#call this my airing of grievances

[mrnoital]

As we enjoy this Holiday chili, let's not forget the reason for the season...(devolves into anti-capitalist rant)

[pcktknife]

hazards been revealed and can i just say.....girl......

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[mortiflyer]

even now the way people frame the wertheim situation is so weird...? not to beat a dead horse but why are so many people so willing to disregard it as what it was: a derogatory comment about a woman's appearance when her appearance has nothing to do with her job?? the way people are acting like the issue is that he made a misstep in the commentary/journalism world and he said something "that can be viewed as controversial"...no. the problem is that he felt comfortable enough to deride barbora's looks to the people he WORKS WITH on TENNIS CHANNEL and then acted like it was wrong because he got caught...not something going to yale teaches you, closer to human decency methinks. also why is it "extremely disrespectful" but not sexist. quickly

[icewindandboringhorror]

[crescentfool]

just put a one star review on the tumblr app 🤧

[relaxxattack]

tbh your post about dreamsmp is the first thing I have heard relating to dreamsmp in almost a year.

I hear they’re dead but this is your reminder that being a hater is Free Advertising for the thing that you hate.

anon i appreciate you, truly, but considering the dsmp wasted like two and a half years of my life and 90% of my followers followed specifically for that i think i have somewhat of a right to still be a little hater about it

[esreal]

tell us about Ezreal's flaws and vices 👀

what an original question I've never been asked before!!! *ctrl+C our discord chat* *ctrl+V our discord chat*.

Long post under the cut, but I'll focus on one primary one that I'd wish other people/Ezreal writers would join me in recognizing and considering as part of his characterization in the Runeterra mainverse. We can talk about how easily he brags / overcompensates / is at the critical mass of being an insecure guy, but I think it'll be more fun to talk about the intersection of exploration and exploitation.

tw / topics of colonialization, genocide, racism, and exploitation of indigenous cultures.

So Ezreal's lore is really straight forward! In short, he grows up in the wealthiest, privileged part that Piltover has to offer to two loving parents that are constantly on archaeology-based expeditions. His uncle is a professor at the University who also works as a curator to a museum that I'm assuming is adjacent to the academy. After his parents catch wind of Ne'zuk's crypt and the gauntlet that led to their untimely demise, one that Ezreal is perpetually unable to accept, he takes up their mantle. His first successful expedition takes him to Shurima, to finish what his parents could not: find the aforementioned gauntlet. Still in denial of the fates of his parents, he continues to travel to the vast corners of Runeterra, a part-time cartographer, part-time uncoverer of relics, and full-time explorer.

I have my own personal headcanon that with time, Ezreal's trips don't stay self-funded projects. The likelihood that Piltover's University utilizes his skills for commission, or even as a political means to gather information on other areas is likely very high!

Conjecture aside, the point is that every adventure he goes on is for the sole purpose of gaining notoriety, a glory large enough for his parents to recognize it and come back for him. Every artifact that he brings back to the University or sells, every new area he uncovers and writes on a map, every discovery he makes of a culture that most people from his hometown would dream of, is to impress the people that he'd learned to do this from. I touched on it before, how lackadaisical he is and how braggadocios he gets, but this helps to sell and compensate and create the image of a real prodigy. Wouldn't his parents be proud.

As such, there's never a trip he takes where he isn't looking for something. He doesn't go to Shurima because he likes the food - he goes because every step into the desert holds some tomb with something to discover. Sure, he'll love every minute that he's there, but it's a source of extreme privilege that he can go to these places, take whatever he is looking for, grab some souvenirs from a merchant, then leave back to the comfort of Piltover. He extracts a version of knowledge from the culture he's around, without ever having to deal with the struggles unique to each part of Runeterra. Furthermore, Ezreal is not always forthright with the people he meets along his travels, whoever helps him along the way to get there, to feed or house him either.

Academia has always been at best? At odds with indigenous cultures outside of fiction. At it's worst? Sheer predatory. There have been many cases of anthropologists coming to different groups, to discover their stories and traditions (while oftentimes grossly misinterpreting it), often under the guise of seeking knowledge as opposed to seeking to advance their careers. Historical c.olonization and g.enocide attempts have also left academics trying to preserve legacies that their countries have sought to destroy. Even those that laud their studies as a form of activism oftentimes create transactional relationships with the groups that they interact with, for example Franz Boas' who took multiple pieces of art and weaponry for museum curation, as collateral for his work. Who was also just incredibly weird and r.acist. It neglects to realize that there are scholars and explorers perfectly capable of doing the work to archive and study their culture their damn selves.

Will he ever realize it? No, not alone. To him, everything he does is a vacuum attempt to achieve the minimum threshold to get his parents to come home and love him again. He wouldn't call it exploitation, but what else could it possibly be? Another Ionian oral story written down to be brought back for study in a Piltover language curriculum, another Shuriman relic to be added to Lymere's museum - all the while he gets to go back to a comfy bed in the nicest part of a wealthy trade city, without worry for the context by which these stories and relics are made. Getting lauded as the one to unearth these traditions already a millennia older than he is.

Anyways!! Go support your local indigenous authors and scholars. Big fan of Dr. Rick Monture and Alicia Elliott. I'm most familiar with Haudenosaunee literature because I'm just . . . proximity wise closest to it. But most - to - every group has unique practice and culture to be preserved that have, at one point, been put in the hands of some academic who passes off these traditions as discovery.

[gaytommykinard]

but in all seriousness? i took it really fucking hard that a person i considered a friend, that i actually hang out with + made vague plans to meet up again, blocked me out of the blue without a word, on tumblr *and* whatsapp and i had no way to even reach out and say "look im sorry for whatever it is i did that upset you" (eventually i used my old blog to send an ask, even tho it feels a bit like a dick move, but for my conscience and all)

and then to learn that this person went on to block OP + other of their own friends/mutuals who reblogged that post calling out the "athena or hen are not buck's mothers" headcanons circulating in the 911 fandom because it's fucking racist

and concluding thats the reason they blocked me too - for reblogging and agreeing with OP, and for saying (in our private DMs) why i agree i.e. its not an isolated incident in fandom to make the black character(s) caretakers of the white character(s), and OP is not wrong for calling it out, and, they're not - get this - doing it "for brownie points" because im actually friends with OP and i know their character and that's not what's going on. (and while i didnt comment on this, because i didn't want it to turn into a full blown fight with my then-friend, to suggest that because OP is a white man they can't speak out on the anti-black racism in fandom? like, what?)

and then to learn that other blocked individuals are also upset/hurt by this behaviour. yeah, it was a funny moment. it's a relief. good riddance. stay in your white comfort echo chamber bubble and away from me. no hate.

i feel so much better! im not a terrible friend and evil person! yay for me. and as always, better sooner than later. good riddance.

[ellecdc]

Since we’re thinking about roommate AUs… ⛄️ with roommate!Remus and the prompt “uh, yeah- i took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. sorry.”?

these two awkjfahiarhfawg -> the winter games

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who acted in self-defence [804 words]

CW: landlords, it's very cold, fluff

Remus - though undoubtedly upset on his own behalf - was thoroughly devastated for you when he got home to find the flat nearly just as cold as it was outside. At least he got to spend his day in the warmth of the office; you were off today, and from the sniffles coming from the living room on account of your no doubt cold bitten nose, he knew you were home.

“Is this sodding radiator still not working?” He grumbled in way of hello as he hurried into the living room - coat, mitts, hat and all - to investigate. 

“No! Don’t touch it!” You shouted from the certifiable nest you’d made out of pillows and blankets from the entire flat. 

“Why not? It’s already not working; I hardly see how trying to fix it can make it any worse.”

“Yes but right now it’s the landlord's problem; if you go busting it in an attempt to fix it, we’ll be getting the bill.”

And damn the scenic yet ancient building the two of you called home, and damn your negligent landlord no doubt cosy with his own working furnace and perhaps even an operational fireplace in his warm flat, but mostly damn you for being so smart and so right and so cute. 

Remus let out a sigh and stood to face you. “Well, what have you been doing to stay warm all day then?” 

You pursed your lips as you looked around the flat. “Well, I was trying for cosy vibes with holiday movies, I lit candles mostly for ambience but there’s a part of my brain that insists the temperature rose at least one degree in response, and hot cocoa.” You finished your sentence by lifting the mug in your hand.

“I appreciate the effort, but I have a feeling that the cocoa is the only effective strategy at this point.” 

You smirked at him as you lifted the many blankets off of your lap and made to stand. “I’ll go make you one.”

You were just about to step behind the couch when Remus’ hand involuntarily shot out and grabbed you by your elbow. “Hang on.” Remus laughed accusatively. “What are you wearing?”

Remus had the feeling you were aware you’d been caught as you took a moment to consider your answer before slowly pivoting on your sock-clad feet, smiling at him bashfully. 

“Erm, yeah…I took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. Sorry.” 

But Remus didn’t release your arm and you didn’t appear to expect him to; staring him down for a beat before you deflated with a theatrical moan. “Fine. I’m layered, okay!? Is that what you wanted to hear?!” And with this, you pulled the waistband of Remus’ sweatpants that you had needed to roll numerous times away from your hips to expose another set of your own thick sweatpants underneath them. “And underneath these sweatpants are a pair of leggings. I had tried putting two pairs of my own sweatpants on, but it was too tight and the feeling of losing circulation only left me more cold so yeah, I went back into your room after already hijacking your bedding and helped myself to a pair of sweats. Okay? But any grievances will need to be taken up with my attorney, Rem, because I am cold and it was self-defence!” 

You paused abruptly then; a heat now evident in your face as you panted, and he only hoped that the heat was a welcome reprieve from the cold. 

“I’m cold.” You repeated quite pathetically, and Remus couldn’t help it anymore. He laughed. A big, deep, belly-aching laugh. 

“Oh, oh god, my poor girl.” He managed between laughs, reaching out and pulling you towards him by the shoulders; you swayed into him all too willingly, burrowing into him greedily even though he was sure his jacket was still cold with the fresh winter air. “M’so sorry you’ve been so cold.”

“You should be.” You whimpered into his chest, clearly chuffed at getting the sympathy you’d been looking for. “I’m very cold.”

“I bet.” He agreed, rubbing a few stripes up and down your back before pulling away from you; he could actually see you mourn the loss. “How about you make me some cocoa, and I’ll go change into comfies and meet you in that nest of blankets; we can pool together our resources.” The resource was warmth, but you clearly understood that when you went all but flying in the direction of the kitchen.

“Make haste, Lupin!” 

Remus wasn’t ashamed - not even a little - at the speed in which he ran to his room to change out of his work clothes and into his comfies, grabbing another one of his jumpers to throw in the dryer for you.

What? Your outfit obviously wasn’t complete without a matching jumper.

[soup-du-silence]

Impressions/favourite moments from Ch 9?

god where do i start

there's a whole essay to be written about how their dreams were just mirrors of each other because they're too fucking obsessed with each other to imagine life without each other, that Jamil keeps dream-Kalim around in his perfect world when he could have just conjured a life without him, where's he's fucked off forever, or where they never met? Explain to me WHY dream-Jamil is a horrifyingly chipper, overly-friendly parody of himself but still brainwashes Kalim instead of just pouting and saying "noooo kalim dont wake up you're so sexy we're best fwiends haha" which I can't not read as implying this is something he's fine with? has been fine with?? (we got a hint about the conditions of the manifestation of Jamil's signature spell! we've long known Kalim's been sworn to secrecy about it and he takes that promise so seriously that Jade couldn't get it out of him but like!! I still want to know the details!!)

That they had the most ridiculous shonen jump little boy slapfight because they're both SO stunted and they've been together forever but they never got to be normal-ass kids about it and they finally got to air their grievances with each other because they're trapped in a dreamscape where there's no repercussions to finally just throwing hands and calling each other names? That when push comes to shove Jamil still instinctually puts himself in danger and pushes Kalim to safety?

there's an essay to be written but I'm simply too yaoi poisoned to be the one to do it, I'm sorry. My only note is that I think the fight should have devolved into sloppy makeouts.

[pathologicalreid]

angst masterlist

main masterlist

note: italicized titles denote requests; asterisks (*) mark all retired!reader fics; plus signs (+) mark hurt/comfort.

buried alive (2), (3): in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

the archer: in which a trip to your hometown leads an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay

brilliance: in which reader goes into labor after a fight and spencer is nowhere to be found

a father's daughter: in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

*stuck between a rock and a hard place: you, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.

*the space between us: the adjustment between never being home and always being home starts to take a toll on you

*this is the job: you and Spencer (almost) get into a fight about the demands of your job.

sense memory: after eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.

no sign of danger: when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased

next of kin (2):disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

perennial: unrequited love brings spencer to his death bed, unless you can rescue him

work song: no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

can you come get me? when you manage to escape your captor, and your first call is to spencer

epiphany: a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany

+resilient: in which your boyfriend lends you and hand when your own are working against you

+dazed days: your job at the FBI is hard, but life with spencer is easy

+your needs, my needs: washing spencer's hair after his attempts to save a life go awry

+don't lose your head: a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

+the ninth step: spencer starts to make amends after mexico - and he's starting with you

+don't look in the mirror: in which spencer helps you when you're using sex as a poor coping mechanism

leave a message after the beep: when you go missing on a business trip in texas, the bau travels to investigate, but the situation might be more than they anticipated.

for the fear of falling apart: following her gunpoint confession, your sister pressure you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

+and now i have to act like i can't read your mind: your sobriety is broken by an old 'friend', and spencer's there to help you navigate a new reality

extraordinary measures: in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Vox Machina reacting to gn crush telling him/her that they had been told by their crushes that they're not good-looking and interesting please?

Vax thinks that’s an utter bollocks statement to make, especially since it was coming from someone you had feelings towards.

This absolute sweetheart would sit by you under a blanket of stars and keep you company until he thought you were ready to get back on your feet and show the fucker what they were missing out on.

‘They speak the universal language of bullshit.’ He’d say, which made you laugh in how he worded it. ‘I’m being serious! They don’t fucking know what they’ve missed out on, so don’t be too sad because they knew you were out of their reach and didn’t want to admit it out of their own pride.’ He adds as he allowed you to toy with his dagger

‘Still hurts though.’ You murmured as you tossed the dagger into the air and catching it by the handle as it comes down again. Vax frowns before nudging you in the side playfully.

‘Hey, it may suck now but sooner or later we’re going to look back on this and laugh at how much of a loser they were and how much better off you were without them to tie you down.’ He says and you look at him deeply before smiling. ‘Yeah they were a bit bland featured to be honest.’ You shyly admitted as vax laughed.

‘They’re bland as fuck and you are not, they’re a cunt and your far better then to let that twat have any ounce of power over you in any aspect, oh we can go see if I can pickpocket the bastard for everything their worth? Would that cheer you up?’ Vax asked as you mulled over the idea in your head, but it didn’t take long for you to want to see chaos ensue and you were quick to agree.

You and vax then ran off into the night like two giggling idiots, feeling a thousand times better then you were before.

Vex

‘Oh sweetheart that isn’t true, far from it.’ She’d say as she holds your face, wiping away your tears from your cheeks.

‘Then why would they say it.’ You said as you looked to her for answers within her eyes and Vex couldn’t help but feel her heart crack for you.

‘They’re not worth your tears, none at all if this is how they’re going to make you feel all the time.’ Vex told you as her bear companion huffed and cuddled into your side, sensing your sadness and distress and you were quick to run your hand through their fur in silent thanks.

‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected so much from them to begin with. After all nothing is set in stone.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But it still hurts regardless.’

‘And it will my dear, it will hurt but sometimes it can motivate us into going the path we were meant to all along.’ Vex replied as watched you and trinket interact with hope in her heart that you’ll be okay, that you’ll be alright in due time.

‘Thanks vex, I really needed to hear that today.’ You tell her, only for trinket to huff as you laugh and ruffle their fur, ‘and yes thank you too trinket, thank you for the emotional support.’

Trinket huffed again but this time in triumph.

Percy wouldn’t know how to comfort you at first but would find it easier to just let you air out your grievances instead.

‘They said I’m bland and unappealing! Only to then call me childish when I showed that I wasn’t happy being called such, claiming I can’t handle the truth.’ You groaned as you fell in to the empty chair that awaited you. ‘What a fucking joke.’ You murmured.

‘What they said is uncalled for and rude on all accounts,’ Percy said calmly, ‘they claim it’s true but from the stories you’ve told me about them, they’re the most boring and unpleasant person to ever engage in a conversation with without feeling the need to bring up your topic of the weather.’ He adds and you snorted at his sarcastic tone.

‘Yeah, they do tend to find the most boring things and talk about them for hours, how I thought that was attractive I’ll never know, blinded I guess.’ You shrugged as you both began to shit talk about your former crush and nitpick at their every aspect with scrutinising detail.

‘They cannot tie a cravat properly to save his life.’ Percy quipped.

‘They avoid taverns because they don’t like the liveliness of them, nor the rowdiness.’ You add.

Percy scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Pretentious prick.’

You jolted forward in your seat towards him as though you were going to tell him a secret. ‘He’s not even from a well known enough family for that Percy’s they just wanna act like they are.’ You swore you saw Percy smile before he hid it behind his hand.

‘How embarrassing.’ He mumbles.

‘I know right?!’ You exclaimed as throughout the night you and Percy spend most of it together and shit talking the rejection away.

Keyleth would immediately try to disprove this by taking you out to her garden and showing you all the flowers.

‘Why am I here keyleth? To show how unappealing I am in comparison to pretty flowers?’ You asked.

‘No! I brought you here to show that every flower within my garden is no less loved than the other, all of them are watered and properly cared for regardless of how they look or what they smell like.’ Keyleth replied as she made you look at the daises, lavenders, chrysanthemums, water lilies, thistle, roses, Lilly of the valley and many more as thought they were a kaleidoscope of beauty in all its forms.

‘They are indeed all beautiful in their own unique way.’ You mumbled as you brushed one of the petals of a rose. Keyleth smiled as she put her hands on your shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

‘All flowers are loved by someone and you will find someone who will love you just as much as a Gardner loves their flowers.’ She reassured you in a sweet yet calming voice. ‘For you are worthy of love just like these flowers and you’ll find them, it just takes a little time and patience to happen. So hold on tight because someone is out there looking for the prettiest flower; you.’ She finished and you smiled back at her, resting your hands on top of hers, feeling reassured.

‘Thanks keyleth, I really needed it.’ You replied.

Grog

‘Well they’re stupid.’ He’d say in response.

‘but what if they’re right?’ You asked, defeated. ‘What if I am boring and unappealing?’

Grog huffs. ‘Bullshit. You’re far from either boring or unappealing, they’re just weak shit and cowardly because they know they can’t handle someone like you.’

You’d lean into his side and smiling softly. ‘Thanks for cheering me up Grog, I really needed it.’

‘No problem buddy.’ He smiles as he pats your head as a moment of silence passed between you two. ‘So…do you wanna fuck up some bad guys to relive the stress?’ He then asks and you smiled at him.

‘You don’t even have to ask.’ You tell him as you both set off to kick some ass.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Piper?”

“Here.”

“Damien?”

“Here.”

“Clovis?”

No answer. Nico reaches over and pokes him, hard, and the son of Hypnos startles awake long enough to manage a garbled, “Present!” before nodding off again. At Chiron’s nodded permission, Connor procures an airhorn from what appears to be thin air, grins, and blares it right next to Clovis’ face. He shrieks, flailing off the chair, and would have slammed his face in the ground if Nico hadn’t caught him by the back of the shirt.

“Thanks, man,” he says, yawning.

Nico hauls him back upright, patting him on the shoulder. “No problem. I’m gonna let you fall next time.”

Clovis eyes him warily, shifting at Nico’s too-wide, sharklike grin.

“Noted,” he mutters, sitting straight to try and stay awake. “Jerk.”

Nico pats him on the shoulder again. “There, there.”

Chiron continues with the attendance.

“Butch?”

“Here.”

“Miranda?”

“Yep.”

“And…” Chiron sighs, peering through his reading glasses. “Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…” He glances down at his clipboard, slowly tapping his pen on the edge of it. “Where is Will?”

A groan ripples through the gathered campers.

“Just start without him!” someone shouts, sinking into their chair.

“He always takes forever!” another person agrees.

“Almost like he’s busy running the infirmary that keeps us all alive,” Lou Ellen says drily, but her one vote of confidence is drowned out by several dozen other voices, all complaining.

Before Chiron has to deal with too much of a coup d’état, the rec room door creaks open, and Will comes strolling in after it, ignoring the heaps of boos and launched ping-pong balls at his tardiness. The beam of sunlight from the one dusty window seems, suddenly, to become a great deal stronger, highlighting the blonde of Will’s hair and strengthening the gleam of his easy grin.

“Perforated artery,” he explains cheerfully, settling down in the one empty chair. “Rogue Ares cabin mine went off. Had to do emergency surgery.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth does he kick off his flip-flops, curl up in the rickety wooden chair, place his head on the nearest shoulder — Pollux, this time, who rolls his eyes affectionately and shifts to be more comfortable — and immediately starts snoring.

“Well,” says Chiron after a moment. “Let’s begin.”

“Wait,” Clovis complains, “how come he gets to sleep?”

Instead of answering, because there is no delicate way to say because he’s my favourite and I am a giant hypocrite, the centaur moves on. He gracefully avoids the various mutterings and calls for mutiny, instead running through the usual cabin check-ins at the speed of light to delve into the more interesting — and therefore distracting — things, such as Personal Grievances. This portion of monthly head counsellor meetings is Nico’s favourite, because he gets to sit back, be silent, and watch a bunch of teenagers yell at each other for his own personal amusement. On especially great days, he communicates with Connor through a series of complicated hand gestures to coordinate betting pools. Today, he is up seventy-two dollars. (Did he throw the pool by betting against himself and then inventing a fight with Chiara? Yeah. Did he cut her a deal for halfsies beforehand, making this technically fraud on two counts? Yeah. Can anyone prove it? Absolutely not. Suck on that, Stoll. You wanna be beat at your own game any day of the week? Nico’ll beat you at your own game any day of the week.)

As he’s accepting three dollars from a huffy Nysa (obviously the physical altercation count was going to reach six, c’mon, doesn’t she pay attention to these things), a hoof stamping the ground makes Nico jump.

“Boys,” Chiron says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that’s quite enough.”

Both campers immediately burst into louder arguments, continuing to flail and smack at each other as their voices get more and more raised and illegible.

“Boys!” Chiron stamps his hoof again. This time, they fall silent, staring at the old centaur with flushed, guilty faces. “Sherman, get Malcom out of that headlock. Malcolm, we are not building a pig pen in the dining pavilion so the Ares cabin can ‘eat in an environment more suited to their mannerisms’.” He pauses, nodding in acknowledgement. “As funny as that was, it was entirely inappropriate to say. Apologise at once.”

“My throat is too bruised to do so,” Malcom grumbles.

“My throat is too bruised to do so,” Sherman repeats, mockingly. “Gods, it’s like you’re asking for me to jump you.” At the immediate catcalls and jeers that follow, he reddens, hastily shouting, “Like mug! Jump like mug him, guys, like beat him up! Shut up! Shut up, or I swear I’ll —”

“Sit down, boys,” Chiron says, banging his hoof again. “For Hera’s sake. It’s like you want to embarrass yourselves further.”

Nico snickers with the rest of the counsellors as Sherman and Malcolm return to their seats. In their desperate attempt to separate from each other to assure their status as Heterosexual, Guys, Please, they manage to bump into each other, losing their balance and collapsing on a heap on the floor, more tangled than before. Predictably, this makes the flailing worse, which is unfortunate for them and their misery but a source of great entertainment for everyone else. Among the hooting and hollering and camera flashes, Chiron sighs, putting his head in his hands and muttering something about teenagers and being too old for this shit. Or something.

“If everyone’s quite done,” he says finally, ignoring Connor’s quip about how he could watch a few more minutes, actually, “I would love for this meeting to end. I have to do something that doesn’t involve teenagers for several hours. All of you exhaust me.”

“Except Will,” Sherman says petulantly, scowling at the still-sleeping medic. Pollux, who by close proximity has become endeared to the human disaster (Nico knows the feeling; he’s still convinced Will has weird powers that mess with one’s oxytocin levels by virtue of smiling as there is no way that someone so annoying can be so simultaneously endearing), glares somewhat protectively.

“Sh,” he hisses, at the same time Chiron says, “If the rest of you spent less time trying to kill each other and more time trying to fix the consequences of said attempted murder, I would be more lenient.”

Lou Ellen speaks up. “Also, Will has that whole cute, can’t-stay-mad-at-me thing.”

Various campers nod and mutter in agreement.

(Nico knew he wasn’t the only one.)

Nyssa clears her throat. “If we’re ready to return back to the actual meeting, I have a point of discussion.”

Chiron nods, gesturing for her to continue.

“The vans are breaking down,” she says bluntly. “Again. Because they’re, you know, older than everyone in the room.” She glances at Nico, frowning. “Well, except for him.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “Youngin’s, these days,” he says, shaking his head disdainfully. “No respect for their elders.”

Chiron raises a bemused eyebrow. “…Indeed. Nyssa?”

“I need parts again. Preferably from that place in Virginia? They don’t ask questions and price fairly. That would be best. Only I need the van to go get the parts, so. You can see the conundrum I’m in.”

“Easy fix with the chariot,” Chiron decides. “Can someone wake Will?”

“Gladly.”

“Without the airhorn, Connor.”

“Aw. I’m not doing it, then.”

“How tragic. Pollux?”

Gently, the son of Dionysus taps Will’s cheek, shaking him until he blinks awake.

“I was totally paying attention and I think we should go with the second option,” he says, yawning.

“Not asking you to settle a debate, but nice try,” Pollux says.

“Well, shit. That one usually works.” He flicks still-tired eyes around the room, smiling when his gaze rests on Nico. Nico rolls his eyes, willing down the heat to his cheeks. Judging by the teasing edge Will’s grin takes, it does not work. “Whattaya need, then?

“The chariot,” Nyssa says. “Vans are breaking down again. I need a part from a shop in Roanoke.”

Will straightens. “Like, now?”

“In the next day or so, yeah.”

“There’s a strawberry delivery on Saturday,” Miranda pipes up. “So sooner rather than later.”

Will nods. “Yeah, that works. Hell, I can probably be back by —” he checks his watch �� “late tonight, honestly. Just gimme the part number and —”

“I kind of meant that I could go,” Nyssa interrupts, looking at him strangely. “I know what the part looks like. I just need to borrow the chariot.”

Will presses his clasped hands to his face, inhaling deeply.

“I would absolutely love to lend you the chariot blessed by my father who has gone totally silent,” he begins, in a tone that makes Nico think that he would not, actually, absolutely love to lend out the chariot blessed by his father who has gone totally silent, “only that the last time I lent someone this super important chariot it came back in pieces.”

“I remember.” Nyssa levels him with a look. “I fixed it.”

“Exactly! So you appreciate how much I would like it to not be broken. In fact —”

“Alright,” Chiron interrupts, holding up a hand. “You’ve made your point, Will, the errand is yours. Choose a buddy to lower the chances of you dying and check in before you leave.”

Predictably, this choice is not well-recieved. Because why would things be easy?

“Totally not fair,” Sherman protests, the loudest of all complainers. “Will’s no less likely to break it just because his cabin thinks they own it —”

“Finish that thought and I will curse you in twelve different ways for the next eight months, Sherman.”

The Ares counsellor snaps his mouth shut, sensing the new, hardened edge in Will’s voice. “Noted.”

“He’s got a point, though,” Damien hedges. At Will’s glare — boy, is that chariot a sensitive topic, Nico is noticing — he holds his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “We draw straws for small errand-quests, Will, you know that. It’s not fair that you just get to call dibs.”

Will takes a long, slow breath, fingers pressed to his temples. When he looks back up, his expression is flatter than the entirety of the Midwest, jaw set and eyebrow raised. He narrows his eyes, contemplating, then clearly comes to a decision, nodding to himself. Everyone watches with bated breath as he climbs up to stand on his chair, folds his hands together, clears his throat, and says, voice carefully controlled, “Who can guess how many surgeries I’ve done in the last week?”

For a long moment it’s so silent that Nico can hear every rustled shirt as people fidget, every aborted cough and uncomfortable swallow. Will’s eyes are piercing, and he takes the time to stare at every individual counsellor until they meet his eyes, squirming, and look immediately away.

Nico’s impressed. Sometimes he forgets how godsdamn rigid Will’s backbone is.

Finally, someone offers a guess.

“One?”

“Try four,” Will corrects, smile more like a bare of teeth. “I have not had a circadian rhythm since I was thirteen years old. I sleep when I can. And yet, somehow, you clumsy fucks manage to near kill yourself at the exact moment my subconscious even considers approaching REM sleep, every single time, and then I get to spend my next several hours piecing your sorry ass back together by hand, since hymns barely work right now. If I have to see another surgical pin I am going to stab it through someone’s eye. Am I making a point?”

No one answers.

“‘Cause I can make it clearer,” Will drawls.

“No need,” Chiron says hastily. “The quest remains yours, so long as there are no further objections.”

Wisely, no one speaks up.

“Perfect. Nyssa, if you’ll stay behind with me to iron out some details, everyone else — dismissed.”

The tense air immediately evaporates as people practically spring out of their seats, sprinting for the door. Nico is among the last to leave, having to stay and stop several fleeing demigods to collect his wares. On his way out, a heavy arm slings over his shoulders, and he’s suddenly enveloped by the intoxicating scent of lavender body wash and pure sunshine.

“Get off me, Solace,” he complains immediately, coming up to wrap his hand around Will’s forearm in the guise of shoving him off. Will is entirely unfazed, holding him tighter.

“But I have a proposal.”

“Take it elsewhere.” He ducks out of Will’s hold and sweeps his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling with an oof. Unfortunately, he doesn’t look any less sunny and smiley from the ground, somehow making it work for him, actually. He settles against the soft grass, sighing, hair fanning out like a golden halo. He pats the spot next to him, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in the late morning sun, and Nico swallows roughly, joining him.

“You wanna come with me to Roanoke?”

“Yes,” Nico says automatically. Will grins, and he flushes. “I mean, I guess if I have to. Loser.”

“Ever so grateful, Neeks.”

“You should be.”

He keeps his voice prim and superior, attempting to uphold his image, and since he is delusional he convinces himself he’s successful. Will, though, is entirely undeterred, lazy smile still on his face and arms stretched above his head, the picture of unbothered. A sliver of skin shows where the hem of his shirt rises and Nico ignores it. He doesn’t even glance at it, or the glint of Will’s belly-button piercing, at all. Nor is he aware of Will’s shorts riding up, or the curve of his calves as he crosses his legs. All of these things go unnoticed. Obviously.

“I have a proposal for you, if you’re done checking me out.”

Nico shoves his flaming face in his knees. “Did you know that in all the corners of the Earth I have been to, I’ve only encountered three things uglier than you?”

Will’s grin only gets wider. His eyes, even, start to get squinty as the force of his smile squishes his cheeks. Entirely unsubtly, because Will is the least subtle person alive, he reaches out and sends a wave of calming energy into Nico’s body, slowing his rapid heart rate.

“…Right.”

“Three things, Solace.”

“Of course, of course.” He removes his hand, graciously allowing Nico the space to breathe and remind his lungs that their job is not voluntary. “I’ll come pick you up in a half hour? Wear a jacket.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Nico pauses. “Yes.”

“Stellar.”

“God, you say such nerdy things unironically. How do you have friends?”

“I dunno.” He gets to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass from his shorts. “You tell me.” He leans down and presses a smacking kiss to Nico’s hair. Nico presses his fingers into his eyeballs until they hurt, screaming silently into his palms.

He waits until the smacking sounds of Will’s stupid flip-flops retreat before braving the world outside his little ball of misery, squinting at his retreating form.

“I think I should get a lobotomy,” he says out loud to himself, because, realistically, if his braincells are already spilling out of his ears like loose quarters every time Solace so much as smiles at him then there’s not much to lose, is there? and stomps off to his own cabin.

Out of spite, he chooses the New York Giants jacket he got from Percy, just because he knows Will hates it.

That’ll show him who’s bossing who around.

Totally.

———

next

[halfvalid]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you. 

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal. 

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew. 

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. 

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom. 

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement. 

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?” 

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?” 

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!” 

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.” 

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.” 

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market. 

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?” 

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.” 

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.” 

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.” 

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth. 

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked. 

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.” 

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade. 

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.” 

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—” 

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.” 

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back. 

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.” 

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look. 

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?” 

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes. 

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!” 

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back. 

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t just—” 

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him. 

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position. 

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store. 

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face. 

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—” 

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart. 

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.” 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think. 

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this. 

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe. 

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat. 

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” 

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?” 

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.” 

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would. 

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point. 

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with. 

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more. 

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development. 

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.” 

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him. 

“I am not.” 

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.” 

“Leave me alone,” you muttered. 

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.” 

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?” 

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.” 

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed. 

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.” 

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.” 

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?” 

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.” 

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.” 

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered. 

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue. 

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit. 

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured. 

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered. 

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth. 

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back. 

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation. 

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?” 

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.” 

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours. 

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.” 

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember. 

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties. 

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered. 

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?” 

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.” 

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length. 

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point. 

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss. 

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge. 

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite. 

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him. 

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning. 

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side. 

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.” 

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it. 

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage. 

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.” 

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that. 

© halfvalid 2023

[thehigherseekerastro]

Astrology Observations: Non-chart Edition 💻

This is just a quick post, a short list of astrology opinions – my own –, about the world of astrology online itself, not the actual placements described, but that I think are worth noting to help better analyze and understand the astrology content found on the internet. Enjoy!

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Beware of "roasting placements" posts –

regardless if it's on Tumblr, X or TikTok. Those are VERY broad "descriptions" (if we can call it that). Anybody who understands how astrology works would never generalize to such a level that they think they can roast an entire placement, as if there was only one possible manifestation for that placement. There's an entire chart that is very unique to everyone. Your (and other people's) chart can be set up in a way that makes you behave the complete opposite of that stereotype, so people can't just be accusing others of things without knowing them lol.

Not to mention that they are usually plain rude and ignorant for no reason, just to be spiteful.

Astrology is not "Projection Land" –

so don't use it to, nor fall for someone else doing it. It's nobody's excuse to trash their ex, their mother, the friend they had a falling-out with, through you, making you feel horrible about yourself, just because they are projecting their own feelings onto a particular placement.

So, yes, there are patterns to signs, placements and even elements, but that needs to be handled with a lot of responsibility. It needs careful analysis, and the person needs to be able to separate their personal grievances from the actual information before they vomit their disdain on the internet where anyone can see. I always make sure to include a blend of positive and negative POSSIBLE manifestations of placements, and I make that clear, so that people know it's a MAYBE, and also not about everyone. It's not to insult others, more so to inform them of what you should be aware of IN CASE THEY ENCOUNTER IT.

So the people who are like "X-Y-Z placements are TRASH!!!! I dated so and so and it went horribly blah blah blah"...

Keep on scrolling. Move along. They're bitter and they're either trying to make you feel horrible too or antagonize you against someone else. Remember: misery loves company.

Don't use astrology to save face either –

so don't be hyping up your own toxic trait that is in fact present to excuse yourself.

"Oh, Tauruses are stubborn," (stereotype) "but that's because they are consistent and see things through."

NO, BABY. Tauruses are consistent AND they can be annoying as hell with their stubbornness and acting a fool, but still refusing to act right. The two things can coexist.

If you happen to manifest one of the more challenging stereotypes of a placement, it's not there for nothing. It's a lesson for you to work on and heal as soon as you're made aware of it. So don't be using astrology to justify staying in your troublesome habits just because there might be a quality attached to it. That's not maturing and growing. Growing is realizing all things work in balance, and there's downsides and potential to most things. So hone the positive aspects of that placement, but continue to try to heal the challenging ones.

Avoid astrology content creators who use their blog/profile as their little Burn Book –

just attacking people and placements right and left. "This sign is manipulative!", "that planet in such house is a jealous and bitter person!", "females with such rising are fake!".

They don't know shit. They just want to air out their anger. If you absorb it, that's on you. So, if you notice somebody only has negative things to say all the time and never praises anybody... RED FLAG.

And yes, I'm also talking about the people who exclusively make content like "How will your relationship end based on your 12H in Composite", "Synastry aspects that indicate you will be cheated on", "Signs of a narcissist in a birth chart", and just overall fear-mongering and negativity.

Avoid astrology content creators who use their blog/profile as a space to boast and compliment themselves –

because it also happens often, and it's usually a combo with the previous one I mentioned above. They shit on everyone else, but the placements they love and praise are ~ coincidentally ~ their own.

If you see a take that starts with defending or praising a placement a lot and it is followed by "because we are...", I'd immediately log off.

It's one thing to speak from experience and empathize. It's another to be like "Virgos aren't judgemental, because I'm a Virgo and I'm the best person on the planet, you're the problem if we don't like you!"

Again, people who cannot be self aware should not be sharing advice or opinions on other people. They're attention seekers. And surprisingly, it's often NOT the people with Leo placements.

CAUTION WITH THIS ONE, as I'm making a broad observation that is not describing everyone, just a pattern I see often, but my perspective could be limited here –

like I said, from most problematic posts I've seen, and I've seen quite a few, it's not from people with the stereotypical "egotistic and self obsessed" signs, like Leo, or even other fire signs.

I've seen it most often happen with people over-praising their personal EARTH placements, and then attacking everyone else.

Which to me makes sense, because when an Earth placement is great, they're GREAT! But when they're not... Good luck convincing them that they are just a human being and aren't better than everybody else and always right. You'd have to be constantly hammering the cold harsh reality on their face 24/7 to keep them humble. (A job only fire sign placements are up to, bc they don't give a shit if you're offended, and don't get tired of having to fight to death).

Earth signs being preceded by fire signs means their need for validation and praise is often hidden from plain sight, but it's deep within them. And being opposed by water signs can mean falling into delusions of how they actually impact the outside world, often overestimating their value.

So if you mix that with the Earth practicality and pragmatism, it becomes very hard for them to see that they will not feel more in control if they criticize everyone else around. It's them judging themselves, but not knowing how to deal with that self-hatred, so they project it onto others. Just because one got a lot to say doesn't mean they should, nor that what they have to say is correct. People CAN be loud and wrong, and these types of folks over here on these posts often are.

The top 5 most judgemental and lacking self-awareness I've seen here on Tumblr are:

Virgo

Capricorn

Aquarius

Sagittarius

Taurus

Apply it to (rising, sun, moon, Mercury and Mars).

PS: This is very specific within the context of astrology content creators. I'm not saying all of the people from those signs and element are like that, or attacking them personally.

Women are not perfect. Men are not inherently bad –

so also be cautious of people who trash any type of men, regardless of their sign, planet or houses, but claim only the women of that sign are good.

Yes, we know that, systemically, our society is patriarcal and men's toxic behaviors tend to be encouraged, so it's not uncommon to run into issues with masculinity. Regardless of that, men are human beings. And so are women. Everyone has potential for good and bad inside them.

"Cancers - all the men are cheaters and manipulators! But the women are the sweetest people you will ever meet!"

No. Cancer when it's expressed in its most toxic side is highly manipulative and fake. Which is historically a "skill" used by women to survive in this world. So if you run into a "good Cancer man", he will be a light in your life. If you run into a "bad Cancer woman", that'll be even worse, because she will be a horrible person, all the while projecting an image of innocence and acting like she has no idea what you're talking about and is just a sweet victim.

(just look at Ariana Grande, for example, and her history of cheating on her partners with other men who were ALSO in committed relationships at the time, ever since she was 21, but she always tells her stories as if she's the one getting unfairly bullied and that people are making stuff up about her.

I'm not making personal judgements about her, because I don't know her personally. I'm just using her as an example of the same cheater-manipulator dynamic people attribute to all Cancer men, applied to a Cancer woman).

Use your critical thinking skills. Again, that's a projection. Specially if someone goes as far as making an extreme comment like "ALL MEN of the zodiac are trash"... That's clearly a lot of bitterness, hurt, and bad PERSONAL experiences, that they are now vomiting onto the internet.

Men and women are equally beautiful creatures, each dealing with their own sets of potential and challenges. Astrology doesn't pick and choose, and certainly does not care about hookup culture or the dissolution of human relationships in the 21st century.

Just because someone is talking about spiritual practices does not mean they are evolved –

anybody can talk about anything. That means nothing. Does not mean evolution. Does not mean maturity. Does not mean understanding. Does not mean knowledge. Does not mean awareness.

So don't think that just because someone has an astrology blog or they say they're an astrologer that means they are some evolved soul, wise beyond their years and with only good intentions. Oftentimes, people will obsess over analysing others to avoid taking a long hard look at themselves.

As I've given many examples here, many people can be using astrology to live out the most childish and troubled parts of their personalities and character. And instead of identifying those challenges in their chart – since they claim to be such fans of astrology – and working on them, they prefer to hop online and start pointing fingers at other people and their lives.

Now, let's also exercise our own empathy here and understand that sometimes those people themselves don't even realize their struggle. They're a human, after all. So it's up to you to curate what you consume and how you consume it. Don't discredit people's experience, but also, do a background check on the info before you internalize it, because a lot of the times people will be hurting you without realizing they're just looking for company in their sadness. They'll convince themselves they're helping.

Be conscious in YOUR OWN spiritual journey and learning. Know who YOU are. And then other people become helpers along your path, not the commanders of your destiny.

That is it, my dears. I hope this was clear to understand and it was helpful. Hopefully, it will aid in your understanding of things when you come across astrology posts online, leaving you less confused as to what is and isn't pertinent. And I hope it sends you on a path towards good and love.

Be well! ❤️

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