#sour-snail
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audhdgoku · 2 months ago
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PLEASE Look @ This Wonderful Gorua Gift From @sour-snail !! I LOVE GORUA SOSOSSO MUCH THIS IS LITERALLY ME!!!!
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redscorpiocat · 11 months ago
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Random facts about my characters that you may or may not know since we got this far
Mr. Feral got his name after being ferocious since birth
Sweet Pea's halo can be used as a magic hulahoop or a circus ring
Mrs. Migraine celebrates her parties in the catacombs with the dead and the lords of the dead
Mrs. Rebrand and Mrs. Migraine are sisters
Lanna's mother is a fashion designer and her father is a photographer and a story writer
Sweet Pea's waist is slightly cinched
Carlos can change color on what background he chooses to blend in like a real chameleon
Darby is obsessed with early to mid 2000's Hot Topic stuff
Lanna has designed her own outfits with the help of her mother's inspirational artwork
Sir Plasma is inspired by the rainbow light prism, hence the rainbow colored body
Sweet Pea speaks a bit of Japanese whenever he needs to
Lanna sings Latin whenever she needs to
Mr. Feral can be a sweetheart at times despite his name, which was based on his looks and not his attitude towards the innocent folks
Mrs. Migraine used to be a princess that used to suffer from migraines, hence the name she got in the afterlife
Mrs. Rebrand's favorite song is anything made by May Roosevelt and was actually inspired by the songs
Mr. Feral can rap whenever he wants
Sweet Pea's snap mode can act like a pterodactyl if hungry
E.H is part cartoon and can break fourth walls a lot of needed for comical moments
Outsmarter! C.M can shape shift into an entirely different being and take any form as desired. Examples: A cat, a man, a woman, a tree, an oversized green Phoenix bird, even a person he knows and can take their place to make it better if their friends, or worse if their enemies
Outsmater! Eteled is an 8 foot walking stereo
The name for Poki the Pilk-ling was inspired by Rachel and Jun's cat named "Poki (They're cats are adorable >w<💝)
Spicy Sherbet (Feral and Lanna fusion) eats anything spicy, including the reaper pepper
Angel amethyst (Lanna and Sweet Pea fusion) can sing a heavenly voice if needed
Feral Pea (Feral and Sweet Pea fusion) Has durable and non-toxic ecto-wings
Tammy hangs out with other snails, including slugs and all
Carlos can swing on trees, attack/defend himself, or just hang around with his strong-ass tongue
Sullivan's favorite food is sushi, despite not having teeth, but has a bigger stomach like his mother (That I'll introduce later in the future)
Sour Puss is one charismatic bastard (Of an angle boyo)
Psychosis barks when he's in his straight jacket, but can turn sicko mode when he doesn't have his straight jacket on
Shaniqua listens to Michael Jackson a lot
Zachie and Darby have a relationship, just wasn't introduced yet (But will be ;3c)
Manipulator-chan can crawl on walls
Darby is into early to late 2000s trends and all
Bridgette likes being called a geek, because it makes her feel boosted with energy
Manipulator-chan's real name is Julietta
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More facts coming sooooon :3
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homahowi · 2 years ago
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It’s almost Splatfest time, good luck to everyone playing!
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galamalion · 11 months ago
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୨୧. 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄
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summary. luffy's relationship with hancock begins to strike a deep nerve within you.
⤷ contents. monkey d. luffy x gn!reader, fluff + angst, boa hancock is rude, jealous!reader, light angst (resolved by the end), slight miscommunication // wc. 2.1k
⤷ notes. request by @amortentiaz for a jealous!reader over luffy's relationship with boa hancock. i think i got a little too invested in writing reader's anger, maybe i should write some more angst... i hope you enjoy! <3
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Your boyfriend wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
Was he caring? Of course, he cuddled and hugged and kissed you near constantly. Was he attentive? Easily, he always wanted to snuggle with you, no matter your location—even if it led to some unfortunate circumstances.
But he may just be the most scatterbrained boyfriend anyone could ask for, and your current situation was perhaps the best example of his obliviousness.
"Ah, Luffy! I have more food if you want it!"
"Really?! Thank you, Hancock!"
You and Luffy had gotten pulled off your ship by a terrible storm, only a small makeshift raft of wood to keep you afloat. A miracle had led you to land on Amazon Lily, an island led by a woman with a fixation for Luffy.
And so here you were, stuck watching the most beautiful woman in the world drape herself over your boyfriend like they'd been married for the last thirty years. Sure, your boyfriend was the greatest catch in the East Blue, but he was your boyfriend. Not Hancock's 'sweetie pie honey bun super-special pirate king.'
You had just finished talking with Jimbei through the snail transponder, who informed you that the ship would be there tomorrow in the morning. Unfortunately, that meant you would have to stay here.
"Alright, Luffy," you sighed, "The Thousand Sunny will be here in the morning, which means that we're stuck here for tonight."
"There's a room prepared for you in the palace if you need it, Luffy! I can have whatever you need brought there," Hancock swooned, feeding Luffy a drumstick.
"Ooh! Hey, is there anything you need, ____?" Luffy turned to ask, voice muffled by all the meat stuffed inside his mouth.
You looked behind Luffy to meet eyes with Hancock, watching her expression sour at the mention of your name.
"I think I'm fine. Thanks, Luf," you muttered, crossing your arms.
"Ok, but Hancock can bring us anything, so if you change your mind you can ask her!" he grinned, taking another large bite of the drumstick.
You sighed, briefly meeting eyes with Hancock who silently scoffed at your presence. Angrily, you stomped out of the palace and out of the town, going far, far away from the oh-so benevolent queen of the island.
As you walked into the expansive forest of the island, you began kicking a rock with each step, muttering under your breath.
"Oh Luffy, here's some yummy food!" you kicked the rock. "Oh Luffy, what dress do you think I should wear?" you kicked the rock. "Oh Luffy, you should break up and we should get married and have a bunch of tiny beautiful babies!"
You kicked the rock off the path, watching it roll off into underbrush and onto the grass floor of the forest.
"Go on then," you grumbled, "go get married to the prettiest girl in the world! then you can really be King of the Pirates..."
As you walked further into the tropical forest of the island, you came upon a rocky cliff, a beautiful location covered in small plants and light foliage. Rocks jutting out harshly in every which way, moss growing upon it, unbothered and untouched.
This is just what you need.
You stepped up to the edge of the cliff and gazed at the forest below, wild and vibrant green hues filling up every space you looked at. The sky was similar, a brilliant cloudless blue, like a calm blue sea without a boat in sight. You could stare at this serene scene for all of eternity, if only time allowed.
Sighing wistfully, you closed your eyes and stretched your body, taking a deep breath.
And then, you screamed.
You screamed at nothing and everything, all at once. At Hancock and Luffy, together, singularly, at their actions, at their attitudes. You shrieked at Hancock's cruel expressions, her blatant disregard for your own feelings. You screeched at Luffy's oblivious disposition, his inability to realize how you felt about all of this. You screamed until your throat burned, until you could feel your eyes welling up with tears and your screams turned into sobs turned into silent crying.
Needless to say, it was a much needed catharsis.
You calmed yourself down and walked back to the bustling city, taking in the nature surrounding you. As you continued walking, a long, rubbery leg touched down onto the forest path. The leg was attached to your boyfriend, who jumped down from the trees with a bewildered and frightened expression on his face.
"Are you okay ____?!" I heard—"
"I'm fine," you snapped, brushing past him.
Luffy gave you a confused look as you walked towards the village, on your way to check out the room in the palace Hancock so graciously gave you.
It was placed right next door to Hancock's own chambers, no doubt because she wanted to keep Luffy close, but the interior was far more shocking. Instead of a giant king sized bed in the middle, two beds—one far bigger than the other—with a great deal of space separating them were inside. It was almost too obvious to tell which bed was Luffy's, given the amount of food and gift baskets surrounding it.
You were just shocked that she put you in Luffy in the same room.
Deciding it wasn't worth complaining about, you instead searched around the castle in search of a library, a place Luffy would never look for you.
It wasn't that you were mad at him. No, it would be more accurate to say that you were furious. But you knew deep inside your mind that it wasn't his fault. But you also knew that if you saw him again, you would blow up, explode, in his face.
You stayed in the library until midnight, reading fairy tales and historical texts, immersing yourself in the stories and history these books contained. You could feel the anger and jealousy in your veins dwindle with each page you read.
Once you had returned your amassed collection of books back to their shelves, you made your way back to your room. Expectations were low, you were fairly certain that Luffy wouldn't have a clue regarding your feelings, and a conversation would most certainly need to happen.
Walking quietly to your shared room, you carefully opened the door. the first thing you noticed was that Luffy was still awake, crouched in the middle of his bed. It wasn't strange for Luffy to be awake so late in the night, knowing that his sleep schedule was pretty irregular, but an unusually upset expression was etched into his face.
The second thing you noticed was that the delicious gifts surrounding his bed were uneaten, unopened, the wrapping on a few having not been touched.
Luffy noticed you immediately, the corners of his lips pulling down even further, his brow furrowed in a mixture of, seemingly, sadness and confusion, like a puppy watching their owner leave for the first time.
"Are you mad at me?" he blurted out quietly, clutching his knees.
All you could do was sigh in response, moving to sit on your own bed.
"I don't know," you confessed, looking away from him. "I'm...mad, yeah. But at you? I don't know."
Luffy remained quiet until you decided to break the silence.
"Hancock is pushy," you crossed your arms, "she's pushing my boundaries and she's pushing her way between us. I know she's a friend of yours and she's helped you a lot, but it hurts to watch her snuggle up to you and talk about the 'love' between you."
You looked up at Luffy, seeing the realization and hurt flood his eyes, his fingers twitching as his legs slid towards the edge of the bed.
He didn't say anything yet, instead squeezing the blankets and looking down at his feet, clearly composing his thoughts.
"I'm sorry, ____," Luffy whispered, standing up from the bed. "I know Hancock does nice things for me, but I don't see her like I see you,"
"Then why don't you tell her off? Tell her to leave you alone, tell her you're in a relationship?" you pushed, feeling the jealousy seething out of you.
Luffy frowned and walked closer to you, sitting down on your bed. "You're the greatest treasure I've ever found," he confessed, moving his hands to yours, "it's like you're so shiny and bright, and everybody else is all gray. I know Hancock talks a lot and gives me a lot of food, but if you don't want me to talk or take stuff from her, then I won't, promise!"
Despite your attempts to remain stoic, you were unable to disguise the twinge of a smile caused by Luffy's statement, choosing to nuzzle your face in his neck to hide.
"You don't have to ignore her, Luf. Just ask her to tone it down, maybe? She is the queen of this place. Even if I'm mad at her, I'd rather not piss off someone who can kill us with a snap of her fingers," you mumbled, playing with his vest.
Luffy gave you a big hug, wrapping his rubbery arms around once, and then twice. "If she tries to hurt you, then I'll stop her! You're way more awesome than her," Luffy declared with a pout, falling back into your tiny bed with you in his arms, "and I promise I'll be an extra awesome boyfriend for you."
"You're too sweet, Luf," you laughed softly, hugging him tighter. "But maybe we should move to the bigger bed?"
"I'm too tired, and I'm already comfy," he whined.
"Fine," you grumbled, too tired to argue with your much stronger boyfriend (and captain.)
"G'night, ____," Luffy hummed, pulling you closer to his chest.
You smiled, shutting your eyes, "Night, Luffy."
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The morning seemed to come swiftly, light spilling into the room and striking your face. Your boyfriend was still wrapped around you like a vice, caging you tightly against his chest.
"Luffy," you groaned, trying to push him away, "you gotta let me go, it's time to get up,"
Luffy moaned and pressed his face to your chest, "Five more minutes, pretty please?"
"Jimbei said the ship would be here in the morning, the mor-ning, Luf. If we're late to meet them then Nami will beat our asses."
"Then I'll beat her up!"
"Then I'll have to dig your grave."
Luffy pouted and retracted his arms, crossing them, "Fine, we can go now."
Now free from you boyfriend's hold, you and Luffy changed your clothes for the new day, then exited the bedroom.
Immediately upon opening the door, you were greeted with the beautiful, illuminating face of Boa Hancock, who was clearly shocked and upset to see you exit with Luffy.
"Ah, Luffy! I just wanted to see if you wanted to have breakfast? I've had 60 eggs cooked and 30 plates of meat—"
"Sorry, Hancock!" Luffy interrupted, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, "we've gotta go!"
"But—"
Without letting her get another word out, Luffy sprinted through the halls of the palace and out of an expansive window, stretching his way across the viridian forest below.
The sights below were familiar, but it was strange seeing them down below. You could make out the path you travelled through the leaves, even catching a glimpse of the cliff you had stood on last night, a horrible moment during a horrible day that seemed so far away now.
As Luffy jumped from tree to tree, occasionally breaking through the canopy to give you that bird's-eye view, you eventually landed at the gate to Amazon Lily, where the thousand sunny was currently floating.
"Hey, lovebirds!" Nami yelled up, waving her arms, "you're just in time! Let's get out of here!"
"Please, let me go! I need to get onto that island!" Sanji cried out, held in place by Robin's devil fruit-generated limbs.
Luffy let out a boisterous laugh, "We're comin' down! Let's go, ____!" he howled, sprinting towards the ledge.
You looked over your shoulder, fear in your eyes, "Luffy, don't you dare!"
Luffy, ignoring your pleas for a safer entrance, leapt onto the ship with a battle cry, landing perfectly on the wooden deck with you in hand. He gently set you down, flashing a grin as he patted your shoulder.
"Wasn't that fun?!" Luffy exclaimed, dusting off his straw hat.
You collapsed in shock, sprawling your limbs out on the deck as you recovered from your near-death situation.
"We'll...we'll work on that," you panted, desperately attempting to catch your breath.
"Sweet! Let's go now!" Luffy cheered, pulling you back up
"Go? Where?" you asked, astonished, "we just got back to the ship?"
"I told ya, I'm gonna be and extra super awesome boyfriend!" he beamed, "now we have to go do some extra super awesome stuff!"
He once again wrapped you up in his arms, flashing a smile as he hugged you.
"I promise I'm gonna be a way better boyfriend from now on, I won't disappoint you!" he beamed.
You smiled back and ruffled his hair, kissing his forehead.
"You're already the best boyfriend I could ask for, Luffy."
"But I can be better!"
"Better than best?"
"Best of the best!"
You threw you head back and laughed, squeezing him back.
"Alright, Luf. Show me what you have in mind."
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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago
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Pretty Red Ribbon
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 2,700+
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Synopsis: After your birthday was ruined last year at the hands of a certain pink-feather-donning, glasses-wearing gentleman who you love to hate, your fellow warlord, Sir Crocodile, gives you a little gift you did not expect to darken your doorstep.
Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, birthday, enemies to lovers, nsfw themes, suggestive content, not explicit - but mdni just in case, warlord!reader, platonic crocodile x reader, dom!reader x sub!doflamingo, gendered terms used
Notes: I had been wanting to write for Doflamingo for a while, and the art by @wesaier gave me the final shove that I needed to get it done. (Their Rosinante also has me in a chokehold. I adore their work. Also, happy birthday!) First time writing a proper fic-length for Doffy before his series.
Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @mfreedomstuff
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The soft growl of the den-den-mushi atop your kitchen bench began rattling and humming in an awakened dance. The steam from the scorching water in the kettle whistled in unison to the rumbling call, the rattle of teacups on trays causing your attention to pull in a variety of directions in your large kitchen.
“I’ll get it, Miss,” your employee called from the corner of the room, his body carrying his vast height towards the den-den in three lengthy strides. He picked up the transponder end of the snail, elevating the mouth and earpiece to his face. Thanking him with a smile, you returned to continue readying yourself a cup of your desired tea. 
“You really shouldn’t be making this for yourself, Miss,” your lady’s maid addressed you over your shoulder, “You employ us to take care of you and your needs. You should let us do our jobs and spoil you, especially on a day like today-.”
“-And that will be the last I hear about anything regarding ‘today’, Dinah,” you scolded her with a playful wink, “It’s just another day, and I would like to have it remain as such,” you moved the loose-leaf strainer in your teapot, collecting the remnants of the scorched leaves and discarded them, “Besides, I always love being in the kitchen with you all after another stupid meeting at the world-government headquarters. They always seem to gather any excuse to call us all in: exercising their rights as masters and holders of the tight leash. Absolute bastards, the lot of them.”
“And we adore you down here, Miss,” Dinah lulled her head on your shoulder and laced her hands around your midsection, “We love the gossip about the other warlords, and we always enjoy hearing about your day. You take such good care of all of us, but I think we all just wish you’d let us celebrate your birthday-.”
“-Absolutely not, Dinah,” you giggled at the younger woman embracing you, unlacing her hands from your waist and collecting your teacup and saucer from the tray you had prepared, “Last time I attempted to celebrate this day, I was held up for a multitude of times because that stupid Donquixote continued to ask stupid questions that had the meeting at the marine base go overtime. Missed reservations, didn’t make it to check in time at the homestead - and didn’t even get to enjoy that bottle of wine I ordered for myself. I swore that would be the last time I attempted to celebrate, and that’s that.”
“Just because your last birthday was ruined last year doesn’t mean you should swear them all off, Miss,” your handmaid smiled at you, “We’d adore making you feel special if you’d let us. Today is free of Donquixote Doflamingo, after all.” You growled at just the mention of his name, feeling your disdain elevating in your throat as a sour bile. 
“I despise that tall pelican man. I loathe him, hate him even,” you confessed, prompting Dinah to huff a small laugh in response. You groaned out more frustrated admissions to your lady’s maid, “I would have him drawn and quartered, hung and splayed, whipped and chained. I could wring his neck and spit in his face if I knew the sick bastard wouldn’t like it.” 
“I’m sure he would appreciate any scrap of your attention,” Dinah teased you with a sly tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “He seems to vie for your head to turn, by any means necessary.”
“He vexes me, torments me,” you continued, much to your handmaid's delight, “He needs to be knocked down a couple of pegs. Be made to crawl on all fours and beg like a dog-.”
“-Apologies for the interruption, Miss. I’m sorry to disturb your polite conversation,” the larger man holding the den-den-mushi to his ear held out the earpiece and transceiver to you, “Sir Crocodile is on the other end of the call. Says he has something for you.” You groaned out an exasperated breath before taking the shell into your hand.
“Thank you, Arturo. I’m sorry you had to hear that. I got a little fiery for a moment there,” you nodded to the man, who straightened his back before taking your saucer from your hands. He smiled down at you, moving to his place next to Dinah, anchoring his hips and leaning back against the sink with a smirk.
“What’s the call about?” Dinah whispered in a hushed rush to Arturo beside her.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Arturo hushed back his own scratchy whisper, attempting to hold back his laughter. You shot them both a sharp look, your smirk still drawn up on your pursed lips. 
You raised the end to your ear and huffed out a sigh, calling into the piece, “Sir Crocodile? To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice gracing me today?” A rumble of silence purred through the receiver against your ear, a lengthy puff of smoke coursing through the grimace of the crocodilian man.
“I heard it was somebody’s birthday,” the rattle of his drawl taunted you through the crackled speaker. You shot your employees a dark look, prompting them to immediately spin on their heels and return to their duties. You groaned as you turned to face away from them, still holding the shell to your ear. 
“Not a cause for celebration, Sir,” you purse your lips, examining your fingernails and cuticles, “But I appreciate your call regardless.” Your tone depicted your smile, truth spilling from your lips as you truly meant every word. 
Sir Crocodile was your closest and oldest ally of all the warlords presented to you. You enjoyed sitting by him, both basking in the aura of one another. You held each other in the highest regard, you could even call each other ‘friend’ without it stretching too far out of the ordinary. What solidified your bond the most with one another was your complete and utter dislike for Donquixote Doflamingo. 
“The appreciation is reciprocated, Highness,” Crocodile’s smirk purred through the receiver, “Which is why I decided to send you a little gift. Should be darkening your doorstep right about now.” 
“Sir Crocodile, while I appreciate the sentiment,” you acknowledge his gesture with a kind and even tone, shaking your head as you take your den-den to the front door of your manor, “The only thing I really want is that feather-wearing asshole: stripped down, bound and gagged, on his lanky knees and looking up with his eyes all watery and pleading,” you reached the door, opening it and shrieking in shock as your eyes met with the gift presented before you.
His body was bound in a thick length of red ribbon, chest bare and hands bound behind his back in seastone cuffs. Pointed glasses lay askew on his face with his lips gagged by a ball strapped to his face. Drool gathered at the base of his chin, his glassy eyes looking up at your face with bewilderment. His bare chest was strangled beneath the red ribbon, his pants hanging limply over his hips as the top button and zipper exposed his slender adonis belt. 
Lips falling slack, you almost dropped the shell from your ear as shock wrote itself over your features. Donquixote Doflamingo was bound, gagged and on his knees on your front doorstep: entirely at your mercy. 
“I thought topping it with a pretty red bow would be too on the nose,” Sir Crocodile called over the mushi, “But he is apprehensively allowing himself to be on the receiving end of your retribution, given his disruption of your last birthday celebration.”
No words gathered in your mind, all thoughts racing as the wealthy Donquixote continued to hold his gaze against your own. His lips trembled around the gag, his brow triangulating in an upward peak as he darted his eyes between yours to gauge your intent. 
He had no idea what possessed him to accept this little adventure, and he did not remember agreeing to be cuffed, gagged and without his entourage. As he witnessed the wicked streak spark within your eyes, he truly had no idea what you were going to do with him like this. Without a whisper of admission to it, he truly did everything in his power to gain your attention and hold it for as long as he could. He’d go through great lengths to be subject to your steely gaze.
Ruining your birthday last year was when he felt he truly went too far. You kept your private life quiet for the most part, only a select few were privy to the knowledge of your innermost thoughts. When he was made aware by Sir Crocodile how far he managed to spoil the occasion, he was given a choice by the cigar-smoking gentleman: “Your left hand, or to be subject to her mercy?” 
He thought he made the appropriate choice. 
Evidently, he did not know the extent Sir Crocodile was going to take his punishment. 
“Do you like your gift, Highness?” the voice cracked through the receiver after several moments pause, “Or would you like to return it? Got one in a similar shade and style?” You giggled into the mouthpiece, prompting Sir Crocodile to chuckle his own sinister laughter. 
“I think I’ll keep it,” you purred, holding your eyes half-hooded as you reached your index finger down to swipe the collected drool from his chin. Doflamingo whimpered as you hooked your finger beneath his jaw, prompting him to fall forward and lean into your touch, “How long do I have it for?” you hovered your face above his, uttering a final question, “And in what condition should I intend to keep it in?”
“Your prerogative, Highness,” Sir Crocodile confessed, drawing up a large breath of smoke in his mouth and exhaling, “Use him, abuse him, torment him, torture him: he is yours to play with for the next fourty-eight hours. Happy birthday, Dear.” At the final utterance, Sir Crocodile clicked the end of the receiver off: leaving your snail to crackle its muffled voice shut. 
You hummed in deep thought, gazing down your nose at the tall man who, even on his knees, is nearly at eye height. Moving his face in your hands, you clicked your tongue as one would when examining an object intended for purchase. He whimpered further when your hands began exploring his torso as you circled his body. Your fingertips felt like lightning on his skin, igniting his expectations and triggering his wanton intrigue. 
“If I remove the gag and seastone cuffs,” you whisper into his ear, trailing your fingertips down his spine, “Will you behave yourself, pelican?” He nodded frantically, lulling his head back on his shoulders to bring himself closer to you. You hummed in thought, hooking your fingers over the material tugging the gag over his lips. 
“Feel better?” you asked him, maneuvering around his body to face him once again, “Less restricted and more of your repulsive self?” 
Taking a moment to roll his tongue in his mouth to regain the sensation, he felt himself relax into your touch as you loosened the cuffs. He moaned as your hands caressed his wrists to reignite the blood flow swelling down into his fingertips. 
“Always so kind,” Doflamingo commented with his signature smirk rising to his lips, “Do you ever grow tired of being so good all the time?” His eyes searched yours, still unsure of how you were going to respond to him on his knees. 
“Would you prefer if I were cruel to you?” you arched your brow up and lowered your tone, “Abused you for my own sick entertainment?”
“You could choke me, flog me, spit in my face - better yet, in my mouth,” Doflamingo listed, his pupils blown with lust beneath his pink glasses, “You could step on me, rake me over nails and hot coals, and all I would say is: ‘thank you for a scrap of your attention’. It is your day, after all.”
“Obsessive and excessive, Donquixote,” you scolded him, tugging at the red ribbon constricting his chest to have him rise to his feet and follow you into your manor, “Why must you always provoke me?” 
“Because I want you,” he whispered after you, a small whine in his voice as he followed closely behind you. His heavy feet trotted like a prized pony after you, allowing you to lead his body throughout the halls to your manor, “I want you so badly. I want all of your attention, all of your focus. I want to be at the very center of your universe, by any means necessary.”
Making eye contact with Arturo and Dinah, both of which shot you quizzical looks as Doflamingo pranced behind you attached to a line of red ribbon. You shot them both a look to forbid them from uttering a single phrase in questioning you, prompting them to hold up their hands in defense. 
“Should I bring you your tea, Miss?” Arturo called after you as you exited the frame of the door to the kitchen, “Perhaps a couple of glasses of wine?” 
“Perhaps later, Arturo. I’ll send for you if I need you,” you mentioned over your shoulder. 
As you looked behind you, there was a foreign expression painted over Donquixote Doflamingo’s face. His cheeks were tinted with a pink dust, his eyes glassy and eyelids half-closed and gazing at you through thick, blonde eyelashes. His signature smirk was replaced by a dumbstruck, goofy smile and his giddiness adamant in each of his pepped steps. 
Scoffing and rolling your eyes at him, you lead him into the master suite of your manor and force him to kneel in the center of the room. You took a seat on your plush armchair and gaze at him disinterestedly. He was all but vibrating in anticipation for your next movement. 
“Anything to say for yourself, Donquixote?” you purse your lips crossing your legs by hooking your right knee over your left and rocking your foot at him. He crawled forward on his knees, hypnotized beneath your cold stare. Eyes meeting with yours, his lips fell agape in a perfect circle as your foot met with his chest to halt his movement. 
Looking down at your heeled shoe, he bowed low enough to brush his forehead in a deep nuzzle against your shin, rocking his head to the side and attempting to become the very picture of innocence. You leant forwards, removing his glasses from his face and glaring into his expressive eyes with a wicked glint. 
“Go on, pet,” you spat down at him, “Unless you have nothing intelligible to offer me in conversation.” He pressed his lips against your shin, grazing his mouth up your legs and inadvertently slotting himself between your knees. 
“Happy Birthday,” he uttered against your skin, pressing a lengthy kiss against your right knee and integrating his entangled self between your legs further, “And I apologize for ruining the one prior.” Peppering kisses over your knee and up your thigh, his tongue flicked out over your flesh and swirled against you. 
Patience wearing thin, you redraw your right foot back over his chest and nudge him backwards to look into his eyes. Your lips curled into a snarl, eyes narrow and accusatory as you gnash your teeth at the tall blonde on his knees in front of you. 
“If you want my forgiveness, Donquixote Doflamingo,” you whisper in a warning tone, danger written over your features enough to cause the large man to shudder beneath your wicked stare, “Beg for it.”
Forty-Eight hours was more than enough time for Doflamingo to become a begging, pleading, whimpering mess beneath your skilled and expert hands. His mind fell blank, his body not experiencing the amount of sensory overload and sensory deprivation with a partner in encounters prior.
He was always the one in control, him only ever taking and taking to provide himself the pinnacle of pleasurable experiences. To be the one out of control, to simply have to take what he was given with his mind vacant of all thoughts aside from being subject to your desires.
The only things he continued to manage to befall from his lips were three phrases: “I’m sorry,” “thank you,” and “forgive me.” Just how you wanted him: complacent, dumbstruck, and all wrapped up in a pretty red ribbon.
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otkuhotgirl · 2 months ago
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─── 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆
# with vice-admiral smoker.
the point of your lover's weapon has a small piece of sea-prism stone. you, wickedly, happen to find it'd be just as useful on your heels.
⎰ & KINKTOBER, day nine. smut (mdni!) boot worship. tights. teasing. choking. office!sex. afab!reader. no y/n used.
WC: 2k.
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the path of a marine officer was complicated; oftentimes disappointing. the naive trust in the justice code had died ages prior, buried underneath piles of bitter dirt, destined to rot alongside the witnessed corruption, lodged within the walls of the organization whose code he once chose to surrender his freedom to follow. smoker grew harsher, more prone to snapping; the character of his career and the never-ending growth in pirate activity all but a fuel. tashigi — meekly — pointed out that perhaps the cause of such annoyance came from a tendency to overwork himself. hina — on her hand, revolted — stated that he needed to get laid.
the latter proved to be correct.
yet, the road that led him to you had done it so in an agonizing pace. as quite a known, high in hierarchy, marine officer, the pursuit of love had to be engulfed in wariness. smoker was one responsible for the capture of an innumerable amount of pirates, most harmless to those with certain skill yet for sure lethal to a common civilian. escapes were more often than not ruled out, but one could never be too sure, meaning that a relationship engaged with an individual unable to fend for themselves was improbable — which left him with either pirates, revolutionaries, or a co-worker. marines, however, either incompetent or insufferable, save for a select group.
smoker had not once envisioned himself in a loving embrace with those of shared values and career, for the thought alone of finding one interesting enough seemed but a wild dream. that was, of course, until he caught a glimpse of you.
rather than losing himself in the reasoning forbidding him from pursuing a long-term partner, smoker had started to weigh the pros and cons of dating a fellow vice-admiral. distance was an obnoxious obstacle, for the pair of you were commanders of marine bases on divergent directions. transponder snail was not quite a viable method of communication either — at least, not when one aimed to share romance-coated sentences — for the call could be wiretapped, and the embarrassing contents of the conversation overheard. and, at last, you were only ever saw in cases of obnoxious, general reunions or unrecommended straying from your patrols.
it happened to be one of the pros — you were far more daring. smoker had no respect for twisted orders, and more often than not decided to act with no regard for the upper heads’ plans whatsoever, yet somehow he had managed to find a partner with a behavior twice as rascal — distance was an obstacle you did not bother to counter. your strength absolved him of worry, for you were far more capable than most. but what had convinced him altogether was the sheer urge to have an ever-current carnal connection with one he nurtured something for — and those tights. he adored tugging at them; vanishing his fingers amidst conjured smoke to tease the bare flesh under the fabric; staining it with the ash of his cigar. smoker had never spared much thought to one’s thighs until he was given the opportunity to leave yours red; figure spasming due to the violent pinch of his large fingers.
he had commanded his subordinates to dock and re-stock, the interval of time required for the log pose to adapt being one above a week. it was but a matter of days until your fleet was seen at shore, having followed the vivre card leading to him. smoker had his legs spread, a sour figure growing restless at your absence, a veil of spiraling nicotine all but staining the walls of his office.
languid, sensual-esque knocking; the echoing of heels against the ground. he opened an eye, failing to contain the pleasure born from your arrival. the marine’s coat hand from your shoulders, usual tights hugging the delicious flesh of your legs as you strutted in his direction, wearing an expression that promised nothing but trouble.
“we have full-on uniforms to use for a reason,” he scolded, though his tone held neither sharpness nor annoyance.
“is that so?” you hummed, sitting on his table, legs crossed. smoker’s hand went to your thigh as though second instinct, gripping it with non-forethought strength. “you first.”
he grinned. whenever the weather warmed up, smoker was one to rest shirtless in his office, and the occasion at hand was far from different. the point of your boot brushed against his bare chest, and he ceased the roaming of his fingers on your ankles upon noticing you have never used that piece — at least, not with him.
“new boots?” smoker inquired, aware that one valued having their partner pointing out appearance shifts — no matter how minor.
your face lit up as though a forest fire, a malicious smile surging on your lips as you leaned forward, playfully kicking his abdomen. “you liked it?”
“it’s black leather,” he stated, not quite able to differentiate it from your previous ones.
“wanna see what it can do?”
the smile offered was mischievous; borderline diabolical. instincts alight due to the unspoken promise of trouble. unpredictable endeavor of sexual character that had his member twitching regardless of the warning goosebumps. smoker retreated from your figure, making use of the comfortable armrests at his sides. aware that he’d regret his decision, smoker spurred you on, nodding his head with a grin.
the sole of your boot applied pressure to his chest, forcing his back to meet the leather surface of his seat. that position was far from distasteful. smoker adored having you on his table, whether splayed or bent, vulnerable to the assault of his cock; perhaps crawling with your ass up, teeth tugging his zipper down. he did not mind the perspective of having you on more comfortable surfaces — a soft mattress, a large couch — yet his office remained his most favored spot. smoker was obsessed with the sight of your juices smearing the wooden table; of pressing you against the wall, shoving himself so deep he had your head hitting the harsh surface. whatever thought you had in mind, so long as it had you in such a position — sitting on his table, biting your lip with hooded eyes —, he was pleased with it.
until he flinched at the touch of your heel. the smoke once conjured had vanished, as though a gust of wind traveled past his power, dismantling the veil that had once covered the lightning of his office. smoker hissed, trapped under your foot; squirming with gritted teeth.
“sea-prism stone heels?” he snarled, gripping the armrest.
“stole the idea from you,” you teased, dragging the heel against his bare chest. “thought we could match.”
smoker’s fingers curled in the hole straps of your tights, tearing through the fabric in an attempt to drag you closer. yet, your grip on the edges of the table was steel-made; unmoving, regardless of his insistence. power and strength were drained without distinction, the man left at your entire mercy with a mind much too hazed to react in equal fervor.
“no spite in storage?” you cooed, tilting his chin up with the point of your boot, aware of that being far from the truth.
smoker was livid. yet not at you; rather at himself. his underwear was but a narrow prison, constricting his aching cock. he trailed his eyes down your bare shoulders, to the enticing inches of flesh of your thighs, wrapped around black, thin straps. when your other foot started to hover above his belt, slim heel threatening to angle itself down on his covered erection, smoker had to convey the urge to moan. it was pathetic; maddening. you were but reducing him to a puddle of meek sensation, condescending tone with lascivious-wrapped orders, and rather than to struggle and regain his dignity, he was willing to fold.
his eyes shone with uncovered rage, and that all but excited you twice as much, the point of your heel moving his chin to the sides, dragging itself far closer to his sealed lips.
“take these heels off me,” he ordered, though the bark lacked its usual fierceness. you dared pretend to ponder it over, a faux expression of concentration; an index tapping on your chin.
“so mean,” you pouted, sighing dramatically. “didn’t you adore it?”
prolonged time spent for the innuendo to be understood; the light drag of your boot on his lower lip. smoker’s expression shifted into one of pure disturbance, yet his treacherous cock twitched under the pressure of your other heel, denying him the right of pretense.
“c’mon,” you edged him, all but threatening to step on his face.
perhaps it had been the numbing effects of the sea-prism stone; perhaps smoker had lost his mind to lust; for his lips met the sole of your boot a second thereafter, pressing a short-lived kiss against it. he shuddered, tongue lolling out as his eyes caught a glimpse of your blown-wide ones, as if you were struggling to believe that he had conceded to your wish. smoker coated the leather of the tip with saliva, roaming his tongue from the covered region of your fingers.
trembling hand settled on your leg, raising and drawing it closer, as a lustful mouth left a trail of wet kisses throughout the entire extension of your boot. he dared use the other one to grip the bare flesh, pinching and squeezing — a promise. you trembled, growing hot with the sight. smoker observed you through his eyelashes, making out with your boot, inching his head forward until his nose brushed against your knee and your heel hovered above his flexed abdomen. you gasped when his teeth nipped at your tights, tearing through the straps; tongue claiming the exposed flesh of your knee. when smoker guided a set of fingers closer to your intimacy — the other ones busying themselves with the grip of your ankle —, and had his thumb pressed against your clothed clit, you trembled. when he closed a fist around the crotch and threatened to rip it, the surprise had your heel pressing itself with regained fervor against his cock.
smoker stiffened, his breath growing labored. his teeth met the leather of your boot, tugging at it as though a wild beast, a muffled grunt of pleasure vibrating through the material. he could sense your own excitement; feel it dampening his hand, for you went to visit him without panties. that made him rut against the heel, yet again trailing desperate kisses through the extension of your boot, licking and witnessing the gradual dripping of saliva.
the prolonged contact with the sea-prism stone had his limbs growing limp, threatening to reach a point of uselessness. the merest act of raising a questioning eyebrow had demanded an insane amount of energy. he felt close to slipping out of consciousness, as though poisoned. your legs trembled — or perhaps, that had been his own hands —, and you parted them as much as your flexibility permitted, the sea-prism stone inching out of touch as a consequence.
without it, the return of his usual strength was but automatic. smoker’s smirk was borderline crooked when he witnessed your anticipating — yet shrinking — behavior; fear and lust overlapping. he tugged down at the material of your shorts, ripping it in two, all but turning it into a minuscule skirt. no longer restricted to the limits of his chair, smoker raised himself to his full height and gripped your neck, pushing your back against the table. you gasped at the sudden lack of air; the strength that would not give.
“lost your big words?” he taunted, spreading your legs further. “you were enjoying yourself then, weren’t you?”
you attempted to nod, eyes rolling due to the pressure. your voice came out rough, strained, even, for you knew that smoker demanded vocal replies. “i– i was.”
his smile was all teeth and malice. “i will be enjoying this.”
smoker grabbed your spit-coated ankle, holding it high above his shoulder, careful not to allow the heel to touch his hand. he kept the other leg spread, forcing his own knee against it while his fingers undid the button of his pants, allowing it to slip off. smoker struggled to grow accustomed to his own strength due to the previous extended restriction, and his underwear, too, fell prey to his vicious grip, the waistband snapping in two alongside the rest of the fabric. the man scoffed before releasing the pressure on your throat for the briefest instance, enough to have you draw-in a desperate breath before he tightened the grip yet again.
withdrawing with his shaft free of its previous cuffs, he positioned at your entrance, grinning at your alarmed reaction. smoker slammed himself inside, not minding the fact that your tights were still on. his tip tore through the straps, the length invading your cunt without further ado. smoker hissed when your walls enveloped him, the wetness added to the material of your tights creating an odd, yet welcoming texture. you clenched around his cock, and would have screamed at the sudden invasion if you happened to have enough air in your lungs.
the first thrust had him deep, balls hitting your ass. he released the pressure on your throat in order to set a ruthless pace, the table underneath cringing at the used strength. for your own pleasure — and for the perspective of witnessing the roll of those teary eyes — smoker licked the sole of your boot yet again, biting down on the tip; scraping his teeth down against the leather. you mewled when he brushed your g-spot — again and again, without mercy —, arching your back and gripping the edges of the table.
“that’s it,” he rasped out, leaving a bite mark on your boot, aiming for his teeth to reach your flesh. “that’s—shit, where you belong.”
the jerk of his hips was coated in brute force, a repeated pattern, base-to-tip; in-and-out. he hammered through your walls without an ounce of mercy, the cacophony of your pleasure the most ethereal music he had ever heard. the regained clenching had him know you were close, and smoker deprived you of air yet again, aware that the choking sensation would lead you to the edge. no warning was ensued on his part, and as soon as your high coated the sensible skin of his cock, smoker shot his load inside, chasing the ends of his orgasm regardless of the shared stimulation, grunting at the sight of your mixed essences dripping out of your cunt.
he was careful not to collapse into you, elbows pressed on the table in order to support his weight. smoker pressed a kiss on your sweat-coated temple, raising himself ever-so-slightly, eyes scanning the room.
“what are you searching for?” you inquired tiredly, your voice rough due to the strength of his grip.
“my weapon,” he replied, grinning down at you. “after all, you wanted us to match.”
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hannahbarberra162 · 2 months ago
Text
Under the Microscope, Part 5 (Yandere Sabo x Reader)
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on Ao3
All the other chapters
You meet Ace over dinner. Sabo makes a snail call.
You didn’t react when Sabo mentioned Ace’s name, just continued trudging behind him. Interesting, even before his execution, Ace's name brought a certain amount of curiosity and notoriety. You were trying to take in information about the island as you walked along the path to the house.  There was no point, it was a small uncharted island in the middle of nowhere, no one could find it without a permanent log pose. It was an autumn island but was currently in its spring season. Sabo liked the island a lot and had been enjoying the little time he was able to spend on it. If Sabo hadn’t had to leave all the time for missions, he would have loved to spend his time on the island. It had a natural waterfall and small freshwater lagoon, some wildlife, and a lot of shady trees and vegetation.  You were looking at some of the wildflowers that had grown along the side of the beaten path to the house. You raised your hands as if to magnify a purple flower but stopped yourself, finally noticing that Sabo was watching you.
"It's a little chilly out, would you like my jacket?" Sabo suggested. You shook your head to decline his offer.
“What were you doing about a year and a half ago?” Sabo asked you. You scrunched your little nose in thought, eyebrows drawn.
“Working,” you replied quietly, not giving any further detail. Ah, you were wary of him now that you felt better and were on land. It was a reasonable reaction to have, Sabo didn’t mind. You didn’t see the bigger picture, didn't understand the plans Sabo had for you. Anyone would be upset by a drastic change, especially one they didn’t plan themselves. 
The island was a perfect place for you to stay for the time being. You would be safe, unable to be tracked by the Marines. Sabo knew they would try to find you, bring you back to their base, and he couldn’t let that happen. As a bonus, there was no one else to talk to on the island besides him and his brother. You would get over your fear and nervousness of him if you had no one else to interact with. If he’d taken you back to the RA headquarters, he knew you’d be a companion to Koala, make friends with Betty and Lindbergh, and he just knew Iva would love you. So for now you needed to stay isolated with them on the island. They’d all get to know you in a few months when Sabo brought you to Momoiro. He knew you were lonely, you’d gravitate to him and Ace sooner or later. Sabo knew Ace would like you, he just had to get over some of his…issues. Sabo planned to keep you here until you’d accepted your situation - and him. 
“Are you familiar with Marineford?” Sabo asked.
“Um, the new one or the old one? I know the old one was destroyed and Whitebeard and Gol D. Roger’s son were killed there but I never caught up completely on the news.” You started wringing your hands, Sabo noticed, as if you were worried about being caught. “I was supposed to but I had a lot to do and I was busy -”
“Researching,” Sabo said, finishing your sentence for you. Your face soured, but Sabo wasn’t making fun of you, you were as dedicated to your field as he was to his own. Making your way to the little house Sabo shared with Ace, he held open the unlocked door for you. It was dark inside, all the curtains drawn, the air musty and stale. Ah, Ace must be stewing again. At least it was warm inside, you were only wearing Sabo’s old tunic.
“Ace, c’mere, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he called out into the darkness. Sabo moved towards the curtains and you moved along with him. You looked like you were scared that someone was going to pop out of the shadows. Sabo slowed down so you’d bump into him while you looked around. It was foolish, but he relished any contact he could have with you. “Aaaaaaace,” Sabo called out in a sing-song voice, “where aaaaaaare youuuuu?” Sabo opened one of the curtains, sunlight now pouring into the room. You yelped as you saw Ace, slouching on the couch, arms folded and frowning, staring silently at you. You bumped back into Sabo again, this time he reached out and held your upper arm for ‘support.’
“Ace, stop moping for a few minutes. We have a guest.” Sabo stood behind you, almost presenting you to his brother. Ace glared at you, still silent. “Oh, don’t be mad. It’s time you saw someone other than me,” Sabo said, rolling his eyes. Ace leaned forward, stood up, and left the house, slamming the door behind him, making you jump again. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back when he gets hungry,” Sabo said, patting your shoulder. 
Your POV
You weren’t worried whether Sabo’s brother would be back or not. He scared the shit out of you, sitting there in the darkness, staring at you. He didn’t bear a lot of physical resemblance to Sabo, but the staring reminded you of Sabo. Ace had long, wavy black hair, reaching past his shoulder blades. It looked unkempt, like he hadn’t brushed it in a long time. He was wearing a Wano style yukata, with no shirt underneath. He had a lot of bandages over his chest, nearly the entire area was covered. 
“Ace has been having a…rough time,” Sabo hedged. “But he’s actually really nice. You’ll like him, he’s like me in a lot of ways.” You weren’t sure you liked Sabo , much less Ace, but you didn’t voice that thought out loud. You appreciated Sabo’s kindness when you were ill, but you’d been fine without his help, and you definitely didn’t want to be kidnapped. If your meeting with Sakazuki had gone well, you were expecting a promotion and transfer to another base. But now you weren’t sure you’d ever see anyone besides Sabo and his brother ever again.
Sabo opened more of the curtains and windows, letting in the fresh air. “Much better,” he said to himself. Turning to you, he clapped his hands together with a smile. “Let’s give you a tour of the house, yes?” Sabo led you through the house, starting with the living room. The living room, kitchen, Sabo’s office and a bathroom were all on the first floor while closets, another bathroom, and the two bedrooms were on the second. It was clear people were living there, but there was something missing. The house wasn’t decorated at all, no photos, no art, nothing to make it a home. It felt like a hospital room, it had the basic necessities but nothing personal. 
“You’re welcome in any unlocked room of the house, you live here now. That room,” he said, pointing to a closed door, “is Ace’s.” It looked like the door had been kicked and stabbed a few times. “This one,” Sabo gestured to another door on the right, “is ours.” 
“W-what do you mean ours ?” you stammered, suddenly uncomfortable. You knew you were wearing Sabo’s clothes on Sabo’s island, but you hadn’t thought he would be so…forward. You were abruptly reminded of the differences in your heights, weights, and fighting abilities. You took a step back, but Sabo took one forward, keeping you near him.
“Our room,” Sabo said slowly, as if you were confused about the meaning of his words. “We were already sharing a room on the ship and I thought it worked out well. Besides, there aren’t any more rooms or any other houses on the island. I’m not saying we have to share the same bed, ” Sabo said, rolling his eyes. You hadn’t given much thought to where Sabo had been sleeping on the ship, but you supposed you’d been sharing a room in some way.
“Oh, um, ok. I can, um, sleep on the floor. I don’t mind,” you offered. Sabo balked at your statement.
“We’ll figure it out later,” he said dismissively. Something told you that you wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor. “Now, let’s get some food going. I’m worried about you after that trip. We need to get you healthier, starting with proper nutrition.” Sabo was so serious at that moment, like he was considering all the ways he could help you feel better. He did also cause some of your problems, but you didn’t think he wanted to hear that. 
Sabo brought you to the small kitchen and guided you to the chairs. The kitchen had bar style seating overlooking the main cooking area, complete with barstools. Sabo opened cabinets and drawers, taking stock of the food that was left. Earlier, when Sabo took off your blindfold, you saw that there were crates being unloaded as well, so you knew there would be more food. You hoped Sabo was a good cook, it wasn’t really your forte. You could make a few dishes very well, but were content to eat whatever the mess hall cooked. You found cooking boring and didn’t like spending your time on it. Sabo had his back turned to you, filling a pitcher of water from a barrel. He set it in front of you, along with a cup.
“Here, sit and drink some water. I’ll cook.” You sat at his command, watching him in silence. Sabo started removing some of his layers in preparation for cooking, putting his jacket on the back of the chair next to you. He didn’t take off his gloves, though, even after rolling up his sleeves to cook. Sabo took off his top hat, looking for a place to put it. He reached over, and put it on your head with an unblinking stare and a smile. You paused mid-sip, unsure what to do. You felt like a wild animal that had been sighted by a hunter. You reached up and took the hat off your head, placing it on the counter next to you. Sabo gave a nervous laugh.
“Sorry, I was just trying to be silly. Looks good on you, though.” Sabo brushed off the strange interaction and started pulling out ingredients from the cabinets. He was talking to you, almost monologuing, as you sipped your water and listened, hands shaking slightly. You were feeling unprotected and exposed, fully at the mercy of the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army. Sabo didn’t notice, and kept up the one sided conversation while preparing what looked like stew. As he prepared the food, your mouth watered. Sabo may have kidnapped you and brought you to a secluded island, but he could make a delicious smelling stew. 
“-found this island by accident, and I ended up living here over the past year. It’s quaint and out of the way, which I like. I actually prefer spring islands, but this one is nice too. Ace has also been here for about a year, recovering. We’re not actually -”
The door banged open, making you startle again. You were getting tired of Ace scaring you, it made you even more anxious than you already were. You had to put down the cup you’d been holding your hands were so unsteady. Ace stalked over to the counter, sitting at the next bar stool. He moved Sabo’s hat from in front of his seat to the couch rather delicately, you noticed. He frowned at you but didn’t say anything.
“Welcome back, Ace. Want some food?” Sabo ladeled some incredible smelling stew over rice, handing the bowl to Ace. Ace grunted, and started shoveling it in with a spoon. Literally shoveling. “We’ll do introductions after you’ve eaten,” Sabo declared. Ace barely looked up from his food. Sabo handed another bowl to you.
“For you, Mag - er - what should I call you now? I know you asked me not to call you by that atrocious nickname anymore.” You took the bowl and set it down, thinking. You didn’t want him to know your real name, to know even more information about you than he already did.
“Um, I’m not -” 
Sabo cut you off, smiling. “How about Sunshine?” Sabo was clearly excited about this idea, but you couldn’t understand the nickname. Was he making fun of you?
“Sunshine? Why Sunshine?” You gave him a distrustful look. 
“Because you make my day brighter!” Sabo said with a grin. That earned another grunt from Ace, who looked like he was about to pass out face down. Even though you were at his mercy, you didn’t like Sabo mocking you.
“I don’t think so, I don’t - I don’t do that. That’s not me.” You looked down at your stew, not wanting to meet his gaze. You felt a leather glove underneath your chin, pulling your head up to look at Sabo, who had a fond look on his face. 
“It’s true. You are my sunshine. You’ll believe me eventually.” Sabo rubbed his thumb over your cheek, then let go. You felt confused. You liked Sabo - well, had liked Sabo - but this was too much for you. You were his only romantic choice on the island, that was probably why he was doing weird things. You ignored it for now. 
“Now then, Ace, this is Sunny. Sunny, this is Ace,” Sabo said, taking the seat on your other side. You were in between the two brothers and it was uncomfortably silent.
“Ace, say hello. Don’t be rude,” Sabo said in a clipped tone. You could tell Sabo was getting annoyed, and that made you worried. You’d never seen Sabo mad before, but you could tell it wasn’t something you wanted to see. Ace still didn’t say anything, steadfastly staring at his bowl as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Pardon us for a moment,” Sabo said to you, smiling. With that, he walked around you and grabbed Ace by the ear. Sabo yanked him backwards off the stool, causing Ace to yelp and stumble. Sabo didn’t let go and dragged a floundering Ace out the door, slamming it behind them. You heard a muffled Sabo talking to his brother, mentioning something about manners and hospitality. You finally heard Ace’s voice as he shouted back at his brother. 
“FINE!” Ace yelled at Sabo, opening the door again. He gave you a once over, like he was finally seeing you.
“I’m Ace. Nice to meet you,” he grumbled, inclining his head slightly. He sat back down next to you and picked his spoon back up.
“I’m, uh, Sunny, I guess?” You’d go with Sabo’s cringey suggestion for now. You didn’t think he knew your identity and you weren’t going to provide it. 
“Great! Now we all know each other. I met Sunny at Bayonette -”
“You kidnapped me from Bayonette,” you interjected quietly. You weren’t going to let him forget that you weren’t here voluntarily. 
“You a Marine?” Ace asked, still watching his food.
“Yes,” you replied.
“No,” Sabo replied at the same time. “She was a Marine, but no longer.” You looked at Sabo curiously. Sometimes the way he spoke reminded you of nobles you’d met a few times. But you didn’t know any nobles who joined the Revolutionary Army. It was probably just a quirk, like his suits and top hat. Ace finished his stew and got off his chair.
“See ya around,” he said, going to his room and shutting the door behind him.
Sabo POV
Ace was being annoying but the introduction had actually gone better than Sabo had expected. Ace hadn’t seen anyone besides Sabo since they’d come to live on the island together over a year ago. It was time for Ace to start reacclimating to society, starting with meeting new people. When he met you, he knew you’d be a good person for Ace to befriend. You were smart but oblivious, kind but reserved, intelligent but humble, similar qualities to those Ace had. Since Marineford, Ace’s self confidence and self worth issues had increased exponentially. Sabo tried talking to him about it but he could tell that Ace wasn’t taking to heart what Sabo said. Maybe if he heard it from someone else he would actually listen.
You were still eating, but Sabo unfortunately had work to do before the end of the day. All part of being second in command of an army, he supposed. 
“Stay here and finish your food,” Sabo declared, pouring you another cup of water. “I have to make a call in my office, it shouldn’t take too long. When you’re done eating, feel free to explore the house or the island. If you’re cold, there’s more clothes in our room. Wear anything you want.” Sabo said, putting a hand on your back. You looked up at him like a little lamb, large eyes so innocent and lost. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you, but he knew it wasn’t the time. He had nearly lost his self control when he saw you in his hat, picturing you riding his cock wearing it and nothing else. He’d get some physical contact with you again tonight, after you slept. You’d be sharing a bed, whether you knew it or not. 
Sabo left you and walked briskly to his office, needing to call Dragon. He’d delayed calling for a while, wanting to get his thoughts in order before calling his boss. Sabo didn’t like doing anything impulsively, he preferred to plan meticulously and strategically. He needed to ensure Dragon saw the benefit of having you as an RA asset, rather than some woman he grabbed for comfort. He woke the white den den mushi and started placing his call.
Puru puru puru puru puru puru…
Dragon picked up on the second ring. 
“It’s Sabo. Mission ‘Bastille’ completed, with a deviation in plans.” He knew Koala would have informed Dragon already but he wanted the boss to hear it from him as well.
“Welcome back. Go on.” 
“No further research will be completed on the project, permanently. I was not able to destroy the base as desired but will return at a later date to do so.”
“Why? You were there long enough.”
“A complication arose. I captured the lead scientist, she was working alone. She remains with me at the current time. She could be a critical asset for the RA.” Sabo didn’t actually care if Dragon approved or not, but his life would be easier if he did. Dragon didn’t answer so Sabo continued.
“I believe her to be the scientist behind Project Angel. Her area of expertise and writing style suggest it. She could continue innovation on the project, perhaps to completion.” Sabo let it drop, he knew Dragon well enough to know he was thinking over the proposition. The line went silent for 30 seconds. 
“Gain her confidence, have her work on furthering the project. She may remain in your custody as long as you believe her research to be credible. A ship will be sent to your location.” Sabo smiled to himself. Dragon was hooked, as Sabo knew he’d be. He knew dropping his thoughts about your involvement with Project Angel was enough to show your usefulness. Sabo wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, no matter what the outcome of the conversation was, but he wanted to provide you with purpose. You could serve the Revolutionary Army, at least from afar. Sabo wasn’t surprised Dragon ordered him to the base, but also wasn’t happy about it. He would have to leave you on the island with Ace for a few weeks. But, it would give the two of you time to bond and enjoy each other’s company. Ace, despite his vocal objections, craved human comfort and contact, which you would provide to him. 
Sabo’s heart felt lighter, despite the news of upcoming travel, as he hung up the snail. He wrote a few notes on some reports, read through a note or two and then decided to leave for the night. He left the office door ajar purposefully. He knew you were hiding in the bathroom and listening in, but he wanted to see what you would do. He went from the office to your shared room to freshen up the linens and prepare the room for the night. And to watch you, of course.
Your POV
After your dinner, you’d gone to the restroom near Sabo’s office. You hadn’t been planning on snooping ( again…) but while coming out, you heard yourself being mentioned in conversation. You would need to gather all the information you could if you wanted to escape the island. You heard the tail end of Sabo’s conversation with…Dragon? Obviously, if Sabo was second in command, the only person who could give him orders was the Supreme Commander, Dragon. You were just surprised to hear the deep voice coming out of the snail, you couldn’t imagine any other Marine had heard it and lived. 
Sabo said you had been involved in ‘Project Angel,’ but you weren’t sure what that was. You’d never worked on anything with that name, but maybe the RA gave their own code names to Marine projects. You weren’t generally working on complete projects, just given assignments that didn’t always link together. How did they know about your work anyway? How did Sabo know your writing style? None of it was published, it was all classified information that only top Marines had access to. 
Your stomach soured as you heard Dragon confirm the conclusion you’d already drawn yourself. Sabo wanted you to work for them, maybe on the assignment you had been assigned when Sabo kidnapped you. Dragon had given him direct orders to get you to complete work for them by gaining your confidence. No wonder Sabo had started touching you and put his hat on your head. He was trying to endear himself to you by any means necessary. You distantly wondered if any of it was real or if it was all engineered to make you fall for him. Anything for the cause, you supposed. You felt dejected, cast aside yet again. 
During your stay on the ship, you’d gotten too comfortable with Sabo, relying on him time and time again. Well, no longer. You were determined to get off the island, get back to the Marines and never see Sabo ever again. Besides, you had started worrying about your family again. They might have heard news that you were kidnapped, which would devastate them. Even more than that, you were anxious about what would happen to them now that your paychecks wouldn’t be coming in. You hadn’t worked for the Marines long enough to have a pension, only a small payout if you died in the call of duty. But since you weren’t confirmed dead, your family wouldn’t be eligible. You chewed on your cuticle as you thought of your sister with EDS, your overworked mother, and your younger siblings. You would either have to escape soon or come up with another way to get money to them. 
You heard Sabo leave the office, the door left open. He did say you could go into any unlocked room in the house. If he didn’t want you going to his office, he would have told you it was off limits or locked it. Peeking out of the door, you made sure Sabo wasn’t there. You darted from the bathroom to the office as quickly as you could. The office was the same as it was when he gave you the house tour in the afternoon. It was small but cozy, with an overstuffed loveseat against one wall, and a large desk that took up most of the space in the room. On the desk were many papers in different piles, sorted by category. There were piles of books and articles about Devil Fruits, some old newspaper clippings, and letters and reports related to the RA. In the corner of the desk was an old photo of him and Ace as kids, with another young boy. That must be the third brother Sabo mentioned once. They looked happy, all their faces squished together smiling. Sabo was wearing a smaller version of the same hat, and he and Ace had lead pipes. It made you think about your own siblings. You chewed on your nail as your hand shook.
On the opposing corner was the snail that Sabo had used to call Dragon. It looked different than snails you’d seen before. You’d never been given your own Marine snail, you just used the office one when you needed to make any calls. Creeping over to the sleeping snail, you put your shaking hand out to wake it up. Maybe you could call your base and tell them that you were alive? Let them know where you were? You were nervous, scared that Sabo would find you and punish you for trying to call for help.
Putting your shaking hand on the snail’s shell, it woke up and waited for you to make a call. You wavered back and forth, unsure what to do. Ultimately, you pulled your hand back, the snail returning to slumber. You didn’t want to waste a good opportunity when you didn’t have information. You didn’t know where you were or any coordinates that could help them find you. The call could be traced but only if you were able to stay on the line for 3 minutes or longer, which you didn’t think you could do without Sabo finding out. No, you’d wait to make a call when you thought it more advantageous. Maybe Ace could be tricked into giving you more information.
Sabo POV
Sabo was proud of you. He knew it wasn’t fair to test you, he knew you were still unsure of what his intentions were. After overhearing his phone call with Dragon, surely you understood that Sabo respected you for your abilities, not just your looks. He watched you extend a shaking hand to the snail, even going so far as to wake it up. You didn’t know, but the snail would only call Dragon, it was a white den den mushi. Chewing your lip, you were at a crossroads but decided not to call. Sabo was happy to see that your trust in him was growing, that you didn’t immediately reach out for rescue. You were starting to accept your place with him and on the island. Maybe you thought to find out more information first, he mused, but Sabo wasn’t foolish. He would only leave the snail out this once, taking it with him when he had to leave. Ace had his own that could call Sabo, you’d be fine.
“Find anything interesting?” Sabo asked, making you squeak. He was leaning against the door jamb, watching you look at his desk. He felt bad for scaring you, but it was hard not to when everything made you jump.
“Oh, uh, n-no, nothing. Just, um, looking. I-it’s ok, right? You said I could?” If Sabo’s soldiers acted like you did when caught, he would send them all back to basic training. But in you it was endearing.
“Of course you can look. Anything that is accessible is available to you. It’s your house too,” Sabo said, smiling kindly at you. You were still nibbling on your lip, making Sabo want to do the same. “You look tired, would you like to go to sleep?”
You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes. Sabo knew you’d be tired since you drank 5 cups of the drugged water. He should tell Ace not to drink it, he thought, otherwise the lug would sleep even more than he already did. But that was tomorrow’s problem. 
“Come, I’ll show you the bedroom.” Sabo crossed the room and took you by the crook of your elbow before you could protest. Yes, it was 15 feet away, but Sabo wanted to touch you as much as he could. He guided you out of the office to your room. You poked your head in.
“There’s - there’s only one bed,” you sputtered. Sabo smiled, tightening his grip on your arm. 
________________________
@nymeriiiia
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kivaember · 11 months ago
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AC coffee shop au idea
i went briefly insane over on twitter but like, big idea for a low energy, self-indulgent fun coffee shop au:
The Redgun Cafe is owned by Michigan who was an ex F1 racer, now retired, and several of his employees are like ppl from his career or just scruffed off the street (Iguazu).
Iguazu is the main barista of Redgun Cafe and he makes THE BEST COFFEE EVER it is ambrosia it's perfect it's just that he's an asshole with a sour personality and no customer service skills whatsoever
Across the street (directly across the street) is the Vesper's Lounge, a rival cafe that's very ritzy, very fancy and expensive. It's owned by Freud who ALSO owns a hobby shop on the same street that sells mecha model kits.
Their main barista is Rusty, who can make a decent enough coffee, but in sharp contrast to Iguazu, is very charming and uses his attractiveness to lure in customers. Also has hidden expert baking skills since his father, Flatwell, owns a bakery
YEAH SO Flatwell owns a bakery on the same street. The food there is legendary. His daughter, Ziyi, helps him run it. Rusty does as well when he's not working at Vesper's Lounge
Rusty works at Vesper's Lounge for two reasons: extra money, and because he gets a discount at Freud's hobby shop. Rusty and Freud are both gunpla enthusiasts. Somehow no one else knows that they're gunpla otaku buddies...
Carla owns a bar on the same street called Carla's Bar, and it's a hole in the wall bar that's sustained only by its regulars. She's fucking loaded though, bc she has other businesses elsewhere too.
Walter and 621 work at Carla's bar as bartenders (Walter also does 'other work' (information brokering) for Carla). 621 is Walter's adopted son as well.
The Hounds (617, 619 and 620) run a garage (owned by Carla) and are regulars to the bar. They've taken 621 under their wing.
Ayre is 621's online friend that lives in another country. They play a lot of online games together and also send each other letters and gifts... they've known each other for many years
Anyway the overall plot of this would be... the zany shenanigans this insane street will get up to. Everyone knows Carla's involved in shady shit - probably criminal! - but they just pretend not to notice. It's much more fun watching Snail and Michigan locks horns over their cafe rivalry while Freud keeps trying to turn Vesper's Lounge into a Mecha Cafe (Snail keeps saying no). At some point 621 and Rusty start dating and it's cute and schmoopy. The end.
I WANNA WRITE THIS...
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tom-foolery-incorporated · 9 months ago
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solomon with a magic pocket pussy that links to yours. him playing with it while you're in public, stuffing you full when you're with the others, keeping you full of his cum and leaving the pocket pussy upside down so it stays inside you
Frothing at the mouth at this ask
NSFW 18+ MDNI, dom Solomon, sub reader, AFAB reader, gender neutral racially ambiguous, masturbation, semipublic, use of a fleshlight
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Smug.
That was how you'd describe your boyfriend. Solomon always seemed a little too pleased with himself, especially in the bedroom. He always loved teasing you and making you squirm. Dirty promises in your ear when you're around others, a slight squeeze to your ass when no one is looking, him blowing air into your ear. Maybe teasing was a better way to describe him?
Either way, Solomon was an incredibly powerful wizard who was no stranger to using magic in the bedroom. Phantom hands cast to grope and finger you while he watches from across the room was a favorite. There was just something about hearing you beg that made him drool. While neither of you were strangers to using sex toys, Solomon proposed something you had only seen in questionable porn.
"I'll cast a spell that will essentially act like a portal allowing your vagina to appear here-" he presented an empty fleshlight "-whenever you wear this underwear."
You stretched the black lace in front of you. Curious, you stuck your finger into the crotch and saw it reappear in the fleshlight. "I'm gonna stick a pencil sharpener into this to mess with you," you joked making Solomon pull on your disembodied finger making your knuckle crack. "Ow! Joking!" you yelped pulling your finger back. Solomon chuckled, "What do you say? Want to try it out?"
And that's how you ended up where you were.
You had gone home after class to relax. Swiftly changing out of your uniform to shower and change into some comfy clothes when there was a sudden knocking on the bathroom door.
"MC! What are you doing? We have a student council meeting in 10 minutes! Hurry up!" Lucifer called out from the hallway.
In a panic, you quickly gathered whatever clothes you could find and ended up grabbing Solomon's enchanted underwear by mistake. Your pussy presented onto the other end of the fleshlight without you even knowing but Solomon immediately took notice. Like a gift, your pussy laid on top of his dresser facing him. Perfectly presented and so unaware of what was to come next.
What was a brutally boring meeting turned sour when you felt a finger slide through your folds. You jumped making a loud gasp earning a peaked eyebrow from Lucifer.
"Did you have something you wanted to add, MC?"
You quickly shook your head as heat ran through your body. Solomon's fingers slowly rubbed your clit in tedious figure eights before slipping back down your labia to push two fingers into your cunt. With a gentle come hither gesture, he rubbed at your G-spot forcing you to cover your mouth to keep from making noise. Solomon found a rhythm between fingering your hole open and rubbing at your clit. When you finally got used to the flow of how your boyfriend touched you, he went ahead and flicked your clit. A mixture of pain and pleasure made you yelp with earned you 9 head turns from the demons in the room.
"Sorry-" You mustered out "I-uh-cramp...Uhm, I think I ate something-" You squirmed feeling Solomon start to suck on your clit. His soft lips and wet tongue tease your sensitive cunt so torturously well.
"If you're not feeling well you can leave," Lucifer reassured you as he regathered the papers in his hands. You nodded holding your hand over your mouth. Two of Solomon's fingers spread your hole apart to prod at your G-spot once again. Your knees locked together as you struggled to hold back your moans.
Using all the strength you could muster within your body, you hoisted yourself up and out of your chair. You quickly pushed the chair in knowing you for sure left a snail trail of your arousal on the cushion. The meeting resumed as you hobbled out of the student council room. The entire time you wandered down the hallway looking for a bathroom, Solomon rubbed at your G-Spot while sucking your clit. You were honestly amazed you were even able to walk but you guessed your motivation to not be seen was stronger than Solomon's fingers.
Solomon couldn't be more happy with himself knowing you had a student council meeting. Such a naughty little whore, wearing your magic underwear when you're supposed to be around others. Images of you trying to suffocate your noises as Solomon played with your pussy played through his mind. At this point, his cock was freed from his pants and resting on his stomach. Solomon lay comfortably sprawled out on his bed with the magic toy in his hand. Two fingers shoved into your hole while he nursed on your clit.
Your orgasm suddenly hit you just in time for you to slam the stall door shut in the empty bathroom. You could feel your juices flowing from your cunt at your release. Finally, Solomon's mouth and fingers retreated from your cunt but you knew better. This was only a tease compared to how he usually fucked you. Then his thick cock started nudging your lips apart. He slid the head of his cock through your soaked labia to prod at your clit before pushing himself inside of your welcoming cunt.
Juicy walls grabbed his shaft with every inch he gave you. Your breathing picked up now that you were alone and able to allow yourself to truly relish in the moment. How hot it would have been to have been caught getting fucked by Solomon like this. You wonder if the demon brothers could have smelled your arousal and heard Solomon fingering you. The thought made you clench around Solomon and grind against his cock.
The wizard was thrusting into the toy with everything he had. He honestly hoped the brothers could hear every squelch your pussy made, every slap of his skin against yours. Solomon's mind shifted from wanting to embarrass and humiliate you in your meeting to showing the demon brothers who you really belonged to. They might have pacts with you but your heart, soul, and pussy were all his.
You leaned on the stall door trying to find purchase against the onslaught of pleasure Solomon delivered to you. You bit your hand trying to muffle the whimpers and moans from deep in your chest. It felt like your whole abdomen was getting pushed up your body with his intensely Solomon fucked you through the toy. Your knees wobbled forcing you to plop onto the edge of the toilet seat.
Then a rush of hot fluid filled your cunt. You could only close your eyes and groan at the feeling of having Solomon empty his seed deep inside you. Your whole body shivered having been denied the build-up to your second orgasm while Solomon slowly, almost torturously slid out of your spent hole. You could feel some of his cum leaking out of you and then his fingers pushing it back inside. With wobbly hands, you reached into your pocket to text the sorcerer. Someone was going to have to come get you because you don't think you can walk right now.
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lionsongfr · 1 month ago
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Riot of Rot Cuisine- Second Course
Since I promised I would do another one when a Plague venue actually came out. Still ended up mostly using items from Gathering. OTL Previous can be found here: link
Eternal Soup Hotpot- the last warrior to die before the peace between Plaguebringer and Gladekeeper had their bones gifted to 10 Plague chefs. From those bones came 10 eternal soups, their cauldrons are never emptied, and their liquid is replenished as needed. Since food can be scarce in the Plaguelands it is customary to bring food items to dip into the pot and devour as hotpot together. The most common items brought are “dung balls” (ground Gigante chicken livers mixed with Wild Onion), Leechroot Mushroom, whole Glass Minnows, and Banded/Land Snails (slurped right out of the shell!)
Bloody Hearts- despite the name this is one of the few non-meat dishes of Plague. A Gryphon's Blood Sempervivum is first steamed and then the center gently scraped away to reveal a clean heart. Wild Onions, Canyon Ruffage, and garlic are sautéed with Flying Butter, and are then simmered with a Sour Strawberry wine.  Grassland Grain breadcrumbs are added before the mixture is stuffed into Sempervivum and baked till golden. A spicy Ashfall Prickler sauce is drizzled on top.
Hellwell Pepper Soup- in the hot and arid air of the Wastelands, Rapheal (a catfish) are dried out in the open. The fish are treated with a mixture of salt and Herbal Plantain to fend off microbes and hungry Bloodfang. To dine on the fish, it must be first be soaked to remove the salt. The soup base is a paste of Blacktongue pepper, Hot Pepper, Wild Onions, garlic, basil, and Cinnamon added to boiling water. The fish is then added to the pot and cooked till tender. Served with boiled Green Plantains or poured over top of mashed Turnips. A searing spice that must be survived to enjoy. 
Mom's Spaghetti and Meat Balls- the meat balls can be made of any meat scraps, but the most common ingredients are ground Maggots and Diseased Fungus, which is fried in Hissing Goose fat to enhance the flavor. The pasta is made of Crisp-Leaf Amaranth, dense and chewy, and topped with a sauce made of Wild Catsup, sour Flying Butter milk, and Desert Sage. A grating of nutritional yeast is often offered to give a cheesy flavor to the dish.
Plague Bat Adobo- colonies of Plague Bats flying is a frequent sight across the Wasteland and are a plentiful food source. The meat is cut up into chunks and first browned in Mushroom Oil. It is then simmered with Wild Onion, garlic, Butcher’s Fig vinegar, Hot Peppers, and soy sauce. The meat is allowed to cook until it is tender and served over a bed of Grassland Grain.  The primary ingredient, vinegar, inhibits the growth of bacteria!
Green Eggs and Ham Omelet- an Undying Featherback is a ferocious beast, and its meat must be cured in separate caverns to keep it from reforming. This valuable ham is used sparingly not just because of its cost, but also its strong and gamey flavor. The omelet starts out by boiling Wasteland Pear nopales, which are then rinsed under cold water and chopped. Wild onions, nopales, and the chopped ham are seared, and then whisked Gigante eggs are added over top. An herbivore friendly version substitutes the ham with the meaty Leechroot Mushroom, while insectivores prefer fried Fungus Cutter pupae.
Wyrm Jelly- when a tendril of the Wandering Contagion breaks off and dies it becomes hollow. Clans carefully collect these tendrils and fill them with a gelatin mixed with blood, Cinnamon, and Herbal Plantain (anti-toxin).  The gelatin is set in the cold desert night before being squeezed out into long tubes of gummies. It is believed that whatever killed the tendril will colonize the gut of the dragon, strengthening them against any new disease.
Beetle Sausage- long strands of Grapevine and Vineyard beetles dipped into concentrated grape juice and then hung to dry like sausages. The colors can vary depending on the type of grape from the Blue Indigo to Orange Autumn. It is a calorie dense treat that warriors often carry into battle to renew their energy. Also, because somehow Plague has grapes?
Snot Shot- Streak’s Dagger herbal liquor is known for its numerous therapeutic properties, caloric values, and bright neon green color. The shot is layered with a red Sugarmelon schnapps (import from Water Flight), followed by the green Streak’s Dagger liquor, and topped with a Wasteland Pear cream liquor…and then a spritz of Sour Strawberry juice. The drink must be downed quickly before the cream and acid of the juice becomes a curdled mess of sick. (though some Plague dragons prefer it that way)
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webslingingslasher · 11 months ago
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcaEksp/
feel like this would send peter into a spiral
-🪼
in an endless sea of red lights, you look over at peter. it’s been a comfortable silence for a few minutes, he’s got his right wrist resting on the steering wheel, his head is leaning all the way back into the headrest.
‘would you rather be a pirate, samurai, or a cowboy?’
peter turns to face you, he’s absentmindedly chewing on the plastic cap from a water bottle. he’s never looked hotter.
‘a pirate. they’re the most free,’ when he feels the need to defend his choice further, ‘the leaders of the seven seas.’
‘you can’t be a captain or anything.’ peter blinks, ‘okay.’ you quirk an eyebrow, he slightly surprised you with his answer, and how quickly he had it ready. ‘not a samurai? really?’
'it could be cool, but samurai's can't act on their own accord, they have masters.' your eyes widen, you didn't know that. 'right. plus, they have to kill themselves if they’re found out.'
peter shakes his head, 'no. seppuku is only done when you dishonor your master, it's not illegal to be a samurai.' you narrow your eyes, 'how do you dishonor them?'
a shrug, the car moves at a snail's pace. you come to another complete stop. 'dishonor someone, don't follow orders, betray your master. you know, the basic things.'
you nod, 'so, pirate?' peter's very confident in his decision. 'yeah. i mean, it's between that or a samurai.' he left out one option entirely.
'not a cowboy?' peter scoffs, 'fuck that.' you laugh, 'no?' peter sours, 'i have no interest in the wild west. it seems terrible, just a bunch of drunk people walking around. and riding horses makes your balls hurt. and all the dust? yeah, leave me the fuck out of that.'
another snail race, you shuffle around, you're going to be stuck in the car for a while. peter peeks over, then at the surrounding night traffic.
'wanna do hand stuff?'
there's nothing going on, you take a chance to look into the car next to you, nothing.
if you can't see them, they can't see you, right?
fuck it. 'sure.' 
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audhdgoku · 2 months ago
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The Reviews Are IN
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Wtf They Whitewashed Cabba
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solongandgoodnightxoxo · 7 months ago
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OKAY GUYS WE’RE GONNA DOA. THINK!!
1 reblog- I commit arson
5 reblogs- i commit arson
10 reblogs- i commit arson
15 reblogs- i commit treason
20 reblogs- i drink ble i mean milk
25 reblogs- i sing class of 2013 while dressed as hatsune miku
30 reblogs- miku miku you can call me miku
35 reblogs- i eat a snail
40 reblogs- i commit arson
45 reblogs- i eat 48 ten dollar bills
50 reblogs- i buy a store and only sell dino nuggets
55 reblogs- i suffocate Todd
60 reblogs- i duel ceasar via time travel
65 reblogs- i feed a victorian child sour candy
70 reblogs- i start selling weed
75 reblogs- i diss eminem
80 reblogs- i go to the grand canyon just to destroy it
85 reblogs- i leave my capitalist identity and start promoting communism
90 reblogs- i battle god
95 reblogs- i eat an entire stick of butter
100 reblogs- i commit arson
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i520u · 1 year ago
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invisible string ʚĭɞೃ⟡
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HIII i’m so sorry this took me so long i just didn’t wanna be unemployed after i’m done with my series so i decided to keep this in the drafts for a while 😞 i hope you’ll like this!
PAIRING sung hanbin x gn!reader
GENRE fluff, sfw
MASTERLIST
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hanbin is a responsible bf, so you can definitely let loose when you’re around him!
he will always makes you feel safe
when you go out on dates with him, he would always silently take your handbag off of your shoulder and carry them himself 😞
his nicknames for you are usually the common ones, baby, my baby, angel, and i think he’d most commonly use 내 사랑 (nae sarang/my love) because it’s so endearing to give your s/o a nickname in your own mother tongue am i right
but he prefers calling you by your name, bc he thinks your name is already pretty
constantly complimenting you
you get your work done and he’s like “good job baby” and then he’d kiss your cheek
you finish mopping the floors and he’s like “you worked so hard today my love, thank you”
the type of boyfriend that will give you legitimate answers to your “would you still love me if i was a worm?” questions
one time you asked him what he would do if you turned into a snail one day
and he told you he’d have to build you nice house where you would be comfortable living in
drives your around ALL the time
he would freak out if you offered him gas money because he really doesn’t mind spending his time, energy, and money with you :(
if you gave him a $10 cash he would applepay you $15
i think hanbin is a great cook, so eating out is very rare for you both because he’s always cooking up a meal for the both of you
if you don’t like a certain taste (sour, salty, sweet, etc) he’d make sure to alter the recipe a little so you’d both be able to enjoy the meal together
hanbin would be cutting up some vegetables, and then you’d come up to him and ask for a kiss, and he would gladly give you a quick kiss before resuming with the meal prep
conflicts with him rarely ever happens
he’s so good at communicating, and he’s just so gentle there’s really nothing to be mad about with him
he trusts you, and he feels secure in the relationship so he never really asks you about your whereabouts. you’re free to hangout with anyone!
all of your friends loves hanbin. he treats you so well, and he’s so polite and can mix around with them, so he’s practically in your friend group too
when you DO get into fights with hanbin, the fight never lasts longer than 2 days. he either apologises first if he realised that he’s in the wrong, or he’ll talk to you and explain why he felt like he was wronged
plus, even when the two of you are fighting, he’d still cook you a good dinner, and you’d still help him clean up all the things he used to make the meal 😭
also on nights where you both had heated arguments, if the situation was okay, he would still wrap his arms around you while you sleep
hanbin never go all out for anniversaries though
rather than fancy dinner date or a big gesture to show his love, it’s more domestic and meaningful
hanbin prefers celebrating your anniversaries together with things like giving you a photobook of all the moments that you’ve spent together
of course he’d buy you a gift too, but his main idea of anniversaries are more domestic
one time he rearranged your house and made a candlelight dinner all by himself for your anniversary, candles, silk tablecloth, fancy steak, he did that all by himself
whenever you get sick, he’d feel bad leaving you alone while he goes to work but duty calls!!!
he would make you text him and update him every 3 hours so that he knows you’re eating well and taking your medicines on time
when HE’S sick he tells you not to worry about him and then he would get flustered when he finds out that you cooked him some healthy soupy foods for him to eat
he thinks you’re so cute when you’re worried over him getting a stupid little cold
when he gets better he would give you so many kisses and cooing at how cute you were when you were taking care of him
honestly he’s always kissing you somewhere, or you’re always kissing him somewhere, it doesn’t matter. he loves kisses
when you say something funny he would laugh and then bring your hand to his lips for no reason?? when you ask him why he’s just like “you’re so funny i just had to kiss you”
when you’re showing him the new top you just bought and then he would just pull you in to kiss the top of your head bc why not
when you kiss him first his ears will go red
he would even be like “why’d you do that”
when you say you just wanted to kiss him he’d giggle and would call you adorable
“my partner is so adorable today, i wonder what’s got into them?”
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fanaticsnail · 6 months ago
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PAULIE for the kissin booth, please!!!! Oh, snail!!!!!! He is sooooo shyyyyyyyyyy, he would only be able to kiss someone if he forces himself so hard...
Paulie, paulie, paulieeeee 😘 come here, sweetheart!!!!!!! 💕 💕 💕
Aaaaaaah!!!! I al already screaming!!!!!!!
The Kissing Booth: Paulie for Jintaka-Hane
Word Count: 670+
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Notes: Not only was this the first request for the kissing booth, but it was my first time writing for this beautiful, shy man. I hope you enjoy your kiss, @jintaka-hane You're always so beautiful in my notifications, and I adore your fics.
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The blindfold brushes against your cheeks as you turn your head towards the guest in front of you. Shuffling several leaves of Berry into the glass jar at your side, you heard a small grunted cough your guest used to clear his throat. 
“I-... I-...” the low, baritone voice called out to you, stuttering and staggering over his words. “...How does this work, exactly? What do I-... How do we-...?” 
His nerves shine through in his cadence, sharp and rumbling stutters staggered in a staccato-like rattle. You smiled at him, slowly presenting your left palm out in front of you while holding your eyes shut behind your silky blindfold. 
Gently and tentatively placing his hand in yours, you heard the scuffle of the wooden barstool scoot in towards you. The scent of heady aftershave mixed with undertones of ignited tobacco flooded your senses, his aura feeling anxious and nervous with each passing moment. Lulling your head to the side, you feel his hand tremble within your own. 
“Are you okay?” you ask him in a soft hum, furrowing your brows at his apprehensive body language. You could feel the gulp he took to choke back the dry mouthful in response. 
“I’m… I just-...” he stuttered, deeply sighing and moving closer to you, “I don’t do this. Not normally, I mean. You just… You looked so…” His voice trailed off, his hand gently squeezing your fingers in reassurance. 
“So “what”?” you leaned your chin up to where his voice was lingering, “I looked so “what”?”. You could hear a soft stutter in his breath, prompting you to smile with a soft, teasing hum.
“...So beautiful,” you could feel his lips lingering with his soft whisper, “And so lonely. Like you needed me to be here.” You gently scrunch your nose playfully up at him, lulling your head to the side.
“You’re here now,” you hum at him, your lips parted and waiting, “Do you want to kiss me-?” 
“-Yes,” he hurriedly whispered to cut off your string of words, his hand gently cupping your cheek and tugging you a little closer, “So much. So, so much-.”
Without further warning, he pressed his lips to yours hurriedly and desperately. His lips were chapped, tasting of seaspray and lingering sour cigars. He whimpered into your lips, angling his chin and turning his face, pressing a flurry of peppered kisses into your lips. 
His actions felt ill-practiced and inexperienced, but his enthusiasm made up for his lack of ‘kiss-training’. Releasing your hand from his, he partnered his palm on your other cheek, drawing you in closer by cupping both sides of your face. 
You fought the urge to giggle into his lips, gently reaching forward and placing your hands on his forearms. Tracing gentle patterns onto the material of his jacket-sleeves with your thumbs seemed to ease his nerves. He relaxed into the kiss, his lips only ever parting to change angles to taste more of your lips on his.
Pulling away, he gently held your face out in front of him and paused for a moment.
“Would you mind if you took the blindfold off?” he asked, his lips almost touching your lips with every word due to his close proximity. “I want to look into your eyes. I-... I need to look into your eyes.” 
“My shift ends in a few hours here,” you uttered with a small giggle in your tone, “If you still want to see me, I’ll be standing under the ferris wheel all by myself.” 
“I’ll be there,” he whispered, scuffing the floor with the stool legs as he stood. You gently waved in his direction as he slowly fled the scene, looking over his shoulder at you as he saw your smile linger on. 
Paulie was absolutely smitten with you. Not only was he waiting beneath the ferris wheel at the end of your shift on the kissing booth before you arrived, he was holding an assortment of treats in his hands and ready to take a spin around the large mechanism with you right by his side. 
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yellow-computer-mouse · 3 days ago
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oughhh thank you little snail
can someone come actually like talk to me and reassure me
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