Formerly @mistress92 but I got locked out so here we are. Also be aware I'm 18+, this blog isn't explicity not safe for minors but I'm an adult blogging so yeah.
- ❝request; You're shorter than your man, too short to reach for a kiss unless you tiptoe, tug on his collar and have him lean down for you, that is.❞
˚₊‧꒰ა Tags ໒꒱ ‧₊˚: Suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, short!reader; SFW. Reader is she/her. 𓂃۶ৎ wc: 300 for each seperate fic, roughly.
₊˚ʚ Characters/status: Rob Lucci, Sir Crocodile, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Roronoa Zoro (established relationship ˖ ໒꒱)
❝ ᝰ.ᐟ note: Oda make Mlem and Lucci canon already, thanks! >ᴗ<❞
Rob Lucci 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
He gave you a brow. Hands in his pocket, wearing a dark suit and watching you with darker eyes.
“Have you no dignity?” His voice is flat, cold but you don’t care.
You keep tiptoeing, lips still pouting and hands fisting his shirt. Pulling him. “Robbie… please, just one kiss.”
His brow line creases. Half-offended. “Don’t… call me that.”
You hum, going back to your feet. Pouting.
He’s not indulging you. Not moving one inch to kiss your lips.
Fine then.
It’s war.
You’ll nag him till he gives in.
“Luuuuci, pleaseee,” you whine out and he sighs through his nose as you keep tiptoeing up.
No answer. Just condescension seeping through his gaze.
You keep tugging, whining and only when you hear Kaku’s voice calling you both from a distance do you stop. Glancing to the source of his echo. And when you let go of Rob’s collar, eyes drifting away to the distance and heels padded fully on the floor—does he place a hand on your jaw, sliding your face to meet his gaze.
And you blink.
long, dark hair trail down your face. Tickling your shoulders, as one smooth motion of his hand slide down your hips to the small of your back, bringing you up to meet his lips.
Rob’s calloused fingers digs into your flesh, forcing a whine to leave your mouth, which he seals with a kiss. muffling you.
And the kiss is not soft but raw—pushing, claiming, forcing you to lean back so to retain footing but his hand on your jaw has made its way to the back of your hair. Forcing you deeper into his kiss.
And when Kaku’s footsteps trudge closer, only then does Rob part from you—lips clicking, strings of saliva between your tongue as he straightens himself, and your cheeks burn at the sight of his face.
Smug, cocky and entirely pleased with himself.
Jerk.
Sir Crocodile 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
Sir Crocodile was giving you a look… quite similar from what he gives that tardy clown except there is a hint of amusement in it. But only a hint.
You were pulling on his vest, frowning.
It’s been ten whole minutes and he’s not budging.
Meanie.
“Sir… please.”
He gives you a brow, a corner of his grin going up.
“Please, what?”
Your cheeks burn flushed. “You know what.”
He tilts his head to the side, ash falling off his cigar. “No, I don’t. Indulge me.”
Your knuckles clenches, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
He’s taunting you! What a rude little….
“You look like you’re about to explode, need a hand with anything?”
“You—…” You bite your tongue, trying to tiptoe even higher, pull his shirt even harder.
You start growing frustrated and embarrassed, but he’s been so handsome the whole day, you can’t imagine yourself leaving without kissing him—but it’s been a whole ten minutes, and still! He’s not budging.
The frustration starts to make you teary, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt so hard you feel like you’re going to tear it off of him and only then—when your eyes start glaze with tears, and your breathing starts growing hot with fury, does he lean in.
Arms unfolding. One last smoke taken before the cigar is dropped to the ground. Hook landing around your waist, tugging you closer as he grabs your ass, ringed fingers digging into the soft of your flesh as he lifts you up by the back.
Meeting his lips.
The kiss is soft, faint—until you press deeper, further, growing desperate enough that his tongue skims over your lips. Your heart starts beating out of your chest, hard and erratic as the kiss grows hotter, heavier, wet sounds escaping you both.
And when he parts? Setting you down by the ground?
It’s all smugness and adoration.
His larger hand making it to the side of your face.
“Be a good girl and fetch a new cigar in my jacket for me.” his voice rasps, thumb rubbing your lower lip.
And that’s all he has to offer for you to pad across the room. Face completely burnt.
Trafalgar D. Water Law 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
“What are you doing.”
“What does it look like, Law!?” You huff out, toes starting to ache as you try and tiptoe further up. And Law looks at you like he should take pity on you or mock you completely.
“Law, please, just—”
“Just what?” He muses, smirk coming into place and your cheeks burn.
“Please. Just, one kiss,” your voice comes out soft, too soft and it makes him want to tease you harder.
“Why should I? Last time I checked, you called me a jerk.”
“That was two days ago!”
“And still no apology.”
You clutch onto his collar with both of your hands, trying to tug him down but he’s not budging, and the smug grin of his isn’t either.
“please Law…”
“go on, please what?”
Your brows pull, face turning into fire, “Please, I'm sorry… Can you kiss me?”
Law tilts his head, the expression he wears on his face is untelling—the grin hasn’t dropped, the cockiness as prevalent as ever and your heart beats into a storm at the sight of it. Knuckles clenching, cheeks sizzling and brows pulled hard enough to form a vein. And just when you think he’ll mock you once more, do you feel his hands land on your shoulders, sliding down your ribs, slow and streaming—landing under your butt, lifting you off your feet.
the gap closes and the friction of clothes grinding between one another makes you arch, as he lands his mouth on yours.
Pushing, claiming, and you feel his tongue skimming over yours—and on instinct—you suck.
The kiss grows hot, wet; saliva and groans exchanging between you two, parting only to breathe.
For a moment, Law only looks at you.
Taking in your features.
Breath hot on your face, and something soft settles in his gaze.
His voice low, almost a mumble under his breath and you barely catch it.
“Pretty.”
You blink. “What—?”
He kisses you again. Pushing your ass even further up, and you whine into it.
Yeah.
You two are going to be kissing for a good while.
Donquixote Doflamingo 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
He was being a mean, rude, cocky, snobby and a barbarous little shitbird about your situation.
And it makes you seethe, hands tugging onto the pink feather of his coat.
Pulling, yanking, face fuming with frustration as you stare up his stupid handsome face.
“Doffy… please, just lean down.”
He has the audacity to snort out loud and you scoff, offended.
Your cheeks burn into fire, swallowing your pride—you’re not giving up, not yet.
“You’re mean.” You huff and he takes a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it.
“Yeah? If I’m so mean, the why are you beggin’ for a kiss, hmm?”
You pull out the trump card. “Because I love you.”
And he freezes.
You decide to go in for the kill — you give him that doe eyed look, the coquettish, begging one. “Please Doffy.” Your voice is soft, pleading, “Just one, it’s all I want.”
Doflamingo flicks your hair from his fingers, hand grabbing your jaw, as he leans down—slamming his mouth into yours.
And the taste of wine, cocktails, pineapple juice and corruption seeps all into you; his tongue sloshes over yours. Wet, hot and messy as he forces you deeper into it, possessive hands travelling down your waist and latching onto your hips. Hoisting you up.
The kiss starts growing sloppy; clicking sounds and moans slipping every time you tilt into a new angle.
And when you part, its only to breathe, huff and ground yourself. Head dizzy. Doflamingo’s forehead nudging yours.
“You love me, huh? Then you have no one to blame but yourself.” He grins, and it’s not sweet or adoring, no—it’s got wickedness written all over it; but you know what’s worse?
He is right. This is no one’s fault, but your own.
Roronoa Zoro 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃
You were practically doing mini jumps to get to this man.
Tiptoeing. Neck arching. Hands tugging his collar as he gives you a long, long stare.
Arms crossed.
“Zoro.”
“No.”
You tug his shirt. “Zoro!”
“No.”
“Please!”
“Still; no.”
This is how it has been between you two for ten minutes.
You’ve been trying to steal a kiss, he’s been watching your failed attempts with the most aloof, most unbothered, most ‘this-gotta-be-a-joke-but-I-also-dont-want-it-to-end-just-yet’ face ever.
You were leaning forward, he was leaning back.
“You’re not giving me a chance!”
“So?” He gives you a brow and your face pulls into a frown. Cheeks starting to burn.
“Lean down. Please.”
Zoro blinks, slowly, before eventually tilting his head to the side, a cocky smirk coming into place.
“Sure.”
You regain some hope, tiptoeing further up, straining yourself even.
“Really!?”
“Yeah. if you beg.”
At that, your face sullen once more.
“I’ve been begging.”
“Yeah? Well, I guess you don’t want to kiss me that badly then—” He unfolds his arms, moving away and you panic. Latching harder onto him.
“Please!” You tug him towards you, ignoring the widening grin on his face.
“Please, please kiss me, please it’s all I want. Just one.”
“You want it that bad huh?”
You swallow your pride, and nod.
And at that, he scoffs. Hands going to your ass, groping, squeezing as he lifts you off the ground, his crotch grind against yours, fabric causing friction between one another as he hoists you further up—meeting his lips.
Soft. Sweet.
Lips clicking when he parts.
And he gives you a smaller smile, “Happy?”
“As if.” You lock your arms over his shoulders, bringing you two into a kiss once more.
And this time, it’s deeper, longer and messier. you have decided to reap your reward to the fullest.
Once, when you thought you had a good understanding of how he worked, you were certain Shanks was best enjoyed in pieces.
Drinks shared and nights spent with his hand at your hip and his mouth against your neck before dawn. But always in fleeting moments. Never for more than that. It was easier that way. If you stayed longer than a night, it became more difficult.
And Shanks had never been the type for anything more than easy.
You had assumed, at least.
The first time he made the offer was in a room already hot with the lingering aftermath of the evening. Rough sheets twisted around your legs, sticking to sweat-slick skin while the open window did little to chase away the summer air. Bruises were already beginning to bloom along your throat from the lazy path of his mouth before he slipped between your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, softer than anything he'd given you before.
“Come with me tomorrow,” he said, offering another further up your thigh. “Sail with us.”
You lifted your head, curious at the gentleness of his words and his touch. “Join you?” you asked. “Do you not have a full crew already?”
“We do,” he said, his smile lazy as ever. “But I’ll make space for you.”
You laughed quietly to yourself, brushing some of his hair away from his face so you could appreciate him better. Too handsome for his own good. He knew he could get away with anything if he looked at you like that.
“I see a problem with your offer,” you said and he kissed further along your thigh.
“What is it?”
“It’ll make you lose interest too quickly.”
Shanks paused, leaning his cheek against your skin. “Lose interest?”
You moved your leg from his shoulder and leaned down to drag him higher up your body, fingers tangled in his hair and lips locked in a messy kiss. He still tasted of the drinks he’d downed earlier and that explained enough about his impulsive offer.
“It won’t be fun if I’m already on board your ship,” you teased.
“Nonsense. If I had you on my ship, I'd never get anything done. Becks would have to start captaining properly.”
“Don’t you do that when I’m around anyway?” you asked.
He hummed and kissed you again as though to distract you. “Maybe.”
You chuckled softly, unwilling to admit to him how much his offer tempted you. He was far too addictive to turn down. Especially when his tongue was in your mouth and his hand was dragging your leg back up his hip. If you didn’t focus, you could almost believe he wanted you to stay with him. But pretty words alone couldn’t sway you.
You still left the next morning and he didn’t stop you, just pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you slipped from the bed.
“We’ll see each other soon,” he said and he sounded far too confident.
You smiled. “I suppose it depends on if the sea favours us.”
“The sea’s a big friend of mine,” he reassured you. “I’m sure she’ll bring you back to me.”
He wasn’t wrong. No matter how far you sailed, the ocean didn’t give you long before it reunited you with the Red Hair Pirates. You stopped shying away from them after the third encounter, growing bolder with each offer Shanks tossed your way.
Now when you saw the Red Force docked in harbour, her flag snapping high above the masts, you'd wander the island until you found the right tavern. It was never difficult. Somewhere there would be a building with music spilling from the windows, laughter loud enough to shake the walls and patrons pretending not to stare at the cluster of infamous pirates occupying half the room. The Red Hair Pirates had a talent for making themselves at home wherever they landed.
They were a friendly crew. A mostly peaceful one, even. But they were the crew of an emperor and people respected that deeply.
You walked in most times, walked out with your hands in Shanks’ hair every time, and it was never a problem.
Not until the one evening when you waltzed in and half of his crew nudged their captain as though he hadn’t already raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and made your way to the bar, not bothering him and the woman currently pressed to his arm.
But he never wasted time in approaching you, even if he was busy. He slipped up behind you as you ordered your drink and nodded to the bartender.
"Whatever she's having is on me."
You hummed. “You’re going to run your ship dry if you pay for the drinks of every girl that smiles at you.”
His arm slipped naturally around your waist, resting on your hip as though it belonged there. “Not every girl with a great smile,” he corrected. “Just the ones who need a bit more convincing to dance with me.”
The music in this tavern wasn’t quite suited for dancing. It was softer and almost impossible to hear over the shouts of his crew.
“I might need more convincing than a drink,” you commented.
“Name your price.”
Shanks was far too good at making your heart flutter, no matter how often you were exposed to his seemingly endless charm. He already knew he’d get what he wanted that night and you knew it too but sometimes, making him work for it was part of the fun.
“You’ve been trying to guess at my price for a while now,” you said. “You haven’t gotten any closer.”
“I’ll figure it out with enough time.”
You turned to face him fully, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders. “I’m lucky I managed to find you without any other pretty women around, hm? Ones with more reasonable demands?”
He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips against the side of your throat. “There are plenty. Funny thing is, I keep ending up back here.”
You tilted your head to the side. “As easy to lead back to your bed?”
The expression he gave you was off – a smile that didn’t quite get to his eyes. “Such little faith in me. You’re lucky I don’t get hurt easily.”
“It’s not a lack of faith,” you corrected. “But I know you enjoy the chase more than the reward.”
“I enjoy both as long as you’re there.”
You smiled. “I think you’d miss it too much.”
“Miss what? Waking up alone? Sounds awful.” He pulled you closer. “Can’t say I’d mind having you there instead.”
“The pining,” you corrected. “The wondering when you’ll see me again. Trying to convince me every time. If I was already there, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”
Something unreadable flickered over his face. “You think I’m trying to convince you for fun?”
“You wouldn’t do it if it was unpleasant.”
“Or if it wasn’t worth it.”
You couldn’t help being flattered by him, always so smooth. You loved the way he spoke sometimes – the way he made you feel as though you were the only important person in the world.
“I’m surprised your crew isn’t filled with women thanks to those pretty words of yours,” you said. “Even I struggle to tell you no.”
Shanks laughed, a short sound. “Wouldn’t have guessed you struggle with it.”
You leaned in, your mouth hot against his. He kissed you lazily as though you had nowhere else to be, allowing you to lead him through it.
“I’ll get us a room upstairs,” you said with a hum.
For a second, he smiled. Then he leaned in to press a swift peck to the corner of your mouth and said, “No.”
It was as though even the music itself paused as you blinked at him. “No?”
“As much as I love chasing you,” he said, stepping away and leaving the space in front of you feeling very empty. “I’m starting to think you enjoy being chased more than you want me. We set sail in the morning. The offer still stands.”
You watched him walk away in mild confusion, still a little lost before his words caught up to you.
Was he serious?
The bartender placed your drink down next to you but you barely heard it. The music carried on around you as though nothing had changed. A few members of the Red Hair Pirates were starting up a song. The woman he’d been talking to earlier grinned when he returned but he took a seat aside Yasopp instead.
You looked around the party and shrugged, taking your drink and a seat at the bar. If he didn’t leave, you had no reason to either.
Maybe he was trying to prove a point? You thought he might look for another woman whose words didn’t sting as bad as yours did, but he drank and laughed with only his crew and you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. As though he was waiting for something.
You finished your drink and swung off the stool, sliding the beri across to the bartender.
“Isn’t – ”
“I can pay for myself.”
The cold night air was refreshing against your face but the familiar curl of cigarette smoke drew your attention to a very unaffected Beckman. You paused when you saw him, not sure if he had something to say. He looked like he did.
“Running away again?”
“No idea what you mean,” you retorted.
He tilted his head toward the swinging door of the tavern; each time it moved, the raucous din bled through into the night. Beckman wasn’t even really what you would consider an acquaintance but he’d dragged Shanks out your bed more times than you could count.
“It’s early for you to be leaving alone,” he noted.
You didn’t have any reason to explain the break in routine to his first mate. And yet…
“Change of pace tonight,” you said. “I think I offended him.”
Beckman nodded. “You did.”
“I didn’t even know that was possible.”
He shrugged and offered you a cigarette. “I didn’t think it was until recently. Not many people can get under his skin.”
“I’m not wrong though,” you defended yourself.
“No,” he agreed. “You weren’t at one point. I’ve long since lost track of how many women I’ve had to drop off at port in the mornings but none of them were recent. Since he met you, there’s been no others.”
You didn’t want to admit to the way that made your heart flutter just slightly. “It’s the challenge. He tries to get me to join your merry little crew, I do, and then he gets bored in a month.”
“It’s possible.”
You didn’t know why it annoyed you so much that he agreed with you but you felt the glare before you could stop it. True or not, he could have said it in a better way.
“Why does it bother you so much then?” Beckman asked. “If you’re so sure that it’s the truth?”
“It’s still not nice to hear.”
“Because you’ve fallen in love with him?”
You shot him a sharp look. If you didn’t know quite how dangerous this man was, you may have snapped a little more venomously. How you hated him for saying the quiet parts of your worst thoughts out loud.
“I don’t fall in love that easily,” you huffed. “I just don’t particularly feel like joining a pirate crew to be a pretty face on the sidelines.”
“He says you have good enough aim that you won’t be wholly useless. And I’m sure he’ll teach you more if you ask.”
You had no other defence. On a different crew, you may have believed him but you’d heard the legends of the Red Hair Pirates and their skills. You would not sail with an emperor just for the sake that he found you attractive. That was a ridiculous decision. Even without the risk that he lost interest once you gave him what he wanted.
“You can see where we’re docked?” Beckman asked.
“Hard to miss.”
“Then you may as well prove your point.” He blew a puff of smoke into the sky. “You can be useless, let him lose interest and I’ll concede that you’re right.”
“And if I would rather things remain as they are?”
“They won’t. You’ve already ruined that part.”
You almost didn’t board. The Red Force came to life while you stood on the dock, shrouded in shadows and watched the sun rise over the horizon the next morning. The crew woke with complaints of headaches and aches as they got to work.
They were about to weigh anchor by the time you finally found the courage to walk forward, catching Hongo with a look right before he raised the ladder.
He stared for a second and then gestured you to board.
It was a strange feeling to step onto the Red Force. The gangplank creaked softly beneath your boots and the ship rose and fell beneath you with the easy rhythm of the sea. For years she had existed as something distant, spoken about in stories and rumours across countless ports. Yet the deck felt solid beneath your feet. The tarred ropes smelled no different from those of any other vessel. No monsters waited beyond the railings. Just a few curious glances and shouted greetings as the wind swelled her sails.
“He’s downstairs,” Hongo said. “Drank more than usual so he’s still nursing a hangover if you want to see him.”
You looked toward the ship’s doctors. “With how much you lot drink, I’m honestly surprised you don’t have a cure already.”
He smiled. “Maybe I do but I simply enjoy the peace in the mornings. Do you want a tour?”
It wasn’t as though you had anything better to do although it did catch you off guard just how unsurprised the Red Hair Pirates seemed to be about your arrival. Not one of them even mentioned your arrival as the wind caught her sails.
Not even Beckman who gave you a simple nod.
The Red Force was kept in beautiful condition. She was evidently loved and no room felt neglected as you followed Hongo through her passages.
Hongo walked you through the galley, the infirmary, the stores, and everywhere else you might need aboard. You memorised the route as best you could, making note of scuffed boards and chips in the wood rather than considering the ship as anything more. It was easier to focus on that, you realised.
Hongo stopped at a door at the end of a passage that led through the quarters and he pushed it open with casual ease.
“This one’s yours.”
You frowned at the way he said it before stepping inside.
A warm, clean room waited beyond the doorway. Sunlight spilled through the small window, stirring the pale curtains where the sea breeze caught them. A narrow bed sat against one wall with blankets folded neatly across the end while an empty chest waited beside a small desk untouched by clutter. Nothing looked lived in. Nothing looked abandoned either. The room carried the strange feeling of something prepared and patiently waiting.
Guest quarters maybe? Though that hardly made sense and this didn’t look like a spare room, briefly swept out when you stepped aboard. They wouldn’t have had time for that.
There was an explanation that made sense though not one you fully grappled with.
“How long has this been here?” you asked.
“Couple months now. Captain wanted it ready if you ever changed your mind.”
You tried not to let it show just how much that made your stomach twist. He’d prepared a room on his ship in case you joined?
Still, you tried to ignore the topic for a little longer by returning to the deck after leaving your bag. You found an opportunity to lean against one of the cannons, talking to Yasopp about nothing of importance while you watched the island fade behind you.
The door onto deck opened and Shanks stepped out, dishevelled and hiding his eyes from the sun.
Naturally his crew all shouted at once in response to his obvious headache and he winced visually, which only made the others laugh harder. You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly at their torment.
He spun at the sound, grin disappearing at once.
Your heart lodged in your throat as you stared, not certain what you should say.
“You’re here?”
Well, he didn’t have to sound so surprised.
“Have been for the whole morning,” you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. “But I thought I should let you get your beauty sleep.”
He chuckled as he walked over, smile gentler than you’d ever seen it before. His eyes glinted with barely concealed excitement as he approached. “Did somebody show you around? To your room?”
“You set that up a while ago,” you said. “Very confident.”
“Hopeful,” he clarified. “How long are you staying for?”
You hesitated before you answered. If you really wanted to, you could disappear the next time you found yourself at an island. But something about that room sitting and waiting for you made leaving feel far less appealing than it ever had before.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you settled on saying.
“That’s fine. When you do leave, just tell me before you go.”
“I will,” you promised.
How many years had passed since you made that promise now? You thought back on it, trying to remember while you swirled the drink in your hand, Shanks’ hand still resting on your hip where it belonged.
“Lost in thought?” he asked.
“Lost in memories,” you corrected with a small smile.
“Oh?” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss right behind your ear in the way that always made you laugh. “Which ones?”
“Ancient ones. I realised that I’m still waiting for you to get bored of me so I can run away.” You took a sip of your drink and tilted your head toward him. “You getting there yet?”
He laughed proudly. “Nowhere close. I should probably be more careful though. Think you’d sooner shoot me than run away now.”
You chuckled in agreement and leaned in to kiss him, slow and lazy as ever. “Maybe. I’m no longer much of a runner.”
I've seen this clip many times, but never really appreciated the power of "what was her problem?" Just casually assuming that lesbians come in a wide variety of shapes and being inclusive. As a transbian who is probably still closer to Homer shaped than to my ideal, that's huge!
🧡Sweet mother, I cannot weave…🧡
My full drawing of Anglo-Saxon era lesbians for We've Always Been Here artbook along with a look at the progress. (Digital sketch & pencil drawing)
Shout out to all the #loomheads who are liking this piece. I tried very hard in my research to make it a decent depiction so these tags both make me laugh & very pleased!
Since a few people have asked me this in a couple of places, I thought i'd answer -
It's not available as a print right now but it will be later in the year, likely October! Sorry for the wait but due to the contract of the art book this is for, I'm not allowed to sell prints/merch etc of the piece until 6 months after the Kickstarter campaign.
TLDR; Please do keep an eye out for a print announcement in October!
Honestly, Tvyek is pretty miraculous. It’s permeable to water vapor but not to water, it’s nearly impossible to tear, but can be easily cut. It’s cheap and made entirely without binding chemicals. In addition to being used for wristbands, it’s used to wrap construction sites to keep out water during construction, for tear-resistant envelopes at Fed-Ex, coveralls for mechanics, and my wallet, actually.
Fun tip, though it looks like paper, Tyvek is plastic, and cannot be recycled with paper.
i think we should be ridiculing them more for this. you don't get to try and go all "queer website" when your staff likes to go on nuking sprees targeting the trans fem users
would be remiss not to mention that the rainbow notably straight up just removed the trans flag colors from it. like they’re gone. it’s the progress flag minus the trans flag colors.
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