#hm. yes. quality content to follow.

[yv-sketches]

I just found out I have 999 followers? And holy vegetable-that-no-one-dares-name, that is insane.

My very first httyd book drawings were from How to cheat a dragon's curse, so here is another from book 4. It's a little messy because it took an hour, but I had to do something for the occasion.

[tonixe]

I saw you were looking for The Boys requests. Please I beg of you ANYTHING between Firecracker and reader. She’s so beautiful and I need to be with her so bad! Literally anything you want to write. It’s just that NO ONE has written for her!!

♱ — country girl — ♱

A/N: Thank you for ur request, I also agree, nobody is writing about Firecracker, our country girl needs some love <3.

WARNING: cursing, tw: abortion, firecracker as a person, tw: tek knight, this might be crackfic sorry.

PAIRING: firecracker x reader

WORD COUNTER: 974

It was so boring at the Tek's Knight party, you were mindlessly taking glasses of alcohol served on a platter to guests that attended, mostly the room filled with important, rich, people of America.

Like you want to be here with these superficial assholes and fucking racists, you had better thing than to be here in this party but you were forced to attend. Most of the members of the seven were here, including you. Here you are, in a party filled with old people who controlled the country, you looked up at the seemingly staring Tek Knight portrait that was on display, "Creepy" You muttered, before you gulped down the content in the glass, swiftly placing it on the waltzing waiter passing by.

It was going to be a while till you were able to leave the party. It was an event where people were the best dressed and for you, the best dress was your costume, shut up and stay still while people talked to you, talking about nonsense and political matters you didn't care about.

You just nodded with a smile.

Tap your fingers on your glasses, looking for anything that can occupy your time. It wasn't the worst, free high-quality alcohol was being served, and interesting-looking food was being served around the party. You looked around the room of guests, and your eyes quickly landed on Homelander, Sage, and Neuman. You quirked your eyebrows at the scene, before taking a sip of the champagne in your glass.

"Hm," You exhaled, swirling the liquid in your glass. The sound of heels clicking on the floor took your attention. You looked up from your cup to see Firecracker walking by you, you didn't get to know a lot about her only to know that she was involved in pageants, hate Starfire maybe a pedophile. You kept your eye on her with amusement as she walked toward the group of supes.

You were way too curious about how the interaction was going to play out, especially with her introduction, it was almost comical.

Everyone in the group just stared at her awkwardly, it was all truly funny and made you laugh a bit. Then Sage dismissed her straight, I guessed it was something snarky towards her. You watched her as walked away quickly, it looked like she was upset about what Sage said. "Trailer trash, huh?" You gulped down your maybe 10th glass of the night and placed it on the walking waiter's tray before you strode to the dessert table.

You recognize the greeting butler of the house taking the cake. “Hey, are you going to take that?" You asked the butler holding the chocolate cake in his hand. "Yes, Miss H/N" He stated, “Would you like a slice?” He questioned, “No, actually I’ll take the whole cake” You shot him a smile, grabbing the cake from him. “Thanks for being such an American patriot” you exclaimed before you walked out to follow Firecracker.

You stepped out of the room where the party guests were. You followed Firecracker, you wanted to keep your steps as silent as possible maybe to surprise her a bit, maybe this was a bit creepy, a little at least. You hid behind one of the white columns, hearing the door behind her close with a 'click' sound.

You stepped out into the hallway, with the cake in hand. You paused for a moment when you reached the door. Before putting your ear near the door to hear sniffing coming from her you backed away. You hesitated to knock, so you just waited on the side of the door until she opened up.

Propping yourself up on the wall, it was a couple of minutes until she opened the door. It was evident she was crying with her tear-stained cheek and the reddening of her irises. Bounced off the wall, "God were you crying, you look like shit" You said bluntly, her brows furrowed when she heard the comment escaping you.

"Shit, my bad, cake?" You prominently offered the cake to her, she looked at it and then at you, "Is this a joke?" She said with her strong accent shining through as she spoke.

Narrowed her eyes at you.

"No, actually this was from the good of my heart, I saw the exchange between you and you know sage?' You said you heard her groan as you talked.

"So, are you going to tell me to drink Everclear or SunnyD" She exclaimed.

"Of course not, I was going to tell you to drink some Dr. Pepper and Jack Daniel" You grin at her smugly,

She furrowed her brows more, you got her pissed, "Jokes" You put up your free hand defensively, "But seriously, I saw you upset and what better way to calm down than with cake, especially chocolate cake" You grinned pointing at the chocolate cake in your hands.

"What in god green earth would make you think I would eat cake with you" She crossed her arms, "Geez if you put it that way...I just wanted to support a friend in need, since you are part of the seven, you know..so cake?" You offered her again before she looked at you and the cake.

"Fine"

..

"You know Sage is like a slithering snake, I just should known" Firecracker grumbled, taking a spoonful of cake and shoving it in her mouth, you hummed in agreement.

"The whole thing with the show and live cast with the starlight bullshit, should of fucking know" Firecracker finished,

"How did you...I mean she even gets information about Starlight abortion?" You asked, stabbing your fork in a piece of cake, Firecracker just shrugged it off, "I mean you took those punches like a champ" You said bluntly, Firecracker glared at you.

"Hey Y/N" You turned towards her,

"What?"

"Fuck you"

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈𝐈𝐈 }.

✰ — PART 3 ; you and kenji are having some time outside together, hand-holding bc yes, more personal moments, reader wearing a dress but not too much into detail for plot reasons.

✰ — did this while having cramps hshshdf sryy it took so long- :")

✩₊˚. PART 1 — PART 2 — PART 4.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓️ !!

DRESSED in a quite lovely dress that just reaches below your knees for a bit— Kenji picked it out for you, of course— he decided to take you out for a 'walk' since it's his day off too, much to his luck.

He had it specifically designed for you alone, even for the chosen colors and patterns that he knew you would love, and the high-quality material is never to be mistaken, since he only wants the best for you; unafraid to waste his money on you.

The gentle breeze has blown your hair ever so slightly, walking hand in hand throughout the usually busy and lively city— the dress you're currently wearing flows so naturally to the wind, which is a sight to behold if one pays close attention enough.

While you presumably have gotten distracted while passing by the various types of stores with eyes full of interest, he couldn't help but to steal a few glances every once in a while.

That's the exact moment, he knew that he was falling in love with you all over again. You looked so vibrant, and content within his presence, and it's all enough for him. He couldn't ask for more.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you've halted in your tracks all of a sudden, much to his confusion, but it recedes away once he realizes that your eyes have landed upon a jewelry store. They apparently got a quite exquisite necklace on an open display for sale, which clearly stands out from the rest, being pristine in appearance, and swiftly grabbing your attention.

But you somehow knew that the price alone is gonna hurt your wallet.

"Has something caught your attention, hm?" Kenji leans his head forward slightly just next to yours, eyes following your line of sight while you shake your head.

"No, no! Just got distracted, that is.." You sheepishly commented, before pulling his arm along as you begin to shift your gaze ahead once more. "Let's go."

A short, yet unmistakably velvety chuckle left his lips as one of his hands grasped your own fittingly back in return— letting his mind wonder that perhaps, you've taken an unspoken interest towards the specific necklace from before.

Maybe he'll get it for you sometime soon without you knowing it. The mere idea itself is already too thrilling for him, silently imagining your reaction once you realize that he, in fact, noticed your specific line of stare, and actually bought you the exact necklace.

AS THE MINUTES passed by, the walk between the both of you has been enjoyable so far. Kenji could've easily brought his bike along— which he did, but intentionally parked it quite far so that he could enjoy your mere presence alone for more. He would rather do this, so he could just keep his gaze upon you whenever you're not looking or so. You relished your personal time with him too, not minding the fact that the two of you didn't really have any specific places in mind.

But he wondered if you even notice that it's getting quite harder for him. Knowing full well that you're beside him right at this point, he could've just pushed you against the wall and kissed you senselessly without a care— but that might ruin the moment.

So instead, he gradually leads you to somewhere within the park, which the atmosphere is quite pleasant due to the current hour. The visible, warm orange glow was being casted down upon your features; hitting in some angles so fittingly perfect, much to his contentment since he's the only one who could witness this sight of you— albeit only daring to speak to himself about it mentally.

"Where are you taking me?" You couldn't resist from giggling as he, almost too enthusiastically, guide you along with him as if he had a specific place in mind, which he really does.

"You'll find out soon."

"I'm sure you'll love it, trust me." There's even a hint of a smile within his warm tone, and no traces of qualm are present as the words are being spoken.

The two of you eventually took a stop at this one rather secluded spot from the rest— people rarely went to this exact area, which is a damn shame since it offers an absolutely breathtaking view of the vast, clear blue lake, and one of the large bridges situated directly across from it; the sun can be seen starting to set just somewhere around the enormous gaps of the bridge.

You were speechless for a while there; the view is simply too stunning. Noting your expression, Kenji smiles fondly and tugs on your hand gently— pulling you closer to his side.

He knows you too well, you fear.

"Ken, this place, I.."

"It's so beautiful." Those words are the only ones that managed to be elicited out from your lips, understandably so. You would've asked him about how he found the spot, but you didn't.

"I know." Ever so tender with his actions, he lifts one of your hands up to his lips, before brushing it onto your knuckles lovingly— then planting small, gentle kisses into the palm of your hand after, while the smile never leaves his face.

"I knew you would love this place. I keep forgetting to take you here when I found out about this exact spot too."

But why is it so damn hard to tell you those three simple words, especially in a moment like this?

"Ken, thank you so much.."

You gently press your palm against his chest— at where his heart is, presently beating a bit more rapidly than before because of your mere presence and simple actions.

"Today's one of the best days of my life." The spoken statement alone drips with pure honesty, which made him grin so adoringly upon your words even more, knowing that at this moment, he truly won in life.

Not saying anything just yet, Kenji simply encircles his arms around your form, hugging you so closely— allowing his hand to caress the back of your hair tenderly; all while inhaling your scent deeply, as if wanting to memorize every single detail of it.

"I'm glad," he begins to speak in a breathy tone against your hair. "I'm so, so glad. Knowing that you're happy makes everything worth it."

You giggled cordially, nuzzling into his chest as the feeling of giddiness starting to build up within you even further. It's too much to take in— yet it's never enough.

Both of you needed more.

He places a delicate kiss on the crown of your head, letting his fingers carding through your strands of hair. The feeling is too addicting, and it seems he couldn't stop just yet. It's so frustratingly good; the sensation itself is quite overwhelming in so many ways.

It doesn't take long for him to gently push you away backwards after, taking his sweet time to gaze into your eyes while resting his forehead against your own, to which you returned the gesture without any signs of reluctance. Maybe this will be it. It's driving you both crazy, and he knew it damn well.

"Is this.." You breathed out, trying to remain composed underneath his fixed gaze. "Is this the part where we..?"

"Maybe. If that's what you want, then.." Kenji murmured almost instantly, voice lowering in an octave fairly on its' own— caressing your cheeks, then tracing his fingers down your jawline while his eyes never left yours, gradually leaning closer as if wanting to test the waters.

"Do you want this, sweetheart..?"

"What if I said I do..?"

Oh, it's driving him internally wild. Your eyes are half-lidded, ready to receive his next actions without any needed protests.

That's when the bond between the two of you as friends falls away, altering into something more memorable; none shying away from the other and simply accepting the way it is with such ease.

The visible line between the both of you shattered without any restraint by now, permitting everything to happen just following by the natural existing flow, unafraid of anything anymore— nothing to be hidden as everything has become more evident.

When seconds have passed and desperately needed air, he reluctantly broke the kiss first; eyes fluttering open to stare at you once more. God, he allows the sight of you alone to be engraved within his mind at this moment— all flustered and panting slightly, recollecting yourself from the previous session.

Kenji got an irresistible urge to kiss you again, but he knew that you both needed to finally go and grab dinner first since the sky has darkened itself without realizing it before.

"We should— we should go. Y'know, grab some dinner. You must be starving."

You stifled your own laughter at his seemingly flustered expression, nodding along his words in agreement. It's just adorable, knowing that THE Kenji Sato himself is feeling and genuinely acting this way because of you.

"Well, I suppose I couldn't refuse that."

Kenji would like to relish within the idea that everything continues further on just like this, right here. Nothing else, nothing major will happen.

Maybe he should've gotten you the necklace that you were eyeing earlier, and help you with putting it around your neck himself. You'd look so gorgeous, he knows it. Kenji knows it.

{ ✰ tags : @mochminnie, @aishallnotbefound, @scarasw1f3, @bakugouswaif. }

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[anxi-aashi]

SJCKEBCEJGNF I LOVE YOUR WRITING BABES! Honestly your pirate series and giving childe a bj was hot omg- Can I request like Husband! Childe x Wife! Reader? Like childe wants a another kid or smth even thought they have so many XD and just you know breeding reader or smth- Ajfjehfjrjff anyways you're amazing!!!!! love you :>>>> <33333

a/n: TYSM this took me absolutely way too long to finish BUT im officially on spring break now so hopefully I'll be able to write some more again!

cw: breeding (with intent), praise, fem!reader, fingering, kids (derogatory), not proofread, lmk if I forgot anything!

At last, your crotch goblins were asleep.

It felt like years had passed just trying to get them to settle down after dinner, much less convince them to get into bed; your youngest spent about fifteen minutes arguing with his dad in the bathroom before finally brushing his teeth.

And yet, as you and your husband wandered past the doorways of all five of your kids, watching them sleep without a care in the world, you felt a sort of contentness fill your chest knowing you’d probably have to do it all over again the next night.

While watching your third shift in her sleep, drooling, Childe joined you, resting his head atop yours and rubbing a palm on your arm soothingly. “Phew! That took forever,” he remarked in a whisper.

You snickered along with him and turned to meet his eyes. “You’re pooped, too? Thought you were all about the thrill of danger.”

He snorted softly. “Right, nothing more dangerous than five gremlins who napped a little too long after lunch.” His gaze slipped to your third behind you, now passed out flat on her stomach, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Let’s follow their lead tonight, hm?”

With that, he led you to the room you both shared. The two of you went about your nightly routines in comfortable silence, you brushing your teeth while Childe picked out something for the two of you to watch together before bed. Or at least, you thought he was.

Childe was not doing that. Instead, he watched you, his wife. Wife. It still hit him every now and then that you were his, no matter how long you two had been married. What did you see in him that made you say yes when he proposed? When he first asked you out? He’d probably never know.

He knew what he saw in you, though. And somewhere in that long list of qualities (that he had written on his phone), was your pussy.

The same pussy that birthed his five kids. The same one that got so wet every time he whispered something filthy in your ear. That hugged his dick so perfectly.

Fuck, he was hard. And you were none the wiser, simply rinsing the toothpaste from your mouth like normal. 

Childe’s eyes trailed down to your ass as you bent over the sink. Down your legs, up to your stomach covered with the fabric from your fitted tank top. He pictured it— remembered it— stretched out and swollen, round with his kid growing inside. You had looked so good pregnant. Every time. 

And suddenly, he really wanted to see you pregnant again. 

Hands snaked around your waist as you washed your face, drawing your attention to the mirror in front of you. “Hm, what’s up?” you asked his reflection.

Childe remained silent, opting to take his time feeling you up instead. His hands idly roamed around your stomach, grazing the sides of your breasts, leaving tingles of goosebumps in their wake, until finally landing on your hips and pulling you flush against him.

A squeak of surprise escaped you, a question close behind, but the motives behind his behavior became clear when you noticed his hard-on nestled snugly between your ass cheeks. “Ajax! You can’t wait five minutes for me to finish here?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he mused, ignoring your protest.

You bent over to rinse the soap from your face. “‘A while?’ Did you already forget how you practically jumped me the other day after the kids went to school?”

“I mean since we had one.”

You paused at his clarification, standing up straight to meet his eyes through the mirror. 

He had that look in his eye— one you had seen many times before. Five times, to be exact. Childe smoothed his hands over your hips, the pressure combined with the dull throbbing of his cock against your ass making you dizzy. “You always look so beautiful carrying my baby. Let me give you another one?” 

You forced yourself to think around the growing arousal simmering in your blood. “You want another baby or you just want to get me knocked up again? Pretty important difference, there.”

His grin was devious as one of his hands migrated to slide into your panties. “I think six is a much better number than five, don’t you think?” A finger grazed your slick folds. Childe’s grin only grew wider. “Kinda feels like you agree with me.”

You tilted your head to lean against his shoulder, relishing in the sensations of his fingers teasing your sex. “Please,” you breathed.

That was all he needed to hear. Ever the gentleman, your husband transported you swiftly to the bed, wasting no time pulling your sleep shorts and underwear down your legs while you rid yourself of your top. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair to pull his face to yours, lips meeting in a messy kiss. 

Childe ground his hips into yours, sending waves of heat pulsing through your limbs and encouraging more slick to seep from your cunt. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy as impatience and need had you panting rather than meeting his lips. You were hot, so hot, desperate for any sort of attention that would soothe the steady ache building in your core, that when he finally dipped a finger into your drooling cunt, a loud moan ripped from your throat.

A hand slapped over your mouth, muffling any further sounds you made. Childe panted down at you, panic and lust etched into his face. “Shh, baby,” he whispered, “Don’t want to wake the little ones up, do we?”

You shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to keep fingering you.

“Good girl.” His finger slowly pulled out of you, only to sink back in up to the knuckle; again, again— another finger joined— again, again, until the steady pace he set had your pussy singing his praises in lewd squelches. 

Grateful as you were for the stimulation, it wasn’t enough. You brought up a hand on top of his that covered your mouth, lifting it up just enough to gasp, “Please, please, want you inside me, wan’ you to fill me up.”

The dark chuckle Childe let out was almost patronizing. “Aw, my fingers aren’t enough for you? So impatient tonight,” he cooed, curling his fingers up to tease your g-spot before pulling them out. 

“Don't worry, I’ll fill you up soon.”

And soon came faster than you expected. This time, you’re thankful that Childe’s hand was still so close to your mouth, otherwise the whine that you let out would’ve had you answering some very concerned questions from your kids. His cock sunk into you with ease and without warning, and you were suddenly reminded of how whole you felt when he gave you the piece you were missing. A shudder rippled through your body as he rolled his hips into yours, rutting with a need that you could tell was out of his control. 

But just as it was starting to feel good, he paused, moving his hands to grip the back of your thighs to fold you into a mating press before you could complain at the loss of movement.

With your cunt bared open to him in the new position, the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with ease, grazing by the gummy spot hidden within your walls with every pass. Childe hissed in a breath when he felt you squeeze around him, hips stuttering into a steady pace that gave you no room to breathe. 

The room was getting hot. Or maybe that was you? Childe always did have the nasty habit of fucking you out of your head, and now that he had a purpose in mind, you had a feeling you were going to be walking a little funny the next day.

Every slam of his cock sent your knees knocking into the mattress beside your head. Every slap of his balls against your ass as he filled you to the hilt with every thrust had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Every filthy thing your husband uttered without shame triggered another wave of slick to coat his cock, making it all the more easy for him to fuck you however he wanted. 

“Can’t wait to get you pregnant again,” he panted. “I hope it's a girl— your tits always look so— hah— so much bigger with a girl.” The bed was creaking. “We’re gonna get it right on the first try, ‘kay? Not wasting time with a negative test. ‘M just gonna have to fill you enough tonight so that it takes. And you—” A hand of his left your thigh to swipe vigorously over your swollen clit. Your back arched, mouth dropping open with a whine. “--- You, are gonna cum as many times as you want. Got it, sweetheart?”

“A-jax,” you whimpered. “I— gonna—”

“Ohh, already?” he crooned. “Go ahead, cum on my cock. Want you to feel good while I knock you up.”

Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, the coil in your stomach snapping. This time it was you who covered your mouth the block the gutteral moan that threatened to make itself heard. The walls of your pussy clamped down on Childe, a small squeak accompanying the juices that spurted around his dick as he worked you through your high. 

“Fuuuck, yes, just like that. So good, mmmh.” A bright flush glowed from under his pale skin, covering his face and sweat-soaked chest. His thumb stopped its assault on your clit to catch a dribble of your cum that slid down your ass. 

You were almost a little disappointed when he didn’t offer it to you for a taste, but the sight of him licking it clean was more than enough to make it up. And enough of a distraction from the steadily building overstimulation of Childe’s cock still, albeit slowly, rocking into you. 

A tear slid down your cheek, prompting Childe to lean over you to lick it up as well. He propped himself up by your head, his tongue dragged lightly across your cheekbone, then followed up with a multitude of kisses around your face. He finally reached your lips, rewarding you with a languid kiss, rimmed with the tang you recognized from your cum. 

Against your lips, Childe continued to mumble praises in between sloppy kisses, each sentence egging him on to chase his release. “You taste so good.” His warm breath graced your mouth as he spoke. He was too close, too warm, you were too warm, the heat radiating off the both of you so palpable you swear you could touch it. And it was his fault. “I wish you could see yourself right now. So fucking beautiful. Mother of my kids.” A hand of his drifted down to palm your tummy, pressing down until you could both feel his dick rearranging your guts beneath your skin. “Feel me here? That’s where I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so much it’ll be dripping out of you and I’ll just have to fuck it back in.”

You yelped as he buried his head into the crook of your neck to better focus on drilling his cock into your g-spot. “Ajax!”

“Fuck, yes, say my name. Say my name. Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours, Ajax, it’s yours! ‘S your pussy— please cum, please, please,” you sobbed. 

“‘M almost there, almost— ” he cut himself off with a groan. His thrusts turned sloppy, steady pounding shifting to erratic jackhammering before his hips stuttered, and he pushed himself to the hilt again before spilling his load into you. 

You sighed in bliss, basking in the warmth settled in your belly. As Childe caught his breath, he picked his head up to look at you quizzically. 

“You didn’t cum again.”

You shook your head with a raspy laugh. “It's ok.”

Inside your cunt, you felt his cock twitch. He arched an eyebrow at you. “You’re right, it is. You’ll cum again soon anyways.” Childe slid out of you, making you whine at the loss before wrapping an arm around your waist and carrying you with him as he sat up, plopping you in his lap. 

“Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

[starr666]

Cw: submissive!idia shroud x fem!dom!camgirl, whip usage, slight embarrassment kink?,

Minors dni

By scrolling past the line below, you are consenting to seeing nsfw content

————————————————-

Fem dom cam girl reader x Idia Shroud

He lost the bet— Idia Shroud, Gloomurai— the forever anxious, introverted, gamer boy, who’s only stroke of confidence comes from his smarts or his expertise in the world of gaming— had lost the bet to her. His best (and only) friend had beaten him at a new fighting game that came out, loser had to do whatever the winner says…and who knew that it would lead to his best friend having him laying on her luxurious bed with nothing but a cover over his shivering body and high quality cameras covering the different spots in the room, y’know, for perspective. While she stood at the edge of the bed, body adorned in black lingerie, royal blue bows accenting the corset-like middle, and fishnets her curves more defined than ever. She looked down at Idia with rope and a leather whip in one hand, gently swiping it across the other gloved hand and some rope tucked under her arm. An assortment of dildos that were compatible with her strap’s harness.

“A loser’s debt is quite deep, isn’t it, Gloomurai~? Now be a dear and wave to that camera for me, hm?”

The blue haired man attempted to further hide himself under the cover to hide the ends of his hair turning a bright pink, but as soon as his arm was up, she briskly made work of him with the rope, arms behind his back in a beautiful style. She pressed down onto his back and he immediately knew that meant for him to have his ass up for her and the cameras to see, and the next thing he feels is the whip making contact with his ass.

crack

“Since you dont know how to follow directions, you won’t be able to touch me through this whole process…now, go on, look at that camera riiight in front of you and tell them why you’re in this predicament.”

His head lifts to look at the camera that showed his face and he is already struggling to stop himself from drooling from the first hit

“I-I- l-lost tHe bet—” he stuttered out, his voice slightly cracking from the pressure

CRACK

“Louder, less stuttering.”

“A-ah~, yes ma’am— I lost the gaming bet to you.”

“And what does that mean for you?” her tone dropped, the words almost coming out in a hush but still loud enough for the microphones to pick up on

“That I…have to join your cam show for the day-“

“Good boy~.”her gloved fingers were already covered with lube and she wasted no time pressing her middle and ring finger into his ass, already meeting his prostate and feeling him clench in pleasure.

“Oh you poor thing, have you been anticipating such an opportunity with me? You’re already clenching around me~”

“Mm~N-no- ma’am.“

slap

“Are you sure? Because mistress doesn’t like liars” her other hand was wrapped around his throat, the statement was growled into his ear

“O-okay…m-maybe a little bit…”

another slap to his ass was made and he let out a screechy moan

“Cut the shit, you’re my biggest donor, aren’t you~”

his hair turned completely pink as he realized that she knew from the beginning…but he didn’t find much time to bask in such a thought after she added another two fingers, which were essentially sucked in by his needy hole

“Tsk…tsk…tsk, what a pathetic slut. Might as well make it worth your while, top donor~”

He tried to keep it quiet but the microphones still picked up on his gulp and whine that followed shortly after he no longer felt the fingers in his ass. Before he gets the chance to ask what happened, he groans as he feels a sudden fullness take over him

“Ohmygoditssofuckingbig” he whispered under his breath

“Oh…you think that’s big darling? This is just from my starter pack…I’m going to fuck you until you can truly call me your top donor~”

A/N: hehehe, get it, like a top who is also a sperm donor-

[rom-e-o]

More modern Ebenezer/Constance!

These two are so delightfully awkward. <3

“Here you are, Mr. Scrooge,” she said politely. “One flat white. Oh, and here.”

She also handed him a small box, which she said was filled with pastries. It felt heavy and quite dense, requiring him to splay his fingers beneath the weight of the box to hold it.

“You work in an office, right?” Constance asked. “Please accept this. I hope you and the others enjoy them. Consider it a ‘thank you’ for your kind words.”

Without even looking inside to see what she was giving him, he could tell by the sweet, cinnamon-speckled aroma that the contents of the box likely came from the café’s bakery. “Oh, I couldn’t …”

“You must!” she insisted, her kind smile never faltering. “I’m sure there are some people in your office who skipped breakfast. It’s better to eat a pastry than nothing at all, I think.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to deter the woman, and because he knew his coworkers would likely appreciate the baked goods in lieu of their coffee machine being broken, he surrendered with a thankful smile. “Well, that is exceptionally kind of you. I see the stereotype of American generosity is alive and well.”

It was her turn to stammer, and he watched in intrigue as she tucked a spiral of red hair behind one of her ears.

“Well, it was inspired by your kindness, sir,” Constance said. She bowed to him, her strawberry-blonde curls dropping over her shoulders as she did so. “Thank you again for being so sweet to me.”

With his hands now full, the woman followed Ebenezer to the door to hold it for him and make sure he got out safely. As he began his walk back down the sidewalk and toward his practice’s building, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw Constance standing in the doorway and waving to him.

The chilly, concrete streets of London’s financial district were a backdrop that only served to make everything about her form stand out more. From her coppery hair to her red corseted top to her, and even down to the glow of her tanned skin and smattering of freckles, everything about her radiated warmth. The juxtaposition was stark, like seeing a star glittering against a night sky.

He walked back to his office in a daze, barely noticing when he was thanked by the building’s other inhabitants for putting the pastries in one of the large communal kitchens.

When he made it back to his desk, coffee still in hand, Bob cast him a curious look from his station as he passed.

“You’re back!” he enthused. “Ah, looks like your trip was a success. The coffee smells good.”

“Hm?” Scrooge said, then broke out of his daydream with a laugh. “Oh! Yes, quite. It’s lovely.”

“Lovely?” the man asked, a brow lofting in amusement at the peculiar choice in adjective to describe a beverage. “Well, that’s quite a positive review!”

“Yes,” he parroted again. “It was certainly worth the trip out. Thank you for the recommendation.”

Taking a sip, the quality of the coffee was … quite good. It was a nicely brewed medium roast coffee with the proper amount of milk added. There was a touch of sweetness as well, which was far from unwelcome for a man who preferred to take his black tea with at least one lump of the granulated stuff. It was certainly better quality than what he would have gotten from the automated machine down in the lobby, and that was what mattered most, he supposed. Plus, he’d supported a local business, an initiative that had become much more near and dear to his heart in the past year.

Yet, as he sank into his seat and took another warm sip, he found it harder to descend back into the rhythm of work. Even as calls came in or meetings called him away, his caffeine-fueled brain kept drifting back to the brick coffee house a few blocks away.

The thoughts posed such an effective distraction that he never stopped to think why that could be.

For the next few weeks, Ebenezer found himself visiting New Grounds Coffee Co. every day on his morning walk into the office.

The first experience had been so pleasant after all that he felt obliged to support the business. Also, there was the small matter of thanking Constance for her kindness.

That next morning, he walked into the coffeehouse not knowing what to expect. Would she even be working? He hadn’t paid it much thought, but when he saw her smile and wave at him from behind the counter, the suddenly found himself with a spring in his step.

“Good morning, Mr. Scrooge!” she greeted positively, her voice as chipper as ever. He nodded in mutual greeting, unable to resist returning a matching smile.

He saw some of the other customers and workers wince at her loud American cadence, but he hardly minded. She was happy to see him, after all.

“I’m quite impressed,” Ebenezer said as he stepped up to the counter, his gloved hands coming together to rest at his waist, “You remembered my name.”

She nodded; a gesture more confident than boastful.

“Well, I don’t often forget a face. Especially one of someone who was such a hero to me.”

Her sweet words inspired a rush of awe, but his brow furrowed in concern. “Now, surely what I did was nothing heroic. That man from yesterday was being shrill, and someone would have put him in his place eventually.”

A noncommittal hum answered his speculation. He noticed she didn’t look convinced, and suddenly felt self-conscious about not simply accepting the kind comment she’d given him. However, before he could reply, she added, “Well, you were the one who actually stopped him, so you were my hero for the rest of the day.”

For the first time in many years, a woman had made him blush. Although he was only 50 years of age, it had been a while since another person had complimented him well enough to make him go red in the face. Whether it was her sincerity, her cheerfulness, or her bright smile … he wasn’t sure, but the effect on his heart spoke for itself loudly against his ribcage.

“I-I’m happy to see you, Miss Constance,” he clumsily segued, hoping to distract from his embarrassment and carry on their conversation. “I wanted to thank you for yesterday.”

She cocked her head. “Thank me?”

“My coworkers did appreciate the pastries. I heard a lot of positive feedback, so hopefully you’ll have some more clients coming your way soon.”

“Oh, wonderful! I’m so glad to hear that!” she enthused. He heard the heels of her tall shoes click as she bounced behind the counter. Goodness, the woman was more excitable than some puppies he’d met.

It was ... cute.

[cavalierious-whim]

Childe begs Zhongli to kiss him which leads to the inevitable.

This fic is inspired by this art by Jieverysus. You can also read here on AO3 for better quality. If you enjoy my content, be sure to follow me on Twitter as well, and consider supporting me on Patreon!

When Childe climbs into his lap, Zhongli immediately grins.

“Oh? What are you thinking, hm?” he asks, the edges of his tone lilting as he already leans forward. 

“As if you don’t know, you old lizard.” Childe chuckles, wrapping an arm around Zhongli’s neck. “Besides, you’re in bed naked. You expected this.”

They meet in the middle with a sweet kiss. Childe is still damp from the bath, the backs and insides of his thighs slick as he settles against Zhongli. 

Zhongli’s hands are warm against his waist as they splay over his skin. He hums against Childe’s mouth, his tongue teasing his lips. Nothing passionate, but rather, playful. “Can you blame me?” His breath is warm as it fans Childe’s face. Zhongli smells like the earth and his sandalwood soap, having washed earlier. “I know you like the sand knows the tide. You’re always so eager, so needy for me.”

Childe huffs at the accusation. Zhongli is the one with a possessive touch, the palm of his hand always pressed against Childe’s back. Never more than a few feet away if he can help it. Staring—always staring—that golden-eyed gaze warm and fond as it pierces across the room.

“I think that you are the needy one,” says Childe casually, pulling back to give him a grin. He drags his hand down the length of Zhongli’s neck, tracing the muscles there, and then further along the line of his shoulder. Zhongli’s skin is already charcoal black at the joint and Childe snorts, digging his thumb in.

“Hey.” Zhongli doesn’t dispute the accusation. He leans into it catching Childe’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “What are you in the mood for?”

Zhongli would give him the world if Childe asked for it. He’s tired and sore from leaning over paperwork at the bank all day. Zhongli is endlessly patient as he just watches him back with a sappy, lopsided grin spread across his face. 

Something slow. Sweet. Childe thinks that tonight, he wants to take their time. He wants to be pulled apart and put back together by Zhongli’s expert hands. Crafted, like the earth, rebuilt from his love and remolded anew.

Childe dips close and kisses him again, slow and searching. Zhongli gets the hint, moaning softly as his mouth parts. “Alright,” he murmurs against Childe’s lips. “Yes, yes, alright. I understand.”

It is lazy. Lopsided and sweet, the way that they just kiss and kiss. Zhongli’s hands drag over the length of Childe’s body, digging into the muscle to worry at knots. No claws, just the blunt tips of his nails that raise gooseflesh as they glide over Childe’s form.

Hands wander. Childe’s dick perks with interest at the slow grind of their hips—to which Zhongli eagerly responds. His hands curl around to squeeze at his ass. He pulls Childe down into him, rolling their bodies together, cocks sliding against each other as they slowly fill out. 

Childe sighs, sinking into the heat of it. Zhongli kisses his cheek and his jawbone. He nips at the juncture of his ear and neck. “Zhongli—”

His tongue is as devilish as ever. Childe moans as Zhongli laps at his skin, licking down the length of his neck as he tastes it. When Zhongli pulls back, he grins, nothing but fangs. 

“Oral fixation, hm?” teases Childe, reaching out to cup Zhongli’s cheek. When he smooths his thumb over Zhongli’s bottom lip, Zhongli nips at it. His tongue lolls out playfully, its texture rough and the tip forked as it licks over the pad. 

“You taste divine.” Zhongli presses his face back into Childe’s nape. He purrs, his chest rumbling as his eyes slip closed and he just nuzzles Childe’s skin. He inhales deeply. He bites at Childe, sucking a mark into his skin that’ll be the embarrassment of the office. But, but—Childe doesn’t stop him, and that makes Zhongli smile against his neck, pecking a soft kiss there before moving south. Kisses fan his collarbone. Down Childe’s sternum as Zhongli angles him back for better access. Then, the sweep of his tongue as it swirls around Childe’s nipple.

 “Wait—”

Zhongli is relentless as his mouth latches on and sucks. His teeth dig in, just ever so slightly, the prick of his fangs enough to flood Childe’s core with desire. His tongue strokes the stiffening bud as he laps at it. 

“Xiansheng—” And oh, it’s rare for Childe to call Zhongli that nowadays, but his brain is hazy and his cock aches from where it’s at full attention between them. “Why there? Why only—oh gods—”

Just when Childe leans into it, Zhongil pulls away, smirking. That curl of his mouth. He looks so pleased with himself. “Ajax—”

“You and that damned tongue.”

“Surely you aren’t complaining? Think of all the times I’ve brought you to the edge with it.”

“No, that’s—” 

Zhongli kisses his other nipple. Then, he sucks, pulling at it with his teeth, soothing the bite with his tongue only seconds later. Zhongli moans, his breath damp against him. Childe’s hands sink into his hand and he tugs. “Zhongli, don’t just—”

“Don’t just what?”

Childe keens with another lick against his nipple. His cock twitches, leaking all over Zhongli’s stomach. Zhongli nibbles at him, teeth digging into the stiff peak until it’s pebbled and hard. His tongue swirls around it before sucking again, and Childe lets out a pathetic whine. 

“I want you to kiss me too,” he finally blurts. “Zhongli, I want—”

When Childe looks, Zhongli is watching him back with a wide-eyed gaze. Zhongli’s bottom lip trembles slightly, and he says, “Ah, I didn’t mean to—” Zhongli closes the distance in seconds. “Of course, darling,” he finishes in a quiet murmur. 

Tongues tangle as Zhongli kisses him with feverish intent. He moans into Childe’s mouth and plunders it, leaving no crevice unturned. They’re slotted together perfectly. Their cocks, both hard and aching, brush against each other. Zhongli tips Childe’s head back, angling it just so as to deepen the kiss. He swallows every sound, every moan that drips from the back of Childe’s throat. 

When they part, Zhongli’s lips are kiss-swollen. “Baobei,” he croons, smoothing his thumb over the rise of Childe’s cheekbone to wipe at the wetness underneath his eyes. Childe leans into it. “Don’t cry.”

“I didn’t—” Childe didn’t realize or mean to. “I’m not—”

“How do you want me to take care of you?”

“Like this,” says Childe, curling in close, wrapping his arms around Zhongli’s neck, and plastering their chests together. Like this, he can feel the steady beat of Zhongli’s heart against his breastbone. He can drown in Zhongli’s scent and the warmth of his skin. 

Childe’s hand drops between them. His fingers, slick with Hydro, settle around their cocks, pressing them together in a tight grip. He fucks into the hold, his cock grinding against Zhongli’s in a slick glide.  

A choked-off, surprised moan tumbles from Zhongli’s lips. He watches Childe with a half-lidded gaze, then that gaze turns down to where he holds their dicks together. “Gods,” he hisses as Childe squeezes the both of them tighter. Zhongli’s cock twitches against his, wet at the tip, smearing Childe’s palm. Zhongli bucks, whining softly, fingers digging into the soft meat of Childe’s asscheeks as he encourages more.

They frot like that, seeking out friction against each other in the slick grip of Childe’s palm. Zhongli refuses to let go of him. He kisses every inch, every freckle and scar he can find. His breath is warm, but his moans are more so, and he bullies Childe’s throat with his teeth, lost in the haze of his pleasure. 

Zhongli’s fingers sweep down to press between Childe’s asscheeks, ghosting his hole. Childe shudders at the touch. His hips just falter as he fucks his fist with staggering movements. “Zhongli—” he starts.

“What’s this?” Zhongli’s finger sinks right into his hole, already slick with oil.

Childe hides his face in Zhongli’s neck, red-faced and embarrassed. “I—” Well, he’d known—he’d known. Zhongli is always quick to action when Childe climbs into his lap, and before he’d imagined something a little more feral.

“I thought you wanted to take this slow, hm?” Zhongli is teasing him.

Earlier, he saw Zhongli’s affectionate gaze and felt his sweeping hands, and Childe’s wants and needs flipped right upside down. “I do, but—”

“So needy.” That same tease. Zhongli chuckles into his neck and kisses the sharp jut of his collarbone. “So eager for me.” He presses a second finger into him and spreads them wide, testing the give of Childe’s loosened hole. 

“Oh, oh—” And then a third wriggles inside to fill Childe up. Childe cries out, his nails digging into the soft flesh at the top of Zhongli’s spine. “Fuck, mhmn—”

Zhongli fucks him with his fingers lazily, pressing deep and curling them just so. Childe goes taught, his thighs tense. “There we are,” says Zhongli, his voice dripping with sweetness, a contradiction to the way that he presses his fingers firmly into Childe’s prostate. 

“Please.”

“I want you to come on my fingers first.”

“No, no—”

“Yes.” Zhongli tilts his face back to him with his spare hand for another kiss. This time it’s sloppy. Messy as they lick into each other’s mouths and try to move against each other. Childe’s hand is still tight around their cocks, and he thrusts into Zhongli’s cock with aborted thrusts. Zhongli’s fingers rut in and out, Childe’s hole parting around them easily. “Come on, darling, you can do it. On my fingers first, and then again, on my cock.”

The sounds of Zhongli’s fingers fucking into him is obscene. Oil dribbles down between Childe’s thighs, dripping from where they’re connected. Zhongli’s fingers slow, smoothing over that bundle of nerves inside, stroking it incessantly. Childe’s thighs clamp tight around Zhongli’s lap as heat spreads through his gut. He jerks their cocks together, watching the way they lay together in his palm, red-tipped and wet. 

“Zhongli, I’m—”

Childe is close and Zhongli knows it. He bullies his prostate, pulling Childe to the edge. Arousal chokes him. With every press of Zhongli’s fingers, he slips further and further until his pleasure crests, crashing into him like a wave. Childe clamps down as he comes, his ass tightening. He spends himself all over his hand and Zhongli’s stomach, making a mess. 

Zhongli doesn’t care. He persists in fucking him with his fingers until Childe’s pulled tight and on a hair trigger. “Zhongli, Zhongli—”

“So good for me,” he says. “Gods, you’re always so perfect.” Zhongli pulls his fingers free and shifts Childe in his lap, dragging his hips up and forward until his cock is flush with Childe’s ass. 

Childe writhes in his lap. Tears leak from his eyes in his overstimulation, and he shudders when Zhongli smooths his hands over his round asscheeks. 

“Alright, baobei. Are you ready?” he asks, lining up his cock. Zhongli is patient. He waits, kissing Childe’s temple, just pressing the tip of his dick to Childe’s fluttering hole. “I need to hear you say it, darling.”

Childe nods. “Yes, please, please.” 

That is all Zhongli needs. His cock slips in and Childe moves, sinking down the entire length in one fell swoop. It is Zhongli who hisses. He grips Childe tight by the waist to still him, but Childe won’t have that. “Zhongli,” he mutters, raising his hips, knees digging into the bed for better leverage.

“Ajax—”

“Let me,” cuts in Childe. He lifts until only the tip of Zhongli’s cock is left and then he slams back down. 

Zhongli yelps, nostrils flaring. His eyes pinched closed and sweat beads along his brow. “Ajax, you—gods.” Zhongli moans, his voice caught. He adjusts his grip and helps Childe move, guiding the roll of his hips as he rides him. 

Childe is thankful for it. He’s a keening, loose-limbed, and shaking mess. He babbles Zhongli’s name and clings to him, melting against his chest as he rises and falls. Zhongli’s cock fills him so utterly full. Childe feels him in his belly and he knows if he looks, he’ll see the bulge. 

Zhongli guides Childe with a hand pressed to the small of his back. The other snakes into Childe’s hair, curling into the locks at the base of his neck. “So tight,” he whispers into his ear. “You feel, so, so good. Mmhm, yes, just like that. Keep on riding me, just like that.”

Childe is wet with sweat, oil, and come. His cock is hard again, bobbing between them with every movement. Zhongli meets each one, thrusting into his tight heat, moaning as he grinds deep. He kisses Childe’s forehead and then presses their brows together, and they stay like that as they move in tandem. 

“Another,” says Zhongli. “First my fingers, and now my cock.”

“I’m—”

“You can do it, I know you can.”

Childe can. He can, he can, he can. He’s drunk on his previous orgasm and stretched thin with overstimulation. Zhongli fucks into him, the tip of his cock nailing that perfect place every single time. Childe leans into him, their brows hot and shiny. He breathes in every praise that Zhongli gives him, their lips just barely ghosting. 

“I’m—”

Oh, he’s close. Childe speeds it, dropping his hips faster and taking Zhongli’s cock deeper. Zhongli clings to him, petting his hair, and giving him praise. Just like that—yes, yes—and other utterings of his name. 

Childe comes again, going taught, yanking at Zhongli’s hair so hard that Zhongli whimpers. But he doesn’t fight it, he just lets Childe do as he pleases, spilling himself for a second time. Zhongli’s thrusts turn scattered. Uneven. He breathes heavily, his nose pressed against Childe’s temple.

“Gods, I love you. Ajax, Ajax—” And it’s with that cry that he comes too, cock swelling and pulsing before painting Childe’s insides hot and sticky. 

Childe can feel the flood of it. Zhongli’s cock and come carve through him, settling deep in his gut. He whimpers, falling limp against Zhongli. Zhongli still moves, soft rolls of his hips as he rides out his orgasm. Childe just pulls at his hair and bites at his neck. He’s lost all strength to do anything else. 

Zhongli’s hand slips down to cradle his ass. His fingers find where they’re joined, smoothing over Childe’s puffy, slick rim, dragging over it. Still stretched wide around his cock. Zhongli just pets him there, soothing the sore muscle, humming into his ear as Childe leans on him. 

When he slips out, there is a rush of oil and come. “So much for your bath,” he says with a soft laugh, using a discarded shirt to wipe them down. “Come on, let’s go take another one.”

“No. ‘M tired—”

“Yes, Ajax. Come on.” 

Childe moves at Zhongli’s coaxing, and it’s a good choice. Zhongli sets the bath hot and when Childe slips in, all the tension that’s wound tight uncoils and dissipates. 

“There’s a good boy,” says Zhongli, settling in behind him, pulling Childe’s back into his chest. “Just soak. I’ll take care of everything else.”

His hands are like magic. They clean him gently with a soft-handed touch, unsuited for a man known for cutting through rough-hewn rock. Lingering. Sweet even, but not seductive. Zhongli knows precisely what to do and where to cut it short.

He still kisses Childe, and every scar and freckle he can find. Down his neck and along the line of his shoulder. The soft baby hairs at the top of his spine. 

Childe loses himself to the steam and hazy aftermath, to Zhongli’s pruned fingers, and the praise that he kisses right into his skin.

He’s unsure when he finds himself in bed but he moans softly when Zhongli tucks him into the sheets and his cheek hits the pillow. 

Zhongli slides in next and leans close. They share the pillow, nose-to-nose, brow-to-brow. “Better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” murmurs Childe. 

Zhongli is petting his hair again. He hums an old song as his fingers drag over Childe’s scalp. “Sleep in tomorrow.”

“I have work.”

“Not anymore. I’ll send a message to Katya. She’ll understand.”

She will but she won’t like it. But, at that moment, Childe doesn’t find it in him to care. He just laughs, light-hearted and airy. “Kiss me again?” he asks.

Zhongli smiles, wide and indescribable; that’s everything from fondness to affection, to love unfiltered. And then he dips close and slots their mouths together. 

This kiss is slow. Lazy. They explore each other with tongues and hands, legs tangled together in the sheets. There is no intention of anything other than these simple touches and how they lose themselves to the deep of the night.

[silkendandelion]

All This For A Coin (One-Shot), A One Piece fanfiction

Trafalgar Law x OC (male) Words: 2.7k Genre: Fluff, humor, tiny bit of sauce

Summary: Set almost 3 years after the events of Mirage In The Desert. River and Law seek out the Cross Guild to buy an important artifact, and Crocodile comes to meet them. The former lovers remember what they once had, while River reflects on the love of the present.

Rated Teen and Up Audiences for sexually suggestive content and language.

Cross-posted to ao3, here. Check out my ao3 of the same url for more fics. Likes and reblogs are always welcome. And as always, thanks for reading. Cheers to another fic done, cheers to self-indulgent fluff.

~*~

“Captain, 2 kilometers to land!” called Bepo from the control room, met by Law in the doorway in his navy blue, feathered coat.

The helmsman’s gaze scanned repeatedly over the sea. “...I guess the rumors are bogus, I don’t see Bananawani anywhere—AH!” They screeched from behind their mask when their observation screen darkened, blocked completely by a reptilian eyeball.

“Hold your fire! Be calm,” Law gritted out, standing firm despite the sweat on his forehead. He turned to the man that trailed behind him, draped in a cloak of peacock blue and green, his long hair pinned away to show off the jewels that hung from his ears. Even in the dim lighting of the control panel bulbs, his easy smile was brilliant, a sign for the Heart Pirates to be soothed.

Nearly 3 years ago, they had groaned and rolled their eyes at every appearance of the showy revolutionary, uncaring for how he spoke so casually to their captain, especially after saving his life in the aftermath of the battle for Marineford. Now, he knew all their names, knew which ones preferred hugs and which preferred handshakes. Were he anything less than a friend, they would have protested more to their Captain informing them they were traveling to meet the so-called Cross Guild.

The stacked heels of River’s boots clicked on the submarines metal floor as he went to place his palm on the warm glass. “We are expected. Crocodile said the wani would be fed prior to our arrival, and it appears he has kept his promise.”

“Preparing idle procedures, Captain. We can wait here as long as your business takes,” the helmsman informed him.

“Not as long as it takes those things to get hungry again, right?” Shachi said from the door.

“I don’t plan to be here any longer than absolutely necessary,” Law said, already on his way to disembark.

“Yes, leave the engine rubbing,” River said as he followed.

“Leave the engine what—” They raised their eyebrow behind their mask. “Hm. He almost got that one right. He’ll get the hang of the common language eventually.”

“At least he’s not saying, ‘Room, shingles’ anymore.” Bepo said, leaning in his chair and idly popping a snack into his mouth with a big paw.

“I miss that one, actually. Made the Captain smile.”

~*~

The Cross Guild’s temporary headquarters of operations was far removed from the luxury preferred by it’s founders, though the clown seemed to be determined to thrive under less-than-ideal circumstances. Damaged stone walls and drafty corridors, tattered tapestries and dark halls, all the qualities of a defunct and usurped former fortress, for all it’s wilting splendor, was still a fortress when packed with the new organization’s loyal mercenaries.

In the main hall and draped across a chipped stone throne, his segmented legs fidgeting with the singed carpet, sat a yawning Buggy, suddenly all too eager to address the pirate and revolutionary in his home.

“YOU two?! The insufferable Trafalgar Law, and—” He made an embarrassing grunt, no doubt remembering River from his Impel Down escape, and the indecent comments he made about his figure when he first mistook him for a woman. At least, until River yelled his refusal at the clown with what was decidedly not a woman’s voice. No, Buggy really wasn’t living that one down.

“How DARE you bring those legs—I mean your face in here before me! How did you get passed the wani? Didn’t that bastard Crocodile say those beasts would—” He clapped his mouth shut on a squeal when said bastard Crocodile appeared at his side.

“Are you treating our guests well, Buggy?”

The clown watched his own reflection swallow in the golden curve of Crocodile’s hook, watched it nod his acknowledgment.

“I called them.” Crocodile explained calmly. “Seems I’ve found an eager buyer for our cargo in one Trafalgar Law.”

“No shit?” Buggy looked to them both, all curious eyes as his limbs floated back to him.

“Be a good clown and show him to the store room.”

“Me?! I mean, why should I—”

Crocodile’s withering stare suffocated him appropriately into submission, and Buggy obediently slinked off down the hall with a wave for Law to follow.

“I’ll wait for you here, Law. It’s okay.” River smiled at him, though he could see it gave little comfort as his gaze darted suspiciously between him and the former warlord, once, then twice before he followed slowly down the path Buggy left.

Honestly, at least one of the two smart men should have assumed their reunion would be a little awkward, if not a little feisty, bloody maybe. Anything besides the cloistering silence.

“… I’ve been catching up on your publications since last we saw each other,” Crocodile broke the quiet first, ashing his cigar on the patched floor.

“Do you like them?” River leaned into his opinion, let his gloved hands fidget.

“Your prose was always a touch flowery for my tastes, but anyone who reads your work can tell how intelligent you are.”

“A high compliment, coming from Sir Crocodile.”

“There’s also talk about your unpublished adventures.”

He squared his shoulders, unsure whether he was about to be scolded or complimented again. With Crocodile, he never could tell.

“The pirate Trafalgar Law has lost his title as Warlord.”

“That’s common knowledge.”

“And has taken a lover, a showy mercenary with hair like a black flag and twin silver swords.”

River frowned that such a personal rumor had appeared about them. Not that River wasn’t used to his private life being flayed apart for the circus of the newspapers and Marine correspondence alike, but to inflict such poor taste upon Law’s reputation was unforgivable. “Is that what people are saying?”

“I paraphrase. You know how the masses chatter.”

“They’re right this time, even if it’s none of their business. I am in love with him, and he loves me.”

Crocodile sigh condensed between them in smoke, a familiar shroud. “Can you even trust him? He’s made an entire career out of playing both sides. Even for you, River, that is reckless. Did you learn nothing the first time?”

Did I teach you nothing?

“I trust him with my life.” River insisted.

You trusted me.

“Young men are fickle,” Crocodile argued, uncaring how flimsy the grievance sounded to both of them. He would not see River hurt, not by the same mistakes again.

“He had his reasons for everything he’s done,” replied River. “Good reasons. Both in and out of the veil of the world’s watch.”

“Does he satisfy you?”

River scoffed at the abrupt shift in subject, though incapable to not turn a little pink. “To be a true gentleman is to never tell, and to respect your competition.”

“Don’t quote your father to me, not when I’m asking if that brat has taken the time from his ambitions to care for you, the way you deserve.”

“The way you did?” His cheeks darken.

“… How I wanted to.”

Crocodile’s pause is unexpectedly genuine, sentimental, and River feels his face cool, if only to be replaced by a tingling up the back of his neck. “You’re different, Crocodile. And yet I would recognize you anywhere.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I…” He searches for words that would neither damn him nor give hope where there is none. “Look back on us fondly.”

“I’ll give you another moment to answer me truthfully.”

His skin prickles in goosebumps beneath the layers of his clothes, the looming darkness of Crocodile into his personal space is familiar—and warm. He’s close enough to kiss him if only he leaned into the vector of them, hurled himself towards a bliss not forgotten over years and other lovers.

“And does he trust you?” Crocodile rumbled between them, his voice reverberating inside River’s lungs and caressing along the curves of his ribs.

They were a storm once.

Lightning trapped in a bottle, pin-prickles of electricity racing over flushed skin and along sore tongues in hot mouths. Crocodile can recall with a cursedly perfect memory the sight of him, chest heaving and flushed with a new orgasm. He could still taste the humid tang of saltwater in the folds of his body.

As did River. With only his eyes closed, he could feel a wide palm on the length of him as if it was real, hear Crocodile rumble the sweetest promises into the space between his shoulder and ear while he pulls him apart by the ends of his threads. Look at you, my love. Perfect, and all for me.

They were almost married.

But in the present, and with all the warmth and fondness he still had for him, River finally answered his question.

“Completely.”

The smile that forms around Crocodile’s cigar is contented, pleased to see River is exactly as he remembers, perhaps better. “Good. I will accept nothing less.”

River huffs. “As if you would ever be asked to approve,” he says cheekily, with a swish of both his colorful coat and the hair that drapes over his shoulder.

“If I ever believed you were being mistreated: I would not ask your permission.”

Now that gives him pause. Beside him, Crocodile is as serious as he had ever been, falsely bristled and deadly calm, a threat to the distressing thought of his River abused.

His always, even when his no longer.

River smiles back with a gentle calm that disarms him, reassures him he is safe. “Thank you, Crocodile. I shall return the favor.”

“Tsk.” His teeth click around his cigar.

“What? You don’t think I can handle one clown and the world’s greatest swordsman? Well, I can certainly take the clown.”

“It was good to see you, River.” He tapped him ever so gently on the nose, just to see him grin. “Fair seas. I suppose clear skies mean nothing to a submarine.”

He’s still smiling when Law returns, just in time to see Crocodile vanish around a bend in the hall. To say the doctor is unimpressed would be irresponsible, nearly incorrect. River might describe him as all the usual emotions he acquired when Crocodile simply appeared in conversation, let alone in the flesh: miffed, vexed, agitated—pissed off.

“What did he say to you?” He began without a hello, his stance wide and stare fixed to the end of the empty hall.

“He said hello,” replied River, an answer Law hadn’t expected if the appearance of the wrinkle between his eyes was to be believed. It was, no matter how permanent the wrinkle was becoming.

“… Fine. He’s allowed that much, I guess.” He broke his gaze away to finally acknowledge River. Instantly, his eyes and heart softened. “I wont ever let him hurt you again. I promised.”

That’s what he said about you.

River’s answer, his gratitude, came as the gentle kiss he placed on his warm, suddenly pink cheek. Blushing, after all they’ve been through? The doctor continued to be the most endearing man he had ever met, capable of turning River’s heart to honey syrup despite all his jagged edges, his tongue sharp with sugar crystals. Melt him, and see how he shines.

“You have your prize then, mi lao?”

Law fumbled with the parcel in his coat pocket, hands clumsy at the Oasin phrase of affection he still wasn’t accustomed to hearing, especially not from the flashy revolutionary that had always, always flirted with him, flirted with countless people. Even when his insides were on the outside, his wounds leading him to Seth’s door in a breadbasket, when it was completely not appropriate to flirt, well, then there was River.

But he didn’t flirt anymore, no more than could be considered a jest, and Law struggled to accept he stood on the other side of that line alone. The only one who received River’s simpering affection now, the only one he gave those eyes to, the only one he allowed to touch him.

It made his fucking chest hurt.

“I got it.” He said, most articulately. “Look.”

He unwrapped the wrinkled newspaper to show off a rare-mint coin, void of dings and scratches despite the thick layer of tarnish that stained Law’s fingertips as he held it up to the light.

“That’s beautiful, Law,” River gasped, though he had exactly zero idea why the coin was rare or which historically significant event was stamped onto it’s opposite face. “How much did the clown ask?”

“Shh.” The doctor held up a stained finger, breaking into a mischievous smile as he grabbed River’s hand.

‘Crocodile! Hawkeye! Find him and kill him!’ They heard a furious Buggy screech from down the hall, vaguely muffled and thumping from the inside of what sounded like a locked treasure chest.

“Room.”

“Shingles? Yes, let’s go!” River cheered over Law’s “shambles”, and the pair blinked out of existence, reappearing inside the submarine control room with a flicker of muted blue light.

“Captain! What happened?” Bepo greeted them, at first gleefully, then shocked.

The crew hadn’t been expecting their Captain and River to return by Room, nor did they expect the sight of him smiling, still holding River’s hand and nearly doubled over with what could only be described as an honest, full-bellied laugh.

“Oh—shit.” He wiped the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. “Full speed, crew. Let’s get out of here.”

“Y-yes, Captain!” The navigator fumbled to punch buttons and pull levers in the appropriate sequence after such a lifetime event.

Law flicked the coin off his thumb, caught by his palm, and held up to the ceiling light. “How mad do you think Aurelio is going to be that we made him wait?”

“Tell him it was very important,” said River.

“I’ll tell him it was your idea.” Law smiled again when River clicked his teeth at him. “It’s a reasonable strategy.”

“You’re incorrigible. And I love you.”

Law dropped the coin to the floor with a clang and a mumbled “fuck”, only to find himself staring at the faces of his crew when he stood back up. Bepo, the masked helmsman, Penguin, Shachi and more all crowded in the doorway while they waited for him to make the appropriate response.

“… What?” His face was already redder the emergency lights with what he could assume they wanted.

‘Say it back.’ They all demanded of him.

“I—” His face darkened further, the hand without the coin attempting to pull his hat down as far as it would go. They were ALL getting painting duty for this. “I love you too. River.”

“You jerk.” Shachi teased him. “Was that so hard? How long do you expect someone to wait until you say it back?”

“I say it back!” Law barked, his blush refusing to dim. “Just not in front of you all! It’s private!”

River just chuckled beside him, met with Law’s accusatory finger. “You, be quiet.”

“WHOA now, Captain, be nice to River!” Shachi yelled too loud to not be on purpose, as targeted as the way he leaned out the doorway to make sure the entire sub heard him.

‘He’s not being mean to River, is he?’

‘We love you, Captain, but you have to be nice to River too!’

‘Yeah, we won’t stand for that!’ They all heard various shouts on either side from the echoing metal hallways of the submarine from the enthusiastically protective crew. Protective of all their friends, it seemed.

“You are ALL going on painting duty for this,” he growled.

“But we just painted the sub last week,” Penguin said dryly.

“Yeah well, you paint it when you’re bad!”

“We’re out of paint, Captain, can’t be done.” Shachi reminded him.

“BUY more paint!”

River smiled, unbelievably soothed by the bickering and love that overflowed on the Polar Tang. For all the years he’s spent traveling the ocean, searching for somewhere he loves as much as his home, he thinks this little pocket of air beneath the sea must be the place he wants to stay.

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 106 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence

Hearing the episode title I somehow already suspected this could be a space one...

Huh... The spinning of the tape breaks off there for a moment after Melanie's clap (1:21). I never noticed this. Probably always thought it was a brief loading error. Thought it now too at first, but I went back to check.

"More than large enough for the swell of humanity to grow, and ultimately extinguish itself." Hm, a touch of the Extinction there?

"and when I think of it too deeply, I feel like I’m going to throw up. Like a sort of existential vertigo." Yeah, I know this feeling. When I try to think of things which are incomprehensible for me I get this weird feeling and feel dizzy.

"I knew that if it chose to cry out, it would have destroyed me utterly." The Vast is the most cosmic of all horrors of the Entities. This literally sounds like an Old One.

"And I wish that I could convince myself that ignorance was the same thing as safety." Louder, for Jon in S1!

Although this is a statement with a lot of rambling and very little actually happening (and usually I simply cannot follow those kind of statements) I absolutely love this one. I'm not only afraid of heights and I hate falling (generally avoid rides with a drop at theme parks), the aspect of one's own insignificance compared to the sheer size of the universe really gets to me, but also fascinates me.

Nice to see that the rest of the archival team is actually helping Martin with the statements.

MELANIE: "Also, I um, I can’t find Jan Kilbride." Sounds like he has been swallowed up by the earth! *badum tss*

BASIRA: "Yeah, it’s, it is not cool down here." MELANIE: "Summer in the basement, I suppose." Is it really hot in some basements in the summer? Because mine is always cool. Very comfortable in summer, too cold in winter.

BASIRA: [ugh] "That boy needs to relax." MELANIE: "Or at least find someone else to fuss over!" BASIRA: "Yeah, he’s got it bad." This is top quality office gossip!

BASIRA: "Do you know if he and Jon ever…" MELANIE: "No clue, and not interested! Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t." BASIRA: "Like, at all?" MELANIE: "Yeah." First of all, Georgie randomly telling a mutual that Jon is ace, it that allowed? Second, Melanie randomly telling a mutual (and co-worker!) that Jon is ace... General opinion on the confirmation of an ace character: Yay!!! I don't really know what to think of confirmation happening by mentioning it in bonus material, a lot of people probably won't catch it that way, so having it in the main canon story is great! Then, yeah, it's kind of hard to reveal it when sex isn't really a topic in itself in the story. It comes up very rarely in statements, implied with Tim and towards the end with Georgie and Melanie. So how do you touch upon a topic that isn't really a topic? Have people talk about it and I think the gossip was a good way to handle that. The benefit of the gossip and especially the circumstance of who is telling it makes it vague to leave room for interpretations so people can put him anywhere on the spectrum. The vagueness of certain story points is doing a great service for fan content in my opinion. As someone who asked themself why I had not yet come across proper ace representation in fiction, hearing of poor little meow meow Jon being ace made me so happy!

BASIRA: "No way. I used to love that show. I mean, the first couple of seasons, at least. Took a weird turn in season three, when they introduced –" I heard this may be again a reference to The Black Tapes?? Yes, no, maybe?

ELIAS: "Whatever I’m planning needs to be stopped even if it cost a few lives. Including your own." That's very Gertrude-y of Melanie. Except for the part of risking her own life, that's very Slaughter-y.

Ben's voice acting is so on point!

When I heard Ivy Meadows I immediately knew, this is going to be bad. I remembered very well that this was the care home from MAG 36.

So that knowledge-insertion torture... THAT was the moment I finally decided "Holy shit... Elias really is evil!"

@a-mag-a-day

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Brain Empty, just Vega

Redacted Masterlist

1) Yes I am currently working on a ff about Cutie and Geordi, I swear. I just get random thoughts and need to throw them out there

2) Please i am on my hands and knees begging for more Vega/Warden content. I don’t have the energy to go searching for it but it needs to exist.

3) Does anyone have ideas about what Vega looks like and can I please see them?

4) Yes there’s more to this fucking list

5) Not actually this is the last one because my number OCD likes ending on multiples of five but I promise this one actually holds content. On today’s Vega brainrot, I introduce to you this situation (yes i’m going to put it in “x reader” fanfic format fight me):

Vega wrinkles his nose as he stares in the mirror hanging from your door. You don’t mind the look of disgust plastered on his expression. How could you? Not when he’s standing in your room wearing a high quality three piece suit. And tailored specifically to him? To die for. Although knowing him, you likely would for this transgression you’ve committed against him. 

“Is this your idea of being amusing?” He asks, his disdain evident in his voice. You hold back a laugh as you sit down on your bed, hands folded neatly in your lap. He turns around, eyes narrowed. Right... you forgot he could sense your emotions, therefore knew whether or not you wanted to laugh. You should probably remember that better.

“Hm... maybe just a bit? But you do look really good.” You answer, trying to keep a straight face for the sake of your survival. Unfortunately the sadistic piece of ass seems to have other ideas for you. He moved forward and you curse his otherworldliness for a heartbeat. This was why you should have just stuck to flirting with humans. Vega was sadistic and mean at times - scratch that, most of the time - but he was hot while doing it. Hence why you were still here.

“Whether or not you think I look good is none of my concern. After all, your opinions are irrelevant.” He muttered. You figured out another reason why he was hot. He was able to be rude without actually cursing you out. Although you’ve heard curses drip through your head as his head tilts back ever so slightly and his movements grow more rough. You can feel your face warm and see a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Yeah yeah. Just... go away.” You mutter, unable to take much more of this. He’s hardly done anything and yet here you are. It seems he has the same realization as you. Damn him.

“Aw. Poor little thing. Here I am, just stating my stance and you’re sitting there thirsting for me. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You really should be. It’s rather pathetic. Can’t say I’m surprised though.” He hums as he drifted two fingers down your arm. You look down to follow the movement and the next thing you know he has your chin tilted up to look at him. “Mm. Shame though. Farewell little thing.” He says, his tone evidently teasing. He doesn’t give you anytime to react before he’s rifted away and you’re left alone in the room. 

You exhale slowly and hold your face in your hands. Damn him.

[windwheeler-aster]

the secret ingredient...

summary: what it’s like to bake in the kitchen with your loving partner.

masterlist

pairings (separate): ayato, ganyu, gorou, and heizou x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader and characters mentioned are in an established relationship, and reader is not traveler

word count: 1,103 words (4 mins~)

genre: Modern AU, romance, fluff/domestic fluff

format: headcanons

warning: food mention (sugar, flour) 

a/n: tbh i don’t have much to say about these, i just wanted to write some headcanons💖 part two can be found here 💖

he loves baking with you

spending quality time with his darling partner and having some sweets after? perfect!

but he is so clueless at where to start

so he kinda just stands around in the kitchen, awkwardly🧍‍♂️

like, what is he supposed to do? 

no that’s a genuine question he’s never baked in his life—

of course he’s more than content to try to squeeze in some romance into your baking session

ayato giving you hugs from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you mix the dry ingredients together

may or may not try to sneak a kiss on your neck and jawline... and totally act innocent afterwards

however the moment isn’t as romantic as ayato makes it out to be

he is this 🤏 close to being kicked out of the kitchen for being too distracting

he smirks at your little half hearted threats, and he playfully jokes that it’s not his fault that he’s so handsome bitch i swe—

ayato spends most of the time just leaning on the counter, watching in awe as you follow the recipe word for word

he honestly just thinks you look so cute like this, and ayato desperately wishes you two could stay in this moment forever

and then you’ll notice him staring at you, and of course you think some flour got onto your face

ayato only sees it as the perfect opportunity to strike

“hm? there’s nothing on your face, my love. i was simply just... admiring you, that’s all. oh wait— actually, there seems to be some sugar on your lips, let me get that for you.”

she is the best person to bake with, hands down

ganyu has a lovely kitchen at your disposal, alongside some matching aprons for you two (they’re very cute please wear them when you bake)

she’s actually very mess prone, especially when she bakes, so please 🙏 remind her to wear her apron 

or else she’ll be mixing the dry and wet ingredients and accidently get some of it on herself

but the apron only stops the mess from getting on her front

she has mixed some of the wet stuff together, got it on her knuckles somehow, and wiped it on her face... somehow 🤨

she’s adorable, but you’re suspicious she’s just doing this on purpose now

ganyu will not notice the goop on her face unless you point it out or get it for her

but beware! she will blush a lovely cherry red if you kiss/lick it away hun, please do not lick the cocogoat

and she’ll still blush if you just use your hand or a cloth to wipe it

but, outside of making a mess on herself, ganyu is super!!! frigging!!! efficient!!!

you just finished putting all the wet ingredients into that bowl? she’s already stashed them back

you think you’re all done when it’s in the oven? sorry, ganyu is already doing a clean-up of the kitchen

ganyu is super sweet though, and doesn’t want you to lift a finger

she’ll only let you do the work if you forcibly sit her down and tell her to relax... begrudgingly

“oh! hun, why we going to the living room? you want to take ov— what? no, you’ve already done so much today— you’re... sure? okay. try not to burn it, alright honey?”

gorou loves sweets... and he also loves you (equally, he swears!)

so it only makes sense for him to bake with you, staying away from any chocolate-related recipes of course

and throughout the whole process, from pulling out the ingredients to putting them away, he’s so happy and excited

gorou’s ears are twitching and pointed towards you, whether he likes it or not

and, yes, his tail is absolutely wagging around excitedly whenever you two bake

yes, it has knocked over containers that were on the edge of the counter and made a mess

yes, he feels bad 😔 please forgive him

at some point, he did knock some flour off the counter 

and some of it got onto your face, because of course now was the time gorou’s aim was straight and true

you both just share a knowing look 

before you take a pinch of flour and flick it over in his direction

it only escalated from there, leaving most of the kitchen’s countertops covered in flour

oh, and you both look like you came out of a winter wonderland. great.

but he is smiling so much by the end of it, gorou’s tail still wagging like there is no tomorrow

even though you’re still covered in flour, he still peppers your face with kisses as cuteness aggression just takes over his system

and of course, he promises to clean it all up afterwards! really, he does!

but gorou just wants to keep holding onto you for now🥰

“sorry, honey, ‘guess i got carried away with it, huh? ha, no matter, we had fun right? and we’ll have some lovely cookies too... wait... are they still— crap! i think i just smelt smoke, hold on!”

he’s... he’s not the best baker

mostly because the amount of time and ingredients that heizou had was always limited

but hey, box mix for the win 👊

plus, he has his lovely, lovely, lovely, partner to help him read the instructions on the box!

or to make a recipe from scratch... that too

and while you’re doing everything, heizou loves to tease watch you

it’s honestly not his fault that you look so cute, as always, so can you really blame him? (spoiler: you cannot, it’s heizou c’mon)

while you’re busy whisking and beating the ingredients together, heizou leans on the counter with a goofy smile on his face

when you catch him, heizou is not ashamed to let you know how distractingly-cute you were being right now

but then you see the way he eyes the batter... the batter with raw egg in it, heizou. c’mon🤦‍♂️

don’t leave the bowl alone with heizou 

by the time you’re back, there’ll be some batter on his lips that he’s still licking away

however, there is one way to get him away from the raw egg! (heizou, beloved, this is for your own good i sw—)

if you give him a few kisses in exchange for whatever ingredients you need heizou to pass you, he’s distracted for sure

“alright, the flour and baking soda... and the sugar for my sugar. hey don’t roll your eyes at me! you know you like it when i’m cheesy, don’t lie. say, sweetheart, you don’t think i could lick the spoo— oh, right, the salt!”

taglist:

@x-zho  @definitelynotahutaosimp​

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

[secretwhumplair]

Weaving

780 words | No Warrior (right before Warmth)

Content | Low self-esteem, reference to past beating

Notes | This was already mostly finished, part of it was written even before Warmth lol, so I finsihed it up before getting on with where we left off.

Yves tries to get a job.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​ @alliecat5594​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight​​ @whumpzone​​ @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles​​ @whumpsy-daisies​​ @briars7​​ @yet-another-heathen​​ @rosesareviolentlyread​​ @cupcakes-and-pain​​ @hollowtreesinhollowwoods​​ @pleasancies​​ @much-ado-about-whumping​​ @nine-tailed-whump​​ @starnight-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @whots-a-tag-precious @tears-and-lilies @deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @maddam-redder @queenofthedark @neverthelass

Yves was glad he was allowed to follow Runar around, even help with little tasks around the house, but the longer it lasted, the more he started feeling like he had when he had been recovering from his injuries: useless, and scared of it.

He no longer thought Runar was going to punish him for being so useless. No. That wasn’t it.

This morning, over breakfast, he plucked up his courage. »Runar?«

Runar smiled at him, warmly, like he always did. »Hm?«

»What can I do? What do… people who are not warriors do?«

Runar looked at him silently for a moment, and for as long, Yves felt an unknown fear clench his heart. He wasn’t afraid of what Runar might do, this time. It was what he would - or wouldn’t - allow Yves to do that worried him.

If he wasn’t allowed to even try to support himself, was he really not a captive?

»You know you don’t… you don’t have to worry about that, right?« Runar finally said, searching his face.

Yves hesitated, then nodded, his heart still in his throat. He knew that. Right now, he was only too aware of it. He wanted to say something, he felt like he ought to explain himself, but he didn’t know how.

Runar leant back, his eyes still on Yves’ face, but more thoughtful now. »I mean, a lot of us are farmers, but it’s winter now. Housekeeping. Looking after the kids. Tailoring. Lots of spinning and weaving, for the sails and all…«

»I can learn that,« Yves managed. It felt strange, asserting he could do a thing, when for so long, everything around him had been so determined to show him he couldn’t do anything - he found it hard to believe his own words. But he could. He knew he could. It didn’t take strength, or any of the qualities he would never possess, a knowledge now beaten into his bones.

He watched for Runar’s reaction to his bold claim, and was flooded with relief to find a small, but warm smile.

»I… suppose you could, yes. If you really want to.« The smile made way for an earnest look into his eyes.

Yves nodded timidly.

* To say Yves felt at home amongst the weavers would have been a gross exaggeration.

But he did feel quite comfortable, and that was more than he would have dared to ask for. The constant chatter - at least one of them was always talking in this big room full of looms and spinning wheels - was oddly calming. Maybe it was because no one felt they needed to raise their voices to be heard; there was one elderly woman with a voice so naturally shrill it startled him every time, but that was, of course, no fault of hers.

Maybe it was just simply the fact that no one here was a warrior.

If he were going to make himself at home here, he could not have chosen a better place to come to. The weavers gossiped, mostly good-naturedly, about so-and-so’s child or so-and-so’s new boyfriend; within the week of starting to come here, he was caught up on all goings-on in the village.

Yves himself rarely spoke. What stories would he tell them? Of a land far away that was nothing to them but prey to their sons and sisters? Of worse?

No, he kept quiet, just let the words and tales wash over him.

It was a good place.

If he were going to make himself at home here.

Runar’s offer of bringing him back still haunted his mind.

Only, back to what? The knights, he had gathered, were dead - and anyway, Runar would not have brought them back to them, that much he knew now. And the farm, before, he only distantly remembered - it seemed like a lifetime ago - would they even remember him? Would they recognize the person he was now from their memories?

Runar had told him he’d rather have Yves stay. Yves did not want to argue. Certainly not for the slim chance of returning a life he had long been taken from.

Perhaps it was for the best he should stay here. Perhaps the fear that had been eating away at him was truly unfounded. Perhaps the village could become home.

He tried to picture it, picture himself as one of them. But even sitting here, passing the shuttle back and forth, careful not to twist his left hand in the way that still shot a sting of pain through his arm after the knights shattered it, listening to the tales and gossip flowing around him, he couldn’t imagine it. Being safe, just like that.

Being home.

[dragonmuse]

A while ago you wrote about izzy dealing with PTSD and how lucius reacts with it, but does eddy deal with similar things, and if so I would love a ficlet of her and stede in a similar vein as the Lucius izzy one.

(hi anon, I hope you still follow me cause this is from August and yes, Izzy dealing with PTSD was all the way back in chapter 67 of More to the Story.)

It was, Stede thought to himself, cliche to say it was a dark and stormy night, but cliches were cliches because sometimes things happened over and over. There must’ve been a thousand dark and stormy nights in human history and tonight just happened to be one of them. He had a good umbrella at least, pressed against the bluster, but he was getting damp and the cold got into places.

He was already daydreaming about getting into the house to find Eddy tucked up on the couch. Just the vision of them under a blanket, hair gathered up off their face in the lamp light was enough to warm him a little.

Dinner was in a plastic bag, and he brought it closer to his chest to protect the contents from the rain. A warm night with his spouse with plenty of good hot food for dinner. What more could he ask for?

But there was no warm lamplight when he came in. The whole first floor was dark as if she’d never been home at all. He might even think that if he hadn’t kissed her goodbye on his way out, the two of them passing like ships in the night as she returned from her own errands. Their boots were still at the bench and it was unlikely they’d trade shoes on such a night.

Stede took off his own loafers, turning on the light to set the bag down in the kitchen.

“Honey?” He called.

No response. Hm. He headed upstairs, already shrugging out of his damp things. He would text once he was changed and was less likely to trail water over his phone screen.

Their bedroom and closets were dark, his office door firmly shut. Stede changed into flannel pajama pants and one of Eddy’s t-shirts, the neck stretched out with repeated annoyed tugs until it was only fit for this service. He was just about to go downstairs, when he thought he heard something small, something barely there under the raucous wind.

He forced himself to be still. Eddy had taught him this trick, though she’d explained with a lot of frowning and gesturing and it had taken him a while to get a hang of it. She called it ‘deep listening’ and Stede thought of it more as ‘mindfulness of the moment’. Eddy had mentioned once that Izzy referred to it as ‘testing the quality of silence’ which seemed oddly poetical of a man not prone to it.

Whatever the case, Stede quieted himself and listened.

Yes. Someone was here. Close by, even. The bathroom, he decided after another heartbeat or two. He should’ve thought of that first. Eddy often went to the bathroom first when there was something on her mind. He knocked, waited and got no response, but when he tried the handle, he found that it hadn’t even been pulled all the way closed, let alone locked.

She was sitting in the enormous bathtub, fully clothed and no water flowing. When he walked across the floor, her head turned fractionally to watch his progress though her expression was empty. He kneeled down beside the tub, cushioned by the thick bathmat.

“What happened?”

Eddy rested her head on the side of the tub without answer.

“All right,” Stede folded his arms on the lip and rested his chin on them. “Shall I tell you about my day?”

She said nothing, but her eyes were on him, so he started talking. All his life it seemed people had wanted him to just stop talking. Ideally, also, to leave. While these days, the list of people that would actually listen had grown, Eddy was still the first one. More than anyone else, she sought out his words. They asked for them.

“-and then I was standing there in the grocery store and I realized I had absolutely no idea what I’d come in for. I had your favorite honey and a dozen other things that caught my eye, including some raspberries they looked very ripe we should have those with dessert. I really should’ve made a list. I did go to the pharmacy, but your prescription wasn’t ready yet. Tomorrow, apparently. It’s on my way to my barber and I have a haircut so that’ll be fine. If they don’t have it then, we really should consider switching though.”

“I like them better,” Eddy practically whispered. “The last place was shitty.”

“I know, love,” Stede acknowledged. “Maybe I can ask around a little. Figure out a safer place that’s also more timely.”

“All right,” Eddy shifted, bringing her face close to his, cheek resting against cheek. He put his hand to the back of her head, not gripping, just gently cupping, keeping her close.

“Then I texted you about dinner and you told me what you wanted. It’s downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Kay,” she didn’t move.

“I talked to Alma today for a few minutes,” he offered, his last card in his hand.

“Something wrong?”

“No,no. She’s writing an essay on Dickens and apparently she loathes him and was hoping I might have some insight. Mary told her to call me as apparently Mary and Doug managed not to read him at all.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“That I also didn’t have any particular love for his writing, but that one could never go wrong talking about the plight of orphans in Victorian England. We should probably both be prepared for a veritable dissertation on the workhouse next time she’s here.”

“Okay, don’t tell me anything. Let her.”

“Will do,” Stede rubbed his cheek against hers slowly. He was stubbly, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Ready to come out of the tub, dear heart?”

“Yeah, think so.”

Stede stood and offered her both his hands. They took them and rose out. Their feet were bare, but otherwise they were wearing what they’d walked in the door with. He drew her into her closet first, undressing her piece by piece. She helped, but mostly watched him, withdrawn and unsettlingly still.

Then he held out the lavender robe to her and she drew that on herself, belting it with sigh. Downstairs they went, Stede turning on lights as they walked. The food had gone cool, so he re-warmed it in the microwave. They ate at the table in silence, Stede bracketing her ankles between his own. He waited until her plate was clear and her water glass was empty.

“What happened?” He asked, barely above a whisper.

“It was the wind,” she sighed, leaning back in her hair, taking down her hair, so it fell around her like a curtain. “Something hit the window, then the rain. I got tense and I couldn’t untense. I paced around and it was dark. I don’t know. The tube seemed best.”

“It’s a good tub,” he said and he wanted to crush her into a hug. He wanted to shake her. He wanted….so many things. This had only happened a few times since they’d met, but he already knew that all he could offer was this: his voice, his affection, his presence.

“Couch?” She asked, looking away.

“Of course, honey.”

He turned on music to drown out the rain. He brushed her hair out when she asked, rebraiding it. And then at last, she collapsed down on him, the glorious press of her body on his delighting him.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Never sorry,” he kissed the crown of their head. “Whatever you need. Whenever you need it.” “Done so much bad shit and that’s all that sticks with me. One night. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t think so. It changed you, brought the things that came after. The first domino.”

“Would you still love me if I never got out of the tub?”

“Oh yes,” he smiled into her hair. “I would buy you a mermaid tail and start you a very profitable Instagram account.”

“Genius,” she laughed softly. “Your captured treasure from the seas.”

“Dye your hair green.”

“Paint on scales.”

“Tattoo them. It’s a lifestyle, honey, you can’t do half-measures.”

“Right,” Eddy snickered. “Oooh no top, just lots and lots of pearl necklaces.”

“You could do that look without the tub. I’d watch that number.”

“I’m not doing burlesque in public for you, perv.”

“A shame, you’d be marvelous at it. Better than Buttons.”

“High praise.”

Vivaldi swelled and the rain couldn’t compete with the rising strings. They talked themselves into a dream and stayed there until it was safe to go to bed.

[lunaekalenda]

"𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢" 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔬𝔶𝔰! - 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔟 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 @levisgirll

Hello everyone!! This is a special collab post brought to you by ‘cookiefics’ and ‘levisgirll’ and we decided to work together and write up a post which is y/n pranking their aot boyfriends!

Check out cookiefics for Eren and Reiner -  you’re here :D

Check out ‘levisgirll’ for Levi and Jean. - find it here :D

Synopsis: Y/N decided to prank the boys in attack on titan by saying they don’t want to ‘sleep with them tonight’. Some will get annoyed, sad, might tease you back or try to get your attention! And to make it up, Y/N ends the prank by saying the 3 words they long wanted to hear! So pick or check out which character you like the most and enjoy <3 We promise this will be good, it is filled with love, fluff, entertainment and a little bit angst.

a/n:  hi! cookie here lol. just wanted to say that working with mina was such a good and fun experience! i absolutely enjoyed every minute of it! :D i’m really happy about how it ended and i really hope you all enjoy this as much as we enjoyed creating it together! also, remember to check Mina’s works on @levisgirll to find more quality - specially for levi- content, you won’t regret it, she’s SUPER talented !! ;) please support her on her works !

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eren x reader, reiner x reader

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eren:

Eren didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth so smoothly as it did.

“Today I prefer to sleep alone.” he raised a brow, a silent ask in his eyes while he took off his shirt, getting ready for bed. He looks at you once again, seeing how you’re not in bed, just sitting there, looking at him.

“Are you serious?” he asks. You nod quietly. You can see how his lip pouts a little, his nose being extremely cute while he does it.

You want to laugh so bad, his confused green eyes looking quietly around, as if he was searching a camera or something.

“Where am I supposed to sleep then, honey?” he asks, without even asking again if he has to sleep far from you.

“I don’t know… On the sofa?” you ask. He sighs. He looks once more to you, making sure you want that.

“‘M going then, good night, honey.” he says, the pout still on his mouth.

“Night, Eren.”

That definitely made him turn around and face you. 

“Okay. No good, just night, followed by Eren as if i did something. What did I do this time?” he asks. His precious eyes are still on yours, and you shake your head.

“You did nothing.” you say. His brain starts to work at 100% capacity. Maybe the problem is that he didn’t make anything.

He looked quick to the clock. It isn’t your birthday, your anniversary or any other special date.

He kissed you this morning before and after leaving home. He called you during your work rest. He cooked dinner and spent some time with you on the couch.

What the hell are you saying then? You want to sleep alone for what reason?

He doesn’t want to pressure you, though. He knows maybe you have your reasons to avoid him today and he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

He takes then his pillow and walks towards the couch, taking a blanket on his way. He murmurs to himself and you can hear him, trying to cover your laugh.

Minutes later, you walk silently to the couch. Eren is almost ready for his sleep, his hair tangled on a low bun and his pillow on the couch.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” he asks. You laugh quietly.

“It was a joke.” Eren’s green eyes are now open with surprise, before a brow raises quietly.

“Oh, so it was a joke.” he says, getting up slowly. “How funny.”

He was supposed to laugh, but he looks at you instead, with a serious expression. “Search where to hide cause I’m not going to be merciful with you.”

You run towards your bedroom, laughing, and you can hear his steps behind you. You jump into your shared bed, seeing how he closes the door behind him.

You move until your back is against the headboard. You keep laughing.

“Eren!” you say, and he takes off his bun. Then, casually, he takes the hair tie between his teeth, a smirk starting to appear on his lips.

He crawls to the bed, his arms all tensed, the muscles on his back marked by the strength he’s using to lift his body.

He gets closer to you, the hair tie still between his lips. This isn’t funny anymore. You want that damn hair tie to disappear from his mouth. You want to be the thing Eren is casually kissing.

He sits in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours.

With patience, he ties his hair in a bun, your eyes following his fingers, how they pass the hair between the hair tie parts. His eyes are still locked on yours. Once he’s finished, he gets closer.

“That joke of yours annoyed me. Now, deal with it, hm?” he whispers.

That was almost a direct attack. You feel your legs weak against his husky voice. He smirks, getting closer to you.

Closed door, hair in a tight bun, no shirt and just a little lamp as a source of light made you think of how the night will end, making you smile for yourself while he keeps being closer. Your lips are almost on his, but he takes his head away, smiling.

“If you think I tied up my hair and closed the door to do disrespectful things with you, you’re so wrong, honey” he says. You’re totally shocked and Eren laughs.

“What was that, Jaeger?” you ask, surprised because of the change of his mood. He enters the bed between laughs.

“Revenge, honey.”

You pout while he gets comfortable on the bed.

“Now you should kiss me.” you say. You’re angry at him now. Is he leaving you like that? Like the mess he made out of you?

“I want to sleep. Good night, y/n”

reiner:

“Reiner…” You call him. He looks at you, his sweet smile only directed at you. That makes your heart flutter, and also makes you feel kinda cruel.

“Yes, my love?”

“Today I want to sleep alone.” All the joy and calm in his eyes starts to disappear, his head getting full of thoughts.

“Why?” he asks simply. “Please, my love, don’t sleep away from me…” His head got invaded.

Why? Did I mess it up? Does they want to leave me? Did I fail again?

You can see how the prank started to make his head overthink, so you approach him quickly.

Your hands take his t-shirt, pulling him to you. He has a sad expression.

“Sorry, Rein. It was just a TikTok prank and I didn’t know it would affect you so much. I’m so sorry.” You were almost in tears. Reiner sighs.

“Please, don’t do that again.” he asks softly. “I got scared. I thought I made something wrong.” he says. That breaks your heart a little more. You start to cry against his shirt. “Hey, love. Don’t cry. It was just a joke.” he says.

He turns around and takes your face in his hands. You feel how he wipes out some tears, smiling a little for you. “But please, never scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again. He takes your face closer and kisses your forehead sweetly.

“But you do still love me, right?” That question makes you shed a couple tears.

“I love you, Rein. I do, please don’t forget it.”

He smiles a little more. “I also love you a lot.” he says. He takes his lips again to your face, this time, your nose. “But you really scared me.”

“I’ll never do it again.” you say. He looks at you.

“Then.. Can I sleep here?” he asks. You both laugh a little.

Once you two are accommodated, with you between Reiner’s arms, feeling his soft breath on your hair and his legs tangled with yours, you feel safe.

“Rein.” you whisper. He hums. “If I ever hurt you, please tell me. Even if it is just a little thing.” He takes you closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.” you say. Your lips leave a kiss on his chest, near to where his heart is beating. You feel his hands hugging your body stronger.

“Okay. But the same goes for you. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re the most precious person I have.” he says. His hands go up and down your spine.

“You’re also the most important person to me. I really love you. I fell in love with you and I wouldn’t doubt doing it again.” you say. You feel how his mouth moves against your head. “Rein?”

Afraid of finding him crying, you look at him. The moonlight that enters is enough to see your boyfriend’s smile.

“That’s… That’s so sweet. You make me so happy…” his  eyes are now shining. You are grateful for seeing that shining again. He caresses your cheek again, and you rest your head on the pillow, letting your faces meet.

“Rein.”

“Hm?” he says, fixed on your eyes and the way his thumb draws on your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

He smiles widely, even more than before. He gets closer to you.

“Until my lips hurt, please.”

[krogans-give-the-best-cuddles]

Lot of interesting discussions being had in the sims community today about whether people should be able to sell their work or not...

As far as people blaming paywalls (including early access) for ruining the community and changing it from what it was, i don't think that's accurate. Tbh the 2017 era of "no paywalls, simply click thru shady adfly links to get mods" was worse than people using patreon. And also. Lets be real here.

The game is old. They're putting out new content for it, but its fucking old. I was around for skyrim mods from the beginning, and it is probably the most modded game ever. They're out here releasing new content 10 yrs after launch (much like the sims), but is the mod community what it used to be there? In breadth of content absolutely not. The quality of content has only risen, but the amount?? On special edition I cannot find half of the clothes I used to use in legendary. But those new animation variance mods are sick as hell. Its the tradeoff of just... Time.

Creators get bored of the game eventually. This is absolutely happening to the sims. Not to mention that it costs near $1000 to buy the whole game in its entirety now. Thats gonna drive away creators.

As far as the culture of mod creation (not just the kind/amounts of mods made) I agree that the tone used to be v different like back in 2016. But I think there are multiple factors for that, and singling out the use of patreon is not doing us good in the long run, if we wanna focus on making the community better again. First of all, people were treating creators like real shit back then.

Like I know we all wanna think about like how cool it was to interact regularly with our fave creators, but like... That parasociality can and does take a toll on people. I've seen people complain that lots of creators nowadays don't even build a rapport w the community before trying to make money off mods. I can understand that argument, but like. Sometimes that rapport wasn't a rapport. Sometimes it was people regularly harassing and assuming a close relationship w a virtual stranger bc they saw their posts about video game stuff.

To go into this further, i remember simtober 2019 (i think that was the specific year) fucking sucked for people. MULTIPLE creators i followed had to explain that the wait for cc wasn't against the rules, it was simply a little game. And then they got death threats from people who said they shouldn't have to wait a week for cc if they didn't want to play said game. Cowconuts also had that happen when they did a whole "solve a riddle get a cc" event. Like, the old days were not often nice for the creators on the other end of managing the social media prescence here.

If someone said "hm id rather not go talk to everyone and constantly be exposed to that kind of bullshit, im just gonna run my patreon" tbh I think that's kind of reasonable.

Secondly, the world fucking sucks right now. A lot of these people are using patreon money to have gas to go to work. A lot of these people are feeding their dogs this way. Does it suck that this once free community is being coopted into a side hustle? Yes, but lets be real. Its not being coopted by these individuals. Its being coopted by capitalism. If someone lives in a world where baby formula costs money, and drinking water costs money, and having shelter costs money, and being in a cool place costs money (more important as climate change worsens), they're going to find that money however the hell they can. If that means they have a hobby they can monetize, they will do it. This isn't a moral failing, in this situation its simply survival. What's a moral failing is what's allowing societies to exist in such a way to begin with.

I saw some arguments against this by saying that people who have these skills can take to the job market that hires for them, but i feel like that shows little understanding of that very market. Game design, including modelling, does not pay much better when paid by a giant corp than it does by getting patrons. It also is a notoriously competitive field, and a notoriously discriminatory one. If you look it up you will see that the numbers of women and all people of color at most game companies are not at all similar to the demographics in the areas those companies are run from. More directly, these companies are racist and sexist and will not hire enough of the people who might make these games. This is not even touching on the regular reports of wide spread rape and harassment cultures at these companies that drive the few people who make it in, out. And also not getting into the insane crunch times these companies go into which often ruin lives.

Of course if you have the skills to mod in any way it would seem more appealing to be your own boss and make money off a loyal fanbase of your own instead of be subjected to current industry standards.

Finally, when EA itself is one of these companies who is doing all of the above to its devs, and also selling what is often complete garbage for up to $1000... It frankly seems absurd to complain about Dude Down The Block who makes you wait two extra weeks for free shit or you can pay him $3 now. It seems like a classic case of punching where you can reach, instead of focusing on the guy who's really fucking you over.

This isn't to say there's nothing wrong with the current system we have, however. There are many things. Patreon itself is often gouging these creators, making them far less "their own boss" than they originally might have thought. These people often have access to tons of people's private information, including full names and emails, with almost no oversight. Lots of creators HAVE used this to doxx people, which is absolutely disgusting. Also, the general idea of turning every hobby into a side hustle is deeply entrenched in these spaces, which is super harmful to people's mental health tbh. Not to mention that having a patreon may spare you the creator a bit of parasociality directed at you, but it gives you just enough to be able to wield your followers against others (which is not a patreon only problem either).

All these problems line up so that like a patreon owner can absolutely wield their power in ways that can harm people. But they aren't like... A cop or a social worker or a nurse or even really a celebrity. So they have about as much power to do that as your avg tumblr user making no money who happens to have followers.

To be clear here, I'm not saying there's no real harm coming from monetizing mods. I'm simply saying that the monetization of mods in general is only a symptom of the real disease here. Until more is done to make life liveable without money, or more is done to really address parasociality in our society, or if you wanna start even smaller until more is done to address the harm EA as a singular company does and will continue to do, there will always be a new way to paywall. We will always be fighting over these scraps, unless we do something to make them more than scraps.

You don't cure the flu by taking ibuprofen. You just get rid of the bodyaches for a while. They come back as long as the virus stays there. And banning people from early accessing their content won't make simblr better, bc people will come up w a new way to make money, as long as they have a need to do so to survive.

[starlightrows]

6 — The Uninvited Guest

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: NSFW, throne sex, p in v sex, non graphic violence

Summary: You get the opportunity to do some shopping and come home to an unwelcome guest

*This chapter contains spoilers/content for an upcoming series that severely deviates from canon*

The following weeks bring many new changes for you. Outwardly, your relationship with Boba doesn’t change, there’s almost no need for it. The staff were always aware of your place at his side. But now, privately your relationship with him has grown tremendously. Every evening you share a meal, some nights you bathe together and catch up on your days, or other nights you lay together in bed and make out while the holovision plays in the background. Boba is patient and attentive, just like the first time. He makes sure you’re comfortable and satisfied each and every time he is intimate with you. When he said he was going to take care of you before, he meant it. 

It’s a good life you find yourself living. You now have a full staff and guard employed, and they’re mostly self-sufficient needing minimal guidance or direction from you. You have a lover that cares for you and your happiness. And safety. Beyond just having a full staff and guard, you feel safe in the palace. Something that you never truly had before. 

The only thing is, now that the household is up and running, and all of the repairs and extensions are underway. You have an inordinate amount of time on your hands.

You’d love to start working on the sunless garden room, but it isn't finished being constructed. You’d love to start refurbishing some of the other store rooms down below, but he’s asked you not to go down there. 

“Better you have no knowledge of what used to be down there, and even better if you have no knowledge of what’s currently down there” he would tell you “Trust me cyare” 

So you’ve been spending your days in a series of connected rooms that were certainly intended to be a library at one point. But leave it to a Hutt to not have a single book in the entire palace. So you spend your days using the ladder to clean the layers of dust off the floor to ceiling shelves. 

At least until the garden room is ready, you desperately need a new hobby or activity or you’re going to lose your mind. You decide to bring it up to Boba, maybe he’ll have small tasks or jobs you can help with, or have ideas of things you can do to occupy your time. 

Dinner tonight is some kind of roasted meat and accompanying root vegetables. Definitely something that was imported from another planet, and purchased at the market. You wonder where it came from, how far did it travel to reach your plate, would the staff get to share the same quality of food, did the person who grew this get to eat this well? 

“Something on your mind cyare?” Boba asks you, drawing you out of your thoughts as you eat. 

“Hm? Oh yes, I actually wanted to ask you about something” you start “I um… I don’t have enough to do during the day. Is there anything I can do to be helpful?”

“Are you telling me you're bored mesh’la” he chuckles 

Your cheeks flush a bit “Kind of” 

“You’ve told me before that you’ve spent your entire life working to support yourself up to this point, yes?” He asks 

You nod in response. It’s a true statement, all of your daily tasks and activities in your old life were more of necessities than hobbies. Cooking, gardening, cleaning, sewing… you can’t remember the last time you did something just for yourself.

“I don’t want to get you wrapped up in my business affairs, that would put you in a dangerous position” he explains “But if you are in need of tasks or activities you’re welcome to take over more responsibilities to manage the household. Menu planning, market trips, maintaining payment records of the household staff. And, of course you can continue managing the construction projects. Other than that, you’re welcome to purchase any supplies you’d like to take up new interests” 

“Like hobbies” you giggle “What kind of hobbies do you think would suit me?” 

“Anything you’d like. Tomorrow you’re welcome to go down to the market, and seek out new projects” he’s finished with his plate, and pushes it away from himself. 

Going down to the market does sound kind of fun. You haven’t been back down there since you first arrived to Tatooine. You definitely saw more in that one afternoon that you were curious to look at again. At the time you were so overheated from your improper attire and overwhelmed by being accompanied by Boba, that you didn’t have a chance to truly explore. 

But now, equipped with clothes more suited to the climate, you’re excited about getting another opportunity to roam through the market. 

“Can I get you anything from the market while I’m there tomorrow?” You ask, wanting to keep him in mind as well

“No” he answers simply. He glanced down at your plate “Shall we retire?” 

You smile and nod, stacking the plates up in the center of the table. Boba has mentioned to you before that you don’t have to clean up the table, but you do it every meal anyway. Washing the dishes and cleaning the dining room was your least favorite chore working at the inn, you figure the maids and scullery here must not like it too much either, so you at least stack up the plates so they don’t have to. 

Boba offers you his arm and escorts you down the many hallways to reach your chambers. You decide not to have a bath tonight, if you’re going out tomorrow you’re going to get dusty and covered with sand, better to conserve the water and bathe tomorrow instead. 

Boba on the other hand looks like he could use a bath. The kind with bacta packets and moisturizing oils in it. When he strips down to just a pair of pants for sleeping, you notice his skin looks raw and irritated. Tomorrow you promise yourself, you’ll buy more bacta packets and mix a nice soothing bath for him. 

“Coming?” He asks, nodding his head towards the bed and turning on the holo. You slip on your own night shirt and climb into bed with him, settling in with his arm around you. 

You were initially surprised by Boba’s taste in holovision shows. Crime dramas and medical procedurals. You’ve never owned a personal holo device before moving to Tatooine, so you’ve enjoyed relaxing in the evenings watching dramas with him. 

But you never last too long with these shows, your eyelids begin to feel heavy and your breathing evens out. Boba can usually tell you’re fading and subtly turns the volume down so he can finish the episode and you can sleep without being disturbed. 

In the morning you wake up by yourself. It’s like this many mornings, if Boba has earlier meetings he leaves you to wake up in your own time. So you get up, make the bed, wash your face and dress for the day. It’s barely 7 am, but both suns have already breached the horizon, making it hot and arid. You move quickly to get to town. 

You don’t stick out like you did before, wearing the sort of clothes suited to this climate allows you to blend in. Making it much easier for you to explore the market, speak to merchants and locals, and enjoy your day. 

You spend hours looking through the wares of produce merchants, asking them where their vegetables and fruits come from. You look through the clothing stalls again, and pick out a few new dresses as well as a few other things. You stop at an apothecary stall and strike up a conversation with the healer behind the counter.

“My partner suffers from painful skin lesions from chemical burns, are there any treatments you would recommend to help soothe the skin?” 

The healer gives you a once over, and a skeptical eye “What caused the burns?” He asks 

“Not sure, sustained the injuries before we met” you say rather quickly, before adding “not my business to ask” 

The healer makes a sound of acknowledgment, and places a jar of white cream in front of you on the counter. Then he places a tray of various oils and tinctures in front of you as well, and unscrews the lid to the jar. 

“Tell me girl, this partner of yours, is the skin overly dry?” he sounds almost bored, you suspect he’s been at this job for too long. Or it’s just his personality to be slightly rude and dry humored.

You nod “Yes, so dry it cracks and bleeds” He nods and adds a few drops of one of the oils to the jar of cream. 

“And these lesions, do they cause swelling or inflammation?” 

He goes on and on asking about symptoms and adding various serums and oils to the cream. Finally he puts the lid back on the jar, and shakes it vigorously. 

“Tell your partner to apply this every two days until the pot is empty. It is not a cure, but it will help the symptoms” he pushes the jar towards you. 

“Thank you” you place a coin purse full of credits down on the counter and take the jar. 

Your last stop is to a vendor that’s selling pigments. Various kinds of dye for coloring fabrics, vibrant colored powders intended to be mixed into paint. You’ve always wanted to learn how to paint… and Boba did say you were free to buy whatever you want to fill your time. Maybe painting would be a good hobby to take up until construction is finished on the sunless garden rooms. 

The woman running the stall explains to you how to mix pigments to make various colors, and sets you up with a beautiful collection of paints to start with. As well as brushes and canvases. She even agrees to have the supplies delivered to the palace so you wouldn’t have to travel it there yourself on foot. 

With all of your supplies purchased, and the market thoroughly explored you made your way back towards the palace. As you descend the stairs into the main entrance you hear elevated voices echoing in the throne room below. You pause, staying out of sight to listen. 

"You helped the other Mandalorian and now I need your help and you will help me." sneered a woman’s voice. 

“I owe no allegiance to you” Boba responded, completely unbothered by this seemingly unfounded request.  

“I’ve told you before, you are a disgrace to your armor. You can not call yourself a Mandalorian and not participate in reclaiming our home world” the woman spits 

“I never made claim to be and I—”

“Of course not, you’re a clone. A clone of a man who also disgraced the ways of Mandalore” she interrupts “I am not asking you to participate in our cause, I am ordering you to” 

“You have overstayed your welcome Lady Kryze” that’s Fennec’s voice now… you just know that Boba must be seething in his armor right now. 

You have no idea who this Lady Kryze person is, but how dare she come here and make demands like this and insult him on top of it. Regardless of whatever authority she thinks she has over Boba, she is doing a terrible job of making her offer appealing in any way. 

“Fett, I order you to mobilize your network of bounty hunters, spies, soldiers and guardsmen to our cause. I will not ask again” you can hear an edge has crept into the woman’s voice, that is a threat not an offer. 

Suddenly you don’t feel so safe in your hiding place around the corner of the stairs. This is about to get ugly, and you know better than to be anywhere near it. So you backup slowly and quietly, up the stairs and onto the platform behind the durasteel compound door and take the second staircase on the opposite side that leads down to the kitchens and servants quarters. As you start down the second staircase, you hear the fighting begin. 

You run down the stairs, through the kitchens— narrowly avoiding a collision with one of the scullery maids transporting a large pot of what you assume is broth— and out into the halls to find your way back to the throne room entrance that is behind Boba’s throne. You want to know what’s going on, but don’t want to get caught or hurt. 

Finally you reach the passageway you’re looking for, and can still hear angry voices shouting… the metallic sound of armor colliding… and impact from the blows… finally you hear a third female voice you do not recognize as being Fennec or Lady Kryze

“Enough! We don’t need a weakened old man who would sooner rob us than help us in our cause” 

The fighting seems to stop, or at least pause. 

“You’re right. We’re wasting our time. You said it yourself, you’re not even a real Mandalorian and neither was your father”’

You can hear Boba try to lunge with a brutal cry of anger and hate, but you assume Fennec holds him back because the two women are retreating back up the stairs and out of the palace. 

“Let them go” Fennec says lowly “She’ll be a martyr if you kill her now” 

Boba grumbles something in response that you don’t quite catch, but you’re sure is something scathing. 

With this Lady Kryze now gone, you deem it safe to reveal yourself. You step around the corner and enter the throne room. 

“Boba?” 

Boba and Fennec both whip around at the sound of your small voice echoing through the throne room. 

“Cyare! What are you doing here?” Boba asks, advancing towards you quickly and removing his helmet.

“I just got back from the market and heard...” you shake your head, unable to describe what it was you were hearing between him and the mystery guests “Who were those people?” 

Fennec slinks away, back up the stairs towards the entrance. Presumably to make sure the two women were actually leaving and now attempting to sneak back in or hand around and cause more problems. 

“That was Lady Bo Katan Kryze, she believes herself to be the rightful ruler of Mandalore” he explains “She’s hell's bent on reunifying Mandalore and claiming her throne” 

“But you’re not impeding her from doing that. Mandalore is on the other side of the galaxy”

“No little one, but by refusing to aid her cause, I am effectively standing in her way. My connection to the Mandalorian that currently rules Mandalore is invaluable to her. But I will not betray my friend and ally’s trust. Especially for a woman like that” he can see the worry written so plainly on your face, he tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger “I don’t want you to trouble yourself with all of this”

“She called you a clone… and denied you of your heritage” you shake your head in confusion

“She’s not wrong, I am a clone. I told you before of my fathers passing and getting separated from my mother in the Clone Wars” he begins. He was hoping to have this conversation under different circumstances “My buir, my father was Jango Fett. He was the template for the clone army” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief “How… the accelerated aging… I thought all of them had passed away…” 

“I was not a soldier. I was his son. The original clone of my father with no genetic modifications. My mother was a surrogate, she carried me, gave birth to me, loved me and raised me as her own alongside my father” he explains, holding both of your hands in his. 

It’s a lot to take in, when he said his father passed away and he was separated from his mother at the beginning of the war, you just assumed he was displaced from his home. His father was killed in the fighting. You never imagined that his father was the template for the army or involved with the war effort in any way. 

“What really happened to your father?” You ask in a voice barely above a whisper

Boba swallows hard, he hasn’t had to talk about this painful part of his life in a very long time. 

“Buir sided with the Confederacy of Independent Systems, enemies of the Jedi… the war began at the battle of Geonosis… I was there. A Jedi engaged him in battle and… and killed him” he chokes out the last bit and then stops talking. 

Your heart aches. He was there, witnessing a battle and the death of his father at the young age of ten. You want to ask what happened to his mother too, but think better of it and keep your mouth shut. Instead you wrap your arms around him and place your head just underneath his chin. He takes a few deep breaths and is thankful for your embrace, and more grateful that you don’t see the tear that escapes his eye. 

“I’m so sorry” you say softly “That Bo Katan woman has no business coming in here and speaking ill of your father or your status as a Mandalorian” 

Boba pulls back from your embrace and strokes your cheek, regaining his composure "She never knew buir. She has no authority here. I am my father’s son and I will continue to wear his armor in his honor, regardless of her opinion on the matter."

“You wear it well. I really don’t know much about Mandalorians. But you’ll always be a Mandalorian to me” you smile reassuringly

“Thank you, little one. But Mandalorian or not, it is not a label or armor that makes me the person I am” Boba explained “Don’t worry yourself over this”

“Of course… I’m sorry I got upset. I know it won’t do to get emotional like this every time someone insults you in a meeting” you try to laugh a bit

“I’m touched by your care for me. You shouldn’t change who you are.” Boba smiles “I’m sorry I was less than forthcoming about my family and being a clone. I hope it doesn’t upset you”

You shook your head “It doesn’t change anything for me, you’re still you”

Boba gives a little smirks and tilts his head down to give you a kiss, “You’re a sweet little thing aren’t you” 

You blush and kiss him back, as his arm slips around your waist “Nothing special, just me” 

"Mmm, I think you’re special. Look at me. I am hardly one to desire and yet you care for me” he nips at your ear and kisses your jaw. 

Your hands slide up his neck and rest on his jaw, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “How could I not desire you?” you say softly “These lips that praise me, reassure me, kiss me... these eyes that saw me as something of worth before you even knew my name... these hands that hold me, protected me, made me feel beautiful. There is no other that can make me feel things I feel when I’m with you”

Boba is speechless. He pulled you forward into a passionate kiss, hoping you understand his adoration for you and so many other things that he has yet to process. “Stars you’re perfect” he mumbles, kissing you again. 

You stand for a moment or two with your arms wrapped around him, feeling his hands roam up and down your sides, down to your ass, giving it a squeeze. Then he’s grabbing your legs and hitching them up over his hips, taking steps forwards. Ascending the short steps to reach the throne, where he sits and continues kissing you and exploring your body with his hands. 

“Cyare” he mutters “want to feel you” 

You reach between your bodies and pull the tie that holds your wrapped blouse together. The garment falls open revealing your comfortable, but perhaps not the most attractive bra. Boba doesn’t seem to care at all, he’s more interested in slipping his hand beneath the material of your bra and feeling up your breasts.  

“Mesh’la” he groans reverently 

“Mm... you always... call me that...” you get out between kisses “what does that mean?”

"Beautiful" Boba translates

You hum and keep kissing him. He’s been getting away with complimenting you every day since the moment you met, time for payback. “Mm... big... strong... powerful... handsome” you whisper hotly. He’s beginning to get hard in his pants, you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. 

“I’m at your mercy princess” he teases rolling his hips forward into you “will you let me have you?” 

You kiss down his neck, not exactly sure of what your plan is. Usually he takes the lead in your more intimate bedchamber activities. “You have me” you whisper, trailing your hands up and down his sides. 

Boba sighs and runs a hand through your hair. He notices your hesitation. "Not sure where to start mesh’la?”

You nuzzle your nose against his, and kiss his lips “Yes”

“Do you need my help, sweet girl?”

“No” you say with determination. You sit up a little straighter and get on your knees so you’re no longer sitting on him. You work his pants down over his hips, taking his underwear with it. He’s already hard, and flushed with arousal. You bunch up the fabric of your long skirt and settle yourself down over his cock. You start with just rolling your hips forward, teasing him by dragging your clothed cunt over his aching cock. 

Boba adjusts his grip on your hips and pulls you closer as you rock yourself into him. Slick begins to soak through your panties, coating his cock with each gyration of your hips. You can’t help it, even though you’re the one in control, little whimpers and desperate sounds of pleasure escape your lips. 

Boba is going mad with how much he’s turned on. Your pretty face is pinched in concentration as you rub yourself on him, he knows you’re enjoying this, making him enjoy it that much more. He’s curious how long you’ll last with just this teasing, he’s curious how long he’ll last before his dominant side breaks and he’ll beg to fuck you. 

He gets his answer sooner than he expected. You rise back up off of him and push your panties to the side, and line him up with your entrance before sinking back down onto him. Taking the entire length of his cock in one deliciously fluid motion. You moan at the feeling of fullness, and still your movements, keeping your hands placed on his shoulders for stability. 

"Kriffing gods, you’re tight mesh'la.. good girl." Boba praised, overwhelmed by the feeling of your wet heat engulfing him. 

You slide yourself up and down, very slowly, breathing deeply as you do “Fuck… your cock’s so big” you moan

"I know, cyar'ika. You take me so well sweet girl” He helps you out a bit, moving your hips up and down, maintaining the pace you set. With his help it’s a little easier to move, making it easier to go faster and deeper. He shifts you back just a bit, hitting something new and electric inside you. 

He can feel you getting tighter, getting ready to cum. He wants to last, but it’s difficult when he knows you’re so close. “Come on mesh’la, ride that cock” 

You throw your head back, eyes glazed over with pleasure and mouth wide open in a silent scream as you find your release. He takes over most of the effort, bucking his hips up off of the throne into your cunt, chasing his own high. He grunts as he strikes just the right cord and cums deep inside you. Your legs shake from the effort of holding yourself up and you collapse against him, breathing heavily. 

Boba leans back against the throne placing one arm up on the armrests and the other on the back of your head, massaging your scalp with his talented fingers. The throne room is quiet, except for both of your labored breathing that’s beginning to even out. 

He mumbles your name. You can only nuzzle your face in his robe, your wits not yet about you. He chuckles, and strokes your back “Are you alright princess?” 

“Yeah” you manage to get out “I can’t feel my legs” 

“It’s alright little one, I’ve got you” carefully he lifts you back up, allowing himself to slip out. He readjusts your panties, and pulls his breeches back up, tucking his cock back into his underwear. He lets you settle back onto his chest, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Can I take you back to the bedroom, cyare?”

You nod against him in response. He helps you sit up just a bit to adjust your bra, and retie your blouse. He makes sure he’s got a good hold on you, and then stands from the throne and descends the stairs to head back towards your shared bed chambers. 

“Put me down” you mumble “I’m too heavy for you” 

“Nonsense, you’re not too heavy” he assures you “But I can put you down if you’d like” 

“Need to get some feeling back in my legs” you say softly. Boba pauses in the hallway, and sets you down gently. You take a moment, leaning on him before you put your full weight on your legs. He smiles warmly at you, “What?” 

He shakes his head with the same smile and kisses your forehead “Nothing, come on” 

He walks back to the bedchamber with you and doesn’t leave your side until you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. He goes off to the fresher and comes back with a glass of water for you to drink. When you’ve drunk it all, he instructs you to lay back on the bed and relax a bit while he returns the glass to the fresher. 

When he comes back he’s pleased to see you’ve followed his instruction and are laying back against the pillows waiting for him to return. He climbs onto the bed with you and lets you cuddle back up like before. Cuddling was never something he allowed with his previous partners when he was a younger man, but it’s different with you, he enjoys it. Craves it even. 

“How was the market today?” he asks “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

“I’m going to teach myself how to paint” you tell him “I’ve always wanted to learn how to paint” 

He hums in response and rubs your back absent mindedly “I’m sure you’ll make wonderful paintings cyare”

“If mesh’la means beautiful, what does cyare mean?” you ask him 

“Beloved” he answers 

That makes you smile, beloved 

“I got you something while I was down there today” 

“Hm? And what’s that?” He sits shifts a bit so he can see you while you speak

“I spoke to a healer running an apothecary stall about how one might treat dry skin from chemical burns” you explain “He made a customized cream we can put on your skin in the evenings to relieve your pain” 

He huffs a short laugh, almost in disbelief “Cyare, you are too good to me. This was supposed to be your day out, not spent worrying over me” 

“I care about you” you say softly “You make me feel safe and cared for every day. I want to make sure you’re well cared for too” 

He leans forward and kisses you soundly “Thank you cyare, truly” 

“You’re welcome” you curl further into him. Even just this small measure of protection, of being able to provide for him gives you warmth and joy. 

You lay together for at least a few more minutes before he speaks again. 

“Cyare” he begins “with Bo Katan coming here, and me outright refusing her, I need to solidify my alliance with Din Djarin”

“Who is Din Djarin?” You pull back from him to ask 

“The reluctant leader of Mandalore” he explains “He won his title through a tradition he wasn’t even aware of. He never intended to inherit power, but now with the loss of his son, he has no choice but to rule” 

“That’s very sad” you say “Do you think he will allow this Bo Katan to assume power?” 

“I doubt it” Boba assures you “But still, I will need to travel to Mandalore to see him in the coming days” 

“You’re worried about leaving me here by myself” you point out. Boba doesn’t answer, reluctant to admit the blatant truth. 

“I’ll be alright” you assure him “We have a palace full of guards, if you’re really so concerned Fennec can stay behind. But I assure you, I will be just fine for a couple days” 

“Miss independent” he chuckles, not entirely put at ease but feeling better that you’re not feeling anxious over it

“If I hung all over you, you’d never get any work done” you giggle “And I’d probably get into more trouble” 

“Alright” he relents “I will likely have to leave tomorrow to make good time” 

“Promise me something?” You stroke his cheek 

“Anything cyare” he catches your hand and kisses your open palm

“Kiss me before you go, even if I’m asleep” you ask softly 

“I promise cyare” 

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