#also he has like? actual muscles? you think I know how to draw muscles? think again fucker there’s a reason I give everyone sweaters

[droppingartintotheinfinite]

I hate him so much his hair is stupid and his glasses are stupid and his weird pants are stupid and his shirt is stupid it is absolutely unforgivable that he’s my favorite. Why are all parts of him things that I can’t draw. Why does this keep happening with homestuck characters I feel targeted

[icypopz]

bathing with them ♡

↬ request from anon ; Hiiii may I pls request the love and deepspace boys with a reader who loves taking baths with them??

↬ notes ; rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; ice active era?! jk we all know i'm lying atp HAHAHA but here's my annual post which is also my first post for LADS :> i changed the prompt a bit but i hope u enjoy !

↬ warning(s) ; tiny spoilers for rafayel's backstory, xavier's is like microscopically suggestive

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ rafayel ! ]

rafayel absolutely adores taking baths with you, even though he loves to tease you about being too clingy (he's actually the clingy one, but he'll never admit it for the world). he loves just chilling in the bathtub with you, especially on winter nights where he'll pull you closer in the hot water, complaining that "i need more warmth! protect me from the cold, miss bodyguard!"

he would get playfully annoyed when you joke about wanting to see his mermaid tail when he gets into the bathtub, scolding you about how lemurians also have powers to lure humans in and he'll be doing that to you if you don't get in the bath with him "right now!" also rafayel doesn't really like rubber ducks, he says it's weird that humans like to put toys like that in the water when they could just go swim in a lake if they wanted to see ducks. but! he does love bubble baths, he loves to put the bubbles in your hair, and when you make a beard for him with the foam, he finds it the cutest ever.

rafayel definitely has like several hundred bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner in varying scents, claiming that their fragrance was so inspiring he just had to buy all of them. (the truth is, he wasn't sure which one you'd like so he just bought everything.) it's really helpful for when you stay over at his place though, you don't have to worry about packing a vanity case because he keeps everything ready for you, from your favourite toothpaste to a spare toothbrush. he also loves seeing you wrapped up in a towel, he thinks you look so adorable.

more content utc !

[ xavier ! ]

xavier isn't picky, he doesn't mind using either a bathtub or a shower, but after you visit him a couple of times, you definitely tell him he should use the shower instead. he always ends up falling asleep while he's soaking in the bathtub! he definitely loves showering with you though, he'll always do stuff like scrub your back or help comb through your tangled hair without you needing to ask. but it's almost impossible for both of you to bathe quickly, because you always end up getting distracted. who can you blame you though? it's not your fault xavier is so muscled from all his training!

xavier is the type who showers in freezing cold water, but he's willing to compromise if you don't like that. he ends up realising that hot water is more fun because he gets to write silly messages and draw hearts for you on the glass since it gets fogged up from the steam. also xavier's brain would totally crash the first time he showered with you, it would be that one tender night card all over again except better LOL. he's just that obsessed with you, you're the prettiest person with the best personality he's ever seen!

xavier would be one of those guys that has like the '10-IN-1! SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, SOAP!' soap bottles. it's not that he isn't bothered about hygiene, he just finds it a lot simpler to use one single bottle for everything, and it evidently works for him since his skin is so clear and his hair is so fluffy. but ever since you've started staying over, xavier takes note of your favourite soaps and stocks up on them (especially after you tease him for that pitiful bottle of soap in his bathroom - he's the type to squeeze out every single last drop of soap from the tube so the bottle definitely looks like it has been through The Horrors).

[ zayne ! ]

zayne would usually prefer showering over bathing usually, because he's used to maximising time for work in his schedule, so he likes everything in his personal life to be extremely efficient. but once he starts dating you, that does kind of change. on days where he doesn't have to rush into work for urgent cases, or nights after a hectic day, he enjoys relaxing with you in the bathtub - it's a little slice of heaven for him to have you pressed up against him in the warm water.

zayne likes using his evol to tease you while you're showering. though he isn't usually a playful person and his humour is quite dry, the intimacy of being in such close proximity to him makes him act up a little LOL. so when you ask him to soap your back or anything like that, he'll purposely make his fingertips cold so you shiver when he touches you. "zayne!" you'll scold him, and he'll just let out a soft chuckle before doing what you actually asked him to.

zayne would just have the bare minimum essentials in his bathroom, but i also think he would be the type to buy in bulk so he only has to go out shopping once in a while. this way, when his soap runs out he can just get a new bottle from his cupboard. he likes going into his bathroom and seeing little traces of you all over the room, like your toothbrush in his cup or your favourite soap on his shelf - it makes him happy because it's like a reminder of you even when you aren't there.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[hanasnx]

vertigo flowers.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: the header is from @/teefumz on tiktok and instagram. i couldn’t find anything about their rules on reposts used for personal reasons such as this which is why i really stress go check out the original artist on their platforms linked. WARNINGS: human!mordecai | fem reader | unestablished relationship | sexual content | premature ejaculation | praise | handjob.

"That's a cool shirt, by the way."

The compliment draws your gaze down to glance at the graphic on your top, cut-up and worn Fist Pump merch. "Thanks." you respond, voice raised over the natural din of the party. The guy who's been talking you up—said his name is MORDECAI—stands awkwardly tall alongside you, long ringed fingers messing with the rim of his red solo cup. There's an obligation to keep the conversation going, and you're not actually interested, but you ask anyway, "Who do you know here?"

His brows peak in question, and when you sigh with a roll of your eyes he's taken aback by how you don't walk away, instead you lean in. Tentatively, he mirrors you, afraid to make the wrong move as you incline towards his ear, and he lends it to you.

"Who do you know here?" you repeat, and your breath washes over the sheen of sweat on his neck, weighing down the black hair at his nape. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he would've audibly swallowed if not for the loud music. Your body heat radiates onto him, he can feel the sensation of your presence inches away from him, and you're hot—not just in the temperature sense. His jeans hurt.

"Uh," He scans the party until he comes across the unmistakable spotlight of his coworker, shirtless and lassoing said shirt above his head. "Muscle Man." he replies, glancing back at you before realizing how close you are still. His eyes widen and he straightens abruptly, smoothing a hand over his dyed blue hair, and a curl forms to your lips. To avert his eyes, he refocuses on the cocky display of his peer in the center of a circle of partygoers. Muscle Man knows how to entertain a crowd. "D'you know him?"

"Yeah, I'd say so." you reply in a way that pushes Mordecai out of his own mind for a second. Muscle Man also has game.

"Why'd you say it like that? Did you date him or something?" he jokes, scoffing at first. As if Rigby were right next to him, he's expecting some form of banter, momentarily slipping his mind he's in the company of a pretty girl. His lips part, snapping his neck in your direction, anticipating your twisted expression of confusion. Instead, it's the first time your countenance melts into an easy smile, hitting him softly on the arm.

"Shut up, I did not." you tell him, and relief washes over him at his stroke of good luck.

His disbelief at that good luck only grows when later on you lead him to some dark corner of the party by his skinny black tie. Somehow, he'd stumbled his way onto charming you, and he thanks whatever god is smiling down at him for sending him a hot girl that's not afraid to make a move.

"I like your voice." you tell him through heated kisses, using the collar of his white button-up to tug him to you. "Keep talking to me." the command in your sweet voice makes his eyes flutter as he draws his snake bites through his teeth, letting you slot yourself between his neck and shoulder to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down.

"What should I say?" he asks, clutching onto your waist to ground himself as your teeth scrape against his pulse point.

"Anything you want." you goad, your nose grazing his sensitive skin. You suck on him, tonguing the reddening spot in your mouth as he goes limp under your touch, head lulling back.

The panic in his chest to get this right urges him to think of something, but his blank mind betrays him. Kneading your flesh in his hands, he presses you to his crotch incidentally, and a deep moan reverberates from low in his throat at the contact. You hum against him, kissing on the tender area you created by your ministrations and he sucks in a breath. "You're hot. You're so hot, I can't believe you're talking to me." he rambles, and he feels you chuckle on him squished this close together. He uses the wall behind you, easing you against it as his hand treads to your hip, dragging your skirt down an inch. The exposed skin against the heel of his palm sets it on fire, and he hopes you can't feel him sweat. Between the heat of this party and bodies melting together, he's still embarrassed. He occupies that nervous energy doing as he's told. "You're way out of my league, no one's gonna believe me when I tell 'em what I'm doing right now."

His pathetic babblings make you grin, and you overlay your hands on his, directing them for him. The strings of your thong lay high over your hipbones, cresting underneath your Fist Pump top. So you show him, curling those long fingers under the strings and his breath hitches in his throat. Standing on your toes, you roll your abdomen to grind on him, demonstrating what you want. Loud guitars grate your ears as you move against him, and his fist forms around the waistline of your panties as if to ground himself again. He's too excited, hard in his pants which you can feel through your clothes, and it encourages you.

A thump sounds next to you, and you glance up at the source. His forehead is stamped against the space next to your head, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he humps you. Lips near your ear keep talking to you, "Kinda wanna fuck you right now." A thrill shoots through you, but you let him run his mouth. "I don't care it's a party, I don't care if someone sees. Couldn't care less about finding a bathroom, I wanna fuck you right now."

You bite down onto your lower lip, craning your neck to keep yourself afloat above his shoulder. He's so much taller than you, but you're able to reach down, wedging between your impossibly close bodies to fiddle with his jeans. He retracts his pelvis, letting you do it, and when you palm him another one of your favorite noises pours right out of him. Hyper-sensitive and completely pliant, he lets you feel him up, massaging him through his plaid boxers. "Oh, my God." he exhales, raising his arm to bang his fist against the wall. You jump from the noise, and your eyes follow the lean muscle of his bicep and the corded veins and tendons of his forearm.

Unconsciously, you squeeze, and he whimpers, rutting into your hand as you cup him. Fucking himself using your hand as he speaks nothing but incoherent grateful praises, mixed with desperate "Just like that"s. He's swollen as he can be, and he doesn't realize it before he's pushed himself over the edge, full body contractions pass through him as his dick twitches in your grip, painting the inside of his boxers with his cum. A string of curses leave his lips, humiliated that he'd do such a thing, but you give him your number for another chance.

[packsvlog]

⋆ ˚ ཐིiཋྀ ˚ ⋆ 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── ✎ ₊· 𝗷𝗷𝗸

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in desperate need of a skin, you, a talented beginner tattoo artist, decides to test your partner and his love for you in a comical way — “ can i tattoo you ? ’’

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’ve been drawing for a couple of days now, and this is inspired by my sibling ( a tattoo artist ) and their influence on me, cause i too wish i could tattoo myself whenever i’m bored. ALSO i know we all see geto as tough but i had to!! and nanami surprised even me but the vision is visioning, you can not deny. I KNOW you can’t do many tattoos in one setting but please it’s just for plot. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: fluff / crackfic / smau with writing / reader has no gender / english is not my first language / there is mistakes because the app beat my ass sowwy / mentions of needles and pain / foul language / suggestive theme and horny police for nanami

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo ﾉ geto ﾉ nanami

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

Satoru is sitting in your chair, ankles fully on display for you, but you’re actually occupied with keeping everything sanitized in the makeshift space of your boyfriend’s spacious room. He is laughing and acting tough until he hears the buzz of the machine, then he stops and gulps.

“Shit, sweets. Don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“It’s too late.” You answer with a devilish smirk, before laughing and putting the pen down. “It’s okay if you don’t want anymore, no pressure.”

Maybe it’s the combo of your puppy eyes with small pout, but Gojo falls for your antics and let you have your way in his skin, it’s takes just a few minutes before you end the drawing of the little ants crawling his ankles. He, obviously, has the limitless off, and that scares him a bit — to feel pain, see dots of his blood. But when he looks at your concentrated face, pain dissolves, and he is happy to have something permanently his made by you, his only love.

By the end, though, he grins at you and asks for another one, bigger, blue! And you make the design and ink him again, before realizing you did not gave him the Suguru cat, but you fall for his dragon. Bitch.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

Geto can see black dots in his vision when he lays belly down on the bed. He is a tough guy, been through stuff you have only an ideia about. You could guess by the minimal details and the fucking huge scar on his chest, he has been deeply cut by something. Still, he is scared of the needle you are holding.

But here he is, presenting his blank large and sexy back to you, making you rethink of doing another thing instead of the tattoo, but you have your opportunity and need to grab it.

“My love, are you ready?” You voice has the buzzing sound of the machine in the background, Suguru groans at that.

“Please, beat me to sleep.” It’s all he says before you touch his face. Before you can say anything, he talks again. “I’m fine, I think. I trust you a lot, baby.”

Suguru soon learns how soft and weightless your hand feels, because although something is burning in his back, he thinks is just you rubbing alcohol — that is until he wonders why are you rubbing alcohol for twenty straight minutes now, and then he shifts his face a bit to stare at you. He almost passed out again when he realized the tattoo is already in progress, but he is fine, and simply goes back to his original head position, before deciding to sleep.

Suguru wakes up hours later with this intricate tattoo on his upper back, he smiles and flexes his muscles on the mirror before staring at you, seeing you googling him. Yeah, if you keep looking at him like that and your hands feeling like feather, he may enjoy this whole thing — he does! By the end of the year, his whole torso is designed by you.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Nanami presented you what could be called a slideshow of tattoos he would like to have. Basically he made a pinterest board and added you to put the tattoos you would think he look nice with (basically all you’ve seen).

By saturday, he is wearing a white shirt, showcasing his big arm’s muscles, you get occupied with a little thing before you even start to prepare the living room. Now, he has no shirt anymore.

“So, what did you choose for me, love?” His soothing voice asks you, he is sitting by your dinner table and you smile at him, showing your tablet with the many arts you made based on what both he and you liked.

“Now you pick one and we start.”

“Can I have all of them?” Oh.. “I like the art, you are so talented, love. Let me be your canvas, do what you want.” Yeah, you get occupied again in the day.

It’s nighttime when you crack your bones and look at both of your boyfriend’s arm, all inked up. He stares at you normally, no pain, no heavy breathing. He really was a punk in high school.

“So, since we already did all 12, can we finish the chest as well? I think legs would be nice too, or neck… I can have neck tattoos now!” Nanami says with a energetic voice when both of you are eating pasta later.

“Damn baby, you are getting addicted.” You sit on his lap, eyes focused on the ink all over him. “Yeah, we can do all that.”

[everwistfully]

Objectively speaking; I LOVE thinking abt the body types of the Robins and how it would've come to be. Like Dick??? He'd have the BROADEST shoulders and PROB tits to go with them! Ya know?? Cause of his more excessive acrobatics and his fighting style. He'd be the PERFECT example of the triangle; the broad shoulders to the tits to the tiny waist with the ass.

And Jason??? Jason's just ALL muscle but like that type of muscle that really only makes him look BIG and like only looks muscular when he's flexing. And this would be both a good and a bad thing for him. Essentially he gained all his muscle mass and newfound height while with the league/in the Pit so there's that but also, I'm sure he’s the exact type of person Little Jason thought he'd grow to be so that he could protect all those he loved that he was too small, at the time, to protect. I'm sure he also must have some mixed emotions abt the connections one could draw between him and Bruce without him also growing to look so much like him.

And Tim??? He's just all wiry muscle, a sleeper build, if you will. He's def got the shoulders and defined pecs but because of his overall slender build, you wouldn't notice. He's obvi MUCH stronger than he looks and it THROWS everyone off. And his legs??? Women are JEALOUS! He'd look GREAT in heels. ;) I'm sure that he suspected this would how he'd always be; smaller. But it must be so difficult to accept because of everyone around him (the batfam) and I can only imagine that he tries to draw inspiration from his mother who was in his same shoes but inspired respect and fear wherever she went.

But Damian??? I'm hesitant to go one way or another with him but I LOVE the idea of him, in the end, leaning towards his mother's physical features. He has the traits of his father but features of his mother and he'd feel so put out because of this. He's The Blood Son of The Batman and he can't have features leaning on the lean, fast, and slender side. On the other hand, he could be the carbon copy of his father which has its own emotional turmoil within it. And for personal reasons, I hope he does grow to be more like his mother because I think that while in his fathers care, this will indirectly force Damian to actually discover himself and not just accept to be his fathers perfect shadow until he becomes that shadow.

[shewrites02]

Green With Envy |Zoro X Reader|

Jealous Zoro x reader

Zoro x Crewmate!Reader

A/N: This is for @dinuxia-bhm, Who requested Zoro Jealous of the shitty cook. This is my very first One Piece fic request so I hope I did it justice.

Request : Open

Word Count : 5.3k

Leave a comment if you enjoy ! :)

"If you stare any longer , you may actually burn the image of them into your brain." Nami teased. She bumped the swordsman with her elbow , only then drawing his attention to her presence. "

Do you plan on making a move or were you hoping to intimidate her into a relationship?"

Nami takes a seat at the table next to the pirate who also awaits the start of breakfast. His eyes glance over at her , contemplating if he has any harsh words for the navigator... He has half a mind to tell her to mind her own business. Relationship? He scoffs at the notion. The swordsman knew nothing of feelings or love. The taboo, he quickly determined, too ridiculous to even discuss. Zoro only huffs in disagreement then goes back to watching the displays of affection amongst you and the cook.

You were teaching Sanji how to make an authentic breakfast from your village. The cook had begged you for weeks to share your favorite recipe with him. Even offering to spend his own berries gathering all the ingredients.

"Sanji, why do you keep asking me about this?" You inquired on the third week.

" I know you've only been sailing with us for a couple months, but I'm sure you noticed how hard it is to be away from home. " He took the cigarette out his lips then ashed it on the railing before giving you a sincere smile. "I just want to be able to make you something if you get homesick."

It was difficult to decline such a heartfelt request.

"Here. Try it now."

You blew on the spoon hoping to cool it down. When most of the steam subsided , you extended your arm bringing the spoon to Sanji's lips. You steadied his chin with your free hand being sure not to spill the hot liquid on his face. He hummed in pleasure at the taste.

"I think you have outdone even me on this one, my love." Sanji grinned proudly.

"As if I could ever!"

You pushed your hand into Sanji's chest jokingly shoving him away from you. The cook grabs your wrist before you can pull away, drawing you in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"Darling, you truly did an amazing job. Thank you for showing me."

The sight made Zoro's stomach turn. He watched how Sanji's hands fell to your waist when he moved around you to navigate the kitchen. Notice how you didn't shy away from his touch. How you actually offered a sweet smile to him in return . The marimo's body strained at every passing touch you and Sanji exchanged. His taut muscles are too tense to contract any further at the sight of Sanji's lips against your skin. "Why does he get to touch you?" The thought comes as a surprise to him.

"Here Zo , you wanna try ?" You asked.

You turn to him with a new spoonful of jam, blowing on it just as you had done for Sanji . You had taken notice of the swordsman's observations of you . Watch the way his eyes had followed your hands to Sanji's chin when you fed him . Zoro had sat at the table all morning supervising your lesson with the cook. You figured you could offer him that attention too.

"Marimo is too dense to appreciate such elegant flavors. " Sanji responds before Zoro has an opportunity to.

"Fuck you! It's only your shit cooking I don't appreciate!"

While the boys bicker you walk over to the table spoon in hand. Sanji had hurled another insult at the ex bounty hunter , but the delicate feeling of your fingers wrapping around his chin stopped any words Zoro may have had in return. There was a small pause where his eyes lingered on yours . Searching for something . Malice? Contempt? You didn't know. But When he found what he was looking for , or lack thereof , his lips parted.

"Is it good? Do you like it?" You asked using your thumb to wipe away the excess from the side of his mouth.

"Yeah..." His gaze shifts away from you. "Way better than the cooks."

You giggled at his words, allowing yourself to wallow in the heat that filled your chest at his praise. Amused at the small smirk that laid on his lips once he had gotten what he wanted. Your attention. You bend to bring your mouth to his ear.

"Silly swordsman, I have enough attention for the both of you." You whispered .

"I- that's not-"

The words trip and stumble out his mouth never once finding their feet. You could see the sweat begging to bead on Zoro's brow as his eyes shifted about in panic, looking for anything coherent to mumble back. The stoic pirate reduced to a fumbling teenager at your words. When he can come up with nothing, he decides to stop speaking. Annoyed, he crosses his arms against his chest and turns his head to face the navigator. He is met with the knowing grin on her face.

-

Your eyes scanned the room while your fingers aimlessly tapped against the sake bottle. You sat at the bar top alone , waiting for the rest of your crew-mates to join you . You should have known better than to think any of them would be on time. Sticking to the plan was not something the Strawhats were particularly versed in. Especially when they were all left to their own devices on a new island. You sigh, dragging your free hand down your face , attempting not to ruin your makeup in the process. It was beginning to get difficult to wait. The eyes of the pirate's in the bar watched you hungrily, and you feared one may try to satiate their appetite. Eyes still roaming the room, you hoped to see a familiar face.

"A pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone in a packed bar. " A man announces.

It's their captain. His arm is extended, hand out offering you a beer as he approaches. You smile, kindly declining. You hold up your own bottle, shaking it slightly to indicate its fullness as means of justification . The man nodded in understanding, but didn't leave. In fact he took the prolonged silence as an invitation to take a seat alongside you.

"Are you waiting on somebody?"

He casually rests his hand on your thigh as though he has already claimed you . You shift in your seat, turning so your legs would fall beneath the bar top. You're hoping the man would sense your discomfort at his proximity. His hand does not move. Instead his smile grows wider. Taking your movement as the green light to slowly drag his hand up toward your waist.

"My boyfriend is meeting me."

The lie slips past your lips with ease at the sudden rush of adrenaline. You go to swat the man's hands from you . The previous statement should be enough for him to understand you are not his to claim . The smile he wears drops. His hand doesn't move. Despite your physical protest. Your breath hitches in your throat at the growing realization of the situation you're in.

"He shouldn't have left you here all alone." The man's voice isn't above a whisper

His warning is gone just as quickly as it came , but your fear still lingers in the air. Your eyes bounce wryly from the door to the pirate who continued to creep into your space. "They're coming!" Your mind loops the words as if they were an incantation.

Then, as if to answer your fervent prayers, the bar door is shoved open. Luffy is the first of your crew to enter, his first mate trails behind him. You can see Zoro searching for you in the crowd, as the rest of the Strawhats messily file in after him. It doesn't take long for his eyes to find yours.

You don't have to say a word . The swordsman can sense your discomfort from where he stood. He saw the fear that engulfed the glimmer that resides in your eyes. He watched how you kept your arms held close to your body, afraid the man would reach for you. Notice how rigidly you cross your legs over one another . Then he sees the man's hand rubbing up and down your thigh. The swordsman starts making his way over to you, hand on the hilt of Shusui.

Zoro drew his sword placing the blade at the base of the man's wrist. The music in the bar stopped. The patrons are silent. Everybody's eyes fall on the three of you. Most filled with fear, your friends with confusion. But all watch the same as the conflict unfolds.

"Move your hand, before I slice it off."

There is a brief pause before the man laughs. A genuine belly hugging laugh at Zoro's imminent threat. Moments later the other men join in, egging their captain on.

"Is this the boyfriend you were talking about?"' The man asks, ignoring the ex bounty hunter. His eyes don't leave your body. Neither does his hand. "You almost got your lady in a lot of trouble , leaving her all alone in a bar like this."

Zoro's scowl deepens at the pirate's words. "Boyfriend? You had told the man he was your boyfriend?" The pieces slowly fall into place as the swordsman assesses the scene surrounding you. Alone, you sat in a bar full of pirates. The only other women present are staff of the small business. Zoro's eyes glance over at yours. His grip tightens around the hilt at the sight of your fearful expression. You had told the pirate he was boyfriend. Zoro finally understands.

"What kind of man would treat his girlfriend that way?"

"What kind of man uses his power to strong arm women? " The swordsman responds.

The question coals in the raging fire that was already roaring in the ex bounty hunter. The pirate had thought you were his, yet touched you anyway. Decided you were his to claim. To conquer. Then Justified his actions using the lack of Zoro's presence as an excuse. As if his absence was reason enough to encroach your space, and have you trembling in fear. Now the pirate captain had the audacity to question the type of man he was. It enrages Zoro.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Strong arm?" The captain stifles another laugh. His eyes finally look over to meet the swordsman. "We would've handled princess here real gentle."

The pirate clenches his fingers around you then goes to inch his hand further up your thigh. Zoro has seen enough. There is a sharp yelp preceding the sound of him sheathing his weapon. Your harasser's hand falls to the floor beneath your feet. Blood spews from his severed arm. You want to scream, but a sharp gasp falls from your lips instead. Almost instinctively Zoro's hand reaches out to grasp yours at the reaction.

You had seen Zoro cut down many men before, but being inches away from his blade as he does so was an entirely different experience. As you felt the warmth of the pirate's blood seeping into your dress, and wiped at the splatters of blood that littered your skin, you couldn't help but be a bit awestruck at his strength.

The captain's crew members rush to his aid as his screams continue. Zoro lets you squeeze his hand while you cautiously hop down from the bar stool, trying your best not to slip on the blood that covered the floor. He nudges you along to follow him. The only precursor you receive before the two of you walk into the single stalled bathroom at the back of the bar.

The small room didn't allot the two of you much personal space. If anything it forced you two into dangerously close proximity. As you stood in front of the sink , back to the mirror, you could feel Zoro's knees lightly brush yours when he reached to grab the paper towel off the roll. He bundles it up then brings it to your cheek. You take note of the small hesitation he makes before his hand lands on your chin . He licks the wad before swiping away at your cheek. A poor attempt to rid you of the scumbag's blood.

"I'm sorry." The words feel unfamiliar as they fall from the swordsman's mouth.

Your eyebrows raise to your temples. In all the months you had been sailing with the Strawhats , you have never heard Zoro apologize. You wonder what made this occasion so different. the slight widening of your eyes gives way to your surprise. Zoro notices and continues.

"I should have been on time."

"Don't be sorry Zoro. You saved me, thank you."

You bring your hand up to rest over his before smiling up at him. The look in your eyes, the one he had seen you give to Sanji so many times, was finally from his doing. His heart raced at your expression. He felt himself begin to sweat as the warmth of your stare spread across his skin. Zoro couldn't understand the physical response from his body. Part of him wanted to run. To flee the threat that seemed to be your piercing gaze. But a bigger part of him wanted to bask in its glow, doing anything imaginable to keep the sun out just a little while longer.

"Although " You giggle at the silly hunch. "I would have thought it would be Sanji to save me."

Your words bring raging storm clouds that wash Zoro's warmth away. He rolls his eyes. As though the notion was too implausible to even be considered. He brings the paper towel back to your cheek then speaks.

"The dumbass cook can barely save himself !"

"Is the moss head jealous?" You tease. " I'm happy it was you."

A loud bang on the flimsy wooden door interrupts the swordsman before he can respond. Seconds later it flings open, shaking on its creaky hinges. The sniper stands on the other side wide eyed.

"It's time to go!"

When you reunite with your crew there really is no need to explain the urgency of the situation. The pirate captain laid unconscious on the ground with a makeshift tourniquet wrapped around his arm. Apparently the crew had not taken kindly to Zoro's treatment of their captain, and seemed to have every intention of taking it out on the rest of the crew.

"C'mon guys there is surely no reason to make this much fuss over one hand." Brooke had tried to reason, his efforts in vain. The pirate crew wanted a fight.

"You pieces of shit!" Sanji swept his leg, thrashing a considerable number of men through the bar's singular window. "How dare he have the audacity to treat my darling , sweet love with such disrespect. And now you stand here trying to avenge your captain's actions... I won't allow it to go unpunished."

Sanji had enough fury in his heart to take on the entirety of the scumbag's lackeys. A fight was the only way to alleviate the emotions that were sure to get the better of him. In under three moves the cook had the no named pirate crew looking just as bad as their captain. The situation was settled.

-

"So the swordsman saves the day." Sanji says dejectedly as he brings the glass to his lips to take a drink. "At least you're okay."

You can't help the giddy smile that appears on your face at his mention. A bitter side effect of the alcohol. The navigator had suggested none of you go home empty handed after the chaos that ensued at the bar. Insinuated you had deserved a treat after all your troubles. There were no objections. At first you can only giggle at the cook's words. Butterfly's bloom in your chest when you think about the swordsman's delicate touch against your skin just moments after cutting a man down... for you. A slight chills crawls down your spine. You take a significant swig from the whiskey bottle in your hand hoping the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat may warm you up.

"He's an interesting man , Uh?" You pause to glance towards the deck. "Zoro."

"That's one word."

Sanji's curly brows raise at your question. He turns to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. You're looking out at the party . The cook watches your eyes while they search and scatter. He is trying to assess their intent, and then it dawns on him. You were looking for him. The Swordsman.

"You wouldn't happen to have a crush on mosshead would you?"

Your eyes dart back to Sanji , then away to look at the sea. Crush wasn't nearly a strong enough word to describe how you felt about Roronoa Zoro. Sometimes you would switch night watches with Nami just for the opportunity to watch the swordsman train in the crows nest. Although most of the time had been spent in silence , there was still something special about being in his presence. But Zoro's stoicism made it difficult to discern his feelings. You had thought him so unconcerned with your presence for so long that you had resorted to blatant teases and flirting with him in the first place. If only to fluster him. You craved acknowledgment from Zoro, in the way your lungs craved oxygen. desperately.

"I have been obsessed with the swordsman since the day Luffy dragged me onto the sunny... "

"Obsessed uh?"

Sanji lets out a genuine laugh at the words. Amused by the way the alcohol loosens your tongue. He had always taken notice of your affinity toward Zoro. Witnessed how differently you spoke to him than the others. Your crewmates had easily labeled you a flirt, but the way you riled Zoro had been different than the jokingly stated endearments you passed the rest of them.

Sanji glances around you to spot the swordsman on the deck. As he suspects the green haired pirate is surveilling them. When their eyes meet Zoro turns his head to stare at the antics of their captain, feigning interest. "If the dumbass mosshead had even the slightest ounce of emotional intelligence the two of you would be happy now." Sanji is surprised when the thought bumps into his head.

"Well, darling" Sanji wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you into him. You rest your head on his chest, then he continues to speak. "I have half a mind to say marimo likes you too."

The swordsman lays against the mast , feet crossed in front of him downing his third bottle of the night. He doesn't understand his anger at your actions; This scalding feeling that envelops him at the way you rest your head on Sanji's chest encourages him to drink more. He tries to dismiss his thoughts, convince himself that he doesn't care, but they bombard him like a buster call.

"Why did the cook get to hold you?" "He was the one who saved you. Why are you batting your eyelashes at Sanji and not him ?" "What else does he have to do to keep your attention?" "What about the shit cook was so much better than him?"

Zoro sees you part from the cook, and watches as you trek back to the party. He assumes you'll rejoin Nami and Robin, considering the tipsy women are calling your name so fervently. His brows raise when you pass them giving a placating wave. You're making your way over to him.

"Don't tell me you're already done drinking Zoro. I hadn't known you to be such a lightweight." You jest, pointing over to the 3 empty bottles that sat alongside him.

Zoro smirks before reaching for the half empty bottle that was clutched in your fingers. He wraps his large hand around yours then guides you to bring the bottle to his lips so he can take a drink. When he is done he wipes the excess from his lips using the back of his hand.

"You done smiling at the cook?"

He releases his hold on you then turns his head so your eyes won't meet his. He's staring at the sea as if it will answer his question. You mock a gasp bringing your free hand to your chest. Then you giggle.

"Roronoa! You're so jealous."

"No I'm not!"

You bring your hand to Zoro's cheek guiding his eyes back to yours. You offer him a sly smirk before you bend at the waist to meet his face. You're so close Zoro can feel your breath on his cheeks.

"Yes you are mossy. So spoiled, wanting my attention all to yourself. It's okay, I'm here now."

Zoro jerks his chin away from your grasp. His face scrunches into a frown. It's difficult for him to discern if it's anger, or embarrassment that's swelling inside him. The words fall from his lips before he has a chance to assess them.

"I'm not jealous!... I don't even know what the shitty cook sees in you."

Zoro wishes he could snatch the words back before they hit your ears. Hates how you wince at what he says. The way your smile dropped while you ruminated on his words. There is no more sunshine in your tear pooled eyes, only storm clouds. He knows it before the first tear has fallen. He's gone too far. You storm away from him.

-

"You made her cry." Sanji states as he pulls the cigarette for his lips. He puffs the smoke out then turns to Mosshead for an answer.

Zoro is in the crow's nest hiding from the peering eyes of his crewmates. Surely the cook hadn't been the only one to notice your early departure from the party only moments after the conversation you two had. The others were bound to have questions of their own soon. None of which Zoro cared to answer.

"I didn't mean to." Is all the swordsman can muster. The image of your broken hearted eyes are seared into his brain. Why did he say that? He wants to bang his head against the wall at the thought. Sanji rolls his eyes at the excuse. Not assuaged by the swordsman's words. Intent had no significance in Sanji's mind, all that mattered was that he was the source of your tears.

"What did you say to her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Bullshit."

Zoro walked toward the dumbbells that laid on the floor . He decides lifting is a better option than repeating his misgivings. He had no intention of admitting to the cook that he himself had been the source of Zoro's rage.

"Why do you care?" Zoro snaps back . He's deflecting.

"Because I care about her. She's cried herself to sleep and it's your fault!"

"If you care so much you fix it!"

"I wish I could marimo, I would love nothing more than to take that darling lady away from you."

Zoro scrunched his face into yet another frown. From him ? Zoro had never believed you his to begin with . Had that been the case he would've cut the chef down ages ago for his fleeting touches and stares.

"Take her, I don't care."

At this the cook let out a loud laugh that threatened to escape the confines of the crow's nest. He genuinely couldn't believe the swordsman could be so oblivious of his own feelings. When Sanji catches his breath, he can't help his devilish smile.

"... So you wouldn't mind if I climb into her bed tonight? You know she asked me."

Zoro's jaw clenches. He lowers the dumb bells away from his chest then drops them to the floor. Now his eyes meet the cook. Sanji takes it as an invitation to continue.

"I think she wanted the comfort after y'all's ... run in."

More fuel is added to Zoro's already racing thoughts. This time, he could not convince himself he was unbothered. Couldn't find a deep place to push the discomfort. The cook always got the best parts of you. Parts the swordsman so desperately wanted to save for himself. Zoro was sick of it.

"Don't touch her."

A sharp chuckle falls from Sanji's lips at the irony. Zoro couldn't admit to how he feels about you, but is standing there contemplating cutting him down at the mere thought of letting him into your bed. How could marimo be so stupid?

"Yeah mosshead, You don't care about her at all." Sanji mocked.

"You don't know what you're talking about?" Zoro scoffs.

What does the shitty cook know of his feelings, when he himself could not sort them out.

Sanji can only shake his head in disappointment. He brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch it slightly before letting out a dismissive sigh. Oh how'd he wished to take your mind away from the swordsman. Wished it was he who was the object of your affections, but the cook knew you would never be obsessed with him in the same way you were marimo. As painful as that may be.

"Zoro, if you lose the girl you're in love with because you're too stupid to figure out your feelings..." He takes a drag from his cigarette "You're a bigger dumbass than I thought."

"Why do you give a shit if things work out?t" Zoro snarls. He wonders why Sanji has suddenly taken his feelings into so much consideration.

"Honestly mossy I don't. You don't deserve her. but she loves you and she deserves to be happy. You'll make her happy. That's all I really want... "

-

Sanji set the plate down on the vanity. He peers over at you wrapped in the thick comforter. You had allowed it to engulf you, face and all. You had not moved since he had come to see you last. That was at breakfast. Still you faced the wall with your back to him. There is a slight hesitation in his step before he walks further into the room.

"You sure everything is okay?" He inquires for the second time.

"I'm fine Sanji. Really." You attempt to sound reassuring.

The cook nods in understanding. He is not convinced , but will not ask for a third time . Instead he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. A sigh of relief leaves your lips. You didn't want to tell Sanji the truth. That you were too embarrassed to face the swordsman. That his rejection looped continuously through your mind, making it impossible to sleep. Had Zoro really meant what he said ? Were you just making a fool of yourself this whole time? The thought makes you shudder.

Sanji pushes his way through the door to enter the kitchen. He is met with the eyes of his crewmates who waited for him at the table in anticipation . He shakes his head. Nami and Robin release their sighs of disappointment .

"I wonder why she won't join us." Robin inquires.

"First breakfast, now lunch... She must really be feeling bad." Nami continues.

"I can go check on her... " Luffy chimes in "maybe she'll tell me what's wrong."

Luffy goes to grab a handful of the chopped fruit Sanji had placed on the table . Sanji swats his captain's hands away before sitting another plate down, this time sandwiches. Zoro has now entered the kitchen hearing the tale end of the Strawhat's woes. He feels the way the cooks eye borough into his skull, knowing that they're scowling at him. Zoro doesn't look his way. He knows that it is his fault you've gone missing . He doesn't need the cook to remind him.

"Marimo is going to check on her." Sanji announces.

The room falls quite as eyes are now on the swordsman. Nami cringes in disbelief, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't think that's a good id-"

"Don't worry, he'll fix it." Sanji ends Nami's sentence before she has the chance to.

His crew eyes him with unsure stares. Zoro had never been one to offer much comfort, even in the most dark of times. They didn't see how he'd be the answer to their troubles. Sanji does not elaborate on his statement. He offers his crew a smile before setting the homemade chips on the table and announcing lunch is ready.

-

"Sanji , you don't have to keep coming in here every fifteen minutes to check on me. " You say to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door.

You pull the blankets back to face who you thought was the cook. Zoro stood there in his place. His back against the bedroom door like he was still contemplating if he should stay or not. You sit up at the feeling of your heart shooting to your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"You haven't come out all day." He responds as if that answers your question. When you don't say anything back , he assumes he should continue. "They're worried about you."

Zoro's hand falls to the nape of his neck, he rubs sheepishly then looks down at the floor. You roll your eyes, dissatisfied with his answer. You pull the blankets up to cover your face then turn your back to him.

"Go away Zoro."

It hurts him to hear, although he knows he has no right to be upset. When he heard you didn't show up for breakfast, he'd felt worse than when the words initially fell from his mouth. Truth be told he had hid in the crow's nest as long as he could trying not to run into you this morning . Thought that he was giving you space to breathe without his watchful eye.

"I- I was jealous... of you and the cook."

Zoro pauses waiting for a reaction from you to see if he should keep talking or not. There's an unusual shake of fear in his voice you don't recognize. You sit up to face him once again.

"I was mad and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

This has made two apologies from the ever prideful pirate.

"You hurt my feelings." Your voice is soft , fragile as you respond.

"I know..." The swordsman pushes himself from the door to take a step towards you. "If I could eat the words I would."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, searching for an ounce of deception. You know you won't find it . If the swordsman had not meant his words, he would not have gone out of his way to say them. But still you look to reassure yourself.

"Zoro I don't understand makes you so angry about my relationship with Sanji?"

"I don't like it when he touches you." The swordsman confesses.

You smirk at his candor. All this over the playful touches the cook had thrown your way. It was almost too sweet to believe you had the swordsman so twisted at the sight of you sharing your affection. You swing your legs so they fall off the edge of the bed. You're staring at him intently. Zoro is nervous under your gaze . You can tell by the way he fiddles with his fingers aimlessly.

"You don't like when Sanji touches me ?" You repeat. You pause to offer the swordsman a chance to take back his words. But he does not renege.

"...I don't like when anyone touches you."

Your giggle is involuntary. The smirk on your lips is now a full blown smile. Despite the pain that had come from it, you couldn't help but love the thought of the swordsman jealous over you. Before you were just joking , but to hear the words from Zoro's mouth himself was truly blissful.

"Roronoa... Do you have a crush on me?"

"Crush on you?" He ponders like it's the first time he's thought about it. "I don't think that's a strong enough word."

"No?"

He shakes his head taking a step toward you . His hand meets your cheek. He is hesitant. Thinks you may pull away from his touch. But the swordsman is pleasantly surprised when you lean into his hand.

"Sanji says I'm in love with you."

Your heart skips at the word. Love. It sounded so sweet coming from Zoro lips. You wondered what you would have to do to hear him say it again.

"Yeah? And what do you think?"

"I think he might be right."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N : I stared at this so long, I might have it memorized at this point lol. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it , but it is a labor of love nonetheless.

{If you would like to be added to my tag list lemme know! I would Love to have you}

[skzxlevanter]

stray kids reaction with a shy and quiet s/o

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

warnings: petnames, besides that overall fluff, a bit possessive and suggestive if you squint, but not really

found this in my drafts so i decided to complete this cute little drabble :) I’m sorry that there’s not a lot of content coming rn, but i’m still preparing for two remaining finals so i just don’t have the mental capacity and time,,hope you guys understand :/

besides that, enjoy the drabble and feel free to check out other things from my blog :D

bang chan:

oh well he would be so flustered when you get flustered and the two of you would just be a flushing mess most of the time

he really tries everything to not make you uncomfortable, also ordering for you at places and he would be more than patient with you, not wanting to overwhelm you in any way, also being a 100% protective of you

but at the same time he’d try to make things with you that make you come of your shell a bit, things that you usually wouldn’t do, but still not overstepping any boundaries, always letting you know that he‘s here for you

and like i said, he kinda likes it when you get all shy and blushy, sometimes making you blush on purpose and teasing you endlessly for it <3

lee minho

even tho he’d seem quite confident at first, i honestly think that he could be a little set back by the fact that you barely showed affection, but when he figures out that you’re just shy he takes it to his full advance

he does not miss a chance to flutter you when he can by giving you intense glares, or locking you between the wall and him in traditional k-drama style just to see your reaction, but never going overboard because hurting you or making you uncomfortable would actually break his heart

still, he loves it so much when you start to blush and ramble all kind of things when you’re stunned, breaking out into his signature bunny-like smile once he can‘t hold back anymore

and like chan, he would be super patient with you, giving you the space you need until your comfortable around him, not minding at all

seo changbin:

i can see him throwing around endless jokes just to see you getting all shy

he’ll also flex his muscles right in front of you just to see your signature blush

but besides that, even tho he doesn’t really want to admit this, the fact that you’re shy makes him kinda shy too so it might be a bit awkward at first

but the more you open up to each other, the more comfortable you get around each other and the more confident the two of you get

will definitely gently hold your hand anytime ( if you’re okay with it) and loves the time he spends with you nevertheless

hwang hyunjin

he probably wouldn’t quite know how to handle it at first, leading to a lot of awkward laughs

but over time, he’ll grow used to it and takes his time to get to know you as good as he can, letting you get comfortable around him, inviting you to various activities with him like drawing, galleries, random walks, etc…

that is when he’ll start to give you lots of heartfelt compliments, showing how much he appreciates you and helping you to get more confident in your own skin

overall he’ll be so gentle and loving at all times, aware to not hurt your feelings, but still trying to help you grow in the best way possible

han jisung

at first so.many.awkward.silences.

han is still an introvert at heart, so at first he’d don’t know what to do, a lot of doubts about himself rising up, buy when he realizes that it is just how you are, he’ll step up and warm up rather quickly

he’ll start talking non-stop over things he likes, asking you lots of questions while he’s at it to include you too

tries to make you laugh all the time, secretly loves how cute you look when you’re shy and get that little blush on your cheeks

but be ready to fight over who has to order or call people because that is something you’d both despise

lee felix

he’d be so gentle with you. seriously. he would act like you’re about to break any second

he’d immediately notice when you’re uncomfortable, not shying away from speaking up for you when you are and is just constantly making sure you’re okay

“everything alright, love?” // “anything on your mind, you look like something is off?” // “should i speak to them for you?”

in conclusion he will not let anyone make you uncomfortable, including himself, so he always watches your reactions and makes sure to never overstep your boundaries ever <3

kim seungmin

he can be such a menace,, exactly knowing how to push your buttons and thoroughly enjoying when you get all shy and will never stop teasing you

he also loves to take your shyness to his advantage, knowing you love to bury your flushed face in his neck and cuddle into him in embarrassment, so he basically can get affection without actually having to ask for it ;)

but like the others,, he’ll never hurt you, he knows when to stop and won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with

being at public places will also contain a lot of teasing, especially when it comes to ordering something, but in the end he’ll order for you and get you everything you want because he’s a sucker for you

yang jeongin

probably starts to giggle every time you visibly get shy over something, causing him to blush a bit himself

with him there always be a very fine line between him teasing and pushing you a bit out of your comfort zone and him getting shy too,,,but that actually makes it more easy for you to get comfortable, seeing that he can get all blushy and all over the place too

the relationship would therefore be pretty balanced, the two of you respecting each other’s boundaries but also growing together too, maybe even setting small challenges to achieve from time to time to get a bit more confident

but in the end, dates would mostly end up in quiet places or just at home, where the two of you are all in private and comfortable without a soul (be aware of incidents with the other boys tho) interrupting you

masterlist

[kinkandkreep]

𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝑺𝒆𝒙-𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝/𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Loooong tongue

Makes effective use of it too

Likes to roughly (tongue) fuck you

He likes the way it makes you bounce 

Speaking of bouncing 

PLEASE sit on his face 

Suffocate him 

Gets pussy drunk really easily 

Use a more firm/controlling hand when you ride him (face or dick) and you'd swear you see hearts in his eyes 

Lives to bring you pleasure 

But also isn't shy about taking his own 

Has a prominent underside vein that trails the length of his cock that is highly sensitive 

Will curse up a storm if you tease it with your tongue 

Gentle undulations from the soft, moist muscle that is your throat around his cock leave Miguel a moaning, loose limbed mess 

Will leave you with a scratched up back if you move your hips just right 

Scratches in mind, Miguel is always careful not to hurt you too severely with his talons

He also is very cognizant of his own enhanced strength, and controls himself accordingly 

BUT 

He absolutely can and will go feral on you if you provoke him enough 

"Provoke him how?" you may ask

Well, here's a quick fire list of things that drive Miguel's libido through the roof:

Calling him daddy/papi

Scratching the hair at the base of his scalp with your nails 

Sucking his tongue 

Wearing his clothes 

Pulling/tugging his hair (he luhs dat shit)

Complimenting him in any way 

Like literally you just have to breathe in his direction and I promise you he'll be ready 

Loves to fuck you in the raunchiest positions

He most likes you face down, tongue out, ass up, his hands around your throat 

Also, the messier the better with him

Definitely a breeding kink

He would adore seeing you heavy with either his cum or his babies or both 

Is quite vocal 

Has the prettiest, breathiest moans and whispers

Is a strong proponent for body worship 

Likes to lavish you in kisses and positive affirmation 

Can be just as gentle and sweet as he can be rough and domineering

Aight sis 👏🏾, now les talk about deez fangs a' his 

Sizable, as we've all seen, wickedly sharp and, as I imagine it, very sensitive to temperature and other external stimuli

While I don't think Miguel has a thing for drinking your blood, he certainly has a thing for drawing it 

Likes to see pretty crimson decorate your skin 

It gives him a bit of a head rush to know that you trust him (and his restraint 🙃) enough to allow him to bite you 

Which, he definitely does bite you

Not always hard enough to draw blood, but it happens 

He thinks your fascination with his fangs is hot

Actually come to think of it, that’s another one of those things that turns him on

That thing being you licking over or just generally appreciating his fangs 

Very handsy

He also loves to man handle you with his super strength

Has an overall strength kink but it's his own strength that turns him on

I said before that Miguel prefers fluffier girls and I meant that, so if you’re heavier he loves to A.) give you reassurance that you’re beautiful and B.) massage and rub you all over

He especially likes the way the fat of your breasts spills through the gaps between his fingers when he grabs them 

May or may not have a bit of a mommy kink 👀

Sorry these are so all over the place y’all, I just have many horny thoughts about him and they all tried to spill out of me at once, so there you have it. 😂 I'll probably add more as I think of them, or just create a part two.

Hope you enjoyed! And feel free to share your sex-canons about Miguel in the comments! 

[cynarisgayass]

Sorry for lack of post, work has been absolutely kicking my ass, so I'll drop these little low effort headcannons I came up with after doing the newest genshin event. GN fairy reader. Slight spoilers??

Also to the person who sent in your Zzz request I promise I will work on it soon. Forgive me.

Wanderer:

He's very much the type of guy who even though he thinks of you as the gorgeous forest fairy, he's not gonna say it to your face. He will show up when you need help and act all reluctant about doing things for you even though he enjoys them. Then one day out of nowhere he will be staring at you and just accidentally blurt out what he's feeling like, "You're beautiful sunshine."

Then we all die.

Navia:

Girl literally calls you her partner and would die for you, so to say she'd be the type to compliment you with no shame is a understatement. The two of you would be walking through the paper woods and she would just go, "By the way, I just thought I'd tell you how much I appreciate you and all you have done for me. You truly have my heart, partner." And then she'd wink at you as your face turned bright red.

Kazuha:

Why's he here? Cause I like him shush. Anyways, forest fairies are a great source of inspiration for poems yeah, but he'd also want to draw you as well. Combine both his word building of your powers and beauty along with a image that he says could never truly capture the wonder that you are, but give those who look at it a glimpse. Then he'd ask if you wanted to sit under a paper tree and share bulle fruits with the flying squirrels.

Diluc:

Lets be honest, he wouldn't believe you at first. Forest fairy? Not real. Then he'd look around him, see the paper forest and probably have a little mini panic attack without moving a single muscle or looking any different on the outside. He'd eventually loosen up after you explain things and I don't know why, but I totally see him dancing with a fairy reader. If it helps the forest...he will oblige, albeit reluctantly.

Alhaitham:

Wouldn't be fazed in the slightest. Couldn't actually care less that he's in a different world, he's read fairytales before, he's seen what visions can do so it's no shock to him. You however, kinda surprise him. Normally he's always nonchalant about others, but you...he doesn't mind letting you sit with him while he reads. He doesn't even mind helping you when you need him too, his ways of romancing are subtle, but sweet.

Damn, actually wrote alot of these. I wanna do this again with more time and I'm also hungering to write some smut too so whenever I'm not struggling to stay awake after work I'll be posting more~

[korpuskat]

Metal in Flesh

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (GN, has a vagina) Rating: E WC: 4.4k Warnings: None, it's pure smut & fluff. A special thank you to @statuetochka for indulging my silly ideas & drawing his hands so much. ===

He tastes like his machine oil. Freshly cleaned, not a trace of dirt between his purple-painted joints. It’s hard not to flex your tongue against him, to explore the little creases in his plates that tease the side of your tongue.

But the hand on your jaw and the precarious placement of his fingers- two under your tongue, his thumb on top, keep you still. He’s exploring. Though it’s not your tongue itself that he’s examining. He drags his thumb down, making the object of his obsession spin- a particularly strange feeling that is still novel even after so long healed.

It’s only taken him a few months into your relationship to notice- or at least to ask about it.

“…Why?” Is the particularly succinct question he comes up with.

“Becath aylikith”

Ramattra’s gaze lifts ever so slightly, from your pinned tongue to your face. Reluctantly, he lets go. You push saliva over your tongue, wetting it before you try speaking again.

“I said, because I like it. I like how it looks.”

“Aesthetics?” Ramattra tips his head, looks down to your lips. You obligingly open your mouth again and present the jeweled rod again. This time, he just looks at it, rather than trapping the muscle for investigation. “I would think that should hurt rather badly just for aesthetics.”

“It did.” You confirm. “When I first got it, it hurt a lot, I couldn’t even eat the first day. But it’s all healed now. Doesn’t hurt at all.” To prove it, you catch the bead on your top lip and pull your tongue sideways, making the entire piercing rotate again. “Besides, you’re in no place to judge; I know you also changed stuff on yourself for how it looked.”

He scoffs, “That is hardly the same. Repainting my enamel coat isn’t remotely painful, nor did it impair such a basic, important function as eating.” He touches the purple plate at the back of one hand with the other. It’s more subconscious than anything, but you still watch his hands with that same fascination. “Besides, my modifications aren’t exclusively aesthetics.”

You grin widely. That kind of stubbornness, the mild disdain in his vocoder… It’s so easy to goad him. “Neither is mine! It has a very good use, actually.”

Ramattra’s head actually bobs as he modulates a disbelieving noise, “Really? Exactly what functional purpose does a metal rod in your mouth serve?”

Excitement washes over you and you don’t bother trying to hide it. “I can show you! I’ve kind of been meaning to for a while, actually, but you keep insisting I don’t have to.” This alone makes his head twitch to the side, perplexed, intrigued. You reach for his hand, and he happily allows you to take it and bring it back to your face, much too curious.

Here, you pause and stare up at the dark slits for his optics. His huge fingers caress over your cheek, cool and firm against your skin as you gently kiss the circular rubber pad of his palm. Ramattra hums softly- which breaks into a stuttered, staticked mess of a noise as you lick that rubber pad. He can feel it, you’re almost sure given the twitching of his fingers against your cheek. Those pads are sensitive, meant for traction and precision- you know he must feel the warmth, the softness of your tongue completely surrounding the hard point of the piercing’s ball. Even with your spit, the metal drags against rubber, catching on the textured ridges.

“You--” His voice cuts out, glitches sharply as though gasping. It’s a rare treat to see him worked up, indulging his own desires, so you bask in the roughened sound of his voice and the dull hum of his ventilation system ramping up. “I should have known it would be that...”

You grin again, then kiss his palm innocently, as though you don’t feel the warmth that’s now radiating from him. “I did want to use it sooner. You’re too selfless for your own good.” You pull on his arm and he allows you, lets you trail kisses up the smooth plate of his forearm. “Can try it now, though.”

His nod is sharp, firm enough to jostle the endcaps of his mane. “Yes, perhaps I would… enjoy that.”

You snicker, but don’t comment on the breathy tone his voice takes, already dysregulated from a single lick, don’t comment on how quickly he sits on the bed that he’d gotten for your sake nor the speed with which he releases the latches on his pelvic plate. Air rushes from his vents again, almost like a sigh as his cock bobs freely.

You might never get used to it, knowing that he made something so obscene just for you… The thrill of it- of all of him- rushes through you, makes your belly heat. But you set that aside for now, instead pushing the golden joints of his legs apart and lowering yourself down to your knees. Which only makes your growing desire ever worse.

Like this you’re so very, very aware of how big he is. Built for war, he dwarfs you in every way. Beside you, his thin, bird-like legs are almost up to your shoulder, just barely giving you enough room to comfortably lay your arms on his thighs. Looking up at him… He sits so stiffly, one hand curled into the previously pristine sheets, the other is curled across the lowest part of faceplate as though obscuring his mouth. Shy, maybe, you think. Would make sense- he doesn’t particularly enjoy receiving one-sided attention. So, you smile up at him, rub your hands soothingly across his canvas-covered thighs and hope that soothes him.

Finally, you let your eyes wander back down his body. Slowly, you ease your hands in from his legs until they brush the base of his cock, where the silicone meets his inner frame. Without any lubricant it’s a dry, sticking feeling, but it’s still enough for you to hear the hum of his fans pitch up in anticipation.

He’s been so patient, so nice to finally let you try this, so you only tease him a little more. You straighten up and stare up at his faceplace, hands moving firmly onto his cock as though you’re going to take him into your mouth immediately. He tenses, waits the sudden onslaught of your mouth around him-- and finds instead your soft lips laying against the smooth head, pressing a delicate kiss to the silicone. Ramattra’s legs twitch,, a little whiny noise coming from somewhere inside him-

And you lower your head down, dragging the tip of your tongue from the base of his cock all the way up. His ventilation kicks and a staticked gasp slips from his vocoder. With only the tip, not yet letting him feel the jewelry, you lick at him, you flick your tongue against the soft ridge at the head of his cock until you think you might break him.

Ramattra hisses your name, somewhere between a plea and a threat. Desire surges in your core again, but you think he's been patient enough. Slowly, deliberately letting him watch as you move- you open your mouth and ease his tip past your lips.

Immediately, Ramattra groans, both hands twisting into his sheets as he processes your warm, soft mouth on his cock. He's big enough that even just his tip makes your jaw twinge in annoyance, but you relax your muscles and urge him further in. His body bursts with heat, already struggling to keep up with the hot air that’s soaking his processors- but that's not quite the reaction you were expecting. So you press your tongue firmly against the underside of his tip- though you aren't sure if Ramattra's cock is particularly sensitive here too- and drag the piercing over the ridge.

A high-pitched noise spits from his vocoder, almost a yelp as his whole body flinches. You'd almost worry you hurt him, that the metal was too rough on the silicone, except for the rough, rolling gasp that comes after. For Ramattra it's a distinct feeling- your mouth all soft and inviting and one firm bead of resistance that pushes back against him, that emphasizes each stroke of your tongue along his cock. It's addicting, one tiny piece of metal in all of that plush flesh. His hand lifts- nearly burying itself in your hair unbidden, but he kills the impulse- tries desperately to be still for you.

You gently bob your head, working up to a slow rhythm. With each motion you keep your tongue moving, sweeping across the silicone. Each time you move down, you try to take in more of him, slowly inching his cock deeper until he's prodding at the back of your throat. The first touch makes you gag, your mouth tightening around him as spit floods your mouth- and Ramattra's hips jump, momentarily fucking you mouth- and he moans.

You clit throbs at the single rough thrust, at the absolutely musical noise from his speakers- his need completely betrayed with the strain on his synth, the first touches of static to his voice. A desperate whimper escapes you just knowing that you're the one making him feel like that and Ramattra sucks in air in turn, his fists curled so tightly you can hear his actuators whining.

Even just listening to his pleasure, knowing you’re the one causing it-- it's all too much. You take him in deep again, sucking his cock with purpose, but you slip one hand between your legs. Trying to keep your focus on him is nearly impossible when you can hardly think with how badly you need to be touched. You shove your pants down and the first touch on your clit is near ecstasy. Sucking his cock, hearing his appreciation alone has left you swollen and soaked, trembling with pleasure as you moan shamelessly around his cock. You circle your clit and shiver, the pace of your tongue on him stuttering-

And this time, Ramattra doesn’t stop the impulse. Ramattra's fingers curl into your hair. You expect him to push you down, that his self control is broken, that he'll fuck your throat and-

he pulls you up. Your scalp stings softly, but you can only mewl in confusion, in desire- how must you look to him? Your own spit covering his cock, eyes glazed over in lust, one hand working yourself with a desperation- and Ramattra catches your arm with his other hand. You whimper, a mindless plea of no, please don't stop- as he pulls again, draws you up, up off the floor-

And you think for a moment he's going to fuck you, to get you in his lap-

“Come here.” His voice is almost unintelligible, harsh with static. He doesn’t even let you comply, dragging your body onto the bed with him as he lays back. Your head spins, too clouded to understand what he wants- which is fine, because he moves you exactly how he's thinking. He pulls you on top of him, legs spread wide over his broad chest and then spins you around so you're looking at his cock again.

That's all the prompting you need. Still spit-slicked, you take him into your mouth again. The new angle is different, unusual- his cock arcs down towards your tongue, making it easier to take him deeper-- and making the press of your piercing into him all the more intense. Ramattra makes some noise behind you- and you would try to squeeze your hand beneath yourself to keep rubbing, but with your belly pressed to his, it’s too tight a fit. The metal of his chest would dig into your wrist too much. But your clit aches, too needy to be ignored. Desperate, you rut your hips against his chest, hoping to find any friction at all against his hard bands of armor-

And Ramattra's big hands land on your hips.

He pulls you back- back as far as he can without dislodging your mouth from his cock. You want to ask, can't seem to understand what he's doing- until each thumb slips between your legs. You moan softly, try to question what he’s doing, but if he hears you, he makes no response. Ramattra parts your folds, revealing your pussy. Warm air washes over your sex- another rush of his ventilation- and you whimper, twisting in his hands at the embarrassment of him looking at you so closely.

You don't expect the press of cool metal directly to your clit.

The temperature makes you jolt away from him, but his hands keep you still, keep your clit trapped right against his faceplate as Ramattra moans. All crackling and ruined, his voice is vibration right against your clit- and you finally understand. You bob your head again, determined to keep those noises coming from his synth.

You sink down on him, taking as much as you can. Ramattra purrs against your pussy, a low rumble that makes your hips twitch, rutting back against his face, your clit rubbing delightfully on the divot between his faceplate and jaw. It’s so primal, needy-- and Ramattra’s grasp on your hips shifts, pulling you towards him again, urging you to keep going. You’re so close already it’s hard to hold any rhythm, but he helps, pushing his mouth against you each time you come up on his cock- and each time your piercing catches the tip he moans, a bolt of static pleasure rumbling directly into your clit.

You can’t help it. You dig your nails into the coverings on his thighs, try desperately to focus on him, on making him cum- but the sound of him, the taste of his cock, and the incessant buzzing of his moans against your pussy are too much. Your rhythm breaks entirely as he pushes you over the edge. Your own noises are muffled, lost to the silicone in your throat. Metal hands keep your thighs spread as they twitch and try to close around him, forcing you to feel as he moans, praises you indistinctly through your orgasm- the words lost against the overwhelming feeling of the continued vibration of your clit.

You can’t think, the pleasure too sharp, too strong- you try to squirm away, to get any relief, but his grasp shifts, one arm now wrapped around your waist to keep you still. The other presses to the back of your head. His hips lift- and he as fucks your mouth desperately.

Ramattra moans, all static-garbled and needy, still rumbling against your pussy. And still you work your piercing against him, match his careful pace with hard licks of your tongue- and each panting, growing moan you can feel him getting closer, every Ah, ah, ah- buzzing harder into your clit as acute pain- a raw overstimulation that only builds into whimpering, twitching second wave that makes your whole body tremble in his hands-

And it’s your hips throat twitching around him again that makes him gasp- the rushed intake of air and firm press of his face against your pussy in a long, droning note as he overloads entirely. His hips thrust up into your mouth one more time before steam rushes from his vents, fills the room with hot air and every joint in his body goes lax.

For a long time you lay there, shivering and boneless. His arms are a pleasant, heavy weight across your back, a good counterpoint to the weak shudders your body gives from time to time. Your clit and throat ache, but it’s a monumental task to move yourself just enough to no longer be choking on his dick or have your over sensitive clit pressed to his firm metal. It takes three tries on your shaking arms before you can manage it.

You lay there, limp and much too tired to try to extricate yourself further from the heft of him. Instead, you close your eyes and enjoy the silence, letting your body relax and cool off until the soft harmony of Ramatta’s internals returns. First, the hum of his processors, then the fans of his ventilation resume, much quieter than they had been before- then his lights return. Positioned as you are, you don’t see his array’s lights, but you do watch as the indicator lights in his cock turn from a yellow- muddied by the purple tinting in the silicone- to green, to finally red.

Ramattra’s fingers twitch on your back, and you laugh slightly as he mimics clearing his throat. He gently lifts your hips and helps you roll off of him, but with a limp waving request of your hand, he then helps you to turn around and lean against his broad chest, half on top of him again.

If you had any energy left at all, you’d be embarrassed- or perhaps aroused again- at the sight of his faceplate; he’s soaked. Everything between his optics down to the tip of his chin is coated in your wetness.

And yet when he speaks, “I apologize I was… overly enthusiastic.” It’s all contrition. One hand touches the side of your neck, a silent voicing of fear of injury.

Instead, you press your face to his hand and he meets you halfway, stroking along your cheekbone with unspoken reverence. “But you liked it?” While his voice has been perfectly reset, yours is still rough, rasping from the strain on your throat.

“I…” He starts- and immediately his fans hum louder again. Your lips barely crack into a knowing smile before he admits it, “Yes. It was… enjoyable.”

“See, more than just aesthetics.” You say, melting onto his chest more, idly stroking at the long pistons mimicking collar bones.

“I suppose I have to agree. You can hardly see it to begin with.”

“Maybe you should give me a piercing you can see, then.” You say it offhanded, a little joke-

“What? I couldn’t.” Ramattra shoots back immediately, “I have no experience with that.”

And his rejection only makes the idea more appealing, more real. “No, wait, think about it! You could research how to do it and where. Your hands wouldn’t shake, you’d be able to center it better-- I bet you could even design it yourself…” You grin and look up at the dark slits for his optics, half pleading. “Come on, at least you’d be saving me money and a trip out.”

Ramattra’s hands on you stop moving, but he doesn’t pull away. So completely motionless, you know he’s processing it, mulling the idea over. “You… want me to pierce you?”

“Well. Yeah, I guess? I mean I like piercings and I think you’d do a good job… and…” You blush softly, finally averting your gaze from his as though this is somehow more intimate than sucking his cock until he overloaded and cumming on his face twice. “Maybe I kinda… like the idea of having jewelry that you made, that you put there…”

His design on your body. It’s not just intimate; it’s possessive. A silent, private mark of your relationship… If you weren’t not so thoroughly spent, it might bring another wave of heat between your legs. He must have come to the same conclusion, because something shudders in Ramattra’s chest.

“I see.” He says coolly, as though you don’t feel the streams of hot air that again slip from his vents. “Then, I will look into it.”

In all, it takes Ramattra three days. Three days before he’s guiding you into his workshop and lifting you up onto his desk. The thrill of how easily he picks you up- big hands cradling your rib cage as he sets you onto the metal surface- always makes you a little giddy. Even more so is the little purple velvet box that sits nearby. You reach for it-

And Ramattra snatches the box up with a tut, “No peeking.”

“Fine.” You sigh exaggeratedly, watching as he skims over the tools he’s acquired in the last half week. A bottle of antiseptic, forceps, a marker-- and your eyes wander to a small package of needles. Your stomach tightens a little just seeing them, so you look at him instead, distracting yourself as Ramattra finishes his preparations. “Where did you decide?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead gently putting one finger under your chin and turning your head away. His other hand drifts over your ear- and eventually catches the little flap in front of your ear canal between thumb and forefinger. “Here.” His hands abandon you, turning back to his tools and grabbing the marker. “It is called the tragus.”

You hum in acknowledgement, but otherwise keep still as he focuses on your ear. Carefully, methodically- Ramattra touches the tip of the marker to your skin.

He draws your chin back towards him, examining the dot he’s made from the front before retrieving and handing you a mirror. “This is… acceptable?” He prompts as you look at your reflection. You could almost laugh; the ink of the marker is perfectly centered- likely is, mathematically. You knew he’d be good at this.

“Yeah, it looks perfect.” You look at the mark a moment more, picturing jewelry in its spot. It is… a strange location. “Why’d you pick this one?”

Ramattra pauses, his turn towards his tools a little too intentional. “If you wish to remove it later, any scarring should not be too disruptive.”

Something tightens in your chest. You reach out to him, gently touch his forearm. His head only slightly turns back towards you, just enough for you to see the corner of one slit. “I’m not going anywhere.” You say it, squeeze his arm again and hope he’ll internalize it this time. His only response is a small hum, an acknowledgement of the words, if not their meaning. So, you redirect him. “Can I see the jewelry now?”

Again, Ramattra hesitates, but caves with a halting, “Yes, I suppose so.” He holds the box a second too long- so tiny in his big hands- but offering it to you.

You don’t even hide your ecstatic grin as you take it- too excited at the possibilities. His designs are always so sleek, but you don’t know what he would choose for you to wear. You crack open the box- and the first thing you recognize is the color. Purple- the exact shade as his accents, as his jaw. But it’s not just his paint- you hold the tiny box closer and squint. It’s almost an inverted teardrop shape, but not quite. There is a silver dot embedded in the lower half, the point that would be sharp is clipped, a notch taken out of the wider top… You look at it for a moment longer- and your excitement melts into something warmer, recognition.

“It’s your chest plate…” You murmur and reach for him again. Only the lower half is visible under his tan cowl, but Ramattra stands still, lets you lift the soft fabric to reveal his own inverted teardrop- the purple latch right in the center of his chest.

“There’s more…” His voice falters, rasping through a whisper, strained with the same feeling that’s twisting in your throat.

You look back to the jewelry, unsure how there could be more meaning lain into it- but you take it from the little velvet cushions that hold it in place- and understand. The back of it is green with tiny golden lines etched into it. A circuit board. You brow pinches for a moment, dragging a nail over the back- feeling the protective coating over the circuits. It’s too small, too clipped to be functional. Just decorative, symbolic?

“When I…” He starts and stops, stepping closer to you- laying one hand on the outside of your thigh. “When I installed…. that I also had to replace and redesign some chips that were in my hips for functionality. I… kept the originals.”

“This is… you?” You murmur, tracing the tiny golden threads again. An actual chip from his body… “Or, was part of you?”

Ramattra nods stiffly, watches as you examine the tiny thing. “It’s… acceptable?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle, “I love it, Rama…” then hurriedly put the jewelry back in its box and shove it back towards him. You rub at your watering eyes and force out a tight, “Hurry up and pierce me before I cry.”

Ramattra nods again, shifting easily into his practiced movements. He swaps your ear with antiseptic and dips the piercing into the bottle, laying it on a sheet to dry as he picks up his tools. You focus on his faceplate and stare up at him as he steps in front of you. He waits there a moment- soaks in your gaze before touching your chin and urging you to turn your head just as he had earlier.

You close your eyes, don’t look as he clamps the forceps down.

“Breathe.” His voice rumbles, so close to your ear. You shiver, but obey- taking in the cool air of his workspace, the scent of his oil, relax into the warm proximity of him-

And as you exhale he pierces you. Hot pain washes over the whole side of your head. You clench your teeth, try not to flinch as he moves quickly, replacing pieces with a smoothness that you should’ve expected from him.

“Good,” He praises, still low and quiet and so close to you- and finally he pushes his design into the backing.

Ramattra steps away, but you grab at him- hands landing on the silver handles at his hips. He stops, turns towards you- and the tears you’d managed to suppress before being stabbed boil over.

“Does it hurt? I-”

You’re crying before you can even wrap your arms around him.And realizing you’re crying into his cowl- your face pressed right up against the exact plate he used as a design makes you weep harder. But he steps right up against the table and shushes you, strokes your back with an affection no one else has even seen in him.

“I love you,” You manage between shoulder-racking sobs- and something inside Ramattra shudders.

So quickly he adjusts, no longer holding you to his broad chest, but near doubling over, half lifting you off the table to press his faceplate into your shoulder. He buries himself in the warmth of your body- and shudders again as your grasp scrabbles over his back, no longer cinched around his tiny waist, but sliding up under his cowl, grabbing at the long bars of armor and holding yourself up against him.

“I love you so much,” You murmur to him, half broken by sniffles- and he squeezes your ribs in turn.

[babygorewhore]

Psychoanalyze

Cooper Adams/Abbott x therapist!fem reader

Serial killer the Butcher is in your house. You have to use your training to keep yourself from becoming his next victim. But he has a surprising reaction to your survival tactic.

Gif credit belongs to @billy-crudup

Warnings! A lot. Talks of his crimes! Reader is a behavioral therapist at a hospital! Manipulation! Switch! Cooper! But he submissive at first. Mommy kink but only used once! Reader is vaguely described to be midsize range. Praise, Degrading, oral fem receiving, fingering, face slapping, spitting, scratching, hair pulling, unprotected sex, choking, stomach bulge. Cum eating? Filthy talk tbh. They’re both fucked up. Reader is dominated second half of fic. Finger sucking.

“Make sure to keep your doors locked, Mom. Set the alarm too.” You instruct your worried mother over the phone. You gave her a step by step reminder on how to alert the alarm just using her app.

You sighed and hung up after a few minutes. You saw the news earlier, reading the headline about Cooper being the Butcher. It made you feel cold and empty. Being a counselor, you are trained to study human behavior. He also happened to work close to you.

Still early in your career, you were working in the behavioral unit at the local hospital. The fire department was always called during emergencies and you saw him on a regular basis.

One afternoon, during a particularly chaotic shift, you had talked down a violent patient who had gotten a hold of a nurse.

Cooper watched you the whole time with a dark expression on his face and it made you feel on edge. He gave you a feeling that beneath his friendly, pep in his step, easy going act that there was something else. Something he hid away.

Turns out, it was worse than you could have imagined. Bodies, dismemberment and a seven year long manhunt over the man who’d vowed to save lives.

You finished chewing a piece of candy, tossing the trash in the garbage and turned around. You immediately covered your mouth as a gasp escaped you, losing your balance as your lower back hit the counter painfully.

Cooper was sitting at your table, tense and his hand was inches away from a knife. His plaid shirt was unbuttoned at the top. You swallowed back the urge to sprint, knowing he’d lunge at you and enjoy the fear.

“How did you get in?” You asked simply, straightening your spine.

“I have a key.” He answered in the same casual tone. You nodded and turned your head but Cooper cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t consider that. By the time you grab something or try and run, it’ll be too late.”

You weighed your options. Cooper was a very big man. Strong and stealthy. More than you anticipated. You could try anyway, use speed to your advantage but instead you tried another tactic.

“Cooper, if you leave and don’t hurt me, I won’t call the police for an hour. Giving you a good head start.”

“I like your confidence.” Cooper’s compliment sent shivers across your body and you clenched your fingers into a fist. The tension in the air was thick and he leaned forward.

“I would appreciate it if you sat down.” Although the statement was polite, you knew he wasn’t really asking. He was commanding you.

You eased yourself down onto the chair, your muscles flexing and he grazed his fingers along the knife handle. Cooper inhaled deeply and extended his hand.

“May I have your phone? I’d rather not take it from you.”

You gave him your device, making sure the screen was still locked and he tucked it in his pocket.

“You perplex me.” He tells you, making your eyebrows draw together. “Normally, I see someone who thinks they’re whole and I get the urge to tear them apart.” Cooper savors those last words, as if speaking them could make him relive his crimes. “But with you, I get the feeling that you don’t actually have things together. That it’s all an act.”

You were terrified. Every single nerve in your body was telling you to run away but Cooper’s dark eyes implored yours. Keeping you still and he set a firm palm on your arm. His touch was warm and you flinched.

“I want you to try and understand me. Watching you work is like watching…artwork.” He humorlessly laughed and your bottom lip quivered.

You searched your brain for any memory of what the news said about the Butcher. Organized offender, terrible relationship with his mother, position of authority. It was one thing to hear these things versus having a patient with these traits.

“I think you do really love your kids.” That you did know. You saw their picture as the background of his phone. The only sign of humanity showed when he talked about his children. Cooper gave you a small smirk.

“You…you want to be accepted for who you are. You want to be told that you’re enough. That you’re lovable.” You were grasping at straws but trying to sound collected.

Cooper looked away and you knew that hit a nerve. “You want someone to take care of you.” You continued and moved forward. “Am I on the right track?” He jerked his head in a nod.

“You’re a good boy and you can keep being one. If you just do the right thing and don’t hurt me.” You whispered, setting your hands on his knees. This was incredibly stupid and risky but Cooper blinked rapidly.

“I’m not going to hurt you anymore, Cooper. I promise. Just promise me that you’ll be a good boy?”

Your question went unanswered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You yelped, your legs dangling as he carried you to the bedroom. Normally, you hated the idea of someone picking you up but Cooper easily hauled you on the bed. You landed in a heap on your back. You climbed on your elbows, watching him remove his shirt in the dim lighting.

His mountain sized form shook as he crawled on top of you. Cooper kept his weight from crushing you and you sighed in disbelief as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

The fact that a serial killer was in your bedroom, breathing against your skin shirtless made you half wonder if this was a dream. But your body was betraying you. Your senses were leaving as Cooper’s full lips pressed against your pulse point.

Your legs instinctively widened and he settled further in between them. His thick thighs covered in jeans rubbing against you. You had on pajama shorts, exposing your curves and he ran his hand down until it settled on your hip.

Cooper gave it a steady squeeze as his tongue darted out, tasting your skin and he groaned. Your nipples were hardening inside your hoodie and you ached to touch him but held yourself back. This was wrong, this was so incredibly wrong!

“Let me worship you,” He grunted and peppered kisses down your chest. Cooper tugged down the zipper of your shirt, exposing your tits and he took a nipple in his mouth.

His teeth grazed the bud and you whined. Back arching and he started sucking hard enough to leave marks. You hadn’t been fucked in a while, too busy with your job to spend time with anyone but Cooper’s desperate noises made your core pulse.

“Such pretty tits, you taste so good. I can’t wait to sample how sweet you are,” Cooper peeled off your shorts and underwear. You saw him slide them into his pocket before he distracted you with his mouth traveling down your stomach.

His hands were heavy and firm. Laced with age and calluses but he did have a gentleness that prevented unpleasant pain. Instead of pushing your legs as wide as possible, Cooper held your knees. Keeping your thighs high and you couldn’t squirm away.

All your thoughts merged together and seemed into the present moment. You didn’t think about how dangerous he was or that he broke into your house.

“You’re being such a good boy,” You whimpered and Cooper released a guttural moan. He hungrily sucked your clit, making you cry out and bury your hands in his hair.

The silky strands between your fingers were the only way you could ground yourself as he spit and licked up after himself. Your pussy clenched around his tongue and your entire body burned. Cooper wasn’t tentative at all like the other men you’d been with. He buried his entire face, his nose hitting your center and he humped the bed. You knew he wasn’t just eating you out for your pleasure, it was for his own too. You could barely breathe from the pressure in your stomach and lungs as he held your knees tighter.

Your ass was almost off the mattress as Cooper devoured your cunt. His large size gave you a small reality check that he could easily kill you. You shrieked when you released one leg and pressed two girthy fingers inside you. He was able to reach the deepest spot, curling them and making your mouth hang open. It was enough that your climax was scratching the surface. Cooper’s intensity increased and he added another finger as he messily licked your clit.

An explosion hit you, making you let out an embarrassingly loud wail and your free leg clamped around his head. Your cum gave him more slickness as Cooper continued fingering you through it. His lips hovered above your pussy, pressing open mouth kisses against your lower stomach.

Even in the low lighting, you could see the black lust in his gaze as he lifted up. Sticky arousal coated the entire lower half of his face.

“Did that feel good, mommy?” His voice was croaky, almost like he was going to cry and you moaned. You undid his belt, furiously pulling down his pants and boxers.

Your leg hoisted around his waist and you pushed him onto his back. Cooper threw his head back as you situated yourself on top. His dick was big, throbbing as you lined yourself and sank down. He huffed and you laced your fingers with his.

You started rocking, sweat gathering on your skin but he only remained pinned down for a few seconds. He sat up, cupping the back of your head and crushed your lips together. The kiss wasn’t romantic. It was harsh, brutal and bordering on rage.

Your nails raked down his arms, making him growl against your mouth and he pulled your lower lip with his teeth. You gripped his cheeks, spitting in his mouth and then you slapped him.

Cooper looked animalistic as he drove his hips harder into you. It felt like you were going to split open, like it wasn’t going to fit all the way.

“Pathetic little boy,” You hit him again, this time on the other side. “You like that? Like being punished?” Your words were filled with venom and he was trembling so hard it was difficult to keep fucking him.

Cooper’s release hit him violently and he made noises that almost brought you to a second orgasm. Cum seeped in your pussy and your cunt hurt from how turned on you were. He sputtered and groaned. His arms were crushing you but you enjoyed the discomfort.

Whatever submission he had, it vanished as he flipped you over. Cooper’s hand shoved your face down into the pillow as he maneuvered your ass up.

You panted as he sharply slapped your ass, his tip rubbing against your slit. Drool pooled out of your mouth and Cooper pinned your dominant arm behind your back.

“You think you’ve beaten me? By making me bust my load that quickly?” He slammed into you balls deep and it hurt enough to make tears spring. Feeling you recoil inward, he massaged your clit and made you let out a pornographic sound.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be nothing but a cum slut for me. I’m gonna make it drip out of you,” He thrusted hard, making the bed move and you bit down on the material of the pillow.

“You’re fucking helpless. You get that? I could hurt you and you couldn’t stop it.” He laughed, a crazed noise that horrified you. But his dick kept you from acting like a rational person.

“I was going to make you my victim but now you’re gonna be my whore.” Cooper’s filthy words made you choke on a sob as you came on his cock.

He didn’t let you stay in that position, merely tossing you on your back and shoving his dick in. But he did allow you to touch him, claw at his back and wrap your legs around him. Cooper locked his hand around your throat and you were rendered entirely at his mercy.

His frame caged you in and he pressed on your stomach with his other palm.

“Cream on my dick. Your pussy is so goddamn tight, I can feel it like this,” You were delirious and he tapped your cheek with two fingers. “Awww, what’s wrong, princess? Cock so good you went stupid on me?”

His mocking was followed by his seed gushing into you. Cooper rode out his orgasm and pulled out. He jerked himself off, covering your stomach in cum. Taking his finger, he pushed it past your lips. Making you taste both of your releases.

“You’re mine now. And you’re going to be a good little slut. Aren’t you?” You mindlessly nodded, sucking his digit and Cooper gave you a wicked smile.

“Atta girl. Now, get on the floor. Start at the door and crawl to me.”

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @amethystblackkchaos @cryobabyy @hereforthehitsbaby @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @rottenangel @rosaleelovesdilfs @strangererotica @justafangirls-blog @coopers-bunny @thebutchersbitch @redpillbluepill @rubyfruitjungle @lovalova444 @oceanblvd111 @stillwjk-channie-lixie

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[celaenaeiln]

Am I interested in Dick Grayson's innovativeness and how that makes him a terrifying opponent?

Nah, not really, no, it's no- EXCEPT THAT I AM!

I love your analysis and honestly, I always surf through the dick Grayson tag once a day to see if u have posted. Pls drop the innovatiness wala analysis. I would absolutely eat it up

ADSAJHFGAJLHADJLHA YOU CAN'T SEDUCE ME LIKE THAT-MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!

But I am here to deliver *bows*

Let's start this off with a bang

Dick is completely naked except for a towel and with one (well defined) leg he hooks the handle of the beer bucket and sends it smashing into Midnighter to stop him from using the knife on another person.

Pure. Fucking. Platinum.

That move was so delicious, there's an ease-fluidity-grace-to that split second movement. Also notice how accurate his aim is despite swinging it with the arc of his toes. The bucket slammed right into the medulla oblongata, or more specifically the pyramidal tracts which are crucial for controlling voluntary muscular movements. Nerves from the brain cross over at that area as they go down and then synapse onto other nerves that are responsible for controlling muscles when they leave the spinal cord. The precision at which he aimed the bucket is glorious. And with what? His feet.

The only reason Midnighter wasn't injured is because he is a meta which is the point. Otherwise Dick wouldn't have aimed there unless he was fighting an enemy.

Oh that brings me to my next point.

Dick has extraordinary control of his actions

He's so right though. Nightwing doesn't need to kill because fighting is too easy for him. I swear he has some kind of messed up idea (aside from his need to be absolutely good) that killing someone with a gun would take the joy out of fighting. He loves to live life on the hardest mode only.

The rapid fire throw of the gun, calculating the distance, time, velocity of return, and angle? I mean I studied physics and calculating even half of that on paper is a headache. The fact that he did it in one second? It's extraordinary. Things that are pure, dumb luck to literally everyone else is carefully calculated at a speed faster than light, making it look like luck. Damn.

Yeah.

Forget Slade. Midnighter is my new favorite nemesister.

DO YOU SEE WHAT HE FOUGHT WITH?! WHILE DEATHSTROKE AND BLACK ADAM WERE FIGHTING WITH META POWERS AND A CURSED SWORD, HE FUCKING WRAPPED CHAINS AROUND HIMSELF LIKE A BOSS AND WHIPPED THE SHIT OUT OF THAT MAN.

Please take a moment of silence to relish in this sight.

Dick's innovativeness is a formidable skill when fighting allies.

Dick and Ras are evenly matched in sword fighting.

Wait, wait. I don't need any doubts about Dick's strength in sword fighting so I'm going to include a couple panels here:

Dick fights Azrael to a standstill which is absolutely incredible because Azrael solos. He's gone through many upgrades and skills and is one of the best fighters ever. He's even defeated Bruce.

He also defeated Jason and Tim together in Batman and Robin Eternal.

This is just another point towards the fact that Dick actually won in his fight against Bruce before going into Spyral. They weren't holding back.

Oh yeah. Ra's vs Dick panel, Dick and Ra's aren't going anywhere because Dick is a swordsman equivalent to one of the best in the world. So how do you win a draw? By one upping the opponent. He swings his foot up in midair and completely defeats him. "But that isn't a defeat...Ra's just stopped fighting!" It was complete defeat because Ra's is intelligent and knows when he can't win. Also they have been fighting for a while until they reached the breaking point in the battle. This move is a show of how Dick has that just one inch more that will lead him to be a victor.

Ra's honors Dick so much he tried to give the sword he used to fight with Batman because he thinks Dick is worthy of it. Can anyone receive a higher honor than this from that man?

He'll also use the broken glass of a car window to take down his opponent. If that's not innovation, then what is?

But one last thing since a car door cannot be considered innovative these days.

sticks. He literally took two twigs off the ground to use as weapons against his highly skilled, one of the best assassins, great-grandfather who is fighting with daggers in his hands and all over his body.

But you know the best part?

He draws his opponent to a tie. A tie? Not a win? No it was win after, considering he used his relative's falling body as a launching pad in the middle of the air when they were falling off the bridge to grab onto the bridge with the help of his friend. So it was his win but it's insane how incredible Dick's skills are.

It's really innovative because who thinks of using twigs and winning? Let me also clarify another point. Dick could've used the knives he'd gotten from his talon suit and thoroughly won because when he was brain washed he almost killed Red Condor from how skilled he was but he conscientiously chose to use twigs. In a sword fight. This man.

His improvisation is an asset that many have come to know him for and classify him as dangerous because he can fight with anything, anywhere, and win.

Something I want to end with. Dick only fights people who are stronger than him. I know he's fought mob characters and stuff but his enemies? They are all metas, assassins, skilled fighters, Russian Black Ops, and more. Essentially, people who are the top of the class in their categories and him defeating them equally and fairly is the reason why he has the respect of his enemies. He's just that good.

[drjholtzmann]

this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way

(season of mists spoilers)

------------

It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough. 

He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again. 

“Hob?”

Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.” 

“You were calling for me?”

“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”

Morpheus sends him a withering look. 

“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”

“It was.”

He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. 

“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Great. Fab.”

“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”

“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”

Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.

“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”

“What?”

“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”

Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end. 

“So… it is related?” 

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette. 

“Show me?” 

“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned. 

Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”

“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”

“I see.”

“Why are they here?” 

“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”

“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”

“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”

“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”

Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know. 

“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”

There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.

“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.” 

“They are causing no harm.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”

“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”

“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”

“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”

“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”

Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly. 

“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”

“Precisely.”

“But the boys… aren’t devils?”

“They are not.”

“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”

Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.” 

“You are under no obligations.”

“Oh.” 

“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”

“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.

“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.” 

“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”

“You cannot save them, Hob.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.” 

“Says who?”

“The universe. Death, herself.”

Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”

And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile. 

“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”

“Hob.”

“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”

“I have meetings to attend to.”

“That’s not a no.” 

“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”

“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”

“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this was a request and it sounded really cute. I used to watch watch F1 races as a kid and thought it'd be such a fun job to have. but then I grew up and realized I hate driving lol

➤ when MC is a professional F1 driver | the demon brothers

2.6k words | sfw | fluff & slice of life shenanigans

cw: developing relationships with the demon brothers; some angst and insecurity if you squint.

related: the dateables + mephisto edition

Lucifer is your main obstacle when you decide you want a shot at racing in this realm. You argue it’s only fair if they expect you to give up your passion and livelihood for an entire year without warning. The world of Devildom racing is dangerous and he doesn’t want (or expect) a human like you to understand that. You try to show him videos of some of your races that you have on your old phone, but he’s still skeptical of your abilities. He takes you to the local track so you can prove what you’re capable of. (His brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos and the students from Purgatory Hall show up to watch as well.) By the end of the first lap, most of them are stunned with disbelief or excited for the possibilities of living with such a talented driver. Lucifer grudgingly concedes that he underestimated you. He arranges a personal vehicle for you to use during your stay in the exchange program. He also speaks to Diavolo about your interest in continuing your racing career. The young prince agrees once he’s confident you understand the risks. 

Lucifer is your advocate and advisor at first, but over time he gradually becomes your friend. He admires your determination to make a name for yourself. He attends each race in person and pretends he’s there on official business, but it’s his own way of supporting your efforts. He’s genuinely proud of you for making such a lasting impact in the Devildom in a short amount of time. He treats you to dinner after each race and it becomes a celebratory ritual you both look forward to. He starts to crave your company when the racing season comes to an end, and he scrambles for new reasons to spend time with you. He starts asking you out for dinner—just the two of you—for no apparent reason at all. He can't explain the profound happiness that blooms in his chest when you eagerly accept.

Mammon thinks this is a fantastic opportunity. At first he assumed you were just some cute human that liked cars. But now it turns out that you actually know how to race, too? The novelty of a human racing against in the Devildom’s most competitive league is sure to draw in a bigger crowd than usual. He never bothered with betting on the races before, but your introduction to the racing league shows him the untapped potential; he can't wait to make a fortune off this! Unfortunately for him, you hear through the grapevine that he bets against you before your first race. You're annoyed and drive more aggressively than usual because of it. You already feel like you have to prove yourself, and you’re already under enough pressure without him counting on you to fail. The race finishes and you rank in the top three—it takes the Devildom sporting world by surprise. Mammon lost a fair bit of money betting against you, but he’s not angry. He admits he underestimated you and it feels like you’ve earned his respect. (He learns from his mistakes and doesn’t bet against you again.)

He’s a lot friendlier after that. He's a good engineer and likes working with his hands. When your loaner car acts up, he offers to help you with it even though you both know you can handle it yourself. He keeps you company and watches you work on it in the garage Lucifer had built. Mammon pretends he's "supervising" your work so he still has a reason to hang around. Sometimes you let him do the work for you because he looks so happy when he does. He makes a show of rolling up his sleeves and flexing his muscles before he pops the hood and leans forward to take a look at things. It's ridiculous how attractive he is when he's sweaty and covered with dirt and engine grease. 

He doesn't let anyone else drive his precious car Demonio 666 Lexura except for you. When you finally agree to his invitation to take you out on a date, he hands you the keys so you can drive it for the first time. It’s nicer and a lot faster than the car Lucifer arranged for you to use. You can tell that Mammon puts a lot of pride and care into the upkeep of his vehicle, and you’re flattered he would trust you with it when no one else has that privilege. Mammon gets a little flustered in the passenger seat because watching you drive in your date night outfit turns him on. He’s tempted to slip his hand into your lap and test how good your concentration is.

Levi doesn’t have any interest in driving outside of video games. He’s shocked at how talented you are as a racer because you’re terrible at Devil Kart. He still invites you to play games with him and it surprises him that you would waste your time with him. He's not sure how to act around you sometimes. It should be easier to interact with you the more he gets to know you. Instead, he grows even more shy and anxious and flustered all at once and he doesn't know why.

The other students at RAD start to admire you and you develop a little bit of a fan following. He gets a little jealous that you seem to bask in all the attention, but you admit to him later that a lot of your public persona is just an act. You’re scared to be yourself in the public eye, and you hate the feeling of being judged for who you are. You show him rare glimpses of the real you that no one else sees, and he realizes he likes you. He wants to be your friend, but he wants to support you too. You don't have to pretend to be someone else when you're with him. He's not a fan of sports, but in his eyes, you slowly become as important as one of his beloved idols.

He hears rumors around RAD that some of the students want to start a fan club for you. It irritates him that he didn’t think of that first, but he sets up a fan site that gets a lot of traction. His username is different from the ones he uses on other sites so it’s harder to trace it back to him. He basically runs the largest Devildom site dedicated to you and your career and its his worst-kept secret. Another fan of yours designs cute logos based off your Devildom racing nickname, and it opens the floodgates to a huge line of fan-made merchandise. Levi orders one of everything, and he knows all of his brothers have bought some that merch too. He squirms in his seat when you mention how sweet the fan club president is. You drop subtle hints that you know it’s him, but he’s too nervous to admit it. One day you ask him out to see a new movie he’s interested in, and all he can do is nod and blush furiously when you call it a date. (He doesn't even realize he's wearing one of your fan club t-shirts until after you leave his room with a bounce in your step.)

Satan didn't have much of an interest in cars or racing before you arrived. Once you break into the Devildom racing scene, he takes it upon himself to learn more about it. (Watching awkwardly from the sidelines while Lucifer his brothers fawn over you has nothing to do with his sudden interest.) He picks up the basics of car maintenance easily enough, but his main focus is the politics behind the racing industry and how the teams function. He wants you to succeed and that means finding a manager that's dedicated and organized and has a keen eye for detail. He observes how the other teams operate and quickly identifies the weak spots in their leadership. He's certain that he can do so much better than them and he’s relieved when you agree to give him a chance. 

You spend a lot of evenings working together. You give him detailed breakdowns about your career in the human world and how things operated. He makes careful notes of the things you liked and didn't like, the people on your team that helped you and the ones you butted heads with. He knows some of his brothers are suitable for roles on your team, and he's extremely critical when he begins filling the other vacant positions. He goes to the track when you practice and you appreciate his company. He takes on most of the behind-the-scenes responsibility for you so you can focus on other things, like not crashing and staying alive. He has zero tolerance for demons that badmouth you when he's in earshot, and it takes all his self-control not to tear them to pieces. Don't they realize how hard you work? Sometimes he gets frustrated when he has to control his temper, but you pat his arm and hug him or kiss his cheek for his efforts. You remind him that you appreciate him sticking up for you like no one else does; the anger inside him deflates and is replaced with something even more potent.

Asmo can’t remember the last time he felt so inspired. Here you are, the most precious little human he’s ever laid eyes on, and you’re a professional racer? He's already planning a new fashion line that’ll capitalize on the hype of your budding career—he knows the trends of the Devildom and anticipates your success before anyone else does. Your first race generates so much excitement that he sets up a corporate Devilgram account for you too. The first wave of fans start following you within minutes of your surprising race debut. Asmo goes to the track and takes pictures of you talking to Satan and the others on your team about devil-knows-what. He manages to snap a particularly fetching photo of you leaning against your car. He knows you were just pointing out something in the car’s flimsy paint job, but it makes you look intriguing and formidable and a bit sexy, too. (You roll your eyes when you see the photo on Devilgram later, but his suggestive caption under the photo about the Devildom’s hottest new ride leaves you feeling flustered the rest of the day.)

Things move very quickly once the rest of the Devildom media catches up to Asmo’s insight into your popularity. All the magazines want to interview you, and even Mephistopheles requests an interview on behalf of the RAD newspaper club. The Devilgram account Asmo runs for you skyrockets in popularity with each photo he posts. Satan offers Asmo a role on your team as your official agent and social marketing strategist. He asks Satan for some other responsibilities too: he arranges your sponsorships and endorsements, and he designs your race attire and car wrap. He’s not sure anyone else in the Devildom can capture your talent or charming good looks the way he can.

You and Asmo have some very long, heated discussions about managing your celebrity status and your personal boundaries. You maintain veto power over any interviews or photo-ops you’re uncomfortable with. You also get final approval on any licensed fashion or merchandise. (The little fan club of yours has superior merch anyway and everyone knows it.) Asmo enjoys the challenge of designing your race suit too, and he’s so proud when he shows it to you. It incorporates comfort, style and function in a way that's flattering without being provocative. There are little symbols embroidered along the sleeve cuffs and he explains what they are when your brow furrows in confusion. “Oh! The thread is imbued with protective magic. The sigils will help protect you in case you get into an accident.” He mistakes the shocked look on your face for disappointment and backtracks quickly. “I promise, it’s not cheating! Demons are more durable so most of them don’t bother using these, but I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt—“ He stumbles a little when you wrap your arms around him and mumble thank-yous into his chest. He kisses the top of your head and hugs you back just as tightly while he murmurs about how special you are.

Both of the twins end up working in the pit as part of your crew.

Beel is an obvious candidate for that physically demanding job because of his speed and strength. He didn’t know much about racing before you came to the Devildom. Your passion and his brothers’ involvement is contagious and he can’t resist getting involved too. He learns about the mechanics of caring for cars and how important the pit stop crew is to your success. He bonds with his family because they're all supporting you in their own ways. Working with his hands helps distract him from his hunger and becomes an unexpected perk of the job. You’re considerate and still make sure he has access to snacks throughout the race if he wants them, though. He can’t be there for all of your races because of scheduling conflicts with his other club obligations, but that’s when he realizes how much he likes spending time with you. He’s flattered that you find time in your busy schedule to go to his games to cheer him on too. You agree to go with him for spontaneous lunch dates when you both have time off. He takes you to new restaurants and watching your reactions to the different types of food the Devildom offers. He worries that you don't eat enough when you're so busy, and he's much happier knowing that you're well-fed.

Belphie works in the pit but his responsibilities are a bit more abstract. He volunteers for that role because his twin is there. All he needs to do is help keep Beel’s hunger-related distractions to a minimum and stay out of the way while the other demons do their jobs. He has a nice little corner where he can watch the race if he wants, but he spends most of the time sleeping. He wakes up when he senses your car is pulling up. Each time you drive away, you wave in his direction like you know he wakes up just to see you for a few brief moments.

He doesn’t like it when your fans recognize you on the street. They ask you for autographs or selfies and it’s annoying. He’s proud of you, but he hates having to compete for your attention. He makes snarky comments about your fan club but he still buys your merch—the t-shirts are soft and nice for sleeping in. He drags you to the bed in the attic for naps because he senses how exhausted you are. He makes sure that you’re not sacrificing relaxation or sleep for the sake of your career. Sometimes you dream, but it's not the nightmares that bother you. You dream about returning to the human world and living a normal life without obligations to your fans and your manager and your sponsorships. You crave a life that's completely your own again. Those dreams disturb you the most because sometimes you wish you could go back to being that person before you started on this path. Belphie listens quietly when you share your feelings in a moment of sleepy vulnerability. He doesn't judge you or laugh at you. He understands why you’d want to give up a lucrative career when it leaves you feeling weary from self-doubt and regret. Maybe one day, sooner rather than later, he can help convince you that it's okay to retire and pursue a different dream instead.

[mangokabuto]

Some dance + real-world-equivalent-ethnicity headcannons :)

Some more little bits i be thinking abt for those who want more dance content: (under the cut)

Usopp with his salsa fundamentals and luffy with his vague memories of samba end up, at some point, coming up with their own much more chaotic combo of the two. They r spinning around so fast its insane. Luffy is about to launch them into the sun. They're having a great time.

Sanji being absolutely miffed when the only other ppl on the crew who know how to couple's dance with him are Usopp and Luffy. He gets over it ofc, being able to actually dance with another person quickly overwhelms the "I wanted to tango with a beautiful lady" grief

Sanji being able to help Usopp re-learn salsa and them bonding over their moms abt it 🥲Luffy is a lost cause tho he's not learning shit /j

BaroqueWorks Robin and Bon Clay bonding over ballet Q_Q

Brook inventing the most INSANE new dips/twirls/transitions because he no longer has muscles or skin or whatever in the way

Also I firmly believe Usopp listens & dances to anything made by Spice, Mr. Killa, and Yung Bredda, but he refuses to let the crew know this. He's not embarrassed or anything he's just fairly sure Sanji would have a heart attack and die if he heard the lyrics

Sanji listens & dances to Rodrigo y Gabriela he's in love with their story

Zoro is one of those freaks who has no desire to listen to music at all but he won't turn it off if it's on, yk?

As made obvious above I think Usopp and Sanji are the 1st and 2nd most versatile dancers, but neither of them dance more Often than Franky

If i had to rank them based on how often/readily they will dance its....in the order I placed the pictures, with chopper between brook and nami. Luffy is only so low cause he'd usually rather be eating, and brook cause he'd rather be playing, and zoro cause he'd rather be drinking/napping

Robin will readily dance with you if you ask her but she's not going to initiate

If you love dance like i do and want to see some specific choreographers/dances i had in mind while drawing these, that will be the rest of this bullet list!

Sanji is doing Derek Hough's little solo bit from his pasodoble choreo on dancing with the stars. look it up it is so peak

Dancing with the star (chopper <3)

In my head Usopp is perfectly capable of dancing any choreography by Latrice Kabamba (west african steps), Tricia Miranda (dancehall), or Yeifren Mata (mostly male solo salsa)

For Franky I think some old way choreos by Nastya Batrachenko or Dashaun Wesley (he mostly does fem now but he has good old way stuff) r good

[sothisart]

1972

Remus couldn't sleep. His injuries from the night before still hurt, apparently Madame Pince's potion started to wear off. He was used to it though. He'd had it worse most of his life. Hogwarts hospital wing actually gave him a big relief with all the treatment he was getting every full moon after starting school.

"Remus..."

A quiet voice interrupted Remus' thoughts.

"Are you sleeping? Can I hop in for a moment?"

Sirius's big eyes were looking at him with this inexplicable expression, like a little puppy asking for permission to sleep in his bed.

"Sure...," he answered though he was not sure how that would work, he had never had anyone visiting his bed at night. Well, except for being cuddled by his mum on nights like this.

Sirius climbed up, settled himself next to him and whispered.

"Does it still hurt..."

"Yeah, but it's better than it has usually been," Remus whispered back.

Sirius was silent for a moment. Then he lifted his gaze and looked straight into Remus's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could help. I...."

Remus didn't know what to say to that, Sirius had discovered his secret just a couple of weeks before, and Remus still wasn't used to talking about it so openly.

"I just want to say... you're my best friend and you'll never be alone with it." Sirius said, his eyes shining in the darkness, his arm slipping around Remus's back to held him close.

#wolfstar #wolfstarfanart #wolfstar 

1975 

Remus was lying on his back, trying not to think about the events of previous several days. He still couldn’t suppress the haunting memory of Sirius’s cursed body after he’d escaped the Black mansion for, hopefully, the last time. Remus was trying to relax his muscles and, maybe, fall asleep like he hoped Sirius managed to do. Sirius was now safe, only that mattered.

“Moony… can I…” he heard soft whispering.

“Pads, are you ok? You should be resting…”

“I know, I will. Just I…” Sirius said but didn’t finish.

Remus shifted to the side of the bed, grabbing his hand and pulling him in. He knew sending Sirius back would only make him feel worse, and he wanted Sirius to feel better after what he’d been through.

Maybe Sirius couldn’t sleep either.

Maybe he’d had a bad dream.

Maybe he was scared even though nothing bad could happen. At least for now.

“You’re safe here, Sirius,” Remus whispered before you could stop himself. He didn’t know if that’s something you say to your friend, even the best one, but Sirius only shifted closer and wrapped his arms around Remus’s back to held him tight, and whispered:

“I know.”

1976 

Remus sometimes still needed to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He’d shared the bed with Sirius so many times over the years. It wasn’t even slightly suspicious to any of their friends who were used to them frequently waking up together in one four poster. Platonically of course. Only the way Sirius was pressing his mouth to Remus’s neck was not a platonic as they were thinking.

(I’m not sure I’ll write sth for other years, they are quite clear from the pictures anyway 😅, I had like 5 examples of more pictures to this story, but somebody stop me cause it would never end)

Also, huge admiration again to MsAlexWP and her @languagelessonswolfstar - I loved the idea of them sleeping together from the very first year at Hogwarts, the idea original to Language Lessons! It inspired me to draw this series.