Tumgik
#based on request
tizeline · 4 months
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Draw rottmnt donnie and rottmnt leo fighting
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The word “fight” can be interpreted a number of ways, so you get one drawing of the two of them doing some friendly sparring and one where they’re just having a stupid sibling fight
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konigsblog · 2 months
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loser-könig and loser-reader :((
cw: harassment, creepy behaviour.
reader being more socially awkward, staying away from big, public groups, avoiding eye contact at all costs, acting like a pathetic loner in the corner...
meanwhile, könig is much more cocky and has a level of false confidence. he'll drool at the sight of attractive women in revealing clothing, being a total creep and harassing them for their number, being so creepy and desperate for sex, only to get slapped away and have a drink thrown at him. he's frustrated, drunk and pissed off at a party. he doesn't even know who invited him – if he even was invited – and just as he's about to leave, his eyes land on the pathetic, little thing in the corner, avoiding conversations and sipping on a beer.
his infatuation with you began as he laid his eyes on you. könig isn't the best with keeping a conversation going, but you'd listen to him rant about whatever, and könig couldn't seem to keep his mouth closed. he befriended you, deciding that he'd just perv on you instead, grope your body when he was horny, rubbing his hard boner against you in an attempt to signal he wanted you to be his fuck buddy!!
after becoming best friends, you'd taunt each other, mocking each other for being a freak...
you're both virgins, teasing each other for being losers while you grind against his thigh to rile him up, giggling about how he's not lost his virginity. you're not exactly one to speak, when you're a filthy perverted virgin as well – getting off to the fantasies in your head, dreaming about getting fucked by your best friend, könig, crying pathetically into your pillows.
and könig hears you; your sobbing and the soft mutters of his name, crying for him to fuck you, while you stuff your fingers into your swollen cunt, könig jerking off in the next room from yours ... :(
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betweendyingstars · 10 months
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James and Regulus with baby Harry
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lazer-t · 5 days
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Mononykus olecranus for a $15 Ko-fi supporter
Stickers
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gomzdrawfr · 1 month
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pampered
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rayactive-factory · 8 months
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sacharinee · 10 months
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pranking peter asking him to try not to annoy you today has me crying
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pairing: bf!peter parker x reader
w/c: 600
a/n: hiii anon thank u very much for requesting! based on that trend on tiktok :)
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you’re feeling mean today.
after waking up so early, you’ve scrolled through countless videos of girls pranking their boyfriends with just a simple line, and seeing their priceless reactions.
and what better use of your time than to prank your ever so lovely boyfriend.
you’re up in the bathroom, washing your face and getting your makeup done for the day when peter walks in to greet you.
“g’morning baby,” he mumbles and wraps an arm around the side of your hip, sloppily kissing the side of your forehead.
you take a look at him through the mirror. he’s got bedhead, his curly hair all messy, shirt wrinkled, and he’s rubbing his squinty eyes from the bright lights. his cute little pout makes your heart skip a beat and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do. 
“hi petey,” you greet, you’ve got your brush in one hand, blending out the makeup on your skin.
and he’s reaching for his toothbrush, squirting some toothpaste on when he asks you, “d’you sleep good?”
“it was okay,” you respond with a shrug.
“just okay? what happened, y/n/n?" he asks, his voiced laced with concern.
you tap your fingernails on the countertop as you take a deep breath, “look, pete, i have a big day ahead, so can you just try not to annoy me today please?”
peter freezes as his jaw goes slack with the toothbrush in his mouth. his eyes stare up at you in shock and confusion while you’re none the wiser, looking straight ahead, curling your lashes up closely against the mirror, “what’d you say?”
you let out a sigh as you switch out the curler for mascara, “i said, try not to get on my nerves today.”
"today? but the day just started," he's dumbfounded when he looks at you.
you shrug in response, "still. you've been really annoying lately."
you resist from looking at peter. one quick glance and you know you would break.
“oh…” the boy mumbles, looking down at the sink confused, trying so hard to figure out where he went wrong, “m’ sorry.” you feel like a monster.
but when peter steps back to sneak a peek at you, he notices your uncomfortable stance. you’re squeamish, biting your lip, as you avoid eye contact with him. 
his eyes narrow down at your figure, “and how exactly have i annoyed you lately?”
you take a second to think of a example, “just, everything. like right now, when you ruined my makeup or when you’re asking me stupid questions.”
“stupid questions? ruined your makeup? wait, what, you mean when i kissed you good morning??” your boyfriend laughs in amusement. 
“m’ just saying.” 
“huh okay,” peter spits the toothpaste out in the sink, “you wanna talk about silly questions?" he wipes his mouth with a rag and turns towards you, gets up real close to the side of your face.
you pinch your brows towards him, “what are you-”
“who was the one that asked me if italy was in spain?”
“peter-”
“or if milan was in germany?”
“are you ser-”
“or if australia and austria were the same thing?”
“peter!”
“i’m just saying!” he’s mocking you, a smug smirk on his face, and he knows he’s got you.
“yea whatever, einstein,” you bump him out of the way wanting to use the mirror next. you’re crabby your little prank backfired while peter’s having the time of his life, laughing at your embarrassment. 
he stands behind you wrapping his big arms around your front and resting his chin down on your shoulder. he’s got this irritating sardonically sweet smile on his face that makes you wanna kiss or slap it off, you can’t decide. he’s gazing with loving eyes at you’re adorably grumpy pout in the mirror and kissing the side of face, smudging your makeup once more.
“it’s okay baby, you can get on my nerves all you want.”
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xxri · 29 days
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prsk requests and one milgram
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centaurianthropology · 11 months
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One thing that I think a lot of Disco Elysium meta misses (likely because a lot of it is very clearly written by young Americans writing from an intensely American-centric cultural perspective without even really realizing it) is that one of the singular and central themes of the game is massive-scale generational trauma in a home that is economically collapsing as its resources and people are being drained by an occupation.  People have noted that no one tries to help Harry, despite the fact his mental illness is incredibly obvious to everyone around him.  He tells Kim that he completely lost his memory, and Kim politely asks him to focus on the work.  He tells Gottlieb that he had a heart attack, and Gottlieb tells him that if he’s still alive it couldn’t have been that bad.  That he’ll drop dead sooner or later, but then so does everyone.
And that’s the most important thing: so does everyone.  Look at Martinaise.  Look at the world in which Harry lives.  It is not our own, but it is adjacent to ours.  More specifically, it is clearly adjacent to the states of the Eastern Bloc: overtaken and occupied by a faraway government that clearly doesn’t care about Revachol or its people.  And that is obvious in every tired face, every defeated citizen, everyone trying to eke out a little happiness or meaning in spite of the overwhelming trauma and damage around them.  The buildings are still half-destroyed.  The bullet holes are still in the walls.  The revolution was decades before, but it still feels to the people there like a fresh wound.  The number of men of Harry’s generation who are not alcoholic or otherwise deeply fucked up are very few.  Some, like Kim, hide it better, but the deeper you dig into his history, the more you realize how damaged Kim is.  He’s more than a little trigger happy, and hates that about himself, but he is a product of his environment: Kim’s entire life is seeing people he cared about shot and killed, so his instinct now is to shoot first himself, to protect those few people left who still matter to him.
Harry is not unique in his trauma.  He is a distillation of an entire culture of people who tried to rise up and make something beautiful, and were instead routed and occupied.  He is trapped between the occupation and the people on the ground, along with all the rest of the RCM.  Their authority comes from the occupying government, but it is implied that they were formed out of the remnants of the citizens militia which sprung up from Revachol itself as a way to try to mitigate some of the horrors being committed on its streets.  The Moralintern sure as hell wasn’t going to get their hands dirty, so they happily conscripted (and therefore could better control) this group, who are only recognized in certain places, and whose authority mostly amounts to giving out fines.  The RCM is corrupt, but it is corrupt in the same way its culture is.  Bribes are considered standard with them, not a moral failing, but a necessity, so long as those bribes are correctly logged as ‘donations’.  It’s how the RCM stays afloat, and the rest of Revachol completely understands that.  Everyone would take a bribe if it meant they kept eating.  Everyone would take a little under-the-table money if it meant keeping a roof over their heads.  The officersof the RCM certainly don’t make enough to see a doctor.  They have an in-house lazarus, and if he can’t fix them they just die.  Mental health care?  What mental health care?  Harry doesn’t get it for the same reason no one else does: it doesn’t really seem to exist.  There are no counselors, no psychologists, no psychiatrists.  How would they even start?  If the world is what is broken, if everyone is suffering a similar catastrophic amount, it makes sense that Harry’s trauma would simply get rolled up with all the rest.  Kim asks him to get on with the job because Harry’s suffering is not remarkable in Revachol.  He is one of an entire generation who have an astronomical number of orphans from the revolution, and so many younger people are left more or less orphans as their parents drink themselves into oblivion like Cuno’s father.  So Harry’s truly unique attribute is embodying all that trauma, having it all inside of him, filling him to bursting.
To really engage with the themes of the game, engaging first and foremost with the reality of Revachol is imperative.  Imposing our own reality onto Revachol, particularly if coming from an American perspective (which tend to have the habit of both viewing the world through an American lens and not realizing they’re doing it because they’ve never experienced a different lens), will always feel shallow to me because of this.
All that is to say, I would love to hear some more explicitly European meta about this game, and especially Eastern European meta.  If anyone can point me to some good, juicy essays from that perspective, I would be grateful!
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evilballoondog · 3 months
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tubbytarchia · 4 months
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Art request, if you have the time - I don't know if you're doing the fandom trait swap ask game, but if you are, something really cute would be to swap the traits from your two main pairs - fire moth Tango and sheriff centaur Jimmy!
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HOW COULD I POSSIBLY RESIST SUCH A REQUEST
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niinnyu · 6 months
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"Eheh" :P
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blitheringbongus · 22 days
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I think skizz would look super cool in your style!
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Ty! I had a lot of fun with this one, I don’t really watch him but from what I’ve seen from other peoples videos he seems like a pretty fun guy
(Without glow under the cut!)
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mblue-art · 6 months
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late halloweeen dooodleee
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starfinss · 4 months
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I loved your recent zoro gif :) I’d like to request a fem ready x zoro nsfw where maybe a girl flirts with him and reader gets really jealous but he fucks female reader infront of the girl…sorry if that’s insane i’m having major zoro brain rot :p
Ah, thank you! I was really nervous to post that fic since it was my first time ever writing Zoro, and I wasn’t at all confident in the quality, so it’s a huge relief to hear that you liked it so much. Anyway, this ask got me thinking, so you got it.
NSFW under the cut!
— ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ
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“Don’t look now,” Nami said, “but some girl is all over Zoro.”
You looked up from your drink and across the bar, to the table where Zoro was sitting. Sure enough, there was indeed a girl. She was wearing a tiny little red dress, one that hugged her curves like she’d been poured into it. A pair of black heels were on her feet, making her long legs look even longer. Her hair was black as spilled ink, worn loose around her narrow shoulders. From this angle, you couldn’t see her face, but you were certain it had to be just as gorgeous as the rest of her.
Nevertheless, you took a gulp of your drink. This wasn’t uncommon. It was no secret that your boyfriend was an attractive man, and while his looks intimidated some, there were a fair few like this girl who took their chances anyway. But you weren’t worried. Anyone who knew Zoro knew he only had eyes for you.
“It’s fine,” you said, “he won’t let it get too far.”
“Oh?” Nami countered, “she’s on his lap now.”
Your head snapped up. “She’s what?”
Nami gestured with a tilt of her head, and you followed her gaze. Just as she said, the girl had settled herself onto Zoro’s knee, and just as you’d thought, she was incredibly beautiful. Big, doe eyes and full lips, painted vibrant red to match her dress. And she was laying it on thick. Eyelashes batting, plump lower lip catching between perfect white teeth, slim arms wrapping around Zoro’s body. You ignored the flush of anger that briefly clouded your mind.
You trusted Zoro. You knew it would be any second before he shoved her off of him, or before his lack of response to her flirting caused her to lose interest.
Nami cleared her throat.
Because then, the girl was leaning close to him, lips grazing his jaw, and before you knew what you were doing, you were standing up and crossing the bar, the buzz of alcohol giving you confidence.
“Excuse me,” you said, and you felt so silly, getting jealous like this, but she was all over him, and the way she looked at you, down her nose like you were less than her, it made your blood boil.
“Yeah?” She said, a laugh on her lips, arms tightening around Zoro, and you felt your anger grow white hot.
“You’re in for it, now,” Zoro said, mirth in his eyes, and you glared at him as he took a swig from his mug of beer, completely unaffected by the girl’s flirting.
“Oh, am I?” She said, clearly taking what Zoro said as a joke, but you knew him well enough to know that he was merely interested in what you were doing.
“You’re in my seat,” you said, and you watched her doe eyes flash in amusement as she shuffled closer to your boyfriend, who did no more than lean away from her, clearly uninterested.
“Am I?” She asked, coy, “I think I’ll keep it.”
“Zoro,” you said, “what do you think of that?”
Zoro’s eyes met yours, and then he was gesturing towards the door with his head, subtly enough that only you saw what he was doing. You stared at him, puzzled.
“Hey,” he said, and though he was turned towards her, his eyes were on you, “meet me outside in ten minutes. In the alleyway.”
She looked at you, smugly, as she rose from Zoro’s lap.
“Looks like you’ve been replaced,” she cooed, her grin devious as she passed you, shoulder bumping yours as she made her way to the back of the bar, surely to freshen up in the bathroom. But Zoro had other plans.
As soon as she was out of sight, he was downing the rest of his beer, even if there was still a substantial amount left, and then he standing to take your hand, quickly leading you out the door.
“I know you’re not taking her into the alleyway,” you said, and Zoro laughed.
“No,” he said, “I’m taking you into the alleyway.”
Giddiness mixed with nerves twisted together in the pit of your stomach as Zoro’s grip on your hand grew tighter. Logically, you supposed you should have guessed what Zoro was doing the second he brought up the alleyway, and you should have fully expected him to pull something like this, yet you were still a little surprised he was actually doing it.
“Were you seriously jealous?” Zoro said, lips dragging along the curve of your jaw as your back made contact with the alley wall. He’d tugged you behind a stack of crates, out of sight just enough that someone who wasn’t looking wouldn’t be able to spot you. Nevertheless, you still felt rather exposed.
“No,” you said, head falling back, and he huffed a laugh against your skin.
“Liar.”
You gasped softly when his teeth grazed the spot where your jaw met your throat, tongue passing over your pulse point, making heat rush down your body, aided by the alcohol already in your system.
“Am not,” you countered, with no actual firmness, and Zoro chuckled, hands finding your waist and slipping beneath the tight fabric of the slightly midriff bearing top you were wearing.
“Are, too,” he murmured, “c’mon, babe, you know you’ve got no competition.”
“She’s so beautiful,” you said, arms slinging around his shoulders, and he moved up to look at you.
“She can’t even compare.”
And he was kissing you. You sighed against his mouth, hands tangling into his hair, back arching as his hands slid down your body to rest on your hips. He hiked up your skirt, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist before breaking away to trail kisses down your throat again. You helped him push up your shirt, and he merely rucked your bra up above your breasts instead of bothering to remove it. When his palm pressed against your bare skin, you had to bite back a whine.
“Someone will see us,” you protested, albeit weakly, and he chuckled darkly, tweaking a nipple between two calloused fingers.
“That’s the point.”
The prospect of that thrilled you more than you wanted to say, some carnal part of you actually pleased that the girl who was all over your boyfriend would see you like this, see him like this, completely enamored with you in a way he’d never be with her.
It was primitive and petty, and you knew it, but damn it if it wasn’t hot as hell.
Zoro’s mouth pressed against the top of your breast, lips finding your nipple, and you covered your mouth as he rolled it under his tongue, forced to bite down on your palm as his hips rolled against yours. You could feel him through his slacks, already halfway hard, and the thought that this thrilled him just as much as you only turned you on even more.
You felt his mouth on yours again, and when his tongue licked against the seam of your lips, you gladly parted them, tangling even further with him. His hand squeezed at your breast gently, thumb rubbing over your nipple, and he swallowed down your cry of pleasure, hips rutting up against you.
His hand slid between your thighs, dipping into your panties, and you whimpered against his mouth as he ran his middle finger against you, aided well by the soak of your arousal. Your back arched when he sank a finger inside of you, breath leaving you when his palm ground against your clit. Another finger was added, and you keened at the stretch, hips bucking against his hand.
Zoro knew just where to touch, just how to make you lose your mind. He whispered soft praises as you rolled your hips against his hand, mouth surely leaving marks on your exposed throat, his hot breath fanning against your skin and sending forks of lightning down your already electrified skin.
“Zoro,” you cried, “just fuck me already.”
He laughed against your skin, fingers curling inside of you.
“That what you want? Yeah?”
You nodded quickly, fingers knotting in the fabric of his shirt, and when he pushed his own fingers deeper, you had to fight back a whimper of bliss.
“Then hold onto me.”
He withdrew his fingers, the resulting sound a wet schlick that would’ve been embarrassing under any other circumstances, but as he lifted your leg, pinning it against his hip, you hardly cared, especially as he pushed your panties aside to expose you to him.
Zoro wrestled with his belt, and you reached forward to help him, freeing his cock and catching it in your hand. He groaned softly as you stroked him, tugging gently to guide him towards you.
“So impatient,” he chided, and you nipped at his throat in retaliation.
“Take responsibility for it, it’s your fault,” you countered, and he snorted in amusement.
“I’m not the one who got so jealous.”
You lifted your hips, aiding him as he slowly pressed forward, filling you in a slow, easy thrust.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the word drawn out with the sound, “you feel so perfect.”
He thrust forward once, then again, and your head fell back against the wall of the alleyway, leaving your throat exposed for him to attach his mouth to. When his teeth sank into your flesh, you whined, the sound turning into a moan when he rolled his hips, the stretch of him inside of you almost too perfect.
Your arms wrapped tight around his neck, and when you muffled another cry, you felt his thumb run over your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth. He always had this effect on you, driving you so completely insane, yet you were completely addicted, and in absolutely no hurry to kick that addiction.
“Faster,” you pleaded, and he grunted as he hiked your leg higher on his hip, hips snapping forward and scattering your thoughts to the wind.
“Zoro, Zoro, fuck—”
He groaned in response, breath uneven as his grip on your thigh grew tighter, and his free hand was slipping between you, the rough pad of his thumb finding your clit. The action sent a jolt up your spine, forcing you to tighten around him, and you struggled to swallow back your yelp of surprised pleasure. He was filling you so fucking well, and your mind was empty except for thoughts of him, the feel of his fat cock splitting you open.
“You take it so pretty,” he praised, voice a low rumble, and you could do no more than whine as he pushed deeper, hips angled to hit the spot that made you see stars.
The leg supporting you was beginning to tremble, but Zoro shifted closer, borderline pinning you against the wall with his hips as he fucked into you, the cool night air filled with the slick sound of him moving in and out of you, uncaring of who heard. You muffled another whine, and he was kissing you hard, thumb pressing harder against your clit, and your head felt like it was full of intoxicating fog.
“Feels good?” Zoro breathed, “yeah?”
You nodded, moaning almost pitifully, back arching as he rubbed circles against your clit, making you tighten around him.
“You’re the only one who does this to me,” he said, kissing your jaw, “you know that, yeah?”
You nodded again, letting out a strangled whine as he rolled his hips just right, reeling from the sensations, and you could feel your climax building, burning low in your stomach, making you toss your head back, gasping, utterly breathless.
“Were you waiting long— oh.”
Both of your heads snapped towards the new voice, and you felt shame mix hot with arousal as you took in the sight of the girl in the red dress standing beside the crates that hid you and Zoro from view, shock emblazoned across her pretty features. You watched her swallow, clearly embarrassed, and Zoro took that chance to thrust roughly up into you, forcing a thin, breathy moan from your throat.
He curled closer to you, pressing hard onto your clit, and you wanted to hide your face as he picked up his pace. He was glaring at her, even as he throbbed inside of you, almost possessive, showing her just how little he cared about her advances. It was intoxicating, in a way that made you burn with both embarrassment and excitement.
“Get lost,” he snarled, rutting up into you again, making you gasp.
The girl swallowed again, face as scarlet as her dress, and she was scurrying off, tail between her legs.
Zoro’s pace picked up, and any other thoughts were ejected from your mind as he focused solely on what he was doing to you.
“She won’t bother us again,” he rasped, “this is all I need, this pussy. You think she can compare? Huh?”
You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut, and fuck, you were getting close, legs shaking as he pushed against your clit harder, thick cock filling you so perfect, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You whined between your teeth as he drove you closer, fingers digging into his shoulders, hips bucking against him.
“That’s it,” he urged, “that’s it, cum on my fuckin’ cock.”
That did it. You had to bite down on his shoulder as you came, your orgasm tearing through you, making you clamp tight around him, and he was swearing against your skin, hips stuttering at the sudden tightness. He slowed his thrusts, helping you through the aftershocks of your climax, and you sobbed in pleasure as he rolled your clit slowly under his thumb, prolonging the blissful feel of it all.
“Shit— shit!”
Zoro growled against your skin as he chased his own release, hips unrelenting, and you gasped as you clung to him, trembling and oh-so sensitive. You could do no more than chant his name, muffled by his shoulder, tears beading your lash line.
“Cumming,” he blurted, voice strained, “‘m cumming—”
He pressed all the way forward, stuffing you full, and he was gushing inside of you, stuffing you full. You could feel the heat of it blooming deep inside, and you moaned, eyes rolling back, fucked completely dumb.
The alleyway was quiet as the two of you caught your breaths, the silence only punctuated by labored breath, and then Zoro was kissing you, initially frenzied, but slowing down into passionate and tender. Your hands cupped his cheeks, sliding to lace into the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
Slowly, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours for a few moments before pulling out and tucking himself back into his trousers. He helped you fix your own clothing before tugging you close, resting his chin on the top of your head.
“I love you,” you said, eyes closed, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
“I love you, too.”
After you finished recovering, he put an arm around your waist, leading you back into the bar. Your legs were wobbly, so he let you lean against him somewhat, guiding you to the table he’d been sitting at before. You settled yourself into his lap when he sat down, and he wrapped his arms around you, the position comfortable and natural.
You could feel that girl’s eyes on you, and when you looked over at her, she quickly pretended she wasn’t watching, busying herself with what she was drinking. You heard Zoro snicker, obviously pleased with what he’d just done.
You couldn’t help but smile yourself, stealing closer. You never had any need to feel threatened.
Zoro made sure of that.
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rboooks · 10 months
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Can you write a dead on main? Something with a bookstore au please!
Now that I know the ship names, you bet I can! I'll try my best to get through the ones I got requested in the past few days.
Jason liked bookstores.
They were a safe haven for him as a child, even when the fancier ones chased him off when he became a street kid. He adores the various series, the smell of books, and the quiet of stores. Often he thought that they were a small pocket to escape reality.
He had always known he could escape between the pages when everything had been terrible.
Maybe that's what lead him to this store even if it was a bit odd.
It was out of the way by the old docks that Joker used to run, thus making it condemned to the rest of the populace.
An old warehouse turned into a three-story bookstore. The entire first floor was aisles placed in side-way lines with the main counter as its center. The second floor had cozy reading nocks, plush futon couches, pillows, and blankets, complete with a small cafe. The rule was that anyone could take a book off the second-floor walls to read for free.
Employees asked to be informed if any food or damage was done to the second floor since the second book only had one copy of each. The owner would pull one off the bottom floor shelves to replace it.
The final floor had various reading rooms, but Jason loved that each room was based on a book. The room was professionally decorated to the point it left visitors feeling like they actually stepped into the world of the book.
Sculptures, playable settings, phenomenal little details the hard die fans could spot, and even sound systems playing sounds that sounded like the world. Jason could only compare it to Disney World or universal studios. The fact that people could rent the rooms for an hour for only fifteen dollars made them much more popular.
The third-floor rooms- ten in total- would rotate between series after a few months. Hence, the rooms were always different, but inside them were recommended books with the same kind of theme that was always the perfect recommendation, or maybe people just wanted to explore a room of their favorites.
Jason had visited the strange little bookstore with Tim after his brother had gone on a date with Bernard there.
Tim and Barnard had rented the "Hogwarts common rooms" room for three hours. Jason had been amazed by how real the four standard rooms looked, how there were even dragons spitting fire in one corner, moving portraits, a sorting hat ceremony, a small teddy bear decorating corner, and even a wand building second. All for only fifteen dollars. Tim had practically been glowing when he came home with his Ravenclaw bear and his own wand.
And maybe Jason is a huge Harry Potter fan; perhaps it was one of the first things he boned with Tim over, so maybe his brother had taken him to have an experience that he compared to the first time Bruce took him to Universal Studios.
Then he ran into the owner while one of the employees had been helping him pick runes to have burned into his wand.
Jason started to come back for an entirely different reason.
"Hi, Jason!" Elle says when she sees him climbing the stairs toward the third floor. She's the store's co-owner and has gotten to know him on a first-name basis due to how often Jason has visited the store in the past year. If they made a reward points system, Jason knows he be the highest one on the chart.
She's sitting at a table that is decorated like a galaxy. The books for these quarters' room themes are on the table's surface, all with a door key under them and a clipboard for the various hours.
Jason's eyes land on Pride and Prejudice, and his heart leaps.
"Hi, Elle. What's the wait time for door seven?"
She smiles, flipping the clipboard to the time slots. "The Ball at Netherfield Park has a lot of openings today. I got a three, four, six, or seven. When shall I fit thee dance card in milord?"
Jason laughs and checks his phone, ensuring he doesn't need to do anything for a while before saying. "Three will be fine. It's only thirty minutes. I'll go get a coffee while I wait."
She nods, writing his name down for three. She then passes him some disclosure forms he has to sign, forgoes the long-winded explanation of the rules, and sends him on his way, promising to send him a reminder text.
"Just so you know, Ball at Netherfield Park comes with a unique costume option. Five extra dollars to go through our costume section, and you can dress up like Mr. Darcy for a full hour."
Jason shakes his head though it's a very tempting offer. "Thanks, Elle but I'm okay with my street clothes today."
The other shrugs and checks her nails- their asexual theme today, he notes- before nonchalantly commenting. "Too bad. Danny really wanted someone to cosplay with him. Jane Austin's books are less prevalent in Gotham than we thought, and he's been dying to wear his Mr. Bingley outfit. I thought you like to, so I told him to come over when you arrive, but I can text him to cancel-"
"Five dollars, you said? For the full outfit or just like a coat?" Jason ignores her smug expression and quickly places a twenty on the table.
"Full outfit. What do you take us for?"
He glares at her just as the man of the hour himself runs up the stairs. Danny Fenton, founder, and co-owner of Ghost Zone Reads. He's in a light blue Regency period man coat that makes his eyes pop. A pair of white pants that hug his hips and thighs in all the right places, black knee boots, and a black gentle top hat.
Jason's knees go weak at the sight of him.
Danny's face is flush from the run, but his whole face lights up when he sees his sister and her guest. "Jason! I'm so glad you choose the Ball at Netherfield Park experience. I can't wait for our dance."
"Dance?" Jason chocks. Elle chuckles.
"You can't experience a Ball at Netherfield without the ball part dingus." She waves a hand at her brother. "Told him Dick canceled on you, so he offered to step in."
Jason never even mentions Dick to her but he's not about to call her out on her lie. She's doing him such a big favor.
"I always wanted to go to a Jane Austin ball!" He says instead, mentally wincing at how lame he sounds. Thankfully Danny's eyes only light up even more as the other man starts explaining the instructional videos installed in the ballroom mirrors so they can learn the real moves of Contra Dancing.
Jason falls just a tad bit more.
(Elle watches with a fond smile as Jason and Danny get lost in Austin's most significant works. She quickly texts her allies in Wayne Manor under the table. This is a big step in the "Make us in-laws" operation; the Fenton and Wayne children started a few months back. They were all tired of watching Danny and Jason dance around each other. Damian's idea to use Jason's favorite author was working fabulously.)
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