#there is fluff coming one day

[toughbunnyforever]

maybe try writing him a note next time idk

[turbo-tsundere]

*superglues them together*

Aka, eeeeh fok it. Here's some ougoku stuff I've been sitting on. Happy THOSE GUYS day.

[caelanglang]

Post-Mission Celebration: Movie Night Afternoon (things that happen when you’re all working the night shift…)

if you squint you’ll see them breathing

[ruporas]

honeymoon phase! (ID in alt)

[akagi0021]

honestly, i like the sketch(no colors) better☹️☹️

[popponn]

so what if isagi yoichi is in love with you. you, too, are in love with isagi yoichi. but you see—through the law of romantic comedy, a misunderstanding must happen. and thus, it happens.

in your part, the thought of isagi being in love with you since the very start never crossed your mind. but, nevertheless, you still try your best to get his heart. yet, on isagi's part, he thinks it was all a gesture from a special best friend as he thinks you are actually in love with a third party and is too shy to make a move.

so, isagi eventually decides that on this rare occasion where he thinks that being an egoist will be a mistake, he shall play cupid and help you gain the heart of the other party. a teammate of his—which he actually doesn't know who—

"he is a bit scary when he is angry or on the field," you once clued him. "but i think he is really sweet!"

cue, enter from stage left, barou shohei and itoshi rin, the top two candidates.

(spoiler: in which, barou shohei and itoshi rin have to play matchmaking due to some romantic complications.)

note: a dumb dumb romcom where every party involved are g/sn/k level of intelligence in the romance department. it was entertaining and somehow funny to me. i nearly went only with barou only but hey why one angry victim when you can do two?? two who also have rages on isagi. been on my mind for a while but yeah writing this smells tough so i do what i do best—wips ♡ one day tho. all in all, isagi is not coming out unscathed no matter how this goes. at least i didn't also add kaiser (...unless?).

[keisukebajimipatron]

Sanzu Manga

🚨 SPOILER ALERT❗ okay now let's do this

Why i think Sanzu has a good heart and isn't just some crazy drug addict Mikey's dog. Part2

▫️Takeomi always scolded Sanzu for what Senju did and he received the punishments because he was a "good boy".

▪️And then this happens on a time line.

▫️And in another timeline this happens.

▫️And then THIS happened too.

▫️BUT ✋THIS 👇also happened.

So it seems to me that every damn timeline ends up putting sanzu in a not-so-pretty place, he always ends up scarred by something, one way or another he ended up losing his mind.

And while he probably has some kind of mental problem no matter what, in theory, no one is born bad so.....yeah.

But hey, every story has a crazy person and I guess it has to be him (although this story has more than one 👀).

[dreamtuna]

Afternoon Tea

Not a creative title, but just a moment that I've thought about a lot lately. What would post-war teatime be like with Levi? This is just one thought I had. Maybe I'll write more of them idk. I feel like these would be amongst the sweetest moments with him, especially if you're alone together. Attack on Titan - Levi x Reader fluff, tea, post-war, soft Levi i just wanna smoosh his cheekies so much, gender neutral reader Word Count: 800 It's important to just take the time to appreciate things.

The soft ticking of the wall clock, the gentle tinkling of cups as you placed them on the tray, the smell of freshly brewed tea. These things all engulfed you, demanding your full attention each and every day. Now it felt so important to take that time out and appreciate little things like the passage of time or the comfort of a hot drink. You never had before.

Furrowing your brow slightly, you followed the instructions you’d been given and carefully prepared the pot of tea, placing it on the tray too. It was not one of your strengths, but you threw your whole being into doing it to the best of your abilities each and every time, chasing that appreciative hum you hoped to hear. With a deep breath you picked up the tray and made your way out the door, careful not to catch your ankles on the wheelchair that sat beside it. Your ankle was still tender from doing so earlier.

You gently padded down the couple of steps into the front garden. You had searched long and hard for a suitable home without steps but he had insisted it would be fine, it was only a few and there was a sturdy handrail. And he had you. You had blushed furiously when he had said that. At a glance, his face had seemed disinterested and aloof, peering down at the paper he was reading, but you saw the way his eyes relaxed and his gentleness crept over his features. The next day you began preparing to move in.

Like then, he was peering down at the paper once more, not even glancing up when you set the tray down on the table. You slid onto the bench next to him, careful not to catch his walking stick that hung over the back, and stared across the garden and out into the fields before you. Far off you could see hills rise up, barely able to make out the moving specks of colour that must be grazing livestock. The breeze gently wrapped around you and your eyes fluttered shut.

A long moment passed before you heard the rustling of papers and felt movement as Levi put them down on the table, tucking an edge under the tray so it wouldn’t be caught if the wind picked up. Before you could open your eyes there was warmth. His arm had briefly found its way around your shoulders, pulling you in gently as his lips ghosted over your cheek. You felt like your heart was doing flips, like it was the first time he kissed you all over again that darkened night under the stars when he had convinced you to take a late night stroll with him. You heard him pouring the tea and slowly opened your eyes.

“I hope I got it right this time.”

He stared down at his cup and took a tentative sip. You awaited that appreciative hum, but it seemed it wasn’t coming.

“Better,” he finally said, still staring at his cup. He took another sip, and the slightest noise emanated from him. That was close enough for you and you felt a light blush spread across your cheeks alongside your smile.

When he finally looked up at you and saw your smile he seemed to freeze. After a moment, he gently set down his tea and turned to take your face in his hands. His thumbs gently stroked your soft skin as he held your gaze. You didn’t even realise you’d stopped breathing at first. Your lips parted soundlessly. His scarred skin, his damaged eye, none of it took away from how striking he was. He was just as handsome as when you met, maybe even more with that weight finally off his shoulders. Peace looked good on him.

He often held your face like this these days. He’d taken to just staring at you as much as possible. At first it had been kind of uncomfortable, especially that first night you woke up to find him gazing down at you as you slept. But the second you saw how flustered he got, apologising and trying to explain, you had thrown your arms around him and squeezed him so tightly. You had tried to muffle your sob into his shoulder when he squeezed you back just as tight, the happiness and love threatening to spill out of you at any moment. But as always he held you together. As always he kissed you gently.

He kissed you gently once again, that day in the warm wind on the bench outside the home you shared, while the tea he had taught you how to brew slowly cooled, forgotten and unimportant when the taste of your lips was available instead.

[niuxita21]

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Meiji: Why would I sit on a chair/the couch when my girlfriend's lap is literally RIGHT THERE

[chenziee]

To Love a Geisha

Written for the adorable @opfluffzine!! It's a free digital zine that you can download right here ☁️

ALSO check out the amazing spot art by @beasttrash!! It's so so cute 🤖🌸

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]

—————

“Hey, Franosuke, are you married?”

The question didn’t take Franosuke, a carpenter in the Flower Capital of Wano, completely by surprise. After all, a few of his coworkers had just spent the better half of their break complaining about their home lives—how their wives were on their asses about drinking and spending time with geishas instead of helping take care of the kids. Which was entirely in their right to do, in Franosuke’s opinion; a man should take responsibility and help his family, be it wife, kids, siblings, or parents!

But voicing those thoughts would go against his ‘role’, wouldn’t it?

And so, Franosuke simply laughed, shaking his head. “No way, man! I’m free as a super bird!”

“Good for you!” one of the men said, slapping Franosuke’s shoulder.

“Oh, but,” another one noted with a knowing smirk, “I hear you’ve got quite the favourite in old Tsugaru Umi’s teahouse.”

A small choir of ohh immediately followed as all his coworkers turned to look at Franosuke with wide, almost evil grins on their faces. A second later, a barrage of questions followed.

“It’s O-Some, isn’t it?!”

“I bet it’s Kisegawa!”

“The Oiran’s procession is going to be next month, I bet you switch your favourite then! Always happens.”

Honestly, Franosuke had no idea who or what they were talking about… but a happy smile still pulled on his lips as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Because, while his coworkers speculated wildly about who his favourite geisha might or might not be, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

Wandering to the silky black hair, two-coloured blue eyes, and mind so sharp it could destroy a man in a second.

Shaking his head, Franky laughed loudly as he brought himself to the reality where he was surrounded by a bunch of dudes with the smell of wood and sweat in the air. “You’re making me feel super weird now, guys! She’s a super lady. I’m not going to replace her because some pin-up girl walks by!”

His coworkers exchanged a confused glance. “What’s ‘pin-up girl’?”

Oh.

Shit, he shouldn’t have said that.

“A beautiful, sexy woman?” Franosuke tried, wrecking his brain for an excuse. “It’s… a dialect.”

Several doubtful looks and murmurs of, “where is he from again?” were his only response and he felt sweat building on his back, his shirt sticking to his skin uncomfortably. What could he say? How did he change the topic without it sounding forced?

What a super dumb slip of the tongue that was…

“Hey, assholes!! Stop slacking or I’m gonna fire you!”

All the men on the construction site jumped at the angry shout, everyone immediately rushing to pick up their saws and hammers and get to work. Meanwhile… Franosuke was never more grateful for Master Minatomo and his awful personality.

—————

Walking down the familiar streets of the Flower Capital, Franosuke marvelled at how easy finding his way was now. After all, it had only been a few weeks since he had arrived here and at first, the roads felt incredibly confusing. Them all being named 1st Street and 2nd Street and 36th Street wasn’t helping either because… 36th from what?

It made no sense to him. The city he grew up in was huge too but Water 7 had never felt as hard to navigate as this.

Now, though, he could walk these streets blindfolded—at least the parts of the city he knew. Actually… how many times had he walked this route? Even his coworkers had started to notice he visited the place often… Some might even say too often; they might say he was pathetic, hopeless, throwing away money for no reason, for a fake dream.

But it wasn’t fake, a dream, or hopeless to him.

Instead, the sight of the teahouse attached to a certain okiya made him feel happy. Excited.

“Sir Franosuke, we’ve been expecting you.” The teahouse worker bowed deeply in greeting before leading him to his reserved room and bowing again.

Franosuke wondered whether this treatment would ever stop freaking him out; it was like he was a nobility whenever he walked in here, it was super weird. But, he supposed that was what went with exclusive patronage—honestly, it was a miracle he was even allowed in here. Not many were, certainly not people who appeared suddenly out of nowhere with no background and no connections.

Yet another reason to suffer old Minatomo and his tantrums; if it weren’t for his patronage of this place, his recommendation, and friendship with the owner, there was no way for Franosuke to even get a glimpse of the garden, never mind getting to walk through the doors to this small, private room.

Well, no reason to dwell on that. He was here and that was all that mattered!

The moment he sat down at the tiny, low table, the door slid open quietly once more. And when he glanced towards it… a wide smile pulled on his lips. 

Kneeling on the ground just outside the room was a geisha, her head slightly bowed, eyes turned modestly to the ground. She waited a few seconds before she rose to her feet, entered the room and kneeled again to close the door behind herself, then turned to face Franosuke directly for the first time.

“Welcome… my Lord,” she said in a sweet voice before her eyes turned to the side once more. This time, however, it was in a more of a coy way than anything.

The sight nearly made Franosuke start laughing.

“Seeing you act like this, I feel like you’re about to assassinate me every time, Miss O-Robi.”

Now, it was O-Robi’s turn to quickly cover her mouth with her kimono sleeve to hide her chuckle. “I think Luffy wouldn’t be very happy if he came here with Sanji only to find out his shipwright was now in pieces, being sold for metal scrap.”

Franosuke frowned, crossing his large metal arms over his chest. “Hey! Are you doubting my abilities? I’m not so easy to just take apart and sell, lady!” He paused, then added, “You would make a lot of money with me though.”

This time, O-Robi couldn’t hold her quiet giggle back. She didn’t bother hiding it either as she finally joined Franosuke at his table. “I’ll make sure to sell you to the underground. I know people would pay hundreds of millions of beri for that laser beam of yours, Franky,” she said, her voice light with amusement.

“You’d better,” Franky huffed, nodding to himself. “Those people’d appreciate my super armoured body at least!”

Shaking her head with an easy smile still playing on her lips, Robin grabbed the sake bottle off the table, pouring Franky a cup with practised ease. Up until now, Franky had never realised how elegant such a simple action could be; it was like watching art in motion. Robin’s graceful hands were holding the bottle gently, the sake trickling into the cup with precision, not a single drop wasted. She was leaning forward slightly, the collar of her kimono falling low in the back, exposing and accentuating her long, delicate neck.

Franky jumped when someone tapped his shoulder right then, breaking him out of his reverie—when he turned to look who it was, however, only a detached hand growing out of his own arm greeted him, before it scattered into flower petals.

“Staring is rude, you know,” Robin said, shooting Franky a teasing look.

The man huffed out a laugh as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Robin’s cheek, careful of her make-up. “Sorry, Robin. Just admiring how beautiful my super geisha is.”

“A geisha mustn’t be touched, my Lord,” Robin said sternly, but the corners of her mouth twitched, her eyes dancing.

“Kick me out, then.” Franky grinned and, without missing a beat, kissed her again. 

Robin laughed. “You’re impossible.”

Finally, Franky grabbed the sake bottle from her, pouring her own cup for her. With a small thank you, Robin raised her cup to her lips, taking a sip—and then, as if completely letting go of her ‘role’, she leaned into Franky’s side, sighing contently.

For but a second, Franky froze. 

But then, something warm spilled inside of his chest and he raised his arm, pulling her closer to him. He almost forgot how it felt having Robin next to him, how comforting and exciting feeling her body heat seep into his skin—numb and hard with metal right underneath—was. The archeologist was so small next to him. Small and beautiful and oh-so deadly.

Franky knew that if she wanted to, she would be able to kill him in seconds. But she didn’t—wouldn’t. Not anymore. And Franky loved knowing that, loved that she chose every day to be here, with the crew. With him. She had gone through so much pain, but she was willing to open herself up and trust them even so.

He would make super damn sure she never regretted that decision.

Letting his smaller, human-sized hand out of his regular hand, Franky reached out, touching Robin’s cheek softly, making her tilt her head back to look at him. Robin hummed questioningly, but Franky only sighed. “I really wanna kiss you.”

“You did already.”

Franky clicked his tongue. “You know what I mean, Robin.”

“You’ll mess up my make-up,” Robin noted.

“And your teacher will yell at you, I know.” 

With a sigh, Franky retreated his hand; he really didn’t want a repeat of the first time he came here… Robin wasn’t allowed to leave the okiya for days after that, apparently something about proper geisha manners and perceived perfection and innocence. He didn’t really get it but he sure didn’t need a detailed explanation. Definitely not from the tiny old hag. She looked like she would go on forever given the chance.

Quickly covering her mouth with her kimono sleeve, Robin chuckled at Franky’s disappointment.

But then, Franky blinked when one of Robin’s hands came to rest against his shoulder, another on his chest as she rose to her knees with a soft smile on her lips—and a playful twinkle in her eyes. A third and a fourth hand cupped Franky’s face, gently guiding him forward—and a second later, their lips met, moulding together easily as they kissed properly for the first time in weeks.

Franky grinned into the kiss; the smell of the powder on Robin’s skin mixing with her perfume was tickling his nose, her lips soft against his own. The feeling made his heart race as if this was their first time.

It would probably always feel that way to him. With Robin, every day was like their first—especially now. After not seeing her for two whole years, it was as if he couldn’t get enough of her presence, her voice, her touch, her brilliance. 

She was just as beautiful, just as smart, just as perfect as she was when they first met. The only difference was that she was much more herself.

And Franky couldn’t help but love every last bit off her.

When his coworker asked if he was married earlier, Franky wasn’t being entirely honest. But… it wasn’t like he was completely lying either. He did have a wife but they were pirates, after all, and pirate weddings weren’t exactly official. Moreover, they were officiated by the captain. And their captain being Luffy… The whole thing pretty much consisted of Luffy saying ‘Marry you? Yeah, why not. Done.’ and then immediately asking if there was a wedding cake. 

Franky hesitated calling that a wedding. More like a super speed run of one. But—

It was enough for them.

Whether they were an assassin and a dismantler, an archeologist and a shipwright, or a geisha and a carpenter, Franky knew Robin would always be right there, by his side.

And Franky would always be grateful for it, ready to love her exactly the way she was in return.

[konigbabe]

Leon's hair looks so soft

i just wanna run my hands through it; to braid it (can we also talk about how he shakes his head to get rid of the water like a puppy)

Having Leon splayed on the couch, lying on his back; head on your stomach, both of you facing the television. It’s comforting–the quietness of the situation, just the TV playing, you and Leon silently watching. Like a moment frozen in time, the world outside the room ceases to exist, and all that matters is the warmth of his body against yours and the soothing sound of his breathing. 

The soft glow of the TV illuminates his features, casting shadows across his face and highlighting the curve of his lips as he smiles at something on the screen. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath, a reassuring rhythm that lulls you into a sense of peace. 

It's a moment of pure intimacy, where words are unnecessary, and the silence speaks volumes. Like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together, you and Leon are in perfect harmony, comfortable in each other's presence.

He hums occasionally as your fingernails scratch his scalp; the softness of his hair slipping between your fingers. You absent-mindedly start braiding his hair, your fingers weaving through the silky strands with practised ease. It's a small gesture of affection, one that Leon appreciates, and he lets out a contented sigh as you continue.

As you braid his hair, you feel Leon's hand reaching up to hold yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

"You know, I could get used to this," he says softly, his voice low and warm. 

You look down at him, a smile spreading across your face. 

"Used to what?"  

"This," he gestures towards the two of you, "just being here, like this. It's nice." 

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. 

"Yeah, it is."

[ambassadorarlert]

12 Days of Kelsmin 🎂

ambassadorarlert’s birthday event

5 — #1 cuddling after a long day

warnings: established relationship (husband/wife), domestic bliss, fluff, mentions of children + their given names + children swearing (bc it’s never not funny)

The nightly ritual of closing down the house and winding down for bed commenced as usual. Children were fed dinner at 6pm, chores and extra curricular activities were completed by 7:30pm, they were bathed and read to by 8:30pm. By the time the cluck struck nine, dreams had already started playing out. The routine went without incident, or complaint, or crying.

The same couldn’t be said for during the day. With four kids all close in ages a brawl would happen eventually, especially since three of which were girls. Hair pulling, pushing and shoving, false accusations on who stole what. It took all the patience in the world to gently yet firmly remind them all to keep their hands to themselves, or to not speak if they didn’t have anything nice to say at all. Clementine’s new catchphrase was “well, fuck!” Debriefing and reliving it made her head spin all over again.

But, Armin chuckled as he played with her hand and fingers. He kept his eyes closed as he listened to his wife’s day and his daughter's shenanigans. The sound of her voice accompanied by the beat of her heart brought him comfort and peace.

“Enough about my day. How was yours?” She asked.

It was her choice to not go into politics. Instead, she decided to stay home with their children. Armin couldn’t imagine her doing his job— mountains of paperwork, files to be read and agreements to be signed, negotiating terms with other stuffy diplomats, sitting in meetings for hours and hours. Being an ambassador sounded more interesting than it actually was. She’d be bored out of her mind.

“At least you get to stay home.” Armin teased.

At the end of the, after Armin’s mind numbing conferences and her ears ringing from kids arguing with each other, at least they could come together like this. With Armin laying on her chest, her hands in his hair, relaxing in the quiet of their bedroom before the final hours of consciousness. Armin yawned.

© ambassadorarlert 2024 all rights reserved. do not reupload or translate any content that is labeled to be written by ‘ambassadorarlert’ on any other platform.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖⛵🐑 thank you <3

there’s not enough work for my my man wojchek out there.

In This Moment, We Could Crash Together - Wojchek/Reader

Warnings: Female reader, no use of Y/N, fluff.

Wordcount: 1540

Summary: He was only with you for a short while, but maybe you could keep him if he let himself keep you.

Notes: I was going to attempt sleep again but I cannot resist my jolly sailor bold 🥰 Wojchek was the first character I actually shipped with, back when I was slowly falling in love with DD and the few roles I'd seen, so I kinda waxed poetic with this one 🥰 thank you sosososo much for sending this one right before bed, I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

You sometimes wondered what he was like when he was out at sea on the Demeter, when he was the captain of his own ship and everyone followed his every command. You could only guess as you watched him give orders from the windows of your dockside home or from the busy street down below, everyone bustling around like ants and keeping you from getting too close. You only truly knew what he was like in moments like this, when he made port for a day or two to rest and resupply, never back for longer than a week.

The two of you were currently on your bed, his long body draped between your skirt-trapped legs as he rested in your lap, your idle hands carding through his long hair as he slept.

He was always tired when he returned home, never showing it in the early days as he courted you with all the confidence of a man who knew the sea but not love, but now that you’d been together a few years he let you see this side of himself more often, not afraid to appear weak or vulnerable in front of you anymore. It made your heart soar every time he trusted you enough to close his eyes a moment, to relax on solid ground where it made him miss the ebb and flow of the waves, the unpredictability of the sea always bringing around the uncertainty of when he’d return to you next.

He didn’t have a home of his own other than the Demeter, and before he’d met you he used to sleep on board, not wanting to waste the money on a room when it could be used for better things, the promotion to captain giving him someplace more private for the first time in years. When you’d suggested he stay with you after a few months of meeting in the alleys along the docks he’d refused at first, for to spend one night would make this feel real, permanent, a temptation to stay. You promised him then that you’d never make him choose, you could never, knowing of his first love and how you could never compare to her, your eyes barely holding in your tears as he’d then lifted your hands to his lips and pressed soft kisses to your knuckles as he told you that the sea wasn’t his only love anymore.

He had no possessions to leave with you, nor any guarantees that he would return sooner than a month, if at all, most of the time, the two of you just needing to trust that he knew what he was doing and that his crew would help him finish the voyage. When he left and you were alone in your flat once more there were never any traces of him there to remind you of him, nothing but the memory of seeing him in all the places he no longer was. Over time it became painful to watch him walk out your door so you’d started standing on the docks just to be able to hold him for a few seconds longer, and each time you parted you felt like he was talking a part of you with him as you watched the Demeter sail away until it was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

Neither of you spoke openly of love after that first time, but you knew deep in your heart that you were in love with him every time he returned back to you, arms open and waiting for you to rush back to him before time could tear you apart again.

He stirred but didn’t wake as you brushed the backs of your fingers tenderly over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble and wishing you could kiss him, but to attempt to do so would disturb him and that was the last thing you wanted. He usually dreamed so fitfully when he was on land but today he was calm, the two of you choosing this location since your old couch was too small for him to stretch out on even by himself, and as soon as you’d pulled him down to situate himself he’d almost instantly fallen asleep. It must’ve been a rough voyage for him to be this exhausted, chest rising and falling under his hands as they rested over his torso, the sight almost hypnotizingly rhythmic as you watched him.

Eventually you did have to wake him, though, your stomach grumbling against your will and rousing him from sleep before you could give him just a few more minutes. The sun had set a while ago now, the warm breeze carried from the water growing cold and making you shiver but he hadn’t noticed, used to it after so many years. He looked around before his eyes became adjusted to the dark, you weren’t able to light any candles with him laying on you after all, his head falling back against your stomach as he remembered where he was.

He mumbled something in his native language as he watched you, a small smile on your lips as you brushed your hair out of your eye in embarrassment. ‘I don’t understand,’ you admitted, his hand reaching up to caress you the same way you’d done to him.

‘I said, “you’re so beautiful,”’ he repeated in English, your cheeks flushing at the sudden sentimentality. It wouldn’t be proper to tell him how beautiful you thought he was in return, even though it was true, settling for handsome as you leaned forward until you could press a kiss to his forehead; you were stopped from sitting back up as his hand then found the back of your neck, keeping you close long enough to give you the kiss you’d been wanting, like he’d been able to hear your desires even in his sleep. ‘We make way for Barcelona tomorrow,’ he reminded you even more suddenly than his sentimentality, your faces still so close that you couldn’t even attempt to hide how you felt from him.

‘It’s so far…’ You hated the jobs that brought him away from you for more than a month, several weeks needed to get there, let alone return.

‘You promised to never make me choose,’ he reminded you, voice low but not upset, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you sat back against your pillows.

‘I won’t,’ you reassured him, but still he pushed himself up to sit and look at you.

‘It won’t be as long as last time,’ he said, already knowing down to the day how long it would take, the markings of a great captain. It filled you with pride to think about it but still you wished you could go with him just once, just so the wait wouldn’t have to feel like an eternity. You could never share that secret desire though, it would be too much to ask for from him, so you can only look away, stay silent. He shifted himself over your leg so he could crawl up to the pillows, now laying beside you as you were the one to be lowered against his chest, his arms, toned and tanned from many years of rising in the ranks until he was where he was now, wrapping around you and reminding you that he was still there, he wasn’t leaving just yet.

His hands were rough from a lifetime of labour but they still touched your cheek so softly it felt like an ocean breeze, his breathing calm as you gave in, got comfortable against him, your hunger forgotten as you mesh together effortlessly. You played with one of the holes in his shirt as he brushed your hair out of your face, mirroring you without realizing in a way that only a lover can, and when you try to hold his hand he brings it up to his lips, kisses each knuckle before hesitating on your bare ring finger.

Your hands found a place on his lap, his thumb running over the space and drawing your attention to it, the topic of the future just as elusive as the one of love in the days you were able to spend together, that silence finally broken as he laced his fingers together with yours. ‘When we leave tomorrow, do not follow me to say goodbye,’ he whispered, your heart aching as your body started to tremble. ‘Do not say goodbye, but come with me, let me introduce you to my second love.’

‘I thought I was your second,’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself, and he smiled with the shine of the sun in his eyes as he tilted your head up towards his own. ‘What about the crew?’

‘If they have a problem with you, I’ll throw them over myself,’ he promised, his expression making you feel like you could believe in him, in this. ‘Kocham cię,’ he then told you gently, your eyes closing even though you didn’t understand.

‘What does that mean?’ you asked, his lips just a breath out of reach before he closed the final gap, the translation still on his tongue as he kissed you.

‘I love you.’

[thedrotter]

(cw for a gun, mild blood and suicide in the last drawing.)

Day 1-5 of drawing Re:Kinder daily for a whole month! I'll be doing that all month. ☺️

I did not draw Re:Kinder enough (said both sarcastically and genuinely, because while I know the statement is ridiculous I also do believe it www), so I chose to challenge myself. I will post these every 5 days to not clog the tag too much.

[obsessedwhyyes]

hi!!! I miss your writing (and i love love it)!!! you’re one of my favorite fanfic writers :))) just wanted you to know.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen you on my timeline ✨

AAAHH THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥹❤️

Oh my goodness, this was a wonderful message to wake up to this morning. This means the world to hear!! I'm still adjusting to the idea that people even like/read my writing, let alone that I might be one of someone's favourites. You are so sweet ❤️

I've got six WIPs on the way shortly! These include:

A Tale of Fools and Tricksters, a mystic circus AU with Astarion and an F!OC. Hopefully this'll be up on Halloween 😁

Bending Steel, my first M/M fic in which the male OC is a big, burly man with a very traditional view of strength, but it turns out he just needed an Astarion to show him that strength comes in many forms.

Schadenfreude, which will be pure degenerate filth, but filth in which both parties discuss preferences and boundaries before trying something new.

A short, simple bit of tooth rotting fluff about hand holding, called simply, Touch. The title didn't need any of my usual pretense.

The Learned Observer, my response to a fic request I just received. Voyeurism, from Gale's POV (first person).

True Alchemy, part 3 of The Scientific Method series.

[popponn]

like what if it's like in christmas movies, you are a career woman who is sick of everyone trying to get you a boyfriend. but itoshi sae is also sick of getting question about his relationship status, not exactly the guy with bright smiles who will change your mind about relationships.

nonetheless, somehow the two of you ended up on a dinner together and walked out with not a relationship, but instead a plan and a timeline of a fake relationship for a year. the first month is secret dates that somehow always ended up getting caught red handed by rin—or victim a; third month is moving in; then starting from the eleventh month it will be where the relationship is facing problems. then at the twelfth, the two of will break up and go on with a wound so deep that a new relationship will be impossible for the two of you for a while. it's a plan that you offered with a customer service smile and sae accepted because he is just sick of it all.

and then chats in between the meals happened, sae making sure no one touched in the part happened, sharing black coffee every morning happened, you finding sae's habits and such oddly adorable happened, and sae finding that whatever he is having with you is not bad at all. the oh moment hit. the staring at your back silently with wide eyes moment hit.

so at the ninth month, you decide to sped up the plan a little bit and tell him you will move out. you start this as a mature adult, so you will walk out before you no longer have the will to be one in front of him.

sae is like those christmas movies heroine in some ways. i no longer remember what sort of thought convinced me last 3 am but. he is. and he is a funny guy who i cant think of doing anything if it doesnt benefit his soccer career while also being the guy i really like to put in a domestic setting. probably because he is a family guy in some way???? (honestly i dont know) and then there is my recent obsession with ' i didnt mean to fall in love with you' kinda beat which go hand in hand with fake lovers. i really want this to be fluff full of moments shared together along with the crashing realization (that came twice) of "oh" moment from fake lovers trope. and. yeah im definitely confused but i think i got the spirit.