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Oh Robin, you aren’t so far away from the truth.
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#one piece#one piece art#one piece fan art#one piece meme#?#meme#??#sir crocodile#nico robin#i guess she discovered something#be careful croc#crocodile one piece#nico robin one piece#robin one piece#canonverse#crocodad#dadodile#< implied#redraw#croc chest is huge here#I’m not sorry for that 🥴
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⚠️CW: suggestive words
The usukus au poll on twitter had a tie between cardverse and nationverse so here's something to celebrate the wins!!
Remember, there are many flavors of usukus out there, so don't hesitate to look for flavors or make your own flavor yourself. Others out there will have similar tastes as you, and a meal is best eaten with others! (We keep cooking with this ship, despite them being tasteless af XDD)
#hetalia#usuk#ukus#usukus#aph england#aph america#hws england#hws america#arthur kirkland#alfred f jones#hetalia america#hetalia england#hetalia world stars#hetalia fanart#hws fanart#aph fanart#cardverse#canonverse#hello fellow astronomers
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And just like that, she’d fallen for him.
Spring. Summer. Autumn. The world had its cycles. There had been peace before war, and peace would come after bloodsheds and battles.
Katara looks at Zuko, at how he stares out to the width in the horizons. The curves of his nose and lips are soft, much like the colors of the leaves around them. The lines of his jaw and cheeks are sharp, in contrast.
He’s a beautiful man; she’s always thought so, even when they were enemies and he’d sworn he’d kill them. She likes it better this way, though— being friends, confidants, long-time companions. Kindness suits him more, either way. She likes how his face looks when he’s calm, — when there’s no rage to contort his scar, no scowl furrowing his brow.
She also likes that he knows her. That they can stand, silence pending between them, and it’s never too tense or uncomfortable. Zuko is just that good to her. He never puts too much pressure on her shoulders, — she’s had enough of that already. Instead, he soothes the rough edges. Lets her make her own choices and never judges her for them.
He looks back at her. An easy smile grazes his features; baffling, tortuous, beautiful. Katara has to fight the urge to freeze some water from her bottle and smash it across her searing face.
��Do you wanna…”, his voice cuts through the wind, raspy as it ever was. When he talks, it’s evident that he’s nervous. That he’s been circling around his thoughts and can’t seem to find the words. “I mean…”, he tries again. “Do you wanna stay here until you decide what to do?”
She hums, then turns her gaze back to the gardens. Aang had asked her to travel the world along with him, — to be by his side and help other people, from other nations and villages. She had yet to give him a proper answer.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to— go on missions, hear the masses’ suffering and be present in whatever way she could. Maybe, it was that she simply had pictured something different for herself. She could be so much more than just the “Avatar’s girl”! She could go home, lend a useful hand to Sokka and her dad advocating for their tribe. She could be an ambassador.
She could be with Zuko.
She can imagine the whole thing all too well, actually, — being on the palace, with him, until she could confront Aang about what to do. They could go for an evening stroll, feed turtleducks by the lake. Zuko’d make tea way past dinner time, and she’d laugh along with Suki when he’d burn his tongue by the first sip.
“There’s nothing I’d like more.”, she tells him, then. They are in one of the many balconies, staring out at the sun. The last scraps of summer have flushed with the breeze, and now the trees look all kinds of reds, yellows, oranges. Almost like they’ve caught on fire.
Zuko smiles at her again. A shy, wonderful thing that makes his eyes glint. His hair’s shaggy and overgrown, and falls limp between the honey of his irises. His cheeks burn a bright pink that, Katara deduces, might be from the gentle light warming up their faces.
“Okay.”, he says. He likes this, as well, — having her around. That he can open up to someone he can share his scars with, both the physical and the ones that lay underneath.
Katara inches close to him, just enough so that their elbows nudge together. The world has its cycles, she believes. Blue skies bleed into the darkness of the night. Ice defrosts when heated-up. And just like that, she’d fall for Zuko— delicate, and raw, and over and over. Helpless, like the moon that carries down the tides. Hopeless, like the autumn leaves that fall, ever so slow, and now gather at their feet like sea-foam.
“Okay.”
#zutara#zuko#katara#fire lord zuko#fanfiction#fanfic#drabble#oneshot#post canon#post war#canon compliant#canonverse#fluff#tooth rotting fluff#avatar the last airbender#atla#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#established friendship#friends to lovers#best friends#realization of feelings#feelings realization
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𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 || 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐨(𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐀)

summary: Zoro surprises you with a compliment and you express your appreciation with a surprise of your own—by unintentionally stealing his first kiss. genre: fluff cw: added just a li'l bit of spice wc: 3.3k kana's notes: This was originally suppose to be a drabble, but ig I couldn't help myself😓. Anyways hope you enjoy my fellow Zoro lovers :D
“Told you it was a waste of time.” Nami drawls as she continues to peruse through racks of clothes searching for an outfit to wear for tonight’s dinner while you sit, sulking in a corner next to a discarded heap.
“You don’t have to rub it in y’know.” You lift your head from off your knees to peer up at your friend with a pout. “I’m already regretting all my past decisions.” You say, feeling heat bloom at your cheeks as you recall the couple of model worthy poses (well at least you think they were) you’d mustered up the courage to perform in front of a certain green-haired individual as you tried on multiple styles of clothes ranging from cute to elegant along with a few that showed off some skin— none seeming to had piqued the swordsman’s interest. Not even shamelessly batting your lashes had been enough to earn an ounce of a reaction from him except for his concern that something might have gotten stuck in your eye.
You release a stifled cry at the embarrassing memory, plopping your head back down onto your knees.
“Why did I have to fall for someone incapable of giving a girl a decent compliment?” You say, your words muffled by the fabric of the outfit you’re wearing.
Fishing for compliments wasn’t a habit of yours and seeking validation for your appearance, especially from a guy, definitely wasn’t either. You knew you were a hottie— by your standards anyways. It’s just that you really had somewhat of a thing for Zoro who you’d known for some time now, and hearing him compliment you for just once in your life, no matter how small it was—even if it was only a single word—would be more than enough to send you, having lived a fulfilling life, right to heaven’s pearly white gates.
“C’mon, it’s not the end of the world.” Nami crouches down at your level, giving you a tender pat on the head and you peek an eye open at her to notice that she’s changed into a beautiful and traditional chinese dress; its red colour complementing her ginger-orange hair.
“I’ve already told you, you look great. Sexy and cute— a deadly combination.” She gives you a wink and you giggle lightly at the action.
“Thanks, Nami.” You smile.
“No problem.” She lightly pinches your cheeks before standing to her full height. “Now let's finish getting ready, shall we?” She extends a hand down at you. “I have a bet to win.”
You playfully roll your eyes, remembering her bet with Luffy before taking her hand, the two of you making your way out the grandeur of the closet.
Later at night, under the dazzling lights of a grand chandelier, you and the rest of your newly formed crew along with Usopp—a boy you and the others recently befriended—stand scattered about the spacious foyer of Miss Kaya’s home, awaiting the birthday girl’s presence as you mingle and indulge your taste buds with lavish delicacies being served around on silver platters.
While you and the crew wine and dine, Zoro stands amongst his own company near the staircase, nursing in his hands, his fourth glass of cocktail—deep brown eyes pinned on your form standing beside Luffy and Usopp.
He watches as you converse with them and as you chow down on platter after platter of food like it’s the last meal of your life alongside Luffy, his gaze drinking in your every smile, your every laugh and the adorable expressions you make as you stuff your cheeks full with every bit of food that comes your way. It makes him wonder if you and Luffy are having a full on eating competition at the rate the two of you are going.
He only takes his gaze off you when he realises his glass is empty after he goes to chug some of the liquid down, discarding it onto a nearby end table laden with a few more empty glasses alike.
His eyes then search across the room for the server, wanting to satiate his taste for more alcohol, flitting over in your direction when he hears the sound of your voice calling his name.
“Zoro, you’ve gotta try these!”
Zoro watches as you approach him with animated steps and glances down at the tray you carry in your hands to see chocolate, pink and milk-white covered squares.”
“Is that cho—”
“Yes! And it’s really good!” You bounce on the balls of your feet, the action making Zoro suspect that you’d had way too much chocolate than your sweet tooth could handle.
“Here, you should try this one.”
“Chocolate isn’t really my th—” Zoro cuts himself short when he sees one of your hands pick up a chocolate-coated square, offering it to him.
He looks down at the piece of chocolate pinched lightly between your fingers, then back up at your face beaming with a wide smile and then around the room at everyone occupied either in conversation or eating, before returning to settle his gaze back onto you.
He heaves a sigh. “Does it have alcohol?”
“I don’t think so, but I can go ask if there's any wi—”
“No, it’s fine.”
Zoro stops you before you can leave, and you watch as he leans forward a bit, shuts his eyes and slightly parts his lips, his actions causing your head to tilt slightly in confusion.
Your questioning look, however, doesn’t last long, slowly fading away and morphing into one of surprise when your brain registers the purpose of his actions.
You almost heave a cough, feeling heat creep up your neck; burning at your cheeks while your hand remains extended with the chocolate held between your fingers as you continue to stand there, unmoving, simply staring up at him— up at a sight you never quite expected to see or would ever see.
When Zoro doesn’t feel any sign of sugary sweet pressing against his lips, he peeks an eye open to see you staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape.
“What are you waiting for?”
“N-Nothing!” Your voice immediately squeaks out.
Zoro only lets out a hum at your response before once again closing his eyes, waiting for you to feed him the chocolate square.
You swallow hard. And your heart rate picks up as you inch the chocolate closer to his mouth, its beat increasing more so when the tips of your fingers brush against his soft lips.
When Zoro feels a sweet warmth mixed with a hint of salt melting against his tongue, he doesn’t have much of a reaction and simply opens his eyes to look down at you.
“I-It’s good? Isn’t it?”
Zoro nods. “Yeah.”
Silence.
“Okay, well, um..I’m gonna go,” you say with a nervous chuckle, pointing a thumb behind you. “Gonna see what else they uh, gotta eat.” You slowly start to reverse your steps, bumping into the server behind you as you do, almost knocking her over along with the full platter of food in her hands.
You profusely apologise to the woman who sends you a disapproving glare before continuing with robot-like movement back in the direction you came, unable to see the hint of red that colours the tips of Zoro’s ears and also the way his gaze lingers on your retreating figure, all the while he stands there regretting that he still couldn’t find the courage nor the right words to tell you how beautiful you were in the outfit you’d chosen to wear tonight, and how cute, pretty—and sexy you looked in the many more he had watched you try on.
When Kaya’s birthday dinner unfortunately comes to an early close due to her outbreak of rattling coughs, she’s kind enough to allow you along with your friends to stay the night unlike her overprotective butler who wasn’t keen on extending your stay, especially after Luffy and his big rubber mouth revealed that you were pirates.
However, instead of lying, snuggled under the thick, warm blankets of a queen size bed, you traverse through a dim-lit hallway in search of the kitchen to help yourself to a midnight snack.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have given up on looking for Luffy.” You murmur to yourself as you continue to amble along the empty halls with no sense of direction as to where you were going, involuntarily releasing a gasp when your body suddenly collides into another, one more firmer than your own, just as you round a nearby corner.
You look up at the figure that slightly towers over your form, a much less startled expression on their face.
“Z-Zoro?!” You breathe a sigh of relief at the swordsman’s presence. “Thank the heavens you're not that scary butler. What are you doing here?” Your eyes dart down to the three swords attached to his right hip.
“I’m looking for a drink.” Zoro watches as you place a hand across your chest, attempting to calm yourself down from the jumpscare he’d unintentionally given you. “What about you?”
“Food hunt.” You look back up at him with a small smile.
“...Right.”
There’s a lull in the conversation as you notice Zoro’s gaze fall behind you and on instinct, you turn around to see where his eyes follow.
“Where’s Luffy?”
The swordsman expected that if you were here; Luffy was here, as the two of you seemed to be joined at the hip everywhere you went, especially when food was involved.
You turn your gaze back to him. “Back in his room, I guess.” You say, your hand no longer attached to your chest trying to calm your racing heart. “I did plan on inviting him, but I don’t know where his room is.”
Something that wasn’t your fault since you were the first to be assigned a room and didn’t get to see where the others’ rooms were.
“So…” you drawl and Zoro glances down at you to see your lips curve into a mischievous smirk. .
“Since Luffy isn’t here...” you continue. “Wanna be my partner in crime instead? You know, help me scour the kitchen for some gold?” You suggest, with a slight wiggle of your eyebrows.
Your words seem to pique the swordsman’s interest as similar to you, a smirk pulls at his lips and he makes a gesture with his head for you to lead the way and you do, him falling in step beside you.
Apparently, you taking the lead was not the best idea when it came to navigating through a house designed like a maze—a fact you should have known with hindsight—as you and Zoro still continue to roam around the mansion like headless chickens for what seems like about an hour.
“Why is this place so huge?!” You groan and release somewhat of a frustrated cry, already feeling the urge to quit your endeavour of a kitchen raid. Though, you do not act on the tempting idea since you have no clue of the direction you and Zoro came from—the soft grumbles of your stomach doing little to curb your frustration.
Zoro, as he walks beside you, remains silent at your mini-breakdown, his head craning in your direction when he hears you speak again.
“By the way,” You start. “How was the party?” You ask, trying—key word, trying— to keep your mind from being occupied by the thought of food and mostly because you couldn’t let the opportunity of your alone time with Zoro slip past you.
“The alcohol was good.”
You wait to hear if he will add more, but he doesn’t, not surprised that his reply ends rather abruptly.
“Yeah, it was.” You agree.
Zoro arches an inquisitive brow. “You drink?”
“Not exactly. But the mocktails were great and so was the food.” You smile and so does Zoro, one so faint that your eyes fail to catch it, when he recalls the happy expression on your face as you devoured any and everything that passed your way; continuing to listen at the soft and vibrant melody of your voice that fills his ears.
“...and what I loved most of all were the desserts, especially those choco..lates.” Your voice suddenly falls when the memory of you feeding Zoro pops into mind, together with how soft his lips felt when your fingers brushed against them.
“Something wrong?”
You glance to your right to see that Zoro is looking at you with a concerned expression, your face warming from his attention.
“Ah, N-No. Nothing’s wrong.” You reassure him with a small smile. “Just got sidetracked, that’s all.” You go silent shortly after your response when your eyes make the mistake of flickering down to his lips and quickly turn your attention away from him, dropping your gaze to the ground.
Zoro doesn’t know what causes your sudden silence which prolongs as you both continue down the hall, but he does know that he misses the sound of your voice which leads to him racking his brain for a topic that might be interesting enough to get you to speak again, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.
“That outfit you wore tonight—It was nice.”
The words you think you hear Zoro say makes you slow to a stop.
When Zoro notices you’re no longer walking beside him, he turns to see your shock-filled features, immediately feeling himself go pale, and starts to regret the words that just spilled from his mouth—words he’d held back from telling you at Kaya's birthday dinner the entire time his eyes were glued on to you.
“W-What did you say?” You recover just enough to ask.
Zoro, who stands no more than a few feet away from you, looks back at you and ponders if he should just play it off due to your reaction, but tells himself that doing so would be a cowardly move—and he was not a coward.
He directs his head to the side to keep his face that flushes a light shade of red away from your view. “The outfit you wore at dinner. It looked really nice on you.” He says again, his voice seeming to struggle to get the words out.
You feel heat rush to your skin.
So you did hear him right the first time.
You replay Zoro's words in your head before nervously raising your gaze to look at him. “So, um…” You fidget a bit where you stand. “You think I looked pretty?”
Zoro visibly flinches at your question, still very much avoiding any eye contact.
“Yeah.” He manages an answer after what seems like a couple of seconds. “You always look pretty.”
At his response, a full and goofy smile blossoms on your lips. Then, without thinking—so overcome with joy at Zoro’s one in a lifetime compliment of you that it pushes most of your nervousness aside— your footsteps start moving closer towards his direction, and you tip-toe, just a little to reach his height, aiming at showing your appreciation for his words by gifting him with a kiss on his cheek.
However the supple softness that your lips meet when you kiss Zoro is not the softness of his cheek, but that of his lips instead when he suddenly turns his head in your direction.
Both Zoro’s dark eyes and yours widen at the realisation and you stumble back, away from him, watching as he touches a finger to his lips.
“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that!” Your face steams as you attempt to explain yourself for the accidental kiss. “I-I was just trying to give you a kiss on the cheek—not on your l-lips.”
Dread fills you when you realise that Zoro doesn’t have much of a reaction towards your words and all sorts of thoughts race through your mind at what he might be thinking about the indecent act.
Though all your worries subside when Zoro eventually decides to speak.
“Can…we do that again?”
Your eyes become saucers at his request. “W-what?”
“I..I want you to kiss me again.”
You almost choke.
Never in this lifetime or any lifetime would you think the stoic swordsman would utter such a request—one that you will be more than happy to fulfil, despite your buckling knees.
“A-Are you sure?”
In a few steps, Zoro closes the distance between you both; a gasp leaving your lips when you feel his strong arms snake around your waist pulling you into his larger frame.
“Yes, I'm sure.”
Your heart races as he silently stares down at you, noticing his gaze flicker down to your lips, then slowly back up to meet your eyes.
Heat creeps up your neck at the action, settling on your face and increases ever so slightly at the feeling of the heat that radiates off of Zoro's skin through his clothes from his body being flush against your own.
"You don't want to?" Zoro asks when he notices your somewhat hesitant expression. "It's fine if—"
"No. I do, I do." You rush out, reassuring him that the feeling is mutual. "It's just..." You hesitate. "I've never kissed someone. Well except for you—just now." You smile sheepishly. "I...I might be bad."
Zoro's gaze softens at your words. "Same goes for me."
You feel your heart swell and warmth rise to your cheeks. "That..I was your first?"
Zoro answers you with a single nod, the blush deepening on his face.
You let the revelation sink in: You were Zoro's first kiss.
A reality you can't help but take a moment of silence to relish in as you remain caged between Zoro's arms and the comforting warmth of his body, a warm smile subconsciously gracing your face.
"Can you close your eyes?" your voice comes out barely above a whisper when you're finished relishing in the moment.
Zoro's face wrinkles in confusion. "Why?"
"Because I want to kiss you. "Your voice quavers a bit as you speak. "Won't it be weird if we do it with our eyes open? Though if that's your thing—"
"No. I'll close 'em." Zoro says as his eyes immediately flutter close. And with his eyelids pressed shut, you can't help but stare back at him, admiring every inch of his handsome face and the deep blush that paints its tan skin.
Gingerly, one of your hands reaches up to caress one side of his face as you lean in, swallowing lightly when your lips near his, but pause just before they could meet. "You're really sure about this, right?" You can't help but ask the question again just for good measure.
Zoro shudders a little from the soft touch of your hand against his cheek, and also when he feels the warmness of your breath brush against his lips a few inches away from your own.
He doesn't answer your question immediately and it makes your heart sink that he might be having second thoughts until you feel his lips press tenderly against yours in a feather-light kiss.
The sudden action renders your body somewhat into a state of surprised stillness. But only for a beat, before your eyes flutter close, hands circling Zoro's neck as you lean into the kiss that starts off slow with you both savouring the taste of each other; before it escalates into one more confident, filled with longing and passion.
And the next day after you and Zoro shared a heated kiss at midnight in the dim lights of a lone hallway—forced to pull away, when Luffy unexpectedly popped out from nowhere— you both sneak a quick kiss at the shipyard, where eyes cannot lurk, before joining the rest of the crew who’d acquired a new member to its team, aboard its first ship—The Going Merry.
© 2024 kana-daydreams
reblogs appreciated🥰
#𓇻 kana's op ddrms#zoro x reader#one piece x reader#zoro x f!reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro fluff#op fluff#canonverse
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Love Me Undone
Hello everyone! The first chapter of my canonverse fic has now been posted to ao3! It is part of a series and the first part acts as a bit of a prolouge. You can read it here. The description for the main fic is below:
It's been quiet since Chuck's defeat; things have gone back to normal in the hunting world. Castiel has been out of The Empty for six months and Dean has taken his angel and found a nice little house to retire in. But where retirement might look good on paper, Dean struggles to adjust to this new life. When strange signs begin to show that something might be brewing on the horizon again, Dean is quick to jump right back into the fray, dragging Cas with him. After all, maybe all he needs is one last hurrah, even if it might kill him. He's not as young as he used to be, you know.
This fic is 100% complete and I will be posting a new chapter every FRIDAY!
tag list, ask to be added or removed
@undeadcas @tearsofgrace @hellerstiel @casgetoutofmyass0907 @wantstoflyafraidtofall @gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat @thepixelagora@thelahatiel @im-sam-fucking-winchester@piebook67 @bestiarum@theedeangirl@november5th@bixlasagna@ancient-fangirl@famouspsychicpizzabandit@you-cant-spell-subtext-without@bumbledumble1@cascigarette@addicted2demons @our-stars-graveside @fivefeetfangirl @evillittleguy @nekoshi13 @notreallyaroad
#trenchcoatimpala writes#my writing#destiel#destiel fic#destiel fanfic#Dean Winchester#Castiel#fanfic#supernatural#supernatural fanfic#fanfiction#spn fandom#Love Me Undone#canonverse fic#canonverse
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This May Sting a Bit

Late at night, a shaky portal to the Imagination opens in the middle of the living room. Logan did not expect who would come out of it. Or the state he would be in.
Written for @oatmealdaydreams for @tss-camp-and-coffee's Camp Cartoon writing event. Prompt: hurt/comfort Logince WC: 1656 - Rated: G - CW: injuries, mentions of blood and burns
Not quite four in the morning, Logan lingered over his half-drunk coffee. If Patton knew what he was doing, he’d most certainly cluck his tongue, swapping his brew for a mug of hot cocoa. And give him an earful about making better choices.
But Patton wasn’t awake, and neither was anyone else. Well, Remus almost certainly wasn’t sleeping, somewhere in the Mindscape, wreaking his own brand of havoc.
It was equally certain Remus couldn’t care less if Logan were drinking coffee at this hour of the night.
He hummed. This ‘hour of the morning’ was more accurate phrasing given the current time and state of things. Whatever may have been his original intentions for slipping down to the kitchen when Logan an hour ago, there was little chance of him returning to bed now.
Sighing, he drained the last of his cup, determined to make good use of his ill-timed alertness. He’d just finished rinsing the mug when a cacophony of sound erupted in the living room. Dropping the cup—thankfully break-proof—he rushed to investigate.
A three-meter circular portal had opened in the wall next to the television. Unframed and not in its usual place in the hallway between the twin’s rooms, the boundary on this door to the Imagination wavered, crackling as it immediately began to shrink.
The roar of flames and the dragon that breathed them assaulted Logan’s ears. Smoke and soot spilled out, following by a second dragon’s cry. The boundary shrank further, now barely half a meter across. Just before the portal closed, a hand reached out. Bruised and bloodied, smeared with ash, the hand flailed, scrabbling for a handhold that was not there. The hand reached further and the once brilliant white of Roman’s tunic peeked into view.
Without thinking, Logan grabbed his hand and pulled the Prince free from the portal just as the boundary collapsed, sealing the fire and dragons in the Imagination behind it.
“Roman!”
Tunic and pants singed, thin wisps of smoke curled up from his clothes, his hair. Roman’s belt and scabbard were hot to the touch, as were the warped epaulettes on his shoulders. He had more wounds that Logan could count at a glance, with a slowly spreading dark stain creeping out from the gash in his trousers. Liberally dusted with soot, it was difficult to see precisely where the blood was coming from.
“Calculator Watch,” Roman mumbled, head heavy on Logan’s arm. His eyes were only half-open and even that seemed to require extraordinary effort. “Didn’t think anybody’d be up. No-one usually is.”
“You didn’t—you—No-one—You fool!” Logan sputtered, willingly expressing his worry as anger. It was easier. More productive. “How often do you go off gallivanting on your own in the Imagination in the middle of the night?”
Roman’s only answer was a shrug.
“Roman?” Logan shook him, wincing when Roman whimpered briefly before opening his eyes.
The hero’s mask slipped back into place and he gave Logan a crooked smile. “I shall be fine,” he said, voice quavering. “Just need a moment.”
“To hell with that,” Logan spat. It took a bit of work to get his feet under him in a squat but finally he got Roman properly positioned in his arms. He pushed up, lifting him off the floor. Roman’s arm fumbled, weakly looping over his shoulders.
“I can walk, Nerdy Wolverine,” he mumbled, eyes still closed.
“Mm-hm,” Logan grunted. “That’s your brother’s nickname for me.”
As Logan hoped, irritation sparked fresh energy in Roman’s limbs and he held on tighter. “Don’ wanna talk about him,” he growled.
“Fine. We can talk about what in the name of Newton you were doing out there instead,” Logan said. Grip finally stable, he staggered to the bathroom with his Princely burden. “But first we’re getting all this ash off you so I can see what we’re dealing with.”
“’m fine, Logan,” Roman mumbled.
Eyebrow raised, Logan didn’t need to say aloud what they both knew. If he couldn’t be bothered to come up with a new nickname—not to mention fight his way out of Logan’s grip, Roman most certainly was far from fine.
“Let’s get your wounds cleaned and then you can convince me just how ‘fine’ you are.”
~
Too shaky to stand—though he’d never admit it—Roman quickly acquiesced to Logan’s suggestion that a bath might be safer than a shower. Grateful to have avoided that particular argument, Logan held his tongue as he helped him into the tub, sudsing up his hair and back while Roman slowly worked to wash whatever else he could reach. Save for a burn and a nasty trio of gashes on his thighs—the dragon’s claws, Logan guessed—most of the other wounds covering his hands and face and shoulders were smaller. Burns, cuts, and bruises, some of which were already showing signs of his rapid healing.
Whatever else could be said for the brash, pig-headed, egotistical—Logan halted his own internal tirade. Whatever else could be said for him, Roman was, in the end, a more than adept fighter. Logan was certain anyone else—with the possible exception of his even more violent brother—would have fared far, far worse.
After refreshing the bath four separate times when the water grew too murky to do much more than simply spread the blood and soot around, Logan deemed him sufficiently cleansed and helped him out of the tub. Wrapping him first in the largest towel he could find, Logan protected his modesty the best he could while still patting him dry.
The bandages would stick better to dry skin.
Clearly still too weak to use his Creative powers to simply conjure fresh clothes, Roman needed Logan to summon an existing tee-shirt and shorts from upstairs. Finally dressed, Logan settled him into a seat on the edge of the tub and knelt in front of him. He opened the first aid kit and pulled out the gauze and a tube of bactine.
“This may sting a bit,” he warned before dabbing it around the deepest of the wounds. Roman flinched but didn’t make a sound and simply watched Logan work without complaint or comment.
His silence was unnerving.
“So would you like to tell me what you were attempting to accomplish out there?” Logan asked as he wound Roman’s thigh in a triple layer of gauze.
“Does it matter?” he asked quietly. “I failed.”
Logan liked it better when he called him a nerd. Tearing off a bit of tape to seal the edges of the wrapping, Logan hummed. “I would not characterize arriving home alive as a failure.”
Leaning against the wall, Roman’s eyes fell shut. “It’s not a success,” he muttered.
“Falsehood,” Logan said, sharper than he’d intended.
Roman’s eyes flew open, red-rimmed and glossy with tears.
“You, Roman, are worth far more than some Pyrrhic victory over the creatures of your Imagination,” he said firmly. “You are a vital part of Thomas’ psyche. Beyond carrying half his creativity, you bear his sense of strength and self-assurance and his—”
“But I’m not his hero anymore, though, am I?” he said, pulling away. “Heroes don’t hurt people.”
“Roman, you did not intend to harm Thomas with your ruling,” Logan began. “You were merely—”
“I mean De—I mean Janus.” Roman huffed and looked away, nostrils flared. “And you.”
Oh.
Logan stared at him for a long moment before busying himself with the first aid kit. Eyes focused on the blistering burn along Roman’s other thigh, he shook his head. “I am unharmed by anything you have said to me.”
“Do you want Janus to show up?” Roman said. “We both know that’s not true.”
He spread another layer of burn cream to Roman’s leg before answering. “I… suppose it is not entirely accurate that your words have had zero impact me,” he finally said, glancing up from the corner of his eye. “I… I have endeavored not to… fixate on it, though. I have a job to do.”
“Is that all I am to you? Is that all this is?” Roman asked, gesturing around them at the towel drying on the rack, the open first aid kit. “You’re just doing your job to—to—to keep ‘Thomas’ psyche’ well?” he sputtered and pounding his fist on the edge of the tub. “We used to be friends, dammit!”
“I—” An inexplicable lump grew in Logan’s throat and he shook his head. Roman simply watched him wrap fresh gauze over his burn. Arms crossed over his chest and jaw set, Roman wore the posture of impatience, annoyance. Anger.
But his eyes were still wet and he made no move to leave the cramped bathroom.
Logan sighed. “No,” he said at last. “No, Roman, of course that’s not all you are to—When…” He took in the cuts and burns and bruises littering Roman’s body and he shuddered. “When I first saw your hand reaching out from the Imagination, all I could think was, well… I couldn’t think. I just…” He frowned, searching fruitlessly for the right word. “I just… felt.”
Silence dropped between them again but Roman’s crossed arms loosened, slowly sliding back down to rest at his sides.
Clearing his throat, Logan reached for the hand with the most burns. “I do not believe I am ready to discuss my… feelings on the matter,” he said. “Yet,” he added, meeting Roman’s eyes. “But believe me when I tell you it is heroic to attempt this conversation.”
Roman’s face softened into an almost smile.
“And, perhaps—if you wish—I could accompany you to speak with Janus,” Logan offered with a small shrug as he dabbed ointment over Roman’s burnt knuckles. “I could… mediate during the conversation or help you prepare beforehand by serving as a sounding board of sorts or—“
Carefully closing his fingers around Logan’s hand, Roman nodded. “I’d like that,” he said with a tiny smile. “Nerd.”
#sanders sides#sasi#tss#sanders sides fanfiction#logince#eventually#platonic or romantic is left as an exercise for the reader#or for future stories#ts logan#ts roman#other sides mentioned#hurt/comfort#canonverse#tss camp cartoon
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and why should I deny what's all at once so crystal clear?
as usual, I hope you like it 🤍
#aruani#snk#aot#shingeki no kyojin#annie leonhart#armin#annie#ambassadors#aruani ambassadors#art#my art#crystal clear#fanart#canonverse#armin x annie#aruannie#annie leonhardt#liar#paramore#armin alert#armin arlert#Spotify
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the Pact of Ice and Fire
Prince Jacaerys Velaryon flies to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark.
CANON COMPLIANT FIX-IT | EXPLICIT | LONGFIC FIC LINK HERE | JACEGAN DISCORD SERVER LINK HERE

"They drank together, hunted together, trained together, and swore an oath of brotherhood, sealed in blood… the Pact of Ice and Fire." - Fire & Blood, George R.R. Martin
This is that story.
On either side of their lookout, the Wall extends further than the eye can see; a never-ending barrier of ice that shimmers even as it weeps—beautiful, yet haunting. "Welcome to the edge of your realm," Cregan murmurs. His gruff tone has softened, the words brushing over Jace's ear in a caress, coiling heat in his belly. The treeline echos the prince's paramour, rustling in the distance as if to greet Jacaerys. And he supposes it's an apt salute, for on the morrow, he will be the first Targaryen to step into the unknown beyond it.
The story that the House of the Dragon skipped right over; a mostly canon-compliant tale that begins with Jacaerys' arrival in Winterfell, extends through his journey up to the Wall, and will have a fix-it ending following the Gullet.
𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦'𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 @angkis
DO NOT REPOST THIS ART.
#jacegan#jacegan fic#the Pact of Ice and Fire#fic edit#chapter edit#jacegan art#art#jace x cregan#prince jacaerys#jacaerys x cregan#jacaerys velaryon#jacegan fanfiction#fic#canonverse#cordeliacordate
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I needs some comfort Mack! I just watched the ending of AOT and I'm not okay.😭😭😭
a/n: since i know levi is your favorite, enjoy some levi comfort. 🤍
warnings: canonverse | post-war!levi | hurt/comfort | mentions of injuries, nightmares + flashbacks | reader is gender neutral
nobody could prepare for the devastation following the battle of heaven and earth, not even humanity's strongest.
a scar across his face, two missing fingers, partial sight, and now wheelchair bound; his days are spent relearning how to live life in a brand new, unfamiliar body. he'd argue that nights are worse as sleep is seldom, and what little sleep he does manage to get, is plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. he jolts awake, terrified when he opens his eyes and sees nothing.
right, he thinks as he sits up, i still have vision in my left. you're easily wakened by his shifting. "levi? do you need something?" you ask softly, words laced with sleep.
"just another nightmare's all." the veteran sighs. you sit up next to him.
"just? levi..." you start, but are quickly cut off.
"this is not a life you deserve, y/n. taking care of me like an infant... it was't supposed to be like this... i'm so sorry." his voice cracks as he finds the strength to continue. "i have to let you go because i love you and i want you to live the life i wasn't able to give you."
tears well in your eyes. "i love you too levi, but the only life i want to live is the one i spend with you. i'm not leaving you... for better or for worse; that was our promise... and i intend on keeping that promise, sir." you reply, reminding him of the wedding band he wears on his left hand.
he swallows the lump in his throat and hangs his head apologetically. "i don't deserve you, but i am grateful and i will spend the rest of my sorry life making sure you know that."
you hug him tight and kiss his cold shoulder. "c'mon now, back to bed we go." you urge, falling into the bed together.
"i love you, mr. ackerman." you yawn as your head finds it's home on his chest.
"i love you too," he replies, "thank you."
"for what?" you ask.
"for everything."
banners by benkeibear
#📝 — mack wrote that#hurt/comfort#attack on titan fluff#levi ackerman fluff#attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader fluff#levi ackerman x reader comfort#levi x reader fluff#levi x reader comfort#post war levi#canonverse#levi ackerman angst#levi ackerman x reader angst#x gn reader#gender neutral reader#snk fluff#shingeki no kyojin fluff#shingeki no kyojin
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☰ ANYTHING FOR YOU –.ೃ࿐ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧.

levi swears that he's a clean freak – that he can't bare to even come into contact with anything remotely filthy.. but it came to your surprise that on your sick days, he won't waste a second to be by your side the whole time.
levi swears that he's a clean freak, until he's literally laying right beside you and keeping a warm cloth on your forehead. he isn't afraid to be within the proximity of you so much so that he himself could get sick – but he didn't care.
"you'll get sick though, levi.."
"to hell with that. as long as you get better, i'll take care of myself later."
levi swears that he's a clean freak, but then the moment you feel yourself needing to vomit, he's gathering your hair in a ponytail with a small bucket placed in front of you. he didn't give one thought about what splattered on the bed sheets or the mess he'd have to clean up later.. all that mattered was you in that moment.
"i'm sorry. i got some on your shirt, i shouldve-"
"don't you dare apologize. forget about my shitty shirt, you okay? here, i'll get you some water."
levi swears that he's a clean freak, until he's wiping the snot from your nose with his handkerchief, letting you blow your nose until it felt empty. his brows furrowed with concern to which you thought was disgust at first – it's hard to read him sometimes.
"you don't have to do this. i know it can be gross for you."
"i want to do this, love. just blow, it's okay i've got you."
levi swears that he's a clean freak but when it comes to you, he'd push it all aside, forgetting that he used to wipe his blades on the battlefield after a bloody attack or how repulsed he felt living in the underground. he had forgotten what it felt like because now, he'd do absolutely anything for you, even if it meant getting his hands dirty every now and then.
☆ — 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @luvjiro , @youre-ackermine , @lovolee3 , @notgoodforlife , @averysmolbear , @bejewelledd , @leviismybby , @evas-leslas , @roseofdarknessblog @cometlevi , @21aurora (! ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝💌)
#chaloveslevi#shitrambles#levi ackerman#attack on titan#captain levi#levi heichou#shingeki no kyojin#levi scenarios#modern au#levi ackerman comfort#levi ackerman headcanons#levi x reader#levi x you#levi x y/n#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman imagines#canonverse
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Iva loves bothering them, as it should be.
#one piece#dragodile#sir crocodile#monkey d dragon#emporio ivankov#one piece art#dragon one piece#crocodile one piece#one piece ivankov#canonverse#and also#revolutionary crocodile au#yes is both bc is at the start of their relationship#my art#my sketch#mercy’s art#dragon x crocodile#crocodile x dragon#well Luffy will not born from nothing#one piece fan art
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Stay a Little Longer - part 1
Masterlist
Written for @tomtenadia as part of the 2024 Rowaelin Secret Santa!
Happy Yulemas, Nadia!
I know you don’t celebrate Christmas, so I wrote you the regular canonverse(ish) pregnancy fic! It got much longer than I predicted (like 9k so far and a bit more to go), so I’ll be posting it into parts throughout the gift exchange period.
You cannot tell my excitement when I drew your name in that website. Your friendship is one I treasure so much, and I love discussing books and fics with you, crazy time zones be damned. I hope you’re having a wonderful time, and that your 2025 gets to be filled with peacefulness and joy the way you deserve. ❤️
Also, thank you @goddess-aelin for organizing the event!! ✨❤️
Warnings: none
Words: 657
Aelin has never burned a drawing room before.
The intricate carvings in gold that decorated the walls would melt before the velvet draperies and furniture could catch it. She had never willed her fire to kill people, but to burn a room with four royals and Fenrys—Prince Rowan’s pet nobleman, or maybe it was the other way around—was a bold move nonetheless.
Two males from the highest ranks of Doranelle’s military. Even with Aedion alongside her, Aelin was sure her father would’ve vetoed this trip had he known Prince Rowan and Lord Fenrys are here as well.
As a child, Aelin would spend hours staring into open flame, watching its dance as a single spark slowly took over like dominoes cascading in a line; with her, not so much. With Aelin, one second, things were, and in the other they weren’t.
Aelin traveled all the way to Wendlyn in her human form without a worry about needing to use her powers for military purposes, it never occurred to her that her uncle might ask her to light his cigar.
“Are you quite all right, dear?” Uncle Glaston kindly asked, his cigar still hanging from between his fingers.
“Perfect,” Aelin said, smiling as she straightened in her seat. Behind him, Aedion was the one who looked unwell, terrified eyes begging her not to proceed. Rather discouraging, but he meant well. At the Orynth Castle, men didn’t ask her to light up their cigars—and if they did, a healer might check for their mental wellbeing.
The shifting to her demi-Fae form made her wince. It’d been too long since she did, and the heightened senses added to the lava bubbling underneath her skin, begging to be let out—for a moment, it overwhelmed her.
She inhaled deeply, begging the fire to stay put and let the smallest amount of it rise…
A crackling roar and a deep vibration boomed in the drawing room—it was immediately stifled, but followed by the horrifying sight of burn marks on Uncle Glaston’s chaise, along with the lack of sights of the cigar she was supposed to light up—not blow up.
Aelin used all her Fae speed to get to her feet and run her uncle’s way. “Did I hurt you?”
He waved her off. “It’s alright.” Glaston grabbed another cigar and held it up. “If you don’t mind.”
Aelin gave him a tense smile and decided on another route: turning her fingers into matches—lighting herself up was always easier than directing fire elsewhere. Safer. She focused her mind, body and strength on her pointer finger, willing for a single spark to show…
Only to watch her entire arm combust, tall flames dancing with the wind, brightening the room in ways no evening candlelight could.
It was a quick burst. Before Aelin could shovel it inside again, she felt the wind that sparked her flames stifle them—it licked over her arm, slowly sending the flames inside until only the tip of her finger was lit. However, she didn’t feel stifled. It didn’t feel suffocating like every other attempt reign over her abilities did—it felt like an embrace.
A tug in her gut took her breath away, but remaining little flame on her forefinger flickered. It was so vivid, it resembled an invisible string lassoing her from across the room. Frozen in place, Aelin didn’t notice her uncle lightning his cigar.
She felt like a shooting star—ethereal. A blink-and-you'll-miss-it event, yet impossible to miss. On a predetermined path that felt like she was free-falling into the unknown.
Her heart snapped shut like a suitcase’s fasteners did, and suddenly the room didn’t have 360 degrees for her eyes to wander anymore.
Her head whipped to the spot across the room that felt incandescent, like moth to the flame.
Only to find Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle already staring at her, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or joining my (sometimes glitchy) one general tag list!!
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#rowaelin#rowan whitethorn#aelin galathynius#throne of glass#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan x aelin#aelin x rowan#rowaelin fanfic#throne of glass fanfic#canonverse#stay a little longer
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To Love a Geisha
Written for the adorable @opfluffzine!! It's a free digital zine that you can download right here ☁️
ALSO check out the amazing spot art by @beasttrash!! It's so so cute 🤖🌸
[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]
—————
“Hey, Franosuke, are you married?”
The question didn’t take Franosuke, a carpenter in the Flower Capital of Wano, completely by surprise. After all, a few of his coworkers had just spent the better half of their break complaining about their home lives—how their wives were on their asses about drinking and spending time with geishas instead of helping take care of the kids. Which was entirely in their right to do, in Franosuke’s opinion; a man should take responsibility and help his family, be it wife, kids, siblings, or parents!
But voicing those thoughts would go against his ‘role’, wouldn’t it?
And so, Franosuke simply laughed, shaking his head. “No way, man! I’m free as a super bird!”
“Good for you!” one of the men said, slapping Franosuke’s shoulder.
“Oh, but,” another one noted with a knowing smirk, “I hear you’ve got quite the favourite in old Tsugaru Umi’s teahouse.”
A small choir of ohh immediately followed as all his coworkers turned to look at Franosuke with wide, almost evil grins on their faces. A second later, a barrage of questions followed.
“It’s O-Some, isn’t it?!”
“I bet it’s Kisegawa!”
“The Oiran’s procession is going to be next month, I bet you switch your favourite then! Always happens.”
Honestly, Franosuke had no idea who or what they were talking about… but a happy smile still pulled on his lips as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Because, while his coworkers speculated wildly about who his favourite geisha might or might not be, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.
Wandering to the silky black hair, two-coloured blue eyes, and mind so sharp it could destroy a man in a second.
Shaking his head, Franky laughed loudly as he brought himself to the reality where he was surrounded by a bunch of dudes with the smell of wood and sweat in the air. “You’re making me feel super weird now, guys! She’s a super lady. I’m not going to replace her because some pin-up girl walks by!”
His coworkers exchanged a confused glance. “What’s ‘pin-up girl’?”
Oh.
Shit, he shouldn’t have said that.
“A beautiful, sexy woman?” Franosuke tried, wrecking his brain for an excuse. “It’s… a dialect.”
Several doubtful looks and murmurs of, “where is he from again?” were his only response and he felt sweat building on his back, his shirt sticking to his skin uncomfortably. What could he say? How did he change the topic without it sounding forced?
What a super dumb slip of the tongue that was…
“Hey, assholes!! Stop slacking or I’m gonna fire you!”
All the men on the construction site jumped at the angry shout, everyone immediately rushing to pick up their saws and hammers and get to work. Meanwhile… Franosuke was never more grateful for Master Minatomo and his awful personality.
—————
Walking down the familiar streets of the Flower Capital, Franosuke marvelled at how easy finding his way was now. After all, it had only been a few weeks since he had arrived here and at first, the roads felt incredibly confusing. Them all being named 1st Street and 2nd Street and 36th Street wasn’t helping either because… 36th from what?
It made no sense to him. The city he grew up in was huge too but Water 7 had never felt as hard to navigate as this.
Now, though, he could walk these streets blindfolded—at least the parts of the city he knew. Actually… how many times had he walked this route? Even his coworkers had started to notice he visited the place often… Some might even say too often; they might say he was pathetic, hopeless, throwing away money for no reason, for a fake dream.
But it wasn’t fake, a dream, or hopeless to him.
Instead, the sight of the teahouse attached to a certain okiya made him feel happy. Excited.
“Sir Franosuke, we’ve been expecting you.” The teahouse worker bowed deeply in greeting before leading him to his reserved room and bowing again.
Franosuke wondered whether this treatment would ever stop freaking him out; it was like he was a nobility whenever he walked in here, it was super weird. But, he supposed that was what went with exclusive patronage—honestly, it was a miracle he was even allowed in here. Not many were, certainly not people who appeared suddenly out of nowhere with no background and no connections.
Yet another reason to suffer old Minatomo and his tantrums; if it weren’t for his patronage of this place, his recommendation, and friendship with the owner, there was no way for Franosuke to even get a glimpse of the garden, never mind getting to walk through the doors to this small, private room.
Well, no reason to dwell on that. He was here and that was all that mattered!
The moment he sat down at the tiny, low table, the door slid open quietly once more. And when he glanced towards it… a wide smile pulled on his lips.
Kneeling on the ground just outside the room was a geisha, her head slightly bowed, eyes turned modestly to the ground. She waited a few seconds before she rose to her feet, entered the room and kneeled again to close the door behind herself, then turned to face Franosuke directly for the first time.
“Welcome… my Lord,” she said in a sweet voice before her eyes turned to the side once more. This time, however, it was in a more of a coy way than anything.
The sight nearly made Franosuke start laughing.
“Seeing you act like this, I feel like you’re about to assassinate me every time, Miss O-Robi.”
Now, it was O-Robi’s turn to quickly cover her mouth with her kimono sleeve to hide her chuckle. “I think Luffy wouldn’t be very happy if he came here with Sanji only to find out his shipwright was now in pieces, being sold for metal scrap.”
Franosuke frowned, crossing his large metal arms over his chest. “Hey! Are you doubting my abilities? I’m not so easy to just take apart and sell, lady!” He paused, then added, “You would make a lot of money with me though.”
This time, O-Robi couldn’t hold her quiet giggle back. She didn’t bother hiding it either as she finally joined Franosuke at his table. “I’ll make sure to sell you to the underground. I know people would pay hundreds of millions of beri for that laser beam of yours, Franky,” she said, her voice light with amusement.
“You’d better,” Franky huffed, nodding to himself. “Those people’d appreciate my super armoured body at least!”
Shaking her head with an easy smile still playing on her lips, Robin grabbed the sake bottle off the table, pouring Franky a cup with practised ease. Up until now, Franky had never realised how elegant such a simple action could be; it was like watching art in motion. Robin’s graceful hands were holding the bottle gently, the sake trickling into the cup with precision, not a single drop wasted. She was leaning forward slightly, the collar of her kimono falling low in the back, exposing and accentuating her long, delicate neck.
Franky jumped when someone tapped his shoulder right then, breaking him out of his reverie—when he turned to look who it was, however, only a detached hand growing out of his own arm greeted him, before it scattered into flower petals.
“Staring is rude, you know,” Robin said, shooting Franky a teasing look.
The man huffed out a laugh as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Robin’s cheek, careful of her make-up. “Sorry, Robin. Just admiring how beautiful my super geisha is.”
“A geisha mustn’t be touched, my Lord,” Robin said sternly, but the corners of her mouth twitched, her eyes dancing.
“Kick me out, then.” Franky grinned and, without missing a beat, kissed her again.
Robin laughed. “You’re impossible.”
Finally, Franky grabbed the sake bottle from her, pouring her own cup for her. With a small thank you, Robin raised her cup to her lips, taking a sip—and then, as if completely letting go of her ‘role’, she leaned into Franky’s side, sighing contently.
For but a second, Franky froze.
But then, something warm spilled inside of his chest and he raised his arm, pulling her closer to him. He almost forgot how it felt having Robin next to him, how comforting and exciting feeling her body heat seep into his skin—numb and hard with metal right underneath—was. The archeologist was so small next to him. Small and beautiful and oh-so deadly.
Franky knew that if she wanted to, she would be able to kill him in seconds. But she didn’t—wouldn’t. Not anymore. And Franky loved knowing that, loved that she chose every day to be here, with the crew. With him. She had gone through so much pain, but she was willing to open herself up and trust them even so.
He would make super damn sure she never regretted that decision.
Letting his smaller, human-sized hand out of his regular hand, Franky reached out, touching Robin’s cheek softly, making her tilt her head back to look at him. Robin hummed questioningly, but Franky only sighed. “I really wanna kiss you.”
“You did already.”
Franky clicked his tongue. “You know what I mean, Robin.”
“You’ll mess up my make-up,” Robin noted.
“And your teacher will yell at you, I know.”
With a sigh, Franky retreated his hand; he really didn’t want a repeat of the first time he came here… Robin wasn’t allowed to leave the okiya for days after that, apparently something about proper geisha manners and perceived perfection and innocence. He didn’t really get it but he sure didn’t need a detailed explanation. Definitely not from the tiny old hag. She looked like she would go on forever given the chance.
Quickly covering her mouth with her kimono sleeve, Robin chuckled at Franky’s disappointment.
But then, Franky blinked when one of Robin’s hands came to rest against his shoulder, another on his chest as she rose to her knees with a soft smile on her lips—and a playful twinkle in her eyes. A third and a fourth hand cupped Franky’s face, gently guiding him forward—and a second later, their lips met, moulding together easily as they kissed properly for the first time in weeks.
Franky grinned into the kiss; the smell of the powder on Robin’s skin mixing with her perfume was tickling his nose, her lips soft against his own. The feeling made his heart race as if this was their first time.
It would probably always feel that way to him. With Robin, every day was like their first—especially now. After not seeing her for two whole years, it was as if he couldn’t get enough of her presence, her voice, her touch, her brilliance.
She was just as beautiful, just as smart, just as perfect as she was when they first met. The only difference was that she was much more herself.
And Franky couldn’t help but love every last bit off her.
When his coworker asked if he was married earlier, Franky wasn’t being entirely honest. But… it wasn’t like he was completely lying either. He did have a wife but they were pirates, after all, and pirate weddings weren’t exactly official. Moreover, they were officiated by the captain. And their captain being Luffy… The whole thing pretty much consisted of Luffy saying ‘Marry you? Yeah, why not. Done.’ and then immediately asking if there was a wedding cake.
Franky hesitated calling that a wedding. More like a super speed run of one. But—
It was enough for them.
Whether they were an assassin and a dismantler, an archeologist and a shipwright, or a geisha and a carpenter, Franky knew Robin would always be right there, by his side.
And Franky would always be grateful for it, ready to love her exactly the way she was in return.
#one piece#frobin#fluff#tooth rotting fluff#franky#cyborg franky#robin#nico robin#opfluffzine#canonverse#wano arc#fluff zine#they're so very married okay?#and so very in love#i love them#geisha!robin#carpenter!franky#o-robi#franosuke#zine stuff#katie pretends to fic#second fic coming in a few days!#and halloween one on halloween xD#~~unless i forget HAHAHA~~
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Drive Me Wild
Alright, Filthy Friday is officially in motion!
You already saw the intro post, so we're skipping past that and diving straight into the good stuff! First post of the day? We're kicking things off with a little steamy indulgence.
Not a WIP, not a full-blown scenario. Just a brief, sinful snippet to set the tone for the day. Short, spicy and EXACTLY the kind of thing I'd love to drop in every now and then on Fridays. Not every week, but when the mood strikes? Absolutely.
Do we love it? Do we hate it? Hmmm...let me know! And since I'm feeling generous, Katsuki's getting some love today!
Read below, enjoy the filth, and have a fantastically sinful day.

The car smelled like him—like burnt caramel, sweat, and something purely Katsuki. It was intoxicating, thick in the air, mingling with the heat between you.
The backseat of his ridiculously expensive new car was absurdly soft. Probably custom-stitched leather; but you honestly weren’t thinking about that all too much—not when you were straddling him, your knees pressing into the cushions.
Katsuki’s hands gripped your thighs so tight that it was sure to leave a bruise the next day. His mouth was hot and desperate against yours, swallowing every moan, every gasp; his tongue claiming yours like he had something to prove.
And knowing Katsuki, he probably did.
His cock was buried deep inside of you, stretching you full. The thick press of him making your head spin with an all-consuming pleasure. He felt so good, every inch of him dragging along your walls as you rolled your hips, seeking more and more.
“Fuck.” Katsuki groaned against your lips, his grip on your thighs flexing as you moved your hips. “Just like that—fuckin’ take it.”
The windows were already fogged up, condensation clinging to the glass, a mess of heat, sweat and need. Every movement had the leather beneath you squeaking. Had his breath coming out in sharp, hitched exhales against your skin.
You braced yourself against his chest, fingers fisting in the fabric of his half-zipped hoodie—the streetlights outside cast flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his gaze; those deep, burning crimson eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing that mattered.
The only thing in the whole goddamn world. A feeling that only Katsuki was able to give you.
A shudder ripped through you as you rocked your hips again, your body melting into the dizzying pleasure. His cock pulsed inside you, thick and hot, each grind of your hips sending another wave of heat pooling low in your belly.
“Katsuki…!” You gasped out, your voice breathy and wrecked, fingers digging into his chest. “W-we—shit—we could get c-caught!”
His teeth bared in a wicked grin, one hand sliding up to the nape of your neck; tugging your head down so that his lips brushed against your ear.
“Then move your hips more, Sweetheart.” He rasped, voice rough with want. “Sooner we’re done, the sooner I get your pretty arse home and bent over something…”
A sharp slap stung across your arse, heat blooming where his palm met flesh. You let out a loud yelp, pleasure crackling through you at the sting; and he grunted, his grip returning to your hips as you clenched around his cock.
“Fuck, you liked that, huh?” His voice was smug, breathless, but the way his fingers flexed against your hips betrayed just how much he enjoyed your reactions. “Greedy little thing—driving me crazy!”
His hips snapped up suddenly, meeting yours in a sharp, bruising thrust, and your nails dug into his chest as pleasure surged through you. A gasp tore from your throat, swallowed by the next hungry kiss that he stole.
It was reckless. It was desperate. It was so fucking good—you quickly lost any concern you previously had about getting caught in the act.
#cheeky kitsune#Filthy Friday#filthy fix#katsuki bakugou#katsuki x reader#canonverse#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader
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Sebastian: I could kill you if I wanted.
Ciel: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.
Sebastian:

#black butler#kuroshitsuji#sebastian michaelis#ciel phantomhive#incorrect quotes#poor bassy#you little cheek >:(#canonverse
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standing in your cardigan
by ScarletSlippers on ao3
Rating: G | Category: F/M | Relationship: Lockwood/Lucy
George shrugs, already heading back to his book. “No idea. I am however, as a result, an excellent knitter. It's rather methodical, really. Soothing, even.”
“So will you help me?”
He looks back up at her slowly, and takes a prolonged sip of his tea, pretending he doesn’t understand. “I failed to hear a clarification in your question. What exactly do you need help with?”
“I need you to teach me to knit.”
Lucy knits Lockwood a jumper.
#rating: g#category: f/m#ship: locklyle#canonverse#canon compliant#warnings: none#character: anthony lockwood#character: lucy carlyle#character: george cubbins | george karim#fic rec#character: holly munro#character: quill kipps#length: oneshot#status: completed#misc: established relationship#misc: fluff#lockwood-fic-recs#lockwood & co#lockwood and co#misc: established locklyle#lockwood and co fanfiction#author: scarletslippers
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