't that at all.

Everything came down to one Ellie Williams. And that led to you making a decision you immediately hated.

“I don’t think we… should spend time together anymore.” The lump in your throat was thick, and you focused your attention on the vegetables you were tending, refusing to look at the man. You’d rehearsed this very moment in your head about two hundred times, and still, it wasn’t going to plan. Sigh.

The man next to you was silent for a few beats, trying to decide if you were being serious. When you didn’t say anything further but he heard your sniffle, he realized this wasn’t a joke at all.

“Oh? And just how did you reach that conclusion, darlin’?”

“I just… I dunno, Joel. It just seems like the right thing to do.” You shrugged, adding the carrots you'd unearthed into the basket between the two of you. “I don’t… I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and think I’m… interested.”

A heavy silence fell over you; you tried to continue working, but Joel remained dumbfounded, watching your every move.

“Okay,” he eventually said, causing you to relax slightly. “I’ll do as you ask and respect your wishes and all that. You gonna tell me what changed suddenly?”

“Nothing,” you lied. You’d thought about telling him the truth but highly doubted he’d believe you. He’d never think his baby girl would do something so downright vicious. “It’s just… what I want.”

“Alright.” He stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans, capturing your attention. “I’ll leave you to it. I think you can handle it from here, right? I wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea.”

“Joel—” His name came out as a huff, but before you could get any further, he had already walked away.

You watched after him until he was out of your sight before hastily wiping at the tears rolling down your cheeks. This hurt even worse than you had anticipated. Ellie would probably leave you alone now that you weren’t pursuing her dad or trying to take him away from her.

“I guess it’s just you and me again.” You pulled a few more carrots out of the dirt and tossed them to the side. You were going to need a new hobby to occupy your mind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time something strange had happened, you had been baking a cake for Joel's birthday. You were in the restaurant kitchen, having talked Seth into letting you use the space to keep your plans secret.

You were almost done mixing the dry ingredients when you couldn’t find the sugar.

“Where is it…” You looked through cabinets, sure you’d seen the container at some point. Without sugar, you definitely weren’t going to finish this cake.

“Looking for this?” There was a smile on Ellie’s face as she set an unlabeled bag down next to your bowl. You relaxed and nodded. “Sorry, I was using it earlier. Totally forgot to put it back.”

“No worries at all,” you said, grabbing the measuring cup and adding the sugar to your bowl. “I was starting to worry I’d imagined it.”

“Hmm.” Ellie watched you work in silence for a few minutes. “What’s this for?”

“I’m making a cake… for Joel.” Your face warmed as a flash of annoyance shot across hers. She was well aware of what you were doing, having overheard you talking to Tommy. “I figured it’d be something nice for him.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” she smiled. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” you agreed.

Unfortunately, fortune seemed determined to make a fool of you.

You’d stopped at Joel’s house to deliver the cake, wanting to make it casual.

“Happy birthday,” you sang, holding up the cake with an eager look. Your heart beat nervously as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“It’s amazing,” he whispered, heart constricting at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since someone had baked him a birthday cake. “C’mon in. We can cut right into it.”

“Oh,” you smiled shyly, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re always welcome here,” he said, firm but still soft. “And I insist.”

“Okay.” You followed him inside, setting the cake on the table. Joel grabbed a couple of forks, plates, and a knife. “Is Ellie here? Should we cut some for her?”

“She’s off at Dina’s,” he shook his head. “It’s just us.”

“Well here, let me.” You cut into the cake, placing large slices on each plate. You sat down across from him, pushing a plate toward him. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

“It certainly is now.” You tried not to freak out as you took a bite. Joel did the same.

As soon as you started chewing, you realized it tasted… terrible. Gritty and salty. Anything but sweet and decadent. You reluctantly swallowed and cast a forlorn look at Joel, who was clearly trying to school his expression.

“This is disgusting,” you said, horrified. “I—I must’ve added salt instead of sugar. Fuck. I should’ve paid more attention, but I thought… Ellie handed me the sugar.”

“It’s…” Joel, bless his heart, tried to make it seem better than it was.

“Terrible,” you insisted, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry. I ruined it all.”

“It’s not… the worst thing ever.”

“Joel.”

“It’s pretty bad,” he admitted with a grimace, “but it’s the thought. Even if that’s cliché.”

“Well,” you sighed with a grimace, “maybe next time will be better.”

Joel reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours. His touch made your stomach flip. “It’s okay, really. Thank you for this.”

“Happy birthday,” you whispered. Your face was warm, and you swore you saw a light blush on his cheeks.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second time you were sure that you had bad luck. Everyone has bad luck sometimes, right?

It was spring, finally warm enough not to require multiple layers. There was a barbecue going on, and Joel had asked if you wanted to go with him. He hadn’t said it was a date—but he hadn’t not.

You’d put on a sundress, feeling prettier than you had in a long time.

But as you walked to Joel’s house, something slippery on the porch made you slide off and into a lingering patch of mud.

A scream escaped your lips. You weren’t hurt—just covered in mud from head to toe. Your shoes had fallen off. Tears of frustration fell down your face, which only smeared the muck.

“Are you okay?” Joel ran outside, worried. When he saw what had happened, he had to fight a smile. He was glad you weren’t hurt—but it was a little funny. You let out a frustrated huff. He stepped off the porch and held out his hand. “Oh, darlin’.”

Just as you reached for him, he slipped and landed next to you. His surprised face made you giggle. Reaching over to wipe a spot off his cheek, you shook your head.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled. “I’d say we make a fine pair.”

“Unfortunately, I think we’ll have to clean up and change before we do anything,” you teased. Joel looked at you with nothing short of fondness. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” he said, leaning in. You leaned in too. “I’m just thinking I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Oh?” You were ready to finally close the gap when the front door burst open.

“Hey!” Ellie’s voice made you both jump apart. “What happened?”

“Slipped and fell,” you both said in unison.

“You should be more careful,” she said directly to you, brown eyes hard. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen.”

Then she turned and went back inside. A shiver ran down your spine.

“C’mon.” Joel got to his feet and helped you up. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“Thanks,” you said softly.

Something inside your stomach twisted. Something was going on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The third time you were sure that none of the things that had been happening were accidental.

Joel had asked you on a date—made it very clear it was a date. Even though it was just Joel, you were full of butterflies.

You settled on an outfit and went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Everything needed to be perfect.

Until… you tried to leave the bathroom and couldn’t. You jiggled the knob, convinced it was stuck, but after a few seconds of no success, you realized you were locked in.

You exhaled sharply, trying not to panic. This wasn’t an accident—but you weren’t in real danger either.

You banged on the door. “Ellie! Let me out! Please let me out!”

No response. But you thought you heard creaking down the hall. She wasn’t coming back.

You sat on the toilet, head in your hands. This was the worst. All you had wanted was a date with Joel. You couldn’t even have that.

Eventually, you pried open the bathroom window, grateful you lived in a one-story house. You squeezed out and fell a few feet onto the hard ground with a small oof.

Brushing yourself off, you made your way to Joel’s house, ready to set things straight.

Only one light was on. He wasn’t home. Your heart sank.

You knocked loudly. “Ellie!”

After a moment, the door flew open. She stood there, surprised. You laughed bitterly. “Surprised to see me?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Cut the shit,” you snapped, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. “Why have you been doing this to me? And don’t even try to lie—I know it’s been you.”

“I…” She didn’t even bother to lie. “Stay away from Joel. He doesn’t need you. We’re fine without you.”

“Is that what this is about? Me and Joel? Why does it—”

“He doesn’t need you,” she hissed. “Stay away from my dad.”

The door slammed in your face.

You stood there, stunned.

After a few moments, you trudged home, your heart heavy, when you heard your name being called. You turned to see Joel catching up.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside you. “What happened? I waited for over an hour, then went to check if you’d gone to—”

“I was locked in my bathroom.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. Joel stared at you, waiting for a punchline. But then he saw your expression—serious.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“How did you…”

“Weird accident.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, stopping and gently grabbing your wrist. You turned to face him, fighting back tears. He touched your cheek.

“Things have been a little… off lately.”

“Guess I’m just having a spot of bad luck,” you shrugged, refusing to say the real reason. As angry as you were with Ellie, you understood. Joel was her stability—and in her mind, you were a threat.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Did you still want to grab dinner?”

“Actually, I kind of just want to go home.” You hated the way hope faded from his face.

“I’ll see you around, Joel. Have a good night.”

“Good night.” He gave your hand a squeeze but watched you walk away, his heart heavy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Two weeks passed.

You caught glimpses of Joel, but that was it. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You missed him.

One night, as you were getting ready for bed, a knock came at your door. You almost ignored it—but you knew better. No one in Jackson would let you live it down.

With a sigh, you trudged to the door, already annoyed.

“What?” you asked before even looking—only to find Joel standing there, a bemused smile on his face.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we should talk.” You swallowed thickly. “Can I come in?”

“Y-yeah.” You stepped aside and led him into the living room. You sat across the couch from him. “What’s up?”

“Ellie told me what happened,” he said. Your shock was evident. “She explained what she did.”

“Oh.”

“She said she hated seeing me so miserable all the time,” he continued, and you realized you weren’t the only one hurting. “She said she felt some remorse.”

“I don’t… I do blame her—because she did those things. But I can understand where she’s coming from.” You shrugged. “She’s trying to protect you. You’re her family. She doesn’t want to lose you. It’s her way of showing love. I can’t fault her for that.”

“I know,” he said. “She told me everything. But it doesn’t make what she did right. You could’ve been seriously hurt. I told her that no matter what happened between us, my love for her wouldn’t change.”

“Of course not.”

“But tell me… were you really ready to never speak to me again?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t be happy about it.” Your face flushed and you couldn’t meet his eyes. “But if that was best for everyone…”

“Do you really think that would’ve been best?”

“Well… no. Now it seems trivial.” You met his honeyed gaze—reverent, gentle. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He scooted closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body. “You still want me to stay away?”

“I’m kind of thinking I want you to finally kiss me.”

You didn’t know where the boldness came from, but it had been long enough.

“Is that so?”

“It is—”

Joel kissed you gently, cutting you off. It caught you off guard—but it was perfect.

“Yeah?” His hand was on your cheek, thumb stroking your skin.

“Again?” Your soft request made him chuckle. “Please?”

And he didn’t waste any time.

He kissed you again.

[duckysprouts]

what kind of relationship do spiky eren and carla have and what does she think of his shenanigans? i both cant imagine her really being okay w all the stunts he pulls but also cant imagine her completely distancing herself from him... and what about grisha? i can def see the poor man trapped in the "post reiss family massacre" state every time he thinks about eren lol poor man

carla used to be a turkish immigrant working in a night club as a waitress in berlin, where she met grisha who was bullied into going out to celebrate his graduation with his fellow residents. i think that eren got his first piercing to match hers

she is aware to some extent of eren’s behaviour. he was an aggressive and asocial child when he was young and his parents probably took him to a lot of specialists, but i don’t think she knows fully what is going on. she can detect his bullshit, but she does not know what the bullshit is. when eren went to live with zeke, she was worried because she and zeke don’t have a good relationship and she knows he will enable eren

if she actually did find out, she would be very upset but idk to what extent

[evilminji]

You Know How There Are Those AU? Where SUPER Injured Ghosts Need To Retreat To Their Core?

No one seems to be USING that to its fullest potential! For SHENANIGANS! Because! Who?? Could POSSIBLY carry a Halfa's Core safely... but another Halfa?! A FULL ghost would KILL them. A human would be killed! What terribly precarious peril we find ourselves in! Oh nooooooo!

Well, no worry!

As much as Dani fuckin HATES this. That there is her brother. Her Template. Her Clone Daddy and Bestest of Bros. Like HECK she's gonna let him suffer for centuries and possibly DIE. She can take it, Doc! Pop him in! We'll go road tripping and-

What do you MEAN "No"?

Unstable??! Of course she's unstable! But the-.... Oh.

Turns OUT? Dani? Can hitch a ride in DANNY for Emergency Medical Aid... but NOT the other way around. Her body is too loosely held together. He would parasiticly consume her from within. Instead of feeding off her Ecto System like injured ghosts are supposed too, because she's a CLONE? AND an unstable one at that? His Core would just... see her body as free ectoplasm. All of it.

He'd eat her.

Which mean Frostbite can not and WILL NOT allow that.

But he's HURT! That big, off screen, cataclysmic Fight To Save Everybody From *cough cough mumbles* and settle us all in the DC universe, REALLY messed him up! What are we supposed to DO!? He can't STAY like this!!!

Enter-> My FAVORITE DCxDP Trash Ship! Vlad&Lex!!! *horrified screaming from the crowds, someone shouts "oh god, no! Please!"* Ha! There are no gods here, silly billys! Only two terrible, terrible HIGHLY Dramatic, self serving, incredibly damaged, gay peacocks. In Business Suits that cost more then your house is worth.

They're AWFUL~♡

And! Vlad was sent ahead to lay the ground work. Insure there would be no GIWs. Also because no one could stand him and his EXTENSIVE criminal record. But that's besides the point.

But!

You know what he found? A Business Nemesis. Who he routinely dates and/or Dramatically Hate Fu-*coughs* I mean, attempts a Corporate Take Over(tm) off. You know how it is. Business. He ALSO gets to make it no secret he's a "Meta", thanks to the INCOMPETENCE of one Jack Fenton, because that- *seething rant*

Yet? Dispite his STILL burning hatred for Jack? And his finally letting go of Maddie? You know what he STILL wants?

For Danny to be his Son.

*Gets a call from Frostbite*

...............soooooo........ what you're SAYING is..... I can be pregnant with Daniel.

You, Frostbite, need ME, Vladimir Masters, THE ONLY OTHER HALFA, to carry Daniel around inside my body, in what to all appearances resembles a pregnancy, in order to heal him. Because I am an Older And Stronger Halfa Upon Which He Relies.

:)

*instantly begins plotting*

Just? Imagine. Vlad is a FUCKIN LIAR. No one but him would even KNOW what was going on! He just? Rocks up one day, like? *falsely demure* "oh I couldn't POSSIBLY has any scotch, Lex! >:) I'm eating for Two~☆" and just? Deals the MAXIMUM amount of psychic damage he can.

Probably says it at their weekly, public, Veiled Threats Brunch.

It makes front page news. Luthor choked on his eggs. The paparazzi lost their SHIT. Vlad is doing the FULL Celebrity Mom Thing. The classes. The photo shoots. The Gucci sunglasses as he peruses high end strollers. All while HEAVILY suggesting that not only is "The Baby" Lex's.... but that he's going to withhold the child and deny Lex any access.

Danny isn't even aware. He's in a lovely lil medical coma. Dani is trying to find a good spot to plop down Amity. She just know Vlad is being... Vlad. Meh. He can handle it. Dan? He's not even IN the human realm and is not sure he wants to be.

But over in the LEAGUE? Everything's on fuckin FIRE.

Kon is losing his SHIT and Clark is thousand yard staring into the void. Kon's half brother is in the hands of a... Less Then Ideal... Meta that Batman is PRETTY sure is highly suspect. Might be a deliberate weapons experiment. Certainly is a hostage. And the DRAMA.

Lex has never been worse.

He might actually stab his...partner? Vlad. At the hospital. The SECOND the child is born. There are already long term kidnapping plans in the making. He's hiring lawyers. Getting VICIOUS. There have been talks with DEATHSTROKE. By BOTH OF THEM.

Clark wants to cry.

@hypewinter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull

[iridescentrays]

warning: possible spoilers from manga

masterlist ꩜ next chap

Now this was weird.

You were a diligent student at the JCC. You never tried pulling attention to yourself, and only the teachers really knew who you were. Being aware of your surroundings especially helped in lowering your profile to others. It gives you the high ground to know who was plotting, where they were, etc etc…

So why the hell was Nagumo staring at you?

He was one of the most popular guys at school (along with Akao and Sakamoto of course). Mostly infamous screwing off with his friends’ shenanigans, he was at the center of attention.

Something you would like to avoid.

It didn’t help that you somehow keep running into him everyday. His pretty face was too overbearing, and trying to avoid the spotlight was getting near to impossible.

Especially during this class, Nagumo’s eyes bore into the side of your head, oblivious to the fact you can tell he’s staring.

It was like you were a prick, an eyesore, a stain on a brand new t-shirt…you couldn’t tell!!! His poise revealed nothing besides the fact he was attentively staring at you instead of the teacher’s review for the final.

It was not like you could call him out, without letting everyone in the room know you existed.

“Uhh… you in the back”

The teacher called out you for the question on the board. ‘Something about poisons…’

The only redeemable factor of this class was that it was easy.

Ignoring all the weirdos in the room, and yes thats including Nagumo and his gang, the subject was straightforward and you just plug the missing factors into the formula (which flew over the heads of some).

Getting up and writing the answer on the board, the teacher praised you, using you as an example on what he expects in a star student.

In the corner of your eye, Rion who sat to Nagumo kept nudging him. She whispered something into his ear, which he glared and looked away, returning his focus on you.

‘How long does he plan to stare…’

The way Rion was snickering in your direction, Sakamoto covering his face in shame, and of course the way Nagumo’s eyes never left you, made you anxious.

‘What happens if they’re plotting for a way to kill me??!!’

They definitely seem like the bully type. Maybe it’ll be those high school cliches where they would stuff the nerd into the trashcan if they didn’t give them the answers! But it’s not that’s gonna happen right? right!!?

Suppressing your worries flopped the minute you felt the whole group stare at you and whispered. It didn’t help that Sakamoto pointed at you with Rion joining in…and the fact the Nagumo was getting out of his seat right now…walking towards you?

oh hell no

“Hey! I was wonde—“

The bell rang, signaling the time for the next class. You used the momentarily shock of Nagumo to rush out of the classroom and probably plan for safety gear for tomorrow.

Thanks to your great perception, you escaped being a victim of bullying!

However, what you failed to notice was the faint blush on Nagumo’s cheeks every time he looked at you.

“HAHAHAH SHE TOTALLY LEFT YOUR ASS”

Nagumo groaned in frustration, “Its because you kept distracting me…”

“Maybe she just doesn’t like you”. Rion laughed and slung her arm around Sakamoto’s neck. “YUP! looks like you won’t be getting your study girlfriend anytime soon!!”

“I hate you guys”

MISSION STATUS: UNSUCCESSFUL

[everrinsly]

a momager and her silly olympic team vibes.

fake injuries with the bois. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here! | part 1

more reads!

~~~~~

It didn’t take long for the boys to get annoyed—

"That bastard actually got coddled...like a fuckin' baby!"

"And he was smug as fuck about it too. Like did you see his face?!"

"So he thinks he could flirt after Brazil, huh?"

"Nah, the question is how'd he learn to flirt in Brazil?"

"Wait, Suna, didn't you post a video to Insta?"

"Yeah, it got like 3.8 million views, still going. The shrimp's famous."

"No, wait, how—I thought you captured the most unflattering angle of him?!"

"I did. Fans said he looked hot."

"BRO—"

‌—because one hit to the face and Hinata was getting iced, lap-cuddled, and spoon-fed frozen chocolate ice-cream not by just any manager, but you. You. YOU. The one who have known them since Nationals back in high school. All sweet and soft and so kind—like how could they not want to be doted on by you. With your gentle hands brushing back his hair back and your 'you can have three popsicles instead of two' energy, the rest of the team suddenly became very aware of their own "injuries" (cough cough).

And Hinata? The one you called 'your sunshine'? Yeah, he was totally taking advantage of you, and you didn't even know it. Because you adored him in all his Hinata ways.

All you noticed was Hinata glowing, cheek iced and feet propped on a towel roll like a prince on the bench.

"You look better today, Sunshine," you murmured, brushing a few stands of his hair back.

"I am, thanks to you," he said softly, grabbing your free palm and nuzzling his cheek against it.

Your heart fluttered. His eyes were hooded, looking at you like you were the sun. Like his sunshine. A small smirk playing on his lips (smug as fuck, Bokuto was right).

Your hand freed itself from carding through his hair to press against his forehead. "Mm...did the doctor give you drugs? You seem...different."

He suddenly leaned forward, as best he can, and wrapped his arms around you. His nose in your hair. Your face pressed against his biceps. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

"I'm trying to flirt with you, sweets."

Oh. OH—

(Brazil treated him well).

You unconsciously buried your face in his chest, all flustered and shy. Squeezed his biceps one last time before pulling away to let out a soft giggle.

"How about...less flirting...and more of...letting me apply your soothing balm?"

He pouted, but it was quickly replaced by a knowing grin. "Okay, as long as it's always gonna be you who applies them."

"Always."

So there you were, mid-way through applying the balm on Hinata's bruise—

“Ow.”

You looked up.

Suna was limping across the court like a wounded soldier.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” he said, voice completely flat but somehow convincing. “Definitely need medical attention. And...emotional support.”

You gave him a suspicious look. “Weren't you standing there for the last ten minutes?"

“Exactly. Deadly position. Bad for circulation.”

Before you could respond—

THUMP.

Bokuto dramatically fell backwards onto a mat. “I LANDED WRONG.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even look up from taping a new roll on his fingers. “You tripped on your own shoelace.”

“It was a bad fall, Iwa!” Bokuto whined. “I’m probably emotionally concussed.”

Atsumu swaggered over, holding his arm like it was broken. “I can’t set like this. Might need you to, y’know, gently wrap it. Maybe kiss it better?”

You threw a cold pack at him. “You’re not getting a popsicle, Atsumu.”

“But HINATA got—”

“I was HIT IN THE FACE—” Hinata yelled from the bench besides you, popsicle stick in hand, like a prize.

You cut him off. "Sho—when did you grab another popsicle? I said only three."

He grinned. "When I was hugging you...ice box was behind you."

"HINATA SHOYOU—"

"I know. I'm sorry—I'm sorry, baby."

"BABY—don't fuckin' call her baby!" Atsumu yelled, glaring at Hinata.

You sighed, wanting to laugh at the chaos. Reminds you of high school.

But then, not to be outdone, Kageyama walked up with a deadly serious expression.

“I have a…neck cramp.”

And you blinked. “A neck cramp?”

He nodded solemnly. “It needs…rubbing.”

Iwaizumi, now fuming, snapped, “You want me to bring a massage table for your fake cramp, Kageyama?!”

Komori giggled from the side, taping his fingers like this was the best show on earth. “Ten bucks says Ushijima goes next.”

Right on cue, Ushijima raised his hand. “I have a sore muscle.”

You sighed, exasperated. “Where?”

“…In my soul.”

You paused.

“…That doesn’t even—y’know what? No. No more injured babies. Line up, I’ll evaluate all of you.”

Eight fully grown, elite Olympic athletes formed a line like kids at a daycare.

Sakusa stayed behind, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold. “You’re all pathetic.”

You turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “Not gonna fake anything to get pampered too, Kiyoomi?”

He met your gaze. Calm. Cool.

“…I don’t need to fake anything.”

Then he held up his hand. A tiny red mark on his knuckle.

“Paper cut.”

Komori fell off the bench laughing.

Iwaizumi groaned into his hands.

And you stared at the entire team, your bag of ice packs dangling from one hand like a mom holding a flip-flop. “You guys are the most dramatic group of grown men I’ve ever met.”

“Your fault for being too nice,” Suna murmured, settling into the bench beside you with a victorious little smirk. He leaned his head against yours.

Atsumu peeked over your shoulder. “So…hypothetically…if I got hit in the face now, do I also get three popsicles?”

You tossed a towel over his head.

[mothinkling]

how would the LIs react to a high/drunk mc

can be romantic or platonic!

no specific scenario, either they found mc in that state or was with them when they got high/drunk

DRUNK TOO MUCH (TOUCHSTARVED X GN!READER HC)

Summary: Getting drunk with/around the TS cast.

TW: Mentions of mild coercion, dubious consent and intoxication.

A/N: This was way too fun to think about, I really hope in the full-release we do actually have an option to get drunk because that'd be hilarious.

Vere; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ Oh, how pathetic are you? somehow managing to get wasted off some cheap, watered-down drinks at the Wet Wick.

♡ Even when he's softened from champagne, he still manages to keep his dignity.

♡ Although at least someone knew how to have a good time, unlike a certain two other limp-dicks who seemed incapable of loosening up.

♡ He'd coerce you into doing the stupidest shit imaginable, his cunning and sly words working tenfold in your intoxicated state.

♡ Unless you're out in public with him, he won't soil his reputation for your idiotic antics.

♡ Despite the fact he'd be flirtier and much bolder with his words, especially if he's also drunk as well, he wouldn't actually take you upstairs.

♡ He'd rather you beg for him fully conscious, there's a lot more humiliation in how desperate you are when you're completely sober. <3

♡ He's too pretentious to down anything other than brandy drinks, which doesn't leave much for a party buzz.

♡ 6/10 drinking buddy.

Ais; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ He thinks it's absolutely hilarious, was likely the one to encourage it in the first place.

♡ He's also very competitive, chances are he'll take it as a competition to get just as wasted as you, even if his alcohol tolerance is much higher.

♡ Doesn't matter if it was a challenge, you're about to be plunged into a drinking game, whether you like it or not.

♡ He won't make you try any of the disgusting concoctions Leander cooks up, he doesn't really care if you're getting wasted on expensive shots or cheap vodka, as long as you consume a ton of it.

♡ And if you're looking to do stupid shit, he's right behind you; but at least he'll be somewhat mindful that you don't hurt yourself.

♡ He'd enjoy if you're a talkative drunk, especially since he's right there swooning next to you- but he's more of a chill drunk, leaving the shenanigans to you.

♡ He wants to hear every word of your delicious, intoxicated rambling, to hear every thought going on that pretty little sparrow head of yours.

♡ He's just savoring the fact your thoughts are still yours, please don't drink from the spring, keep your shitty personality that's captivated him so.

♡ 10/10 drinking buddy.

Leander; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ The man of the hour, the one who's likely gotten you very wasted.

♡ And again, is probably fucked up himself; he isn't one to serve what he can't take wink wink.

♡ He would encourage your antics but not from a place of egging you on like Ais, but more that he's so loopy and chilled out that he can't do anything but laugh.

♡ At least that's what you think, he's still fully aware of every word leaving his mouth that wraps around your mind like the silk ties attached to his bed. :)

♡ He'd definitely try to feed you his extremely strange drinks he's mixed up, no matter how chunky or very unappetizing it is.

♡ At least he's merciful enough to not let you leave the Wet Wick and wreak havoc on the town, although that might be more because he doesn't want you to leave him.

♡ He'll use this to prob at you, asking your opinions on the city around you and anybody you've interacted with, drawing out your slurred speech.

♡ He's a firm believer that drinking with friends is the only way to go, so expect to be wasted with company!

♡ Don't worry, he's so gentlemanly he'll even take you upstairs to your room, don't worry about the key! he has access to every room in this establishment.

♡ He'll tuck you nice and cozy into bed when you start to stumble, and if your foggy mind wants him to join you, who is he to say no?

♡ I'm a 12/10 drinking buddy, don't listen to what they have to say, I'm the real-deal, beautiful.

Mhin; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ Really? are you incapable of making responsible decisions for the life of you? they wonder how you'd even made it to Eridia alive.

♡ Extremely grumpy about it, acting as if it's their job to look after you- even if nobody asked them.

♡ They'll very openly point out anything wrong with Leander's cocktails and 'special mixes', kind of a buzzkill.

♡ They'd act disinterested, letting you do whatever you want as if they didn't care; but miraculously you never end up waking up hurt, how peculiar.

♡ If you aren't at the Wet Wick and need to stumble home or somewhere else, they won't follow.

♡ At least that's what your hazy mind thinks, you're intoxicated enough to not feel the set of eyes tracking you.

♡ They'd follow you home (In a none-creepy way, they vehemently protest) to make sure you don't stumble your way into the jaws of some monster.

♡ 2/10 drinking buddy.

Kuras; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ He's so confused, not only on your behavior but why you'd put yourself in this position in the first place.

♡ He can't physically get drunk himself; enough that even if he's read about the effects, because of his lack of empathy- he still can't really understand.

♡ Sure he knows that your inhibitions have fogged over from the release of dopamine in your bloodstream, but he doesn't really know why that means you insist on trying to climb over the bar.

♡ He'll hover over you as you drink or dance, telling you all the effects whatever Leander fed to you is having on your body, as if that'll magically make you sober up.

♡ Another buzzkill, but he doesn't mean to be, so he gets a bit more lenience, and he'd offer the best hangover care.

♡ He'd at least find any sort of drunken rambling to be endearing, he'd enjoy hearing you spill the thoughts you'd likely have kept to yourself, answering very few of the questions that's been swirling in his mind.

♡ He'll at least stop you from making a fool of yourself, the moment a dumb idea enters your head he's already ushering you upstairs to sleep off the intoxication.

♡ The party ends when Kuras arrives. :(

♡ 3/10 drinking buddy.

[essektheylyss]

I love that Caleb does not ever seem to take opportunities to take any kind of "this might be the last moment I have" actions. No matter what, when everyone else is going around and making their desperate moves, Caleb doesn't. Even after he recommends otherwise to others, it is notable that he among the group doesn't do so, and this is consistent with his previous behavior.

I like to think that stems from the moment he opted against trying to work with Trent—which I think, at its core, was an attempt at such an action. If Caleb had died fighting the Somnovem, he had every reason to believe that Trent would continue in his actions. Though Astrid and Eadwulf were willing to subtly undermine him, they had made it clear that they were not willing to challenge him outright. Caleb tells the Nein, when they are discussing their last wishes at the Blooming Grove before returning to Eiselcross, that he would appreciate Trent being eliminated in the event of his death. I have to believe that there was a fear or regret that his dearest motivations would not come to fruition which spurred his interest in using an alliance with him in Aeor to trap and kill him.

I've mentioned elsewhere that I believe Essek's willingness to disagree with him was one of the factors in Caleb being able to trust him and his judgment, but I would also argue it was a wake-up call for Caleb—about letting himself be distracted; about not focusing in on the mission at hand; about, potentially, expecting failure in this goal, especially after he has watched his friends say their goodbyes as if they too expect to die. "Stay on task, Widogast," is a mantra he uses in Vergessen, but he does get caught up, to an extent, in enacting as much damage as he can to the place in the process, and regardless of whether this ruthless assault slowed or sped their discovery, Trent did catch up to them, and very nearly caught Veth and Jester as well as himself. Given Caleb's fears throughout the campaign that he will draw the danger that dogs him onto his newfound friends, and his later apology to Essek in the same conversation for drawing Trent's attention to him, it is not a stretch to argue that this is yet another guilt he shoulders.

It isn't lost on me that Caleb almost died before the Nein even met, he was perpetually aware of his fragility among the group, and he was the last member of the Nein to go down and need to be revived. So I just think it's very fun if he, who so often seemed to be on the verge of death, who in fact planned to step back in history and in the process erase the person he had become, found himself at some point determined to live, and firmly confident in his ability to do so.

He does not wrap up his affairs, he does not say goodbyes, and while he may acknowledge the stakes for the group, he does not entertain the idea that he personally will not make it out alive—because, as Dorian notes, he has a lot to live for. He has to get back home to his partner and his well-maintained garden; he has to make sure the Cerberus Assembly's nefarious schemes do not continue in Ludinus's absence, perhaps even in the absence of the Assembly itself, depending on what its members do in its wake; he probably has to go egg on his godson's shenanigans as payback for Veth threatening to shoot him out of the sky.

Caleb Widogast is an absolute cockroach of a wizard, and, in true Mighty Nein form, he is at all times thriving on unfinished business.

[kxsagi]

REQUEST IDEA 😼😼🔥🔥‼️

Reader goes on a family trip basically. BUT they bring their s/o. Reader's aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and parents (or just their primary family in general) go to a somewhere for a get together. Could be a summer vacation, a winter skiing trip, an autumn trip outside the country, or anything else. Whichever vibes you want to go for 😋😋.

It's what people I know usually do but they let their kids bring their s/o and their family. So when a lot of the kids already have s/o's, it's gonna get harder and harder to take group photos😅😅. It's when the families are already familiar with each other enough yk.

And I wanna see character and reader's family interactions🔥🔥😋. How'd they interact with their little cousins, how they'd deal with interrogation from family members, how they'd try to win their family's favor, silly shenanigans they'd do with reader while on the trip, etc.

This is alrdy getting pretty long but I have to get this out. Scenario ideas!!! Reader's little cousins go through the character's bag. thats it lol. Embarrassing childhood stories. Interactions between the s/o's. "So what do you do?" conversations and other ppl answer "doctor/lawyer/engineer and other impressive sounding stuff" and the character just answers "...I play soccer" IDKK but it's fine in the end bc ppl probably know who they r. Speaking of, some person in the family fangirling/fanboying over the character bc they're rlly into soccer. NOT NECESSARY TO THE PROMPT THO so ignore this if you want🫶🫶

Any characters really but heh.... rin😼🥶😴😴🥶. Also now that I read over the prompt, this seems sooo Isagi. I don't really have a preferred format so it's up to you🫶. sorry if it's too long lmao 😭😭

“𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐬. 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲”

a/n: i am aware that everyone has different families, but for the sake of making it funny, i made reader’s family pretty chaotic!

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

a/n: rin and sae are on good terms here! (art credits go to 1omya on X)

your family’s idea of a relaxing vacation was flying twelve hours to a quiet countryside villa in italy during peak autumn season, renting out an entire stone estate surrounded by vineyards, and somehow turning it into survivor: family edition. you knew it was going to be chaos the second your aunt asked in the group chat, “should we all bring our significant others?” and thirty messages later, the answer was yes. and that was how rin itoshi ended up in tuscany, standing stiffly in a turtleneck, carrying your pink suitcase like it personally insulted him, and regretting every life choice that led him here. 

“you okay?” you asked sweetly, looping your arm through his as you walked toward the villa. 

“i already hate it here,” he muttered. 

“you say that, but you look cute with the autumn leaves in your hair.” 

he deadpanned, “i’m going to throw myself into a wine barrel.” 

the villa was already buzzing when you arrived. your cousins were running through the vineyard like feral woodland creatures. your mom was yelling at someone to stop touching the antique chandelier. your dad was trying to operate a pizza oven. and your great aunt, who had just discovered the bidet, was giving an enthusiastic tutorial to anyone within earshot. rin looked like he was actively trying to astral project. 

then the interrogations started. 

“so, rin,” said one aunt, sipping her wine with the measured look of someone who professionally judges wine and people. “what do you do?” 

“i’m a soccer player,” rin said flatly. 

“oh, that’s nice,” she said with the tone of someone who thought that meant he coached toddlers. 

“professionally,” he added. “in europe.” 

someone at the table choked on a breadstick. 

“wait,” your cousin whispered, eyes wide. “wait. rin. rin itoshi?” 

“unfortunately,” he muttered, already sensing what was coming. 

“NO WAY. I FOLLOW YOUR FAN ACCOUNT,” they yelled, which immediately summoned a second cousin from across the villa who screeched “I HAVE HIS JERSEY SIGNED” and a third who appeared out of the hedges, clutching a soccer ball like a talisman. 

and that’s how rin was cornered at the dinner table, being grilled about world cup stats by three cousins and your aunt, who suddenly “remembered watching him play against spain.” meanwhile, another cousin was secretly filming him from behind a wine bottle like a biologist observing a rare animal. 

you leaned over and whispered, “having fun yet?” 

“your cousin just asked if i’d sign her forehead.” 

“you should. she said she’d tattoo it.” 

he blinked. “what the hell is wrong with your family?” 

“genetics.” 

somewhere in the chaos, your little cousins broke into his room and started going through his suitcase. you walked in on them holding his designer jacket like it was a relic from a museum. one of them tried to wear it. it reached the floor. another was snooping through his skincare bag. 

“what is this?” they asked, holding up his eye cream. 

“expensive,” he said, snatching it back. “put it down before i cry.” 

honestly, you were impressed with how he didn’t immediately flee to the airport. sure, he was grumpy 85% of the time and muttered threats like “i will fake my death and disappear into the hills,” but he also helped your cousin pick olives off the trees. he taught your younger cousin how to juggle a soccer ball and got way too into it. and when your grandma cornered him with a glass of homemade limoncello and asked if he loved you, he answered without hesitation. 

“yeah,” he said. “i do.” 

you didn’t hear it firsthand, but your grandma told everyone at breakfast. you couldn’t look at him without smirking. he threatened to put you in the pizza oven. 

rin’s family arrived a few days into the trip, and the contrast was hilarious. his mom was quiet and sweet, immediately bringing you a scarf she knitted and complimenting your italian. his brother sae showed up in sunglasses like he was there to cause problems on purpose. 

“yo,” sae said, sitting next to your dad. “you know your daughter’s out of rin’s league, right?” 

rin almost choked on his wine. 

somehow, the itoshis blended in perfectly. his mom and your mom started a wine club (which was just them drinking and ranking cheeses). his dad and your uncle bonded over espresso. sae teamed up with your cousin to build a bonfire that was technically illegal. someone’s dog peed on the vineyard. rin started drinking espresso like water. you weren’t sure if it was for the caffeine or emotional support. 

one night, after a chaotic dinner involving three languages, a spilled lasagna, and your aunt accidentally texting the wrong rin her apple strudel recipe (a kid in osaka got it), you pulled him aside into the garden. 

the moonlight lit the leaves gold. the air smelled like wine and pine and the burnt crust of whatever your uncle put in the pizza oven this time. you leaned on the railing. he stood next to you, arms crossed. 

“you survived,” you said. 

“barely.” 

“but you didn’t hate it?” 

he glanced at you. “your cousin asked if i was gonna propose.” 

you grinned. “and what did you say?” 

“… i said not with her watching.” 

you laughed, eyes crinkling. he looked at you like you hung the moon. 

“you really love me, huh?” you teased. 

he rolled his eyes. “you’re lucky you’re hot.” 

“so lucky.” 

and then, because it was your family and nothing was sacred, someone threw a wine cork at you from the balcony and yelled “GET MARRIED ALREADY!” 

you both turned. 

rin shouted back, “MIND YOUR BUSINESS.” 

you? you just laughed. because honestly? this was already better than any fairytale. just rin, your ridiculous family, and the chaos that made life sweet.

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

a/n: art credits go to jyauii on X

you weren’t really sure what possessed you to bring isagi yoichi to your family’s yearly summer beach trip. maybe it was because your little cousins had been bugging you about your mysterious soccer boyfriend for months. maybe it was because your mom asked a little too sweetly if “yoichi could come, if he’s free, we’d love to have him.” or maybe it was because you wanted to see if he could survive your family’s unique brand of chaos. turns out? the man’s got survivor instincts. 

you’d barely parked the car before one of your younger cousins launched himself at isagi like a heat-seeking missile, declaring a wrestling match to establish dominance. “he’s testing you,” you said, deadpan, while isagi politely got tackled into the sand. 

“i think he wins,” isagi wheezed, pinned under a four-foot-tall ball of energy. 

the beach house was packed. like, “how did we pass the fire code” packed. your family didn’t just vacation, they migrated. aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, family friends, and that one mysterious extra person no one ever explained, everyone was here. and now, so was isagi, wearing his nicest shorts, polo shirt, and a hopeful smile, completely unaware that he was about to be questioned like a man on trial. 

your mom greeted him with a hug. your dad sized him up. your aunt took one look and whispered, “he looks polite. that’s suspicious.” you gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. “good luck,” you whispered. “they smell fear.” 

he handled it pretty well, all things considered. by the time dinner rolled around, he was already holding a baby in one arm and flipping burgers with the other, like some sort of domestic action hero. your grandma called him “helpful.” your uncle called him “a decent enough guy, for someone who wears ankle socks.” 

but of course, the moment of truth came during the infamous family dinner interrogation, where your relatives ask everyone under 40 what they do for a living, purely to judge silently afterward. 

“so, yoichi,” one of your uncles began, already swirling a glass of wine like a villain, “what is it that you do?” 

“i play soccer,” isagi replied, like a fool. silence. 

“for a local team?” another asked, squinting. 

“… i play professionally. in germany.” 

your aunt blinked. “for which team?” 

“bayern munchen.” 

a beat. then your cousin, who’d been silently scrolling under the table like a short-attention span ipad kid, let out a strangled squeak and went, “NO FREAKING WAY. YOU’RE ISAGI YOICHI? I HAVE YOUR FIFA CARD.” and that was that. 

it was over. 

your uncle’s wine glass trembled slightly. your younger cousins screamed. your grandma, bless her, just nodded and said, “ah. so he’s on television.” she then resumed eating her grilled fish like nothing happened. 

you could see the shift. suddenly, your relatives weren’t just tolerating isagi, they were trying to impress him. your cousin who once called soccer “just people kicking balls around” was now pretending he’d always been a diehard fan. your aunt googled how to say “go, isagi!” in german. your uncle who played a little in college suddenly decided it was time to “kick the ol’ ball around again,” which ended in him tripping over a cooler and blaming the sand. 

later that night, your younger cousins raided your shared suitcase and found a photo album his mom had secretly slipped in “for memories.” mistake. big mistake. 

“LOOK AT BABY YOICHI!” one cousin yelled, holding up a photo of isagi with his signature ahoge and bright yellow rain boots, pouting dramatically at the camera. “WHY IS HE CRYING HERE?” 

“his cake had no frosting,” you explained solemnly. “dark day.” 

another cousin flipped to a picture of him sleeping with a soccer ball clutched to his chest. “i’m gonna send this to my group chat.” 

“i’m being blackmailed by children,” isagi mumbled. 

you kissed his cheek. “you’re doing great, love.” 

honestly, he kind of was. he helped the kids build a sandcastle shaped like a turtle, he got tricked into joining a beach volleyball game where the ball hit him in the face twice, and he somehow ended up in a conga line started by your aunt after two piña coladas. it was beautiful. and terrifying. 

then his parents showed up. 

his mom brought handmade onigiri for everyone, which instantly won the hearts of your entire extended family. his dad complimented your dad’s grilling technique, which led to them bonding over charcoal like long-lost brothers. the two families mingled like this was the summer crossover event of the year. your mom and his mom were already planning a joint potluck. your grandma offered his dad a homemade remedy for back pain that involved vinegar and prayer. someone suggested a badminton match that turned into an all-out olympic-level war. it was perfect. 

as the night wound down and the fire pit crackled, you and isagi found a quiet moment alone by the shore. the moonlight glinted off the waves. laughter echoed from the deck behind you. you kicked off your shoes and sighed. 

“that was… a lot,” you said, leaning into him. 

“you think your uncle’s gonna send me that photo of me covered in ketchup?” he asked softly. 

“he said he’s using it as your contact picture.” 

he groaned and let his forehead fall against your shoulder. 

“yoichi?” 

“mm?” 

“thanks for coming.” 

he smiled into your skin. “you kidding? i’d survive a thousand uncles if it means getting to do this with you.” 

you grinned. “you really like me, huh?” 

“more than soccer.” 

“liar.” 

“… equal to soccer.” 

you nodded, satisfied. “i’ll take it.” 

and as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, sand between your toes and half your family plotting a family soccer tournament with him as the coach, you thought yeah. this was gonna be one hell of a vacation. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[kiyzukiy]

Cat distribution system

Sypnosis: Caleb? A cat. You? None the wiser, but you have a stinky cat now so how about give him a bath? Nothing could go wrong, right?

Tags: CalebxReader, fun, Cat!Caleb, reader is not MC, self-aware!Caleb?, Caleb in our world

A/N: And I'm back again! This one is a bit shorter than the starter, but I hope you still like it. As usual cat shenanigans. That's it. I've also implemented a taglist now, so anyone who wants to get peeping hot updates hit me up! :3

Word count: 3,9k

<<previous || next >>

divider by me

Lost in your thoughts if you really should name a cat that you probably have to give away again, you didn’t notice the squirming cat on your thighs. Was it a wise choice? Probably not. If you gave it a silly name was it easier to give it away again? Like the ones they give the animals in a shelter. Dave, the magical cheese wizard or something. You also thought about giving it a meaningful name like “hope” or something along the lines. 

You only got disrupted by your sense of smell. Jesus Christ, was that you? No. You were forgetting something very important here, you were sure of it. Raising up your arms so you could smell your clothes, you wanted to facepalm yourself the very next second. The cat. Where did you find it? That's right. In a dumpster. Oh your fucking god. 

Amused about your own stupidity you shook your head. You really were tired and your mind was barely even in survival mode. 

A tinge of guilt and shame hit your system. So immersed in yourself, you totally forgot that you picked up a cat on your way home and just did what you usually did. Playing Love and Deepspace for an hour and then making food as soon as motivation found your body again. It was a simple way to unwind. Clearing your head in a way and let you focus again as soon as your little me time was over. The true dangers of a routine, and what didn’t help your already offline mind was that cat quickly made your space to its new home. It surprised you that cat didn’t dive head first for a spot to hide after your small walk. You thoroughly expected that reaction as it was the default for any animal. Hide, checking out the stranger, gauging the threat and then maybe trying to form a relationship. 

Not your friendly buddy of a cat right here though. Would you have any brain cells left to use critical thinking, you also would wonder about the high intelligence the cat a moment prior showed. How knowingly it moved it’s paws to go to “falling for you”, watching what it saw as if it understood the scene that played. 

Once more ripped the stench you out of your thoughts. Cat however didn't seem to be bothered to be covered in grime and everything a street had to offer. Its fur caked together and a smell emitting you wished you could just dose it in a febreze bottle. 

“Alright. No name for you yet, buddy. First a bath”, you said and scooped the cat up. 

This time around the cat was not happy to be picked up. As soon as it wasn't on your legs anymore and near the tablet, cat began to yell and squirm in your arms like the devil was after it. 

“I know, I know. Cat’s can bathe themselves and get clean but this is only once. I promise”, tried to soothe it and held it a bit tighter. 

Cat didn't want to listen to you, it seemed like. Was it this against getting cleaned? Well, you did know cats usually didn't like water and maybe something bad happened to this cat with it. Rain and no shelter would be enough to avoid any kind of water, you think. Just for being in the safe, you closed the bathroom door behind you. No escape until this cat didn't smell like a drunk puked on it. 

________ 

First up? A good call from you to take a bath. He did feel disgusting. Slowly the sensation of sticky dirt and grime spread all over his body, and he too couldn't stand the smell anymore. What even was in that dumpster? Couldn’t he have woken up in a recycling bin rather than in a trash dumpster with whatever that was inside? 

Would he make it easy for you though? Hell no, he wanted answers and for you to figure out that the character you tried to gain affinity for and he was one and the same. That is what is most important here, right now. 

As soon as you scooped him up, he started to complain. Ranging from a simple “let me down, I can walk” over a few demands and maybe one insult but he would rather die than admit that. The next thing he heard was you trying to convince him that it wasn’t even that bad and he knew. Caleb knew it wasn’t that bad, that it was necessary even but he was stressed. Confused. Angry and frustrated. Agitated and for once in his life, he didn’t know what was going on. Back at the experiments as a child, even then, he had a sliver of understanding as to why certain things happened. This shit right here? No clue. A mission, blackout and boom: Cat. If he ever would be honest with himself? He wanted to cry. It was all too much, all too overwhelming. He just got it all back. MC found him again, they slowly were in the making of a new relationship and now this? He almost had it all back. 

The ash brown cat heard a lock falling into place. Oh no. His eyes and thoughts focusing back to reality that was about to unfurl. No, wait. Bathing? Him? You? You were going to bathe him? The realisation hit him like a freight train. He begged your finest pardon? No. The answer was no. Yes, it was necessary but he could do it on his own. No help needed. He was not a cat. He was. Not. A. Cat! No matter that he sported paws right now. He could make it work. He was a man and last time he checked, he was neither a child nor were you his mother that could warrant this treatment! 

You placed him on the ground again. Cold tiles beneath his paws and he had to watch you what could only be described as his personal doom: adjusting water. 

Ey! Leave! He can shower on his own! Ears flattening against his skull, he let out a growl. 

“Alright mister, no need to hiss at me. It's not my fault you ended up like that”, you said absentmindedly with a little laughter in your voice. You weren't even looking in his direction. But, oh a smile on your pretty lips. 

Caleb, in the back of his mind, did understand that you were doing your best as a person caring for a new found pet. If he would just take a deep breath and do what he usually did, that was seeing his opponent out of their eyes, he wouldn’t act this way but emotions were clouding his judgement so he did what he never did: letting them roll. Enraged at your unfitting response, he ended up nipping you in the heel.

“Ow! What the fuck? What was that for?”, with a look full of judgement you looked down at him. “I’m helping you here, you know?”

Serves you right, he meowed and huffed. 

“Not so friendly anymore, huh?”, you chuckled and shook your head in amusement. In the back of his field of vision he saw you turning the water off. Clearly satisfied with the temperature. 

Bold of you to assume that I’m friendly to begin with, he hissed. Not that he expected you to understand that. 

You now fully turned to him and got on your haunches. A hand slowly crept towards him. Inching closer to brush once more over his fur. Soothing, calming, trying to convince him.

“You really need a bath though, so don’t make this difficult for the both of us, yeah?”, you said and looked at him with a pleading look. 

Oh, game on. He will make you regret this. For picking him up on end, like he was some kind of plushie and not having a telepathic evol. Not that any of that was your fault. Was he petty? Childish? Probably, but he was frustrated and with no one but you to vent it on, this was almost too easy. 

Caleb let out a huff. Fed up with you touching him without asking and the height difference that made his neck harden. No wonder you didn’t take him seriously that much. Who would when a smudgy little being that only could hiss and meow showed an act of defiance that was born out of pure spite?

With a flittering look he spotted the next best thing to remedy this temporary issue. In quick succession he was on the bathroom sink and sat down. Now he was looking down on your hunched over form. Your move now.

“Oho? Is this how you wanna play?”, you said as you got up from your position on the bathroom tiles. “Buddy, if you don't go on your own I have no issues to grab you by the scruff and hold you beneath the water. A good little water boarding session would do your new found attitude some good.”

You tried to sound earnest but he saw the mirth in your eyes and the mischievous smirk building on your lips. Still, he kept sitting. Buddy, as if. You were all bark and no bite.

“Have it your way then”, your hand darted out. 

Nah, you wouldn't dare. 

Ey! No! 

He dashed away and just barely missed your hand that was straight going forthe back of his neck.

His escape route was right into the shower bed. Urgh, now his feet were wet. It felt more like stepping into water with socks on. This sensation did not spark joy. One dip and the next jump was right out of the shower again, a few hurried pitter patter taps and onto the toilet seat.

“Mister! Get back here!”

Nuh uh! You are crazy! Don't dare to remind him that he actually went with you to get clean. This objective clearly missing in his mind as he was hellbend of avoiding your hand that was rather good in trying to catch him. Making him work up a sweat. Just barely did he dodge your hand once more that reached for him and onto the sink shelf he went. If he could stick out his tongue, he would. Actually? Why not, he did stick out his tongue at you. 

“Oh you think you are so smart, mister fancy pants”, you said, slightly out of breath. “Just you wait.”

Try me, he meowed, his playful character seeping through. Like a predator lying in wait, you assessed if he would move again. He did the very same. A silent stand-off ensued. Who would move first? Could he hide somewhere? Would you reach out obviously again? 

In his moment of distraction he saw your hand too late out of the corner of his eye and the next thing he felt was your hand steadfast on his scruff. 

“Aha!”, you celebrated triumphant. “Got you!”

Ah, well fought. He yields, but only because it wasn’t worth it to prolong the inevitable further. Your blinding smile to your victory and cute giggle in your voice, might have helped him as well. Caleb came to terms with the fact that you would help him take his first shower in this body. The ash brown cat also had to admit that it was funny to play catch it with you. It took his mind away from the disconnecting mess of information that he still needs to process. For a bit he was just himself again.

Cautiously you put your hand on his hind legs and picked him up. Steady grip that was strong enough so he couldn’t struggle but not enough to hurt. You set him down in the shower and he almost immediately jumped out again. The feeling of wet socks shoots up in him once more and for a split second he wanted to dip. Nah, fuck this. 

“No. Stay”, you said with a stern voice and pressed his ass down in the shower. Ouh! Even worse! That’s like sitting down on a bench you didn’t know was wet. 

I can stand!, he complained. Your grip not loosing up in return. 

“Yes, yes. Water. I know. You got this.”

He definitely didn’t. Caleb's body was screaming at him to move and get rid of these sensations. You try to be a cat and he would force you to go through with this. You can bet your fine ass that he wouldn’t be so nice about it though. 

He sighed. Maybe he should be a bit more kinder to you. Disregarding the conflict in his mind that, yes. He could, should and it probably would make this all easier. On the other side, why? You are a stranger. Basically kidnapped him (no, he wouldn't elaborate that he coaxed you into taking him with you) and made threats to harm him. A stranger he would leave behind as soon as he got his answers and could go back to his universe.

The ash brown cat heard the water turning up again. The hand on his neck never leaving. Merciful you faced the spray away from him. He half expected a full on face splash for his little stunt he just pulled and you following through with your promise you made earlier. 

“Just how did you end up this way?”, you mused to yourself more than him. Honey, if only he knew. The meaning in more ways than one. 

The water gently sprayed his paws first and then his whole body. The light flow of the water was like a breath of fresh air. Calming and soothing, it washed away the sood and dirt in his otherwise pristine fur. As well as in his mind. Back to logically and rationally thinking about his situation.

All he could do was meow at you to make you see that he listened.

“Yeah, not helping much buddy. I don't understand cat”, you giggled and put a bit of shampoo in your hands. 

Again this buddy. For crying out loud, stop calling him that. He was not your friend nor a good acquaintance you could call that! 

In retaliation he bit your hand that was about to lather him up in soap. Immediate regret greeted his taste buds and you just laughed harder. 

“Suits you right. Bite me one more time, mister”, you grinned as you quickly went through his fur and got the sticky dirt out. Carefully and with a lot of probing, squeezing together and combing your finger through his fur you managed to make it smooth again. The flooring of the shower started to get coloured in a disgusting brown and grey. Small pebbles falling off of him. 

All through it, Caleb stood still. His body relaxing, him just letting you do what you have to do. The feeling of wet clothes leaving as soon as the water hit his skin and god damn, you were good at massages. He didn't realise how beaten up his body was and stiff in some places. This was heaven. 

Out of his control, he began to purr. 

“That's the good shit, huh?”, you said in a hushed voice, your hands still getting out knots without making it hurt.

Caleb nodded to your statement. This was really it. Water hit his body once more, a little bit warmer this time around.

“Alright, mister. One more time and then you are free.” 

Whatever you say, woman. He could just die right now. The ash brown cat wouldn't mind. He was in bliss. Your expert fingers making him forget that he actually still needed a way to tell you who he is and getting answers. 

This time a different shampoo made him bubbly. Slowly he opened his eyes, only to be hit by your hands on either side of his cheeks. Holding his face so tenderly like he was made out of glass. When was the last time he got hold like this? Like he was the most precious thing the earth could grace? 

“Hey there, big guy”, you smiled and slowly rubbed his face with your thumbs. Getting it also cleaned. “You truly have beautiful eyes.” 

Caleb breath got stuck in his throat. Uh…back off? A bit too close for comfort. Hello? Uh? 

A bit flustered he tried to move his head away but you gently turned it back to you.

“No, you need a handsome face too. Come here”, you said and returned back to gently rubbing his cheeks and lathering up his head. 

“Yeah, there you go. Look at you. Such a handsome fella.” 

Just how many compliments have you given him? He was used to having women and men alike salivating after him, but straight out compliments? It made him short circuit. 

Once more water washed over him. This time his face as well. Looking out for his ears and eyes you washed the foam away. The water stopped and a quick kiss was pressed to the crown of his head. What? 

“Wait here, mister”, he somehow registered you say. Was this violation? Assaulting, or did he like it? More confusion entered his brain. Breathing, he should be breathing. 

Moments later he felt the fluffy feeling of a towel upon him. Gently but steady you patted him dry. Sometimes ruffling to get friction into his fur to get more water out. After a while you seemed satisfied with your drying off, so you got up again and he out of the shower. 

Exhaustion tackled away the state of relaxation in him. The stark contrast of the humified, warm air in the shower and now being out of it made his small body shiver. Closing his eyes, he listened for what you are doing. Clinking and a few things got pushed aside, a cupboard opened and closed somewhere to his left. Not much later you were back in front of him. 

“Hm, is someone getting tired?”, you asked in a soft voice and with a hand full of affection stroked along his cheek.

Yeah, you could say that. The experiences, happenings, tumultuous feelings from today finally caught up with him. 

“Come on, buddy. I don’t know how much you like a blow dryer but you need to be properly dry before you get sick”, you explained. 

Mh okay…it made Caleb remember the times he gave the same treatment to MC. He wanted to laugh that he was the receiving end today. No one before even tried to attempt to do it for him. 

With no fight left in him, he let himself get picked up tenderly and placed on the bathroom sink. The whirring of the blow dryer starting soon after. Warm air washed over him, his eyes still closed. Just let him have this moment. This moment of care and tenderness, of not worrying for a bit, carefree maybe. For once not the one doing it all on his own. 

“You are such a handsome balinese cat. The audacity to hide that, hm?”, you said in between. “Now your owners will recognise you.”

Sorry to tell you, princess. There will be no owners but regardless did he appreciate your care. Your help. 

A balinese cat? That’s what he turned into? Interesting. This universe right here had an ironic sense of humor. Balinese cats were usually affectionate and playful. Things Caleb only was with his childhood friend. The only one he truly was close to. 

Your hands left his body and he was dry again. Caleb was now as fluffy as the towel you dried him off with. He could only assume you were putting away the blow dryer. Would he dare to look? Look at himself in this form? Maybe he would wake up then and he could laugh about it with MC, what a fucked up dream he had. 

So he turned to the mirror in front of the sink. An ash brown cat stared back at him. Black ears, whiskers and a black out right arm. The other three paws were also black, as the signature of a balinese cat. In his black face glimmered his own violet eyes he saw countless times before. Shining with the same intensity in lavender hues, strong blue lilac tones and the splatter of gold at the bottom. 

Ah, so it’s real. He is a cat. This is how you saw him. A pretty little kitty with full, soft fur and an even fluffier tail to accompany him with. 

He saw you approach in the mirror and he knew what was coming. He was getting picked up again, right? Okay, let's get it over with.

“Do you recognise yourself in the mirror?”, you wondered out loud. Mh duh, obviously. Caleb watched you stretching your back. A crack sounded through the bathroom and you let out a groan. Yo, you good there?

In these few seconds you sounded and looked a lot older than you were and Caleb blamed the exhaustion you must feel yourself. The spirit you showed earlier in trying to catch him must have drained all your energy you had left and Caleb respected you a bit for that. Fighting for what you assumed your responsibility. He let out a small laugh inwardly. Amused by his own actions and letting you see what normally was reserved for only one person.

“Alright, I leave you alone now, my brave fighter”, you smiled tiredly at him. “Gotta make some food.”

Huh? Okay...then...? Thanks?

Caleb inspected him for a few minutes more. Baffled and astonished with his new body. Would he become human again? Could he become human in this world? Would he only return to normal when he went back? How could he go back? Would you even know? You seemed ordinary. Living a simple life with a small reprieve in a game he was unfortunate to appear in. 

He sighed and patted after you. 

The rest of the evening flew past rather uneventful. Caleb thanked the gods that you didn’t have cat food immediately at home. Otherwise he would have started the next fight. Instead you served him some grinded beef with an egg in it. Raw, might he add but he chose against it to get angry at it. For you he was a cat. For now, he would let you believe it as well. But as soon as tomorrow came his plan would start. 

First he would test out if he still got his evol in this world. If he could manage that, he could show you how he manipulated certain things and that would be enough to understand that he was no simple cat or a cat at all for that matter. If he didn’t have his evol? Well, then he needed to find another way. No more blindly tapping on tablets and charade games. Clear and no misunderstandings for you. Caleb would make it crystal clear that he was himself. 

Something that did happen that evening that blew the wind out of his sails was, that you decided actually, for a fact, for real, to name him…Caleb. 

“I mean, you do have his eyes, you know?”, you explained your reasoning. “And if and when I find your owners you get your old name back anyway. It’s not like you will get used to it, right buddy?”

Count him flabberghasted, in utter disbelief. Didn’t you earlier in the evening say yourself, that this would be an awful idea? That you would have to be very lonely to be even considering that? Don’t lie to him. He remembers word for word. 

“Nobody would know that it comes from a otome game”, you rambled on. “And it’s not like you would mind.”

Does he? Caleb was conflicted. Yes, no, maybe? On one hand, yes it’s his name. The name he got. The one he was born with, and on the other hand? You didn’t see that name as anything more than from a character you liked. In the end, he accepted your name choice. One step at the time, right? He got the name down, now he needed everything else. 

The whole funny side with this rather ridiculous turn of your both lives was: 

You both needed each other, you just don’t know it yet.

tag list: @bookworrm1999 ; @luna-looniesblog ; @dummiebunny @roscpctals99 ; @mcdepressed290

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Hey and welcome back to this story. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Any feedback is always appriciated, as long as it's constructive.

Thank you, beautiful soul for reading <3

[cosmica-galaxy]

What if the cookies in our kingdom were clones of the original cookies in CRK?

Like...the Cookies in our kingdom were actually just clones of the original Cookies from the story that we baked ourselves and the kingdom itself is like a mysterious place in between time and space that we, as the true ruler, have complete control over it? It's strange but... Hear me out.

Like, that would explain the timeline issues (like pure vanilla meeting his future self or dark choco fighting himself ect) and the items that you can make appear in the kingdom, like the Hollyberry palace or the Dark Cacao altar for the DEAD SOLDIERS OF THAT KINGDOM. Can you imagine how eerie it would be for a visiting cookie that hails from a faraway kingdom to come to a brand new kingdom and see an EXACT copy of something from their homeland? That's some cosmic horror-level shit right there. Plus, the "cloned" cookies of the altered cookie kingdom are aware of your presence. Their "baker" (or just simply known as "them"). They adore you and hail you as the ruler, as well as praise you for making them strong and for caring for their every need (wishes, food, homes, decorations, ect). You cater to their every need and make them stronger by giving them soul candies or ascending them with soulstones. If the members of your kingdom met with the "true" cookies of the storyline, they would be flabbergasted by the sheer strength that their copies show. Imagine the main group consisting of Gingerbrave, Strawberry, and Wizard cookie meeting their stronger counterparts that have slight variations to them to help them stand out. Like markings or "their" (our) symbol on their doughs to let us know who our true copy is. Plus, they are STRONG. Like, basic story powered cookies get steamrolled by the clones and it frightens the cookies. Let alone how they sound EXACTLY like them and behave like them too. Except they keep mentioning a "baker" or "them".

I imagine that the Ancients are terrified of their cloned counterparts, As not only are they stronger, they are also AWAKENED just like them in the storyline. THEY ALSO HAVE THEIR OWN SOULJAMS. Plus, their underlings will be present as well, and fighting alongside each other that isn't normal in the story. Like "cloned" Dark Cacao fighting with his "cloned" son by his side that is far stronger than the normal Dark Choco Cookie. That's not all. Like, can you imagine the "cloned" beast cookies meeting the beasts from the true story timeline (excluding alternate difficulties, we're just talking about basic story mode here)? Can you imagine if you have ascended them multiple times, gave them their themed toppings, and maxed out their stats? The battle would be night and day.

Like...the clones from the Baker's Kingdom would absolutely beat the SHIT out of the story-mode beasts if they ever crossed paths...but they probably already have if you unlocked the beasts before starting/finishing their respective story arcs. A Shadow Milk Cookie with unique markings, same with the others, just wailing on the resurrected beasts from the story, and all the beasts can do is be puzzled at HOW there are two of themselves. But, once the battle is over and all their foes are defeated, the group just suddenly...leave. They fulfill their purpose and "they" (us) calls them back to the Altered Cookie Kingdom. I just think this would be a really cool idea. The baker's cookies vs the normal cookies, and how they don't share the same entity. Because, lets be real, how would ANYONE convince a beast cookie to do labor or something else for a Kingdom they don't care about? What prevents them from misbehaving or lashing out? This is just my take on trying to explain the multiple cookies and the timeline shenanigans that one can see throughout the game with the right cookies... Who knows? Maybe I'll doodle what I imagine the "cloned" superior versions of the "normal cookies" would look like. Maybe I will even dabble with the idea and write a oneshot about it. It's just interesting to me, personally. Thanks for reading my silly idea! <: )

[thatbuddie]

May i request kingdon for this prompt from the aus bc im a sucker for these 🫶 thank you!!!

we get seated next to each other on a delayed flight AU

“Do you…” Mel hesitates, not wanting to be rude. Her question floats in the air for a few seconds, unfinished but not entirely dead.

She bites her bottom lip, watching as the little boy holds one of his shoes over his head as the man tries to fasten his seatbelt over his tiny body while the toddler’s arms do their best at trying to strangle the life out of who Mel imagines must be the kids’s father. 

“Tanner, buddy,” the man on the seat next to her says as the boy on the aisle seat moves the shoe in the air while making airplane noises with his mouth, “I need you to stop moving for five seconds. You need to wear your seatbelt.”

For a glorious second, the boy —Tanner— stills. The man leans over him to close the clasp of his seatbelt. Everything seems to finally be going right. Which is, of course, when one of the toddler’s little arms moves and bumps into Tanner’s hand, making him drop his shoe to the floor.

“My plane!” He says, bending down to reach for it, bumping his forehead against the man’s. Tanner is completely unbothered by this, as he is now on his very important mission to retrieve his shoe slash plane from the space in front of his seat. 

The man, however, brings the palm of his hand up to his forehead as he straightens in his seat, his other arm staying wrapped around the toddler’s body. 

“Fu— Fudge me,” the man says, his palm moving in circles over the spot Tanner’s forehead must have hit him. 

The toddler —who Mel can now better see is a little girl— finds all of this hilarious and she begins giggling as she brings her hand up to rest against the back of the man’s, moving it in uncoordinated circles as if copying the man. 

“Thanks, Paige, you’re so sweet. What a princess, ” the man says, still obviously in pain but smiling down at the girl —Paige— as she grins toothily back at him. 

“Princess Paige,” the girl says, or well, Mel figures that’s what she says, as her enunciation of words is still not perfect. Mel doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with it, even though speech pathology and speech development are not her areas of expertise, it’s just that in Mel’s estimations the girl must be between 26 and 32 months which makes her pronunciation quite typical for toddlers her age. 

“Princess Paige,” the man says to her as he bounces her, which means either Mel interpreted Paige’s words correctly or her and the man just made the same mistake. Mel figures it must be the former option, as if he really is the kid’s father he probably has a lot of practice in deciphering her words. 

In the short amount of time between the head bump and Princess Paige’s coronation, Tanner must have grown tired of futilely reaching for his dropped shoe, because he is now brandishing his other sneaker in his hand, this time making different noises as he swings it around.

“Tanner,” the man groans. “Please, stop playing airplane for a second and let me fasten your seatbelt so this very real airplane can take off.”

“It’s a helicopter, Daddy,” Tanner says as he thrusts his shoe at him, almost hitting Paige on the nose with it. She must be really used to the shenanigans because she only blinks at him and repeats, “Helicopter!” enthusiastically back, albeit a lot less clearly than the older child. 

“Oh for the love of—”

“Do you need help?”

The question has escaped Mel’s lips before she is even aware she has asked it. 

She is not ready when the man’s eyes firmly settle on hers. They’re blue, so blue she feels a little bit dizzy as she looks into them, like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down at the water below, inviting and dangerous all at once. They’re beautiful and unsettling and wide and… Blue. So blue.

The man blinks. She blinks back. The man blinks again. She swallows. 

“Do you need help?” she asks again, even if just to break the weird silence that has settled between them.

“So I didn’t imagine you saying that,” the man says. 

She frowns and shakes her head. She didn’t think the bump of Tanner’s forehead against the man’s had been that forceful, but if he is wondering whether he is experiencing hallucinations maybe she should be more concerned that a possible concussion occurred.

“I just…” Again, she doesn’t want to be rude, so she is careful with the words she chooses. “I thought maybe I could do something to make things easier for you right now.”

The man’s mouth hangs halfway open as he looks at her, and there’s something Mel can’t read in his face that still overwhelms her. 

“You don’t have to—”

The man doesn’t let her finish her sentence and decidedly hands her the little girl. 

“Here you go,” he says after Mel has carefully wrapped her arm around the girl’s tiny body as she sits on Mel’s lap contently. “This is Paige.”

“Hi, Princess Paige,” Mel says, and Paige bounces on her lap as she turns her head to smile at Mel. Her chin has a cute little round dimple that Mel immediately bops. 

When she raises her eyes, the children's dad is staring at her intently again. As Mel’s eyes roam over his face, she notices a twin dimple on the man’s chin. His is more prominent and somehow just as adorable as his two year old daughter’s.

Shame that Mel can’t bop it in turn. 

The man shakes his head and turns towards his son, who has stopped flying his shoe around and is now looking in Mel’s direction. 

“And this is Tanner,” the man says, finally able to fasten the boy’s seatbelt. 

Tanner waves his shoe at her. “We’re on a plane.”

Mel laughs lightly and nods. “We are on a plane, yes.”

“I love planes,” Tanner says, extending the O in the world love for an entire second. 

“Oh, we know, buddy,” his dad says from his position bent down to the floor as he seems to search for Tanner’s dropped shoe. He makes a triumphant noise and moves to sit down properly on his seat again, Tanner’s show secured in one of his hands.

“What’s your name?” Tanner asks and Mel startles at the question, through she shouldn’t. 

“I’m Mel.” She extends her arm over the man’s seat to offer her hand out to Tanner, who giggles and shakes it with as much enthusiasm as she knew he would but a lot more strength than she expected. 

Mel feels a tug on one of her two braids, her attention pulled down towards Paige again. 

“Princess Mel,” Paige says, her hand fisted firmly around the end of Mel’s braid. 

“Oh wow,” Mel laughs, feeling her cheeks redden over such a small comment. “A princess? I’m not sure about that.”

Paige tugs on Mel’s braid again, but then quickly turns back to her father, reaching out with her free hand, saying, “Daddy, water.”

The man quickly hands her a purple sippy cup that Paige grabs by a handle. “Here you go.”

Content with her water and probably her whole entire toddler life, Paige reclines against Mel, resting head on Mel’s chest as she closes her eyes and sighs. 

“Oops,” the man says, appearing sheepish when Mel turns her head carefully as to not jostle Paige to look at him. “I might have trapped you in this position for the next 2 hours of this flight now.”

The idea should make Mel feel uncomfortable and protective of her space and time. Instead, she relaxes back into her seat, feeling Paige’s breaths deepen as she falls asleep.

“It’s alright,” she says. “I offered to help and I meant it.”

The man’s mouth hangs open once again, and though it is possible he has some sort of mouth breathing issue, she is starting to recognize something akin to surprise in the way he looks at her. Wonder, even. 

She likes it. She really likes it when he looks at her like this. 

“What’s your name?” she asks, echoing Tanner’s words from before. 

“Frank.”

They don’t shake hands. They just look at each other. She bites the inside of her cheek as Frank tilts his head to the side, his eyes never once moving away from hers.  

“So tell me, Mel.” The way he says her name makes her fingertips tingle and her breath catch in her throat. “What is bringing you to Pittsburgh?”

“It’s home.”

“Well, would you look at that,” he says, his smile growing, “It is home for us too.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi again! I keep getting random thoughts about the bat boys. Going up to the bat boys in their clothes and cuddling with them. ♥️🖤🦋

Dick

Dick immediately reciprocated the hug the moment he saw you reach out to him, smiling brightly as he burrows his head into your shoulder, only to smell faint traces of his own cologne as he realised that you were wearing his hoodie.

‘You’re stealing from me now? After all I do for you.’ Dick gasps and you couldn’t help but giggle at his dramatics as you pinch his side, causing him to yelp a little. ‘Here I thought you’d get obsessed with me wearing your clothes but I guess wrong and should probably take it off now-‘ you teased as you tried to pull away from dick, only for him to pull you back into his embrace.

‘No.’ Dick cuts you off. ‘Keep in on as long as you like but don’t be surprised if I try to burrow my way under there like you did out of the blue.’ He adds teasingly, genuinely loving moments like these and feeling blessed to have you in his life to keep blessing him with moments like these on the regular.

‘I shall take my chances.’ You replied playfully as your hand reached up and your fingers ran through his hair in a soothing manor. ‘I couldn’t let a hoodie of this calibre go unworn.’ You add.

‘At least the hoodie knows it’s being loved by both its parents.’ Dick joked as he rubbed your back.

‘Very loved.’ You joined in on his shenanigans like you always did. You loved these small, meaningful moments between the two do you, as while they were few and far in between due to his work, they were more then worth the wait as it only made the moments all the more sweeter. ‘Love you dickie bean.’ You murmur in his ear, kissing his shoulder and feeling him sigh in relief.

‘Love you too baby.’ Dick replied as he hold you tighter and just at your feet sat Hayley, who was looking up at the two of you and whine, causing you both to laugh as you looked at her. ‘We love you too Hayley, very, very much.’ Dick adds as he used a hand to scratch her behind the ear. Moments like these were dick’s favourite for a reason and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Jason

The moment Jason felt you hug him from behind, he was quick to notice the familiar burgundy colour of his hoodie, a huge smile blossomed across his lips as he moved to face you properly.

‘So you’re stealing from my closet now are you, cheeky little chipmunk?’ He asks and you burrow your head into his chest to hide your smile, but it didn’t help that not only were you smiling but you were giggling too.

‘I couldn’t help it,’ came your muffled response, ‘it was too comfy to not wear it.’

Jason only chuckled as he tightened his hold on you, burring his face deep into your neck and breathing you in, just happy to have you simply in his arms and in his hoodie that he as been looking for the past five minutes too, but you were just too cute to deny and it didn’t help that whenever he did hug you he found himself not wanting to ever let go of you.

‘I’m very much aware, there’s a reason why I prefer it more so to others.’ Jason told you as though it was obvious, ‘and it’s obviously your favourite since you keep stealing it or try to burrow under it when I’m wearing it.’ He adds as he kisses across your necks humming in content as he felt everything outside of you two become quite; for with you everything was okay and Gotham wasn’t a shithole of a city, that nothing was wrong with him as he found himself healing within your embrace.

‘It reminds me of you,’ you admit, ‘keeps me safe, keeps me warm, keeps me loved when you’re far from me to do so yourself and I love being reminded of you and your love however I can, for being loved by you is the best thing that has ever happened to me in a while.’ Jason pulled away to look you in the eyes before pulling you in for a slow but sweet and lingering kiss that took your breath away.

‘Being loved by you feels like I’m healing, like I’m not the broken man others like to make me out to be, like I’m not this eternally angry person and I thank you for being back my smile.’ Jason says softly against your lips as he peppered your face in kisses, praising you, worshiping you in the simplest but effective ways possible.

Bruce

‘Come to bed.’ You whined as you threw your arms over his broad shoulders, burring your head into his neck.

‘You’re wearing my hoodie.’ Bruce stated matter of factly. You shrugged as you breathed in his scent. ‘It’s comfy and warm and was going to waste in the wardrobe.’ Bruce smiled softly at that as he manages to pull you into his lap, hands resting respectfully on your waist, rubbing it.

‘So you’re accusing me of leaving things to collect dust in my wardrobe?’ Bruce raised his brow at you, his eyes glinting in amusement as you pouted at him. ‘You underestimate how sexy and sophisticated you look in black hoodies and jackets mr Wayne.’ You teased as you gave his neck a could have kisses and a cheekily little nibble.

‘Behave yourself.’ Bruce warned as he pinched your side, making you giggle as you nuzzled his neck as though you didn’t do anything wrong while Bruce then soothed the area he pinched. ‘I’m only making an astute observation, nothing more.’ You defend yourself but you weren’t wrong, Bruce looked amazing in anything he wore but the moment he wore black hoodie or jacket, you swore heaven had came to greet you early with such a heavenly sight.

Bruce hummed as he rubbed your back, finding your antics humorous as you never failed to remind him how beautiful he was in your eyes, and while he was aware of this fact, it was the fact that it was coming from you made it all the more genuine. ‘You’ve got a unique way of saying so.’ He says as he sees you fighting the desire to fall asleep with the way you tried to prevent yourself from drifting off by toying with his shirt, distracting your mind in hopes of spending just those few more minutes with him.

While he appreciates it, he would much regret you sleep instead. However he was also aware that you wouldn’t dream of doing so without him also coming to bed and sleep, you were too stubborn because you were aware that he would stay awake for far long and so if you needed to sleep in his lap, you’ll do it for Bruce knew you well enough to know you would.

‘I don’t see you complaining about it.’ You murmured against his neck, ‘now are you going to come to bed or do I have to drag you.’ You add but half of your words were slurred from the sleep you were trying to fight off, which made Bruce laugh as he helped you to your feet and escorted you to bed. ‘You don’t have to worry about dragging me my dear.’ Bruce replied, ‘I was just about to head to bed regardless you or don’t.’

[revelboo]

I’m absolutely melting over Spinster snuggling his big ol face against their lil human. It’s soo cute and fluffy and I love it when full-size mechs still find ways to do affectionate things like that despite the size difference.

Sounds like the Scavengers have a rough job ahead of them going off that ending. Makes me wondered if Spinister comes back in a unconscious state, would our honorary scavenger try to do the face nuzzling back in a worried attempt to wake him up?

Oooh drama. Yes, please. Gotta get there, though. Shenanigans first

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 12

Scavengers x Reader

• “Right there. Don’t move,” Crankcase says as Spinister obediently stands in the doorway to the bridge completely oblivious. Otherwise he’d probably be offended or attack as Crankcase rigs up a blaster pointing at his head and tapes it down to a console. “Okay, tiny. Anyone comes through that door that’s not us, you pull this trigger.” Hooking a servo around you to drag you closer when you shy away. “You don’t hear them out or ask who they are. You shoot first. Understand?”

• “Yeah,” you mumble as Spin lifts a hand and waves from his spot playing target. Aware of the way Crankcase and Krok are both staring at you like they don’t believe you’ll be able to do it. “I can do it.” No, you’re pretty sure you can’t. Even if someone comes in with a gun drawn on you, you’re not sure you can just shoot them in the face point blank. You’re not nearly cold blooded enough for that, but you force a smile anyway so they won’t worry. Because you can’t really beg not to be left alone, can’t admit that you’re scared.

• “It’s not a kind galaxy,” Krok says, watching you clasp your hands together, avoiding their optics. “And you’re very soft.” Too soft. Too gentle. Anxiously clicking at the device in his hand, he’s almost tempted to tell Fulcrum to stay with you even though they need him. Primus knows Misfire can’t hit anything, Spinister gets distracted with his own shadow, and Crankcase sometimes freezes. “You can’t be soft out here.” Because you won’t survive and they need you here with them. Looking after their own because they’re all they each have and you’re part of that.

• “Try not to find a stupid way to die,” Misfire adds, reaching to gently flip your hair into your face. Grinning when you scowl at him, but don’t offer the rude hand gesture. You’ve been very careful not to do that anymore, he’s noticed. No longer interested in them? Or just embarrassed now that they know it’s an offer?

• Worried, you watch them gather their gear which mostly seems to be a small armory’s worth of guns and leave you behind on the console with a blaster you’re not even sure you’re strong enough to pull the trigger on. Rubbing your hands against your arms, you walk toward the edge of the console to sit and nearly fall flat on your face. Something has you by the leg and you yelp when you slide into an awkward sit on your hip, leg and foot in the air. You’re stuck to the alien equivalent of duct tape, one corner of it having rolled slightly. Swearing you try to pull loose, the stuff not budging at all. Awkwardly pulling yourself up, you hiss as your shirt sleeve gets stuck. And panic claws at you as you think of glue traps. Of small animals getting stuck and suffocating themselves trying to get loose. “Spin! Krok! Misfire?” You scream.

• Returning to the ship a full rotation later, it’s a relief to see it intact. The ramp still closed. Fulcrum vents as he follows Misfire inside, almost walking into the other con when he stops suddenly. And starts laughing. Leaning to look, he grimaces and shoves past Misfire. Because you’re half naked, your lower covering stuck to the tape, your upper cover hooked around your neck, the sleeve also stuck and the ends of your hair caught in the tape so you’re bent over at an awkward looking angle. Hearing them, your head turns and you’re leaking, making a hitching sound that sobers Misfire immediately. Both of them coming over. “Shh, it’s okay. Primus. How do we get you loose without hurting you?” Fulcrum asks, servos ghosting over you as you sob.

• “Tiny!” Spinister roars as soon as he spots you, rushing to get at you only to be stopped by Crankcase and Krok seizing his arms. “Let go!” Straining to get free as he drags them toward you. You’re in pain, hurting. That noise you’re making twisting unpleasantly in his spark as Krok hooks an arm around his neck. “Calm down, if you try to yank them loose you’ll hurt them,” Krok snarls as he’s dragged by the much bigger mech.

• “Cut me loose, please,” you whimper, neck, back and legs aching from the position you’re trapped in. Hear Spin howling as he fights against the other two then a thump and swearing. You’d tried to tear your hair loose for hours, but only ended up making it worse. And now you can’t stop bawling like a baby. Sniffling as Misfire produces a blade and then hesitates, expression almost stricken. “I’m sorry,” he says and then he’s sawing at your hair, trying to not take off too much. Fulcrum catching you when you pull loose from your shirt and fall backwards, legs tingling with pins and needles. “Does it hurt?” Slumped in Fulcrum’s palm, you look up at Misfire and it takes a moment to figure out what he’s talking about, taken by surprise by how miserable he looks.

• “I don’t feel it when my hair is cut, hun,” you say, just lying there. And he puts the blade away, wanting to reach for you as his optics slide to the tape you’d gotten caught on. Realizing what would have happened if you’d kept struggling, if you’d panicked trying to get free. That you’d have died there and it shocks through him how ridiculously fragile you are. Reaching to tip your flushed face up, watching your eyes leak, he feathers his servos against you to feel the frantic pounding of your heart. “Where’s Spin?” You ask, voice ragged. Glancing back, he winces. Growling a warning when Fulcrum turns with you cupped in his hands so you can see Spinister sprawled on the floor when Krok or Crankcase had decked him to keep him from freaking out and accidentally making things worse. “Spin!”

Previous

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[wadoichimonji0]

Regarding Wotans

Paring: Zoro x Reader

Raiting: Explicit (minors DNI)

Summary:

You and Zoro are no secret.

The rest of the crew don’t address it directly, but they know. To others, the two of you are normal crewmates. You laugh and drink together, you fight and protect each other. You bicker and argue with each other. There are no obvious displays of affection that just any passerby can pick up on.

But the crew sees you give Zoro your extra servings of meat at dinner. They see the way Zoro is always aware of your movements when you’re in his vicinity. The hushed conversations, shoulder to shoulder and leg to leg.

There is no big announcement, no celebration. You and Zoro just are.

Or so Usopp thought.

-or- You and Zoro get into a fight about something stupid. Naturally, the crew gets involved somehow. Ends with smut.

A/N: Listen ya’ll, I am a diehard ZoSan fan, they are my OG ship and I will ship them until the day I die. But for some reason, my hetero side was really screaming at me to jot this down. So here ya go. Crossposted on Ao3.

Tags: strawhat shenanigans, female reader-insert, established relationship, squirting, aquarium sex (if that's a thing), make up sex.

---

You and Zoro are no secret.

The rest of the crew don’t address it directly, but they know. To others, the two of you are normal crewmates. You laugh and drink together, you fight and protect each other. You bicker and argue with each other. There are no obvious displays of affection that just any passerby can pick up on. 

But the crew sees you give Zoro your extra servings of meat at dinner. They see the way Zoro is always aware of your movements when you’re in his vicinity. The hushed conversations, shoulder to shoulder and leg to leg. 

There is no big announcement, no celebration. You and Zoro just are.

Or so Usopp thought.

The sharpshooter watches in silent shock as you and Zoro pass each other on the deck; the swordsman towards the kitchen, and you towards the helm. The look you two exchanged could freeze over Akainu himself. 

Usually, Usopp notices you two at least nod to each other, or you’re walking to the same place together. Sometimes, much to Usopp’s delight, you would fake swat at Zoro and start a weird shadow boxing session with the two of you, leaving Zoro with a happy flush on his face. 

Usopp shivers as you walk past him. More like stomped, with the way your boots are slamming on the floorboard. “Hey, take it easy on Sunny,” Usopp calls to your back as you descend the stairs. You pause for a moment, probably feeling a bit guilty, then take noticeably softer steps towards Jinbe. 

“What’s up with her?” he says to himself, scratching the back of his head. 

To his horror, he turns around and sees Zoro also stomping his way towards him. Usopp squeals as Zoro gets in his face. “Hey, you know things about giants,” Zoro accuses him. 

“Y-Yeah, sure I do,” Usopp stammers. 

“Is it true that–”

“--that giants and fishmen are able to reproduce?” You look at Jinbe with your arms crossed, a steely determined look on your face. Jinbe looks at you in mild horror, then clears his throat. “Well,” he starts, “technically–”

“--I don’t want technically, Long-Nose,” Zoro pinches Usopp’s nose between two fingers, ignoring the sharpshooter’s pained yelp. “Is it true or not??”

“There’s been a lot of discussion amongst scholars about Wotans, but–OUCH–”

“--but yes, it is true. They’re called Wotans.” Jinbe looks at you as your face morphs from upset to smug, and hesitantly continues, “You can ask Captain Luffy–”

“I ain’t asking Luffy, you crazy?” Zoro lets go of Usopp’s nose and huffs. Usopp clutches his face and glares halfheartedly at Zoro. “Sure, I’m the crazy one,” he grumbles. 

“Whatever,” Zoro turns on his heel and stomps away. 

Usopp calls after him, “I do NOT want to know why y’all were talking about Wotans, but just apologize to her already, doofus.” Zoro flips him off without turning around, and Usopp’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance.

“And stop stomping all over Sunny!”

—

That night at dinner, Zoro has a permanent frown on his face, while you sport a relaxed, self-assured smile. Usopp looks between the two of you as Zoro stabs at his sea-king steak, and you chat happily with Robin about something Usopp couldn’t bother to decipher. 

Nami leans conspiringly towards him. “Looks like those two really got into it,” she mumbles to him. Her eyes also flick between you and Zoro. 

“Someone has to do something soon, my sense of smell depends on it,” Usopp mumbles back. 

“Are you kidding?” Name hisses. “The last time those two got into a stupid fight and I tried to help, Zoro got so mad at me for not giving me extra money for booze, he almost pulled Enma on me. Enma. I had to tiptoe around him for almost a week!” 

“I don’t want to be involved more than I already am!” Usopp complains right back. Him and Nami watch as Sanji swats at Zoro’s head for being too violent with his food.

Usopp rolls his eyes and returns to his food. “Whatever the case, they need to make up, quickly,” he says. 

Luffy pauses from stuffing his face to look between you and Zoro, then says matter of factly (and with no shortage of glee), “Zoro needs to apologize to Y/N.”

You glance at Zoro, who just angrily “che!”s. At the same moment, Luffy attempts to steal the rest of Zoro's food. The swordsman futilely gets himself tangled in Luffy's rubber appendages as the happy captain gobbles up the rest of his plate. 

Nami groans, and meets Robin’s eye from over your shoulder. When the archeologist winks, a smile slowly grows on Nami’s face. “Looks like a solution is already in the works.”

—

You enter the aquarium and immediately pause at the doorway. 

“You’re not Nami,” you say. 

Zoro just looks at you. “You’re not Luffy.”

You close the door behind you. “Looks like we’ve been set up.” 

Zoro is positively lounging on the chairs that line the aquarium. Arms stretched along the tops of the comfy cushions, legs spread lazily, head lulled to the side to look at you. His three swords lay to his side. He’s the picture of relaxation. 

Despite being set up, the sight of him pisses you off.

You cross your arms and stand there, leveling the swordsman with a look that screams, I’m waiting. When you start tapping your foot impatiently, Zoro groans. In truth, he doesn’t mind admitting he’s wrong in most situations. He knows that a good leader always owns up to their mistakes. The only two exceptions to this rule are when you or Sanji are involved. You have a way of getting under his skin that Sanji never could. It tugs on his more primitive side. It makes him want to challenge you more than you challenge him. 

He gives you a long look over. You try your best to not fidget as his eyes travel hotly from your eyes, to your exposed collarbones, to the long lines of your legs. 

You start tapping your foot louder, and Zoro’s eyebrow twitches. 

“Alright, alright fine,” he drawls, then mumbles. “M’sorry.”

“What was that?” You cup your ear and lean forward. “I can’t hear you.” 

Zoro rolls his eyes. “I am sorry.” 

“For…?”

“M’sorry for not listening to you,” he says, knowing very well that's not what you want to hear. 

“Wrong,” you take a few slow steps so you’re closer to the man. “Try again.”

Zoro watches as you take measured steps towards him until you’re right in front of his spread legs. He tilts his head up to look at you as you tower over him. You unapologetically meet his eye. 

When he first met you all those years ago, you were the first woman in a long time to hold his gaze without flinching away. It was the first thing about you that Zoro found attractive. You became the challenge he always needed. In that way, and many more, you have helped him grow to be the person he is today. Now he meets your gaze, and he knows you see both his strengths and his weaknesses, and you love him all the same for it.

His eyes go ever so slightly fond when he speaks next, and you almost cave right then and there when you see it. “M’sorry for not believing you.” 

You step forward again, the sides of your knees touching his inner thighs. “Wrong.” you whisper. 

Zoro watches as you lean forward, his eye never leaving you. “I’m sorry for not trusting you with this small thing, when I already trust you with my life,” he says quietly. The rumble of his voice vibrates through you when you’re this close to him. 

You tilt his head up with a finger below his chin to get a better look at him. You see the silent apology in his eyes just as you hear it in his words. He sees the forgiveness in your eyes, and remembers there was a time when he didn’t think he deserved any sort of forgiveness from anyone. You helped him see that he was worth it, and more. 

Zoro caves. 

He surges up to press his lips to yours, grabbing your knees to bring you closer. Your body naturally follows the movement and you straddle him, winding your arms around his neck and pushing yourself against his chest. You want to feel every plane of his body against you. You grab at him and pull him flush to you as much as you can. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his saliva on your tongue, his teeth on your neck. He grants every one of your wishes without you asking. 

Your lips press and mold together frantically, almost no finesse as a carnal desire overtakes the both of you. Your hands shove into his yakuta to claw at his smooth muscled chest. He hisses as your nails drag over his skin, and bites your lower lip in retaliation. The sounds of you both panting heavily are loud in the silence of the aquarium. 

There are no words exchanged. There’s no need for it. 

Effortlessly, Zoro moves through a set of motions that leaves you breathless. He grips your thighs and stands, turning so that you are sitting on the couch and he is on his knees between your legs before you could take another breath. 

You let out a puff of air as you fall back. Zoro pulls once and your pants and underwear are both gone. You open your mouth to protest, but he almost desperately grabs the back of your thighs and raises them so your knees are practically at your chest, and his mouth attaches to your core. 

His tongue and lips and teeth press at you with such an urgency and intensity, you slap both hands over your mouth to prevent the moan that is bubbling quickly in your throat. His tongue slides over your folds and circles your entrance. His grip on your thighs tighten as he bends you even further in half to reach more of you. He eats you out like a man starved, like someone eating their first meal in weeks, like someone who has been craving the taste of you and only you. 

Zoro’s mouth deliciously trails up to your clit and stays there. He traces the nub expertly, alternating between the flat and the tip of his tongue. You see stars, heat boiling and coiling in your pelvis so quickly you don’t know what to do with yourself. Zoro plays your body like a master musician, and you’re helpless to do anything but let him. 

He feels when your orgasm begins to crest. Your body tightens, your breath quickens, your back arches from the cushion. Zoro knows your body so well at this point that he can pinpoint even the smallest shifts in your countenance. He brings your hips closer to the edge of the seat, knowing what's coming. He hums and quickly buries two fingers inside you. You gasp, then press your palms to your mouth harder as he curls his fingers and moves perfectly against your g-spot. You see white and cum almost instantly, but Zoro doesn’t stop. Your legs shake as his fingers continue to work in and out of you, building upon a familiar pressure. You’re too weak at this point to resist it, with the way the man had you riled up since your stupid argument, and soon something inside you snaps. Your eyes roll back and you silently scream as you feel yourself squirt on his fingers. Zoro groans low in satisfaction, his head now resting against your thigh and holding you open so he can watch you gush around his hand. 

You squirm and push against him enough that he finally lets you go. He breathes in heavily as he takes in the sight of you. Your thighs glisten with your release in the low light of the room. You’re half turned away from him, chest heaving, hands still covering your mouth. Your eyes are watery and you look at him with such feral desperation, it makes him grin wickedly. 

You blink and Zoro is out of his yakuta jacket. He runs his damp fingers over your legs, pushes your shirt and your bra both up above your chest. He grips tight at your nipples and you gasp. You're desperate to feel more of him, running your hands down the thick of his forearms as he palms you. He bends forward and swipes your bottom lip with his tongue. You immediately open up in response, and you moan at the taste of yourself on him. 

He moves closer to you and whispers in your ear, “Turn around.” Your move quickly to your hands and knees, gripping the tops of the cushions. You arch your back and spread your knees, stretching your arms as much as you could at this angle. Zoro hums and grabs at the flesh of your ass appreciatively. He kisses his way back down your spine before he straightens. 

He doesn’t bother to take his pants off fully and pulls them down just enough to free himself. He sighs in relief, and relishes in the picture you paint with your body stretched in front of him. He debates teasing you for a bit longer and rubs his tip along your entrance. You buck once desperately against him, and Zoro has no choice (or strength left to deny either one of you) and sinks into your tight warmth. 

You gasp as you feel him stretch you, your walls instantly accommodating his size. You were wetter than you think you’ve ever been, and the stretch is easy. Zoro sinks all the way to the hilt, but he does so slowly. You feel every inch of him, from the soft bulbous head to every vein and bump, to the slight burn of the stretch that you knew would soon turn into pleasure, until his pelvis is flush against you. You almost sigh in relief of finally being full. Zoro begins to set a steady pace, knocking the breath out of you with each soft slap of his skin against yours. He is mesmerized at the sight of you.

You look back at Zoro as he makes love to you. You love it when he gets like this, all soft and slow and tender. His hands push up your shirt as he palms your back. But now is not the time for that. You push your ass against him, trying to encourage him to go faster. 

Zoro chuckles. “Impatient brat,” he mumbles. “You want it that bad? Fine. Take it.” He grips your hips and tilts you up. You have to brace on your elbows, but your complains are literally fucked out of you as Zoro starts plowing into you. Your head tips back with a gasp. Zoro drives his powerful hips forward over and over and over again until you see stars and he fills all of your senses. His spiced scent, the heat he radiated already has you sweaty, the taste of him and you on your tongue, the sound of his hushed pants and groans. One of his hands moves up your back and grabs your neck, physically pulling your body onto his cock. You could practically feel him in your chest with how deep he is. You lean forward to bite your forearm; it’s all you can do to keep from screaming. 

You look back at Zoro again as he fucks you into oblivion, and you see the desperation in his face, you feel the weight of his hands gripping your waist, the way sweat beads down his chest, his eye is completely piercing yours in a way that lets you know that you’re his and his alone. He’s mostly quiet save for his panting breaths, though he knows you love it when he’s loud. The sheer size of him leaves you beyond words, and it’s all that you can do to press your face in your arms and just take it. 

He adjusts his grip on your waist and leans forward so his chest brushes your back, and you absolutely see stars as he hits you deeper than before. Your shriek is muffled and your eyes roll as he slows his pace, but does nothing to dull the strength of his thrusts. Your back arches almost impossibly to take on the weight of his thrusts. You feel the heat radiate through his skin as he covers you with his large frame.

The amount of desperation clouding his and your judgment was almost palpable in the humid room. Zoro is quickly losing his ability to stay silent, so he can’t help but to hiss at how tight you begin to grip him. He wants to take his time with you, feel the full expanse of your soft skin under his palms, savor the way you flutter and pulse around his cock. But he is way too wound up to do that now. Not with the way you drove him wild all day. 

You're starting to lose strength in your arms, and you drop one arm to rest a cheek against the couch. Seeing this, Zoro pauses his moments only briefly to straighten. He grabs both your biceps and pulls your whole weight back on his cock. You're practically fully impaled on him, and with nothing to muffle yourself with, you let out a guttural moan.

Zoro smiles wickedly and resumes his pace. It doesn’t take long (how could it with the way he’s going to town on you) before you feel your orgasm approach. You try your best to keep most of your moans down, you really do. Zoro doesn’t do much to help either, with both your hands occupied. But Zoro fucks you like he will never fuck you again, and he’s desperate to be burried within your very essence. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Zoro…!” you whisper desperately before you break. You groan desperately, deep in your chest, as if the orgasm was ripped from somewhere deep within you. You shake and pulse around Zoro’s cock, and he throws his head back to let out a sinfully low moan as he cums with you. You can barely feel anything but the pulsing of your walls around his cock and the thick gushing of his cum inside you. Heat runs like magma from your chest to your toes as you continue to cum. Zoro finally has mercy on you and stops with his pelvis flush against the globes of your ass as you both calm down. 

Zoro gently releases one of your arms and presses his palm against your chest to push so that your back is flush to his chest. His embrace is warm and tender. You sink heavily into his weight and let him do all the work of keeping you upright, your orgasm sucking all the energy out of you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again. His breath fans your ear as the both of you pant. You feel his heart beating powerfully in his chest against your back. You tilt your head on his shoulder to look at him.

“I forgive you,” you whisper back. He graces you with a smile so endearing, you can't help but to lean in and kiss him. Zoro caresses your neck softly as he swipes his tongue against yours languidly, enjoying the feeling of being as close to you as possible. 

Later, Usopp watches from the bridge as the two of you emerge from the aquarium. To anyone else, it looks like the two of you just parted ways without a word. But Usopp sees the way your hands brush as you leave, notices the flush on Zoro’s face and the messiness of your hair. You both have a noticeably lighter foot as you walk to opposite ends of the ship. Usopp leans against the railing and sighs. Balance has been restored, it seems. 

“Finally.”