#onboard drift

[tofupowar]

First time at this track, new setup and extremely hot weather was a challenge. Shoutout to all friends for being there

[zazter-den]

So, uh, this ffxiv Kirishima rabbithole rapidly turned into a pit- Reaper!Kiri x Reader x Voidsent!Bakugou has been added to the WIPs

[intertexts-moving]

remind me 2 change the link in my pinned to blue chair by morcheeba when i get back to desktop btw

[queer-scots-geordie-dyke]

It's difficult to be in left wing/liberal spaces (online and off) at the moment because the conversation always seems to drift to Israel/Palestine and there is a huge assumption (in left wing spaces among left wing people) that because you are (for example) an environmentalist or a supporter of trans people you are automatically pro-Palestine and anti-Israel too. I find myself having to ignore A LOT of hatred toward Jewish people these days from places and people I used to feel almost completely onboard with. I am not Jewish but I can vividly imagine, if I were, how devastating this realization would be. How suddenly unwelcome I would feel. How it would make me think "wow there really is nowhere besides Israel that is safe to be Jewish".

I have found myself switching to donating to Israeli environmental organizations and Israeli LGBTQ spaces because the UK-based ones I used to support keep posting about Palestine and the evil of Israel and I just can't with that.

The feminist spaces, the environmental spaces, the LGBTQ spaces, musicians I used to love.. I've stopped going, I've unfollowed. It's depressing. But I will NOT support anti-semitism. I will NOT support terrorism. I will NOT support Arab Muslim colonialism and expansionism. I will NOT support revisionist history or fundamentalist Islamist ideology. I will NOT infantilize Palestinians and regard them patronisingly as simply poor helpless victimized brown people that righteous white people must defend. I just won't. I don't care how trendy it becomes in left wing circles. I won't do it. I support my Israeli friends and Jewish people at large. I sympathize with them. I agree with Israelis right to defend themselves, their right to exist as a country and their ancient connection to the land. I even understand their anger. And no that doesn't make me a "genocide apologist" or a "baby killer" or a "zio-nazi" (ffs) no matter how many times those accusations are repeated. Good grief.

I'd say 'I despair' but truly I do not. I do have hope. I hope some of my former friends and peers will eventually come around. I hope they'll be embarrassed and sorry. I don't expect it but I hope. I will continue to be an environmentalist. I will continue to be a feminist. I will continue to support LGBTQ rights. I will not be pushed out of those spaces or away from those things by another subject I disagree with. I understand enough about propaganda and history and peer pressure and group think to endure and try to be forgiving (in advance.) But lord I'd be lying if I said it wasn't disappointing and disheartening and occasionally terrifying seeing and hearing people I know (thought I knew) and love (loved?) suddenly donning keffiyehs and waving signs with the Star of David crossed out on them (or re-drawn as a swastika.) And the utter lack of willingness to even try to see things from another perspective.

I could have written every single word of this myself - it’s been an incredibly disheartening experience seeing people and organisations I had so much respect for, who have done and continue to do amazing work in other areas, lose the plot completely and forget and betray every single one of their own ideals when it comes to Israel and to Jews in general. It’s like this monstrous antisemitism was lying dormant in so many people, just waiting to be awakened and the fact that it was a massacre where Israelis were the victims that did it disgusts me on so deep a level I don’t have words adequate to describe it.

They can pretend all they like that it’s the war that they’re protesting, that it’s because they care so much about the Palestinians, but it’s all bollocks. Innocent Israelis were being raped and tortured and massacred and kidnapped and these fuckers were celebrating while it was still happening and they were rallying in the streets protesting against Israel before they’d even fired a single retaliatory shot and before their dead were even cold. They pretend to give a shit about Palestinians, but where the fuck are they when the people of Gaza are rising up against Hamas and being tortured and murdered by their favourite terrorist idols for daring to oppose them? If they can’t blame the eternal scapegoat, they don’t give a shit.

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

One shot IDW Megatron x Reader where they are a medic back in the mines before the war happens and some way some how they meet again at the Lost Light, pls?

♡ "KNOWING YOUR PAST" — Megatron [IDW]

im not sure if i have written the very well but i tried my best! i love IDW megs so i get nervous when writing him. i literally love him so much its not even funny-

scenario: a medic and ex-warlord thrown into a room because the captain sensed tension. cue awkward catching up.

setting: aboard the Lost Light, Rodimus locked you in a room with your ex-crush

Being on the Lost Light after Megatron opted to make the war shattering decision to become an Autobot, he's been retrospecting. Especially with the time he's had on the ship. While most of the crew weren't exactly friendly with him, he wouldn't really blame them. If someone started a war which killed off most of everyone you know and ruined your entire planet and Megatron had to share a ship with that individual? He wouldn't be pleased either.

But Megatron is learning. Empathy, introspection. It's a “journey to find himself”, just like how that Deadlock, now known as Drift put it.

Back then, he never really bothered to retrospect. His ego claimed he was far too high for such a thing but now, the weight of his actions have been crushing him with unmistakable and unspeakable regret. That much is true. And so, it's almost like he hesitates to think of the past. Not that he doesn't want to retrospect— It's a part of growth, he's come to recognize that.

But then… there's you.

And by Primus, does he want to avoid you…

He has been. Wonderfully. So far at least. And you seem to understand that, walking away from his general direction the moment he's in your periphery. You're pretty much avoiding him too. Quite simple to do given how he's dark and brooding, you definitely don't seem to be interested in mingling with those types. Or really, anyone at all. You are quiet here. Almost as forgettable as Rung to the others. But of course, not to Megatron.

You're like a relic from his past in every sense. You were there from the start as a miner, then briefly as a medic in the gladiatorial pits of Kaon, then a short while in service of the Decepticons as a field medic before becoming a neutral and then shifting to a full time Autobot Medical Officer. It's quite the story— you've seen him from every perspective and watched him grow from every angle. A quiet observer. And somehow, he's managed to encounter you every single time when you're in a new phase of your life— He doesn't understand how. It's like the universe was playing some sparkdamn prank on him. You've managed to encounter him enough times to know him well enough.

Yet he doesn't know a single thing about you.

And so, it is painfully awkward to be here with you, again. It's like the two of you were destined to meet only ever in the most awkward pretense possible and Megatron would've wanted to personally crush Rodimus’ helm open for that had he been his younger, ruthless self but he keeps telling himself that he's a better mech now. He isn't sure how many “I'm a better bot now” he has left in him as the you and him are now stuck in this room together. Rodimus said something about the ‘awkward tension’ between the two of you creating ‘disharmony in the balance and the crew dynamic’ but before Megatron could ask what fragging balance the speedster was yapping on about, he was promptly thrown into this room with you. He suspects Rodimus somehow brought either Ultra Magnus or Fortress Maximus onboard with this idea and that baffles him.

He knows you probably feel the same way the rest of the crew feels, the silence between the two of you is deafening. Megatron’s black digits gently tap the surface of the seat he's sitting on while you seem to be busy fidgeting with your own digits, looking down away from him, as if you were dragged in here against your will as well. He empathises with you.

The bench you two sit on is connected to the wall. Megatron looks down at your seated figure, almost coy. But it's the sheer awkwardness of this situation that's weighing on him. You… really haven't changed a bit from your time at the mines. He can almost remember it fondly.

You were a young miner like him but fortunate enough to stumble upon thrown away medical datapads, using them to train yourself to be an unofficial medic of sorts. It's not like you could afford to take the license to be an official medical practitioner but it was admirable nonetheless; working double shifts but still teaching yourself the fundamentals of Cybertronian anatomy— especially for frames of the lower classes like the two of you were. Perhaps it was your determination he admired or maybe your kindness— you were willing to use what you learnt to help others down there, including himself. Even gave him pointers, enough to take care of minor injuries by himself and he did always want to be a medic.

Primus, the way he used to look at you back then. It's embarrassing, Megatron's opinion. The two of you are much, much older than then now so it's not like those feelings linger. You probably didn't even know his designation was back then, too awkward to say anything to you and he remembers how spark-crushing it felt when you first addressed him as ‘Impactor's friend’.

Don't even get him started on the embarrassing amount of poetry—

“You… You still into poetry?” You ask and in turn break the suffocating silence, finding the strength to look up at him despite the sheer awkwardness from this entire confrontation. You probably expected to spend more time at the medbay with Ratchet instead of being cooped up in a room with the ex-Warlord himself. It seems you're still kind & generous, generous enough to spare him from having to think of something to say. Megatron shifts in his seat uncomfortably, your Tarnian accent, the informality of it, it reminds him of the mines; it's nostalgic in a way.

“You… know of my poetry?” He replies, somewhat surprised you'd remember. But keeping his composure. Megatron didn't really share any of his works to his fellow miners, only ever publishing them under his pen-name. You just blink at him confused, you backstruts straightening a little as you sit with proper posture, almost as if you're alert.

“Of course, I do! Remember when you got off that rocket fuel Impactor smuggled and—”

“Please. Do not. Don't… Don't remind me of that.” The moment you mentioned rocket fuel and Impactor smuggling, the memory hit him like a flash bang. His tone is quiet, not dangerously quiet but the sort of quiet you have when your mother embarrasses you in front of her friends. Megatron felt oddly.. small at that moment, in a way he's never felt. You still remember that!? Oh Primus. It's nostalgic but it wasn't one of his proudest moments. Drunk off his aft from cheap smuggled fuel and proceeded to recite poetry to a small audience, he must've been too intoxicated to realize you were there that day.

Megatron fails to realize that he's accidentally shut down your attempt at conversation and you go quiet. Looking back down at your servos, you're back to fidgeting your digits.

More awkward silence ensues.

Every astrocycle feels like vorns.

Megatron sighs. It's his turn. He needs to get a grip of himself. He's cold and calculative but it seems he can't control what he feels as if he's some sparkdamn newly-built fresh off the assembly. He takes in a vent, just to prepare himself. Conversation has never felt so frustrating before.

Megatron feels nothing for you. He knows that. It's been eons since he's seen you the last time, the way your frame looks slightly worn is proof of that. To be blunt, the two of you are relics of the past. Whatever happened in those mines, stays in those mines was what he always told himself. But that might not be what you tell yourself. Megatron has to remind himself of that, the nostalgia weighs in on his old spark— He feels younger somehow, sitting next to you. Too conscious about himself to really say a word to you despite his subtle interest you were oblivious to.

“Did you.. like my poetry?” He asks, his optics slowly moving to look over at you. Megatron's helm unmoving as his servos are crossed over his chassis, he looks as disinterested as ever despite his internal conflict on what to say. A naturally cold face which took a lot of effort for him to keep.

“Well…” You take a moment to recall his drunken words. “I think an opinion would've been possible if you weren't slurring over your words.” You smile a bit, it's a fond smile. You don't seem to have the same… sadness Megatron has when recalling the mines.

“Hm. Shame I don't have the original copy then.” He mumbles out, trying not to feel anything from that smile. No. No, you deserve so much better than him. You were just a silly crush to him, nothing more. Most of his poetry was unfortunately destroyed by the functionists after his relocation to Messatine.

Megatron remembers so well— How your rough digits would fix his faceplates with such soft gentleness that only a lover could replicate or how your servos would tenderly hold onto his dislocated stabilizing servo after a cave in, before the sharp pain shooting up his frame when you give it a rough but precise yank. You've saved his life more times than he can count, really.

“What was I even reciting about? It's astonishing how you can even remember that.” He asks, filling in the silence. His helm turned over to look at as you hum, trying to recall.

“Something about a lover's caress and sparks that heal.” You say as you think. His frame stiffens and goes thankfully unnoticed by you.

Megatron wrote that one about you.

“Ah. Well.. hm.. That wasn't my proudest work.” He says, taking a sharp in-vent before he hums, almost flustered. Almost. The stone-faced facade was easy to keep up, years after commanding a war made it appear natural.

“Oh, I thought it was beautiful. Really… spark touching.” You reassure and it somehow makes the odd flustered-ness arise in his spark, it's foreign. He hasn't felt this way in millennia. Your response is earnest but you seem to struggle to find the exact words, much like himself. A relief. It's not just him that's struggling with Rodimus’ idiocy. “Even if you were slurring them out. I just wish more of it was actually intelligible.” You add on.

“At least it wasn't as embarrassing as I thought it must've been.” Megatron mumbles as he leans against the wall with a sigh. He remembers when Impactor told him what happened, Megatron never put his servos on rocket fuel ever again.

“Do you still write?” You ask, looking at him with curiosity. Refusing to allow the awkward silence creep into the conversation again.

“Last time I wrote something, it triggered a civil war.” Megatron's gruff voice sounds somewhat tired— He loved writing. Megatron managed to write a few poems here and there as a gladiator even but once the war started, he had almost no time at all for his forgotten hobby. Four million years out of practice until recently.

You just laugh a bit at his dry humor.

“I meant poetry, not philosophy or politics.”

Megatron pauses for a moment. He did have some poems. Considering has quite literally no one to converse with on this ship means he has his free time despite his co-captainly duties.

“Well,” He starts off with a somewhat softer tone. “I have been.. practicing as of late. A lot more free time than I'm accustomed to.” He admits, Megatron is really not used to having nothing to do— which is both relieving and frustrating. Megatron has so many questions to ask you but he doesn't know how to. How did you end up being a medic at the gladiatorial pits he was in? Why did you become a Decepticon? Why did you become neutral for a short while? What turned you to the Autobots?

“Yes, that's a good way to keep yourself occupied. I usually just… sculpt things.”

Oh. You sculpt? Megatron didn't know that. He's going to take a mental note of that. His helm turns towards you, crimson optics narrowing curiously at you. There's so much he doesn't know.

“You sculpt?”

You nod. “Yes, I wanted to be a sculptor. I like making things.” You add on. You're quiet and well-mannered. Probably because the two of you are much older now, of course you'd be more mature. At least it makes it easier for him to converse with you. Megatron finds an odd sense of irony in your words.

“Hm. I wanted to be a medic.” Megatron mutters out, looking at your face sends a rush of somber nostalgia.

“I remember. You told me when I was fixing your face after–”

“The cave-in at sector Delta 12.” Megatron finishes your sentence, he didn't mean to interrupt but you just seemed to remember everything. It surprises him. You gave him some pointers on how to fix himself after that incident. That was the first time he met you, Impactor said he knew someone that could give Megatron a quick fix— Megatron didn't really have the financial situation to pay for any of the medics, not to mention how atrocious their prices were so he hesitantly agreed.

“How do you remember all of that?” Megatron asks with a surprising amount of sincerity. You keep digging up old memories the war had washed away with its tides, memories beneath layers of sand.

“Hm. I'm actually not sure. I just do.” You shrug. Perhaps this was a reminder as to how far from his path he had deviated, to a point where even the fonder memories he had as a miner were buried. They were surviving under the Senate but not living, so the younger Megatron threw away all he knew from the mines. Everything other than hate and anger.

“I suppose my memories of you stuck with me because I… uhm…” He notices your hesitance and quirks up an optical ridge, you're struggling to find the words just like him. There is a subtle heat from your faceplates as you're sitting there.

“I had a liking of sorts.. towards you.”

For a moment, Megatron’s world stopped spinning and his crimson optics widened a bit— Had he been that young miner from Tarn, he would have rejoiced on the inside and been a clueless mess on the outside. Maybe even wrote a poem about it when he got to his excuse of a living space.

“You.. You did?” Megatron is not sure what else to ask.

You once again nod but slower, almost like you're embarrassed. It's sort of hilarious to think about, a four million year old delayed confession.

“I'd rather not talk about it but I liked how soft-spoken and polite you were. Smart and real poetic. I thought that was attractive.” Your admission might've made him smile a bit. A bit.

The universe has a strange sense of humor. That was the only conclusion Megatron could draw because his spark was back to its fluttering like it used to when he saw you back then and he had to physically stop himself from thinking about punching his chassis to make it stop.

He still barely knew you.

Megatron is not a young miner anymore.

But again, Primus knows how long Rodimus intends to keep the two of you here.

Ah. To the Pit with it. He's getting the chance he never got back then. Might as well use it to get to know you better. You don't seem to be as hesitant as conversing with him as compared to the rest.

awkward moments with an ex-warlord because your captain wants to drive Megs insane

[emchante]

softcore siren | m. verstappen

warnings: 18+/ suggestive — minors dni.

softcore porn streamer max has been in my mind all day for some reason, so i wanted to get this little thing out for me + @thef1diary seeing as she was so onboard with it too. definitely want to delve into this more!! drop into my inbox and hit me with your thoughts on this! <3

softcore porn streamer! max verstappen is a man you accidentally stumble across one day when scrolling through the ‘just chatting’ category. the thumbnail for the stream is a still image of max in a shirt that fits his chest snuggly, strong arms bulging slightly as he has his arms crossed at his front.

he’s an attractive man— you can’t deny that— so you decide fuck it, and click onto the stream.

as soon as the stream and chat loads, you’re hit with a mix of of thirsting messages in the side bar, and max’s low, accented voice as he spoke to everyone. he isn’t talking about anything specific, just chatting away and answering any questions he can see in the flurry of horny messages.

suddenly he lets out a warm laugh, and it’s unexpectedly charming. “alright, alright,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “i see your messages. i see what you’re here for, calm down. we’ll get to it,” he winks, leaning right to the camera momentarily as he shifts himself upwards to sit in a more comfortable position. the eye contact through the screen causes a breath to catch in your throat.

as max sits back he stretches right up, allowing his shirt to ride up and give the viewers a sliver of stomach. you couldn’t deny your eyes scanned the area the full time it was on screen, silently begging it to go even further. then, max moved his hands behind his head, allowing his arms to flex with his muscles bulging through the-short sleeved shirt. his softer chest area became more defined as the shirt tugged against it, until he allowed his arms to fall to his side.

he topped it all off with what could only be described as a soft moan, his eyes fluttered shut and his freckled lip curving into a smile.

your eyes drifted to his chat once more, watching the flood of messages be sent in as max teased his body, adding a moan at the end of his little show. some people were begging him to flex his arms again, for him to go shirtless, whereas others took a more meme-like approach. ‘do you need a bra for them?’, for example.

you wanted to join in on the fun, so you did. you didn’t say anything extreme, more-so joining the thirsty comments but keeping your own tame. a simple ‘god, you’re so fine?’, allowing it to get buried within the pile.

but it didn’t.

your eyes widened as your chat was highlighted with ‘first time chatter’, and fuck— since when was that a thing?

max seems to catch sight, raising a brow as he catches your comment and the fact you’re new. “oh? we have a new chatter, guys. welcome in,” he smiles, looking to the camera and winking. “appreciate the compliment.”

your breath caught in your throat at him reacting to your message and greeting you, that you didn’t even catch the amount of welcomes you got from his regulars. there were even a few ‘she’s so lucky??’ from others.

max grins before leaning back in his chair, his crossed arms resting over his front again. this time though he was pushed back a little more, allowing him to lift his foot onto his chair as he perched into a position where his thighs were in shot. and shit— you were not expecting that.

his grin only widened as the chat had another outburst about him, commenting about his thighs and what they wanted to do to them. though he was reading them, he had ignored them and went back to what the previous topic. “aww, no other message from newbie?” he fake pouted, before peering right into the camera lens once more. “don’t worry though, everyone starts out shy, confused. you’ll figure out soon enough why you’re here.”

and the thing is— he’s right. you do find out why you’re here.

you stay on the stream much longer than you had intended to, watxhing as he balances humour, flirtation, and just the right amount of teasing and mischief. you realise his fans aren’t just obsessed with his looks— they’re drawn to the way he makes everyone feel seen, chats to them like he would any other person.

by the end of the stream, you’re still not entirely sure how you got sucked into max verstappen— the softcore porn streamer on twitch’s front page. but as you close the tab for the night, your cheeks are hot and there’s a lingering smile on your face.

one things for certain: this wouldn’t be the last time.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3

[aventurineswife]

thank😭 god😭 your req is open😭

Anyway, can i request AE Sunday x Cheerful reader who showers him with a lot of affection? Like a lot of pda(holding hand, hugging him, complimenting him, etc) and um, perhaps the reader love language is gifting gift and physical touch too. I think i just love AE Sunday so much

Love your works! Have a great dayy <3

“To Be Held, and To Heal”

Summary: Onboard the Astral Express, you find yourself drawn to Sunday—a composed yet quietly conflicted figure with a celestial air. With your cheerful nature and love language rooted in physical touch and gift-giving, you shower him with affection, praise, and unexpected joy. As your warmth gently unravels his guarded exterior, Sunday grapples with his ideals, past traumas, and the unfamiliar feeling of being genuinely loved. Through every hug, compliment, and handmade token, you remind him that happiness isn’t just a dream—it can be real, and it can be his.

Tags: Sunday x Cheerful!Reader, Fluff, Comfort, PDA, Gift Giving, Physical Touch, Emotional Healing, Slow Burn Affection, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soft Sunday, Protective Sunday, Love Language, Reader-Initiated Romance, Dreamscape Themes.

Warnings: Mentions of past emotional trauma and guilt, Brief references to religious trauma and disillusionment, Soft emotional vulnerability.

A/N: Thank you and you too!! <333

Sunday wasn’t used to this.

To the warmth. The hands that reached for his without hesitation. The arms that looped around his waist while the stars outside the Astral Express whirled by like fireflies in a jar. The little gifts you left by his door—handmade, thoughtful, wrapped with crooked ribbons and hope.

You were sunlight through stained glass. Brilliant, blinding at times—but never painful.

He often wondered what it was about you that made his wings tremble when you smiled at him like that. Maybe it was the way you loved so openly, without shame or fear. A kiss on the cheek when passing in the hallway. Fingers intertwined as if it were natural to be connected, anchored. You never asked him to change. You simply... gave.

And Sunday, for all his lofty ideals and celestial poise, didn't know what to do with that kind of love.

You caught him reading again, curled up in the observation car with the dim planetary glow casting gentle shadows across his features. His halo hummed faintly, eye-symbols glowing like quiet sentinels.

“Sunday!” You plopped down beside him, startling a soft flutter from the wings behind his ears.

His gaze drifted up to meet yours, calm as a lake. “You always enter like joy itself.”

You grinned, unabashed. “And you always talk like you're narrating a dream.”

You scooted closer. His tailcoat brushed your side. Then, without pause, you leaned your head on his shoulder, hands seeking his like magnets. He hesitated—but only for a breath—before lacing his fingers with yours.

“Did you like the little gift I left you?” you asked. “The carved dove?”

His eyes softened. “It reminded me of home. And of you. Which... I suppose is the same thing now.”

Your heart did a flip. He had no idea the way your name sounded from his lips—like a prayer finally spoken aloud.

He wasn't perfect with touch. Not at first. His responses were tentative, awkward even. A wing that twitched when you kissed his cheek. A slow, stunned pause when you gifted him a handmade charm stitched with tiny stars.

But over time, he began to respond.

A hand placed gently on your back during conversations. A thumb brushing your knuckles beneath the dining car table. His halo tilting ever so slightly toward you—something you learned was his version of leaning in.

One evening, you found him alone in the observatory room, standing near the glass wall where galaxies stretched endlessly across the dark canvas of space. The starlight caught the edge of his halo, illuminating the soft lines of his face.

He was gazing at nothing—and everything.

You didn’t have to ask what he was thinking about. You knew.

“I used to think... if I could give the world peace through dreams, that would be enough,” he said quietly, eyes following the trail of a comet as it arced through the void.

You stepped beside him, the reflection of your silhouette joining his in the glass, and gently wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

“But you forgot that peace means nothing if you can’t feel it for yourself.”

His breath hitched—just a little. He closed his eyes and leaned back into you, your presence grounding him like gravity. Trusting. Soft.

“I still don’t know if I deserve this.”

You kissed the spot beneath his halo, right where his hair fell against his neck. “Then let me keep reminding you until you believe it.”

Sunday wasn't used to this. But he was learning.

To love in the light, not just the dream.

To hold your hand and not look away.

To return your smile with one of his own—quiet, reverent, full of wonder.

And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe...

that joy wasn't something to protect others from.

It was something to be held. Given. Shared.

Like a gift.

Like a touch.

Like you.

I actually liked the ending wtf...

[judesmoonbeauty]

Once More, An Evil From Which You Can't Return Part 2: Jude Jazza END

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

The ending contains some spoilers for Jude's main story.

Kate: …..I never thought that you’d invite me on a trip, Jude.

Several days after going to Raven Ltd., and getting kidnapped by someone holding a grudge against Jude, I was now aboard a train with Jude.

Jude: I think it’s worth pleasin’ my lover every now ‘n then.

(It makes my heart skip a beat when I hear Jude call me his lover, but I think I'm starting to get used to him treating me like a lover.)

Jude: Traveled like this with ya b’fore.

Kate: Really?!

I never imagined that Jude would be so devoted to his girlfriend.

Flower Boy: How about some beautiful flowers? ……Oh!

A flower boy who came onboard at the station where the train stopped, suddenly looked at me with widened eyes.

Flower Boy: It’s been a while, Miss Damned-Nobody

Kate: Miss Damned….Nobody?

I tilt my head at the rude phrase, while Jude chuckles quietly next to me.

(Was it Jude who said “damned nobody”? Then….)

Kate: Hey, maybe….Have I met you before?

Flower boy: Yep! You were on the train with that scary-looking mister over there.

(So, it was true that we had traveled together before. I'm sorry I doubted you.)

After buying flowers from the boy, the train leaves the station and rattles away.

(It seems certain that Jude cared about me.)

Enveloped in this warm feeling as I was rocked by the train……I drifted off into a pleasant sleep before I knew it.

And then, I woke up—

Innkeeper: Oh, you're awake? It's been a while, Lady Kate!

Kate: What….?

Because of my recent worrying over my memory loss, it seems I fell into a deep sleep, and had been transported to an unknown location before I knew it.

(Where am I? And…..)

Looking at the woman speaking to me in a friendly manner, I tilt my head.

I’m sure Jude and I were aboard the train together, but there’s not sign of him near me.

As I looked around anxiously, the woman suddenly looked up, as if she had just remembered something.

Innkeeper: Ohh…..that’s right. You’ve lost your memory, haven’t you, my lady? Have you forgotten me as well?

Innkeeper: I’m the owner of this inn. You’ve stayed here before to recuperate, my lady.

Kate: I see.

Just as I was finally able to understand the situation and feel relieved, the voice of the inn’s owner suddenly began to tremble.

Innkeeper: Just when I thought you were finally feeling better, the next thing I know is that you’ve lost your memory! What a poor young lady….!

Innkeeper: Your brother has paid for your lodging, so you should relax here for a while.

(Hm? From what she just said, Jude’s my “brother”??)

Apparently, when I stay at this inn, Jude is my older brother.

Knowing Jude, I figure he must have some kind of intention behind it, so I smiled wryly at the mysterious setting, and gazed out at the sea from my room at the inn.

(More importantly, where’s Jude….? He couldn’t have just returned home and left me behind……)

However, it seems like my premonition was true, as Jude never showed up….no matter how much I waited.

A few days passed, and I still hadn’t heard anything. The innkeeper couldn’t bear seeing me like that, so she took me out to a small festival in town.

The row of stalls were filled with bustling people, so I forgot my gloomy feelings and joined crowd.

I had a lot of fun getting an unexpectedly high score in horseshoes, and the freshly baked cheese waffles were delicious.

….But, I simply can’t feel better.

Woman Passerby: Pardon me. Do you happen to know the time?

A passerby asked me this while I waited for the innkeeper who was in line at a stall.

Kate: Umm, now it’s…..

Unconsciously, I searched for something and suddenly became startled…….

Kate: I’m sorry, I don’t know either.

Woman Passerby: I see. Excuse me.

I see the woman off with a parting greeting, and stare vacantly at my hands.

(What was I….trying to find earlier?)

I unconsciously felt around my waist, knowing that I was always wearing something.

Not knowing what it was, I continued searching for it even after returning to the inn.

(That was a gift from Jude and it was very precious to me, but…..)

Kate: I’ve always had it, how long has it been gone?

As I frantically search for something I couldn’t even identify, I heard a voice coming from the door.

Jude: ….This what yer lookin’ fer?

Kate: Jude?! How long have you been there…..?

Kate: And that pocket watch……!

(That’s right. That’s what I’ve been searching for—)

[Flashback to Main Story]

Kate: This belongs to you, doesn’t it Jude? Here, I’ll return it.

Jude: It’s yers.

Jude: Ya were starin’ with longin’ at my pocket watch the other day werent’cha?

[Flashback Ends]

Kate: I was……looking for the pocket watch you gave me, Jude.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as memories flood my mind.

Jude: Toldja the time’s outta sync, but ya were actin’ like a spoilt brat not wantin’ to let it go.

Jude: So, I got it fixed during yer memory loss.

Even though it was such a lame lie, my vision grew blurry and I was overcome with love for Jude.

Kate: Jude….is our promise still valid?

[Flashback to Main Story]

Kate: I have a request.

Kate: ……Take me to the moon.

[Flashback Ends]

The words I gently spoke to Jude, were the most important promise in the world — the moment I decided to continue to curse Jude.

Jude: …..It’s valid as long as ya remember it.

That instant, strong arms snatch me away, as if to steal my heart…….

All of the feelings that had been bottled up somewhere inside Jude’s heart suddenly spilled out.

Kate: I’m sorry I forgot. I said I would take responsibility.

Jude: Really. Ya can’t just curse someone ‘n forget ‘bout it.

Jude: Yer gonna be punished when we get back.

Jude smirks and pulls me by the hand.

Kate: Jude, where are we going?

Jude: We can still catch the last train.

Innkeeper: Oh my, have you regained your memory already, my lady?

Innkeeper: But it’s so sad to see you leave so soon.

Innkeeper: Despite being so close to each other, you were each out doing different things, so why not stay another day and go out as brother and sister?

Kate: Despite being close to each other?

Innkeeper: Yes, my lady. Your brother’s room was right next to yours.

Jude: …..Tch, forgot to tell ‘er to keep quiet.

I hear Jude murmuring very quietly.

Kate: What?! Ju— I mean, my brother didn’t leave me at the inn and return to London?

Innkeeper: Your brother seemed extremely worried about you, my lady.

Innkeeper: Whenever you went out somewhere, he followed behind you, my lady…..

(That’s how he happened upon me at the right time when I was looking for my pocket watch.)

(Even though I was unaware…..he was watching over me the entire time.)

(Ah, but….)

Kate: Was it okay for you to do that with work at the company?

Jude: It ain’t okay. So, I’ll work ya hard fer it too.

(I-I knew it…!)

I dread what kind of work I’ll be given to do once we return to London.

(I feel like I hear a bit of the normal abuse returning….)

Jude: The hell ya grinnin’ about, it’s creepy.

[Back at London]

We arrive back at Crown Castle just as the day is changing.

Kate: Hm…I feel so at ease, like I’ve come home.

Jude: Tomorrow I’ll tell ‘em yer memory’s back. Otherwise they’ll wake up ‘n raise a ruckus.

Kate: Yeah, and I know that I’ve been resting, but since there’s work tomorrow, I want to go to sleep as soon as possible.

Jude: …..Fine, sleep.

Jude said while pushing me down onto the bed.

Jude: If ya can sleep, that is.

Kate: Huh, wh-Jude?!

Jude: Ain’t just work ya took time off from, innit?

Jude: Been holdin’ back so much, can’t stand it any longer, I just wanna make ya cry.

[Master List] [Epilogue + Maid POV]

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway

[angelluv16]

Late-Night Love Confessions

Max Verstappen x gf!reader

✩: Max can’t sleep—not when you’re in his arms, too warm, too perfect. In the quiet of the night, love slips out effortlessly, just like the way he holds you close.

pairing: max verstappen x gf!reader

request: no!!

warnings: None! Just Extreme fluff

-------------------------✩-------------------------

Max had a bad habit of staying up too late. It wasn’t always for the right reasons—sometimes it was a race replay, other times it was just scrolling through his phone, getting lost in videos of onboard laps and old interviews. But tonight? Tonight, it was because of you.

“I should sleep,” he mumbled, voice thick with exhaustion.

“You should,” you agreed, but you made no move to untangle yourself from where you were lying half on top of him, your fingers lazily tracing patterns over his chest.

Max sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “You’re the reason I can’t.”

“Oh?” You propped yourself up, chin resting on his sternum, your eyes teasing but filled with warmth. “Blaming me now, how dare you?”

A slow, sleepy smirk tugged at his lips. “Ja mijn schat you’re too comfortable.”

You laughed, soft and quiet in the dim light of the bedroom. “And that’s a problem because…?”

“Because now I don’t want to move.” His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. “Ever.”

Your breath caught, heart flipping over itself at the way he looked at you—like you were the one thing in the world he never wanted to let go of.

“I think I can live with that,” you murmured, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Max hummed, eyes already drifting shut, completely content. “Good. Because I love you.”

It was so soft, so natural, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Just a simple truth, spoken between the two of you like it had always been there.

Your lips curled into a smile, your own heart melting at the boy beneath you, the one who had won races and championships but still looked at you like you were his greatest prize.

“I love you too, Max.”

And just like that, he was gone—completely asleep, holding you close, as if he’d finally found his peace.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

So this is my first ever Max fic and First ever fluff. Let me know what you think in the comments. Likes, Comments, and repost are much apperciated. If you want to Be added to My taglist for any futur Storys Let me know in the comments.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

Taglist: @stylesmoonlight12 @majapapaya4 @isagrace22 @charlesgirl16 @anamiad00msday @sarx164

-------------------------✩-------------------------

[estellesdoll]

31 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆��� | 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

⊹. 𝒅𝒂𝒚 25 : 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𖧧 . ָ࣪    ִֶָ

𓄹 ࣪.𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𓄹 ࣪.𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : The holidays bring warmth and love, but also unresolved family struggles, as Rafe defends your place in his life while embracing fatherhood.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : (soft) dad!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : fluff, angst, family tension, pregnancy themes

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 2k

The Cameron household was filled with the warmth of the season. The scent of roasted turkey mingled with the sweet aroma of cinnamon and pine.

The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, its lights twinkling as you sat nestled on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket.

Your hand rested on your growing belly, your thoughts drifting to the life you were about to bring into the world.

Rafe was nearby, making sure everything was perfect for you. His love and concern for you during your pregnancy were unwavering, though there was a nervous energy in the air.

It wasn’t from him; it was from the dynamic with his family, and today felt like it was all bubbling to the surface.

Sarah was nearby, teasing Rafe about becoming a dad, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I still can’t believe you’re going to be a father,” she teased, her voice light but affectionate.

Rafe rolled his eyes but smiled at his sister. “Why? You think I’m not capable?”

“Of course you are,” Sarah responded quickly. “I just think it’s weird, that’s all.”

You laughed softly, shifting your position to make yourself more comfortable. "It’s weird for me too," you admitted with a grin, earning a chuckle from both Rafe and Sarah.

Wheezie, who was sitting on the floor with her toys, looked up. "I think it’s cool," she chimed in. "I get to be an aunt."

"Yes, you do," Rafe agreed, his voice warm. "And you’re going to be the best one."

As the conversation continued, you noticed that Rose and Ward, who were quietly sitting at the table, hadn’t said much.

You could feel the tension simmering in the room. Rose caught your eye for a moment, offering you a soft, understanding smile. But Ward was different.

Ward’s eyes were cold, distant, even as he tried to hide it. He didn’t quite seem to approve of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t quite place it—maybe it was because Rafe had chosen to bring you, someone outside of their world, into their family or maybe it was because of your pregnancy.

Either way, it was clear Ward wasn’t fully onboard.

As the meal continued, the tension between Rafe and his father only seemed to grow. Ward’s forced smiles and clipped words were getting harder for Rafe to ignore. You saw the way his shoulders stiffened, his eyes darting nervously between his father and you.

"I think I’ll go get the dessert ready," you said, standing up, trying to break the tension.

Rafe grabbed your hand before you could walk away. His touch was gentle but firm. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled, nodding. "I’m fine. I just… need a minute."

He seemed to hesitate, then pulled you in for a soft kiss on the forehead. "Don’t let him get to you. I’m right here, okay?"

You nodded, but the tight knot in your chest didn’t loosen. You could feel Ward’s disapproval creeping into the air, and it hurt to think that this—this moment—was what Rafe was still trying to work through with his family.

Later, after dinner, the family dispersed. Sarah and Wheezie went to the living room to watch Christmas movies, and Rose started cleaning up the table. Ward stood by the window, staring outside as if trying to make sense of everything.

Rafe joined you on the couch, pulling you into his side. He held you close, his hands resting on your belly. “I wish he’d just… accept it, you know?” His voice was filled with frustration, the words he had been holding back all evening finally spilling out.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know it’s hard, but we have each other. You’re doing great, Rafe.”

He squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your head. "I’m trying. I really am. But I want him to see you the way I do. To know how much I care about you and our baby."

You kissed him softly on the cheek. "He will. It just might take some time."

Rafe’s voice wavered slightly. "I don’t want you to feel like you’re not welcome here. I never wanted you to feel that way."

“I don’t, Rafe. But I know it’s not easy for you. I can see how much it hurts.” You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "But I’m with you, okay? I’ve got you."

He swallowed hard, looking away for a moment, trying to fight back the vulnerability that crept into his expression. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things harder. I just wanted this Christmas to be perfect. I wanted you to feel like part of the family."

You cupped his face gently, making him meet your gaze again. "I do feel like part of the family. But don’t carry all the weight of this alone. We’re in this together."

Just then, Rose appeared in the doorway, her expression soft as she observed the two of you. She stepped closer, her voice quieter but warm. "I think Ward just needs some time, Rafe. He’s not always good at showing it, but he does care. I’ve seen it."

Rafe looked up at her, a mixture of frustration and hope in his eyes. "But he can’t just pretend everything’s fine, Rose. He can’t act like he’s okay with all of this."

Rose sat down beside you both, offering a reassuring smile. "No, but that doesn’t mean he won’t come around. Your dad’s a work in progress. It’ll take time, but he does love you, Rafe. And he’ll love your child. He just… doesn’t know how to show it yet."

Rafe nodded, but you could see the lingering doubt in his eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand.

"You’re doing everything right, Rafe. And we’re here with you. This is our family now, and we’re going to be just fine."

The fire crackled softly in the background as the three of you sat in quiet reflection. Rafe was still tense, but he seemed comforted by the support from Rose and you. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the house and the love you shared, the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy.

Rafe shifted slightly, his hand still resting on yours. The warmth of his touch was grounding, and the way he leaned into you, seeking comfort, spoke volumes about the weight he was carrying.

He had always been the one to shield others, to put up a tough front, but in moments like these, you could see the cracks. He was human, vulnerable, and trying to balance his love for you with the expectations of his family.

Rose smiled gently, understanding the quiet, unspoken bond between you two. “You know,” she began softly, breaking the silence, “Rafe’s always been the stubborn one, but underneath all of that, he’s got the biggest heart. He’ll figure this out. And so will Ward, in his own way.”

You nodded, grateful for Rose’s comforting words. She had always been the pillar of calm in the family, the one who could offer perspective when everything felt chaotic. You had no doubt that she was right. It would take time, but Rafe’s family would come to see the depth of his love for you and the baby.

Rafe sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I just want everyone to be happy. To feel like this is right. I don’t want you to feel out of place. And the last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re not welcome here, especially during Christmas.”

You reached over and cupped his face, lifting his chin so that his eyes met yours. “Rafe, I don’t feel out of place. You’ve made me feel more at home than anyone ever has. I’m just as nervous as you are about all of this, but I trust you, and I trust us. We’ve got this.”

He leaned into your touch, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, his voice low and raw.

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the quiet moment. Sarah entered the room, her eyes lighting up when she saw you and Rafe. “Hey, I think dessert’s almost ready, and Rose’s calling us to get the rest of the food on the table.”

Rafe gave her a small nod, his hand still resting protectively on your belly. “Thanks, Sarah. We’ll be there in a second.”

She looked between the two of you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Don’t stay in here all night, you two. I’m sure you have plenty of other family to see, too.”

Rafe laughed softly, standing up and offering his hand to you. “You heard her,” he said with a grin. “Let’s go have dessert with the family.”

As you got to your feet, you took a deep breath. Despite the underlying tension, there was a soft warmth settling in your chest. The holiday season had a way of making everything feel a little brighter, even in the midst of uncertainty.

You walked into the dining room, where everyone was gathered around the table, chatting and laughing.

You felt a shift in the air as you entered, a subtle change, but one that made you feel like you belonged. You could sense that Rafe’s family was trying, in their own way, to make you feel included. Ward still hadn’t spoken much, but you could see the faintest flicker of acceptance in his eyes as you sat down beside Rafe.

The night wore on, filled with light conversation and the warmth of shared moments. While the tension hadn’t fully dissolved, you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Rafe was right there with you, his hand gently resting on your knee beneath the table, offering quiet support whenever you needed it.

As dessert was served, Sarah leaned over to you with a mischievous grin. “So, any ideas for baby names yet?”

You laughed softly, turning to Rafe, who immediately raised an eyebrow. “We’ve talked about it,” you said, trying to hide your smile, “but nothing’s set in stone yet.”

Sarah smirked, teasing you both. “Well, you have to tell me when you’ve decided. I’m going to be the best aunt ever.”

Wheezie piped up from the other side of the table. “I want to help pick the name!”

You chuckled, your heart swelling with affection for the little girl. “We’ll definitely need your help, Wheezie. Don’t worry.”

The evening carried on with laughter and chatter, the tension gradually dissolving as the night wore on. Rafe’s hand remained in yours, and you knew that, despite the obstacles ahead, this—this love and connection—was something worth fighting for.

When the time came to leave, you stood up, feeling the weight of the evening settle on you. You looked over at Rafe, who had been quieter than usual but seemed at ease in your presence. “Ready to go?” you asked softly.

He smiled, his hand gently rubbing your lower back. “Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go home.”

As you left the warmth of his family’s house and stepped into the crisp night air, Rafe pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “No matter what happens, you and our baby will always be my priority. I’ll make sure we’re okay.”

You smiled, your heart full. “I know, Rafe. And I’ll always be by your side.”

Together, you walked through the snow, the quiet of the night surrounding you, and the promise of your future together ahead.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 : @gemzyy @e

𓄹 ࣪. like, reblog 𑁍 comment

﹒◟send me your requests and use an emoji if you want to stay anonymous. 𓂃

@estellesdoll

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Shanks peppering kisses and struggling to leave...

He was supposed to have left an hour ago. His crew made it clear that if their captain wasn't onboard by before dawn, they would set sail without him. An exaggeration on their part.

But here Shanks stood, in your home, only managing a few steps towards the door before he complained about it being so early and needing a 'wake up kiss'.

Your mistake was giving in to his charm because he spent the next hour in your embrace all over the small space. As the rest of the village slowly began to wake for their daily duties, the noise outside reminded you that your pirate had an adventure waiting for him.

“Shanks," you smiled when his mouth touched your neck. "I- I need you stop kissing me.”

Shanks chuckled at the sound of your breathlessness as he pressed his lips against yours once more. “I’m getting there. Just. One. More.” He said between each kiss.

One more kiss was exactly how this started!

You grabbed the front of his shirt, fingers grazing against his hot skin. The electricity almost made you pull him closer but you had to make the hard choice here. You willed yourself to giving him a gentle, playful push to get your point across.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He conceded, catching your drift and stepping back. He took in your now-messy hair and disheveled clothes and realised that he had you pinned against the wall for far too long.

Then he leaned forward quickly and pecked at your nose.

"But I'll be back. You owe me for all the ones I've missed."

~ More imagines here ~

[merbear25]

Hello! Glad to see requests are open! Seeing that may I get a small thing for Zoro, Law and Mihawk. I've been having the idea of a devil fruit user reader falling into the water and needing rescuing (I'm very aware Law is also a devil fruit user but that just gives extra angst does it not). Hurt/comfort of course

Hello! Thanks for sending this in. I decided to change it a little for Law's, but I hope you like it anyway 💜💜

Even with precautions set in place, the sea was where the unexpected could happen. Whether a storm, sea monster, or battle taking place, the threat of the water was something you could never escape. Luckily, those closest to you were always prepared to protect.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, headcanons/scenarios, reader is a devil fruit user

If you went overboard… (Zoro, Law, Mihawk)

Zoro: He’d always been protective over those closest to him, so you were no exception. Though never overbearing, he still kept an eye on you. During times of peril, he kept you in arm's length as often as he could. You were capable—strong in your own right. However, there were dangers that automatically made you far more vulnerable. 

That day’s waters were vicious. The waves cascading over the railings gave no sign of the storm letting up. One wrong step was all it took to send you hurtling overboard. A shriek that pierced even during the hurricane-like winds sent the other hearts onboard plummeting.

Their cries for you weren’t accompanied by Zoro’s, but his action traveled faster than their worried calls. Before your limp body had the chance to sink much lower than the surface, he was there, diving in after you.

He was never short of prepared. Even when taking one of many naps, being aware of his surroundings never faltered. 

A watchful eye on everything and everyone, his friends being the ones calling for actions guided by the heart.

He wasn’t one to hound others on things they were already aware of. The unexpected should be expected, and that meant there’d be times when you were made vulnerable and in need of help, just like all the others.

Law: The sea gave no pardons to anyone. Your devil fruit abilities came with a burden that at times felt more like a curse. The calm waters the Polar Tang was cutting through turned dark as the daytime sky transformed into night. With night came more blind spots because of the abyss inevitably closing in.

A sudden wack against the side sent some of the crew members to the floor. Books flew off the shelves and the alarm sounded through the metal rooms. Red lights that blinked in urgency left split seconds of total darkness in your room. Another slam caused you to trip and miss the door handle.

Water started spouting through the cracks, and with each attack against the submarine the cracks grew in size. Your cries for help were quickly silenced by the rising water. The cold ocean held you in a tight embrace against your bedroom floor, yet offering no comfort. An immediate drop outside your room jolted you awake.

It would come as second nature. No thought, just action. You were one of the few who he considered close to him.

Rescuing you, no matter how often, came with some lectures, though. Even if it wasn’t entirely your fault, he mostly did it as a way of expressing his fear of losing someone he cared about again.

Thorough check-ups after such shocks to the system were given, even if you protested saying you were just fine.

Mihawk: Holding the title of the greatest swordsman marked him and anyone close to him as a target. The bullseye seen by the world was drifting casually through the seas, catching the rays of that day’s sun. The rippling water from an approaching ship didn’t even cause him to open his eyes. He was still enjoying the warmth of the sun, but with the supposed enemy drawing nearer, he was left with no choice but to give them even a fraction of his attention.

The captain baited Mihawk, wanting to see the swordsman’s raw power for himself, even if that meant putting his crew’s lives in jeopardy. However, Mihawk wasn’t known for being temperamental, which many of these hecklers seemed to forget. A smooth swing of his sword and their ships sank to pits of the ocean floor.

When a shot was fired at you, the bullet was sliced in mid air. Though you hung around someone whose composure didn’t break, you flinched enough for the both of you. A motion back one step too far was all it took for you to lose your footing and slip into the shackles bound to you by the devil fruit. His challengers were swatted like the pests they were before he dove in after you.

Even his lectures were articulated like advice, which you accepted without protest.

He’d insist on giving you training to help you control these impulses, albeit natural, were life threatening in the wrong situations.

That being said, he obviously knew that once you were overboard, you required his full attention. He simply wanted to offer you assistance to prevent this from happening more frequently.

[generalsmemories]

Noodle

✧ Imbibitor Lunae! Dan Heng x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: an evening of you getting familiar with dan heng's true form leads to the birth of an unique nickname - he doesn't complain though.

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor

✧ a/n: shocked gasps fills the hall. naru writing about someone else other than jing yuan?? scandalous. jk, this is a celebration of his banner dropping actually !! may all il dan heng wanters become il dan heng havers! enjoy this short sweet piece whilst you shower the boy in love or get stuck farming his materials. not beta read once again fellas.

It's a quiet evening onboard the astral express, everyone had already clocked out for the day and retired to their room to rest. Dan Heng had planned to do the same, having wanted to update the data bank before heading to bed for an early night.

But instead of doing that, he finds himself currently seated on the floor with his back leaning against one of the wall of bookshelves beside his futon on the ground. His hands are around your waist while you've wormed yourself between his legs on your knees so that you can be slightly taller than him for easier access to his horns - which you've been playing with for the last 10 minutes.

His head is resting against your bent forearms whilst your fingers are caressing the horns on his head with a content hum. He blinks his eyes open, adjusting himself so that he's now staring up at you, but your attention is still on his translucent horns.

"You having fun over there?" he asks in a whisper, and you nod with a grin.

"Yeah, did I mention how beautiful they are?"

"A couple of times."

"Well, it's true," you remind him, briefly looking down to make eye contact so you can give him a grin, "Can you actually feel them getting touched?" you ask, and the Vidyadhara male nods slightly.

"The closer you get to the base, the more I can feel it." he explains, which makes you tilt your head curiously to the side, "Sensitive then?" you inquire.

"No, not really. I think it has more with your grip," he clarifies, to which you raise your eyebrows, halting slightly to settle down on his lap, Dan Heng using the opportunity to lean his face into your neck. You chuckle, a hand naturally making their way up to graze a finger down the back of his horns - the action making the Vidyadhara male before you tremble slightly.

"It's ticklish when you touch me that gently, you know."

"Sorry, it's hard to adjust the strength, what if I accidentally hurt you?"

"You won't. But for reference the same strength you use to hold my hand is enough," he mutters into your skin, the way your fingers graze his horns somehow makes him sleepy, but he can't fully drift off to sleep because he feels that you have something more to ask him.

"... What is it?" he asks after a moment of silence, pulling away from the comforts of your neck to stare at you.

"Nothing, I just..." you mutter, "... Can I touch your tail too?" you finally ask in a whisper. Dan Heng blinks up at you in surprise before he let's out a sigh, "You're really liking this form of mine, aren't you?"

"Well, it's still you. More you than ever, no? Are you uncomfortable with me asking so much, though?" you ask, leaning slightly away so that you can give him space, but you find yourself unable when his arms wrap around your waist.

He shakes his head, "You can ask whenever you want. Nothing is too much with you."

He said it so casually that it surprises you. Your eyes softening at the amount of trust he has in you, "... Dan Heng?" you inquire, the Vidyadhara male tilting his head to the side with a hum, "Can I kiss you?"

He chuckles lowly, "What's with you and wanting to ask my permission so much today?" he mutters, fingers grazing your cheek before settling at the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer so he can peck your lips.

"Even I don't know what's gotten into me today," you tell him, "But can I still touch your tail?"

"Said tail has been out for the past few minutes you know. You've just been too absorbed in your own thoughts to realize," he points out, and when you direct your gaze down towards the floor, you notice that the translucent tail is indeed resting on your right side.

"It's as dark as your horns, but even more transluscent," you remark out loud, grazing the scales with a fingers, before picking the pliant tail up with your hands, "Ohh, it's even cool to the touch! Like the perfect temperature to hug," you say, wrapping your arms around the tail before letting you fall down to land on his futon, resting your cheek against the tail, the tuft of hair at the end tickling your skin slightly.

And you seem content for a while, rubbing your face against his tail, so Dan Heng goes back to his initial plan for the evening on updating a few sections of the data bank.

But it only goes a few minutes of him tapping away on the keyboard in the silent room before you quip back up again from your spot, "You know, with all these draconic features you have now, you're like a noodle." you say, Dan Heng raising his eyebrows in confusion, "Noodle?" he asks, just once more to confirm it.

"Yeah, you can summon a dragon that's like a long noodle, your tail is long too like a noodle, and if you think about it, dragons are able to just worm around like a noodle. So you're a noodle," you explain, "But you're my noodle, so it's cute," you say in the end, laughing at the new nickname you've come up for him.

Dan Heng rolls his eyes with a defeated smile. The tail in your arms suddenly disappear from your grasp, but before you can react at its sudden disappearance you find Dan Heng already leaning closer to you to slot his lips over your own once again, "I really don't understand you sometimes," he whispers when you part, "But I guess that's fine too."

You called him yours, and as long as he remains yours, Dan Heng can handle any weird nickname you conjure up for him in the middle of the night.

[bullet-prooflove]

Rigs: Tyler Owens x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hunterthecharmer @heylookwhoitis

Companion piece to:

The Mechanic

Tyler lies on his back in a field in the middle of nowhere, there’s a picnic blanket spread out underneath him as he stares up at the sky watching the clouds drift overhead. He comes out here when he wants to take a breather, when he wants to get away from the cameras, the attention, his crew. He’s mad at every single one of them right now because they all knew that Boone was going to call you, in fact they encouraged it.

“We needed a mechanic.” Dani had told him after he’d sent you away. “You know she’s the best around, the work she did back then, we ain’t never had anything like it since.”

Yea, he knows that all too well. He’s been paying out the nose for his repairs ever since you left, jerry rigging shit together because none of them know how to weld the way you do.

He remembers the first day the two of you met inside that pokey little garage Lawton, he’d come to you with a sketch for his truck because every other mechanic this side of Oklahoma had told him he was absolutely crazy.

“It’s doable.” You’d told him as you reviewed the drawing he’d made. “But it’s going to cost.”

He’d used the last of his savings from his work at the rodeo to pay you to outfit his rig and when it was done, it was far better than he ever could have imagined.

“All that’s left is to test it out.” You’d said as your hand smoothed over the glossy paintwork.

“You actually wanna come along for that ride?” He’d asked you half serious.

Imagine his surprise when you had said yes.

“Looks like you’ve got a bit of wrangler in you after all.” He’d remarked as you’d climbed into the passenger seat beside him.

You’d become the go to girl for rigs like his after that. Any storm chasers that needed something special or a fix up, you were the one to go to. You still are even after the injury, you may have given up the chasing but making sure that the people that were still doing it stay safe is your top priority.

That’s the worst part he thinks is that you still have love for the community, hell you still probably have love for him but it can’t work between the two of you because you broke the cardinal rule, you did the one thing you promised you wouldn’t.

You asked him to stop.

“You know I can’t.” He’d told you, his thumb running along the line of your jaw, over the stitches that held your skin together.

“And you know I can’t keep doing this.” You’d responded before you’d packed your things and returned to that garage in Lawton.

He stays away after that, gets his repairs elsewhere. He’d hoped that you’d become a distant memory but the truth is you’re never far from his thoughts, it’s why he hasn’t looked at another woman in years.

The problem is Boone and the others are right, they do need you. If they want Kate’s project to be successful, to prove to the government that this is something they should be rolling out across the country then they need it to be foolproof and that means getting a professional mechanic onboard to make sure the rigs are up to standard to take on what’s to come. It’s the only way to make sure his crew stays safe and you’re the only one that can do that.

“Fuck.” He says as he stares up at the sky because despite what he said a few hours ago he does need you.

Truthfully he always has.

Love Tyler? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cyberrose2001]

Illogical This, Illogical That

TFP Shockwave x Reader

whoa, i'm on fire. i swear everytime im sick i become a powerhouse with a keyboard. anyhow, this is for my dear friend @goreismyforte, hope this cheers you up my love mwah mwah

Warnings: Implied Sexual Relationship (nothing explicit at all /gen), Fluff

Word Count: 642

It was getting late, but you had slumped into bed hours ago, doomscrolling. Since you're the only human onboard the Nemesis, you were the only one to constantly point out how frigidly cold it gets when the ship rises to higher altitudes. Of course, Steve just laughs and waves you off every time. Bastards, the lot of them.

It's not that you disliked the cold; you love it. Better up here than down on Earth, where your hometown is currently sweltering in the summer heat, you think. No, it's that fact that you'd much rather shiver under these blankets with Shockwave.

Your Cybertronian lover is strict with his work, and you respect him with the whole of your body, so you dare not distract him until he's finished for the day. So, like a poor, lonely wife whose husband has been dispatched for war, you lay there lonely in your darkened, shared berthroom with only the light from your phone bathing your face.

You curl the blanket around yourself more, your thumb flicking aimlessly as you wait patiently as ever.

The next thing you remember is the vague feeling of the berth below you shifting and a cold draft of the blanket being lifted. You don't remember it happening, and you never do, but you must have dozed off. Your phone, long since slipped from your fingers, lies face up on the berth as evidence. You feel Shockwave slotting himself behind you, not taking him long to snake a thick arm around your waist.

"I apologise for my prolonged absence, love."

"Mhmm, it's okay," you mumble sleepily, your hand finding his, "Just glad you're here now. I was getting cold without you."

"Core temperature is reading normal, and your organic body is quite capable of sustaining itself without me; that is rather illogical of you."

With an ex-vent against your neck, you feel him press his large frame against your back as he settles into the berth. Most people would believe most bots to be cold, which is true for the most part, but Shockwave tends to run hotter. It probably has something to do with the amount of computing that occurs within that frame of his. Once again, you're not complaining at all.

"Blah blah blah, illogical this, illogical that," You roll over to face him, eyes closed with a mischievous sleepy grin on your lips, "Your logic still doesn't stop you from cuddling with me every night."

Shockwave's audial fins twitch as his gaze wanders down to look at you; the only way you can tell is by the red glow of his optic through your eyelids. He's in deep thought, and it seems you have won the playful argument. You feel him wrap his arm around you tighter, the other finally curling underneath you to wrap you in his full embrace, pressing you against his chassis.

"Indeed, you are... correct," He cups the back of your head to run his digits through your hair, "I have come to enjoy our usual coupling."

"I'm not sure if you know what that means in our slang."

"Oh, I am quite aware."

A small blush blooms on your face, and you bury your face in his chassis. You feel the vibrations of his chuckle, a rare treat only you often get to hear, "You're so annoying."

"Hush now," Shockwave rests his helm above your head, now completely cocooning you, "You're well overdue for your rest cycle."

It doesn't take you long to fall victim to your drowsiness. With a familiar warmth finally accompanying you and with his digits gently combing through your hair, you soon drift off to sleep. Shockwave observes silently before finally deciding to join you. Your forgotten phone goes dark as it times out, and the red glow of his optic powering down plunges the room back into darkness.

[roxygen22]

can i request any beautiful boy writing and thank you love your writing

Aww - thanks, anon! I can't believe I haven't written for Nic yet, so thanks for the nudge!

Context: Nic has been sober for a while and is holding down a steady job in the city, where he meets the reader.

<><><><><>

Bus Stop

"I have a crush on a stranger," you blurted out at dinner with your BFF. She stared at you like you had lost your mind. Maybe you had.

"Okaaaaay. Tell me about said...stranger," she replied slowly, skeptically.

"I take the same bus every day heading home from the office. Same bus. Same route. Same time. Every weekday. This cute guy - dark brown curls and cheekbones that could cut glass - always gets on two stops later and sits across from me. Every day except Wednesdays. Sometimes, if we happen to lock eyes when I look up, he'll nod and offer a closed-lipped smile. The looks have started to...linger. I've noticed that I have started to look forward to it."

At some point while narrating your story, your focus drifted off into the distance. When your eyes returned to your friend, she was grinning at you like a cheshire cat.

"Oof, you've got it bad."

"I know....," you groaned and dramatically dropped your forehead to your hands.

"What's the big deal? Ask him out." She shrugged nonchalantly.

You stared at her wide-eyed, jaw slack. "How?" You asked incredulously.

She laughed. "Start by asking his name. The rest should take care of itself."

<><><><><>

The following Monday was a federal holiday, so you wouldn't see the beautiful mystery boy again until Tuesday. The last hour of work crawled by at a torturous pace. At closing, you grabbed your coat and bolted out the door, determined to catch the bus on time. It dependably arrived at your stop like clockwork.

You sat in your usual spot, knee bouncing from nerves and excitement. Two stops later, a slew of people stepped onboard. With each unfamiliar face, you grew more and more disappointed until finally, the object of your affection appeared. He took his normal position across the way and down a few seats. He always looked so nice and put together in his button-down shirt and slacks.

You were eager to talk to him but didn't want to come off as a stalker, so you waited a couple of stops before scooting over to sit directly in front of him. Your movement caught his attention, prompting him to look up at you.

"Hi," you squeaked and froze as you locked eyes.

"Hi," he replied slowly, both confused and amused. He flashed a smile that frazzled you further.

"I- uh, I've seen you here almost every day for months. So this isn't like talking to a stranger. I, uh, don't usually make it a habit of talking to strangers. I've been wanting to meet you." You paused and caught your breath. "I'm [Y/N]." You stuck out your right hand to shake. Smooth, real smooth.

"Hi, [Y/N]." You felt electricity run through your fingertips as he took your hand in his. "I'm Nic."

"Nic," you breathed, holding his hand probably a little longer than a customary handshake. You weren't sure what to do next, except make a note that your BFF gives terrible advice.

He cleared his throat. "I- I've uh, noticed you, too. On the bus every day, I mean."

All you could do was blush.

"Getting off work for the day?" Nic asked as you settled back into your seat, nodding toward the laptop bag at your side.

"Yep, the daily grind. The best part is the bus ride home."

It was his turn to blush. He ducked his head down sheepishly. You were dismayed to look up and see your stop was next.

"This is my stop coming up. The day crept by while I waited to finally talk to you, but the ride blazed by once I did." You sadly half-smiled as you looked into his jade-hued eyes, while also admiring your own newly found confidence.

"Oh." You detected a hint of disappointment in Nic's voice. "If...hopefully this doesn't sound creepy...if you'd like, I can get off here, too, and walk with you. My stop is just the next one down," he offered.

Your heart beat rapidly - slightly wary since he was still effectively a stranger, but mostly exhilarated by the prospect of having more time with him. Your words failed, so you just nodded.

When the bus stopped, you both stood and walked toward the front. Nic stepped off first, then turned and offered his hand to help you down.

"Thanks," you responded, blushing at the gentlemanly gesture.

"Where to?" he asked as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

You froze as rationality hit you like a ton of bricks, finally realizing that you would be leading this guy, still essentially a stranger, to your apartment. No matter how much you liked him, that wasn't a smart move.

"Well, I...I," you stammered nervously. "I barely know you, so I'm not going to show you where I live. Not yet, no offense."

"None taken," Nic replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

"But I want to get to know you, and I don't want that to stop here. Want to duck in somewhere and grab a drink?"

"I- I don't drink." His brow furrowed, and his eyes cast downward slightly. "B-but I do eat!" he added. "Hungry? My treat."

You smiled and nodded, pointing at the diner across the street. "How about there? They make a mean cheeseburger and milkshake."

Nic grinned. "Works for me."

<><><><><>

Part 2

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002