#one piece 933

[hauntingblue]

So what I am getting at here is that drake is sensitive to semi naked men.....

#linlin coming mask off about her cannibalism lmao #omg batman #zoro getting the loner samurai story just by roaming around alone (well makes sens #the animation in the fight looks so god omg #talking tag #watching one piece #episode 933 #oshiri crying about komurasaki.... girl whose fault is that #BEPO and the others..... #we get it law #nami beat sanji UP!!!!!! hell yeah #shinobu blaming bepo but they just keep letting random peple in on their plan... i al not calling the big headed man a traitor but... #they havent been that subtle with the plan lmao #ZORO GOT IMPALED??? oh he is insane..... literally keeping the sword he was stabbed with #damn what an ending #episode 934 #hiyori no..... looking at zoros biceps and lips as he drinks ajdjaksjsk girl... girl get up!!!!! #those are two bad signs: fights too much and alcoholism. girl run #episode 936 #so now the old man can fight????? lmao team up #nami saying usopp wouldn't last 3 seconds of torture lmao #hiyori knew bingo bongo and bungo and hustled with them ajdhsksj..... as nami said incredible #hiyori girl...... get up..... girl.... get up girl..... #episode 937 #TOKO IS YASU'S DAUGHTER??? i thot they were from the same place and thats it omg.... #episode 938 #jesus christ poor toko.....

[findpandaman]

Find Pandaman!

Solution under the cut: 

#one piece #pandaman #yonko saga #wano #wano act 2 #op 933 #hiyori #komurasaki #orochi

[misqnon]

"YOU ASSHOLE! DON'T STAB ME IN THE BACK WHILE SOMEONE IS CALLING OUT FOR HELP"

the helperrrrrr

#zoro is nice. he's nice #secretly #misqnon's one piece liveblog #ep 933

[justafewsmallsteps]

Late, but I’ve been dying to make some work for @kagomes-hanakotobamatsuri ! Here's to make up for Week 1 where I chose the red hibiscus to represent passion. Along with it I wrote a (kinda spicy) little prologue to this piece, which I'm now titling Genki. This can stand alone though!

Genki, The Prologue (((Word Count: 933 /// Warning for Alcohol use and dubious consent)))

This was a remarkably dumb idea. That thought briefly flitted about in Kagome’s mind, but was overshadowed by the vodka-induced adrenaline telling her to go for it. She was in her final semester of university. She’d been stressed and uptight and severely lacking a social life or any real kind of self-indulgence for over a year now, and once this break was over, she would return to Tokyo and strap in for the toughest final stretch of her academic career. Her friends had pestered her nonstop about what a shut-in she’d become, and Kagome was tired of being known as the group’s wet blanket. So tonight, just tonight, she would allow herself to have fun. 

And tonight, at this random party in Osaka, fun was a very attractive guy that she dragged into a corner to make out with aggressively. He was so pretty—at least that’s what she believed. Her eyes were closed and she was pretty drunk, so maybe he was average looking in sobering daylight, but perhaps not. He was admittedly a clumsy kisser, shy and cute, and somehow that was turning her on more. 

She didn’t ask his name, nor did she give hers. It went against all her instincts. She was always known for forming connections and bonding with people. Her friends told her she wasn’t the type to throw caution to the wind. She’d never have a wild hookup. She’d always been so responsible. Kagome didn’t take pride or shame in that as an attribute, but god she hated being told what she wasn’t capable of. She was capable of dressing up and going out, she was capable of drinking too much and loosening up, and she was absolutely capable of finding a hot guy to have sex with in a closet. And she was here now in her skimpy red dress to prove it. 

“Is this a good idea?” The hot stranger asked, panting as Kagome hiked up her skirt and began fumbling with his jeans. 

“I don’t know. I don’t want to think tonight.” She finally got the button undone and pulled his pants down. 

“You’re okay with this? I think we’re both—“

She shoved her mouth on his fervently, tongue thrusting back into his mouth, hoping she could convince him to shut up before he made too much sense. 

“Drunk,” he finished, but sounded out of breath and dopey. 

“I’m okay with this.” He was single. He said he was clean. Those were the only two extra qualifiers that she had needed before she threw herself into his arms. “You want me?” 

It was apparently a struggle for him to answer her properly when her hand was already in his boxers, but he managed a, “Yes,” into her shoulder as she pushed them down. 

They were in a closet for heaven’s sake. There wasn’t much time or space, but Kagome was wasted and determined as she wrangled them onto the floor, straddling him in the cramped space. 

“Good, because I want you,” she confessed into the crook of his neck. 

Apparently that hit some kind of switch, because at that moment he grabbed her hip with one hand, and yanked her panties aside with the other, entering her with a groan.

“Oh! Oh yes.” She threw her head back as she clung to his shoulders. They weren’t wasting any time. “Yes, yes, yes!” It was amazing. She’d never felt this hot in her life. “How is this so good?” 

“No clue,” he replied. “It’s you, I swear. Or the alcohol.” 

She would’ve laughed or thanked him or something, but she was so caught up in the moment that she simply nodded. In the darkness, every sensation seemed to multiply—the squeeze of his hands, the heat of his lips, the oh so satisfying way he fit into her. 

“Yes! There! There, there!” It only took a few minutes of rocking up and down, but Kagome was so turned on that she reached her peak just moments later. “So good. You’re incredible!”

In turn he finished to her encouraging moans. 

And that was that. After only a brief moment to collect her breath, Kagome kissed his cheek sweetly. “Thank you. That was amazing. That was just what I needed and so much more.” 

“Y-you’re welcome,” she couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but his voice was shaky.  

“Do you mind staying back for a minute? I… I’m trying to prove something dumb to my friends, so I’ve got to disappear.” 

“You have to?” He was so cute that Kagome almost gave in and asked his name, but she was stubbornly holding onto her pride, so she got up before this turned into something more. It would be just like her to get all mushy and exchange numbers and make it all romantic. No. Not this time. 

“I have to,” she confirmed. “But it’s not because of anything you did wrong. You’re really wonderful and you seem very nice.” 

“You too.” 

“Too nice, according to my friends. Nice and boring.” 

“You ain’t boring, that’s for sure.” 

She giggled. “Just for tonight.”

“Lucky me.” 

“I’m glad you think so. I’m really happy it was you, for the record. I hope you don’t feel like I used you, whoever you are, hot stuff.” 

He almosted coughed at the nickname. “You made my night, I promise. Get out there and give ‘em hell.” 

Kagome nodded, her legs a little wobbly. Then she turned the knob and let herself out, emerging smug and satisfied, but with a slight pang in her heart for the guy she’d left in the closet. 

No, she assured herself. No regrets.

#inuyasha #kagome higurashi #kagshanakotoba #khm2024 #jelly art #jelly fic #inukag #if you know me hahaha #but i guess it could be kagome x male of your choice #if that's what you want #justafewsmallsteps

[mr-hanjisung]

GUYS GUYS GUYS HEAR ME OUT.

A quickie with Seungmin before and after his show?? AND HE'S STILL PERFORMING WITH ENDLESS STAMINA.

Needs not Wants

WARNINGS: Use of the word jagi/jagiya, mentions of orgasm denial, begging, dirty talk, protected sex, kind of public, light to no foreplay, light hair-pulling, horny Seungmin, fwb to lovers

GENRE: 💋 (✏️)

WORD COUNT: 933

A/N:

Not proofread!

"Min..! If you go even faster, I'm not sure how quiet I can be..." You warned as his hands stayed on your wrists. "Feisty today, are we?" He asked as you regretted your words instantly. You knew that usually that led to orgasm denial. You didn't want to risk it, especially with the time crunch you guys were on.

"No, I'm sorry... Min... please... keep going..." You begged as he smiled, kissing your cheek. "I love hearing you... knowing that only I can see you like this... turns me on in ways unimaginable..." He said, thrusting incredibly fast, causing you to lose your breath by how fast it was. Then soon, he hit one of your good points, and both of you came. You felt yourself get lightheaded. Once he was finished with his orgasm, he cleaned you up and threw away the condom.

"Here, a fresh change of clothes. I'm gonna go ahead unless you can't dress yourself. You know what? I'll change you anyway-" You cut his rambling off by kissing him. "You talk too much Seungmin." You stated as he blushed. "Sorry, I prefer talking through body language, the warmth of our bodies. Talk to each other. Which is why I love quickies with you jagi..." He said as now you sat blushing. You both sat in silence until Lee Know came banging at Seungmin's door.

"Seungmin! Let's go! We gotta get on stage in 3 minutes, and we are gonna be late at this rate!" He yelled as Seungmin got chills, throwing a blanket on you and kissing your head. He left the room with Lee Know. You quickly changed and went out to watch their performance.

You watched as Seungmin performed like you guys didn't just fu-

"Excuse me." You heard someone call out. "I can't help but notice you are looking at Seungmin. Are you a big fan?" The girl asked. You couldn't tell who she was as you had a hat on.

'Hey random stranger! Yes, I'm a big fan but I'm also his fuck bu-’

"Yeah, I am." You replied as she smiled at you. "Okay, usually I wouldn't do this. But the look in your eyes looks at him with purity and are genuine.”

You then found out that the girl was Hannah, Chan's sister. And she was gonna get you backstage. You could already get backstage, but it wouldn't be risky this time.

As Hannah brought you to the back. Seungmin locked eyes with you, mouthing, 'What are you doing here?' As you mouthed back, 'I'll explain later.' Then Hannah took you to Seungmin. "She is one of your biggest fans, so take care of her Minnie." Hannah said, walking off to her brother. Seungmin then connected the dots. "Well, shall we go to my dressing room? I'm sure I can give you a tour." Seungmin said as you nodded.

He then took you to his dressing room, and once the doors locked, he pulled you in for a kiss. He cupped your cheek and made you tilt your head up. He was directly above you now. You were pressed up against the wall, feeling the heat of his pants against yours.

"My biggest fan, you say?" He said, his hands undressing you as you blushed. "Did you want to risk getting caught again..." You warned as you chuckled and whispered in your ear. "Not gonna lie, you surprised me jagi, you're so wet. Not to mention, you look really, good in my clothes jagiya." You blushed as you heard him growl the word 'really' in your ear. You pushed him lightly. "Shush, I know... but that's only because I know how to style clothes and you have good clothing selection.”

He smiled at your comment as all the clothing pieces dropped to the floor. "Do you need to be prepped?" He asked you as you shook your head no. He smirked and made you sit on top of him, his cock touching your stomach, smearing his pre-cum. "Why don't you lead today?" He said as you blushed, aligning yourself to him. Once you did you slowly moved down, causing him to groan. You held onto the couch frame that he laid on and began to move. Seungmin held onto your hips as Hannah knocked on the door.

"Seungmin! Chan told me to let you know you have 5 minutes to be out or he's gonna make you pay for everyone's meals tonight. Including mine." Hannah said as Seungmin watched you bounce on him slowly mesmerized. "Min... Hannah is-" You tried mumbling to him but he cut you off with a kiss. "Just focus... we have 5 minutes..." He said as he covered your mouth, thrusting upwards. Covering your mouth was a smart move because after you began to moan like crazy.

Seungmin felt you clamp around him and that's how he knew you were close. "C'mon jagi... release all over me..." He begged as your hands found their way to his hair. Entangled in his locks, tugging on them as you kissed him. He became needy and went even faster driving you both to the edge.

“That was probably the quickest one, we have 2 minutes to clean up." Seungmin said as you giggled, "You're such a dirty pup." You said as he kissed you, "I know we've been like this for a while so why don't we make it official? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked nonchalantly as you smiled, "If we don't end up dating then I'm not sure what we are Min." You said as he chuckled.

#skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz stay #skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #seungmin #kim seungmin #skz seungmin #seungmin drabbles #kim seungmin drabbles #seungmin skz #kim seungmin skz #stray kids seungmin #stray kids kim seungmin #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #seungmin imagines #seungmin scenarios #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin scenarios #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #skz talker

[solar-wing]

⚣ Pizza Or TV Dinner? 🔪

⚣🔪 A/N → This was a request from my other account that is still currently shadowbanned and restricted. So re-posting it over here. My message on the original post stills stands as well. I'd absolutely melt like butter on a pan...is it still sad? Maybe. Do I still not care? absolutely. And thank you💛 I’m glad you enjoy them😊

⚣🔪 Summary → You're cooking dinner for you and Conner when you make a small slip-up. But, don't worry, your Kryptonian boyfriend has just the key to make you feel better, at the cost of your special dinner.

⚣🔪 Words → 933

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🔪

“Fuck!”

Now, you understood why your parents never allowed you within 10 feet of any sharp object. Well, really anything. 

You always somehow found a way to hurt yourself. 

As a joke, they’d call you Danger Prone-Daphne’s cousin, a nickname that to your extreme annoyance, your entire family had decided to brand you with.

“Babe!” You heard Conner, your boyfriend, shout from down the hall.

The Kryptonian was staying at your house, taking advantage of your parents being out of town so you two could have some alone time together. It was hard to come by since when both of you were at the Cave, someone was always around. And even if you two went to his room, someone would come by and disturb you.

Especially M’Gann with her jealous and needy ass. 

So when you’re parents announced they were leaving for the next couple of days on an anniversary cruise, you decided to invite your boyfriend to stay at your place for the extent of their vacation because, let’s face it; your pops would actually try to murder the dark brown-haired boy if he found out he was sleeping in your bed with you. 

When he got there, you decided you wanted to be romantic and cutesy and cook a delicious meal for you both. And everything was going fine until your finger had gotten too close to the knife while you were cutting the meat into smaller pieces.

Conner was in the living room, watching TV when he heard you shout with his super hearing. You didn’t scream that loud, at least you don’t think you did. He ran into the kitchen, his face full of panic as he saw you holding your bloody finger.

“I’m fine. I accidentally cut myself with the knife while cutting this steak into smaller pieces.” You affirmed, moving to the sink to stick your finger under cold water. You winced at the sting, watching the blood wash down the drain. Is it a bloody steak if it doesn’t have a little blood in it?

Your Kryptonian came over to examine your finger, rubbing his fingers over your wrist in a calming manner while placing his other arm around your waist, hugging you to his body.

“What were you even doing? I thought your parents said you weren’t allowed to touch sharp objects. Even Batman banned you from it after that incident with Robin’s Batarang.” He brought up, also highly to your annoyance.

“Okay, that wasn’t my fault! You shouldn’t have been sparring without your shirt cause you know that distracts me. And Wally shouldn’t have been standing so close.” You responded with an eye roll, crossing one of your arms over your chest in annoyance.

“I’m sorry my body is such a distraction to you.” He joked, chuckling at your childish behavior.

You let out a ‘hmph,’ not appreciating him laughing at you. He rubbed at your back, silently waiting for you to answer his question.

“I wanted to cook you dinner.” You whined, feeling your finger starting to feel like it was freezing from the cold water, but the blood was still running from the cut.

Conner’s heart swelled at your admittance, once again questioning how he ended up with someone so devastatingly handsome and adorable at the same time.

“I appreciate it, baby. But we could’ve just ordered some food. I’d rather that or even put one of those frozen TV dinners in the microwave than you getting hurt.” He voiced, moving his finger under the cold stream of water to rub at your sore finger.

“That’s not as special.” You replied with a whining voice still.

“Anything from you is special to me,” He remarked, kissing your head.

He held you against his body, now fully holding your hands in his, and then you felt your body vibrating, hearing a purring sound against your ear that pressed to his body.

Ever since you discovered that Kryptonians purr with their loved ones in any situation where they feel safe and loved, you found it so satisfying and reassuring whenever your boyfriend did it with you. It was like you were literally getting to hear his love for you without him having to speak words.

Whenever you two cuddled together after a long day, or when Conner was helping you take care of some of your harsher bruises or injuries, he’d start purring since it was also known to help speed up the healing process. Not by much, but it also helped dull any soreness and pain.

You tucked your head into his chest, loving the sound of his purr and his firm, calloused hand holding yours, which reminded you…

Add hand lotion to your shopping list.

Conner and the others made fun of you for it, but you were very serious when you said you’d rather see Joker in a bikini before letting your hands get dry and calloused. Besides, you knew he liked how soft and smooth your hands were. It helped you that you wore gloves whenever on missions as well.

You both sat silent for a while, not realizing how Conner’s purring was actually starting to vibrate the whole room, causing things on the counter to shake. You were jolted from your comfortable stances when you heard the sound of a loud crash, looking to see the cutting board with the meat lying flat on the ground.

“Welp, pizza or TV dinner?” You asked, looking up at your Kryptonian boyfriend.

“You choose.” He answered with a kiss on your lips.

“You know I hate it when you do that, right?”

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.request #☀️🪽.txt #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc comics #dc universe #dc imagine #x reader #x male reader #young justice #young justice imagine #conner kent #conner kent imagine #conner kent x reader #conner kent x male reader #conner kent x m!reader #superboy #superboy x reader #superboy imagine #superboy x male reader #superboy x m!reader

[bluebirdsboi]

Nascent | Miguel O’Hara x Male Reader

Fandom: Spider-verse

Genre: Fluff | Florist/Tattoo Artist AU

Paring: Florist!Miguel O’Hara x Tattoo Artist!Male Reader

Warnings: Needles

Word Count: 933

Requests are open

GIF From: geamering (tenor)

The streets of Nueva York seemed bustling even in the evening. The warm light streaming through the window provided peace of mind as you drew up new flash designs while listening to music. 

As time went by, you naturally became increasingly tired and you already finished with your sessions for the day, so you told your coworkers that you're heading out early. While walking down the sidewalk, you noticed a flower shop just two buildings down from the tattoo parlor you worked at. They weren’t closed yet, so you decided to walk in and browse. The designs you drew were almost always of flowers or an ornate design that somehow incorporated flowers, which is why you took the opportunity to find some inspiration.

The inside of the building was adorned with a multitude of beautiful flower arrangements. You were captivated by all the different types of flowers and different pigments, but there was one arrangement that had you completely enamored. It was an arrangement that had a Blue Spider Lily as the main flower. “That one’s one of my favorites.” A deep voice spoke from across the room. You looked up at its owner to see a tall man with dark brown pushed-back hair, and gorgeous, deep brown eyes. “Oh, yeah, it’s a really pretty piece.” A flustered chuckle accented your response. “I appreciate it. I’m Miguel, by the way.” His tone was warm as he extended his hand. “(Y/n).” As you shook hands, you could feel the callouses that formed on Miguel’s hand, but he was still gentle with you.

The following interaction between you two seemed to flow almost effortlessly, with you eventually admitting that you are a tattoo artist and you were perusing for inspiration. You just couldn’t help how easy it was to talk to Miguel, hanging onto every word he spoke. He shared some arrangements with some of his favorite flowers, which coincidentally were also some of your favorites, only drawing you more into him.

After leaving, you made a mental note to visit the flower shop on your days off or whenever you could leave the tattoo parlor early, both for inspiration but now with an added motive of seeing Miguel. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks went by from when you first stopped by the flower shop, growing closer to Miguel with each visit. Seeing his smile always had its way of brightening your day, no matter how stressful it may have been. Miguel also made his efforts to connect with you by extending your conversations as long as he could, letting you stay a few minutes after closing to sketch, and even bringing you a mini bouquet when he stopped by the tattoo parlor.

One day, you were in the flower shop, with Miguel sketching another arrangement as the store was about to close when he made a lighthearted jab as you were drawing. “How many times have you come in here just to not order anything?” A small smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned against the counter with an eyebrow raised. You couldn’t deny the truth, as a breathy chuckle left your mouth. “Okay, how about this? I can give you a free tattoo to make up for it.” You knew Miguel didn’t mind your drawing and flower observing too much, but you still wanted to compensate somehow. The tattoo didn’t have to be an extravagant one, just something to show your gratitude. “Deal.” Miguel patted your shoulder with a smile on his face as he walked to the back of the store. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next evening, you took it upon yourself to close the tattoo parlor, letting your coworkers leave a little earlier and drawing up more designs to pass your alone time. 

Around ten minutes before you closed the parlor was when Miguel walked in. Welcoming him, you let him settle into the tattoo bed while you gathered all of your materials. Once you were done, you transferred a flash design of a Spider Lily onto his shoulder and started your tattoo machine. The constant drone of the needle became background noise as you worked on Miguel’s arm. You could feel the finer details of his rather large shoulder under your gloves and the subtle warmth radiating from him. A faint heat crept onto your cheeks from the intimacy of the situation. Neither of you were uncomfortable, though. Miguel settled into your touch, stealing glances while you worked. 

As a comfortable silence fell over you two, a question kept nagging at the back of Miguel’s mind. He’d grown fond of you over the past weeks and didn’t want to limit your interactions to whenever either of you were in each other’s shop. “Hey, can I ask you something?” Miguel felt vaguely nervous as he waited for your response. “Go for it.” You kept your focus on the tattoo while answering. “You’re a really great guy. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out one day?” A tentative sigh linked Miguel’s sentences to prepare himself for a “no”. You removed the needle from his skin and sat upright to look at him for a moment. You had no idea if he shared the same feelings you had for him, and yet here he was asking you on a date. However, there was no doubt in your mind that you liked Miguel. “I’d love to.” Your disbelief peaked through your words and was shown by the somewhat shocked look on your face. With that, small chuckles escaped both of you as you returned to your work on Miguel’s shoulder with fond smiles decorating your faces. 

- End- 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey guys. So, first things first, I apologize if this fic isn’t that great. This is my first time writing for this AU (and really any AU in a long time) and I tried to keep Miguel as in character as possible, but I still think he’s an OOC. So overall, I’m sorry if this fic isn’t great, but in other news, I’m now writing for Triple Frontier so you can request fic for those characters. Also similar to my second blog, I’m opening a taglist, so if you want to be tagged in any future fics for any fandom, just send me an ask of a DM so I can add you. 

That’s all for current updates, so as always, thank you for reading <3

#fanfic #fanfiction #Spider-verse #across the spiderverse #ATSV #x reader #x male reader #spider-verse x reader #spider-verse x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x male reader #au

[jobean12-blog]

Chef’s Kiss

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word Count: 933

Summary: Eddie makes you a home cooked meal but not everything goes according to plan...but it’s still perfect! 

Author’s Note: Domestic Eddie is something I’ve wanted to do for a while and I want to revisit again and again! He’s just so fun and I love him so! Thank you to my sweet Zoey @sunshinebuckybarnes for loving the softness of him being so cute at home with me! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @wannabehamlet thank you darling 🥰

Warnings: lots of soft and fun fluff, some spicy moments with implied sexiness but I can’t help it :) 

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @corrodedcoffins thank you sweets🥰

Before you can even open the door you get a whiff of sautéing onions and sizzling ground beef, the aroma making you inhale on a surprise.

“Eddie?” you question when you push open the door to his trailer.

He’s standing at the stove, his back to you so you can see the haphazard tie of the apron around his waist, and his hips shaking to Dio playing on the radio.

You giggle as you lean against the door frame and enjoy the show. He checks on the pan one more time before consulting a disheveled looking recipe binder with stained and crinkled papers.

The counter is a mess of bowls, utensils, scattered pieces of various food items and stains.

“Eddie!” you shout, louder this time and take a few steps closer.

He spins around with a smile, the spoon in one hand and the other twinkling his fingers in greeting.

“Hi sweetheart,” he croons, shimmying over to you.

He wraps his free arm around your waist and pulls you against him.

Before you can greet him with a proper hello he presses his lips to yours, making you forget about everything else but the feel of him. He walks you backward toward the door, pushing you against it and shoving the spoon in the pocket of his apron so he can smooth his other hand along your curves.

You sneak your hands under his apron and dance your fingertips across his belt. He hums into the kiss, taking your face in his hands and tilting your head back to deepen it. The action makes you moan low in the back of your throat and he starts to pull at your shirt, his warm fingers slipping under to caress your skin.

Your hands dive into his curls and you break the kiss to trail your lips down his neck. He lets out a hiss of pleasure and presses his hips into you, lifting your leg to wrap it around his waist. You start to tug at the knot of his apron as his lips once again meet yours with an urgent need.

It isn’t until you smell something burning that you reluctantly pull away, tugging on his hair to drag him out of his blissed-out haze.

“Eddie!” you whisper shout, “I smell something burning!”

“Hmm?” he murmurs, giving you heated eyes.

“Is something burning?” you ask, giving him a light shove.

He stares at you for a beat then his eyes go wide.

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!!!” he yells, spinning in a flurry and rushing to the oven.

He opens the door and a puff of black smoke billows out, hitting him in the face and making him cough.

“Jesus H Christ,” he mutters, waving his hands in front of his face.

“Oh Eddie,” you say quietly, taking the dish towel and wiping the black soot from his face.

He’s quiet while you do it, his big brown eyes now soft.

“What is…?” you ask yourself as your fingers swipe through his curls, catching on something sticky. “Something got in your hair.”

His lips start to turn down and he mutters, “I burned your cookies.”

You peek around him and see the tray of cookies, the ones around the edges all burnt black.

“There are a few in the middle we might be able to eat,” you say sweetly. “Don’t worry!”

“I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to make you dinner and your favorite cookies…” he trails off, dipping his head and hiding in his mess of curls.

You tuck your finger under his chin and lift his eyes to yours.

“I love you Eddie and everything is perfect! You’re perfect! Thank you.”

“I love you too and even if the cookies don’t taste good I know you will…”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively with a lopsided smirk and sticks out his tongue, wiggling it around teasingly. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and try to suppress the shiver of want that runs down your spine.

With a knowing wink he pulls the spoon from his apron and stirs the sloppy joe mixture.

“I hope this is good at least,” he says.

“It smells amazing,” you gush. “I can’t wait to eat.”

“Me neither,” he simpers.

“Eddie…” you admonish playfully. “Dinner first.”

He smiles at that and moves to grab some things from the fridge. As he works you finally get a good look at his apron, the sight making you smile wide.

It’s stained and well used but there are several band patches sewn to the front and even some pins along the strap that hangs over his neck.

“I love this,” you tell him as you step into his arms and run your hand down his chest.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’ve had this a long time. I taught myself to cook a few things when I was younger and I figured I should at least be doing it in style.”

He throws you another wink before stealing a kiss.

“This is almost ready,” he says, dipping the spoon in and licking off the sauce. “Here, try it.”

He holds the spoon up to your mouth, his eyes trained on your tongue as it slides over the utensil.

“Yummy,” you croon, your eyes on his.

“You have a little something…” and he lifts his thumb to brush it over your bottom lip.

You part your lips and take his thumb into your mouth, licking it clean.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs.

“What?” you say with an innocent bat of your lashes.

“Don’t distract me, I don’t wanna burn your dinner too,” he warns.

@blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife​ @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-rose​ @goldylions​ @munsonsduchess​ @seitmai​ @luna-munson83​

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic

[dothnotaskethme]

Not cool man...

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Warnings: injury and ambulance

Summary: You go to the skate park and trouble occurs

Word count: 933

There were two skate parks in town. One newer, which you hated going to, but it was closer to your house, and an older one. You’d always try to go to the old one but most of your skater friends hated it because according to them it was a ‘death trap’ sure there were nails everywhere and pieces of scrap metal but it was your favourite. The older skate park had more personality you would always try to reason, but your friends would just look at you like you were an alien. 

Against your better judgment, and because one of your skater friends' girlfriends would bring snacks, so you set out for the park. It was much bigger than the older skate park, which was nice but that means it was much more crowded. 

You make it to the skate park, say hi to Akilah, and put your bag near where she is sitting. She greets you but goes quiet again, and following her line of sight you see her girlfriend Mari teaching Akilah’s nephew how to skate, which wasn’t going all that great, the skateboard that was being used to teach was far too big for the young boy.

Taking a deep breath you put your board down and hop on. Your warmup was always on flat ground, so you spent a few minutes doing tricks before you felt like you were warmed up enough to continue on. You skated the halfpipe, the bowl, and even some rails before your small group of friends met up on the side lines. 

“We should play a game of skate,” Van says, laying down in the grass, “It’s been forever since we’ve played it.”

You nod your head as you take an offered pack of Goldfish from Akilah. Opening the pack you look out at the skatepark. There were a lot of people, and kids. You knew a game of skate would be hard with kids everywhere, riding in front of you as you try to do a trick. You were happy that Akilah's nephew was asleep beside her right now. 

“I’d be down if my board didn’t break,” Nat scoffs, her board lay by her feet, broken straight down the middle. You know for a fact she’d never use any of the group's skateboards because they weren’t hers, so it would be hard to get comfortable on it. 

Soon after everyone had a best of rest, they all got up and the first person did their trick, and because Van suggested it, she went first. It was simple, just a simple backside nosegrind off of one of the blocks into a heelflip. 

Everyone goes back and forth. Gaining letters and making tricks harder and harder till you wipe out completely. 

A girl on a longboard had come into the skatepark a little after you and your small group of friends had started playing and you felt like she’d get in the way but you didn’t think she’d be the reason you would suffer a broken arm. 

You groan in pain before sitting up and looking at your arm, “Fuck not again,” you sigh. Your left arm was always the arm you’d break, you don’t know why it was always your left arm but it was. In all your years of skating you’ve only ever broken the left arm, never the right. 

The person on the longboard came skating back around, hopping off her board and picking it up, “That doesn’t look too good,” she says, and you look up and over to her. 

“It’s broken of course it doesn’t,” was your response as you are helped up by Mari who leads you over to Akilah. The longboard girl follows the two of you over to the side line.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asks and you glare over at her.

“There is, watch where you’re going when on that thing,” you point to the longboard that was now under her arm. 

She shakes her head, “I can pay for your hospital visit. I would rather not get insurance involved with this.”

“Fine.” 

Soon enough you were in the ambulance. None of your friends at the skatepark had a car, and of course today was the day Shauna had to be busy and couldn’t make it to the skatepark. 

For whatever reason your friends let the longboard girl go in the ambulance with you. You could feel her eyes bearing into the side of your head. You didn’t pay any attention to her as you just kept your eyes trained on one of the walls of the ambulance. 

Hours later you were finally out of the cramped room they had brought you too once making it to the hospital and now had a cast on your arm. You walked through the waiting room and pasted the longboard girl who got up and followed you out. 

You look over to her once out of the hospital and she smiles at you, “Everything is paid for,” she tells you, and she then looks through her bag and pulls out a few flowers and hands them to you, “Have a good day.”

And then you're left alone, walking back to your place. 

Walking into your house, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the couch you notice a small piece of paper sticking out of the flowers, which you had thrown onto the table. 

You read the small note. A name and phone number printed on it, “Huh, Lottie Matthews,” you mumble out and grab your phone, putting her number into your contacts.

#yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie mathews x reader

[tunastime]

if you are perhaps still doing the ficlet prompt thing... ethubs with #14??

hi! it's been so long since i've done one of these, anon, so this was a really nice break from working on other stuff. sorry it's been a second since i saw this! though, fair warning, it is based on another fic! a special scene from my space au! <3

I accidentally did both prompts, but I hope you enjoy regardless :>

14. Bruised / Kissed (words: 933) (x)

“Here’s my argument,” Etho starts, watching Bdubs carry the clunky, white box of medical supplies over to the bedside. His eyes follow his hands, mouth moving on its own accord, it seems, as he babbles uselessly, trying to not sound as nervous as he feels. His stomach is twisted into knots, so much so he was barely able to stomach dinner. “I need to go out there, it has to get done one way or another.”

Bdubs sets the heavy case at the foot of the bed. It settles with a dull thump. The thing is, and Etho can tell as he reads Bdubs’ face, he’s being stupid. He’s right to be stupid, though, knowing, personally, that the work has to get done, and that Bdubs can’t and frankly won’t step into the flight suit. It didn’t matter if his suit had a hole in it, really. They had four made—two for each of them in case of a breach. And even then, Etho is good with his hands. He can patch the original suit just fine. Besides, his body took the brute force of the hit, tearing him open for a fraction of a second. It’s a two by one tear in the suit, that’s nothing! 

Bdubs’ frown is less evident in his mouth than it is the furrow between his eyebrows and the set of his jaw. Etho deflates as Bdubs sits in the chair in front of him. He watches his jaw work, trying pointedly to ignore the brush of stubble forming on his face, or the way his deep brown eyes flick over Etho’s shoulder and neck. He sighs a particularly weary sound and drags the first aid kit over to beside his knee, lifting it into his lap. He still hasn’t made proper eye contact with Etho, his body language doing little to suggest he’s even heard his suggestion in the first place. That knotted feeling in Etho’s stomach is starting to sink into a cold, muscle-weakening dread, diffusing out through his body from his core. He swallows it back, or at least tries to. His hands find each other in his lap, and his thumb finds a broken notch of one nail. He worries it under the pad of his finger as his eyes study Bdubs’ face for anything. 

Nothing.

“Bdubs,” he starts. Bdubs’ eyes flick up to him. His expression is cold only for a moment, before it softens around his mouth and eyes and Etho’s heart squeezes tightly in his chest. The words won’t come out of his throat. Bdubs’ expression looks like a no.

“Let’s see the stitches, Etho,” he says, far too gently to feel like it should be for Etho. Etho draws his hands back, one coming to lift the grey shirt he’s wearing up the side of his ribs, and the other to peel away the gauze covering a line of dark-threaded stitches. Bdubs frowns properly then, mouth twisting in thought.

“I can fix it,” Etho says, voice taking on an insistent edge. Bdubs sighs hard through his nose.

“I don’t care if you can fix it,” he says. “I can’t let you go out there again.”

“‘Dubs.”

“Etho, please,” Bdubs tries. He looks up at Etho for the briefest of moments, eyes wide and dark and Etho feels his heart leap into his throat. He’s standing in the decompression chamber barely able to breathe. He’s being impaled and feeling blood trip through his fingers. Bdubs swallows. Etho watches. “Don’t.”

“Fine,” Etho says, voice suddenly quiet. “I…I won’t.”

Bdubs peels off the last bit of tape, his voice dropping in volume as he works. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, and the silence feels heavy around his words, both before, and after them.

“Do you promise?” he asks, and Etho can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“I promise,” he lies. He swallows down the taste of it.

“It’s looking better,” Bdubs says and smooths a dry piece of gauze gently over it. Another piece gets sectioned off for Etho to hold with his free hand, and Bdubs tears off two sections of tape. He presses the gauze flat against the stitching, taping it to Etho’s skin, smoothing it out with his thumbs. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary, thumbs pressed to Etho’s skin and where the tape begins.

“That’s good,” Etho says, despite the fact that there’s a purple-green bruise from the impact crawling up the side of his ribs. His voice comes a little breathless, but he knows it’s not from worry anymore. Bdubs’ eyes flick up to meet him, and something about the way they settle on him makes something warm curl up in the pit of Etho’s stomach. Bdubs smiles, and Etho can’t help the smile that forms on his face in response, just the smallest curve of his mouth to match the soft look Bdubs fixes him with. Bdubs’ hands come up to cup his face, drawing his head down toward him. Pressing his lips to the space between Etho’s eyebrows, Bdubs kisses him, sighing through his nose, leaning against his forehead as he pulls his lips away. Etho’s hands reach to find any point of contact with Bdubs, reaching his knees, pressing his palms to them. He hums under his breath, feeling that warm thing settle more into his chest.

“Damn right it’s good,” Bdubs whispers.

Etho’ll have to fix that communication disk one way or another. But for now, he can sit with Bdubs resting here, despite how short, how much of a fraction of a moment that is. Etho can’t help but laugh. 

At least he has this, for now.

#ethubs #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #mcyt #mcyt fic #fics #text #spacer au #sen au #stretching endless night #now with a new title! #rghrghrhgbrghrh they make me so so so crazy i forgot how much i love love ethubs #i always forget until open spacer to start working on it

[eternally-smitten]

Drabblecember - Trying To Stay Up Late

pairing: Natalie x Herbert West

summary: Herbert finds Natalie staying up late waiting for him to come home

content warnings: blood mention

word count: 933

author's note: ...I really feel behind on this. my drawing inspired me to pick this back up before it ended!

Another late night. 

Another night spent alone in the name of science. 

Yet another night filled with dread and horror.

On days like these, Natalie refused to sleep. Well, it was less refusal and more the fact that her worries kept her up at night so she couldn’t rest even if she wanted to. So, instead of even remotely trying to get some shuteye, she sat at the kitchen table in his shared living space chewing on the skin of her thumb. 

She couldn’t feel right until Herbert came back. Her mind wouldn’t let her relax until her fears were reassured or confirmed. She also knew that this type of anxiety wasn’t doing her any favors but Natalie didn’t care to think about that just now. Her slippers tapped quietly against the tiled floor as she stared at the kitchen entrance. Any minute now. It has to be any minute now that he walks through that door and lets her know she’s okay. Only then will she finally be able to relax tonight.

Finally, as if her prayers had been answered, Natalie heard the front door creak open. The sudden noise made her jump in her seat slightly and straighten her tense position. The sound of footsteps approached her until Herbert appeared in the walkway. Even in the dark room, she could tell that he was incredibly disheveled. His shirt was creased and stained with flecks of blood, his hair was unkempt, and his tie wasn’t straight. 

“Glad you’re back.” She whispered in a hushed voice. Even while being quiet, you could tell she was being sincere.

Hebert didn’t respond. Instead, he sighed heavily and approached her, sinking to his knees in front of her. He then stretched himself across her lap and nestled his head against her thigh. His eyes fluttered shut as he allowed his body to relax while laying on top of her.

Natalie ran her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him, “You really should ease up on these late night experiments…the laundry is getting pretty intense.” She said, half-joking.

“Hmm,” Herbert hummed. Even though it wasn’t a full sentence or even a word, Natalie was glad he was sort of talking to her.

“Seriously, it’s getting harder and harder to get these wretched stains out.” She pinched a part of his stained sleeve, “I’m starting to think you should invest in getting black button ups instead. We could match.”

He shrugged, not wanting to move a lot or open his eyes. For once, all he wanted was this sort of human connection. He only really ever wanted it when it was from Natalie.

She rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades, “I really wish you wouldn’t work yourself to the bone like this. If you need help, please just ask me. I want to ensure that you come back in one piece.”

“You don’t like my work,” He mumbled, finally speaking to her, “It frightened you that first time.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to help you.” She leaned in close so that she could hear him better, “Besides, the thought of you doing such dangerous tasks alone scares me more than helping you with them.”

He shifted slightly so that he could look up at her and see her better, “You’d really do that?”

Natalie nodded, “Of course I would.”

“It might be better to have an extra pair of hands while I work…” He whispered, more to himself than to her.

“Just promise me that if I help, you’ll stay safer.” She started to lecture him, “I also don’t want you staying there until the early hours of the morning.”

Herbert nodded against her thigh. He knew that she wasn’t happy with him but he was more paying attention to the fact that she agreed to help him from now on than her worrying about him getting enough rest.

With a gentle touch, Natalie lifted his head off her lap so that she could see him. He had trails of dried blood on his face and he looked exhausted. She planted a very light kiss on his forehead and sighed.

“Now, can we get you out of these soiled clothes? I bet you would feel more comfortable in fresh, clean ones.”

“Hmm,” He hummed again, surprised at himself for leaning into her touch, “If it’ll make you happy.”

“It would.” Her thumb rubbed his cheek, “Besides, I’m getting awfully tired myself. I don’t really want to stay awake any longer.”

“Understandable.” He pursed his lips into a thin line, “I never asked you to stay awake for me.”

Natalie nodded, “I know. I just wanted to make sure I saw you before I nodded off. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

She stood up from her chair, which made a quiet creaking noise, and took his hand in hers. He pulled himself up and followed her to his own room. Her words bounced around in his head as they silently did their nighttime routine. 

She wanted to see him before she went to bed. 

She wanted to see him.

She wanted him. 

It felt surreal to have someone say that about him of all people. It was equally as surprising when he actually enjoyed the feeling that came with hearing her say that. Even as she grimaced at the shirt he just ruined and her comments about how he’s running out of clean white shirts, he still felt like she was some perfect creature. 

For once in his life, after getting cleaned up and ready for bed, he actually got some sleep.

tag list: @blood-moon-ships @bobmckenzie @bioexorcizm @kylars-princess @felixrichtershubby @nonesenseships @weirdgirlgf @gideongrovel @fates-theysband please lmk if you want to be added/removed! :)

#my stuff ♡ #🫀꒦꒷alive again꒷꒦🧪 #self ship fanfiction #ok to rb! #tw blood #drabblecember2023

[tgr-2x5-roleswap-au]

You've Got Mail - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Pen Pals (April 1964)

Goodbye Fat Controller - Season 19 Episode 25

Word Count: 933

:D

~

He wrote back.

James didn't think Emily's idea would work. Sure, it had worked fine for her but that was her sister. It was someone she knew. Edward was, in the end, a foreign stranger. Yet—

"He actually wrote back!" James exclaimed, seeing the closed envelope Fred, his driver, waved in front of him with a smile. "What did he say? Can you read it, please? Please?"

James' driver chuckled at the ecstatic engine as he looked around. The engine and his crew were in a siding, with a brake van and guard in hand, awaiting clearance. There was a disturbance up the branch line. "I don't see why not, chap. We have plenty of time."

"Open it, then!"

"Calm down!" he scolded. "Not that long ago, you were brooding about."

With a snort, James retorted, "No, I wasn't!"

"We nearly missed the boat."

James huffed, letting his cheeks burn. "Ok, maybe a little."

Satisfied, the elderly raven head pulled out his pocket knife and cut the envelope open from its side. He grabbed it from the opposite end and tapped it against the palm of his hand, getting the letter out. It took a bit but it eventually slipped out and into his hands. The Englishman was about to unfold it, only to see another letter slip out. With a quick reflex, he was able to catch it before it fell onto the tracks and under James. Unlike the first one, there was writing on the outside.

Curious, Fred cleared his throat. "From Quinn Burns, a volunteer of the Furness Railway Trust," his driver read aloud, just as George, James’ fireman, quietly approached them. "I'll read this one first."

"But-!" James began.

"It could be context for what Edward has to say," interrupted his driver. "Might as well know who wrote it for him."

James hummed impatiently, receiving an eye roll from his fireman.

The driver quickly tucked the first letter and the envelope into his pockets. He opened the second letter, pinched the opposite corners between his fingers, as if it were a scroll, cleared his throat, just to get a kick out of James, and read what was written with ink on the thin sheet of paper…

.

.

.

"Greetings to James' crew! 

When the Furness Railway Trust received your engine's letter, we were quite surprised, especially with whom it was addressed. While we were aware of the mishap that led to FR 21 being on the North Western Railway by accident, we were unaware that he had made a friend. And for that, we are very grateful for!

For one, Edward didn’t have, shall we say, stable relationships in the past. When Old Coppernob was around for the Great Railway Show, Edward didn't get along with him. He ignored him the moment they met, so he's been a loner since. Considering what little he's told me about his "prime" days, I can see why.

And two, I don't think I and the rest of my colleagues have ever seen him this happy before, compared to how he reacted when we told him he'd partake in the Great Railway Show once again. Edward told me everything that happened while he was in the NWR. He was initially apprehensive about James but with the little time he spent on the island, he enjoyed his company. We're glad that he's made a friend.

Sincerely,

Quinn Burns"

.

.

.

Fred chuckled at seeing James’ face scrunch up, curious by one piece of information, joined by George.

“‘Once again’?” repeated James. “He's been to the show before?”

“Sure seems like it, old chap,” replied his driver, folding the letter back up and tucking it back into the envelope. He proceeded to do the same to the other with no writing on the outside. “Let's see what your friend's got to say,” he continued as he opened the letter, the paper audibly wrinkling.

.

.

.

“Hello there!

In all my years, I didn't expect a letter. Much less from another engine, so I would like to thank you for that, James.

I would love to be ‘pen pals.’ And I have managed to find a way, as you can tell. Mr. Burns is a very nice man. I talk to him the most and he was there when the letter came in.

How have things been? I know not much time has passed but still. We might as well start somewhere, should we not?

By the time this letter reaches you, I’ll be at the British Transport Museum. I'll be there until May. Then I'll go back to Derby for a short while. Until then, I won’t be able to answer. I’m truly sorry. I will try to respond as soon as I get back.

Sincerely,

FR 21 Edward

.

.

.

James huffed out steam in a heavy sigh. Of course, something was going on, he thought.

His "Day 1” crew picked up on the disgruntled engine. “Cheer up, old boy,” whispered his fireman, ignoring James’ “I'm not old!” “At least we know when he's going back.”

Knowing Mr. Turner was right, James snorted, eliciting a chuckle from his elderly crew. While this behavior bothered others immensely, this was the norm for the trio. No other crew knew how to handle this particular iron horse.

“We can write back later,” noted Mr. Quill as he heard a nearby shrill. He looked at the source of the sound to see their guard waving his flag. “The line's cleared.”

Satisfied with the suggestion, James agreed. Once his crew settled in, Mr. Quill opened James’ regulator with practiced ease, beginning their journey to the next job.

~

Alternatively: James and his "should've retired by now Day 1" crew.

They have tried recruiting a new crew for years by this point (Fred + George have been working with James since their late 20s) but previous candidates just couldn't get along with James, and the NWR wasn't about to risk an accident from happening because of that. The NWR will take accidents caused by the engines over the ones caused by the crews ANY DAY.

Notes:

The way Edward speaks in his letters versus his actual dialogue will be different (but progressively will be the same) since someone is writing for him, as well as guiding him with what he is trying to say.

Correcting myself with this one because I didn't say what I meant to say: Edward DOES know how to speak but the reason why he's speech is broken is due to the sudden change in his life. He did not have to deal with socializing for 4 decades (1923 - 1963), losing that practice. Now that he does interact with others, its become overwhelming. Times have changed, and so has the world around him. He has a lot to adapt to, such as social standards.

#my writing #tgr 2x5 roleswap au #ttte edward x james #a dozen years #ttte james #ttte edward #ttte shipping #you've got mail #ttte fic #ttte #ttte au

[yeehawbvby]

Leah with a farmer that was trying to be an artist, but got stuck in the dead-end Joja job and decided to quit to be a farmer, but now they miss being able to make art cause there's like no time in the day for it, so Leah sets up a whole thing for them to just make art for a whole day.

I’ve barely written for Leah before, so fingers crossed this is alright!! :’) Hope you don't mind the established relationship either.

Thanks so much for your patience, I hope you enjoy! x 

Down by the River (Leah x GN!Reader)

Rating: G | WC: 933

Sometimes when I’m out amidst my crops, I lay down for a bit and look up at the sky. I study the way the clouds make vivid shapes from their vapor; how birds fly in a perfect pattern, going Yoba knows where; the way the inner atmosphere of our planet looks hand-painted by Lupini himself. 

Other times, I’ll sit amongst my chickens and ducklings by the pond, amazed at how brightly their feathers contrast against the dull dirt, and how the water sparkles as it splashes against their plump little bodies that float atop it.

There’s so much beauty in nature, and while I love what I do, I want nothing more than to be able to create something just as beautiful as the scenery I work in every day, of every month, of every year.

My wife gets to do such things for a living. I love Leah more than life itself, but I can’t help the jealousy that seeps through me as I watch her etch away at old wood, or paint anything she wants on hand-stretched canvas at any given time of the day. It’s one of the things I love most about her – her love for art being just as fierce as mine – but I wish I could be at her side, collaborating on pieces, or simply being in each other’s presence while we do our own thing.

One early spring morning, I wake up to an empty bed. I’m used to this, though. Leah’s always been an early bird. Unlike most mornings, there’s a note waiting for me on her pillow.

“Hope you slept well <3

There’s something I wanna show you! Meet me at my place at 10.

(Don’t worry about the farm – I got up extra early to water the crops and feed the animals.)

Enjoy your morning off! :) 

P.S. There’s some freshly cut fruit in the fridge, if you want some with your breakfast!”

Relief washes over me as I lay back down on my pillow. Even through winter, I’m often busy cleaning the barns and coops or upkeeping our wine and cheese fermentation... It’s been so long since I’ve been able to simply be, much less spend even a few mere hours with my love. I take the opportunity she’s given me to sleep in a little bit longer.

_______________

As I approach Leah’s cottage, I shift through a few different emotions. 

First up is confusion. What’s all this stuff laid out on her front lawn? There’s a huge, yellow gingham picnic blanket sprawled by the river, with a small record player next to it. The blanket is covered in paints, small canvases, wood blocks, clay…

My second feeling is happiness. I notice that on the blanket is also a bottle of Blue Moon wine, with two cups and two water bottles all placed neatly in a straw basket. There are two palettes and two sets of brushes of varying sizes. Two sets of pencils, charcoals, pastels; two clusters of tools to carve and sculpt with.

Third? Love. Having expected me, Leah exits her old home just as I near her set-up. Her hair, as usual, is draped to the side in a long braid, but today she’s woven small flowers into it. Her freckled, sun-kissed cheeks are dusted beautifully pink as she looks at me from large, periwinkle eyes, waiting for my reaction to her surprise. 

“Do you like it?” she asks, basking in the scene she’s created. “I know it’s been bugging you that you never really have time to make your own art, so I figured we could spend the day doing just that!”

I nod, tears welling in my eyes. “Leah, this is perfect,” I sniffle, pulling her into my arms. Her hugs have always been just as warm and welcoming as her paintings. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you.” She pulls away from my embrace, takes my hands in hers, and meets my lips with a soft kiss before explaining herself. “You’re the reason I’m able to spend as much time on personal projects as I do commissioned work. You’ve given me the best life I could’ve asked for.”

Leah beams at me, and I swear her smile makes my stomach flutter with butterflies. She continues softly, “You know, you can ask me for help on the farm any time you want. I know you take pride in your work, but you deserve time to do the things you love too. Okay?”

I nod again, feeling a weight that I didn’t know my shoulders bore being lifted off them. Untangling our fingers, I cup Leah’s face and kiss her again. “I love you so much.” Placing my forehead gently against hers, I whisper, “Seriously, thank you for this.”

“I love you too.” My wife plants a kiss on the tip of my nose before pulling away again. She playfully quips, “You can thank me by making some cool stuff for me to look at! Come on!”

I follow her onto the blanket, my cheeks sore from grinning so widely. “Let me draw your portrait?” 

“Only if I can paint yours!” she counters. 

Having been so long since I’ve last made anything, I start off feeling a bit rusty. But just as fluidly as the river flows, I sink back into a familiar rhythm. With some of the most picturesque scenery one could ever imagine, everything I need to create anything I want within an arm’s reach, and my amazing partner at my side, I have the most perfect day I could’ve asked for.

#leah stardew valley #sdv leah #leah sdv #leah stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley leah #stardew leah #leah x reader #leah x farmer #gn! reader #no use of y/n #gender neutral insert #reader insert #gender neutral mc #gender neutral reader #sdv leah x reader #fluff #comfort #sdv request #sdv #sdv farmer #stardew farmer #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #leah fanfic #crisask #canon x reader #canon x oc #first person pov

[freesia-writes]

Howzer + Aurelia Ch. 2 + 3

Howzer stole our hearts when he appeared in TBB, and I wanted to write a bit of a backstory for him. It begins with his newbie days during TCW and stretches to where we last see him in TBB. Enjoy his character arc and some heartwarming romance, action, adventure, yearning, angst, and growth.

Master List of Chapters

Content/Trigger Warnings for Entire Work (individual chapters not labeled): wartime peril, injury, and death; pregnancy, birthing trauma, and infant loss; sexual assault up to kissing; relationship passion up to making out and heavy petting; sexual relationship alluded to but not described (no smut, sorry) ;)

I'm gonna double post the short chapters. :) Word Count: 463 and 933

2. Disillusionment

"Look sharp," Hex whispered, and Howzer stood up a bit straighter as Orn Free Taa exited the Senate chamber. Without a word, they both fell into step beside him, escorting him through the hallway. They marched smartly, DC-17s in hand, and it took all of Howzer's self-control to avoid staring at Taa's many quivering chins as he talked about his afternoon plans.

Once they arrived at the restaurant, they were dismissed to wait outside, and Howzer slumped against the building unceremoniously, groaning inwardly at his lot in life. Hex remained standing at attention next to him, and the judgment emanating from him was palpable.

"Why doesn't he have his own Twi'lek guards?" Howzer complained, pulling his helmet off. His hair had grown out a little from the standard military cut they received on Kamino, and it fell to his ears, across his forehead, in thick black pieces. He ran a hand through it, looking at Hex and continuing his protest, "Aren't they supposed to be fierce warriors or something? I mean, the ones back on Ryloth at least?"

Hex shifted his weight slightly; it was clearly not the first time he had heard these complaints. "This is our assignment. We are soldiers of the Republic, assigned to do whatever the Republic needs us to do. Would you like to take it up with the Captain?"

"No," Howzer sighed, rolling his head from one shoulder to the other, "I just didn't get the impression that our training would be preparing us to ensure that a Senator can eat all day long." He could have sworn he heard a quick laugh-turned-cough from Hex, but he decided not to push his luck.

A couple of female Twi'leks passed by on the sidewalk in front of them, and Howzer stood tall immediately, tucking his helmet under his arm and running a hand through his hair again.

"Hey, you two! How would you like a job?" he said, in an insufferably cheesy tone. "I'll hire you right here on the spot. Well, one of you. The other one can come to lunch with me."

Hex let out an audible groan then, and the Twi'leks looked at each other with a shared grimace. But Howzer was unfazed, "Now now, don't fight over it. I know it's a lot to take in all at once. Take your time, sort it out between yourselves, and let me know which one of you is the lucky lady who gets to hit the town with me."

At that, they simply turned and continued on their way, gliding down the sidewalk in a cloud of eyerolls and wrinkled noses. Howzer resumed his lean against the wall, sighing in defeat.

"Their loss."

***

Ch. 3 - Potential

Aurelia wiped the cloth across the bar counter mindlessly as she watched an hourglass-shaped BD-3000 luxury droid moving to the beat with a predictable series of motions, fully holding the clone captain's attention as he bopped along next to her. A smile crept onto Aurelia's face, accompanied by the mild fondness she always felt at the clones' behaviors.

She had worked at 79s for a few months, considering it a "place holder" while she figured out a more long-term career plan. She simultaneously had far too many aspirations at once while also feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed by all of them, settling instead to cater to the needs of a rowdy crowd most nights while she daydreamed about the possibilities.

"Whatcha thinkin about, beautiful?" came an exceedingly smooth clone voice, bringing her back to reality, and her eyes snapped into focus to see Pivot leaning on the bar across from her. She smiled, swatting her washcloth at him playfully.

"Just pining for your return, of course," Aurelia responded quickly, flipping the cloth over her shoulder and bending down to prepare his usual drink. He had been coming there long before she started, and he was as comforting as he was harmless. She had initially been put off by what seemed like advances, but when she realized there was nothing behind them other than flattery and fun, she relaxed and played along.

"Well, feast your eyes," Pivot answered, sliding some credits across the counter to her as she poured the drink from the shaker into a highball glass. She plopped a couple bright berries on the top and pushed it toward him.

"Consider them feasted."

Pivot laughed, giving her a playful salute as he scooped up his glass and made his way back to his squad in a corner booth.

***

"I mean, if you think about it, it seems like such a simple solution," Howzer said, gesturing abstractly with one hand. "I can't wait to show them what some real strategy looks like."

"I'm sure they'll be grateful," purred the Mirialan next to him, cupping her face in her hand and resting an elbow on the table, looking up at him with admiration.

"Well, it's what we were made for," he answered, puffing up a bit more. This had been going surprisingly well, and he fought to keep his composure. "So, any other plans tonight?"

She shook her head demurely, muttering something about unpacking some cargo crates.

"I've got a little something you can unpack," Howzer chortled, "If you need some practice."

"Ugh," came the reply, and she quickly excused herself without another word. He leaned back in the booth, allowing a brief sigh before regathering himself and rising to his feet. He ambled to the bar counter, scanning the room for any familiar faces long the way and seeing none. He missed Sprint, who was his usual companion when his romantic pursuits came up empty, and consoled himself by imagining what sort of missions his brother may have been enjoying.

"Can I get you anything?"

Howzer looked up, finding the bartender waiting patiently across from him, wiping a glass as she regarded him with a slightly tilted head. Now this he could work with. He leaned jauntily against the counter, flashing his roguish grin and turning on the charm.

"Listen, I know you probably have a lot of questions, but before we dive in, you can go ahead and take a moment to soak it all in. I'm sure you're wondering how you, of all people, managed to find the best-looking clone, right here in your own bar."

Aurelia smirked at the blatant irony of his phrase, fully prepared with a tongue-in-cheek response, "'Best-looking clone'? Did they teach you about irony on Kamino?"

"They taught us about everything," Howzer returned evenly, "So if you've got any questions, I'd be happy to let you in on all the mysteries of the galaxy." He raised one eyebrow with a distinctly fiendish air, eyes roving from her curly black hair to her full lips. Her nose was a bit beakish, but she had pretty eyes, dark and intelligent.

"Wow. What an offer," she marveled, pressing the back of a hand to her forehead as if about to faint. This came with the territory, sure, but could also become tiresome. She yearned for any conversation of substance, but was realizing more and more that this was not the atmosphere for that. "In the meantime... Can I get you anything?"

"I'll take a fizz, thanks, but what about you? What are your wildest dreams?" Howzer inquired, eager to continue their exchange.

"To sit under a tree on a cloudy day and read poetry from an actual book," Aurelia answered without missing a beat. She turned to get a bottle from the refrigerator behind her, missing the flash of surprise on Howzer's face. He looked serious for a moment, something working its way through his brain, but was back to his cocky little show when she turned back around.

"Wow," he bantered, "What refined taste you have. I'll get right on that." He exchanged his credits for the bottle, then offered a hand, "The name's Howzer."

"Aurelia," she responded, shaking his hand and secretly hoping his desire for attention had been satisfied.

"Aurelia," he echoed, trying it on for size, "Fancy name for a fancy lady. Alright, Aurelia. I'll be seeing you. Try to hold it together until we meet again." Howzer popped the cap from the bottle, flipped it toward her like a coin, gave her a wink, and sauntered off.

Feel free to tag a friend who loves Howzer, or comment to be added to the tag list! <3

@mary-on-the-contrary @doublesunsets @523rdrebel

#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #commander howzer #captain howzer #howzer #tbb howzer #the bad batch howzer #clone trooper howzer #howzer x oc #star wars fanfics #star wars fic #star wars #star wars fluff

[ros-is-writing]

Polyeclipse arranged marriage/mafia au drabble pt1!

Characters: Zam, Mapicc, Ro

Word count: 933

Next

“It’s just gone? Like that??” Zam asked, open mouthed in the politest way he could manage. Outright yelling in a meeting like this was definitely not acceptable, but seriously??

“Our sources are reporting that the Pierce Mafia has collapsed,” the captain repeated, visibly shaking in fear. Across the table, Mapicc whistled and sat back in his chair, impressed. 

Every executive sitting at the table was showing various degrees of the same emotion. Shock. The Pierce Mafia was massive, it took up a whole city while Zam’s family fought over the neighboring city with other groups. Its collapse would create an equally large power vacuum. Which, for obvious reasons, was an opportunity. 

Zam’s mind was already racing, their neighboring city had resources upon resources, they would be powerful beyond imagining if they managed to fill the space at the Pierce family left. But how? Could they just walk in and take power? They didn’t even know how Pierce had collapsed, for all they knew the boss and his executives could still be out there. 

Zam turned to his left, looking for the expression on the Boss's face. To his surprise, she was startlingly calm. Every other executive was deep in thought, eyes flicking back and forth as they imagined different situations, but she just sat there, waiting for their attention to return to her. One by one, the executives look to the Boss, realizing she already had a plan. She slowly lifted her hand, scrubbed her nails with her thumb, then said: 

“Get me in contact with Eclipse.” 

— 

“I still don’t get why we’re working with motherfucking Eclipse,” Mapicc complained as he slid into the back seat of the car. “Aren’t they our number one enemy here?” 

Zam shrugged and pulled his door closed, motioning for Mapicc to do the same. “An enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he quoted, waving his hands around like that made it make sense. 

“Our enemy is fucking dead, no ones seen Pierce in weeks,” Mapicc pointed out. “I don’t think we have a common enemy anymore. I think it’s just us.”

“We don’t have a common enemy but we do have a common goal,” Zam said. “Pierce's city is massive, we can’t control it and our home city ourselves. We’re letting Eclipse take half on the terms that they help us put down any rebellions, and we do the same for them.” 

“That’s what the Boss told me at least,” Zam finished. 

“How though?” Mapicc asked. “How is this agreement with Eclipse working? They’re a bunch of backstabbers, everyone in Eclipse is a backstabber, how do we know they won’t backstab us?” 

“Mapicc, you’re a backstabber, stop talking.” Came Roshambo’s voice from the front seat of the car. 

“Shut the fuck up Ro,” Mapicc complained. “You’re in soldier mode right now, drive the car.” He leaned forward and tugged on a piece of Ro’s hair, making him shout and whip his hair away. 

“Stop doing that! You’re literally pulling my pigtails right now, didn’t know you liked me like that, wow.” 

“You’re deranged.” Mapicc deadpanned with no acknowledgement of Ro violently switching tones. “Also this is a ponytail.” He reached through the hole between the seat and the headrest and pulled Ro’s ponytail though. As he turned back to Zam and started speaking again, he began to braid Ro’s hair. 

“All I’m saying is, what’s in it for Eclipse besides power? They have enough of that, they have so much of that. Too much.”

“Maybe they’re going to take over our city once we spread our resources thin in the Pierce’s territory,” Ro suggested.

“Ro! Shut up!” Mapicc exclaimed, yanking his hair again. “Sorry!” Ro laughed, “I have a point though!” 

“He does have a point actually,” Zam interrupted before Mapicc could jump over the seat and throttle Ro. He wasn’t sure why Mapicc kept up their soldier-executive relationship when they were in public. Mapicc and Ro had been friends since before Zam met them, so it didn't make sense why Mapicc would want the illusion that they weren’t. But anyway- 

“Ro does have a point but, the Pierce’s city is a lot more valuable than ours. Eclipse won’t be satisfied with just our territory in our city, they want their share of the Pierce’s city too.” 

Mapicc and Ro nodded at Zam’s words, they knew he was right. Or rather, they knew that the Boss was right, she told Zam that. 

“The Boss has a plan, remember?” Zam added. “She already has an agreement with Eclipse.” 

“It’s like she knew the Pierce Mafia was going to fall,” Ro mused to the silent car. 

“I don’t think she did…” Zam admitted. “Or if she did, she never told me anything.” 

“She’s creepy,” Mapicc said bluntly. “No offense,” he added, looking at Zam. 

“Not offended,” Zam shrugged. “That’s my sister, I’ve said worse!” All three of them laughed because it was true! Behind the privacy of closed doors and un-bugged rooms, Zam complained a lot about the Boss. He loved her though, nothing could break the bond he had with her sister. She was just so annoyingly cryptic sometimes. 

“But seriously,” Ro brought them back to the conversation. “What does Eclipse value?” Mapicc and Zam went quiet, thinking. Mapicc was right earlier, Eclipse was notoriously full of backstabbers. If you weren’t officially part of the Mafia, you weren’t guaranteed safety. And you most definitely weren’t safe if you were part of an opposing group. 

Maybe that was it though. It was the same as Zam and his sister. 

“Family,” Zam said. “Eclipse values family over everything else.”

#I hate titling this as polyeclipse because this specific drabble very much does not have them in it #but I dont have a name for the au yet so I'm just calling it what it is #If anyone has suggestions for a name for this au I would love to hear them! #Also I'm looking for suggestions for Zam's sisters name too! #lifesteal smp #lssmp #princezam #mapicc #roshambogames #I'll just tag whose here right now I guess #ros fics

[soleilnomoon]

Can I please have some fluff with gn/male reader with Marco (OP) please? Just like he's up at night and they bring him a tea and keep him company or something.

Thank you so much <3<3

hi! omg thanks for requesting marco, i love, love him so much 😊 also thanks for being patient (i'm so slow with writing these days 😭)

933 words, gn / m reader, sfw, 18+, mdni, teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff mostly! (i promise), feat. marco being a night owl & reader being a little worried abt him. also marco def knows he's charming >.>

“our eyes are full of terrible confessions” — anne sexton

dreamless nights bloom into restless mornings, that, when watered carefully over the hours of the day, drown you back into the impossible sea of night — where all you can do is agonize over questions that don’t necessarily require answers. you covet the information all the same. a bubbling need to consume, that rattles bones with every step you take, a hollow feeling that leaves you raw and yearning; always for something more. the vestige of denial, of the things you truly want, meticulously folded until its barely noticeable; a haunted soul requiring a skilled set of hands to expunge the darkness completely.

it’s what prompts you to stay awake for as long as you can, in the hopes of finding a sliver of warmth — one that you can carry with you daily, to chase your demons at night. in your delirium, you leave the comfort of your room, softly walking through the long corridors before reaching the kitchen. you take your time boiling water in a kettle, decide on which tea leaves to use, and carry a small tray with two cups of tea — the steam wafting around the rim of the cups.

despite what most might thing, marco prefers the solitude of the night versus the day; there are so many people aboard the ship, that it’s hard to find a moment of peace, where he can have time for himself and his work. his room functions as an office, bookshelves packed with thick books — medical texts both old and new, encyclopedias and the like, journals he’s collected over the years — on his desk is an untouched plate of food, several balled up pieces of paper, a small stack of books that he’s thumbed through over the course of the night, and an inkwell that’s run out of ink.

he twirls his quill absently, leaning back against the wooden chair with his eyes closed. for some reason, his mind continues to run — on and on, thoughts battering the inside of his head without remorse, leaving him with headaches that make it nearly impossible to socialize during the day. the rare moments where he does feel at ease, are when you come by to visit him.

a soft glow of light spills out from his room, beckoning you closer — his door is ajar, as usual, almost as if he can’t be bothered to close it all the way late at night, or because he knows someone might need him. 

that maybe you might need him.

he barely stirs when you step inside completely, using the back of your foot to close the door behind you; it’s a practiced move, as you often find yourself wandering the corridors aimlessly, only to find yourself in front of his door at the end of your journey, knocking softly and seeking out his company.

because you’ve noticed that he’s been sleeping a little less these days, you figure that tea might help soothe and lull him to sleep.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know,” he says idly, head turning in your direction as he watches you balance the tray in your hands.

“you’re not sleeping,” you say quietly and place the tray on his desk, “a cup of tea won’t kill you.” his subsequent laughter — at your candid words, your stern expression — brings a faint flush to your cheeks, making it difficult to keep focused. “don’t laugh at me,” you tug on his cheek lightly, which earns you a soft chuckle instead. what he really wants to tell you, is that he thinks your concern is cute — and is appreciative of your efforts to help him out. he decides to save that for another night.

“thank you for the tea,” you let go of his cheek, a warmth fluttering around your chest as he leans over to grab the cup; you don’t move away, though, and instead watch him sip the tea carefully. his brow quirks upward when he catches you staring, so you grab your own cup and sip quietly. drumming your fingers along the desk as you glance around the room — his bed remains untouched, meaning he has no intention of sleeping tonight; you frown at that and your lips part as you toy with the right words to say.

marco doesn’t give you the opportunity; he wraps his fingers around your wrist and his thumb slowly rubs against the inside, whatever you want to say gets lost and your mind clouds with ridiculous thoughts. a smile tugs on your lips even though you try to hide it as you drink the rest of your tea. eventually you grab the other chair in the room and sit next to him, softly chatting away, a calmness blanketing over your shoulders, making you feel light and at ease. marco abandons his work to sit with you instead, enjoying the way you animatedly talk with your hands and the way your voice helps to settle his thoughts, slowing them down completely.

despite his initial skepticism, the tea does make him feel a little sleepy, and he struggles to fight the sudden wave of sleepiness, so that he can hold on to that tranquility. he tells himself that it’s simply because it would be rude to doze off while you speak, but both of you know better than that. still, you admire his determination to stay awake where eventually he succumbs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow to lay his head on the desk comfortably.

#fic request #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #marco the phoenix #marco fluff #marco x reader #marco x y/n #when will marco let me sit by his side i wonder #marco--the--phoenix #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n