#Sunflower Oil Machine

[flora1233]

Why FloraOilMachine’s Sunflower Oil Machine is the Key to High-Yield Production

Across the globe, sunflower oil is a popular cooking choice. It’s loved for its light taste, high nutrition, and many uses. It’s great in everything from deep frying to salads. As more people want sunflower oil, we need better ways to make it. That’s where FloraOilMachine comes in, with a top-tier machine meant for big-time oil production.

What makes FloraOilMachine’s Sunflower Oil Machine special? It’s leading edge tech and how it can get the most oil with the least waste. Want to get more sunflower oil? This machine could be what you need to change things. Here’s why it’s big for oil production.

1. Getting the Most Oil

Out FloraOilMachine’s Sunflower Oil Machine can get a lot of oil from sunflower seeds without much work. It mixes mechanical pressing and heat to get the most oil with the least lost.

Sunflower seeds are about 40-50% oil, and this machine can get almost all of it out. It doesn’t leave much oil in the leftovers, so it’s better than older ways that often waste oil.

2. Making Top-Quality Oil

Besides getting out the oil, keeping it high-quality is key for happy customers and staying competitive. This machine works to keep useful things in sunflower oil like vitamin E and omega-6 fats.

It filters out bad stuff, dust, and things that make oil worse. The clean oil it makes keeps its natural taste and health benefits, great for chefs and health nuts.

3. Saving Energy and Money

One of the best things about this machine is how it saves energy. Producing lots of oil can use lots of power and cost lots of money. This machine does it with less power, keeping up performance.

Efficient motors and heaters make sure the oil gets out fast without needing a lot of energy. Saving energy means saving money, and that’s good for any business trying to save on costs and make more money.

4. Easy to Use and Automatic

In fast moving factories, automatic operation keeps things going well and gets consistent results. The Sunflower Oil Machine has an automated control panel to quickly check and change things like temperature, pressure, and how long it runs. It’s easy to use even if you’re not a tech whiz, which hurts chances of human mistakes and helps efficiency.

Also, it feeds itself automatically, letting production run all the time without having to stop and start. If you’re a small business or a big factory, this machine’s automation will consistently do a great job.

5. Long-lasting and a Good Investment

If you’re buying a sunflower oil machine, you want it to be durable. FloraOilMachine’s Sunflower Oil Machine is made to stay strong and last a while, made with high-quality materials that can handle hard work. It’s built to stay in good shape for years, making it a smart buy for any oil business.

The machine is made to be easy to maintain and its parts sturdy, so you don’t need to fix or replace things often. With regular care, the machine will keep working well, making it a reliable tool for any oil business.

6. Compact Design to Save Space

For businesses making products, saving space is important. This machine is small but powerful, so it fits where you need it without taking up too much room. It can fit into big businesses or smaller ones, those with not a lot of space can still get its big oil production.

Its design also makes it easy to clean and keep up, keeping it running well with little time off.

7. Good for the Planet

As people get more worried about the planet, businesses are finding ways to have less of a harmful impact. FloraOilMachine is thinking about the future too, and its Sunflower Oil Machine is made to be eco-friendly. It uses energy efficiently, and it cuts down on waste so it stays green.

By using less energy and producing less waste, this machine helps businesses have a smaller carbon footprint. That’s great for businesses that want to stay eco-friendly and follow environmental rules.

8. Made for Your Specific Needs

FloraOilMachine knows that every business is different. The Sunflower Oil Machine can be changed to fit your needs. Whether your business is unique in oil production, filtration, or automation, FloraOilMachine can make a machine that fits you.

9. A Top Brand That’s Known Worldwide Across the world

FloraOilMachine is trusted for oil-making. With many years of experience, it’s earned trust for its reliability and good customer service.

They are committed to making machines that meet the many needs of the oil business. People trust FloraOilMachine to be the best in the business.

In Conclusion

This machine from FloraOilMachine is changing the game in oil-making. With its ability to get more oil, keep the oil good, save energy, and streamline the process, it gives businesses everything they need to do better and make more.

Investing in FloraOilMachine’s machine not only means better oil production, but it also means staying competitive. So if you’re looking to start a sunflower oil business or upgrade your existing one, FloraOilMachine is the key to producing more, improving quality, and getting on top.

When you choose FloraOilMachine, you’re not just getting a machine; you’re investing in sunflower oil’s future.

[btmaoilpressmachine]

6YL-160 combined oil press machine test video of pressing rapeseed oil in factory.

[newbusinessideas]

🚀 Want to be your own boss and make huge profits? Start your own Cooking Oil Business today! 🌿💰 🔥 The market is booming – don’t miss out on this golden opportunity! Hit FOLLOW for more business ideas! ✅ #BusinessGrowth #Entrepreneur #StartupSuccess #FoodManufacturing #SmallBiz #SideHustle

[haqiqaglobalbusiness]

Ethiopia Sunflower Oil Pressing Machine, Cooking Oil Pressing, Extraction, Refining, Processing Machines Manufacturer Supplier Importer in Ethiopia Chine

We supply imported Sunflower Oil Press Machine Cooking Oil Press Machines from World’s largest manufacturer in China. We offer Oil Processing Machines with excellent quality, advanced technology and best after-sale service, including Installation, Commissioning, Training Workers to operate machines. ~ High Purity! Big Production Capacity~ Highly reliable, Easily Operation Systems!!~ Competitive…

[spheretechpackagingindia]

Edible Oil Filling Machine

An Edible Oil Filling Machine Is A Type Of Liquid Packaging Machine That Is Designed For Filling Containers With Edible Oils, Which Can Have Varying Viscosities Depending On The Type Of Oil.

These Machines Are Used To Package Various Types Of Edible Oils, Such As Coconut And Peanut Oils, Among Others.

[oilmakingmachine]

The Versatility of Flax Oil Press Machines for Healthy Oil Extraction

In today's health-conscious society, there is a growing emphasis on using natural and organic ingredients in our daily lives. When it comes to cooking oils, flaxseed oil has gained popularity for its numerous health benefits. To extract this nutritious oil efficiently, the market offers a range of flax oil press machines. In this article, we will explore the versatility and benefits of these machines and how they can help in the extraction of not only flaxseed oil but also other popular oils like sunflower oil, peanut oil, soybean oil, and sesame oil.

[ginnysgraffiti]

BRUCE WAYNE x yn.

bruce wayne on vacation with you (and alfred) head-canons:

settings:

- bruce doesn’t “vacation” in the traditional sense. he disappears. disconnection is the point. italy is just far enough from gotham, and just close enough to his parents’ old europe memories, to tempt him.

- you’re staying in a sleek, private villa on the amalfi coast. ocean-facing cliffs. private pool inside and outside. private tennis court. secluded. the kind of place that whispers in old money and smells like lemon and salt.

- alfred picked the villa. he pretended it was for “a bit of sunlight” and “proper olive oil,” but really he thought it might help bruce feel human for once.

domestic mornings + boat days:

- bruce wakes up early. not batman-early, but still earlier than he should. you wake to the sound of the sea and the faint clinking of dishes — he’s in the kitchen, trying to brew espresso like alfred taught him. it’s terrible. you never told him. but he tries. every morning.

- he reads the paper barefoot, shirtless, glasses perched low on his nose. you steal the section he’s reading just to annoy him. he lets you — with a smirk hidden behind his coffee.

- you both brush your teeth side by side in the enormous marble bathroom, elbowing each other like kids. he always steals your towel. alfred usually strolls in at some point with a disapproving look and a perfectly ironed linen shirt.

“i thought two billionaires could manage to make a functional coffee machine work.”

- bruce pilots the boat himself. of course. it’s about control, about escape — not luxury. he’s quiet at the helm, sunglasses on, jaw tight. every turn is clean, perfect, precise. everything Gotham isn’t.

- he lets you lie across the sun-warmed deck, legs tangled with his, fingers skimming the sea spray. there’s a softness there — a private peace that only you see. no reporters. no board meetings. no masks.

- he’ll sometimes dive off the boat in silence, emerging slick and breathless. when you join him, he watches you swim like you’re something impossible. like joy personified. sometimes he would untie your bikini while you two are swimming just to see your reaction.

- he doesn’t laugh often, but when he does — usually at something you say, or when Alalfred pretends to slip into the sea “by accident” — it’s real. low, gravelly, and makes your chest tighten with affection.

- bruce packs lunch in a cooler like it’s a mission briefcase. grapes, olives, little sandwiches alfred cut diagonally (“as it should be”). and wine, because of course.

- he lets you pilot the boat sometimes — and pretends not to hover, but absolutely hovers. hands near yours. giving “suggestions.” “you’re drifting to port.” “i’m literally not.”

- you both wear swimsuits under linen, sunglasses, and matching smugness. he never sunburns — you accuse him of being genetically modified. he claims it “discipline.” alfred says it’s “a leathery sort of vanity.”

- at anchor, he lounges on the deck with his head in your lap while you read aloud from whatever novel you found in the villa. he listens with his eyes closed, hand curled loosely around your thigh.

- alfred occasionally joins for the boat days — usually to bring “actual food” or sit in the shade with a book. he never swims. claims it’s “a matter of dignity.”

local errands + wandering:

- bruce actually enjoys going into town with you. walks the cobblestone streets in tailored shirts and sunglasses like some international art dealer. still somehow invisible. only some locals recognize him — and they don’t care too much.

- he picks out fresh figs with the precision of someone analyzing evidence. you joke he looks like he’s profiling fruit. he laughs, quietly.

- at the market, you stop to buy sunflowers. bruce carries them the whole way back like it’s the most important thing he’s ever held.

- alfred always finds a cafe to sit in while you wander. he pretends not to watch over you like a hawk. bruce doesn’t pretend. he watches your reflection in every shop window.

evenings:

- dinner is simple, warm, and always eaten slowly. bruce likes hearing you talk about small things. favorite pasta shapes. a weird dream you had. he listens like it’s important.

- dinner is always outside. al fresco on the terrace, candlelight flickering over aged wine and fresh seafood. alfred insists on cooking half the time, and critiques the other half with brutal elegance.

- bruce often eats in silence, swirling wine, watching the stars. he’ll touch your hand under the table — always gentle, always like he’s reminding himself you’re still here.

- you catch him staring sometimes. not in lust — in awe. like he can’t quite believe he’s allowed this moment. that someone like him can sit in peace and not pay for it with blood.

- after dinner, he’ll sometimes pull you into his lap on the chaise lounge. he won’t say much — just rest his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around you, warm breath against your skin. “stay a while longer.” you always do.

- sometimes, you both dance in the living room. no music — just the hush of waves and the occasional soft scoff from alfred in the corner with his wine. “shall i fetch rose petals and a string quartet as well?”

- other times, after dinner, bruce will sit behind you and rub your shoulders, whispering whatever alfred cooked next time, he’s replicating. he’s not good at compliments — but he adores when you laugh.

- you fall asleep on the couch half the nights. he always carries you to bed.

bruce being bruce:

- wears white linen shirts, rolled to the elbows. tailored, of course. somehow never wrinkles. wears them open when it’s just you — revealing sun-bronzed skin and a few fading bruises.

- still works out every morning. early. alfred rolls his eyes at the makeshift rooftop pull-up bar. “do try not to rebuild the batcave in every country we visit, master wayne.”

- he checks gotham news secretly when you’re asleep. watches CCTV of the manor. sometimes replays footage of past nights on patrol. you caught him once. he denied. you let him.

- brings a secure phone everywhere. he never answers it.

private moments:

- he touches you more, here in vacation. not always sexually — but constantly. a hand at your waist. a thumb brushing your knuckles. a kiss to your temple while you’re reading on the balcony.

- he makes love to you like he’s praying. slow. intentional. with reverence. he needs it here — not the roughness, not the release — but the closeness. the proof that he’s still human.

[ghostlynightpanda]

I am so so SO sorry to bother but I just read your recent Ranpo fic (the one with the "emotionless" reader that I requested) AND IT'S SO COOL!! I genuenly love your writing style and you seem like a cool person! Yet again, I know you said you don't mind it, BUT SORRY IF I RAMBLE AGAIN!

If it isn't much of a bother, I would love a small continuation to that fic! Like, the ending was reader getting a quick peck from Ranpo and them finely, genuenly smiling for once, so since that day, reader started to feel weirder than usual. They still do their usual, casualy helping around so they can show they care and feel useful. But Ranpo has noticed that for the few couple of days, they have been acting...weird around him. They still helped him and talked calmly as usual, but they would do things as avoiding eye contact or keeping a distance, as if scared he might reach out to touch them. He wouldn't admit it, but he did start to consider that maybe he made them uncomfortabile? But no. This was yet another day in the office, but reader, after making sure no one else beside Ranpo was there, they aproched him quietly, looking as monotone as usual. Ranpo questioned them, but they just stood there quietly and sudenly Ranpo saw it. For once he saw them nervous. But...why? Well, without a second word, reader leans down, presses a kiss to his lips (just like he did with them) but made it last just a couple of seconds longer before standing up, saying goodbye, and leaving the office. For once they didn't look blank, because their face was red. Ranpo managed to make someone "emotionless" have (aka: show) emotions.

Silent Acts - Part 2

Synopsis: After the brief kiss from Ranpo awakens unfamiliar feelings, you begin quietly unraveling, struggling to understand the warmth left behind—until, unable to ignore it any longer.

content/warnings: Ranpo Edogawa x fem!reader, fluff, 1.929 words

Part 1 Part 3

The Agency was alive with its usual chaos.

Kunikida was lecturing Atsushi again about misfiled reports, Kenji was trying to convince Yosano to let him plant a sunflower on the windowsill, and you… you were doing what you always did. Quietly existing just outside the noise, making everything work like a well-oiled machine without anyone needing to ask.

You placed a can of Yosano’s preferred iced coffee beside her monitor, already opened the way she liked it. You dropped off Kunikida’s corrected, color-coded schedule for the week—nothing flashy, just the updated version slipped into his folder where he’d find it without having to swallow his pride. Kenji’s favorite strawberry milk was tucked into the office fridge, right where he’d spot it. Atsushi’s desk had been subtly cleared of clutter, and the chair at the quiet corner by the window—his usual retreat when his thoughts grew loud—was already cleaned and waiting.

All of this was routine. Normal.

But the moment you approached Ranpo’s desk, you hesitated.

He was already sprawled in his usual position, chair tilted back, one foot resting on the edge of his desk, a half-empty bag of candy in his lap. His eyes weren’t even open, but you knew better than to assume he wasn’t paying attention.

You kept your pace steady, expression blank as always, and gently set a fresh pack of his favorite strawberry candies beside his elbow. The same brand. The same quantity. Same time of day, just like always.

But you didn’t linger. Not like you usually did.

And more importantly—you didn’t look at him.

Ranpo’s eyes cracked open just enough to watch you walk away, your shoulders a little straighter than usual, your posture slightly too stiff. Subtle things. Things no one else would have caught.

But he did.

You always gave him a glance, even if it was fleeting. You always said something—quiet, monotone, but something.

Today? Not a word. Not even a glance.

He popped a candy into his mouth, chewing slowly, watching the back of your head as you returned to your desk across the room. Your movements were precise, focused, still efficient—but something was off.

You were off.

And only with him.

Ranpo narrowed his eyes.

It had been like this for three days now.

Same quiet dedication. Same helpful, subtle gestures. But only around him, your behavior had shifted. No eye contact. Slight physical distance. Briefer interactions. Like you were avoiding something—or maybe someone.

Him.

He leaned forward slightly in his chair, resting his chin in his hand. You didn’t look up. You were already absorbed in typing a case report someone else had abandoned.

“You’re being weird,” he said aloud, candy stick now bobbing between his teeth.

You didn’t flinch. But you didn’t reply either.

Definitely weird.

Ranpo’s tone turned more curious than playful. “What? Did I offend you or something?”

Still no answer. No glance.

His voice dropped a little. “...Was it the kiss?”

That made your fingers pause for half a second over the keyboard.

Half a second. Barely anything. But for Ranpo, it was all the confirmation he needed.

He blinked slowly, settling back in his chair with an unreadable expression.

Now he didn’t say anything. But he was watching you closely.

Waiting.

Because whatever this was—it wasn’t over yet.

The days passed, and you didn’t change.

Not really.

You still helped. Still showed care in the only way you knew how—by acting like the backbone of the office, quietly holding everyone together from behind the scenes. But around Ranpo, that quiet confidence was gone. You avoided being near him longer than necessary. You didn’t look at him unless forced to. When you did, your eyes slipped away just as quickly.

And Ranpo… tried to pretend it didn’t bother him.

At first.

“Oh no,” he drawled dramatically on the fourth morning, sprawling further across the couch in the corner. “Y/N didn’t tell me I was a genius today. I might crumble from neglect.”

Atsushi just chuckled awkwardly, assuming Ranpo was being his usual theatrical self. Yosano rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at him.

You didn’t even react. You were on the other side of the room, head bent over two overlapping reports.

Ranpo’s grin stayed on his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

The fifth day, he tried baiting you.

You were walking past with a case file tucked under your arm when he popped up from his chair, suddenly blocking your path.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, rocking on his heels. “You’ve been real quiet lately. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

Your eyes met his for a single beat—and then flicked to the space just over his shoulder. Your voice was flat, just like always.

“I’m not.”

And then you sidestepped him.

Ranpo watched you go with a faint frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You’re lying, he thought. And badly.

But you never lied. You didn’t see the point.

That made it worse.

The sixth day, he actually got annoyed.

“Why does it bother me?” he mumbled under his breath, pacing in the breakroom while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. “They’re still helping. Still bringing me candy. Still showing up.”

But the gap was there. It was small, invisible to anyone else—but he felt it.

You didn’t sit on the same couch anymore, even when it was the only open seat. You took the long route around his desk. When you handed him his coffee earlier, your fingers were careful not to touch his.

You were careful with everyone. That wasn’t new.

But now, you were careful with him in a way that hadn’t existed before.

Ranpo stared at the vending machine for a long moment, face unreadable, before pressing his forehead against it with an annoyed grunt.

“...I broke them,” he muttered. “I broke them with a single kiss. Am I too charming for my own good?”

The vending machine, unfortunately, didn’t answer.

Back at the main office, things continued as normal.

No one else noticed.

Kunikida was too busy yelling at Dazai, who was too busy trying to "test gravity" with his office chair again. Atsushi and Kenji were running back and forth with documents. Yosano was on a call.

Only Ranpo was watching. Noticing.

And with every passing day of silence, the tension wound tighter around him like invisible thread.

He hated this feeling.

Uncertainty.

And more than that… he hated that you were the one making him feel it.

The office was finally quiet.

For once, the air wasn’t buzzing with bickering, rustling paper, or Dazai’s theatrical attempts at attention. The sun was low, casting long streaks of warm orange across the walls. Everyone else had left—either out on assignment or gone home for the evening.

Everyone except you and Ranpo.

You’d waited. Made sure of it.

He sat with one leg curled under him on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through a snack catalog someone had left behind, eyes only half-focused. He hadn’t said anything to you all afternoon—not since you dropped a bag of his usual strawberry candies on his desk without a word.

But the moment you stepped into his line of sight, something in his posture shifted.

His eyes flicked up, sharp as ever despite the slouch in his body.

He didn’t speak. Just watched as you crossed the room toward him, slow, quiet, precise.

Just like always.

Except this time, you didn’t stop halfway.

You walked all the way over, stopping just a foot in front of him. Still expressionless. Still calm.

But your hands were clenched slightly at your sides.

Ranpo raised an eyebrow. “Well, well,” he said lightly. “And here I thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life walking around me like I was contagious.”

You didn’t laugh. You never did.

But you also didn’t walk away.

Ranpo sat up straighter, the teasing in his tone softening slightly.

“...Okay, seriously, what’s going on with you?”

You didn’t answer right away. You just stood there, staring down at him with a blank face—so familiar, yet somehow tense.

And then he saw it.

Your hands were trembling.

Not a lot. Barely more than a flicker. But it was enough.

His breath caught.

“...Y/N?”

Without a word, you leaned down.

Ranpo’s eyes widened just slightly—just in time for your lips to brush against his.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hesitant.

It was gentle. Real. More than just a mirrored joke.

It lasted just a second or two longer than his had. Long enough to be certain. Long enough to mean something.

When you pulled back, your voice was steady as ever. “Goodbye, Ranpo.”

You turned and walked toward the exit without another word.

But this time, for the first time since he’d known you, your face wasn’t blank.

Your cheeks were flushed pink.

Ranpo blinked, caught somewhere between stunned and speechless.

By the time the door clicked shut behind you, his lips were still slightly parted in surprise. Slowly, his fingers rose to brush his own mouth.

And then—softly, to no one at all—he laughed.

“...So that’s how it feels, huh?”

His eyes lingered on the door.

And for once, the genius detective didn’t know what to do next.

The sky had turned dusky blue by the time you stepped outside.

The air was cooler than you expected, the wind brushing against your face like it was trying to tell you something. You walked with no particular destination—just far enough from the Agency to be truly, utterly alone.

You didn’t understand what you’d just done.

You didn’t even understand why you’d done it.

You pressed a hand to your lips, as if the contact lingered there—like the sensation could be measured, dissected, filed away like everything else you understood.

But it couldn’t.

It should’ve felt strange. Unfamiliar. Unnecessary.

But all you could focus on was the way your chest ached in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. The way your stomach had twisted not from discomfort, but something else. Something soft. Light.

And when you thought about the way Ranpo had looked at you, just before you kissed him—curious, amused, but not mocking—it made that strange sensation tighten in your throat again.

You hated not being able to name things.

Emotions weren’t like case files. They didn’t follow rules or logic or systems you could study. And you had tried—so many times. You’d mimicked what you saw. You learned everyone’s patterns, their comforts, their favorites. You helped because it made you useful.

And usefulness was something you could measure.

But this? This new thing? This unfamiliar warmth that hadn’t left your chest since the moment you walked out?

You didn’t know how to file it away.

You sat on a bench outside a closed bookstore and stared at your hands. They’d stopped trembling, but you could still feel the ghost of the moment clinging to your fingertips.

You weren’t sure if you’d done the right thing.

You weren’t sure what Ranpo would say tomorrow.

You weren’t sure what this meant—for him, for you, for the delicate balance you’d built to keep yourself functioning.

But for the first time…

Not knowing didn’t feel like a failure.

It just felt real.

And as that thought settled into your mind like a slow-moving sunrise, something in your face shifted.

Not a full smile. Not yet.

But something close.

And this time… 

You didn’t stop it.

Masterlist

[biggie-chcese]

Gift Giving in Rain Code

playing 100line had me remembering how it always made me sad that rain code never lets the player give gifts to the other detectives. they're a cute and fun way to flesh out the cast and deepen character bonds.

it'd be fun to have some sort of magical gachapon machine in the city that dispenses gifts if you gather collectable "Shinigami-coins" similar to how you find shinigami statues laying around, so there are more reasons to explore kanai ward. or maybe detective points could even be spent on it so there are more reasons to do side-quests.

if you give the best gifts, you can unlock a conversation or event with the other detectives like a sort of upgraded gumshoe gab. it'd be even better if you can unlock interactions where the cast could hang out as a group...

so here's my comprehensive list of what i think the cast's favorite gifts would be if you got to do danganronpa-style gachapon gifts:

(some spoilers under the cut. i have some overlap in gifts because i'm considering what it'd be like if it was actually in the game)

Shinigami: Bloodstained Knife, Girl's Panties, Rice Ball Treat, Risque Bikini, Yuma Plushie

Yakou: Kamasaki Meat Bun (obviously), Cheap Booze, Handmade Detective's Badge, Cigarette Pack, Arcade Tickets

Halara: Kitten Plushie, 5,000 Shien Bill, Steel Heels, Lucky Cat Keychain, Lollipop Bouquet

Desuhiko: Makeup Kit, Fresh Threads, Guitar Amp, Girl's Panties, Fizzy Soda Pop

Fubuki: Legendary Sword, Chocolate Energy Bar, Retro Gaming Console, Ornate Dagger, Adventurer's Whip

Vivia: Big Fluffy Pillow, Obscure Book Collection, Sleep Mask, Mysterious Syringe, Sharp Razors

Kurumi: High Quality Camera, Play Detective's Kit, Running Shoes, Night Vision Goggles, Gossip Magazine

Makoto: Champagne, Snazzy Suit, Rubber Ducky, Creepy Mask, Charcuterie Board, (Secret favorite gift: Sherlock Holmes Story Collection)

(even though the train detectives never make it to kanai ward, i did theirs for fun)

Zilch: Wolf Pelt, Leather Boots, Sunflower Seeds, Survivalist's Lighter, Glasses Cleaner

Aphex: Switchblade, Playing Cards, Spiked Baseball Bat, Men's Fitness Magazine, Tissue Box

Pucci: Noise Canceling Headphones, Cute Pouch, Bear Plushie, Fidget Toy, Pudding Treat

Melami: Flashy Jacket, Makeup Kit, Platform Boots, Occult Magazine, Stick-on Rhinestones

Zange: Model Revolver, Whiskey, Flip Phone, Hair Gel, Fountain Pen, Hand Mirror

and i also did the peacekeepers for fun, even though I genuinely believe yuma would never give them gifts lol:

Yomi: Torture Instrument Set, Golden Cane Tip, Royal Crown, Model Gun, Fuzzy Handcuffs

Martina: Ball Gag, Parasol, Elegant Motorcycling Gear, Forged Evidence, Picture of Yomi

Swank: Gold Bars, 5,000 Shien Bill, Sirloin Steak, Fancy Cigar, Leather Wallet

Seth: Megaphone, Wilted Bouquet, Wooden Flute, Dried Flower Bookmark, Ear Plugs

Guillaume: Crystal Ball, Tarot Reading Set, Occult Magazine, Streaming Headset, Voodoo Doll

Dominic: Machine Oil, Training Weights, Sleep Mask, Metal Polish, Punching Bag

also, for fun, i think if you could give gifts to yuma as another character, this would be his gift list:

Yuma: Instant Coffee Packets (after chapter 0, he gets upset if you give him a cup of already prepared coffee), Sherlock Holmes Story Collection, Handmade Detective's Badge, Rubiks Cube, Strange Keychain (the keychain is a tiny shinigami figurine, like the canon overworld collectables)

the description for the keychain would say "A small metal keychain featuring a strange ghost. It's said to store fond memories of friendship."

and that's that! if anyone has any other ideas for a gift giving system in rain code i'd love to hear them!

[gofishygo]

dark siren! ghoap x reader

notes: kidnapping, initially just ghost x soap

siren! soap likes to collect the pretty human artefacts that have washed into the open ocean. books that had been weathered down by tide, necklaces with rhinestones plucked out through rough currents, sometimes old toys- bits of them, that he broken and melded to match the mines in darker parts of the ocean he had yet to explore. darker parts, where siren! ghost had came from. now, he- both live a simpler life than before- hunting below the surface with the other, drawing on delicate cuttlefish shell and drying coral with the edge of his claws. he is no longer forced to think about them. the ships that poisoned his waters, the fishhook that impaled the side of his head with a starburst scar, humans.

(of course he still does.)

because in recent times, he finds himself.. almost eroding, chipping away with the march of time. and although he likes to sum it to no longer reeling the rush of missions, the adrenaline of fights where sailors ended up entangled in algae on the sea floor, he thinks- knows that he is missing something.

(when he was decades younger- still johnny, he would disassemble the smaller fishing boats and their engines- pick apart until there was nothing but gear and wood and oil, until all he could see was the simplest parts of such a complex machine, and he would always know exactly how it had sunk years before humans would ever realise. he could have saved them, knowing what they had needed before they, themselves had.)

and he is restless, tapping against both rocks and relics, despite how ghost weaves his fingers between his. spends his late nights rummaging through waterlogged pages in a dry cavern, eyes lingering for a second too long on any depiction humans- soft faces, smooth and unscaled skin, legs that he could snap and shatter within a moments notice. he hates these things, the only animal that he has wished to drive extinct. hates what he suspects he thinks about the almost docile statures in those books. but, though he has never been out of the water, has never seen grass paddocks and forest thickets and gardens firsthand, he suddenly feels like he is a sunflower, neck arched up proudly to the surface, face longing for the warmth of the sun and the dampness of freshwater in solid earth, and silently, with clandestine embedded into his thoughts- the touch of a human who has never seen the coldness, roughness of an ocean full of sirens, who has only ever lived in places that he imagines in his dreams.

but ghost, he grows on him, continues to grow on him like barnacles crusted onto the find of whales and scared into wharfside rocks- gripping onto his sides- intense, crushing, but with near unbearable loyalty. he knows that the siren would do anything for his best interests- even if he is not fully aware of his own, yet. only needs to kiss the younger, taste the saltwater of soap’s lips on his, to know the words that soap does not yet know how to say.

and the next time ghost sees soap on the shorelines, there is no trinket or inanimate gift in his hand- not a sand dollar, sea glass, not even the tiny sculptures that the people of the wharfside cities make. it is soft, and moving, sobbing into his shoulder, tears creating crystalline streaks over marred flesh, and it is beautiful. it is a human, far prettier than those inked, stone cold faces he has fought, with shiny eyes and babbled cries instead of violent claims of violence, sleazy and crooked teeth. soap thinks it is the sweetest thing ever, wants to keep it tucked under his fins, knows that ghost thinks so too.

“please, won’t ever go to the seaside again, ‘ll be good, move far out from here, into the mainlands- never bother your home again, please, promise-“

and for the first time, johnny sees what ghost does- knows exactly what this poor, terrified creature needs. he scoops you up, all kicking and screaming, hand cupping the side of your face. kisses the crown of your head so gently- and then you disappear under the tide.

[flora1233]

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[holylulusworld]

Flowers (3) - Soapwort

Summary: Soapwort is the essence of bewilderment and confusion.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of FWB arrangement, Bucky is still confused

Flowers (2) - Snapdragon

Flowers masterlist

Rule number one. You should never trust a man. If you let them between your legs or in your heart, you are done for. 

Grandmother Y/L/N was right. Men don’t deserve your attention, love or to feel the warmth of your pussy.

Especially when said man is a cheating cunt. The kind of man who fucks you straight into the mattress only to give a red-haired bitch sunflowers later.

“Sergeant Barnes asked if you changed your mind,” Maria watched your reaction. She's not interested in getting involved in your relationship drama with Bucky but worried about the upcoming missions. “You worked well together in the past. Like a well-oiled machine.”

“That’s in the past,” you huffed. “I thought you were on my side in this. What changed? Did the man-baby ask his buddy Captain America to help him get what he wants?”

“This has nothing to do with Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes seemed to be desperate about your sudden change of behavior,” she pointed out. “Is it possible that he’s not cheating on you? Maybe he’s just…dull.”

“Dull?” You cocked a brow. “James Buchanan Barnes may be many things, but he’s not dull!”

“Y/N, believe me. Men can be unbelievably dull when it comes to recognizing feelings.”

“We never talked about feelings, Maria. This is not the problem here. It’s that he had sex with me and gave that woman something he never gave me. Flowers. And he dared to give her my smile.”

Maria dipped her head to watch Dolores walk past you. You didn’t even recognize the red-haired devil, but Maria did. She saw the glint in Dot’s eyes and the smug grin on her lips when she glanced at you for a moment. 

“I think, you should talk to Barnes. I know from experience, that men sometimes can’t distinguish a lonely woman from a lying wench.”

You wrinkle your forehead and consider her words. No. Even if he didn’t have anything going on with Dolores, he still gave her flowers. Who knows what else he did with her behind your back?

“I don’t get it Steve,” Bucky threw his hands up. “I thought everything was going in the right direction. We talked for hours and had fun together. She loved my bike and going on a ride. The sex was mind-blowing. Y/N and I just clicked.”

“Did you go on dates with her?” Steve questioned, raising a brow. “Did you tell anyone about your relationship? Because I know for sure you didn’t tell me about it.”

Bucky huffed, beyond frustrated. “We wanted to keep it a secret. Y/N never said that we wanted to tell anyone. I waited for her to tell me she was ready.”

“Buck, you told me that you had sex with Y/N that morning,” Steve shrugged at his friend’s angry expression. “And then you go and give Dolores, a woman you barely know, flowers.”

“ONE FLOWER! STEVE!” Bucky yelled and rammed his metal fist into the wall. “It was one flower. If only Y/N had stayed a little longer and not played hide and seek, I would’ve given her the rest of the sunflowers.”

“Why didn’t you give them to her first, Buck? Why give the flower to Dot first?” Steve yelled back. He barely raises his voice, but Bucky turns a blind eye to Dot’s foul play for too long.

“I bought the flowers for Y/N, Steve. I was on my way to her apartment, and then Dolores started to cry. I tried to soothe her, punk. I faked a smile, handed her the sunflower, and walked away.”

“If that’s the truth, go and explain things to Y/N instead of moping like an angry child. I love you like a brother, but if I must watch you pout for one more second I’ll punch your face.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Uh-I don’t know how to start. I didn’t even know Y/N was mad at me. I’m so…” The brunette shrugged. "Confused."

“Buck, you’re not a confused puppy. Go,” Steve pushed Bucky toward your room, “and get your woman back. Oh, maybe you should offer more than a pout to her…” But not flowers. This would only make her mad.

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[alexa-yukiyu]

The Tale of Cats and Birds (Zoro x gn!Reader)

A/N: I really went back and forth with this one, I almost dropped it but I kept going and I think I COOKED, here is my first platonic!reader x character!

Dividers by @/saradika

“Again? Nami, you are definitely setting this pair buddy things up; how is it that I have been Zoro’s partner every single time we draw straws?” Reader sighs holding up the straw with the matching number said man was holding.

"Well, can you blame us? Zoro can’t find his way even if he is stuck in a straight line! So you are the perfect buddy system!”

“First of all, “us,” so all of you were in on it? Second of all, you have been pairing me with him all this time because of my homing instinct?!” They exclaim, their feathers ruffling up

“Yeah. We think he needs a buddy partner to navigate while he does the heavy lifting. I mean, just look at you and him! You two work like a well-oiled machine.” Nami explains.

“Im part Dove, not part compass,” they sigh

“Come on! You were born to be his buddy partner. If we didn’t put you two together, everyone would see just how incompetent he really is,” Sanji chimes in.

“Watch it, Curly eyebrows,” Zoro sneers

“Sure, Mr. Lost,” Sanji scoffs

“Shut up!”

“Okay! Okay! I think it’s time we head out! Off we go, Zoro!” reader quickly said, stepping in between them to dissolve the fight

“Hmph,” Zoro mutters. He then looks at you and rolls his eyes. It’s clear he is still ticked off, but he follows you down the ship’s gangway anyway.

They sighed, relieved that they had managed to avoid yet another fight between the two

As the two of you walk, you notice Zoro glaring at the clouds, his eyebrows furrowed together. He then lets out a deep sigh and grumbles to himself.

“You want to go take a nap? I saw a pretty tree close by.”

Zoro snorts.

“That sounds like a good idea…”

They grin

“You are like a cat, even got yourselves sharp claws like one,” they said, pointing at their swords

“You’re grumpy like one too.”

“Shut up…” Zoro grumbles, but he is unable to hide his slight blush at the thought. He follows you over to the tree and then sits down, resting his head against the trunk. The grass beneath him is soft and welcoming.

“You’re not denying it, though.” They giggle, fluttering to a branch above them and settling down, lying face down so they are able to stretch their wings and talk to the man below them

Zoro remains silent, unwilling to admit he sees a little truth in their words. He leans back against the tree, closing his eyes to enjoy the peace. The birds flying past him chirp happily, the sun warms his skin, and the soft grass underneath him is comforting. After a few minutes of relaxing, Zoro finally lets out a deep sigh.

“Oi, bird, catch.”

“Hmm?” They squeak as Zoro throws a small bag their way, scrambling to catch it and flapping their wings to maintain their balance on the branch they laid on.

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to catch the bag. Once you catch it, you unravel it and find it’s filled with sunflower seeds.

“You got me my favorite?!” They cheer

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your feathers fluffed,” he replies, though he can’t entirely hide his amusement.

“Zoro… you really are like a cat. You act grumpy, but you’re really a softy, aren’t you?”

He grunts, but he can’t really disguise the redness on his cheeks.

“Yeah yeah, just eat your damn seeds…” he mumbles.

They grin, plopping a few in their mouth

“Thank you, Zoro.”

I have wanted to experiment with different hybrid readers or reader of different species, listen guys I did a roulette I swear I din’t mean for all of my current hybrid!readers to be birds XD.

Taglist

@imaginarydreams

[thebunnednun]

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Part 7)

I do not own the artwork its by: @xuchuan25 Tell them they're amazing y'all!

Part 2 of the lore today, 06/06/2024. Upon popular DM request the reader is also Caribbean and Mihawk will additionally speak spanish.

Backstory:

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a badass, sweetheart. Sexy, cool, and confident, with a reputation that precedes you. Been friends with the stoic man for eons by now.

Everyone knows you or knows of you, and it's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine.

So what happens when you develop feelings for your old friend and boss?

What does he do when he comes home to find you in his room without your panties?

___________________Chapter 7: First Meetings____________________

Summary:

The story of how a younger you was introduced to Mihawk by Shanks and Buggy. Everyone is in their mid to late teens in this.

Buggy was a lively and flamboyant teenager, already beginning to experiment with the clown makeup that would become his signature look. His bright blue hair was unruly, sticking out in all directions, adding to his eccentric appearance. He often sported bold, red lipstick, and other bits of flashy make up. (Initially to compliment as a joke but quickly becoming a part of his identity.) Buggy's eyes were sharp and mischievous, always looking for the next adventure or prank. His bond with [Name] was special; she was one of the few who could handle his antics, often stealing his lipstick, leading to playful arguments and deepening their camaraderie.

Shanks was growing into a charismatic and charming young man, with a carefree attitude that endeared him to many. His red hair was beginning to grow out, often tousled and windblown, adding to his roguish charm. Recently, he had started to grow some scruff, which [Name] never failed to tease him about, calling him "scruffy" or "fuzzy." His attire was casual and practical, usually consisting of a simple shirt, trousers, and a long coat. Shanks’ eyes sparkled with a sense of adventure and mischief, always ready for the next big thing. Despite his playful nature, he had a deep sense of loyalty and cared deeply for his friends, especially Buggy and [Name].

[Name] was blossoming into a beautiful young Caribbean woman, with a grace and strength that drew the attention of many. Her skin had a warm, sun-kissed glow, and her eyes were full of determination and kindness. She wore her hair in a variety of styles, often adorned with golden beads or shells that reflected her vibrant culture. Her attire was practical yet elegant, often consisting of breezy, colorful dresses or fitted pants and tops that allowed her to move freely. As more people began to notice her beauty, she started to wear a mask and cloak in public to avoid unwanted attention and to keep a low profile. [Name] had a strong, nurturing presence, always looking out for her friends and those in need.

--------------- The young Hawk and Empress------------------

The bustling market was alive with the sounds of vendors calling out their wares, the clink of coins, and the chatter of people going about their business. It was a busy afternoon, and you were navigating through the crowded streets, searching for any signs or leads that could point you toward the man who took baby Ace. The scents of exotic spices and freshly baked goods filled the air, making your stomach growl in response.

“Muneca-chan, over here!” Buggy’s voice rang out above the noise, his tone playful and teasing as always. You spotted his bright blue hair bobbing above the crowd and made your way toward him.

“Sunflower!” Shanks called out from another direction, his red hair standing out like a beacon. He was grinning widely, holding up a shiny apple he had just bought from a vendor.

You smiled at their antics, feeling a warmth in your chest. Despite everything, their presence was a constant comfort. You reached Buggy first, who immediately pulled you into a bear hug, nearly lifting you off your feet.

“Buggy, I need to breathe!” you laughed, pushing at his shoulders.

“Sorry, Muneca-chan,” he said, setting you down but keeping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve got something to show you.”

Shanks approached, tossing you the apple. “Eat up, Sunflower. You’ll need your strength.”

You caught the apple and took a bite, savoring the sweet taste. “What’s so important that you dragged me to this town?”

Shanks and Buggy exchanged glances, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “We’ve got someone you need to meet,” Shanks said, his grin widening.

“Follow us,” Buggy added, leading the way through the throng of people.

They guided you to a quieter part of the market, where a tall young man with striking golden eyes and a large sword strapped to his back stood, seemingly unaffected by the chaos around him. His gaze was intense, observing everything with a calm, analytical air.

“Mihawk!” Shanks called out, waving. “Over here!”

The man turned his head, his eyes locking onto you. There was a moment of silence as he took you in, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. There was something about him that commanded attention.

“Mihawk, this is [Name],” Shanks introduced, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “She’s the one leading our little mission.”

Mihawk extended a hand, and you shook it, feeling the strength in his grip. “Nice to meet you, Mihawk.”

“Likewise,” he replied, his voice steady. “Shanks has told me a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you said, smiling.

“Mostly,” Mihawk said, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

The initial meeting didn't go as smoothly as Shanks and Buggy had hoped. Mihawk’s intense, almost aloof demeanor clashed with your fiery determination. The tension was palpable as you discussed plans, Mihawk’s questions coming off as more critical than curious.

“We’re looking for Vice-Admiral Garp,” Shanks lied smoothly, not wanting to reveal too much to Mihawk just yet. “He’s our best lead.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. “Garp? Why would a Vice-Admiral be interested in your affairs?”

You felt your frustration building, especially when Mihawk's questions turned into teasing jabs about your abilities and motivations. “Maybe he’s interested because we’re capable of things you can’t even imagine,” you snapped.

Mihawk’s smirk widened. “Is that so? Care to demonstrate?”

Before you knew it, you had snatched Yoru from Mihawk’s back, its weight surprising you but not deterring you. You pointed the massive blade at him, your eyes blazing with anger. “Do you think this is a joke? We’re not here to play games, Mihawk.”

For a moment, Mihawk’s golden eyes widened in genuine surprise. But then, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. “I didn’t expect you to have such fire, [Name].”

Shanks and Buggy, realizing things were escalating, stepped in quickly. “Alright, everyone, calm down,” Shanks said, placing a hand on Mihawk’s shoulder while Buggy tried to gently pry Yoru from your grip.

“Muneca-chan, relax,” Buggy urged. “We’re all on the same side here.”

You reluctantly let go of Yoru, feeling the anger simmering beneath the surface. Mihawk took his sword back, his gaze never leaving yours. There was a new respect there, but also a hint of amusement.

“Let’s try to work together,” Shanks suggested, his tone placating. “We have a common goal, after all.”

Mihawk nodded slowly. “Very well. But remember, [Name], strength comes in many forms. Let’s see if you can live up to your reputation.”

The tension eased slightly, but the underlying friction remained. Perhaps, in time, you would find a way to trust each other. But for now, the uneasy alliance would have to suffice.

As the group moved through the bustling market, you noticed a group of young children playing a game of pirates and marines in the town square. Their laughter and shouts were infectious, and you found yourself smiling despite the tension of the day.

One of the children, a little girl with pigtails, brandished a wooden sword and declared, “I’m the pirate captain! Surrender, or face my wrath!”

Her friends, playing the roles of marines, laughed and pretended to be scared, some playfully running away while others “surrendered” dramatically. You couldn’t resist joining in. “Ahoy there, captain!” you called out, crouching down to their level. “Need a first mate?”

The children looked at you with wide eyes, excited to have an adult join their game. “Yes! We need all the help we can get!” the girl declared.

You laughed and pulled out a small bag of candy you had bought earlier, handing it out to the children. “Every good pirate needs some treasure,” you said with a wink.

The kids’ faces lit up with joy as they accepted the treats, and soon you were in the thick of their game, helping them plot “pirate attacks” and outsmart the “marines.” The laughter and fun were a welcome distraction, and for a moment, you felt like a carefree child again.

As the game wound down, you gathered the children around and knelt to speak to them. “Remember, being a pirate isn’t just about having fun and finding treasure. It’s about being brave, looking out for your friends, and always doing what you believe is right. Can you do that?”

The children nodded eagerly, their eyes shining with excitement and admiration. “Yes, we can!”

“Good,” you said with a smile. “Now, go out there and be the best pirates you can be!”

With that, you stood and waved goodbye to the children, who ran off to continue their game. You felt a tug of longing as you watched them go, wishing you could protect their innocence forever.

“Muneca-chan!” Buggy’s voice called from up ahead. “You coming?”

You hurried to catch up, falling into step beside Buggy. Shanks hung back, watching Mihawk observe your interaction with the children. He couldn’t help but grin and leaned in close to Mihawk.

“You know, Mihawk,” Shanks teased, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a bit smitten.”

Mihawk’s eyes flicked to Shanks, his expression impassive. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “Oh, come on. Admit it. You were watching her with those kids,” Shanks pressed, his grin widening. Mihawk rolled his eyes. “I was merely observing. She seems to have a knack for connecting with people.”

“Uh-huh,” Shanks said, clearly unconvinced but willing to drop the subject for now. “Whatever you say, Hawk Eyes.”

As evening fell, the group found an inn and rented a room for the night. The room was modest but comfortable, with enough space for all of you to sit and discuss your plans.

Shanks sprawled out on one of the beds, Buggy took a chair by the window, and Mihawk stood by the door, his usual stance. You sat on the edge of the other bed, looking at your companions. “Alright,” you began, pulling out a map of the area. “We need to find Vice-Admiral Garp. He’s our best chance at getting information on my brothers whereabouts.”

Buggy leaned forward, his expression serious. “Garp’s a tough one to track. He’s always on the move.”

Shanks nodded in agreement. “But he has to resupply somewhere. We just need to figure out his usual haunts.”

Mihawk crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the map. “He’s a creature of habit, despite his reputation. If we can determine his pattern, we might predict his next move.”

You looked up at Mihawk, appreciating his strategic mind despite the rocky start to your relationship. “Agreed. We’ll split up and gather information. Buggy, you take the docks. Shanks, the taverns. Mihawk, you and I will check the markets and speak to the locals.”

They all nodded, each understanding their role. As the plans solidified, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. With Shanks, Buggy, and Mihawk by your side, you felt more confident than ever that you would find Ace and fulfill the promise you made to Rouge.

“Let’s get some rest,” you said, folding the map. “We’ll start early tomorrow.”

The room settled into a comfortable silence as everyone prepared for bed. You lay down, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of Ace, Roger, and Rouge. Despite the challenges ahead, you knew you weren’t alone, and that made all the difference.

As you drifted off to sleep, you heard Shanks’ voice whisper in the darkness, “Goodnight, Sunflower.”

“Goodnight, Shanks,” you whispered back, a small smile on your lips.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the following weeks, Mihawk and [Name] embarked on a series of small adventures that tested their mettle and solidified their bond. You grew to trust each other, the camaraderie deepening with each passing day. You shared stories and laughter under the vast expanse of the sky, you felt yourself opening up to Mihawk in ways different from Buggy and Shanks.

One quiet afternoon, as they rested by the seashore, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape as Mihawk and [Name] walked side by side through a dense forest path. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze, creating a serene atmosphere that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface. Despite their initial animosity, they had found a tentative rhythm in their partnership.

As they navigated the winding trail, [Name] glanced at Mihawk from beneath her cloak. "You know, Mihawk, you're not as bad as I first thought," she admitted with a small smile. "Just...incredibly infuriating at times."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his golden eyes. "And you, [Name], are not as reckless as I initially presumed. Only...mostly reckless."

Their playful banter continued, slowly chipping away at the walls they had built around themselves. Over the next few weeks, they shared stories of their pasts, dreams for the future, and the reasons behind their relentless pursuit of their respective goals. Mihawk spoke of his quest to become the greatest swordsman, while [Name] revealed her mission to find Ace and protect Roger's legacy.

One afternoon, as they traversed a riverbank, the peace was shattered by the raucous voices of Shanks and Buggy. The two were engaged in a heated argument over who had the better aim with pebbles. As Shanks hurled a stone at Buggy, intending to splash him, Buggy ducked behind [Name], causing the water to drench her instead.

"[Name]!" Shanks called out, his voice filled with laughter. "Sorry, that was meant for Buggy!"

"THE FUCK DID I DO?"

Drenched and sputtering, [Name] pulled off her mask to wipe her face, revealing her features for the first time to Mihawk. Her features were a harmonious blend of strength and beauty, each element highlighting her unique charm. Her eyes, now glistening with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, were vibrant and expressive, framed by lashes that caught the light in a captivating way. Her cheeks, flushed from the excitement and the chill of the water, added a warm glow to her complexion.

Her hair, damp and tousled, clung to her face in soft, loose curls, the color shimmering in the sunlight. Her lips, curved into a reluctant smile, revealed both a sense of mischief and an underlying warmth. Her skin, smooth and glowing, bore the marks of someone who had weathered many storms but had come out stronger on the other side.

Mihawk couldn't help but admire her. She was striking, not just in the traditional sense of beauty, but in the way she carried herself with grace and resilience. There was an undeniable presence about her that drew people in and made them want to know more.

As she stood there, a slight breeze rustling her hair and the dress Shanks had given her, Mihawk felt a shift within himself. It wasn't just her physical appearance that struck him; it was the essence of who she was — a blend of fierce determination and gentle compassion, someone who could be both a warrior and a caretaker.

Seeing her in this new light, Mihawk found himself smiling, a rare expression for him. Mihawk's breath caught in his throat as he took in her beauty, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior he had come to know.

"Are you alright?" Mihawk asked, his usual stoic demeanor softening as he handed her a dry cloth.

"I'm fine," [Name] replied, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze. She quickly composed herself and shot a glare at Buggy, who was snickering in the background. "Next time, Buggy, you better be the one getting soaked."

Buggy just laughed, while Shanks approached with a sheepish grin. Before he could dwell on the change within himself, Shanks' voice cut through the moment.

"Let me make it up to you, Sunflower. How about we find you a change of clothes?"

With Buggy's help, [Name] changed into a simple day dress that accentuated her natural beauty. As she emerged, Mihawk found himself unable to look away, his admiration evident. Shanks and Buggy exchanged knowing glances, noticing the shift in Mihawk's usually impassive demeanor.

Back at their makeshift camp, Mihawk carefully tended to [Name]'s wet mask, using his own cloak to help dry it by the fire. As they sat in companionable silence, the bond between them grew stronger. They shared more stories, revealing vulnerabilities and forging a deep connection.

One evening, as the fire crackled softly, Mihawk and [Name] sat close, their shoulders nearly touching. [Name] looked up at the sky, her eyes reflecting the twinkling stars. "You know, Mihawk, I never expected to find a new friend in all of this chaos."

Mihawk turned to her, his expression serious yet warm. "Neither did I. But it seems fate has a way of surprising us."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Shanks and Buggy, who plopped down beside them. Shanks pulled out a small camera, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Let's capture this moment, shall we?"

Despite Mihawk's initial protests, the picture was taken, sealing the memory of their time together. Shanks forced everyones arms around each other, although Mihawk only wrapped an arm around [Name]'s waist.

Mihawk was able to pull a stoic face outta his ass at the last second while [Name] smiled with full cheekbones and dimples on display. Buggy had his crooked smile while Shanks was all but smoldering into the camera.

As you and Mihawk looked at the photograph, Buggy couldn't resist a jab at Shanks who looked to be in deep thought.

"Looks like you're the jealous one now, Shanks."

Shanks chuckled, ruffling Buggy's hair. "Maybe I am, Buggy. Maybe I am."

As the night wore on, plans were made, and promises were exchanged. With renewed determination, [Name] prepared to set off on her quest to find Ace, knowing that she had the unwavering support of her friends. They would go their separate ways, but the bond they had forged would remain unbroken, guiding them through whatever trials lay ahead.

And there are a shit ton of trials ahead.

---Bonus

The bustling port town of Loguetown was abuzz with activity as the last rays of the setting sun cast long shadows over the cobblestone streets. Amidst the lively marketplace, two familiar figures navigated through the crowd, their eyes set on a specific destination.

Shanks, with his unmistakable red hair and carefree grin, walked alongside Buggy, whose clownish makeup and bright attire drew curious glances from passersby. Despite their contrasting appearances and the playful banter between them, there was an underlying seriousness to their mission.

"Are you sure he'll be here?" Buggy asked, his tone skeptical as they approached a quiet tavern on the outskirts of the market.

Shanks nodded confidently. "Hawkeye's always been a creature of habit. If he's in town, this is where he'll be."

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, they stepped into the dimly lit interior. The tavern was sparsely populated, with a few patrons scattered around, nursing their drinks in relative silence. At the far corner, a solitary figure sat, his presence commanding despite the low profile he maintained.

Young Dracule Mihawk, with his piercing golden eyes and signature black hat adorned with a large, jeweled cross, sipped his drink, seemingly lost in thought. His formidable sword, Yoru, rested against the table, a silent testament to his burgeoning prowess.

As Shanks and Buggy approached, Mihawk's gaze lifted, meeting theirs with a mixture of curiosity and recognition. He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Mihawk's voice was smooth, carrying a hint of amusement.

Shanks took a seat opposite him, motioning for Buggy to do the same. "We need your help, Mihawk. There's someone we want you to meet."

Buggy leaned forward, eager to elaborate. "Her name's [Name], and she's on a mission. We believe you could be the key to helping her succeed."

Mihawk's interest was piqued. "And why would I be interested in this... mission of hers?"

Shanks leaned back, his expression serious. "Because it's not just about her mission. It's about finding something precious, something that could change the tides of many lives. We think you'll find her intriguing, and her cause just."

Mihawk considered their words carefully. He respected Shanks, and despite their frequent clashes, he found Buggy's antics oddly endearing. If they were willing to vouch for this person, there had to be more to the story.

"Very well," Mihawk said finally, setting down his glass. "I'll meet this [Name] of yours. But understand, my involvement depends on what I see in her."

Shanks grinned, clapping Mihawk on the shoulder. "That's all we ask. You won't regret it."

With that, the three of them rose, the weight of their new alliance settling comfortably among them. As they stepped out into the cool evening air, the promise of a new chapter in their journey began to unfold, one that would bring them closer to finding Ace and perhaps, closer to each other.

______________________________________________________________

I will be turning the story of how reader found Ace into a separate story for Luffy that happens in this universe. So be on the look out!

Part 1 posted: Here

Part 2 is also posted.

Part 3: Posted Here

Part 4 is here my loves.

Part 5 is now posted

Part 6 is also posted.

This is also posted on the a03 account by the same name. A new update post will also be out tomorrow regarding updates and new stories.

Please check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please.

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[buffmrtumnus]

Flowers of Mars - a Warhammer 40k Fic

So, I finally had a go at writing the opening chapter for the AdMech story that's been rattling about for a couple of weeks. I can't promise it will be updated regularly, but when the ideas are there, I can promise that Voltumm and his little gaggle of Tech Priests will continue their adventure.

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Summary

Tech Priest Dominus Voltumm 25-9 is "promoted" to Fabricator General of a newly acquired "Forge" World following a disastrous campaign.

In reality, his new title is a prison, and he's soon trapped on a tiny backwater Agri-World that serves literally no purpose beyond the production of sunflower oil. Armed with a handful of Skitarii and a world full of laymen, he begins the arduous task of transforming this planet into something befitting the Omnissiah.

That is, until a chance encounter changes the fate of the Fabricator General and his newly acquired wards. An angel, fallen from the grace of the Machine God's light, is uncovered on the sleepy world. Soon, the Angel and the Priest find their fates intertwined, on a crash course that will determine the fate of the planet, and challenge both of their faiths.

[oilmakingmachine]

Efficient Sunflower Oil Making Machine for High-Quality Production

Welcome to our comprehensive guide on efficient sunflower oil making machines for high-quality production. we understand the importance of reliable equipment for the oil production industry. In this article, we will explore the key features, benefits, and considerations when selecting the best sunflower oil making machine to meet your production needs. Whether you are a large-scale manufacturer or a small business owner, our goal is to provide you with valuable insights to help you make informed decisions.