#ship: comes and goes in waves | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plaguedocboi · 1 year

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We all love the beach, right? I sure do. Where the sea meets the land is a magical place. It is the overlap of two very different worlds; our sunny, sandy, beautiful home and the alien waves that beckon you into the inhospitable wilderness of the ocean. When crossing that foam-fringed boundary, one must remember that you are no longer in your world. You are entering the sea, and the sea is vast and dark and dangerous. It is more untamed than the wildest jungle and full of creatures that can kill you in a hundred different gruesome ways. Every wave whispers to you that you do not belong here, you may only visit for a brief time if you want to leave with your life. Hold tight to the warm sunlit sand that fringes the barrier of this place, or you may never see it again. Welcome to the beach. Enter at your own risk.

1. Tamarama beach, Australia

This is know as both the smallest and the most dangerous beach in NSW. There is a permanent rip current that runs along the rocky northern shore, but at any given time there could be more hidden in the surf. Large waves break just a little ways offshore, posing a hazard to swimmers but an attraction for surfers. Although there are rarely deaths here, lifeguards have to rescue multiple people a day. Interestingly, this beach is only around sometimes! Occasionally all the sand will wash away and all that’s left is a rocky outcrop. There’s no way to be certain when the beach will come back or how big it will be or what it might look like. I guess it never gets boring to visit.

2. Isle of Ré, France

This island is not the only place you can go to see square waves, but it is one of the places most famous for this strange phenomenon. This is called a cross sea, and occurs when two opposing wave patterns intersect. Although this is certainly a tourist attraction, it is best to observe from a distance, as cross seas can be very dangerous to both ships and swimmers. Cross seas can cause powerful rip currents and walls of water up to 10 feet high, rolling ships and dragging people underwater. (As a side note, my mother thought I had made up cross seas as a freaky supernatural event in my book. Unfortunately, I did not.)

3. Dumas Beach, India

This is supposedly one of the most haunted places in India. Although this beach is full of tourists during the daytime, no one remains after dark, for fear that they will become the next ghost to wander the sand. Apparently, this beach was once used as a burial ground, and said to be black due to the human ashes mixed in. At night, people report hearing voices and seeing apparitions, and even dogs behave strangely once the sun goes down. There have also been multiple unexplained disappearances and at least one recorded death. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, there definitely seems to be something eerie happening on this beach.

4. Morecambe Bay, UK

This is an interesting one, as it’s not technically the water that’s dangerous. The ground is. This estuary features extreme tides, with the water level dropping and rising up to 32 feet twice a day. This exposes an expanse of mud flats and channels which are composed of loose, wet material that can absolutely suck you in and trap you. If this happens when the tide is coming in, it can quickly turn deadly. This has happened many times going back through history, including one incident in 2004 where 23 people died. Yes, all at the same time. No, I don’t want to delve into that incident too deeply in this list as it’s extremely horrifying and tragic. Feel free to research it yourself.

5. Monastery Beach, Oregon

This has earned its nickname “mortuary beach” by being extremely dangerous. Over 30 people have died here, including people who weren’t even in the water. In 2015, a woman walking along the beach was dragged in by a wave and drowned. The beach has multiple factors that make it so deadly, including a steep drop off, unpredictable waves, and strong undertows. This beach isn’t even safe to walk on. I um. Don’t like that.

6. Hanakapiai Beach, Hawaii

Despite its beauty, this Hawaiian beach is not recommended for swimming except for expert surfers. During the summer, this beach is a popular place for hiking, sunbathing and sightseeing, but during the winter the sand is washed away and the waves crash against the cliffs directly. Even in the relatively safe summer months, this beach has no barrier reef to break up the strong waves and powerful currents, which leads to a dangerous situation where swimmers can quickly be swept out into the open ocean and drown. At least 30 people have died here, and 15 of the bodies have never been recovered.

7. Lake Michigan. Just, all of it.

Despite all the Great Lakes being somewhat terrifying, Michigan takes the title of the most dangerous lake in the country. Yearly, Lake Michigan has more drownings than all four other Great Lakes combined. The reason that Michigan is especially hazardous is that, well, it’s kind of weirdly shaped. Thanks to its 300+ miles of uninterrupted parallel shorelines running north-south, it forms huge waves and strong riptides and long shore currents. It is also a question of numbers; Lake Michigan has more public beaches and large population centers than the other Great Lakes. All in all, a recipe for disaster.

8. Playa Zipolite, Mexico

This is also called the “beach of the dead”, so it’s inclusion on this list seems pretty self-explanatory. These waters have strong undercurrents that rotate in a circular pattern, either pushing you into shore or pulling you out to sea. There is a pervasive rumor that 50 people drown at this beach a year, although this is… somewhat exaggerated. In fact, very few people drown at this beach these days, as it has actually gotten less dangerous over the years. There used to be a steep drop-off that would catch people by surprise, but due to several severe storms in the early 2000s, the beach has eroded back and now gently slopes down instead. Although very few people die at this beach nowadays, multiple rescues are performed every day due to the dangerous currents.

9. Cyclops, Australia

This is a particular type of wave that forms off the coast of Esperance, Australia, as the sea floor rapidly goes from deep, open water to a very very shallow reef. It is… unsettling. The longer I look at it, the weirder it gets. It’s like an ai generated image. I couldn’t even pick one picture of it so I made you a collage.

It is considered one of the most dangerous surf spots in the world, and can only be accessed by boat. To quote pacific surf dot com, “the reason the wave is dangerous is because it does not act like any other wave in the world. It engulfs itself due to the massive change in the ocean floor when the wave rolls up.”

10. Nazare, Portugal

This area of Portugal is home to some of the biggest waves in the world. Just offshore is an underwater canyon, plunging down to 16,000 ft deep. This allows large, fast deep-water waves to move into shore unimpeded, and when they hit the shallows close to shore all the water gets suddenly pushed up, resulting in waves up to 80 ft tall. I think the picture speaks for itself in this case. Probably best to not get in the water if you see that shit.

That was fun, wasn’t it? Before I go, let me end this on a different note than the rest of my lists; some actual advice for if you should you ever decide to visit these beaches (or any beach, really). Rip currents are incredibly strong (believe me, I know) but very narrow currents that run perpendicular to shore. To get out of a rip current, swim parallel to shore. Trying to fight the current will just tire you out and eventually leave you exhausted and way the fuck out in the ocean, which is typically when you die. Swimming parallel to shore will get you out of the current, and once you’re free you can swim back in at your leisure. And, just in general, never fight the sea. The sea will win.

#water rating #bathophobia #thalassophobia #long post

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sol-thorne-shitpost · 1 year

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Still reading the Odyssey. How have I never seen anyone bring up a headcanon that Odysseus becomes scared shitless of the ocean after finally coming home to Ithaca? I'm talking mental-breakdown inducing phobia.

The man has spent TEN YEARS lost at sea. Each time he reached land, Poseidon was here to try to drown him. His twelve ships with six hundred men sunk. And later on, when Alcinoos' men sailed him back to Ithaca, Poseidon sunk that ship too. It just never ends. Odysseus has seen hundreds of men, friends, die at sea, he's been whipped by waves, choked by salt, he faced Charybdis on his own, nearly drowned more times than he can count, all of this to finally reach home knowing his journey has drowned hundreds of innocent people.

I'm telling you he'd never heal from that shit. After he finally reclaims the throne of Ithaca, maybe Telemachus mentions that some of his father's old friends are still waiting for news of him, that Nestor has no idea he managed to go home and that Menelaus weeps whenever he thinks of him.

So Odysseus agrees to follow his son to Pylos and Sparta, having to sail across the sea once again, and although the trip goes smoothly it's a living nightmare for Odysseus. The moment the ship departs, he prays Poseidon with all his might, begging him to spare his son. He can't stop puking and crying, choking on his own erratic breath, hallucinating and going paranoid. For a few days Telemachus really thinks he's fallen ill. The trip back is just as terrible and Telemachus has no idea how to comfort his father or to make him understand that the seas are safe for him now, as well as for all the people who travel with him.

Yet another reason why Odysseus needs to spend the rest of his life in a Penelope/Diomedes sandwich hug, I rest my case.

#sol brainrot hours #odyssey #the odyssey #odysseus #greek mythology #epic the musical #please save this poor man he's seen so much shit #I physically relish in the thoughts of him being comforted by hugs. Hugs for Odysseus everyone.

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caesium-55 · 29 days

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—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

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sixosix · 6 months

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can i go where you go? | kaedehara kazuha

warnings 2.2k words, lots of kissing… like srsly, pure fluff, kazuha is a cutie, not a slick cutie though, friends to lovers!!

or, three times Kazuha keeps kissing you on ‘accident’.

The first time Kazuha kissed you, it was on Beidou’s ship.

You're only partially awake, your eyelids heavy, and you move with a slow, languid pace as Kazuha escorts you towards The Alcor. The wind hums as it caresses the sails, accompanied by the lively shouts and cheers of the crew on board.

“So early,” you mutter, sighing. “Too early. Sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It will be, soon,” Kazuha says, smiling at you in the same way that he always does. Tender, as comforting as the ocean pooling on your feet as you walk by the shore. “You mentioned you wanted to meet the Captain, didn’t you? Tilt your head a little.” Although he says it, his finger comes to your chin and gently directs your gaze himself.

He’s gesturing to the woman standing at the quarterdeck, her hands resting on her hips and her shoulders remarkably broad. She turns as if hearing Kazuha’s soft voice amidst the boisterous chatter. Your jaw goes slack in awe, excitement washing away the last traces of fatigue tugging your bones as everything you’ve heard about Captain Beidou from Kazuha comes rushing back.

Kazuha steadies you with a hand on the small of your back as your knees falter when climbing the ship.

“Captain Beidou!” You bow deeply, lowering your head to your waist, arms outstretched to offer her the sake and the sakura mochi you made the night before—which cost you sleep, but it is worth more than anything when you get to gift the woman who took care of your best friend when you couldn’t. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along. Please take this.”

Kazuha and Beidou glance at each other in surprise.

Kazuha starts, “You didn’t have—”

“No,” you say, firm. “This is the least I can do. Don’t try, Kazuha.”

Kazuha’s expression eases to a smile. “Alright.”

“I like this one, Kazuha,” Beidou says, ruffling your hair, and leaving stray strands on your head. She grins at you, all wide and wild. “Where’s he been hiding ya, huh, kid?”

“Somewhere in Inazuma.”

She laughs; it sounds like the roaring waves of the ocean. “Thank you. I’ll share it with my crew.” She turns, looking at you over her shoulder. You feel the hair on your arms rise to attention. “Let me know if you need anything, but Kazuha probably will see to it faster than any of us could.”

You’re not exactly sure what she means, though you can pick up on the knowing smirk she throws at your best friend.

“Men, to your posts!” she orders. Kazuha takes it as a cue to take your hand and lead you somewhere far more secluded.

No one’s watching; at least, not to your knowledge. The crew knows well enough they have their own business to attend to, and that no one should be interrupting Kaedehara Kazuha when catching up with his best friend since childhood, you.

Kazuha is a wanderer first and foremost. He does not like to be tied down to one place—he’d itch and wander off if you try to keep him at bay. However, there is one exception; one that has him visiting his homeland whenever he can, even when he is dangerously most sought after. When the wind subsides to a gentle whisper in his ears, the waves are gentle when splashing against the ship, and the crew is fast asleep, Kazuha finds himself stealing glances in the general direction of Inazuma. He knows you’re likely sleeping soundly there, expecting him.

This is what gets him to bring home whatever he may find along the way just to give them to you. If anyone asks, Kazuha would reply with a vague: “For someone special to me, in my land of birth.” Anyone would have guessed that, though, given the assortment of flowers Kazuha never fails to bring home.

You find yourself swaying back and forth along with the ship, your mouth running miles per minute as you talk to him on and on about how you’ve never been to Liyue before and your hands are shaking from excitement—or perhaps nerves, and how is Kazuha looking so calm and why is he smiling at you weirdly?

Kazuha has that fond look in the crinkle of his eyes. “Are you certain you’re not feeling sick? Lightheaded?”

Although the heavy rocking of the ship is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you only feel the anticipation. Thrill. You’ve seen glimpses of Liyue from the letters Kazuha sends; you’re positive nothing can compare to the real deal, and that is what has you giddy, kicking your legs against the wood.

The early morning air crept beneath your clothes and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder; Kazuha leans against you, the warmth of his body relaxing you immediately.

The world falls completely silent as you gaze at him.

“Kazuha,” you breathe out, eyes round with wonder, “thank you for taking me with you.” Kazuha goes still as you brush a stray of hair away from your face a little shyly. “It probably doesn’t mean much because you’re always traveling, and it’s probably such a hassle to be my tour guide, but I’m—mmph.”

The rest of your words are swallowed by Kazuha’s lips, and you, undoubtedly silenced by the press of his soft lips against yours. You have your eyes wide open, frozen as you watch the sunrise from the horizon over Kazuha’s shoulder, casting him an unreal golden glow.

Kazuha quickly pulls back and looks as startled as you feel. The kiss was about half a second, and it took nearly a minute for the both of you to process what had just happened.

He frowns, though it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Sorry,” he says slowly, as though he’s just been brought back up from underwater. “That was—”

“It’s fine,” you blurt, hoping the sunrise would disguise your stunned expression. “The ship—uh, it’s swaying pretty hard. You probably lost balance or something.” However, speaking it aloud sounds wrong. Kazuha just doesn’t lose balance: he’s the most seasoned samurai you’ve met in your life.

Then again, that would leave an empty room of explanation, one of which you’d rather not set foot in.

“Yes.” The sunrise has Kazuha looking a little pink. Or should it be orange? “Allow me to fetch us a bottle of water. You might get seasick.”

“Sure,” you murmur, though it’s lost to the howl of the wind as Kazuha swiftly jumps down, his Vision glowing on his back. The sensation in your stomach doesn’t seem like seasickness.

He doesn’t talk about it, so you don’t bring it up.

The second time happens in public.

The moment you set foot in Liyue Harbor, Kazuha realizes he must reach for your wrist to prevent you from straying and getting lost. You dart from one corner to the next, exploring every stall, even stray dogs and running children.

“Liyue feels so…warm.”

It could be the orange glow of their lights, painting over the region with an unbeatable shade and atmosphere, perfectly replicating what it would be like sitting across a fireplace. Or it could be Kazuha’s hand intertwined with yours.

“Hearing that relieves me,” Kazuha admits, pulling you to the side as two men pushing crates on wheels rush past. “You are often unpredictable in what you like and dislike.”

You laugh, “Were you worried that you overhyped it? You tend to be descriptive with what you write back to me—what was it? The flavorful aroma coming from street vendors, the squeals of youth whistling past, the seagulls, and the waves of the ocean audible even amidst the bustling crowds… I can see it.”

“You remember all of that?” Kazuha looks adorable when bashful.

The sun is already at its highest peak. Sweat has started to form around your hairline; Kazuha had to buy you popsicles, which you got from the Wanmin Restaurant. The popsicle is entirely blue, nearly translucent, and tastes like eating just ice, but it effectively cools you down. Kazuha doesn’t appear bothered by the heat in the slightest, going as far as to insist on carrying all the souvenirs you’ve been purchasing.

He has only one arm full, though. The other is free and linked with yours.

“You didn’t tell me one important thing, though,” you say.

Kazuha blinks once, then furrows his brows. “What is it?” He looks sincerely worried.

“You didn’t tell me you’re famous,” you tease, nudging a red-faced Kazuha with your elbow. “Oh, it’s Kaedehara, you’re back! And here I thought you were like a celebrity in Inazuma. You might just be well-loved everywhere.” Well, who could blame them? You’re no better than the people of Teyvat.

He shakes his head. “Far from it,” he insists, ever the modest guy. “I just happen to be caught up with The Crux.”

“Those ladies seem to disagree. They were trying to impress you, you know.”

Kazuha shifts uncomfortably, his face a funny shade of pink. “I did not pay close enough attention. I apologize.”

A laugh escapes you, in disbelief. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“I did not realize you were the jealous type.”

You gawk at his words, spinning around to see that a hint of something smug playing on his lips. “That’s not—You… shut up. I’m not.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something stupid to fluster you probably, but you’re quicker. You retrieve a container wrapped in plastic, its surface moist from the steam within. Kazuha falls silent, his watchful gaze fixed on you as you unwrap it, his nose undoubtedly detecting a familiar and enticing aroma.

“This is…” Kazuha picks one stick up and observes it. “Mondstadt Grilled Fish.”

“Yes,” you say, grinning proudly. “One of your favorites. You sent me the recipe last year, remember? Kept practicing it for this moment.”

But Kazuha’s heavy gaze is not on the food, but on you, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes. The tension disappears when he smiles and takes a bite. You watch him enjoy his food in peace, belatedly deciding to do the same. You know you did good but Kazuha didn’t have to look like he’s in bliss, eyes closed and everything.

“Thank you,” he says. “You keep surprising me. This was meant to be a day for you.”

“You here with me is enough to make all my days,” you say, mouth full of fish grilled to perfection. Embarrassingly enough, there are crumbs that spew out. You take another big bite, crumbs of it sticking to the sides of your mouth.

You must look a little stupid, tucked in some corner of Liyue, standing next to Kazuha and eating grilled fish silently.

Your field of vision is abruptly engulfed by Kazuha's face. You have barely time to react, your body falling still as your attention is swallowed by the red of his eyes, which are focused on your mouth. You feel warmth press against the side of your mouth, your heart leaping to your throat at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking at all sorry. “You had crumbs on your face.” Which does not explain why he has to kiss it off, but it was at this moment that you understand. Kazuha doesn’t lose balance and doesn’t do anything by mistake.

The dam crumbles.

The third happens when the night is creeping in on your first day, in some inn you didn’t bother looking at, too caught up in the way Kazuha is grinning at you in his own Kazuha-way: all soft and sweet.

“I can’t… believe—how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “It wasn’t a grand revelation that happened one night. It just felt as if it was the only explanation.” His eyes flicker to you, keeping your faces close enough to where your noses are touching. He’s waiting for an answer.

“I had a crush on you the moment we met,” you confess, face hot. “And then it never went away, even when you had to leave. Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

Kazuha’s smile tips on something a little more sly. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, then.”

Years and years of longing for Kazuha, rereading each and every one of his letters, and cherishing every second of when he comes to visit—all of it’s more than worth it if it led you here, in a secluded room, sharing hushed whispers with the boy you’ve wanted all your life.

“So… what are we—”

You’re rudely interrupted by Kazuha pecking your lips.

You frown. “Hey, wait, I’m—mmph—trying to—Kazuha!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he tugs you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, but he’s leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin as you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whisper in the quiet of the night, in the steady silence occasionally broken by the beating of your hearts. “It was an accident.”

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “An accident.”

You stare at each other for a pregnant pause.

“This one isn’t, though,” Kazuha says and dives in for a kiss that leaves you breathless, years and years of buried feelings pouring over.

this was supposed to be for kazuha’s bday but i couldn't finish it in time :(!!! belated happy birthday to the greenest flag ever <3

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha fluff #kazuha fluff #genshin fluff

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sleepymarimo · 5 months

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𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

summary: one time zoro pushes your affections away and another time when he begrudgingly accepts them. pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: none, zoro being a cutie and confused about soft feelings an: just some fluff bc I have a headache and I wanna give him a hug :( wc: 1.2k

it seemed like zoro had always let the oddest things to happen to him.

he’d let chopper climb atop his head, tiny hooves brushing through strands of moss green hair. when the reindeer’s soft fur tickled the skin of his cheeks, he didn’t blink.

he’d let usopp cling to him in fear, idly looking around with a bored expression as the sniper tugged at his hakama or pushed him right toward whatever threat lay before them.

the list goes on and on, the ever stoic swordsman never really putting in the effort to actively resist his crew mates or the occasional curious animal.

with that in mind, you figured that you’d be able to get away with some gestures of your own.

after a particularly rough battle, you’d been so utterly happy that your arms wrapped around the rugged swordsman, squeezing him tight.

you blame it on the adrenaline, not those pesky feelings of yours that you refuse to acknowledge.

it was an innocent embrace, imbued with nothing but affection and glee, yet that didn’t stop him from tensing at your touch.

the next thing you remember is being pushed away, gently but firmly, and feeling dumbfounded.

“the hell are you doing?” he had roughly questioned, brushing off your much-too-sweet touches from his person.

uncomfortable.

he was uncomfortable and he hated it, not particularly fond of feeling so vulnerable from something as simple as a damn hug.

looking between him and your still awkwardly stretched out arms, you come to a sort of realization.

zoro didn’t just let things happen to him. no, he allowed them. every touch and tug and pinch was permitted, actively decided upon by the marimo.

that fiasco was almost a whole week ago, the thousand sunny now barreling through the rolling waves of the sea in the hopes of reaching a winter island.

even as the air became colder, the clouds darker, you continued to simmer.

unjustifiable annoyance creeps into your brain just thinking about how he pushed you away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and hurt alike.

he didn’t feel that bad.

the swordsman had boundaries, which was understandable, set in place for the sake of self-preservation.

that small flip his heart did when he felt you hug him? the boiling heat that clawed up from his chest to his cheeks and to the tips of his ears? absolutely not.

he didn’t want to deal with that, especially after a fight and with the rest of the crew watching.

it took time for you to adjust your actions, to maneuver around the barriers he’d set in place for himself.

being the stubborn little thing you were, you decided to throw yourself into the jaws of the tiger once more.

you try your luck on a brumal morning, a light frost already starting to form on the deck. it seems like the water is still, the sea easily parting as the ship effortlessly glides on its surface.

the observation deck is your destination, where you’re sure the marimo will be.

and indeed he is, outwardly unaffected by the biting cold.

meticulous as ever, at least when it comes to his craft, he sits on a mat and polishes his blades. shoulders relaxed, but eyes sharp, he goes about his task with precision.

he knows you’ve just entered the observation room, thinking that a nod of his head and a small grunt is enough of a greeting.

the scent of steel and polish hang in the air as he continues, figuring that you’d come in to grab something.

he doesn’t expect to be what you want. what else was he good for besides swinging a damn sword around?

you mask your nerves and step inside, taking brisk steps towards the swordsman. it’s now or never, you think, quick to take a seat behind him on the mat.

with slow and gentle movements, you situate yourself into your preferred position.

your chest presses into his back, the rough material of his shirt not enough to keep you from resting your cheek there.

your inner thighs hug his outer ones, the firmness of the muscle beneath forcing you to hold back a shudder. sealing the deal, you loosely wrap your arms around his midsection.

“good morning.” you mumble, speaking to him as if he were a deer about to bolt.

silence is what you get in return and you wish you could peer into that thick skull of his to see what he was thinking.

warm.

that’s how zoro feels at first, before something akin to discomfort starts to gnaw away at him.

his hands come to a stop, his head lifting as he stared ahead and processed just what the hell you were doing.

there’s a split second of stillness- a period of time where he decides if he wants to revel in your touch or bask in his solitude for a moment longer.

it feels like eons pass before the tension is broken, fizzling into nothing as if it didn’t exist in the first place.

his hands resume their task of polishing his prized swords. the muscles in his body relax and everything else suddenly melts away.

he grants you permission.

he allows it.

“morning.” he grumbles back, speaking with an air of nonchalance that contrasted with how fast his mind was racing.

it’s a delicate balance, as frail as the thin layer of ice starting to form on the glass windows.

you know now more than ever to hold off on the banter and teasing, unless you wanted to get bucked off.

taking what you’ve been given, you’re content enough with releasing a deep breath and letting the rise and fall of his back lull you into a light doze.

time seems to pass slower in this world, in this little pocket of tranquility which exists only for the two of you.

when you finally decide to loosen your grip and pull away, he lets out a noise equivalent to a growl.

he’s almost offended.

one of his hands holds your wrist in place, his grip firm. he’s never been good at displaying tenderness, his words unintentionally gruff. “oi, where are ya goin’?”

he releases your arm, almost daring you to defy him. his muscles relax once more, calloused hands resuming the tedious task of polishing steel as he picks up his next sword.

his tone is softer, spoken as a mumble as if he was afraid of saying too much. “just stay a little longer.”

the request has you momentarily astonished, eyes widening a tad before you got a grip on yourself. your arms settle back around his waist, a pleasant buzz spreading in your chest and down to your toes.

you were well aware that this was a rare opportunity, one that you could not and would not pass up.

so, you let out a sigh and rest your cheek on his back once more.

his aura seems to encapsulate you, making you feel safe and at ease.

he’s satisfied with your reaction, how you effortlessly unwind and how your breaths even out.

once again, he’s warm.

zoro decides that he can spend hours just like this.

for the crew, he could always be a demon. for you? he wouldn't mind being a bit more human.

#one piece fluff #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader

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rweoutofthewoods · 2 months

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fanfic/fandom ettiquite guide

Okay, I've seen some things recently that make me think there is some need to make a master post of some general fandom and fic ettiquite just because some people may not know and I think there's a huge wave of fanfic becoming more mainstream especially on apps like tiktok.

If you don't like it, don't engage with it!! I think this above all, is the golden rule of fandom. The internet is made for you to be able to mute, hide, and censor things you don't like. DO THAT! don't make a career off of hating things. This goes along with the three laws of fandom, which u should check out FIRST OF ALL.

DON'T GATEKEEP!! If you're posting about a fic, art, ANYTHING link it, credit it! Don't post a tiktok about a fic and then refuse to give the name. Not only are you failing to credit the creators of this content, but you're taking away from the fact that fandom is a COMMUNITY where content is meant for everyone.

Ao3 is an archive. You're going to see things you might not like or even find offensive or uncomfortable. But fanfic is not meant to be censored. Ao3 is made to be unfiltered, people can post anything and everything. Posting fics on other sites simply to shame their content not only brings MORE attention to it, but it's pointless. If you want a website that is censored go to wattpad. And of course, if you don't like it DON'T READ. You can filter your tags and warnings on ao3 so it won't show you that content.

Along those lines LEARN HOW TO USE AO3. There is no algorithm, it is not tiktok. You don't need to censor words in your tags. Your fics are not magically getting pushed out to people. Make sure you're using "person 1/person 2" for romantic relationships and "person 1 & person 2" for non-romantic relationships. Make sure things like non-con and underage are tagged under the warnings. AND AS A READER, know how to filter ships and tags to find the content you want. You can filter by kudos, certain tags, exclude certain relationships or characters etc. USE IT.

Do not create placeholder fics or other "non fics" on ao3. This is against their terms of service. You can (and probably will) be reported, this annoys people endlessly. We don't want to find a fic and open it to see "I haven't written this yet, sorry!" JUST SAVE A DRAFT OR DO IT IN A DOCUMENT? this seems like way to rack up hits, and it comes across as disingenuous, I don't see a real valid reason to make placeholders.

HOW TO WRITE AN ACCEPTABLE COMMENT: long is not important. A simple "loved this!" will make an author happy. DO NOT say any variation of "update pls?" regardless of how nice you think it is. Authors update when they can.I'm not the only author I've seen unhappy with this. JUST WAIT, either it will be updated or it won't, and either way you will live. If you have nothing nice to say about a fic?? MOVE ON. Don't leave a hate comment.

Do not rate or publicly shit on fanfic! A lot of authors know many people, and the chances of that author seeing whatever you're saying about their work is very high. If you don't like it, click off and read something else. If it's still living rent-free in your mind, that sounds like fan behavior to me. And there is no standard fics are supposed to meet, don't rate them.

Don't cross-post fics. Don't put fics on other sites, don't put translation on other sites. DON'T DO ANYTHING with a fic without checking with the author first. On that note, also don't post fics on GoodReads etc. unless an author explicitly says it's okay.

IF YOU DO NOT MARK YOUR BOOKMARKS AS PRIVATE AUTHORS CAN SEE THEM!! If you're going to say anything that isn't positive, you better mark that as private or better yet, move on. Don't say anything on a public bookmark you wouldn't want the author to read.

YOU CANNOT PROFIT OFF OF FANFIC, don't sell bound fics! Don't bind fics if the intention is to sell them. You're potentially creating a lawsuit for the authors of these fics and putting the existence of fanfic in danger. I've seen multiple authors debating taking fics down because of binding issues, just don't do it. AND IF YOU'RE BUYING BOUND FICS YOU'RE PART OF THE PROBLEM. it's selfish and I wish bad karma upon you.

You wouldn't think I'd have to say this but don't plagiarize or use AI to create fics/art etc. firstly making ai write something IS a form of plagiarism. bUT ALSO just write your own content. If you can't, then writing fics etc. is just not for you. No shame about it!

DON'T ASK AUTHORS TO BETA FOR YOU!! You wouldn't believe how many people have asked me to beta their fics for them, I AM NOT A BETA. I HAVE a beta because my proofreading skills are shit. If someone wants to beta they will offer, or go find a blog or somewhere where people are looking to beta. Like @needabeta You can even make a post asking around for a beta, but don't go bug your favorite authors to proofread your fics.

Really just don't harass authors. Of course, don't be afraid to send nice dms, asks, or comments if their inbox is open, but don't spam them especially if they don't reply. Respect boundaries! Don't send nasty anons, everyone knows this is a sign of jealousy and obsession. You're only succeeding in making yourself look bad. Ask yourself why is this author living rent-free in your mind, hm??

If you don't like a ship, stay away from the content geared towards that ship. There's no reason for you to be in people's inbox harassing them over a ship. It's never that deep. If you truly hate it so much, go consume the content for ships you DO like.

Stay grounded. This goes to both fic authors and readers alike. Hits and popularity are not the mark of a good fic. Getting a lot of hits doesn't mean it's good and NOT getting many doesn't mean it's bad. I'm tired of seeing tiktoks asking "so what's the next big fic?" WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A "BIG FIC"? go look through the ao3 tag and find something you like to read, it doesn't have to be what everyone else is reading.

Headcanons are not law. People can think whatever they want about the characters. If you disagree with someone's hc, just move on... and just because a headcanon is popular, doesn't mean everyone has to abide by it. Be creative!

Don't treat artists and authors like celebs! We're all in this together! We're all losers who like the same characters and ships. Of course, compliment and be kind to all creators because we put a lot of time and effort into creating fan content for you all, but don't worship anyone. Don't treat them weirdly or make a post like "omg x followed me!" that's a bit weird. If you want to be excited, dm your friends and giggle together, but acting like authors and artists etc. are celebs only creates the room for people to stop seeing them as normal people and start acting rude or entitled. And many people are uncomfortable with it!!

TLDR; stop creating so much negativity in fandom spaces. At least in MY fandom it's just constantly shitting on ships, fics, art. It's hate anons, antis, and constant fighting about every headcanon. I'M TIRED OF IT! Learn to filter out content you don't want to see, and move on with your life instead of spreading more negativity.

If you have anything you think I should add shoot me a comment or an ask and I will add it! I'm sure I didn't get everything :) this mostly applies to my own experience being in the hp/marauders fandom for a good 10+ years, and I'm sure it varies slightly from fandom to fandom.

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cyborg-franky · 17 days

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How do the boys (Zoro, Law, Kid and Ace) try to impress the girl they have a crush on? How do they act when their love is around? 👀💕

I have just had a week of being uncreative so I hope I didn't get too rusty. And I hope you enjoy this <3

I made it gender neurtral. Law x GN Reader Zoro x GN Reader Kid x GN Reader Ace x GN Reader

Law

He scoffs at the notion of showing off in front of anyone., let alone a crush. He’s not that kind of person. He doesn’t need to put on a show to impress you.

Law knows his superior intellect and amazing devil fruit are all he needs to impress you anyway.

Without realizing it, he’ll often info dump to you about the things he’s interested in, how to fix this bone, and how to treat that burn.

He’s the kind of guy who needs you to know he’s the most intelligent person in the room.

That doesn’t mean there's nothing there, his crush means alot to him, and he can come across as an asshole when they are standing there listening to him over-explaining things.

He knows you think he’s a fantastic fighter.

He doesn’t ask you what you thought of his moves, though. Instead, he listens intently to the chatter around the Tang, basking in your indirect praise and remembering what you liked about his performance the most. As long as you’re watching, he’ll aim to do better next time.

You are flattered he invites you to so many of his doctor duties, but you don’t need him to over explain taking blood, plus the needles, no thank you.

Zoro

Most of the time he’s not the type to go out of his way to impress anyone.

Maybe around his crush, he lifts heavier things, making sure their eyes are on him while he shows off.

But he’ll act like it’s nothing that he goes this hard every workout session.

When he’s resting, he flexes and gives you a little show.

Zoro thinks he’s smooth, but it’s really obvious to you.

How he smirked at your reaction when he picked up another weight seemingly effortlessly, though he could feel the strain.

He's the type of guy who is always lifting whenever his crush is around.

He was still acting nonchalant as you complimented his form, impressed with how much weight he was pressing.

He also loves to show off his sword techniques in front of you when a battle breaks out. His focus never wavers, but there is that little extra something he puts on just for you.

Kid

He’s a show-off, and he knows it. He gets louder and more volatile than usual. He has to make comments loudly to get your attention.

He works out in front of you whenever he gets a chance, putting on a theatrical display of his powers just for you. Not just in battle but as a general: Look what I can do! He claims he’s just fixing up the ship, but he needs your attention and praise as he swirls metal around in the sky, making things appear from thin air and turning junk into treasure.

“Get a load of this,” he barks, smirking as his metal arm grows. His massive fist clenches as he eyes you up, greedily absorbing every expression.

“Pretty fuckin’ impressive, huh?” Oh, you know he knows it is, but you humor him by agreeing. You see how he puffs up his chest proudly cackles as he sends junk flying, making sure you can see just how powerful he is.

Ace

Ace is strange, he’s both full of himself and lacks self confidence.

He’s on the striker, enjoying the nice weather and playing around with the waves, just needing off the main ship, doing tricks on his personal boat.

“Oh wow, Ace!” his attention snaps to you as you watch him.

That’s when he starts trying to impress you, knowing you like what you see. “Oh yeah? Check this out then!” He calls, a big grin on his freckled face. He uses his fire to power the striker, going faster and faster, fighting against the waves as he pulls off more complicated and challenging tricks, all for you.

His attention is always half on what he’s doing and how the expression on your face changes with each stunt, getting more daring.

He loves it, loves your claps, adores how you gasp, knowing you care about him. Everything goes to his head as the tricks get elaborate.

He always tries to show off whenever you're around from that day forward.

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jpitha · 6 months

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Do What it Takes

Everyone goes on and on about the humans, how strong they are, how dangerous their world is, their risk management (or lack thereof) and even their ability to process the rather worrying things they call “food.”

One thing I haven’t seen though is people discussing their… aspect that I find fascinating. They even have a word for it - grit. It’s this ability to take on unimaginable stress, and maintain that strength of resolve. That realization that the only thing they can do is endure. They even have a saying. “When you find yourself going through Hell, keep going.” Hell here is a substution for any kind of hard times they’re currently experiencing. It’s an idiom, don’t worry about the specific meaning of the word. The saying implies that if you’re “going through hell” then you need to keep going, because otherwise you won’t ever get out of the hard situation you find yourself in.

When it was first explained to me, a lot of what I saw about the humans snapped to place, like magnets on a table.

Once, back during the war I saw a single human shoulder a crew operated slug thrower and - by themselves - hold off an entire Zenni boarding party long enough for the rest of the ship to mount a defense. Not only did they shoulder and fire the weapon themselves, but they survived!

Others weren’t so lucky. I’ve heard tales of humans walking into active reactors to stop an overload, blinding themselves from ultraviolet radiation to repair a hull, and sustain withering gee forces to crush attackers. When asked why they’d do that, most of them replied that they just “did what they needed to” or that “they do what it takes.”

I’m not here to say that we can’t do that either. Having grit or strength of character isn’t solely a human development. But maybe as a result of the world they evolved on they tend to have grit in greater supply than other sapient species. They “do what it takes” because they’ve always had to do what it takes to survive.

A human friend has recently offered to take me to Earth, their homeworld to “see the sights.” His only warning about his own planet was that we should probably avoid some months. I asked why.

He waved his hand dismissively as if it was just a minor trifle, an inconvenience. “Oh, it’s hurricane season in the fall. I don’t know if you want to experience one of them.”

“What’s a hurricane?” I asked, cautiously.

“It’s a large storm that spins up over the ocean as the planets way to help remove some heat from the water. They can get pretty wild sometimes.”

When a human tells you that something can get “pretty wild” one’s fur tends to poof out.

I said I’d think about it, and went back to my cabin to research these Hurricanes. About an hour later I was shaking in my seat, glued to my pad watching video after video of houses just… disappearing in the wind and water.

The next day, I confronted him about the hurricanes. Once again, he was dismissive. “You get plenty of warning, and time to evacuate, they’re not that big of a deal.”

I bristled, and my ears twitched. “Not that big of a deal? But your homes get destroyed!”

He nodded. “True, that does happen. But, it’s not a surprise and we come prepared. You do what it takes if you want to live there.”

I think I’ll take him up on his offer.

#writing #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #sci fi writing #humans are space capybaras #humans and aliens #jpitha #humans are space australians

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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Familiar & Unfamiliar

din djarin x female!reader

warning: attempted sexual assault (not by our boy mando, and i don’t describe it in depth the furthest it goes is non-consensual kissing), light smut, angst then comfort, then fluff fluff fluff, identity theft, mentions of slave trade, canon violence, dom!din trying hard to be sub!din for you, he doesn’t succeed for long

word count: 4,174

Summary: You travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian who is much softer than his impenetrable beskar would lead others to believe. He leaves you with his son to search for a Quarry, but it’s not the Mando you’ve come to know and love who returns to you.

“It shouldn’t take long.” Mando hummed as he collected his gear from his weapon’s storage. You sat cross legged on the Razor Crest’s floor with the child in your lap. His small green hand played with the small, metal ball he seemed to always find. Your hand stroked his ears only stopping to push the ball away from his mouth when he began to try and chew on it. Mando turned around to stare down at you. “Will you be alright here?”

After traveling with the Mandalorian for the last two months, babysitting and completing repairs on the ship, you had finally grown accustomed to the silver beskar covered man. Initially it had been difficult for you to even look at the man for longer than a second⏤ too intimidated by the black t-shape visor that stared back at you. However, joining him had been your only option at the time, an act of self preservation, so you had to push your fear aside. Luckily, you had quickly learned that though the metal he was covered in was impossible to penetrate, the man underneath was as soft as they come.

You learned that the solemn, silent, and dangerous facade Mando wore was more or less an interpretation of what people saw. Yes, he was dangerous. You had seen him wrestle quarries three time his size and come out unscathed, but you had also seen him humming a song under his breath while giving the child a bath. You had seen Mando go out of his way to purchase you a new pair of boots in the market simply because he noticed your discomfort with your current pair. The brief times you felt his touch, a brush against your arm or a hand on your back, it was soft and comforting. His eyes were impossible to see behind his helmet, but you could feel the care in his gaze. Having Mando’s attention on you felt like safety.

Mando called out your name and you blinked in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah! We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I shouldn’t be gone long. Days at most.” He reassured before you could even ask. You stood up and Mando drifted closer⏤ his gloved hand reached out brush the child’s head. Mando chuckled when his son cooed and giggled in response. You heard a long time ago that the best judge of a person’s character was how they treated animals and children. Mando passed that test with flying colors. “You remember the rules?”

“Hmm, no running with scissors?” You joked. Mando tilted his head and you chuckled. “Don’t open the Razor Crest’s ramp for anyone but you, and if I do have to leave for some emergency, get to a crowded spot with plenty of witnesses and talk to no one. Not until you come for us.”

Mando nodded in approval. He gave the child’s head one last pet along the ears and as his hand pulled away you felt his leather covered fingers drag down the length of your bare arm. Heat crept up the back of your neck and you prayed to any deity that was listening that Mando hadn’t heard the hitch in your breath. You were not attracted to your metal armored Mandalorian employer and friend. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Without another word, Mando made his way to the back of the cargo hold. He opened the ramp before heading down and you called out for him to be careful. Mando glanced over his shoulder, at you and the child, and you waved. You stood at the cargo hold’s edge as Mando pressed a button on his gauntlet and the ramp began to rise. As the metal door rose, you stared at the mandalorian’s back until the ramp cut him off from sight.

Din was more distracted than usual and he told himself it wasn’t because of the newest addition to the Razor Crest. It obviously wasn’t because of you. No, he was just busy with all the bounties he was juggling and the stress of trying to find the child’s people. Then the added dilemma of his current quarry. Already he had been on the flesh trader’s trail for three days. Three full days. That was nothing in comparison to past hunts that would take him weeks on end, but Din found his patience wearing very, very thin.

“Are you ready yet, mate?” A voice asked through the closed door.

Din had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His only lead came from a mercenary who was hunting an Inner Rim politician that had come all the way out here to participate in the slave trade. It was the only access Din would have to get into the market to find his quarry and it came at a cost. Din glanced down at the helmet held in his hands. It was an oddly shaped red thing from Kaleesh culture. His new mercenary partner made it very clear that if he walked in as a Mandalorian everything would be lost. On any normal bounty Din would’ve risked it anyways. There was very little in the galaxy that could coax him out of his armor, leave him bare to the world, but a child in danger did it.

A mother had come to him after he searched for a lead in the local cantina on his first night. She had fallen to her knees in front of him and begged for his help⏤ she offered everything she owned and more in return. Her only child, an eleven year old little girl, had been stolen away from her. Dragged to the flesh market to be sold. Din swore to her that he’d bring her back. On his word as a Mandalorian, she would be reunited with her daughter. He just wasn’t allowed to do it looking like a Mandalorian.

“Seriously, mate, we’re going to be late!” Trigg, the mercenary, barked once more.

Din settled the helmet over his head and shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t fit quite like his real one did, but it was tight enough that he wasn’t worried about it falling off in the heat of battle. For a second, he just stared at himself in the mirror. Red armor of cloth and leather covered every inch of his skin, black gloves pulled on tight, and his oddly shaped helmet covered his face entirely. Din hated it more than anything. But, the sooner he saved the girl and caught his quarry, the sooner he could return to his ship. Return to the child and you.

“I’ll be right out.” Din called back. He settled all his beskar armor pieces into the tarp bag he had borrowed from the child’s mother. It was her home they were using as a base of sorts. Din hid the bag in the closet of the room behind a stack of boxes. It made him anxious to leave his armor behind, but he forced himself to step away and open the door.

Trigg stood in the hall wearing his own personal gear. The blond man had scars from a raking claw on the side of his head leaving those patches with sparse hair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared at Din in a mix of annoyance and impatience. “Finally. Did you have to do your hair?”

“It’s you we’re waiting on now.” Din replied dryly as he marched past the man to the door.

The sooner, the better.

Night had fallen for the third night of Mando being gone. It was too soon for you to be worried about him, but a ball of anxiety still sat in your gut. He had been away for longer periods of time before. The longest thus far being three weeks. You were mumbling a soft song under your breath as you rocked the child to sleep. When his eyes drifted close, you carefully set him in the hammock above Mando’s bunk and tucked a blanket around him.

When you were certain that the kid was settled, you drifted toward the fresher to get ready for bed yourself. You wondered what it would take to convince Mando to pick up a bounty on a planet with an ocean soon. Going from the lava plains of Nevarro to the deserts of Tatooine and now this dusty Outer Rim world was bleak. You missed water. You had grown up near a river on your homeworld and spent a decent amount of time there. It wasn’t until you saw dry planet after dry planet that you truly began to appreciate natural bodies of water.

You shrugged out of your clothes, tossing them aside, and slid into a pair of shorts and one of Mando’s shirts. It had been borrowed early on in your travels and now it belonged more to you than it did him. The dark shirt was large enough to cover most of your shorts. You had been in the middle of washing your face when you heard the tell tale sound of the ramp. Quickly, you grabbed a towel and dried your face while rushing out of the fresher.

Mando was walking up the ramp just as you entered the cargo hold and you shot him a smile, “Hey, Mando.” He came to a sudden stop. You glanced around but saw no evidence of a quarry behind or near him. Had they gotten away? “What happened with the quarry?”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms and a nervous energy settled over your skin. The way he stood just seemed…off. And, the silence that surrounded him wasn’t the usual comfortable quiet you had grown used to. Mando’s helmet tilted some, as if his eyes were raking over your form, and you tugged on the bottom of your shirt anxiously. This was an outfit you wore to sleep every night on the Razor Crest, but right now was the first time you felt uncomfortable having it on around Mando.

“Are you⏤Are you injured?” You asked.

Mando strolled closer to you. Another bit of him that wasn’t right⏤ his gait. As you tried to gather your thoughts, he came to a stop right in front of you. Nearly chest to chest. A lump had formed in your throat, mouth dry, and you tried to swallow it down. Being around Mando always made your stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies, made your heart race out of your chest, made an addicting warmth pool in your core.

That was not how you felt right now.

Your hand reached out, as quickly as you could manage it, and slammed against the lock button of Mando’s bunk. The metal door slid down. It clicked into place, and the Mandalorian in front of you grabbed you by the throat and shoved you back until you slammed into the Razor Crest’s wall. You clawed at the familiar, gloved hand tightening around your throat as a low, unfamiliar chuckle rumbled through the modulator.

“What’s wrong, baby?” A voice that did not belong to your Mandalorian asked. “Aren’t you happy to see me? You were a minute ago.”

“Wh⏤Who⏤” You tried to spit out but you could barely breathe let alone form words.

“I’m your Mandalorian, baby.” The cruel laugh coming out from behind the t-shape visor you found comfort in felt so very wrong. He yanked you off the wall and released your throat. You managed to gasp a single breath of air before he backhanded you across the face hard enough to see stars. You fell to your knees and elbows roughly, a cry of pain leaving your lips, but you struggled to find a weapon of any kind. “That’s right. Crawl away, baby. Run. I’m a Mandalorian who likes to hunt, and now you’re my prey. How’s that sound?”

Your hand found a screwdriver, lying off to the side where you had been working on something under the floorboard earlier, just as he kicked you in the side to flip you over. The imposter knelt on the ground over you and you tried to stab him where only the flight suit sat. Unfortunately, he turned fast enough that the screwdriver struck beskar and did absolutely nothing. He laughed once more as you gave up the attack to try and slip away, but he grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned you to the ground. The imposter sat on top of your thighs, kneeling over you, and you were forced to stare at your reflection in Mando’s armor.

It would be a bold faced lie for you to say you hadn’t daydreamed about having the beskar armor on top of you⏤ the weight of it pressing into you in every delicious way you could think of. But not like this. Not with a stranger inside of it.

“Who knew the ship came with such a pretty little whore.” The imposter hummed. He shifted your arms so he could pin both your wrists with one hand. With his other, he grasped the bottom of the beskar helmet and pulled it off. The man’s eyes were a piercing blue. Cold and cruel. Blond hair covered his scalp except on the side of his head where the scars of what looked like claw marks sat. He tossed the helmet aside and gave you a sickening grin. “Is that what you’re here for? You keep the Mandalorian’s bed warm? Let him fuck you when he’s done with a hunt?”

“Get the kriff off of me!” You struggled against his grip, against his touch, but nothing seemed to deter him from using his other hand to run over your body. You screamed until you were hoarse and when you cried out for Mando the man sitting on top of you just laughed. Faintly, you could hear frantic tapping behind Mando’s bunk door and fear struck you. Was the child awake? He wouldn’t be able to unlock the door from inside you didn’t think.

It seemed the imposter was too immersed in you to hear the sound.

“How about this,” The man leaned closer into your space, “I get a quick taste of you now, and then, once we’re up and in hyperspace, I’ll fuck you better than your Mando ever could, yeah?”

His lips crashed down on yours roughly. You tried to turn your face away, but the imposter bit down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Between the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue and the smell of his rancid breath you were going to be sick. You gasped in pain and he took advantage by shoving his tongue into your mouth. He pressed his hips down into you, grinding against your stomach now, and the feel of his erection pressing into you made a horrified sob slip form you. It seemed to only spurn him on further. He let go of one of your hands to grasp at the waistband of your pants.

The sound of sprinting footsteps made the imposter sit up and you were barely able to register what was happening when a body dressed in red leather slammed into the beskar covered imposter⏤ both men falling away. Taking advantage of your freedom, you scrambled back as quickly as you could. The stranger dressed in red, wearing an oddly shaped helmet that covered his face, had a hand wrapped around the imposter’s throat while his other fist pounded away at the man’s face. Grunts of anger filled the air with every blow thrown and the imposter fought back only for a moment before his body went slack.

You scrambled away further but your back hit a metal crate sitting in the cargo hold. It shifted slightly and the sound made the stranger sit up and spin around. You gasped⏤panicked. Heart still racing. The imposter laid motionless. His face bruised, broken, and bloody beyond all recognition. You were breathing hard, trying to suck in more air as the air you did get brought no relief. The stranger jumped up, motions smooth and agile, and rushed to you. A cry of fear left you as you tried to pathetically jump up, but his hands wrapped around you. Soft, but firm. A comforting weight.

“It’s me. It’s me. You’re safe, mesh’la.” A familiar voice came out of the unfamiliar mask. The bright red and angry shapes still jarring to look at and you tried to struggle away. He pulled away to rip off his gloves. One hand came to rest on the side of your face, while the other lifted the red helmet just enough to reveal a jaw covered in dark scruff and lips. “Listen to me, mesh’la. You’re safe. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s me. I’m here.”

You were still shaking, your entire body threatening to tremble into pieces, but your breaths were beginning to grow controlled. The warm hand on your face was grounding. It was familiar. You couldn't see the man’s eyes, but you could feel his soft gaze. Safe. You felt safe.

“M⏤Mando?” You gasped.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m here, mesh’la. You’re safe now.”

You broke into an uncontrollable sob, unable to bite it back, and Mando didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms. The coarse, red armor you buried your face into felt unfamiliar, but the strong arms that wrapped around you felt right.

For the first time, Din felt uncomfortable in his helmet. It smelled of the spice that Trigg disgustingly chewed on. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull his armor on. It left him in a pair of plain sweats and shirt. After setting you in his bunk, the child curled into your side, he had stripped the mercenary out of his beskar and thrown the piece of shit into the carbonite freezer.

The job had gone so well then so bad. Din found the young Rodian child and killed his quarry. He’d only get half the bounty with the flesh trader dead, but something was better than nothing. The moment he returned the girl to her mother his heart had stopped when he realized his armor was missing. Din had sprinted to the Razor Crest, faster than he had ever run, and still he hadn’t come soon enough.

Din stepped out of the fresher. The Razor Crest was in hyperspace and the cargo hold was dark. The only light spilling from the open door behind him. The sound of whimpering filled the otherwise silent space around him. Din hurried to the bunk to see you tossing and turning. He scooped the child up and set him in the hammock before crawling in to try and calm you.

He called out your name, bare hands on your shoulders, and when your eyes snapped open, thanks to his visor, he could see clearly the way panic and fear filled them. You screamed and began to swing at him. His helmet. It was his helmet. Without thinking, Din ripped his helmet off and threw it out of the bunk. Din pulled you into his arms again, pressing your face to his shoulder, and whispered reassurances.

“It’s me, Mesh’la. It’s me. I’m sorry. I was wearing the helmet. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Mando?” You breathed. He buried his hand in your hair and pulled you tighter into his chest. As if the two of you weren’t already tangled together in the small confines of his bunk. “I’m sorry I hit you⏤”

“It didn’t hurt. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you alone. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Din didn’t know which emotion waged in him the most⏤ guilt or anger. They were neck and neck. You took in a deep shaky breath and your hot breath on his neck made him sigh in relief. You were safe in his arms. Din rubbed your back and the question fell out before he could hold it back. “Did he… Mesh’la, did⏤”

“No.” You whispered. “You got here just in time.”

Din could feel tears soaking into his shirt. When the tears stopped, Din coaxed you out of the bunk and onto the cargo hold floor. He grabbed a first aid kit and rushed back so you weren’t left alone for too long. The only light still came from the open door of the fresher and he sat so his back was to it. The dim light illuminated your features and it was like a spotlight to the injuries you sported. He had told you that you could open your eyes. With the way you sat, it’d be too dim for you to see his face, but you said you didn’t want to risk it.

He let his fingers trace the forming bruise surrounding your right eye. It trailed down to brush against the torn skin of your lower lip. Dank farrik. That kriffing fucker had bit you. He could see the outline of teeth. Din’s jaw clenched. He grabbed a bit of bacta and rubbed it gently into the forming bruise. He was going to do the same for your lower lip when you stopped him.

“Did I hurt you?” He blurted.

“No, no. Not that.” You mumbled. “Can I… Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything, mesh’la. Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked. Din was certain he had misheard you. It was why he sat in silence. He was trying to puzzle out what it was you had actually said. You spoke again, nervous, “You don’t have to. I⏤I…”

“You want me to…kiss you?”

You nodded. Eyes still closed lightly. “I know it’s dumb. It⏤ I just don’t want to feel his lips anymore. I don’t want the taste of him on me.”

“That’s not dumb, mesh’la.”

Din settled one of his hands on the side of your face. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Din began to lean in. He didn’t want to startle you. He wanted to give you every opportunity to pull away if you needed to. Din would be lying to himself, again, if he said he hadn’t imagined the way your lips would feel on him. But not like this. He hated that these were the circumstances, but there wasn’t a single thing Din wouldn’t do for you if you asked.

His nose brushed against yours. Din was close enough that he could feel your lips part. He waited one second more before pressing his lips softly against yours. One of your hands lifted to tangle in his hair and a simple gesture shouldn’t make him feel so hot under his skin. The kiss was slow and tender. Din was terrified to press too hard and bring you pain. The injury to your lower lip still so fresh. And after what you had just suffered through, he wanted you to have all the control. If you needed to use him to rid yourself of that nightmare, to erase the memory that bastard left on your lips, then he would.

Your tongue brushed against his lower lip, tracing it, and he parted his lips for you giving you room to explore him. Maker, the taste of you was so sweet. It took every single ounce of Din’s self control to not deepen the moment even further. The kiss grew almost frantic. A hand in his hair and another at the back of his neck to pull him into you. You pulled back just enough to suck in a sharp breath before your lips was back on his and Din lost his battle for self control.

He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Din was caught off guard when you pushed down to press yourself against his already hard cock, but it was a welcome surprise. He grabbed your hips, hands tightening into the soft skin there, and grinded into you. You moaned into his mouth and Din pulled away briefly so he could press open mouth kisses along your jaw then down your neck until he reached your shoulder. Thoughtlessly, he bit down, wanting to leave evidence of himself on you, and you let out a sharp gasp while grinding into him again. Din ran his tongue against the bite soothingly.

Din’s hands slipped under your shirt and he desperately let his lips find yours once more. His tongue slipped past your lips, but then he tasted it. The sharp, metallic tang of blood. Din pulled back quickly realizing his plan to let you run the show had gone to shit. Both of you were breathless.

“Are you okay, mesh’la??” He pulled one hand away from your hip to touch your face. His thumb brushed against your lower lip and in the dim light he could see the tint of red.

“Thank you.” You breathed. You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss that missed and only landed on the corner of his lips. Then you leaned your head on his shoulder and just took slow breaths. Din let his knuckles drag up and down your spine. He could feel your entire body going limp as you melted into his hold. You mumbled, “Thank you, Mando.”

“Din.” He replied, but he didn’t know if you had already fallen asleep or not. “Call me Din.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #female reader #reader insert #din djarin smut #dom!din djarin #trying real hard to be sub!din djarin #angst/comfort #fluff

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statisticallymorelikely · 4 months

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✨00Q end of the year fic rec list ✨ (to commemorate the year of the lord 2023 when this ship came back to kick my ass)

the simplest of crimes by pdameron - fake marriage AU. my favorite 00Q fake married au just because the stakes are so low like they didn't have to do all that but the build up is so good.

come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron - florist!Q AU. this really got me giggling and twirling my hair.

James Bond Will Return by sorion - post-Spectre James comes back. a very charming character study.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron - pining Q. beautifully written with just the right amount of whump.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron - fake relationship but posh. i love whodunnits.

Hold Tight by orphan_account - Spectre fix-it. and fix it they did. also has my second favorite Q name.

lacunae (just the blood you owe) by finestkind - Q offers comfort as bond deals with grief. this fic honestly makes me ache, the way it handles friendship and grief and love UGH.

Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You) by Brihna - Spectre re-write where Q and James sleep before he goes off to Mexico. possibly my favorite Spectre fix-it, love emotional constipation and miscommunication.

Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac - Q pulls bond out of retirement for an emergency mission. the best mission fic i have ever read hands down.

bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton - soulmate au. gorgeous writing.

if I couldn't be strong by SailorChibi - post-Spectre James is found abandoned in a hospital in a coma. i love how quietly vindictive Q is in this.

a bloodless coup by Ark - marathon sex. very vulnerable.

I Could've Been a Maths Teacher by Brihna - Q branch gets invaded. v good translation of the comic into prose.

I Don't Take Your Pleasure For Granted by Catchclaw - Q develops a crush. love me some pathetic Q.

I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth - Skyfall re-write, lots of Q whump. the hurt is so good but the comfort is even better. plus i love attack roombas.

Favours by dhampir72 - pining from Q's POV. fun fact: my gf once quoted a line of this fic to me and i knew immediately which fic she was reading, that's how much i've read this.

rain by Aniron84 - touch starved Q. god GOD, this fic!! there was a time in my life, i read this multiple times a day. the description of loneliness is so on point it always hurts.

Fidelity by marlowe_tops - Q seems to have picked up a stray. local idiot doesn’t know he’s in a relationship, struggles mentally

Indelible by enjolras_lexa - 5+1 of bond breaking into Q's apartment. quite gentle and funny.

A Hitch in the Holster by APrettySpy - Q is having A Time during a heat wave and like Q i'm not immune to the holster

when the world isn't fair by Mlle_Heloise - James rescues Q's holiday. warm and fluffy.

The Pros and Cons of Wayward Agents by Brihna - Q whump with a protective Bond. is it bad to be all teehee while reading someone beat someone else to unconsciousness

Best Dressed by HandsAcrossTheSea - PWP with kilts! really good p0rn and with bottom Bond to boot!

Through A New Lens: A Spectacular Love Story by christinefromsherwood - Q discovers he has a glasses kink, or does he? listen, i too am not immune to daniel craig in glasses so i can relate.

talk / listen by thestalwartheart - dirty talk. a masterclass in p0rn honestly, SO good.

The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 - soulmate au. will never stop recommending this, it's so tragic and yet not?

#00Q #rec list #007 #james bond #quartermaster #i did not expect to get obsessed with them again #but honestly #one of the highlights of my year #there's such good fic out there im always well fed #ive read all of these at least 10x each

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imnameimswrld · 3 months

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╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐂𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐁𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 || 𝗢𝗣𝟴𝟭 ꒱꒱

━━ ❪ . . . oscar x verstappen!surfer!reader ❫

━━ ❪ . . . description : freshly surfing world champ, yn goes to take some much needed time off, and starts her vacay off by attending the miami grand prix. her intention was to support her big bro, but it appears a certain papaya driver had other plans; ❫

━━❪ . . . smau ! ❫

━━❪ . . . warnings : none ❫

━━❪ . . . fc : caroline marks ❫

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 767 224 others

ynverstappen world champion, blessed, thank you to the beautiful cali waves 🌊🏆

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user so well deserved, congrats yn !

bestfriend you were WICKED on the waves girl !!

maxverstappen1 let's gooo, congrats sissy ♡

⤿ ynusername couldn't have you being the only world champ in the fam, now could I ? 😋

⤿ maxverstappen1 no, no you just couldn't 😤

user the verstappen siblings are just legendary

user so with the break coming up, will we see yn at the next grand prix 👀 ?

⤿ user plus the next ones in miami, super close to cali, so 🤞 !!

oscarpiastri congratulations yn, coolest world champion ever 👏🥇

[ liked by ynverstappen ]

user and if I said yn and oscar would be SO cute together ?

Boeta 🏎

hey sissy

where r u ?

Sissy 🌊

chillin'

what's up ?

Boeta 🏎

no, I mean where r u

you said you were gonna be the paddocks when I got back from my meeting ?

Sissy 🌊

oohhhh

well, I am in the paddock

just not yours

Boeta 🏎

what ?

yn, are u hiding in dani's closet again to scare him ?

Sissy 🌊

ahhh, good times

but nope, I'm in the mclaren paddocks

Boeta 🏎

is lando talking your ear off again ?

Sissy 🌊

nah, lol

I'm uh, actually with chilling with oscar

Boeta 🏎

piastri ?

since when are you guys on chilling level

Sissy 🌊

since he asked me out to dinner later

[read]

Boeta ?

uhhhh, boet ?

[read]

ynverstappen

liked by redbullracing, schecoperez, and 977 335 others

ynverstappen soooo good being back in the paddocks, thanks so much for having me redbullracing – and ofc, congrats boeta on p1 ! 💙

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user soooo, did anyone else see the video of oscar and yn walking around together ??? dude had the dopiest smile on his face too 😭

redbullracing you're practically family yn ! 💙

[ liked by ynverstappen ]

user 2 champs 🏆

danielricciardo thanks for not scaring the crap out of me this time yn :)

⤿ ynverstappen ah, there's always next time dan 😄

⤿ danielricciardo no no, pls don't.

mclaren hope you had a wonderful time at the race yn ! 🧡

⤿ redbullracing are you going to apologize for stealing her from out paddocks ?

⤿ mclaren are we supposed to ?

⤿ oscarpiastri of course not.

⤿ maxverstappen1 thin ice piastri, watch it.

user uhhh, not redbull and mclaren battling it out over yn 😭

user my yncar ship is HERE BDJEHZIS

oscarpiastri just added to their story !

[ caption 1: stolen forever maxverstappen1 🤚 ; caption 2: 🧡 ]

Boeta 🏎

oscar is really bold

Sissy 🌊

oh, I know 😁

it's one of the many reasons why I like him

Boeta 🏎

so you like him then ?

like, really like him ?

Sissy 🌊

yeah, I do boeta

Boeta 🏎

okay then...

invite him to the lunch tomorrow

Kelly has been dying to see the two of you together

Sissy 🌊

she's so prescious I love her

and thanks boeta, for being cool with all this

Boeta 🏎

hey, i may be protective, but who am I to tell you who you can and can't date sissy

Sissy 🌊

🥺🥺 , houd van je 💙

Boeta 🏎

mhm, hou ook van jou 💙

ynverstappen

liked by oscarpiastri, kellypiquet, and 878 301 others

[ tagged: oscarpiastri ]

ynverstappen had some cake by the ocean with my papaya boy... p.s yes, the cake he bought me brought me to tears 🍰 🧡 🌊

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user BYE I'M GONNA GO CRY IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE

user stop that cake is so cute 😭😭

oscarpiastri I'm just happy to call you mine, liefie :)

⤿ ynverstappen and I'm just as happy to be your liefie ❤

⤿ maxverstappen1 not the dutch- ya'll gonna make me puke.

⤿ kellypiquet max, stop bullying your sister and oscar and go clean the litter boxes dammit

⤿ ynverstappen oohhh, mother is mad now boet, better get to it then 😄

⤿ maxverstappen1 you're staying in my house.

⤿ ynverstappen says who ? I'm staying at oscar's – plus, you know how I love the aussie waves

[ liked by oscarpiastri ]

⤿ maxverstappen1 yn verstappen istg... girl gets a bf and thinks she's the shit.

⤿ kellypiquet MAX.

⤿ maxverstappen1 I'M GOING.

user can I make this comment section my roman empire ?

user I'm laughing and crying rn, this is too funny

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #max verstappen #red bull racing #mclaren #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri fluff

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zwhoreo · 5 months

Note

Why be sad when you can be horny instead? Luffy cheering you up by eating you out #TeamSmut

I’M POSTING AGAIN!! now with my THIRD story about luffy eating you out on the deck of the ship

cheering you up - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while you’re lethargic and sad from being on sea for so long, luffy offers oral sex to cheer you up one night

contains: oral (f receiving)

words: 1.9k

_______________________________

You’re sad, not by any particular event but just by the way monotony permeates. The sea is large. It takes a long time to sail between islands, exciting adventures that take a few days are framed by weeks and weeks at sea with nothing other than your friends, your boyfriend, yourself. That last part doesn’t sound so bad, right? Your friends, your boyfriend.

Luffy rests his chin on your shoulder and begs for attention. He’s sprawled all limp and tangled and he’s been whining for the last hour about how bored he is, how much he wants to go exploring and do something fun and even this fancy ship gets boring after awhile, he doesn’t want to look at the fish or play on the deck anymore. You love him but he’s just been so bratty recently, uninterested in anything. You aren’t sure how to entertain him and he just always, always wants to be with you and it’s getting exhausting, you’re so, so tired. So you rest in bed and pet his hair as he complains about wanting to go on adventure and be somewhere else.

Everyone else is irritable and tired, especially because of how hot it’s been recently and nobody likes to rot in the sun in the middle of the ocean. You know what happens with your best friends, where you see them so much that there isn’t much new to talk about? So you’re mostly quiet when you’re sketching with Nami, or reading with Robin, or fishing with Usopp. Or napping with Luffy.

It’s late in the evening but you’re taking a nap anyways, you’re feeling sort of depressed and lethargic and it’s all catching up to you at around 6 PM. You ask for Luffy to come cuddle you even though this is his time to beg Sanji for more food after dinner, the only time of the day he’s really been at his full energy. But he won’t turn you down so he squeezes your hand and pulls you into bed with him.

You lay down. You get under the blankets and take Luffy and tuck him against your chest like a stuffed animal. You can move him around however you want, he won’t mind. He huffs contentedly and quickly goes to sleep with his head between your breasts, clutching you around the waist, snoring loudly.

And even though your eyes hurt and your body’s sore and all you want is to let the rest of the evening slip by in dreams you can’t somehow. You just stay awake with this sweaty boy in your arms, squeezed too tight, and he isn’t a quiet sleeper even when you try to still him so he just squirms and murmurs against you and there’s nothing you can do.

You turn your attention to caring for him, just trying for some sort of comfort. You kiss his greasy hair and whisper little compliments, you massage his back, he loves your touch so much, smiling against you in his dreams. This makes you happy but you still feel sick in your heart, uncomfortable and tired and lonely. The room suddenly feels too hot, oppressive, you need to leave and go get some fresh air.

So, because you don’t want to wake him, you eventually ease a pillow into Luffy’s arms in the absence of your embrace. You slip out of bed, you need fresh air.

There’s a spot you’ve found, a support platform halfway up the tallest mast. You go here when you want to be alone. You’re rocked and the world tilts as the waves crash beneath you, climbing higher, higher. Your feet are bare against the rope ladder, thick knots digging into the soles of your feet. But now on this platform you can breathe. You can see every single star and galaxy from here, black purple blue, a glimmering ballroom of constellations that mirror the wine-dark sea. You are the world’s meridian.

Your body turns off, mind drifting away because you’ve always loved outer space. If you were floating a million light years away then everything would just disappear which sounds nice right now. You close your eyes. You are the universe.

But your body is shaken by the sudden rocking of the mast, you have to scurry to keep from falling as the wood creaks. The loud snap of elastic, a body slams next to you with a clumsy bounce and there he sits, legs spread, looking at you with huge, curious eyes.

“Hey Luffy,” you move close to him. You don’t want to be in the stars if you can’t take him with you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He's quiet, wistful. He looks a little hurt to have been left alone, he doesn’t understand.

“Just needed some air. It’s ok, you can stay,” you say even though he would’ve stayed anyway.

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers, off in his own little world. You feel sad and lonely again. This is your boyfriend, why can’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, really, he’ll just be there for you. But don’t make him worry, don’t make him upset. But no, tell him, you have to talk to him or you’ll cry right now. Right now.

“I’ve been sad,” you whisper to the ocean below.

“Hm?” Luffy’s arms wrap around you slowly. He presses his cheek to yours, searching your face, so confused. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes I just get kinda depressed being on this ship for so long between islands, you know? Especially when everyone else is bored and tired, and when the weather’s bad. And we’re low on food, I’m sick of fish. I’m just getting frustrated all the time and I hate it.” Once you start to let it out you can’t stop. You wipe your face with your hands, sniffing.

He listens, not speaking, not moving except for those hands rubbing yours. And when you’re done he puts his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, me too. I get what ya mean.” But soon his face is against yours again, so tender now. “Can I help make you feel better, though?”

You smile. You’re so glad you told him, he’s so sweet and good to you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Hey, this’ll make ya happier! Nami told me we’re close to an island, the tide’s changing or somethin’!”

“Really? How long?” He’s right, you do feel happier.

“Mm, I dunno that part.” His chin’s back on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shoulda asked.”

“That’s ok.” You sigh, but you’re still smiling. “It’s enough to know we’re close.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not feelin’ well. An island in the future is no good if you’re feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“My body hurts… I’ve been sitting and resting too much, I think.” It’s true, your legs are sore and heavy. Bones have turned to stone in their hibernation.

“Yeah? Let’s take care of that.” His hands go to you, rubbing your thighs beneath the silk of your night dress, your waist, your shoulders. “Mm, hey, you wanna play? Would that make you happier and make yer body not hurt so much?” He’s murmuring into your ear, smiling with his teeth.

“What kinda play?”

“Sex? You wanna have sex? It’s been awhile.” Luffy licks his lips, mind racing. “I could… eat ya? Y’know, that thing we do sometimes? Where I-”

“Please,” you say so quickly. Maybe this is therapy you crave. Release all this time before you start anew, release it for him to devour.

He laughs loudly, sitting back against the mast. “Heh, ok, lie down and lemme hold you. I got you, love.” His eyes twinkle.

You face him, you get on your back on the wood, head turned away toward the endless stretch of night and sea. And Luffy wraps his arms around your thighs, propping your legs up, spread for him, you feel him nuzzle your thigh and huff against you as he returns to this scent he loves.

You both breathe as one in a long, deep rhythm as his nose presses against you there, right there. Soft moist warmth for Luffy, damp lacy fabric perfect to chew and taste. Teeth gnaw on you through your panties, dull but hungry. You pulse there with every swallow against nothing, nerves lighting you up down to your toes.

“You’re teasing me…” you whine, reminding him of where he is.

“Heh, sorry.” But he’s lost in you, he’s not in any hurry. Until, of course, his tongue catches the arousal that drips out of you and that’s where he needs to go, he decides.

So he casually rips away your panties and smiles at what’s his. You’re at the center of his world and this is how he’ll feast on the meridian.

He quickly bites your clit, not hard but enough to make your whole body twitch. He’s so good at doing what you’ve taught him. And god he does look stunning from here, he pushes his hat back and shiny, jet-black hair tickles your inner thighs. You run your hand through it and tug, curling your body up to stroke his cheek and now you’ve got his attention, you just wanted to see those big, chocolate eyes.

It’s with care that he dips his tongue lower, slowly lapping at you as you get wetter for him, he’s getting loud now as he usually does and the vibrations from his moaning makes you tremble in his arms. And when you tremble, he squeezes you tighter. Warm arms, so different from the sky.

Closer, closer, it’s almost painful it’s so deep and perfect. Your hips move on instinct, riding his tongue, pulling you into this vortex, deep and deeper it comes in waves. The ship rocks and you sway together.

He buzzes against you with a shiver and a sound of joy when your orgasm hits deep. You moan and reach for him immediately and he looks up at you, mouth soaked, he asks, “ya done? Feel better?” smile unbroken.

“Mhm, a lot better.” And he’s in your arms now. You cuddle on that little wooden platform beneath the moon. The heartache and soreness and exhaustion is all new and perfect now. So much better.

“Hey thanks for cheering me up. You felt so good, Lu.” Your voice is a quiet whisper on the wind as you stroke his hair, his muscles twitch around you with the remnants of that powerful joy.

“Heh, tasted good. Glad you’re ok. This mean you’ll come back and sleep with me now?” He’s tilting his head like a little puppy, your scent warm on his breath.

“Yeah. But I wanna watch the stars for a little longer.” You lay against him. You’re sitting, now, interlocked and inseparable. You drip down there from him, so warm against the wood, nerves still on fire. And those stars up there are all suns, you know. They’re all on fire too. You’re amazed at how alight the night is. And this wind from the east, I guess this is what it means to be close to land. Those clouds, maybe that’s what they mean too, shot with colors from no direction, full and aimless.

Luffy is content with you. He’s ok with you watching the sky. All he says is, “that’s alright. Long as I can stay here and hold ya.”

#luffy x reader #one piece #luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #one piece smut #luffy x reader smut #luffy smut #luffy x f!reader

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rhysdarbinizedarby · 7 months

Text

‘Our Flag Means Death’: How Blackbeard & Stede’s Fantastical Underwater Reunion Came Together

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death, Season 2, Episodes 1-3.]

It doesn’t take more than a single second to recognize Kate Bush‘s haunting and heartbreaking tune “This Woman’s Work,” as Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), is pushed from a clifftop to plunge into the ocean’s depths below in Our Flag Means Death‘s Season 2 installment, “The Innkeeper.” But how did the pirate heartbroken over Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) wind up in this position? It’s a delicate and winding path that starts with the infamous pirate’s unraveling over the course of the latest season’s first two episodes.

Believing Stede intentionally abandoned him after planning to run away together at the end of Season 1, Blackbeard embraces the version of himself so many have conjured up in their minds as he leads the Revenge’s “new” crew to pillage and plunder on the high seas. His unhinged behavior eventually forces Jim (Vico Ortiz), Izzy (Con O’Neill), Frenchie (Joel Fry), Archie (Madeleine Sami), and Fang (David Fane) to violently take control of the ship and neutralize Blackbeard — or so they think — after he steers them directly into a storm.

When Zheng Yi Sao’s (Ruibo Qian) Red Flag happens across an eerie-looking Revenge on the ocean, Stede dives overboard in his excitement over the possibility of seeing Ed, only to be told various excuses for his absence by the crew aboard. When Stede directly addresses Izzy regarding Blackbeard’s lack of presence, the now peg-legged pirate claims the Revenge crew dropped Ed on a beach.

This seems to ring true as we see Blackbeard wash ashore and cared for by his own former captain Hornigold (Mark Mitchinson). While together, Blackbeard and Hornigold discuss the mutiny that took place and Blackbeard’s hopes for the future. When a role-playing scenario testing Blackbeard’s ability to be an Innkeeper, a profession he’s interested in, goes awry, he attacks Hornigold, killing the tarp-clad pirate. But when Hornigold rises again, Blackbeard realizes something is off.

Aboard the Revenge, Ed’s body is uncovered below deck. Believing him dead, Zheng Yi Sao is forced to consider killing the Revenge crew for mutiny after initially welcoming them aboard the Red Flag. And Stede has to cope with the idea that his love may be gone forever.

After hatching an escape plan for the Revenge team, Stede and pals return to their former ship, leaving Zheng stranded without a wheel. Going to sit with Ed’s body, Stede wonders why he had to go and get himself killed. Meanwhile, Blackbeard begins to realize he’s stuck somewhere between life and death, a place this Hornigold manifestation calls a “gravy basket.”

As the two men banter about the pros and cons of choosing life over death, Hornigold ties a boulder around Ed’s waist and throws it from the cliff they’re standing on, pushing Blackbeard into the ocean. Just as it seems as though he’ll succumb to the waves, Blackbeard proves Bush’s song right: Perhaps there’s a little life in him yet. When Stede lifts the cloth from his face on the Revenge, underwater Ed reacts to the change. Peering into the water, he sees a light from which a fantastical mermaid version of Stede emerges.

In the real world, Stede reacts to Blackbeard’s twitching hand, taking it in his and pleading for him to live as a montage of their moments together rolls alongside Bush’s still-playing song. The final seconds of the episode see Ed’s eyes open, giving Stede hope.

So, how did this moving turn of events come to pass? A team full of creatives was responsible for bringing the captivating and satisfying reunion.

Stede’s Mermaid Tail

“It’s a huge process,” putting together Stede’s practical mermaid look, according to costume designer Gypsy Taylor. She says “it started with me begging everybody” to avoid visual FX and make a tail for the sequence. The orange and glittering look could have followed several different styles, but ultimately, Taylor notes, “I thought if Stede is going to turn into a mermaid, and it’s in Blackbeard’s dream, it’s sort of his vision of a mermaid.”

Considering this, in Taylor’s mind, Blackbeard wouldn’t envision some epic fantastical creature; instead, Stede would “just be like a goldfish. He’d just be like a sweet harmless goldfish.” In putting sketches together of the ensemble, Taylor acknowledges the symbolism of the goldfish motif: “There’s a huge Chinese element that we have coming through, and goldfish in Chinese culture is considered lucky.” As this vision of Stede was responsible for helping bring Ed back to life, that luck was certainly there.

“I thought that was a pretty beautiful thing, that they meet each other under the ocean and then they find each other,” Taylor gushes. “And so I went a little deep on that, but really he’s just a goldfish.” In order to achieve the goldfish mermaid look, Taylor teamed up with props master Hayley Egan, who’s based out of Australia. “She happens to excel at making mermaid tails,” Taylor shares.

After securing Egan’s involvement, Taylor says, “We fit Rhys in a jumbo stretch long skirt and made sure it was really tight so he could still sort of do this dolphin [swimming] action. And then we bought these mono fins, which you can purchase online and put your feet in.” Safety was key, though. “He had to swim really deep and for a really far distance, and he’d never done anything like that before,” Taylor explains. “So it had to be really safe and doable.”

Once that was figured out, Taylor says Egan “cast something like 3,000 hand-sculpted silicon scales. There’s something like five kilograms of glitter in the whole thing. And then we hand-dyed pleated chiffon for all the fins, so that when he was swimming through the water, it would have this magic feel.”

While the scene may play as emotional and romantic, the story behind getting Stede’s mermaid look from Australia to New Zealand was actually quite comical. “[Egan] sliced two suitcases in half, filled [them with the mermaid tail], and then when it went through customs, the customs guy said to her, ‘Are you bringing fish into this country?’ And she’s like, ‘Yes, yes I am.'”

In total, there were four tails, including “a practice tail, a stunt tail, because Rhys had to do quite a few lessons before we got the real one on. And the real one was super precious, and chlorine’s very strong, it eats fabrics away, so we wanted to save the hero one for the hero shot,” Taylor reveals. When it came time to film, “We put him in [the tail], and it was just amazing.” In order to get Darby into the pool, Taylor says a ramp had to be built and the actor was placed in a wheelchair while costumed “and pushed in.” As unglamorous as it sounds, she adds, “it was like Rhys’s dream come true.”

How Kate Bush Entered the Music Mix

It’s safe to say Kate Bush has been having a moment on TV since last year’s “Running Up That Hill” needle drop on Stranger Things, but music supervisor Maggie Phillips says, “This Woman’s Work” was selected before Netflix‘s hit made headlines with their use of the aforementioned song. “When we were placing [the song in the season lineup],” Phillips says, “it was maybe weeks after Stranger Things, and I was worried that we would look like copycats.”

Phillips maintains that the song was in the mix before, but it ultimately “doesn’t matter because really what matters is that Kate Bush is a queen and more and more people need to know her music.”

She says, “From what I heard from David [Jenkins], it was a song that Taika was attached to.” At first, Phillips was reluctant to go with the song due to its prior uses, but “David told me not to worry about [that], that people have short-term memory when it comes to music.”

While she debated with the team over cutting it, “[David] has the visuals in his mind. I don’t. I’m just hearing it with a script and I had no clue how it was going to work until I saw the first cut, and it was beautiful and they picked a part of the song that worked really well with the visuals, so they sort of made it their own,” Phillips explains. “They added a different context to the song that I wouldn’t have been able to imagine myself. So they proved me wrong for sure.”

It’s hard to imagine the scene without Bush’s song. “It changes the way you listen to the song,” Phillips notes. “I got chills watching it and I know that song so well and haven’t gotten chills like that in a long time.” With all of the buildup, “You’re waiting for them to have their romantic moment. You’re waiting for three episodes for that to happen. And so it’s so cathartic when that song comes on, and you see them come together in this fantasy world under the sea. It’s just perfect.” This led her to email Jenkins. “I was like, ‘You were right. I was wrong. But this was beautiful, and thank you so much.'”

Blackbeard’s Wet Wig Woes

Anyone watching the scene unfold would have to notice Blackbeard’s silver tresses weaving through the water, a feat much more difficult behind the scenes than the seemingly simple sequence onscreen. “We filmed that quite late in the season, and so we were really planning and thinking about that all the way through [filming]. I was a bit nervous,” hair and makeup designer Nancy Hennah admits. “I knew that he was going to have to be under the water with his wig on for quite a long time.”

Even with high-quality wig glue, Hennah says, “You can do everything you can to make that wig stay on, but there’s a limited amount of time that the glue will last. So we had to use different products than we would normally use to get the wig down.” Because the product Hennah normally uses to keep hair back in a wig is water soluble, “it melts, and the hair starts coming out from the lace, and it can ruin the whole look of the wig.” She had to come up with a creative fix.

“I glued his own hair back, and then we glued the lace on top of that, and wildly, it lasted right until the very last shot when they were dragging him through the water by the ankles,” Hennah reveals. “The wig just came off completely after they’d finished shooting. And so he came up out of the water, and the wig was off to the side, [and he goes], ‘I think my wig came off.'” She calls the success of the wig “incredible” and “just a fluke really.”

When it came to capturing Darby’s underwater look, it was all about blending the mermaid tail with his skin. “With Stede, Gypsy had a beautiful mermaid tail made, and we did a whole lot of practice with different types of silicon and things that we had to blend that piece between his skin and the tail. We made these pieces of silicon with glitter and things in them that we individually stuck over the top of the mermaid tail,” Hennah details.

Again, there were concerns about getting “things to stick underwater,” but watching the scene come together from behind the camera eased those. “[When] we were standing there on the set that day and watching the monitor, it just was so beautiful that we were all blown away by it, and that tank that they were filming in was a couple of stories deep, and to be out there in that water, it was challenging, and they both did so well. It just went off without a hitch. It was one of those great days where it just worked for everybody.”

Don’t miss what else is in store for the season. Stay tuned for additional interviews and content as the second season of Our Flag Means Death unfolds.

Our Flag Means Death, New Episodes, Thursdays, Max

Source: TV Insider

#rhys darby #taika waititi #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #costume designer #costume details

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revasserium · 7 months

Note

i carry your heart with me - Zoro with an s/o he meets during his travels

i carry your heart (with me)

opla!zoro; 1,776 words; fluff, a bit of angst, and then fluff again, fem!reader, implied smut but none actually written out (i know, maybe next time lol)

summary: whipped!zoro is whipped.

a/n: this is painfully self-indulgent. but if u wanna read about zoro being grossly in love... here you go.

he meets you in a city of gold — golden leaves and golden apples, golden wheat and golden cattle. he meets you with your golden voice, a sound like liquid sun; he meets you with your gold-spun dreams, and somehow, he knows you’re the one.

he’d never known a song could sounds so beautiful till he heard you sing for the very first time. he doesn’t blame the jostling crowds of men at the bar as they try to push just an inch closer to the stage, their eyes hazy with candlelight and greed.

but later that night, after too many drinks and a few good hours of usopp regaling their best adventures, zoro kisses you and thinks himself the greediest of them all.

“come with us,” he says, with the sun setting fire to the evening sky.

“come with us,” he says, murmuring the words against your skin, cloaked beneath the darkness of night.

“what would i even do on a pirate ship?” you’d asked, laughing as he ghosts his lips along the column of your neck, content with the thought of drowning himself in the texture of your bitten off sighs.

“dunno, you can sing… we’ve been looking that.”

you pull away to stare at him, and somewhere behind the glassy glaze of your eyes, he finds oceans that he’d never sailed, oceans the depths of which he thinks he could spend the rest of his life trying to explore. but he saw something there that night he’d seen the very first time he’d caught your eyes — the glimmer of want like lamps behind a submarine’s windows — and in them, he sees a thirst for adventure that mirrors his own.

a thirst that he’s tasted on the open salt breeze, in the wild, uncertain whomph of unfurling sails against the backdrop of a dawning sky.

you hum against the skin of his shoulder and he lets his fingers track an indulgent trail along the length of your spine.

“can i at least sleep on it?” you ask, laughing as he sighs huffily and makes to roll away from you. you pull him back with another kiss and he lets himself be properly lost for the first time in what feels like centuries.

in the morning, you find the bed empty and the sun beyond your small bedroom window is cracking over an eggshell dawn. the wind is warm, but the ground is still chilly — the sky is the shade of a fading bruise and by the time you reach port, the grand pirate ship with the sheep’s head mast is no longer there. you sigh, wrap your shawl more tightly around your shoulders and wonder if he’ll ever think of you again.

he does, though he wouldn’t get the chance to tell you for years and years and years.

“i thought you said you’d convince her?” sanji asks over a freshly rolled cigarette and two tankards of barrel-aged beer.

zoro shrugs, “i tried.”

“shoulda tried harder, then.”

zoro grunts, taking a long swig of his beer and wincing as he glances between sanji and the glass.

“what’dyou put in here?”

sanji’s grin goes lopsided as he waves a hand vaguely through the air, “oh, just somethin’ with a bit more bite. looked like you needed it.”

and for once, zoro doesn’t snipe back. instead, he stares at the tankard for a long second before drowning the entire thing in a few forceful gulps.

just then, luffy rounds the door into the kitchen and grins at the two men at the counter.

“whatcha talkin’ about?”

sanji jerks his head towards zoro, “just about zoro’s lost love.”

“she ain’t lost. we know exactly where she is.”

sanji opens his mouth but pauses as he realizes there are two things zoro could’ve denied and he’d only denied one.

luffy grins, “oh i know. i convinced him to let her go.”

sanji frowns, “wait what? weren’t you the first one that said we should ask her to join?”

luffy nods, still grinning, “sure! yeah, her singing’s the best i’ve heard, but if she’s not ready, we shouldn’t force her. she’ll find us though, someday. and she’ll just join the crew then!”

there’s a kind of childish, miraculous certainty with which luffy says things that always leaves strangers baffled. but his crew knows him better — they know that his blind trust only seems blind because he puts his trust in things that other people might not yet be able to see.

and he doesn’t strike out this time either, even though it’s years before any of them would meet you again.

though meet you, they do, but this time, it’s amidst canon-fire and wood dust and the incoherent shouts of retreating marines.

zoro sees you first, flying through the air on a thick length of rope, a small instrument strapped to your back, landing light on the deck like a ghost or a daydream. you’re different now, your limbs a bit longer, your hair a bit lighter, twisted back with a strand of golden ribbon so bright it might’ve stolen light from the sun itself.

“its — it’s you!” luffy is a bit breathless and there’s a dark soot smudge across his cheeks, but he’s smiling all the same.

“yeah, i heard you guys were looking for a musician?”

zoro wipes down the length of his swords, his eyes never leaving your form as he makes his way to you.

“so, guess you slept on it, huh?”

you turn towards him, and he’s once more held still by the look in your eyes. there’s a fierce, feral fire there that threatens to ignite everything it touches, and when you smile, zoro feels the burning inside him just as strong as before, as if he’s held a piece of you in his chest all these years and the proximity to you has finally set it ablaze.

“yep. i did. and here i am.”

luffy laughs and claps you on the shoulder as sanji lights up a post-fight cigarette, grinning toothily at you as he asks if you’d like anything to eat or drink. and soon, the rest of their growing crew joins you as you’re pulled away from zoro for what nami had termed a proper straw hat initiation.

he thinks he’d never appreciated music until you’re the one playing it — later that evening, he lets himself be carried on the moonlit tendrils of your voice as it dances over a soft melody of strings and the ever present lullaby of the drowsy sea.

and then, even later, when he finally gets you alone enough to press his mouth to yours, he thinks that your skin smells of a thousand untold stories, collected in the curve for your neck and the bend of your hips, arresting his senses like so many exotic perfumes from distant lands. he maps a constellation of wants and unsaid words into the long, sinuous expanses of your thighs and re-teaches himself the meaning of greed as he kisses a line up your stomach, back up to your lips to find you smiling.

“hey,” he says, reaching down to run a finger along the high of your cheeks. freckles. you didn't used to have them before.

“hey yourself, stranger,” you say, adjusting your body slightly so he can lay down next to you.

neither of you remark upon the lingering ghost of a night long past, the shapes of your bodies curled into almost identical shapes, the darkness wrapped around you like a promise that’s made to be broken.

“how’d you even find us?” zoro asks, letting his thumb trace absent circles into the soft of your kiss-bruised shoulder.

“weren’t you listening at dinner? i was ‘rescued’ from another pirate ship by the marines and —”

zoro scoffs, “i’ve hung around usopp long enough to know bullshit when i hear it.”

you quiet, though it’s not an unpleasant silence by any means.

“you wanna know the truth?” you ask, shifting to pillow your cheek against his chest.

he nods, “yeah, that’d be nice.”

you bite your lips, “i went looking for you. the morning after you left. but by the time i got to the docks, you guys were already gone.”

“hm.”

you let out a long sigh, “why’d you leave?”

you shift to look up at him; he glances down to meet your eyes. there’s no accusation in your voice, just a simple curiosity. and somehow, that stings more than zoro would ever admit.

“you… you didn’t seem like you were ready.”

he clears his throat and looks away, luffy’s words echoing back through the years.

“and… we knew that you’d find us eventually.”

when he looks down this time, your eyebrows are cocked and there’s an indulgent smile on your lips.

“well, guess you were right.”

you shift again to curl into his side and he adjusts slightly to slot his body more comfortably against yours. he remembers wondering how two bodies could be made separately and still fit so perfectly together like this. and here and now, he wonders how that might still be true after so many years.

he grounds himself in the rhythmic cycle of your breaths.

“zoro?”

your drowsy voice stirs him from the edges of his dreams and for a moment, he doesn’t remember when or where he is — if he’s back in the golden village lying in your tiny, warm bedroom, or if he’s on the going merry, with you tucked perfectly against his side.

“yeah?”

“will you be here in the morning?”

“mm. yeah. i will.”

the blankets rustle, the world around you shifts, like a camera with a mismatched lens, and for a second, just a single second, time bends back on itself, and zoro feels one moment superimposed over another. a fracture, a singularity, a temporary double-exposure.

and then, the film flickers and time unwinds itself, and he can hear the soft shushing of waves against the merry’s hull.

“do you promise?” you ask, curling your fingers against zoro’s chest as he turns towards you to pull you closer into him.

“yeah,” he says, his voice already thick with the syrup of sleep and dreams, even as he leans down to drop a kiss into your hair —

“i promise. ‘m not going anywhere.”

feed me opla!zoro reqs pls i beg

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 months

Text

Preening Peacocks / Sanji Imagine

Request: could you write a sanji x reader fic of zeff sitting the two of them down and basically saying that if they don't stop making heart eyes at each other he's going to have to separate them because it's getting in the way of work. cue them both promising to act more professional only to end up making out after the kitchen is closed. reader tries to protest because they should be going to bed but ends up giving in when sanji kisses her along the neck.

Ooooh this is both sweet and spicy, the perfect combination! ;)

Warning: slightly NSFW so 18+ please, a little strong language!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @leonerdnimoy.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

How Zeff hadn't lost his mind over the last ten years, he would never know.

He knew, of course. That you had a shared history - a shared past, a shared ordeal that he couldn't even begin to understand. Neither of you chose to talk about it much, the shared glances you shot each other as you shrugged off your past and chose, fought, clawed for tooth and nail, to create a new life for yourself out here in the Sambas Region was something he respected. Admired, even. The two of you shared a past, true, but starting over was a commonality the former Cook Pirate could stoutly understand.

He knows that he should go easier on the pair of you, too. He knew what he had signed up for, when he met you both storming onto the Orbit all those years ago; when he had saved your shivering, despondent lives up on that desolate crag. The two of you had always been close: inseparable, even, from huddling together day in and day out on that rock, to sharing a room and cooking side by side on the Baratie. He knew the two of you, in some ways, better than he knew himself: recognised the signs of yearning, of perpetual adoration from day one. And yet he still found himself two teaspoon clatters away from yanking the hair off of his face when yet another customer comes strutting up to him, demanding compensation for an abysmal lack of service.

'Get your arses in here- now!'

It took you a few seconds to register the voice thundering out from the impact door, too busy trying to fan your face with one of the carded menus you were trying to stack away; Sanji, on the other hand, heard Zeff just fine. He was too preoccupied, absentmindedly placing a few empty champagne flutes onto his tray, while stealing glances in your direction. If his eyelids fluttered any harder, the candlesticks on table twelve would go out in a blazing blast.

Zeff jabbed his thumb in Sanji's direction and then back towards the inside of the kitchen, anger creasing the already wrinkled lines of his forehead like mettled waves in a storm. Realising he couldn't ignore the old sod's words any longer, Sanji sauntered up behind you and pressed his chest against your back. 'I think he's talking to us, sweetheart', he breathed against the shell of your ear, sending goose bumps shooting down your neck as his slender fingers reached round to fall delicately over your own. With a nudge of his nose against the back of your head, he intertwined your fingers and led you towards the back of the room. His free arm settled comfortably around your waist, his eyes staying so squarely on your gaze that he almost tripped over the poor old couple from table two, who were staggering up to collect their coats.

Zeff's groan could be heard out on the ships docked in the Baratie's port, even through the slatted fingers that were covering his drooping face.

As soon as the two of you had plonked down on a couple of seats near the kitchen's 'office' table, Zeff pounced on the two of you like a ravished vulture.

'Look', he stamped over, one hand on the side of his hip and the other still holding the spoon he had been whisking up a fresh batch of meringue with. 'I don't care what the two of you get up to during your free time. In fact, if it's anything worse than what you've already been spotted doing on the floor, I don't want to know.' Sanji guffawed, settling his thighs down further into his seat.

'But the two of you are starting to cause trouble for the business', Zeff continued with a earnest glare in Sanji's direction, his words aimed directly at the sous chef. 'For my business.'

'Our business', Sanji retorted, chewing the inside of his cheek and pointing with a circling finger between the three of you.

'In my restaurant.' Zeff leant forward, his nostrils flaring in a manner that you know meant trouble, but to your surprise Sanji dropped the issue; he grinded his teeth, but chose instead to grip onto your hand underneath the table and hold it against his knee. He knew what he owed Zeff. If not for saving his own life, than, more importantly, for saving yours.

'Even our patrons are starting to relay back to me that you, little donkey-', he jabbed the whipped edge of his wooden spoon straight towards your chest, 'and you, little eggplant-', the spoon gets whisked with a firm buttered splat against Sanji's cheek, 'are flaunting around each other, front of house no less, like two preening peacocks!'

Sanji tilted his head in your direction, doing his best to not further anger the already irate chef by pretending he is not very subtly dropping his eyeline down past the bridge of your nose and landing on your cupid's bow.

The side of your irises met his, and he goes breathless.

To no one's surprise, the flirtation doesn't go over Zeff's head, no matter how hard he's rubbing it. With his pointer and middle finger rubbing his temples and half-covering the rimosed dark-circles under his eyes, Sanji took the opportunity to lean over the arm of your chair and leave a sweet kiss against your cheek with puckered lips. You could feel his smile as he pulled away, and in retaliation you pulled your intertwined fingers up to your lips and peppered a few kisses against his knuckles, clasping it against your chin in a tight lock.

He takes it as a challenge: who can shower the other in more affection, and the soft brushes of his nose against the tip of your own is only interrupted by the slam of Zeff's spoon planking down on the table.

'I've had to deal with this for near twenty years now, and I swear-'

'We're not even twenty, Zeff', you chimed in, attention still fully centred on the dazed look clouding Sanji's lovestruck face as he hovered in front of you, nearly out of his chair by the point and falling onto your lap.

'Yeah, stop being dramatic old man.'

Sanji's words are chiding, but the way he watched you - god, the way he always watches you, the way he spends his whole life helplessly contemplating you is so soft. So serene. So overwhelming. Even though his eyes have lidded, falling down to peer almost lasciviously at the seam of your mouth, his distracted eyes are still so filled with wonder. Whether he had been five years old, locked up inside his father's dank, damp old dungeon, wasting away in the corner as the whole of his kingdom celebrated his death. When you had come, slamming the lock open with a stone you had spent a full half an hour tugging out of the circular cobbled wall, he had clambered into your lap and shoved his face straight into your neck. He had refused to move, only interrupting his desperate sniffles by alternating clenching his tiny fists into your shirt, and tilting his head to the side so he could look up at the side of your face with a childlike bewilderment. That first streak of light brightening in his enamoured eyes.

Whether he had been nine years old, laying his head on your lap and waiting anxiously for the sun to bleach his bones up on that rock, he had still looked at you wonder. Had looked up at you as if you reflected all the pockets of starlight in the universe and stored them in his eyes, and he had been ready there and then to decay, as long as he could be weaved within your atoms for all eternity.

Whether he had been nineteen, sitting next to you at the Baratie's kitchen table with all the cosmos now in his eyes, and so, so deliriously in love with you.

'I mean it,' Zeff huffed, head seesawing between the two of you (which wasn't too far, since your faces were resting roughly one inch apart.). 'One more googly eyes look at each other, and you're both scrubbing barnacles off the dock for the next month.'

'That's alright with me old man, as long as we can share a plank seat.' Sanji winked teasingly in your direction, and you're not sure whose face turns more rubescent: your flushing cheeks, or Zeff's ruddy ears as steam starts pouring out of them in rolls.

'Table seven's still waiting for their appetisers. Go. Now. While the two of you are still teetering on my more charitable side.'

The rest of the service goes past in a flash. The sound of your chopping from the far corner of the kitchen is met only with the sound of Sanji's intent whisking from the other, and the occasional 'oi, stop that', from Zeff when he comes marching through and spots you and Sanji eyeing each other up over your respective bowls.

Sanji had to stop looking over at you. If you met his earnest side-eye one more time before you got off for the night, trying to look away from how furiously Zeff's moustache was swinging with each steaming word he muttered out during the rest of the service, you were going to collapse onto the kitchen floor in a fit of giggles.

Evidently, Sanji seemed to be having a similar thought, albeit with one exception: he was making it his life's mission to try and get you to break. That mischievous spirit - that light heartedness and ability to face trouble head on and grin in it's face was exactly the thing that had saved him all those years ago in the Germa Kingdom, back when he was a child. It was one of the things, still, from a list that could reach the bottom of the ocean floor and continue down to the core of the world, that he found endearing about you.

He wanted to hear the sound of your laughter for the rest of his life, for it was the most blissful sound in the world to his eager heart.

He made it his mission to try and distract you: with a flick of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, pretending it was a subconscious action, he let his biceps strain through his dress shirt with the force of his chopping. By the sound of his breathy moans every time he lifted up his sautéing pan to his nose to smell the fresh sprigs of rosemary intermingle with the diced potatoes, you could tell he was toying for your attention.

With the last few orders starting to roll in from the dispersing crowd of diners, Sanji braved out across the kitchen to 'accidentally' bump into you at the sinks. As his hip snapped against yours, he leaned his elbow up on the counter and turned his body fully towards you, until the the front of his apron was shoved up against your belly button and he could go no further. Leaning over you, he pressed the jut of his chin into the top of your head and looked towards the door to make sure the coast was clear.

'You know, sweetheart, if he heard the name you were calling me up in our room last night I swear we could make his stupid moustache fly clean off.'

The corners of your eyes were still tearing up by the time you made it back to your chopping station; the other chefs side-eyed you with merry-meant distaste each time your knife slipped over the outer peel of your garlic as your stomach doubled over in laughter.

You might have made it - you really might have, if you hadn't been able to hear the sweet little huffs emitting from Sanji's side of the kitchen at the same time. Sanji bit his bottom lip and ducked his head back down towards his trout, focusing on his skilful descaling to try and hide his laughter.

The next time he waltzes by with a white chocolate panna cotta, he grazes his hip and elbow in a way that was both a little too tantalisingly close to your side, and creates the perfect opportunity for you to latch onto his elbow and pull him down behind the counter.

'Why are we crouching sweetheart?' He was desperately trying to stifle his smile by catching his teeth against the side of his bottom lip, but he couldn't help the way the corners twitched up at the sight of how flustered you were.

'Because if Zeff catches us again, he'll feed us to the fishes Sanji!'

'Well, it's a good thing that was my last dessert for the night, isn't it my cherie? Because I'm also on clean up duty, and I've just signed you up for it as well.'

Before you could stop him, Sanji has jumped up and is already waltzing back out into the middle of the kitchen.

'Oi, Patty! What do you think you're doing! Y/n and I are on clean up duty tonight, you know - on account of-'

'The two of you being insufferable. Yeah, what's new.' The poor cook just shakes his head and turns his attention back to scouring the grease out of his saucepan.

'Come on', Sanji holds out his arms wide', 'don't you want to help true love's wings blossom? Or at least get some well deserved sleep - tell me the truth, when was the last time you worked less than double shifts. Zeff's wringing you out to dry, and you know it.'

'I don't think so, kid.' Patty's shoulders droop, but he thumps the last few suds out of his pan and hangs it back up on its hook. 'Chef's already warned us about you two, and he's not adding my head to the pile.'

'I don't get it', pipes up the latest addition to the Baratie chef team - a straggler pirate, who had tried his luck sneaking out the door without paying his bill, and had soon found his face sliding across the tile when Zeff's wooden leg had knocked him flying. He shakes out his hands and dries them off with a tea towel, before snorting and rubbing his nose with the linen. 'Why doesn't the guy just split these idiots up?'

'Because the last time he tried it, troublemaker here spilled a fresh pot of béarnaise sauce all over his apron and half of the floor.' Patty's tone is austere, but even as he wipes off the last bits of water from the steel edges of his counter's sink, he can't help but let a fond smile escape across his face. 'Before Zeff could even finish kicking him out, he was already through the door. Poor Chef nearly threw a fit when he went out twenty minutes later to find him, and he was sitting coddling on Y/n's lap behind the bar.'

'Yeah yeah yeah', Sanji laughs, sauntering over to the light switches behind the apron rack and knocking them off with an ostentatious throw of his arm. 'Goodnight, everyone!'

Patty sighs, but obliges. 'If Chef catches you, you're on your own', the man threatens with raised eyebrows as he walks out of the door Sanji props open with the toe of his shoe, but your boyfriend just shrugs light-heartedly.

'Subtle, by the way.'

Sanji pats the man's shoulder and grins. 'I can't help it if three's a crowd now, can I?'

As soon as the door sweeps to a close, your boyfriend's almost flown across the room to spin you around in his arms, your toes barely gracing the floor as he flings you about.

'Finally! Alone at last my love! Do you understand-', he interrupts himself with a kissing peck against your lips, 'how hard-, and another, 'it is to not kiss you every second of service?? I swear, it's torture!' From anyone else the sentiment may have sounded churlishly facetious, but from Sanji the words were so sincere that it almost made your heart melt into a pool of butter by his feet.

'Sanji, we really should get to bed. If Zeff catches us, we're going to be sent out on restroom attendant duty again', you groan, doing your best but hardly succeeding in trying to unlatch Sanji's ravishing hands from off your sides. Instead, his arms wrap tightly around your spine and his palms flatten against your back as he holds you against his thuddering heart.

'My precious life, from what I can remember, you got us back onto the main floor pretty quickly.' His lips land heavily on the top of your head, and you can't help the coarse shockwave of pleasure that floods through your body at the feel. Languidly, he allows his lips to slip down your forehead, softly tilting your head back so he can sweetly lick a wet trail down the side of your cheek.

'That's because Zeff got tired of arguing with me', you huff out, but you don't complain when you feel Sanji's hands roam down to cup the joints between your upper thighs and buttocks. With a hoarse pant against the side of your chin, his fingers dig into the meat and pull your legs up to his waist. You oblige, and allow him to pick you up and delicately place you back down on the sink counter.

'See, no problem!', his lips twitch as he walks between your opening legs, settling himself firmly against your groin as you wrap your ankles in a cross behind his legs. You nip playfully at his earlobe, and he swears he's about to pass out.

With short, panted breaths, he manages to finish his thought. 'Besides, that's why he calls you little donkey, isn't it? Because you always kick back.' His lips ghost a chuckle over the pulse point throbbing on your neck, and you have to do your best to clench your thighs together to stop yourself from whimpering.

'Is this alright, sweetheart?', he asks breathlessly, swiping the flat tip of his tongue out against a sensitive spot, one he knows lies right above your collar bone.

'God- yes', you reply, gripping some curls by the nape of his neck and tugging. 'I've been waiting to do this all bloody day.' He whines, his lips reverberating the sound so its muffled against the side of your neck.

That won't do. That won't do at all. You want to hear all the pretty sounds Sanji can make. Want to make him feel as loved: as wanted, as revered as he's made you feel your whole life.

In reprisal, you snake your hand down, making sure to capture his whimpers with your open, awaiting mouth as your fingers scratch over the taut muscles of his abdomen. When you finally reach down to cup the growing pressure straining against his trousers, he bucks forward against you and nearly knocks your teeth out.

His whimpers are drowned out by muttered, fervent, worried apologies, but you only giggle and silence him with a supplicating kiss.

'But we really should stop and go to bed, Sanj. We make enough trouble around here as it is.' You say the words, but you don't really mean them. Not when you can feel the tip of his finger run slowly... slowly... god! So agonisingly slowly up your inner thigh as he folds the bend of your ear over with a crushing kiss, his lips falling open clumsily as his inner mouth drags plumply across your temple, before running down to suck at your neck.

'Stop? I can barely stop thinking about you, every waking and sleeping second of my day. But if you want to stop, I will my sweet. I'd do anything in the world for you.'

You cup his face with your hands, and with a smile bring him down so you can rest the side of your cheek against his own burning one. He can feel his chest flittering at the feel of your stretching smile burning against his skin: at the feel of your legs tightening their vice around his thighs until he had stumbled forward, body fully resting atop your own now.

'Don't you dare stop now', you giggle. 'I kind of want to see Zeff's mustache fly off, now that I think about it.'

The sound of your and Sanji's roaring laughter is interrupted by the crash of the swing door against the wall, and the looming shadow of the Head Chef trembling up the rocking ceiling.

'Right, forget scraping barnacles. The two of you are going to be swimming with them in a minute!'

#one piece #one piece imagine #sanji #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla #opla imagine #zeff

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