#and i ship them so hard dammit

[duckuwu]

me, whilst reading the unbroken & the faithless: oh, touraine, you idiot (fondly).

[thru-ur-alarms]

WAKE UP NEW POLENDINA LORE DROPPED

[blazingflareon]

what if u wanted to buy dragon age comics but god said

[queen-scribbles]

AS IT SHOULD BE

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; alcohol use/drunkenness [reader + zoro]; dubcon [due to alcohol]; brief vaginal fingering; brief mention of masturbation [zoro]; a little angsty wc: 2.2k *this was originally a longer fic I couldn't quite make work the way i wanted, so i reworked it and made it bite-sized instead of just never releasing it. enjoy :p

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair, Zoro thought as he carried you into your quarters and plopped you on the end of the bed, the mattress bouncing underneath you as you hiccupped and giggled, slurring something close to “thank you” as he sat down in the chair across from you. You couldn’t hold your liquor, and somehow—at least according to Nami—Zoro was put in charge of hauling your drunken ass out of bars and taverns, or off the deck of the Sunny, or away from dwindling campfires and making sure you were safely tucked into bed.

It was not, however, Nami’s idea that he should try to keep watch over you the rest of the night after he’d toss you over his shoulder and carry you off like a sack of rice, but he held his alcohol far better than you, and the last thing the crew needed was for you to wander off and get yourself into trouble. It certainly had nothing to do how pretty you always looked before you inevitably passed out, smiling wide and laughing loudly, clinging to him the whole night like a barnacle. Maybe it was true that you were attracted to him all the time, or maybe he only seemed like the best option when you’d had a couple of beers or a few shots in you to light a fire in your belly; Zoro had no way of knowing, and it made a deep and unfamiliar ache settle in his bones.

And tonight, it definitely wasn’t fair when you complained about how hot it was in the room and inelegantly wriggled out of your shirt, down to just your tank top, as you sat on the edge of the bed and swayed back and forth, your eyes blinking just slightly out of sync with one another.

“Keep your clothes on, dammit.” Zoro felt a deep heat rising in his cheeks as he saw the way your nipples pebbled underneath the thin cotton top.

“Why? I gotta get ready for bed, ‘m not gonna sleep in my clothes.” You clumsily unzipped your shorts and lifted your ass off the bed enough to slide out of them, tugging them down your hips, letting them pool around your ankles for a few moments before finally kicking them to the side. You leaned back and absentmindedly spread your legs wide, and Zoro’s eyes drifted downwards. The thin strip of cotton between your legs barely covered anything, pubic hair peeking out of the sides, just how he’d imagined it might.

“Close your legs, dammit! I don’t need to see all that!” he sputtered, turning his head to avoid even another glance between your plush thighs. Zoro longed for the nights when you were already passed out by the time he hauled you back to the ship, when there was no chance of you hanging all over him, or telling him how handsome he was, or lamenting how lonely you felt—or stripping down to next-to-nothing, just the way he saw you in his mind’s eye when he was alone.

“My shoes.”

“What about them?”

“My shoes.” You huffed a sigh. “Take ‘m off for me, I can’t do it.”

“Take ‘em off yourself,” he groused, shifting in his seat, ignoring the tingling at the base of his spine.

You pouted in response and uttered something that may have been words or may have been a whine; Zoro wasn’t certain what it was, but all he knew he wanted you to stop.

“Fine! Just—just cut it out, okay? I’ll do it.” He stood, careful to adjust the growing hardness in his trousers, though he doubted you were coherent enough to notice it anyway. He knelt down on the floor between your spread legs, thick fingers carefully unlacing one boot, then the other, yanking them off and tossing them behind him.

“Do you think I’m pretty, Zoro?”

Zoro glanced up from the floor and felt his heart thrum a little faster. Your eyebrows were furrowed, half-lidded eyes focused intensely on his face, as though you were trying to read the answer in his features. It was a stupid question, he thought—of course you were pretty. To him, you were perfect, even when you were a whiny, drunken mess, too uncoordinated to untie your own shoes. “Yeah, I think you’re pretty. I think you’re very pretty.”

You leaned forward and urgently pressed your lips to his. He accepted it, invited it, let you take what you needed from him, and accepted what you gave him in return. Zoro ran his tongue along the contours of your jaw, kissed down your neck, teeth dragging against your skin. Your little moans were so sweet, so perfect, better than he’d ever imagined.

As he tasted the salt of your skin, felt your pulse under his tongue, he pulled away reluctantly, pressing his forehead to yours. It was wrong, it was wrong, it was unfair and it was wrong. Would you even remember this kiss in the morning? “We—we should stop.”

“No,” you whispered, running your hands through his hair, fingers grasping at mossy green tufts. “Not if you want it, too.”

“Fuck, of course I do.”

“Zoro, please. I need you.” You dragged his hand over the cool skin of your thigh and placed it over your barely-clothed cunt. “Touch me…please?”

He felt the damp heat start to warm his palm, your body malleable and soft, ready to yield to him in whatever way he wanted. He pulled the gusset of your panties to the side and groaned, seeing the slick coating your swollen pussy lips, the way it clung to your pubic hair and glistened in the low light of the room. Oh, and you asked so nicely, the sweetness of your voice sending a tingling sensation down his spine—there was no way he could possibly say no to you.

He ran his finger along your slit, feeling your juices coat his fingertips, felt a shiver run through him at the sensation. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“All for you,” you purred, breath still smelling unmistakably of alcohol, a fact Zoro pushed out of his mind for the moment.

“Yeah?” His cock throbbed at the thought, that this—all of this—was for him. Was it always? Did you grow warm at the sight of him, shirtless and panting as he trained in the afternoon sun? Did you sneak off to your bed to touch yourself, wishing it was his fingers, his tongue, his cock making you cum? Did you drink yourself into a stupor just to get yourself alone with him, and try to find the courage to tell him all the ways you wanted him to take you?

Zoro slid two of his thick fingers inside you and let out a hiss through his teeth at the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him. You moaned, then suddenly pitched forward into him, your forehead knocking against his, as you gripped his shoulders and pushed yourself back up. He glanced up at you as you groaned, and couldn’t help but notice the glazed-over look in your eyes, the way you seemed to look through him rather than at him.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you were so damned drunk and that he was so damned weak for you.

He slowly withdrew his fingers from inside of you, moving your panties back to cover you, and set his hand on your thigh. “I need to stop. We need to stop.”

“But Zoro—” Your chest heaved and your lip began to tremble, tears beading up at your lashline. “You don’t want me?”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry.” He placed a wide hand on each side of your face, kissed you lightly on your wobbling lips. “Of course I want you. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Then fuck me? Please?”

“Oh, I want to,” Zoro murmured against your lips. The ache in your voice was enough to make him reconsider, to choke down the feeling of impropriety and give in to his basest desires. “I really, really want to. Just… not like this.”

“You sure?”

“No, I’m not. But I can’t.”

You placed a hand on his forearm, stroked his tanned skin with your thumb. Why did you have to look so forlorn as you mumbled little apologies? He wanted nothing more than to comfort you, to hold you and tell you it wasn’t your fault, that it was only bad timing—but if he touched you again, he felt like he would burn from the inside out.

“Look, why don’t you get some sleep?” he said as he stood, walking back over to the chair across the room and plunking down, his body feeling heavy with regret. “If you’re still feeling this way tomorrow, come find me and we can pick up where we left off.”

“Promise?” you asked, eyes still glimmering with tears.

“Promise.” He forced a smile, wondering how much if this you’d even recall and how much of it would vanish with the morning sun, dissipating like alcohol vapors.

Zoro sat back and watched as you crawled up under the covers, seeming reassured enough by his words; he set his chin in his hand and stayed while you dozed, listened to your little hiccups and snores as you thrashed around and tangled yourself in your sheets before finally settling down into a quiet sleep. He leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a sigh as he stared at the ceiling, waiting for Nami and Robin to come back to the ship so he could be relieved of his duties.

Doing the honorable thing sure felt like shit sometimes.

**********

Zoro leaned on the railing of the Sunny, watching the sun start to appear over the horizon, still trying to chase thoughts of you from his mind. He slept for a few fitful hours in the crow’s nest after he left your cabin, images of his fingers coated in your slick still flashing in his mind, the sound of your pretty little moans and desperate pleas replaying over and over again like a cruel, teasing record. It wasn’t fair, he had told himself as he’d awoken in a cold sweat and guiltily fisted his aching cock to the thought of you, moaning your name under his breath as he spilled himself into his palm—but then again, things so rarely were.

“Morning.”

Zoro startled at the sound of your voice, and he turned to see you shuffling towards him, looking disheveled and a little defeated. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over,” you muttered with a sheepish grin, kicking at the ground as you made your way over.

He clucked his tongue and forced a chuckle. “You gotta stop trying to keep up with everyone.”

“Yeah, well. It’s fun though.”

“Not when I have to haul your ass back here every time.”

“Am I really that much trouble, Zoro?” You swallowed thickly as you approached him, drawing a slow, shivering breath and hesitating before you set your hand on his forearm. “It, ah—it didn’t seem like you minded too much last night.”

He felt the blood drain from his limbs, as a strangled noise crawled its way up his throat. You weren’t supposed to remember, you were supposed to wake up and forget, as you always did, that you’d even said so much as an innuendo to him, let alone that you—that he—

“I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t—”

“No, no, no, you don’t need to apologize,” you hastily uttered. “I know I instigated it. I just—”

“Doesn’t matter who started it,” he said, quickly cutting you off. He wasn’t sure if next would come more apologies, or a confession, or something else altogether, but he was certain that whatever it may have been, it was probably better left unsaid. Your hand didn’t leave his forearm, and he didn’t have a mind to move it; your palm was warm against him, welcomed as the cool morning breeze made its way over the deck.

“Look,” you finally said after a few moments, “I don’t remember everything from last night, but I’m pretty sure you told me to come find you and maybe we could pick back up where we left off…?”

A grin crept up the corners of Zoro’s mouth; there was no point in trying to deny it. “Huh. I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you nodded, cocking your head and gazing up at him.

He slid a large hand to the back of your neck, looking down at you for a moment; you still seemed just as wanting and needy as you did last night, only now with a clear mind and a level of forwardness he never expected from you sober. Zoro supposed things were fair after all, a final fleeting thought as he pressed his lips to yours and reclaimed that tempting sweetness he’d only been able to sample.

[soft-mafia]

Take Me With You [Buggy x Reader]

warnings: fem reader, oc insert, reader is around the same age as the straw hats, mentioned age gap, Buggy being kind of a perv, short drabble

a/n: Reader running off with Buggy is starting to live in my mind rent free. Also urrrgggg Buggy is so Salvatore Ultraviolence Born To Die coded

part 2

“Sorry kiddos, I would love to stay and make things right, but it’s time to exit stage left.” Buggy said as soon as he got his body back, and ran off away from all of the conflict.. what was he gonna do now dammit? I mean it wouldn’t be long before his crew found him, it shouldn’t be that long right? He was sure they weren’t all a bunch of idiots—

“Buggy! Wait!!” He heard a voice call out from behind him, he paused and turned around, seeing Y/n there. He smiled sweetly at her, “Oh, hey hot stuff.” He grinned at her, “Listen.. it’s not you, it’s me, I really gotta-”

“-Take me with you.” Y/n said, slowly stepping closer to Buggy, looking at him with sadness in her eyes— oh shit. Maybe Buggy went a bit overboard with the sweet talk with this girl.. she was the only one that was gentle with his head, he wanted to stay on her good side but he never imagined that she would actually FALL for him. Why? Buggy took a few seconds to process what she said, “Huh?” He croaked out.

“Please take me with you!!” She said again.

Buggy’s mouth was slightly agape, he then sighed and stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her shoulders before eying her up, “Listen, baby, as much as I appreciate you for taking care of my head.. I think I’m a bit too old for you.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, then looked down at the ground, “I.. I don’t care.” She whispered. Buggy’s jaw clenched, he just couldn’t.. leave her. He had to admit she was cute, and when she had held his head close to her tits it felt like heaven.. he looked up and sighed heavily, “C’mon baby.. don’t-..” he sighed again, “Stop acting like that, stop it.” She was acting so sad.. the thought of how sad and lonely Y/n would be if he left her here was starting to creep into his mind, and it was making him feel like an asshole.

“What about your friends huh?” Buggy tried to reason with her, “And.. trust me you wouldn’t like it on my crew, you’re way too hot for that.” He moved his hands down to her arms.

“I only knew them for like.. a few days, I can’t really call them my friends.” Y/n mumbled, looking up at Buggy through her eyelashes.

Puppy dog eyes?! C’mon, she’s fucking killing me! Buggy sighed, “Well you don’t even know me at all!” He growled.

“Then let me get to know you! Please! Please take me with you..! I know I’d feel safer around you!” Y/n stepped closer to him, Buggy could see his ship in the horizon, thank god.

Why him of all people?! Safe?! He literally tried to kill the people she was with, AND her. He was confused, but he didn’t really have much time to think this through.

Buggy put his hands on Y/n’s waist and looked down at her, should he really do this? He exhaled, “Ok. Fine.” He grabbed her forearm and started heading for the shore, dragging her along with him, “It took those fuckers way too long to find me.” He grumbled under his breath.

Y/n felt her heart fluttering, he’s actually taking me with him!! She couldn’t believe this was happening.. the way he was holding her, the way he looked at her, she was swooning so hard..

She caught up with him, walking by his side.

[aezuria]

uptown girl!

"she's been living in her uptown world, i bet she's never had a backstreet guy" —billy joel

content: mortal au!leo valdez x reader

╰┈▸ info: stuck-up reader (she gets character development later), cursing, reader is ~18, early 2000s core

notes: stella finally posted a fic !? (pls tell me if u enjoy i need validation 😔)

this has got to be the worst way to start summer ever. first, your morning was ruined by a bird shitting all over your car window—not a mess you had the time nor the patience to clean. then, on your way to pick up your friends for some much needed girl time, your car had the fun idea of breaking down. great. it left you on the side of the road, dialing up your father. which, when you think about it, really wasn't your fault! your precious ride just spontaneously combusted or something. nothing to do with the fact that you've crashed the front about seven times since january. after all, you'd gotten them fixed! it should be the mechanic's fault. or maybe, this car was cursed!

but of course, your dad just had to disagree. apparently it was his "last straw."

you winced away from the phone's speaker as his voice burst through. "you have been so ungrateful lately! when you asked for that car, i bought it for you! i looked over the fact that you don't even have your license yet! all i asked was for you to take care of your things!" he cried. from the tone of his voice, you could imagine the creases dug into his forehead. okay, now you felt bad. just a little.

before you could apologize, he finished with, "you just wait until i get there, young lady."

leave it to him to take away your guiltiness.

"dad!" you watched in horror as the truck towed your sleek red baby to god knows where. you turned your stricken expression on him, hoping to elicit at least a little bit of sympathy. but it seemed like his mind was made up on this one. dammit.

he crossed his arms sternly, putting his foot down. "let's go. we'll talk more in the house."

"-so you want to ship me away to some place crawling with bugs and creeps for the rest of the summer!?" you screeched along with the chair as its legs slid across the kitchen's tile floor.

your dad raised his hand in a placating gesture. "now, now, just until your car is fixed. it might not even be a whole month." he shrugged. yeah, real comforting. "and the city's a nice place. we lived there when you were young, remember?"

"no, i don't remember." you snapped. you did remember, but that brought on memories you'd rather not have right now.

he sucked in a breath. "alright then. it won't be so bad. we still have that apartment, and i got it cleaned up recently. it'll teach you some responsibility and independence." he nodded, satisfied with his decision.

you opened your mouth to snark at him again, but he continued, "and you won't be completely alone. there's a nice young man who will be fixing up your car, just down the street from the apartment building. i asked him to show you around when he has the time. and you'll have your phone, so make sure to call me, okay?" his strict behavior gave way to the soft spot you knew he had for you.

"...okay," you agreed reluctantly. once he really made up his mind about something, there was no changing it, so there was no use in arguing.

he smiled, patting your shoulder gently. "great. now pack your bags."

"be sure to buy groceries, and do the laundry, and clean every so often-" your father rambled on and on. if he was this worried, why wouldn't he just not go through with it? and why was he acting like you couldn't do basic chores!? it's not like you ever did them, but they couldn't be too hard, right?

"i get it dad." you rolled your eyes, staring out the car window. the buildings were all drab, painted in browns and grays, without a single bright color in sight, save for the red stop signs.

he pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the building. your insides recoiled. you swore it didn't look this... dilapidated all those years ago. or maybe you just had better taste now.

"we're here! looks like it's got a lot of.. character." he tried to cheer you up, but even you could tell he didn't think to check how it looked. it would've hurt too much to do so.

your lip scrunched in distaste. "i can't spend a single second in there."

"don't worry, it'll be over before you know it." with one last reassuring smile, he turned and left.

the apartment itself wasn't too bad, it was all cleaned up, just as your father had said. it smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, pillows fluffed and spritzed. your room was cold despite the warmth that came with summer. the pristine sheets were unfamiliar against your skin, as if you were tucked into a hotel bed. the sound of tire rolling against pavement never ceased, people had places to go, places to be even in the dead of night. a draft through your window made you shiver. you should close that in the morning. you curled in on yourself like you did when you were little, only this time there was only the unfeeling fabric to hold you, instead of the warm, long forgotten embrace no one could quite replicate.

you cringed at the shoddy place your phone had led you to, and looked up at the peeling paint sign that read: valdez mechanics. how charming. you even debated touching the rusty doorknob, but it swung open before you could turn it. which would be nice, if it didn't almost smack you in the face.

"watch it!" you hissed, side-stepping in time to see a boy your age walking through. his hair was a mess, and there were grease stains all over his face and clothes. his fingers were tap, tap, tapping away at his leg, to the rhythm of the song blaring inside. you think he'd be cute if he wasn't so dirty.

“sorry ‘bout that!” he laughed sheepishly. he stared at you for a moment too long before asking, “you here for the thunderbird?”

“yes,” you said shortly.

he chose to ignore your clipped tone, flashing you a smile. “come on in then, yeah?”

you followed him into the tiny shop, already wanting to leave. the place smelled of oil, and you could barely find a clean place to sit on. there were tools thrown everywhere, the floor sticky with dried up grease.

“i’m leo, by the way.” his voice snapped you out of your judging thoughts as he led you to the back. you finally saw your car, propped up with the hood open.

“y/n.” you barely glanced at him as you rushed over, examining the damage. “so? what’s wrong with her?”

he gestured with the wrench in his hand—when’d he get that?—and pointed to the engine. “well that’s all busted up, so i’m gonna have to build a new one for ya. i’ll do you an oil change too and-“

“yeah um, how long will it take?” you interrupted, giving him a smile you did not want to have on.

“i’d say three to five weeks? depends if i have any other stuff that comes in so…”

three to five weeks of your summer wasted away here? when you’re supposed to be having the best time of your life before college!?

“are you serious? can you get it done sooner? i can pay you some more-“ you reached into your purse.

“whoa!” he caught your wrist. his hands were clean now, must’ve wiped them on a rag. “money won’t make me work faster, honey.” he let go and shrugged. “sorry.”

honey? “well then what will? cause i need to leave as soon as-“

“some help, maybe?”

you blinked at him, utterly flabbergasted. “you want me to help you? the person who’s paying for all this?”

“technically, your father’s the one paying,” leo pointed out. “and y’know. you don’t have to help, of course. it just might make it go a bit quicker…” he trailed off, dimples poking through as he tried to hide a cheeky smile.

you huffed. “what do i have to do?”

”i am not sticking my hands in those.” you defied, shaking your head firmly.

leo scoffed, flapping the gloves around. “come on! this is the cleanest pair i have!”

"put this here?" you asked, shoving a part that you forgot the name of into an empty space.

"hm?" leo looked up from his fiddling, jaw dropping in horror. "no no no!"

"oh i know how to do this!" you exclaimed as he gave you a screwdriver. "my dad always said 'lefty loosey, righty tighty.'"

the boy nodded. "yeah! try it out." he pointed to a loose screw.

you successfully tightened it (to the right), giving him a proud smirk. "see?"

"yup." leo grinned at your enthusiasm, even though it was the most basic thing ever. "try and tighten the rest. i'll be right back."

a loud clatter made leo jump from across the repair shop. he rushed over to you, finding the parts that were supposed to be screwed together in complete disarray. "uh, maybe you shouldn't help..."

"really?" you deadpanned. "i hadn't noticed."

"sorry." he laughed. "scooch."

you pursed your lips. no one told you to "scooch" before. but you moved over anyway.

"wanna keep me company?" leo slid his gloves on and began putting the contraption back together.

no, you thought. but you didn't have anything better to do other than wander the city like a clueless idiot. and you hated looking like an idiot. "fine."

the shop was quiet, save for the occasional clanging as leo worked on the engine. his rambling was cut short as he focused on his work, something you didn't know he could do.

"nice car you got here. i've always wanted to drive one of these." he patted its side appreciatively. "where'd you buy this?"

scratch that. maybe he could only shut up in two minute increments.

"don't know. my dad bought it for me." you looked around, not even bothering to hide your boredom.

"right." leo laughed. you found he did that a lot. "must be nice."

your eyebrows knitted in confusion. "i guess?" what did he mean by that?

"i hate it here. it's so boring!" you complained over the phone. cooking dinner had been an absolute mess. “and that leo guy is so weird.”

"give him a chance, will you? he could show you around town, maybe teach you some manners…” you father muttered the last bit.

"what?"

"nothing! all i'm saying is give that boy a chance. who knows, he could be a great friend."

“‘great friend’ my… foot.”

[dean-winchesters-clit]

Another theory post about OFMD S2 because it's all I think about anymore

I had a theory forming about the pearl necklace Ed is wearing that I wanted to share with y'all. I was originally speculating about where Ed got the necklace, thinking that maybe he stole it off one of the wedding guests or even the bride because you can see a lot of the women wearing pearl jewelry in these shots.

But the only pearl necklace we see is much larger than the ones Ed is wearing, and I did some digging and found out that pearl necklaces mostly went out of style in Europe due to a war and the church getting all uppity about people being excessive, so it would be unlikely that any of the other women would be wearing pearl necklaces, especially when the earrings and hairpins made with pearls were usually larger and more uniform than the ones we see on Ed's necklace.

So, where did the necklace come from? I think it makes perfect sense that Stede gave it to Ed because of course he did, but when? It's hard to see Ed's neck in any of the shots of him raiding the wedding ship or in the captain's cabin aboard the Revenge, but I think it's safe to say that he doesn't have it at that point in time.

The first time we see it clearly in the trailer is when he's in the forest, confronting the mysterious figure (who I have a theory about, but that's for another time).

So, Ed gets the pearl necklace some time between raiding a bunch of ships as Blackbeard and getting stranded on an island. What could possibly happen in the interim that could cause him to acquire a pearl necklace from Stede?

Well, we all know Mysterious Merchant Susan is definitely the Chinese Pirate Queen Shi Yang/Zheng Yi Sao/Ching Shih or some approximation of her (since the real Zheng Yi Sao was born in 1775). We also know that she's masquerading as a merchant for some reason. What if the scene of Stede and Oluwande at the market happens before Stede sends his message in a bottle to Ed?

What if, when talking about Blackbeard and Ed, Susan convinces Stede to buy a string of these?

Chinese freshwater pearls. They're smaller and less uniform than the pearls we associate with classic European pearl jewelry. And they match up in style and size pretty well to the pearls on Ed's necklace.

What if Stede buys these pearls from Susan and places them in the bottle along with his message to Ed? Then, when Ed gets stranded on the island, he finds the bottle on the beach and the pearls inside. That's why he goes from no pearls on the Revenge to pearl necklace on the deserted island.

Just some food for thought!

Edit

So, @naranjapetrificada pointed something out that kinda sinks this theory, but I do really like where this new info leads us.

Ed is wearing the pearl necklace before being stranded on the island. You can see it in the "fuck you, Stede Bonnet" frame, but it's easy to miss.

There she is, when Ed is very clearly on the deck of the Revenge.

So, this does burn my theory to the ground, but that's okay!! That's the fun of theory crafting! Someone noticed something I didn't and flipped the whole script!

I love the implications that the necklace is something Ed chooses for himself, rather than something he is gifted. He still likes fine things and wants to feel pretty and finds something that makes him feel that way. Babygirl is having a rough time and deserves some happiness, dammit!!

[crying-fantasies]

Love fantasy

Masterlist

It all started as a normal cycle, he swears on his spark that it was an innocent and normal cycle.

"I interfaced with one of the humans".

Until it wasn't.

No bot can verify the fact but all are equally flabbergasted at the statement, humans are still a novelty aboard, it has been only a few earth years since they arrived to the starship and while friendships and primitive market of products are normal to see nowadays it still doesn't stop one or two glass cubes from shattering against the floor of Swerve's or the high grade that has gone down the wrong pipe by the mere words formed by Fizzle's vox.

No bot asked, no one even knew, no one really noticed him gone from the ship or when he came back but now they all have their attention at him even when he simply said it to the bot next to him, but gossiping, no matter species, is a big deal among sentient beings.

"You're lying"

"No!", almost sensing the others receptor audials over him he can only try to cover his EMF as close to his frame as possible, spoiler coiled near to his armor in a display of nervousness, "it was- it was out of this world, okay? And- and then she was-"

"It was a human femme?!"

Again, some were at their seats end, some again chocking on their drinks, others feeling their fans activate, everybot has seen for themselves how soft humans are, and even heard from the same humans that some are most soft than others.

Human femmes- er, woman and alike, were supposed to be the peak of softness, even human primitive communication devices (porn and magazines) said so!

"Primus dammit- do you want everybot to hear about it?", oh yes, please say more was something resonating among the processors of the most curious in the theme and the most deviant of them that had also thought of some organic colleagues in such a way, of course, Fizzle didn't had to know, and in some way it was his fault to talk about such a thing like a sparkling sharing secrets in a public area when the Lost Light was so big.

"Okay, okay, go on, what did she do?", there was silence, one that preceded the proton storm while Fizzle's spoiler raised back again in excitement to remember the exchange.

"...she played with my wires and with my spark"

If the two bots didn't know they were being eavesdropped before now they knew after a few bots cracked their glasses full of energon at the mere mention of the interface related activity, making they almost scape even when some bots wanted to keep hearing and asked them to come back, because it was the discovery of the century, well, almost, but it was still of great interest nonetheless for most of them!

"Wow, that was crazy, huh, Roddy?", Drift tries to ignore the other bots still remaining in the bar and their obnoxiously loud fans, hardly covering the growing charge on their EMF and now heated frames trying to seem as undisturbed as possible.

Even Rodimus, who stops as hard as he can his cooling fans, servos being negated of the littlest possibility to even shake at how hard his spark is pulsing, "Uhum".

First of the questions running around his processor is who was it? Fizzle doesn't even have any game going on or perceived by his optics to be able to drag along another mech on his habsuit, let alone a human that knows nothing about interfacing, which get to the next question running wild in circles around his processor: can a human do sparkplay? The idea is impossible but it doesn't stop his imagination where, in fact, it seems more than possible with those little hands and fingers running wild on a bot's spark chamber, he remembers the humans being taught cybetronian medic techniques, how they were so focused in healing illness and it isn't so hard to change the purposes of the delicate and sometimes rough way those little hands made their way around a spark and all the sensitive wiring around.

He ask to himself if the human Fizzle was talking about were to be, by any chance, you.

And he negates it, scratches it, deletes as far as he can any trace of the mere idea of it because it will break his spark in million pieces would be improper in everyway.

It is also improper to remember it when he is next to you while you read a datapad about once living creatures of Cybertron, little finger moving the page once in a while in your hunger for more information that gets his optics focused on the way your eyes move along the light and the glyphs on the screen.

Will your curiosity also extent to other possibilities? He has seen you go "woah" and "ahh" over simple things like the subtle communication between frames with wings and spoilers or the fair quantity of differences of one frame to the other, the image of your face looking with interest whatever you're reading and how you take notes on your personal datapad, little fingers moving along and pressing different places in the sensible screen while showing your obvious interest, your possible awe over his bared spark in front of you.

It's almost too easy, he only needs to change a few things, his open spark chamber is now the source of light reflecting on your eyes, a perfect miniature mirror of your actions as your fingers touch the sensible glass cover of his spark, he can almost feel the electricity driving away to your body to his waiting spark that welcomes it with a tremor as hard as lightning that spreads to his whole frame in electric pleasure, wires tensing at the movement around and all the pressure, trying to make give accomodations to every little electric pulses your body can send to his most sensible component.

"Roddy"

It's way too real, way too hard, and it gets worse when your fingers get replaced with your soft looking lips and tongue, lapping above the connections before sliding to his tensed wires, making a wet trail to his spark while he debates internally in his own fantasy, he is supposed to concentrate, to not come undone or look because he is sure it would be JUST. SO. HOT.

"Rods"

It doesn't even end there, he can hear your voice along it, processor and cooling fans working overtime while he can only focus on the possibility, on the maybe that lingers above, it only takes so little to have you kiss with tongue his spark and he can't take it-

"Rodimus!" Oh, now, that's his designation, the fantasy is shattered in pieces and he soon realizes one of his digits is above his spark chamber, you are looking at him, maybe confused, obviously worried, it's enough to make him let go of the digit between his dentae and feeling his spike depressurize- "why are you so hot?", nevermind.

"... I'm hot?...", a wicked grin blended with happiness is forming on his faceplate as his words trail on slowly, almost as he is tasting it.

"I mean", you correct yourself, you really didn't need to, "heat is coming from your body, are you going flames on again? Are we under attack again?"

"What? Nah, just...", daydreaming about impossibilities, about a weak porn, like humans call it, without basis, heated romance and passion he isn't even sure you share with him, impossibilities that drag his bleeding spark over every movement and word of yours that he clings on with greedy servos, it's so embarrassing and he is sure he'll offline by pure mortification if you ever get a word about his attraction to you just to be faced by any degree of disgust coming from you, "it's getting cold in here, wouldn't want you to freeze those little fingers to dead", he doesn't even offer his servo but it is almost a natural response when he sees you approaching him with fear on your steps by any possibility of being another normal day aboard the Lost Light, he doesn't even stop and let's you settle on his lap like the security protocols indicated.

Fear washes away quickly when you register his words, there is curiosity on your eyes, looking between him and your hands, before finally look at him in the optics again, "Oh, didn't know you heard about the effects of excessive cold on the most distant phalanges, I mean, it's something that only happens while in extreme freezing conditions in harsh environments or controlled ones in closed lab experiments-"

Rodimus really didn't get what you were talking or the whole deal you were explaining to him, but seeing you feel secure next to him, taking seat above him showing the full confidence and trust you put on him while your hands move to explain your point, putting the warm palm against his armor from time to time.

"Everything you touch is bound to fail anyway", harsh words pang among his memory archives while he touches a side of yours to prevent a fall, but he silenced it, preferring the sound of your voice that now was about something called homeostasis.

He wouldn't trade this moment for anything, not when he offers you a digit and you hold it immediately, well, maybe a kiss if you could be generous enough, but he will get there soon, he hopes so.

.

I totally offer this one to @archie-sunshine and @pinkanonwrites by their glorious work of overheating and teasing Rodimus, I love it to the moon and back to hear about one of my faves even when he is mentally unstable and runs hot most of the time, it's his own charm, specially their newest works that relate to Roddy so much.

[factorydefaultlu]

“Drunk Sex/Tipsy Sex” with zoro (established relationship please)

Gimme One Margarita

Roronoa Zoro x AFAB!Reader

Drunk sex, unprotected sex, creampie

AN: This turned into more of a drabble in bullet point form, as usual no beta read we die like men.

One too many drinks were had at the bar on the docks. Zoro holds his liquor pretty well, but you? Not so much.

You'd been pawing at Zoro's shirt for the last hour, barely able to keep your balance. Pressing your hands into his shirt and feeling the warmth of his skin, you giggle and stare up at him.

He doesn't seem annoyed, in fact he's quite amused. A faint smirk plays on his lips before he begins to speak.

"I think it's about time to cut you off." He takes your nearly empty cocktail from your hands and sets it on the bartop.

"Hey! I wasn't done." You pout and reach for the glass, his strong arms prevent you from doing so as he pulls you into him and starts walking you to the ship.

He presses his lips to your ear and speaks "Your balance and touchiness says otherwise."

Zoro's voice makes you shiver and you allow him to walk you away from the crowd and onto the boat. His large hands grip you tightly as you stumble.

"You're drunk." He states.

He gets you to the sleeping quarters and you turn quickly, pushing him against the wall.

"Kiss me." You demand, heart hammering in your chest.

"And you're hot." You fist his shirt for the umpteenth time that night.

Zoro sighs, and let's out a chuckle. He brings one hand to your jaw to guide your lips to his. He can taste the fruity flavor of your cocktail and remnants of tequila, slipping his tongue into your mouth for a better taste

You groan as he takes control, pressing your hips to his, you feel his cock growing hard. Your lips curl into a smile as your own hands go from his shoulders down to start unbuttoning his pants.

He pulls away a bit and curses. "Fuck. Strip and go get on the couch."

You giggle, eyeing him and watching how his cock desperately bobs as he stares at your naked body. He leans forward and kisses you again, hot and needy

Wasting no time, you peel your clothes off and crawl onto the couch. Zoro does the same, working quickly so he can pull your hips to the edge.

Zoro's hands trace your body, giving your tits a cheeky squeeze before he grabs your hips. He pulls them flush with his and you groan at the feeling of his cock against your cunt.

The alcohol makes your head spin and you can't help but laugh into the kiss, "Zoro fuck me, please."

He doesn't need to be told twice before he's lining up the tip and pushing all the way in. He bottoms out quickly, your greedy cunt swallows him fast and let's out a long groan as he bottoms out.

"Fuck, that'll never not feel like heaven." his head falls forward and he buries himself into your neck. His hips start to move quickly, the alcohol burning in his body and making him desperate.

He thrusts into you with reckless abandon, and you don't mind one bit. His cock bullies your sopping cunt as he uses you like a toy.

You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders and squeezing your thighs around his waist

"God dammit you're tight as hell." Zoro groans into your neck.

He hits that sweet spot inside you, and you can already tell that he's close. It isn't long before his hands dig into your hips and slams against you one last time. Hot jizz splatters your cunt and fills you up even more.

You run your fingers through his hair, admiring how looks when he's all fucked out.

"Too tired."

As he pulls out, you feel his cum seep out of you. "We should clean up before the others decide they want to turn in for the night." You suggest, he just sighs and lays his head on your chest.

[quinloki]

Inspired by this (and it's going to be a disaster, I should be going to bed and here I am writing this instead, dammit @kazieai.)

CW: Zoan induced "heat", ends a little dubious, mdni

Marco's been in heat before, he has. It happened once a year like clockwork, but as he's gotten older it's settled down. It's been a couple years.

In that time he met you, and the two of you have since fallen deeply in love. He's warned you, about the heats, he doesn't know if they're done or not, but you're not worried.

At least until it hits him.

The first night he's snuggling with you, but he won't go any further. It can be so hard to control himself when he's like this and usually he doesn't have the urge directed toward any one person, but now he just wants you.

Cuddling will help. Your scent, your presence, it'll keep him calm.

By the third day the crew's sent you to a different ship in the fleet. Marco's clawing at the walls in desperation and he's worried he'll hurt you - he'd never forgive himself, and if anyone is going to suffer, it's going to be him.

By the fifth day he's half mad with desire and he's losing control. Thatch and Izou can't hold him back, Ace is already in the infirmary and Pops is caught between knowing he could lay Marco out - and he could accidentally kill his son trying to lay him out. He's never seen the Zoan like this before and he doesn't know where the line would be.

If only they'd cuffed him a couple days ago, it might have been different.

Thankfully the ship you had transferred to was docked, and no one else was around to get between you and Marco. No one else sees more than a teal and gold blur as the Phoenix snatches you off the street.

You're caught between fear and relief. You'd been worried about him, and you had a right to worry, but here he was, and no matter what happened you had faith in him. It's in the densest field of flowers that he lays you down, and you're both like a pair of frantic teenagers.

Deep, heavy, nearly bruising kisses are exchanged messily between you as you're both pulling away clothing. Marco's heavy cock ruts against your slit a couple times and he adjusts just in time to press his tip against your entrance and cum. He's barely got the tip in, but he's created enough slick to follow right in behind it.

His hands are all over your skin and you don't hold back, clawing his skin and moaning as he rails you. Sweet words, shivered apologies, and growled promises slip from between his teeth and when he cums the second time you can feel his body throb and half transform.

the scrap of talons drive into the dirt as he starts the 3rd round. You can feel something crashing against your cunt and realize as his arms flicker between hands and wings that he's transformed enough to have a knot. It wouldn't be the first time, but he's not in control right now, and you can't even express your concern as your first orgasm crashes into you.

The euphoric cry that escapes you seems to send him into a frenzy. All you can do is grab scraps of air between deep, fevered kisses, as he devours your pleasure, grunting against your lips when he cums again. You second orgasm is what the knot needed, and you throw your head back in a scream that's half pleasure half pain as the knot stretches you without mercy.

Flames erupt around you and you can feel them healing you, soothing the burn and easing the raw sensations and Marco's teeth are sinking into your skin as he apologizes in feral growls and gods you understand why he wanted to keep you safe as he bullies his cock, knot and all, in and out of your dripping cunt.

You can't keep track of the orgasms, you can't feel anything but the edges of exhaustion and the mind-numbing flood of pleasure as your body twitches beneath him. The flames sap your stamina as much as the orgasms, but neither seem to slow Marco down.

Bruises dot your skin, teeth marks peppered between them. You're a barely conscious mess with just enough awareness to realize he's pulled out of you and hasn't pushed immediately back in.

"Rest." He huffs, and by the seas you think the sun is setting, or maybe it's rising, but you know he'll let you rest. Even as he lays his head on your thigh, drinking in the intoxicating scent of your sweat, and pleasure, and juices mixed in with the thick dribble of his seed, and he needs more, hells he needs more, but he can let you rest.

He can soothe his ravenous desire with the sweet scent of you so you can sleep a little, and there's no one out here to see him rutting into the flowers like he would a pillow back on the ship, once, twice, three more times before he's finally spent enough himself to rest a little. One eye open in the open field, and when you wake he'll sate what's left of the heat then, and after that he'll pamper you for a week.

A month, more like. He'll wait on you hand and foot to make up for it, anything you ask. Anything and everything, he loves you so much, he can't get enough of you even when he's not half-mad like this, you're so beautiful, and there's no one who feels better - no one who sounds better.

Oh the sounds, just one more can't hurt? One sweet moan to ease him into a nice nap. Certainly he's old enough now, in control enough, he can hear one more soft note before he rests.

Licking the swollen nub of your clit, the sweet whimper than escapes your lips is alluring and it's okay, it's okay, you'll sleep right through this. He'll be so gentle, don't worry pretty bird.

Dream sweet dreams.

[howlingday]

RUBY VS JAUNE

Having survived a harrowing experience on all fronts, including Jaune getting mugged of all the team's lien, an unfortunate issue has come up to make matters worse. The Leaping Juniper, beloved Bullhead of the Bowlcap Huntresses, has received irreparable damage. Ruby, Blake, and Oscar have all spoken to Atlas mechanics on the matter and have offered a replacement ship. Ruby has made her decision, but Jaune is stubborn and refuses to budge on the issue.

Ruby: Jaune, it's time to let go. I already told you; The Juniper can't be fixed anymore! It doesn't matter what we do. We... We can't fix her.

Jaune: (Grits teeth, Sinks to floor)

Ruby: I wouldn't say this if it wasn't true.

Jaune: Oh, you mean THIS Bullhead?! The same one we're both standing in right now?!

Ruby: Yeah. That's right. It's only a matter of time before she crashes, or worse.

Jaune: ...You're lying.

Ruby: I'm not. I asked my uncle's friends to take a look at it and they said nobody on Remnant could fix it. They said she wouldn't be able to take off, and if she did, she wouldn't stay in the air long enough to get us to even the next town.

Jaune: ...So that's how it's going to be, huh? You just let a drunk and his alcoholic friends get into your head, and you don't think to ask any questions?

Ruby: That's enough.

Jaune: I won't say they don't have some idea of what's going on, but this is just wrong! DON'T GIVE UP ON THE JUNIPER! What about all the adventures we've been on together?! What about all the battles we've fought?! She's our friend! SHE'S ONE OF US! ARE YOU JUST GOING TO ABANDON HER WITHOUT ANOTHER THOUGHT?!

Jaune: (Huffing) After all we've been through, is that how little The Juniper means to you, Ruby?!

Ruby: ...

Jaune: (Wipes tears)

Oscar: Jaune, I know you're upset, but you need to calm down.

Jaune: I'm sorry, but no. (Coughs) I'm not backing down until we settle this.

Blake: Jaune, please...

Jaune: ...

Ruby: ...What? You think you know better than the mechanics?! If we had somebody on our team who knew how to fix Bullheads, then we wouldn't have asked them in the first place!

Jaune: Screw them! We don't need those guys telling us what to do! I'll just fix it up myself. Same as I always do. We've made this far and we can keep going even further. (Groans as he struggles to stand) I'll... I'll get started... right now... C... C'mon, guys... Give me a hand...

Yang: It's not gonna work.

Jaune: You're right. We need bolts. Screws. Fuel for the welding torch. I'll grab some from the auto-shop.

Ruby: ...

Jaune: We've got a lot of work to do-

Ruby: YOU'RE NOT A MECHANIC, JAUNE! YOU HEAR ME?!

Blake: Stop it, Ruby!

Jaune: I know, dammit! But so what?! I don't get why you're so hung up on everything those stupid mechanics have to say! IF THEY KNEW HALF THE THINGS SHE WENT THROUGH, THEY WOULDN'T GIVE UP ON THE JUNIPER LIKE YOU GUYS ARE! THEY JUST WANT YOUR LIEN!

Blake: Jaune...

Jaune: The Juniper is our ship, so it's up to us to take care of her without anyone else butting in! I'm not giving up! I WON'T LET THEM TAKE THE JUNIPER AWAY FROM ME!

Jaune: This... This is so stupid... You're getting conned by a bunch of fast-talking salesmen trying to hawk off a used plane. The Ruby I know wouldn't cave in to a sales pitch from somebody she'd never met! She would believe in the strength of The Juniper and the strength of her team! (Grabs) BUT HERE YOU ARE, IGNORING HER JUST LIKE HOW YOU'RE IGNORING YOUR FRIENDS!

Blake: Usopp, listen to us, it's not that-

Ruby: DON'T GET IN THE WAY, BLAKE! This is my decision! We're leaving The Leaping Juniper and getting a new ship!

Jaune: (Grabbed)

Ruby: You think I want to do this? You think this isn't hard for me to do, too?

Jaune: If it's so damn hard, then you wouldn't even think about changing Bullheads!

Ruby: FINE! IF YOU AREN'T GOING TO RESPECT MY DECISIONS, THEN YOU CAN GET THE HELL OFF MY-

CRACK!

Ruby: (Smashed through the dining table)

Jaune: (On the floor, Wide-eyed)

Blake: (Covering her mouth)

Oscar: (Shaking)

Weiss: ...

Yang: (Panting, Clenching fist) Dumbass... What the hell were you about to say?

Jaune: ...Fine. I get it now. I know how you really feel, Ruby.

Ruby: Dammit, no! That's not what I meant!

Jaune: (Stands up, Walking away) Just drop the useless baggage and keep moving, right? And if you're getting rid of The Juniper, THEN YOU MIGHT AS WELL TOSS ME AWAY, TOO.

Yang: Dammit, I get that you're pissed off, but don't you start saying stupid shit, too!

Jaune: (Stops) I mean it. I've been thinking about this for a long time. I'm not an idiot when the writing's on the wall. You're all way too strong for me now. I can't keep up anymore. Like, look at me right now! I couldn't even handle a couple of punks trying to rob me! There's no point having me around if all I do is cause you guys trouble.

Weiss: ...

Blake: ...

Yang: ...

Oscar: ...

Jaune: You don't want weak people on your team, right? Ruby... I know in my heart that you will be the Queen of Huntresses one day, but me? I was just lucky enough to get this far. Back when we first met, I was gonna go off on my own. You only let me on your team out of pity.

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

Weiss: What are you talking about, you buffoon? Get on already!.

Ruby: We're friends, aren't we? So come aboard!.

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

Jaune: That's the only reason I'm here. There's no point in all of us being here if we don't have the same goal!

Ruby: ...

Jaune: (Walks out)

Yang: Hey! Jaune! Where the hell are you going?!

Jaune: Where I'm going is my business and my business alone. It's none of your business anymore. I'm... I'm sorry, guys, but I'm leaving the team. Good-bye!

Blake: (Running for shutting door)

Yang: (Running for shutting door)

Oscar: (Running for shutting door, Door shut) Jaune... Why..?

Blake: No... (Looks to Ruby) What are you doing, Ruby?! Who knows what he's going to do! Say something to him! Stop him before it's too late!

Ruby: ...

Blake: We came too far together to start breaking up now! We can't go running off, leaving each other like this! Jaune isn't just a team member. He's our friend! Why aren't you getting up and stopping him?!

Ruby: ...

Blake: Ruby... What's going on? Please... You're our leader.

Ruby: ...

Blake: ...Fine. Whatever. (Runs out door) JAUNE! JAUNE, COME BACK! IT SHOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS! COME ON! LET'S TALK THIS OUT!

Yang: YEAH! COME BACK!

Oscar: I WANT YOU TO STAY! DON'T LEAVE US! (Sobs)

Weiss: ...

Ruby: (Walks out)

Blake: ...Say something, Ruby. Please.

Ruby: ...

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

Jaune: Need some help?.

Jaune: The name's Jaune, Jaune Arc! Short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it~!.

Jaune: You'll pull us through. Like you always have.

Jaune: Ruby.

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

Jaune: (Stops) Ruby. I'm sorry I can't follow you anymore. And I'm sorry I was a pain until the bitter end.

Ruby: ...

Jaune: I know you're the leader of this team, so The Juniper belongs to you.

Jaune: (Turns) That's why I want you to fight me

Ruby: ...

Jaune: RUBY ROSE, I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!

Ruby: ...

Jaune: YOU'D BETTER GIVE UP NOW, RUBY, BECAUSE... BECAUSE I HAVE MORE THAN 100,000 WARRIORS READY TO SERVE ME!

Oscar: WHAT?! 100,000?!

Weiss: Go back inside, Oscar.

Ruby: You and I both know you're lying, Jaune. And don't start making excuses now. No matter how this fight ends, you can't regret it. You asked for a duel, and you're getting a duel.

Jaune: Fine by me! Don't even think about going easy on me!

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

One Intense Battle of Wills Later...

Weiss: Game over.

Jaune: (Gasping, Collapses)

Ruby: ...You idiot. You knew you couldn't win! Didn't you?! (Sniffles, Turns) See ya, Jaune. It's been fun.

Weiss: ...Something on your mind, Leader?

Ruby: This... This hurts, Weiss...

Weiss: That's what it means to be the leader, doesn't it? Don't falter.

Yang: ...

Blake: (Covering her eyes, Weeping)

Oscar: (Trying not to sob, Sobbing)

Weiss: If you break, then who can we count on?

Ruby: ...

Weiss: There's no going back now. To this Bullhead, or anything else.

Ruby: (Tears flowing)

Jaune: (Tears pooling)

[tsaritza-mika]

More Tadfools Shit that We all Need

BECAUSE WE NEED MORE CHAOTIC FOUND FAMILY SHENANIGANS DAMMIT!!!

I need Astarion learning he can spider crawl on the ceiling, and then completely fucking with everyone. Everyone’s helms keep coming off their heads when they’re walking out the door? Astarion is failing at trying so hard not to laugh and give himself away. Lae’zel, Shadowheart, Gale, and Halsin’s hair keeps coming undone? Astarion is being a little shit again and stealing the ribbons/clips that hold them in place! Wyll and Karlach discovering their horns now have ridiculous looking ornaments/bells hanging off them? Astarion stole a bag from a shop and thought the two could use some more decoration!

I need Gale to decide that its time to remind everyone in camp where the real power is, and cast a protection spell on himself that makes him immune to intense heat, while making dinner as spicy as fuck! Then he can sit around calmly while everyone else is either crying about how they’re going to die, or rushing to dunk their entire head in the Chionthar

I need Halsin deciding he’s had enough of Minthara’s ‘Drow are so superior’ talk and secretly instructing everyone to act as if all is normal, while leaving an increasing amount of carved ducks around her tent area. Every time she enters/leaves her tent there are more and more freaking ducks!! And then she wakes one morning to find herself covered in them and her bedroll floating in the middle of the river!!

I need Shadowheart and Karlach to go around while everyone’s asleep and use her makeup to draw dicks and other offensive things on everyone else's faces, but then to make sure they aren’t caught, they do it to each other but it's super obvious they were the culprits cause they’re the only ones with compliments on their faces

I need Jaheira to absolutely misuse vine whip as an improvised leash so that keeping these stupid children she’s been saddled with from running off to die ridiculous deaths will be easier

@the-skeleton-speaks We need Astarion being designated the camp tailor, but he’s low-key salty about it because what the fuck do these people just not take care of their shit!? So he deliberately uses thread that is either the same color or just a tad too light/dark and embroiders insults into each of them

We need Karlach helping Wyll with his horns/hair, because he’s not used to working around them, but it takes her a while to get it the way he likes, and by the time she’s done, his neck and her hands are so damn sore

@ultimmmmmp We need Minthara and Lae’zel being absolute trolls and slipping Selunite trinkets/symbols all around Shadowheart’s tent, and then making comments about how bad she’s been at trying to convince them she was such an edgy cleric and followed Shar

@basiliskfree We need Karlach and Wyll getting too damn excited about all the hero stories to the point that they start role playing the fights and quoting terribly cheesy heroic banter

@ryttu3k (this is as close as I’ll get cause I’m not on the bloodweave ship XDDD) We need Astarion messing w/ Gale while he’s asleep by moving all of his bookmarks to the wrong pages, relocating his books around to other parts of the camp, and even being so brazen as to dogear a page or two in some of his known favs @soul-of-rei We need Astarion, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart to be the mean girl crew, commenting on everything and everyone and just being general catty menaces! The three of them turn Vicious Mockery into an art to be feared! Practicing your fighting technique? Pathetic Istick! A Gith wouldn’t need to do it more than twice, yet you’ve been doing it all afternoon and you’re still sloppy as a hatchling! How about your makeup? Shar save us from your pathetic attempt at a smokey-eye... Is yellow your color? Darling if yellow was your color, then it wouldn’t leave you looking like a rotten lemon! @scourgiez Gale and Jaheira just coming to the end of their patience with the aforementioned mean girl crew and casting silence on the lot of them, because holy fuck do they have to comment on every fucking thing within eyesight!? Also please tag me if you draw these, I want to see all the things XDD

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Could you do a platonic crew with a reader who has a devilfruit that gives them similar abilities to deadpool (aka any injury regenerates)- but unlike deadpool they can die if they gain enough damage, but the reader doesn’t realise/accept this and constantly risks their life for the crew cause they think they’ll be okay?

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.2k words

Warning for descriptions of serious injuries

“Dammit, let me out!”

You yank on the infirmary door again despite knowing what a waste of time it was. With an aggravated huff, you turn around and shamble back to the bed. Your body was in agony from the wounds you took on today. Even though your devil fruit was working hard to fix it, this would take time to fully heal and stop hurting. It’s probably best to lay down for a bit, you just wish you could do so in your own bed.

They’re all over reacting, and they know it. You’re borderline immortal, and sure, you cut it a little close this time, but you were fine now! The battle was over, it’s not like you’re in any danger. 

You’re aware that your devil fruit can be unsettling at times, it’s unnatural to see someone recover from what would be a mortal wound for anyone else. Even Chopper couldn’t help but look disturbed when they found you after you threw yourself over a bomb. The explosion mostly damaged your legs, even taking one off entirely. 

The worst part though was the piece of shrapnel that shot up and cut open your abdomen. If it weren’t for you manually holding the wound shut, your organs would’ve all spilled out onto the ground.

Chopper had given you some painkillers to hold you over until you finished healing, but they can only do so much against something this severe. You roll onto your side to grab the water from the bedside table, but an intense pain shoots through you, making you drop it on the ground.

The glass shatters on impact, and you drop your head back onto your pillow with a groan. As you attempt to slip out of the bed again to pick up the broken glass, the door is thrown open and Chopper rushes in, “I heard something break! What hap- Get back in the bed!”

He ran over to you and shooed you back into lying down, “You’re too hurt to be moving around like this!” 

“I’m already mostly healed, it’s not like I’m going to die,” you grumbled, annoyed that you even have to state this. Everyone on board is well aware of how your powers work.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Chopper stopped picking up glass and snapped his head towards you. Tears were pouring down his face, but he forced himself to speak through them, “Y-You won’t know what is going to be enough to kill you until it’s too late!”

Now you just felt bad. You care about your crew, and making them cry is not something you ever want to do. Even if you have done so multiple times. Awkwardly, you reach out to put your hand on his shoulder, “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Chopper aggressively rubs at his eyes and sniffles loudly, “You n-need to stop d-doing this! I hate it, everyone hates it! We’re all-”

“Chopper.”

Both of you snap your attention to the door, where Luffy is standing. His hat is obscuring his eyes, but you can feel them on you regardless. What’s worse, he’s openly frowning. That’s never a good sign, especially not after you’ve landed yourself back in the infirmary.

The ship’s doctor walked out without another word, closing the door behind him. Now it’s just you and Luffy. He’s eerily silent as he approaches your bed and takes a seat at the foot of it. You can already guess where this is going. He’s going to tell you to stop acting like you’re the only one who can protect everyone else and to let others help. 

You’ve had this conversation with him many times. It’s not like you were intentionally trying to go against his words, you wanted to heed his orders and be a good crewmate, really! It’s just that whenever you are in the heat of the moment, you instinctively put yourself in harm’s way. You could take damage better than anyone, what else were you supposed to do?

“You’re done.”

Your blood ran cold in your veins, “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re done, we’re not letting you do this again,” Luffy stated plainly, like it was the most obvious conclusion to come to. 

You attempt to sit up, but the pain that shoots through you brings that to a halt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you kicking me out?” You ground out.

“I never said that. You’re just done fighting, that’s it,” Luffy finally lifted his head enough for you to make eye contact with him, and you wish he hadn’t. The look in his eyes is so intense that your argument died on your tongue. “Is that understood?”

“Wha… What else am I-”

Luffy’s hand clamped over your mouth, you see anger flicker across his face as he grinds his teeth together, “Don’t argue with me! I’m sick of you never listening! I’m your captain, if I say you’re done, then you’re done!” His voice raises in volume with every word until he’s practically screaming at you.

Tears drip onto your face as he looms above you, hiccupping as his own sorrow overcomes him. “Why do you keep doing this? Why do you act like you’re going to survive no matter what? You almost died!” He abruptly lets go of your mouth and collapses on top of your body, clutching onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. His hat tumbles off his head and onto the bed beside you.

His weight feels uncomfortable on your recovering injuries, but you don’t say anything. Lightly, you bring a hand up to his head to gently run your fingers through his hair. This action only makes him hold you closer as his cries get louder.

You’re torn. As much as you want to be upset about his previous words to you, it’s impossible to act on those emotions when he’s sobbing on top of you. Your near death clearly bothered him more than you had realized. Were you really in the wrong for acting the way you did? If what you were doing was so great, why was it hurting all your friends so badly?

“I’m sorry,” you croak out as your own eyes start to tear up.

Luffy doesn’t answer. You’re not sure he even heard you over his crying. You can faintly hear hushed words being spoken outside the infirmary door, but there’s nothing you can do right now to hear it better. Your crewmates are no doubt discussing what to do with you now that Luffy was seemingly dead set on not letting you onto a battlefield again.

Hopefully, this was all said because he lost control of his emotions, and when he calms down he’ll change his mind. That had to be the case. I mean really, it’s not like you could just sit back and do nothing while everyone else risked life and limb. You’ll be more careful from now on, for real this time. You’ll take their feelings into consideration before acting so recklessly. It won’t happen again.

Although… it’s unclear if that’s because you’re going to change your ways, or if they are going to make you whether you want to or not.

[carniferous]

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them. 

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light. 

He felt his heart soften, just a tad. 

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide. 

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking. 

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown. 

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze. 

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential. 

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself. 

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.

[corpsebasil]

Princes and Prostitutes +18

Nikolai and Y/N, the absolute meanest, most ridiculous pirate queen of the seas, had been running for their lives the past few days.

They’d been hiding in inns, taverns, and even went so far as to squash themselves together in the contraband compartment in someone’s wagon, all in hopes to escape the Stadwatch that trailed their every movements. The guards seemed to have a sixth sense for the two privateers, and the two of them were sick of being squashed together at all hours. It was all his fault, too, for bickering with her over who was docking where in Ketterdam, only for them to damage their own ships and take out several others by accident.

Hers was wrecked beyond belief and was being worked on, the dock crew promising to have it sent to Ravka with some other travelers as long as she didn’t wind up in jail. She bristled at the idea of anyone else operating her ship, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

Idiot, that’s what he was, and she’d gladly informed him of it.

“Come on,” Nikolai whispered, tugging the girl along as they ducked into an alleyway. Saints, he really was an idiot. It was a dead end. “Dammit we—” he paused, head snapping around when he heard the approaching sound of guards. “We’re going to die.”

“You’re going to die.” She argued, glancing around the alley. The only people other than them were a couple of prostitutes and their night’s customers, tucked into different areas and ignoring everyone else with trained skill. Her nose wrinkled. “Nevermind. We might.”

“Quick,” Nikolai said, yanking his cloak off as he backed against the dark wall, his face covered in shadow. “act like a whore.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’re almost here just do it.”

She opened her mouth to snap at him but tensed when she heard the footsteps growing closer; they were right around the corner, and she sure as hell hadn’t planned on spending the rest of her years in a sinkhole of a prison. Nikolai seemed to read the expression on her face and tugged her forward, almost tripping her when he yanked her completely up against him.

She bristled at the proximity, even more so when one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other hand slipping into her hair as if to play with it. He smirked, the playboy incarnate, and tilted his head down towards hers. She hated to admit it, but he smelled really, really good, and he was even more handsome up close than she’d realized.

“I still hate you.” She whispered, glaring up at him, at those blue eyes filled with mischief. And as the first Stadwatch rounded the corner, searching for two criminals on the run, he simply smiled and said, “You can kill me later.”, before lowering his mouth to hers.

She pressed her hands against his chest hard, attempting to keep some space between them, but his mouth was—and she—

Her eyes slipped closed as her hands clenched tightly around the material of his shirt, and pressed her body closer to his. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped him harder, her restraint breaking when his hand pressed deeper into her break and his fingers carded through her hair.

After five or so minutes, all signs of the guards, and the prostitutes, were gone. Clearly whoever their customers were were eager to get out of the way of the officers, likely criminals in their own rights. But Nikolai had now gotten Y/N pinned against the wall instead of himself, and was kissing her languidly, as if they had all the time in the world instead of only the next few minutes they’d bought themselves with their ruse.

“Nik—” she gasped against his mouth, attempting to push him away, but he only smirked again, and nipped her bottom lip. She jolted in surprise, opening her mouth to curse at him, but he only took the opportunity to slide his tongue over the injured lip, and her brain emptied of the harsh words she’d been preparing. “Nik.” She repeated on a sigh, and he let out a small noise of pleasure, pulling her left leg up and wrapping it around his waist.

With the difference in the angle between them he was able to press his hips roughly against her own, and she made a sound that crossed between a gasp and a moan. He stiffened, pulling his head back half an inch and scanning her face.

“If you make a sound like that again I’m going to take you right here in this alleyway.”

Her stomach dropped and she shoved him off, ignoring her flushed cheeks and likely swollen lips. But then he grinned, that shit-eating, sarcastic grin of his, and her glare was right back on her face.

“I’m not interested in other pirates.” She scoffed, wiping her mouth as if to remove evidence of his kisses. “I like my men powerful. And not on the seas.”

He tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Technically, I’m also a—”

A loud crack of thunder echoed around them as the skies began to open up, Y/N tilting her face up to receive the first droplets. Her mood darkened further. She had no intentions of walking around like a wet cat; she’d catch her death in this weather.

“Here,” Nikolai offered, quickly shrugging off his jacket and holding it over her head like an umbrella.

“I don’t need your stupid jacket.” She snapped, and began walking away, stomping down the street towards the nearest inn. He followed without comment and did his best to bite back a smile when he pressed closer and wrapped his jacket over the both of them, and she didn’t protest.

They were quiet as they walked, but his heart was still thrumming in his chest. Sure, she annoyed him, and had the temperament of a feral raccoon, but there was no denying her beauty, or the fact that when she’d moaned when he pushed his hips against hers…

He stifled a rush of desire and forced himself not to look down at her, and not to breathe in the sweet smell of her perfume too deeply. A smell that was slowly being washed away by the rain, his jacket beginning to soak, and with no small ounce of relief they pushed through the door of a shoddy looking inn and stepped into the dry warmth.

The innkeeper barely gave them a second glance before handing them a room key. Y/N insisted on two, and rather than fight with her anymore, he grumbled his annoyance and slid the extra cost across the counter. He snatched up the second key and began walking towards the stairs, eager for a hot bath, maybe change his clothes…

Y/N kept right in step with him, only to knock him aside with her hip as she cut in front of him to the stairs. She squeaked out loud when his hands grabbed her waist and he picked her up, turning to set her back down behind him. Her arms crossed.

“Really?” She asked, rolling her eyes. “It’s just stairs.”

“No cutting in line.” He grinned when she cursed under her breath, but didn’t try it again as they made their way up to their rooms. His floor was first, so he gave her a mocking salute as she continued up, his eyes catching a glimpse of her backside in her tight, way too tight, pants.

“Stop looking at my ass, Lantsov.” She called down, not even turning as she wounded a step and moved out of sight.

He was still chuckling to himself when he unlocked his room, shut the door, and began running himself a bath.

***

Y/N was brushing her hair when a knock hit her door. At first she jumped; but if it was the Stadwatch, they would’ve simply barged in. Mumbling under her breath she stood, tightening the thin robe the inn had provided around her, and opened the door.

Nikolai stood front of her, his arm braced against the doorway, a fresh shirt and pants on him. His hair was damp, and a piece of it was stuck to his forward. Her fingers itched to push it away, but instead she cocked her head, tapping a bare foot on the floor.

“Can I help you?” She asked sweetly, mockingly sweet, but for once he didn’t smirk. In fact, his grin was half-hearted when he replied.

“Just…making sure you didn’t drown in your bath.”

“How kind.” She waited in silence for him to continue, but when he just kept glancing around her room, then at her, she sighed impatiently. “Nik, what are you—”

He moved forward and shut the door, his hands immediately darting up to grasp her face as he kissed her. It was harsher than the ones in the alleyway, more bruising and rushed, and she choked on a surprised gasp before she shoved him off.

“What the hell—you can’t just—”

“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave.” He promised, eyes burning down at her, and her mouth went dry. She looked around the room as if for another exit, but he touched her face again. “Y/N, tell me.”

“I—” her voice faltered as she looked at his mouth, and that was all the permission he needed before he kissed her again, backing her up towards the bed.

Her back hit the mattress with a soft groan, her mouth parting on a sigh when he climbed over her, pressing every inch of that glorious body of his against her. His kissed her mouth, then her jaw, and she whispered his name reverently as her fingers clutched him to her. His lips trailed warm kisses down her neck, and then his free hand tugged at the ties of her robe, and she sat up on her elbows to watch him.

His eyes took her in as he parted the fabric, a mumbled curse leaving those perfect lips. She would’ve grinned, if only for the fact that he hadn’t bent down and put his mouth on her chest, licking her and making her head fall back on a moan.

“You’re gorgeous.” He breathed, moving down to her stomach, tugging her robe off as he went. “Your body is…” he didn’t finish, only paused above her navel, listening to her shallow breathing as he neared the apex of her thighs. “I should corner you in alleyways more often, shouldn’t I?” He teased.

“This was your…evil plan, huh?” She let out a breathy laugh, her heart quickening when he picked up that same left leg and tucked it over her shoulder. “Wreck my ship just so you can—oh.” She gasped and almost choked on it when he licked her slowly, then circled his tongue around the bud he then sucked gently on. “Nik.” Her voice practically whined his name, and his chuckle sent vibrations across her center.

“Tell me how it feels, love.” He said against her, before slipping his fingers between her legs, deep.

She only gasped his name, her heel digging into his back. She was definitely going to bruise him but she didn’t care, not when her fingers were locked in a vise like grip on his curls and his mouth was doing that to her.

“You’re shaking.” He observed, adding a bit more pressure with his tongue, and she tugged his hair harder, her voice cracking in half when she spoke.

“Nik I’m—”

“I know.” He said, cocky bastard that he was, and she came, barely able to yank in a sharp breath into her lungs as her body jerked with the shot of intense pleasure that blossomed up between her legs. Her foot pressed harder against his back before she weakened, shoving at his head and when the sensitivity became too much.

He still licked her one more time anyways, for good measure, and she could’ve smacked him for it.

She was exhausted, but she still reached for the waist of his pants, only to see him retreating from her.

“Where are you—” she asked, watching him walk to the other side of the bed. He tugged off his shirt and pants, and blew the candles out, slipping under the covers. She followed suit, her confusion still hanging in the air when he didn’t immediately leap onto her and fuck her lights out. “Nik?”

“When I have you for the first time, it’s not going to be in some inn.” Was his explanation, rolling to face her. She snorted.

“Really? You’re not going to—?”

“Not tonight.” He said, reaching out to wind her hair around his fingers. “But I can go down on you as many times as you want me to, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart.” She informed him, but her face still warmed at his words. Damn her, he was starting to worm his way inside of her heart. The bastard. “Do you think we’re going to make it out of here?” She whispered now, meeting his eyes.

He didn’t respond at first, only brought his face closer and kissed her softly, his nose pressed to hers as he ran a hand down her bare side, marveling at the expanse of smooth skin.

“It’s you and me, Y/N.” He told her, and nestled into her, wrapping his arm around her waist. “We always make it out of trouble.”

She laughed softly, burrowing into him. She never would have done this before today, she tried to tell herself. It definitely wasn’t chemistry that kept them on their toes around one another, their sharp tongues and attitudes covering up need. But as she ran a hand up his shoulder to touch his hair again, she felt a rush of desire so intense it almost took her breath away.

“Easy, tiger.” His dark chuckle against her hair made her redden, and she nipped at his chest, making his laugh gutter out. “We’re leaving at dawn. I want you in my bedroom with nothing but your wonderful attitude.”

“You love my attitude.” She muttered, but flushed from head to toe, legs winding with his as she tried not to imagine what exactly he was planning on doing to her once they got back on his ship and left Ketterdam.

This one’s for the nasty gals you’re welcome