#First dates

[creativepromptsforwriting]

First Date Prompts

It was their first official date and despite both of them already knowing each other, they were both incredibly nervous.

He was not one to kiss on the first date. But he had done a lot on this date that he normally didn't imagine himself to do.

Their first date was an absolute disaster. And everyone was shocked to find out that they were already planning the second one.

As far as first dates go, this one was special.

Having their first date in front of cameras was less than ideal.

They couldn't remember what their first date was, so they plan the perfect first date, even though they've been together for some time now.

A date is not supposed to last more than a few hours, much less more than a day. Especially not a first date.

This first date was a perfect example of Murphy's law. Nothing worked out how they had expected it to, and every time they thought it couldn't get worse, it did.

Having been in an online relationship for a while, it was weird and exciting to have their first date in person months after saying I love you the first time.

Their friends had arranged a blind date for them, and because their friends know them best, they were already planning a second date after this.

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

[thebunnednun]

My Medic! Smoker x Nurse! Reader

Request:

THIS BIG MAN NEEDS SOME LOVE!!! Smoker x Nurse!reader. After a battle, Smoker gets injured and goes to the Marine infirmary and the reader [his crush] takes care of him HJSHSHSH I LOVE HIM!!!!

@sosongstrawberry You ask and you shall receive!

I swear this man smokes at least 15 packs a day.

On with the show!!~

______________________________________________________________

Smoker trudged into the Marine infirmary, his usual confidence tempered by the pain radiating from a deep gash on his side. The battle had been fierce, but the Marines had emerged victorious. However, victory came with its own set of costs. Smoker, ever the stoic, had refused immediate attention until he was sure his men were safe and accounted for.

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his senses as he entered, the bright lights causing him to squint slightly. He growled in discomfort, muttering to himself about how much he hated hospitals. But when he saw you, the nurse he had a secret admiration for, his annoyance turned into a mix of awkwardness and hidden delight.

You were busy tending to another patient when you noticed him. Dressed in a crisp, white uniform with a light blue apron and matching cap, you looked both professional and adorably cute. Your eyes widened in concern when you saw the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his torso.

"Commander Smoker! Why didn’t you come sooner? You should have been treated immediately!" you scolded gently, guiding him to an empty bed.

"I’m fine," he grumbled, though he didn't resist your touch. "Just take care of the others first."

You shook your head, your hands already moving to unwrap the makeshift bandage. "Everyone else is stable. Now, hold still."

Smoker winced as you carefully peeled away the blood-soaked cloth, revealing the deep cut. You could feel his eyes on you as you worked, and it made your heart race a little faster. Despite his gruff exterior, you knew he had a kind heart, and the idea of him being in pain bothered you more than you wanted to admit.

"This is pretty deep," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "You’re lucky it didn’t hit anything vital."

He grunted in response, his eyes fixed on your concentrated expression. "I've been through worse."

You glanced up, catching his gaze for a moment. "Doesn’t mean you should neglect yourself."

There was a brief, almost awkward silence as you cleaned the wound. The tension between you two was palpable, though neither of you dared to address it directly. As you worked, Smoker found himself relaxing under your care, the pain becoming more bearable.

"How do you do it?" he asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

"Do what?" you replied, not looking up from your work.

"Stay so calm and composed, even with all this chaos around."

You paused for a moment, considering your answer. "I guess... it’s because I care. I want to help people, make sure they’re okay. It’s why I became a nurse."

Smoker nodded slowly, a small, rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’re good at it. Really good."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thank you, Smoker. That means a lot coming from you."

The rest of the procedure went smoothly, the two of you sharing occasional glances and small smiles. Once the wound was stitched and bandaged, you stepped back to admire your handiwork.

"All done," you said, your voice tinged with relief. "Try to take it easy for a while, okay?"

He nodded, but as he stood to leave, he hesitated. You noticed his ever-present cigars and frowned slightly.

"Smoker, you need to stop smoking, especially while you’re healing. It’s not good for you," you said firmly, yet sweetly.

He looked taken aback for a moment, then chuckled. "I’ll... try."

You smiled warmly, your heart fluttering. "Good. And if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I’m here to help."

Smoker nodded again, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. "Thank you. Really."

As the days passed, Smoker found himself looking forward to his check-ups, not just for the medical attention but for the chance to see you. Your tough yet sweet demeanor was a refreshing change, and he found himself falling for you more with each interaction.

By the end of his stay, Smoker was fully healed, and though he was eager to get back to his duties, he felt a pang of reluctance at leaving you. On the day of his discharge, he walked into the infirmary with a small bouquet of flowers in hand, a rare, almost shy smile on his face.

"These are for you," he said, holding out the flowers. "To thank you for everything."

You took the flowers, blushing slightly. "Thank you, Smoker. They’re beautiful."

He cleared his throat, his usual gruffness returning for a moment. "And, um, I was wondering... would you like to go out sometime? Maybe dinner?"

Your eyes widened in surprise, then softened with affection. "I’d love to."

Smoker’s smile widened, a genuine, heartfelt expression. "Great. I’ll see you tonight, then."

As he walked out of the infirmary, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and hope. Maybe, just maybe, this big, strong man needed more than just medical attention. Maybe he needed someone to care for him, someone like you.

And as for Smoker, he realized that perhaps letting someone in wasn’t as terrifying as he thought, especially if that someone was you.

Bonus!-------------

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden hue over the bustling streets of the town. Smoker adjusted his coat nervously as he approached the quaint café where he was meeting you. The place was known for its cozy atmosphere and delicious pastries, making it the perfect spot for a first date.

As he stepped inside, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods greeted him, along with the soft hum of conversation. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, sitting by the window.

You looked adorable in a light pink dress with delicate lace trim, a small white cardigan draped over your shoulders. Your hair was styled simply but elegantly, and you wore a sweet, nervous smile as you spotted him.

"Hi, Smoker," you greeted, standing up to hug him lightly.

"Hey," he replied, a bit gruffly, though his expression softened as he handed you another bouquet of flowers. "These are for you."

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you took the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent. "Thank you, they're beautiful."

He pulled out a chair for you before sitting down himself. The two of you ordered your drinks, and as you waited, the conversation flowed naturally. Smoker found himself relaxing more with each passing minute, your presence soothing his usual tension.

"So," he began, taking a sip of his coffee. "How’s your day been?"

"Busy, but good," you replied, smiling. "Seeing you has definitely been the highlight, though."

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter. "I’m glad to hear that. I was a bit worried you might get tired of seeing me so often."

"Never," you said firmly, your eyes locking with his. "I enjoy our time together."

There was a brief, comfortable silence as you both savored your drinks and the peaceful ambiance of the café. Smoker took a deep breath, feeling a rare sense of calm and happiness. He knew he wanted to make this moment special, to solidify the bond you were forming.

He reached across the table, gently taking your hand in his. "I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about you," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "And I wanted to ask you something."

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity and anticipation dancing in your eyes. "What is it?"

Smoker’s grip on your hand tightened just a fraction as he mustered his courage. "Would you consider being my personal nurse? If I promise to be your personal soldier, always there to protect you?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of surprise and joy. "You mean… like us being together?"

He nodded, his gaze intense yet tender. "Yeah. I want you by my side, both on and off duty. I want to take care of you just like you’ve taken care of me."

Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand. "Yes, Smoker. I’d love that."

A rare, genuine smile spread across his face as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "You’ve made me the happiest man alive," he murmured.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and sharing sweet moments, the world outside fading into the background. It was just you and Smoker, wrapped in a bubble of warmth and affection.

As the night came to a close and Smoker walked you back to your quarters, he felt a newfound sense of purpose and contentment. He had found someone who cared for him deeply, someone he wanted to cherish and protect with all his might.

And as for you, you knew you had found a partner who, despite his tough exterior, had a heart of gold. Someone who made you feel safe and loved. Together, you knew you could face anything the world threw at you.

As you stood at your door, Smoker leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, lingering kiss. "Goodnight, my personal nurse," he whispered.

"Goodnight, my personal soldier," you replied, your voice filled with happiness.

With one last smile, Smoker turned and walked away, already looking forward to the many more moments and memories you would share together.

As Smoker was about to turn the corner, he heard your voice calling out to him from behind.

"Smoker, wait!" you called, your voice tinged with excitement.

He paused, turning back to see you standing at the doorway of your quarters, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Would you like a nightcap? Or... better yet, a check-up?~"

He couldn't help but grin at your suggestion, a surge of warmth flooding through him.

"Why not both?~"

With a shared laugh and a knowing glance, you both ran inside together, the promise of a night filled with laughter, love, and a little healing, waiting just beyond the threshold.

The next morning his cadets couldn't help but notice the ease in their captain's attitude.~

___________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed your request my dear! I took a softer approach to his personality.

To be posted on the ao3 account soon.

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[penvisions]

coffee and candor {one shot}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: Frankie picks you up for date number three and he's got it all planned out. Unfortunately, you're a little out of your depth with what he has in mind...

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: insecurities, frankie being excited and adorable gets it's own warning, competence kink, kissing, matching clothing, this is so fluffy and soft, um i think that's it tbh

A/N: while i'm still taking a short break from regular fic updates, this was a commission by the lovely @whocaresstillthelouvre. the prompt was 'nervous frankie x not outdoorsy! reader go on a hike early in their relationship'. i rather like how this turned out! i am still taking commissions even if i'm not working on wips at the moment. anything helps, please check out this post and this post to know more about what's goin' on in my lil corner. no pressure all all lovelies, i know things are tough for everyone! love y'll and hope the day is good to you ♡♡

ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi

Body tingling with anticipation, you wait on for the rumble of a truck engine to round the corner. You were nervous, this is only your third date with the man you had met by chance at a coffee shop. A mix up of to go cups and you found yourself placating a very tired and embarrassed Frankie Morales.

He had picked up your drink by mistake. But if you were honest, it was totally okay that you had to wait an extra few moments to get it remade before you blipped off to work, because it gave you the chance to chat with him and scrawl your phone number onto the cup that was supposed to be yours. His kind smile motivating you to be a little bolder than you normally would.

The truck does indeed rumble around the corner and within minutes you’re sat in the passenger seat with the radio playing low and cruising down the highway.

“So what did you plan for us today? The truck looks suspiciously empty.” You eyed the cooler sitting in the extended cab, lid propped open and empty. Then the simplistic backpack beside it, it was always in the foot space between the two front seats. Frankie had admitted to you that it helped to ground him to know he had essentials within reach at all times, just in case. You hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation, knowing he had faced more than a few situations he felt less than prepared for.

But the rite in the rain notebook with the matching pen he had in his pocket along with his wallet at all times told you he was good at preparing for anything within reason. The situations he faced out of his control had not been shared with you quite yet but you would be content if they weren’t, only wanting for him to tell you if he was comfortable enough to do so.

With pink tinged ears he turns to you with a lopsided smile.

“The pack has everything we need, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“Not worried, just curious.” Your tongue peeks out from between your teeth and you see the way his adam’s apple bobs in response. His eyes snap back to the road and you feel a giddy sense of satisfaction at having flustered him a bit. He’d been the perfect gentlemen, his large hands only skimming around your body to lead you through doors, a tentative palm on your thigh as you sit beside him. No kissing, at least not yet. You were hoping today would be the day.

“I figured we would get out of the city a bit, go on a hike. It’s a really short one, only a few miles. Not too bad of an elevation gain, cleared out of poison oak, leads to a view I really think you’ll like. It’s an easy looped hike, so I figured we’d have a bite to eat at the midpoint. I packed up some snacks too, plenty of water. Even got some bugs spray and sunscreen.”

He rambled on, excitement obvious as he detailed the plan for the day, his face lighting up in the most endearing way. He was totally in his element and you….you were not. When you didn’t quip back immediately, he loosened a curled fist from around the steering wheel and reached for your thigh.

“That okay?” He jostled you slightly, worry seeping into his voice.

“Oh, um, y-yes.” You tried to muster up a smile, but it paled in comparison to the one he had only moments ago.

“I knew I should’ve run the idea by you. You don’t seem as excited now,” His bottom lip was taken between his teeth, worrying the skin of it as he regarded your profile. The slight furrow to your brow, the way your hands were wound around the flaps of your open overshirt. You had picked out a tank top and shorts outfit, tossing on casual button up over it, not sure what he had planned initially.

The first date had been coffee: to make up for him stealing yours. He had been nervous, his energy spiking and waning as he admitted he didn’t do this often. Date. Get random phone numbers. Have a lot of free time. He was a dad, to a bouncy and energetic seven-year-old. Nothing to worry about on the baby momma front, she wasn’t a part of the picture. A story you didn’t push on either, just making it as comfortable as possible between you two for him to want to tell you.

The second date had been dinner, with him in an ironed outfit and you in a slinky dress. It had been so much fun, the excitement obvious as you both hoped for another chance to see each other.

And now, the third: a hike.

You did not hike. You didn’t do anything considered outdoorsy if you were being completely honest. You were a lazy, take the day off to look through thrift shops kind of person. A curl up on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee or a cocktail and a book kind of person.

“Hey,” He breathed, soft brown eyes watching the way you had closed up. “It’s okay. We don’t have to, I promise I won’t be mad.”

“You’re so excited, though.” You move a hand to tangle your fingers with is, hand still on your thigh. Your stomach flutters, his skin is calloused and warm.

“I get excited about spending time with you, hermosa. It doesn’t matter what we do.”

“I want to do the hike.” You insist, wanting him to go back to the enthusiastic way he had talked about his plans.

“Please don’t feel like you have-“

“I don’t feel like I have to, Frankie, I want to. Because you want to. Simple.” You squeeze his hand in yours, placating him along with a soft smile.

“Simple.” With a lopsided grin and a press of his lips to your knuckles, the tension eases.

Gravel crunched underneath the tired of the truck as Frankie maneuvers off the secluded highway. Tall trees and various shades of green surround you. You both sat and listened to the clinking of the engine cooling down, taking a moment to breathe in the pine and cedar.

“I, uh, got you something.” He huffed a little as he reached for the back and hauled it into his lap.

“You didn’t have to- oh my gosh!” It was a hat, a baseball cap just like the one atop his head. Dark navy blue, emblazoned with a ‘standard heating oil’ patch. Your stomach fluttered at the implication.

“To help keep the sun off your head and outta your eyes.” He plopped it atop your head, the stiff thing just barely resting over your hair. “We’ll have a lot of tree coverage, but better safe than sorry.”

“We’re matching.” You can’t help the teasing smile that took over your lips, heat blooming in your cheeks as you realized you would look like an official couple to any onlookers. Something you had thought about more and more as Frankie filled your thoughts and messages.

“Yeah, would you look at that.” A dimple in his right cheek had you reaching out to caress it, silently thanking him for his thoughtfulness. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted one like mine, but I’m really glad you like it.”

“I do like it! I like matching with you, Frankie.”

His smile was dazzling as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You perked up a little, not wanting him to see the way it was hard to catch your breath or the falter to your steps as your legs began to ache from the incline. The slight brush of the long grass and reaching limbs full of leaves tickled but you tried your best to ignore it, opting to focus on the broad set of shoulders carrying a backpack.

Another bout of time passed, allowing for sweat to dampen your brow and the small of your back. You had removed your overshirt, tying the long sleeves around your waist. The stray pieces of your hair that had escaped from your hat floated around your face as you puffed out a deep breath.

Frankie seemed to pick up the moderate pace he had been keeping, his boots thudding the ground as he turned to pivot from the path as it began to curve.

“Uh, the trail goes that way.” You pointed over your shoulder, having followed the man’s lead regardless.

“I know, got a map in the pack if it makes you feel better.” He tossed you a reassuring smile, over his own shoulder. His eyes alight underneath his cap.

You were about to respond when he took another step and suddenly the trees fell away from around you, leaving you stood on an overlook. Valley open and wide in front of you, the view took your already short breath away. Frankie looked from the view to gauge your reaction. And he broke out into a wide smile as he saw how much you were taken off guard by the beautiful view.

Removing is pack, he set it down and reached to turn you toward him.

“This last month or so has been so amazing. Getting to know you has been some of the best parts of my life, hermosa. I was worried dating again after so long and not even looking for it would’ve been another lesson learned but everything with you is just so….”

“Simple.” You allowed him to caress his hands over the small of your back, your own reaching for his shoulders. The bills of your matching hats bumped, easy laughter bubbling up from you both.

“Simple.” He agreed, tongue swiping out to wet his plush lips. His eyes flicked down to yours briefly and your heart fluttered as warmth blossomed in your chest. Pressing more into his space, your chest bumped his, giving him the nudge he needed to close the gap even more.

Out on that ridge where you never would’ve trekked to on your own, you shared your first of many kisses with the man who had taken you completely by surprise. His lips soft and pliant against yours, his warmth seeping into you much like the sun on your skin underneath the open sky. You were the one to lick into the seam of his mouth, something he readily allowed you to do. The slid of his tongue on yours like heaven.

Breaking away, Frankie peppered kisses over your face. Lips tasting the salt from your sweat but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Turning side by side, he kept his hand around your waist and you mimicked him.

Maybe hiking wasn’t so bad.

dividers by the lovely @/cafekitsune

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal

[welele]

Que no es no, señora.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Ready Or Not

Howzer x fem!S/O | 1.9k words

Content: blind dates, bad first impressions, Howzer has some thoughts and feels to work through, maybe some demi vibes?, no real fluff but I think it's sweet in its own way

Prompt: I came across this concept of a "Meet Ugly" and thought it'd be interesting to explore. Used this scenario: Getting set up on a blind date and not having the best reaction when they first see each other.

Part of Operation #MoreHowzerFics

He did not have time for this.

Maybe the rest of the galaxy had been duped into thinking the war was over, but Howzer knew better. There was still a fight to be had, and a more dire one at that. A fight for his brothers. Their fates were hanging in the balance... and here he was, sitting at some cafe on Pabu waiting for a date.

He wasn't even sure how it had happened. Rex had insisted there was a reason soldiers took R&R, and even though they technically weren't soldiers anymore they should still try to relax every once in a while. Fireball had taken to saying "you need to get laid" every time Howzer was in an even slightly bad mood. Greer was always going on about how they needed to think of the future, find a dream worth fighting for, like a home or a family. And Gregor was weirdly interested in figuring out what everyone's "type" was; everywhere they went he'd point someone out and gauge their reactions.

All of that somehow had culminated in setting Howzer up on a blind date the second they touched down on Pabu. As if he had time for such things. As if he cared about such things.

And yet... here he was. Wearing his armor and a frown, but he'd still shown up. If he wasn't so busy cursing his brothers in his mind, he could have analyzed why he was here. Or whether he maybe secretly did care about such things.

His leg bounced and his narrowed eyes stared unfeeling out at the planet's glistening waters. He glanced down at his watch every few minutes, growing more upset at how the time passed without this supposedly "cute" date of his showing up. A memory of Echo whispered in the back of his mind, saying something about "Pabu time", how people here didn't need to move with the same urgency he was used to, but he didn't listen to it.

A few people passed by and gave him pleasant smiles. Some entered the patio and gave warm hugs to neighbors they recognized. An elderly couple went up to the counter, leisurely reading the menu as if they had never dined here before. One girl confidently strolled in, at first acting like she knew where she was going, and then halting in the middle of the tables and looking about in confusion. She then tried to cover and got in line to order, as if that had been her plan, even though Howzer had seen the whole thing and knew she had probably absentmindedly gone to the wrong place.

He fought back the urge to roll his eyes at these people. He wasn't really annoyed at them. If anything, he envied their peace. They didn't have family enslaved by the Empire. They didn't have uncertain futures. They were allowed to wander and smile and act a little silly. It's what he would want for his brothers once they were freed. No, he was annoyed because they weren't free. This peace was not theirs. But here he was, sitting in a cafe overlooking a beautiful view and waiting for a date as if he had earned it. How in the galaxy had he let Rex and the others convince him to do this?

Just when he started to entertain the idea of bailing, the girl from earlier caught his eye. She had made it up to the counter now and the worker was pointing over in his direction. Howzer subconsciously shifted, his back straightening and his hand settling on his thigh next to his blaster holster. Usually he'd pretend not to have noticed, let any potential threats think they were catching him unawares while all along he had the upper hand. But here, he decided to send a different message. I am aware, I see you staring, try to mess with me.

The girl followed the path that the worker had pointed her in, right to Howzer. She didn't look like a spy or some other kind of threat, but these days, who really knew. Especially when she seemed determined to appear pleasant and confident, despite the nervous gulp Howzer clocked from across the patio, not to mention the little display of carelessness he had seen from her earlier.

"Hi there," she said when she came within a few feet of his table.

She gave out a breathy laugh and Howzer frowned, waiting to see what she wanted from him.

"Um," she gulped again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Another nervous tell. What was she hiding? "I uh... Phee told me to meet someone here. For a... a date?"

Howzer's eyes widened in realization. Kriff.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk right past you," the girl continued to fill in the silence. "I guess I wasn't expecting, um..."

She trialed off as she realized how the thought was sounding out loud, and then quickly tried to save face by hurrying over to the seat opposite him and pulling it out. But Howzer wasn't going to let her off the hook that easy.

"Weren't expecting... what?" he asked once she sat down. He eased his hand away from his blaster but kept his posture upright. She may not be a threat but he wasn't exactly comfortable.

She exhaled quickly with a sheepish smile. "Well, a clone."

Howzer's eyes returned to their narrowed state, sizing up this girl he found himself sitting across from. She interpreted the silence as offense and immediately started babbling.

"I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. It's... it's just... You know, you've all just recently started coming here... I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised... Of course Phee would set me up with someone I don't know, I know practically every other guy here, and there's a reason I'm not with any of them... And she's been working with clones more recently... But like, I know only a few of you are sticking around for good, so I guess that's why it didn't occur to me that..."

Howzer wasn't sure when he had started zoning out. He felt bad, but also couldn't help it. He didn't have much time for this date to begin with, and certainly no time to listen to a stranger ramble without getting to any sort of point. He was a soldier; he valued conciseness. Whatever suppressed little hope he had that maybe this date wouldn't be so bad after all, maybe he finally would find a romantic connection with someone, dissipated into the saltwater breeze. 

He sat forward and the girl stopped spewing her thoughts, eagerly awaiting him to interject and contribute.

"Look, you seem like a nice girl," he lied. He honestly didn't really have an opinion about her one way or the other. He'd been hit on plenty of times back on Ryloth but had never felt anything by it, other than occasional annoyance when it interrupted his duties. "But it seems like we both have some disappoints over this arrangement. Why don't we cut our losses now, get some time back in our days, and part on good terms?"

Now it was her turn to frown.

"You... you're disappointed?"

Howzer was already scooting his chair back to stand. "It's nothing personal against you," he tried to reassure, though even he could hear how impolite it sounded. He hated that he was in such a situation. He should have never come in the first place.

He gave her a formal nod, almost like a salute, and then strode through the patio gate and down quiet, cobbled streets back toward the town square. Each step felt heavier and heavier and he did whatever he could to ignore the guilt twisting in his chest, even trying to look at his surroundings and focus on taking in the architecture and flora and beauty. It was a hollow focus, but he was determined to keep walking, believing he'd soon forget about this awkward encounter and the rude behavior he'd displayed, and things would go back to normal... as normal as they could be in a war.

But then a voice started to cut through to him from behind.

"Sir? Sir!"

He turned in confusion to see the girl jogging toward him. She pulled up a few feet from him, only slightly out of breath.

"Sorry. Um, I don't know your name. Or your rank."

"My rank doesn't matter anymore," he said, immediately regretting how defensive it sounded. He really was a mess today, wasn't he.

"Sure it does," she said with a small smile. "It was an accomplishment, something you should always be proud of."

Without realizing, the tenseness in his shoulders started to loosen. He took in a deep breath and said the first normal thing all day. "My name's Howzer. Captain Howzer."

Her smile grew just a bit more. "It's nice to meet you, Captain Howzer. And... I'm sorry if I came across rude or annoying before. I understand if you don't find me attractive, but I really don't want that to be your impression of me. I really wasn't disappointed to find out you were my date. In fact, I'm disappointed I didn't actually get to have you as a date. But, like I said... it's okay if you're not interested."

Howzer's heart was twisting again. She was a nice girl. Sweet, thoughtful. Still used too many words, but he supposed he didn't use enough sometimes. As far as attraction, he wasn't entirely sure he knew what that felt like, but those bright eyes and soft smile weren't so bad to look at.

"It's not that I'm not interested," he started to say slowly, but then realized he wasn't sure how to finish the thought.

The girl stepped closer. "You're just not ready?"

"Honestly, I don't know if I ever will be ready." He gave a sheepish shrug, though he was starting to feel better. He appreciated that she was helping him sort through these confusing feelings. Her eyes were closer, swimming with the reflection of the sky and what he believed to be genuine care. Before he knew it, he was elaborating. "I mean, do I like the idea of sitting down for coffee with someone and getting to know them? Of course. But to what end? I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I can be a good friend, let alone... something else."

She nodded in understanding but still offered a different perspective. "To be fair, no one really knows what the future holds. And relationships come in all different forms. There's no one way to be a good friend. Or a good something else."

Howzer's eyes slipped away from hers, pulled toward the glistening sea in the backdrop behind her. He mulled over her words as he watched the waves, nothing but tiny little ripples from this distance. It reminded him of some of the paintings he saw back on Ryloth. He'd always been impressed with artists who could make small details seem real. They were only small strokes on a canvass but they captured a whole entire feeling.

He shook himself, not sure why he was thinking about such a thing right now. The girl was still watching him with a small but knowing smile. She stepped back and returned the nod he'd given her back at the cafe.

"I'm really glad to have met you, Captain. I wish you all the best."

She turned and started walking back the way she'd came. Howzer let her get a few steps before finally calling out.

"Wait. I didn't get your name."

She paused and smiled at him over her shoulder.

"Hope."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Other Clones Tag: @kaijusplotch, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor,

@flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🩵 More Howzer Fics Master List [TBA] | 🍾 One Shots Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

[bloody-bee-tea]

Emotional Spring 2025 Day 6 - Your eyes are so pretty

Hitoshi just slumped over the desk in the office he barely gets to use in the agency he's signed up with when a commotion catches his attention.

It's nothing much, just some hushed whispers but all of a sudden the energy is entirely off and what kind of underground hero would Hitoshi be if he didn't notice this immediately?

Still, he doesn't pick himself up from his slumped position because he's tired and there are enough pros in the vicinity to handle whoever just stepped into the building. It isn't until he catches an almost reverently whispered "Dynamight" that Hitoshi blinks his eyes open and rolls his head around until he is at least able to see something.

And the something he sees is a pair of red eyes, staring right at him. Because Bakugo is standing right in front of his desk.

Hitoshi is pretty sure that there's supposed to be security around somewhere, so it's kind of rude that Bakugo was allowed this far in, but Hitoshi is too tired to complain.

"I'm going to do us both a favour and not comment on your work morale," Bakugo says and Hitoshi sighs, melting even more into the table.

"Wonderful," Hitoshi mutters and then, finally, picks himself up and moves his body into an upright position.

He's not quite motivated enough to care about his posture, but he feels marginally better like this. Less like Bakugo is staring down at a bothersome insect and more like an actual human being.

Hitoshi bites back the urge to ask what the hell Bakugo is doing here because he's not quite sure where he stands with Bakugo, regarding his quirk. They are—acquainted at best, not friends by a long shot, and even though Bakugo has never seen put off by Hitoshi, his quirk, or his general look, Hitoshi is very careful not to provoke him.

It really wouldn't do to get on Bakugo's bad side.

"I'm guessing your presence here is not an accident," Hitoshi drawls out, careful to keep his eyes avoided as best as he can because old habits die hard and after the day he's had he's not in the mood to see someone else flinch away from him.

"Astute observation, troll doll. Do they teach you that in underground heroics?"

"Observational skills come with asshole families who are out to hurt you," Hitoshi shoots back, because the entire fall-out with his foster family and his subsequent adoption by Aizawa and Yamada kinda turned into a public spectacle at school and so Bakugo damn well knows about it anyway.

"Fair enough," Bakugo shrugs, clearly not fazed by it at all and then he lightly kicks Hitoshi's boot.

"You're meeting me for dinner tonight."

It's not a question, not even a suggestion, but an order through and through and Hitoshi blinks at the floor.

"I kinda had plans," he tries but Bakugo scoffs.

"Rotting away at home doesn't count as having plans," he shoots back and Hitoshi glares at him from underneath his bangs because how dare he even know that.

The effect gets lost because of all the hair in the way, which was kind of the explicit intent, but right now Hitoshi curses his fashion choice.

He would have liked to full on glare at Bakugo but he did this to himself, he guesses and contents himself with knowing that he is glaring. It's the little things that tie him over these days.

"Dinner," Hitoshi repeats after a while because it still doesn't quite compute.

"You do eat, right?" Bakugo says and drags his eyes over Hitoshi's body.

Hitoshi refuses to admit that the look gets him a little bit hot under the collar and instead puffs up in indignance because he might be lanky and not a gym rat like Bakugo is but he put on some weight and muscles, thank you very much. Besides, he needs to be fast and agile for his work, so Bakugo gets to judge shit about him.

"Depends on if it's any good," Hitoshi gives back, crossing his arms over his chest and Bakugo snorts, even as his eyes avidly track Hitoshi’s movement.

"Course it will be. I'll text you the details. Try to show up in something appropriate," Bakugo tells him with one last look at Hitoshi's torn up hero outfit and then he leaves without giving Hitoshi time to say anything.

"What the fuck just happened," Hitoshi grumbles to himself once he's sure that Bakugo is gone and then he promptly flops back down over the desk.

Whatever it was, it has time until after Hitoshi's nap.

~*~*~

Hitoshi still doesn't know what happened with Bakugo, even two hours later when he's on his way to meet his parents for lunch. He has half a mind just brushing him off and telling him that there's no way in hell he's going to meet him for dinner, but the restaurant Bakugo send him is one Hitoshi has been dying to try out and in all honesty, he can't quite find it in him to tell Bakugo no.

Hitoshi never really managed to grow out of his stupid crush on him, so this is really fucking with him.

Enough so that his parents can tell with just one look.

"Sit. Talk." Aizawa doesn't even give him enough time to take off his shoes before the orders hit him and Hitoshi rushes to comply, even though he'd rather not talk about any of this.

"Oh, those are some deep worry lines," Yamada mutters under his breath and vanishes into the kitchen, only to come back with a cup of coffee. "Here," he offers it to Hitoshi and now he knows that he must look really bad because for Yamada to so freely offer him a coffee in the middle of the day doesn't mean anything good.

"I just came off a mission," Hitoshi tries to explain because surely the prospect of going on a date with Bakugo can't have him looking that much like shit but Aizawa and Yamada share a look between each other that tells Hitoshi that yes, it's exactly that bad.

"And now the real reason please," Aizawa says, one eyebrow raised, and Hitoshi sinks deeper into the couch.

"Bakugo asked me to meet him for dinner."

"A date?" Yamada excitedly asks and clasps his hands together.

"You don't seem very receptive. Finally grown out of your crush?"

"Ugh," Hitoshi says with feeling and hides his steadily growing blush behind his cup of coffee.

"I'll take that as a no," Aizawa says with a nod and then steals Hitoshi's coffee right from between his hands.

"Traitor," Hitoshi hisses because now he doesn't have anything to hide behind but Aizawa only levels him with a flat stare as he takes a sip of Hitoshi’s coffee.

"What got your panties in a twist then?" Yamada asks, poking at Hitoshi's burning cheek. "Your crush seems to be going strong, still. You should be elated!"

"It's just—" Hitoshi cuts himself off, mulling over what he wants to say. "It doesn't seem real?" he then carefully offers and Yamada and Aizawa both frown at him.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Aizawa asks and Hitoshi drops his head onto the backrest of the couch.

"Because," Hitoshi says and waves his hand while staring at the ceiling. "He just showed up at my agency and told me I'm meeting him for dinner. That's not something that just happens."

"Why not? You're friends, aren't you?"

"Eh," Hitoshi breathes out because he wouldn't call them friends exactly. They run in the same circles, mostly, but they barely talk and they never run into each other professionally, seeing how Bakugo is like the spotlight hero and Hitoshi is very much not. "We're acquainted," Hitoshi finally tells them.

"So him asking you out is strange?"

"It's unexpected," Hitoshi mutters and crosses his arms in front of his chest when he amends "It is strange."

"You think he doesn't mean it," Aizawa carefully says, and Hitoshi presses his lips together.

He doesn't like to admit it, but it's been at the back of his mind ever since Bakugo showed up at the agency. Hitoshi is convinced that at best it's a friendly dinner and at worst it's a joke, but he's not about to say that to his parents.

"What other reasons could he have to ask you out for dinner?" Yamada asks, tilting his head curiously and Hitoshi works his jaw.

He's not going to say 'as a joke' because he can just imagine the worry that'll set off in his parents and he's better these days. He doesn't question his worth anymore, not like he used to back in school but sometimes it's still hard anyway.

Instead of saying that he rolls his head around, signalling that he's thinking about it before he finally mutters "It could be work related."

As soon as he says it, he's convinced it must be the truth. The restaurant Bakugo wants to take him to is high-end enough that Hitoshi wouldn't be surprised if any suspicious dealings were done there and this makes much more sense than anything else.

"You think he wants your expertise on a case?" Aizawa doesn't sound convinced, but Hitoshi doesn't let that get to him.

"Yeah. I mean, what else could it be?"

"A date?" Yamada offers, clearly just as unconvinced than Aizawa is but Hitoshi shakes his head.

"No, this makes more sense. It's work related, of course it is. How could I ever be so stupid?" Hitoshi mutters and then yelps when Yamada flicks his forehead.

"You're not stupid and a date is a perfectly valid conclusion to come to," he reprimands him while Aizawa nods to the side and Hitoshi rubs his forehead.

"Ouch."

"Get over it," Aizawa heartlessly says. "It could be a date."

"It won't be," Hitoshi says with more conviction now because this he understands.

He's good at his job; he has an almost perfect record and he takes extra care to end his missions with as little collateral as possible. He has something to offer, in that regard, unlike in the romantic department.

Hitoshi knows he's not the easiest person to get along with, his resting bitch face keeps people at bay usually and he knows people are freaked out by his quirk and his eyes so there's no chance in hell Bakugo wants anything romantic from him.

"He convinced himself," Yamada sighs out and Aizawa presses his lips into an unhappy line as he nods.

"And possibly of the completely wrong thing," he says in the same tone as Yamada had and Hitoshi glares at them.

"You don't know if it's the wrong thing," he tells them as he gets up. "I'll let you know who was right at the end."

"Yeah, you do that," Aizawa says and just his tone lets Hitoshi know what he truly thinks.

"Regardless of the reason, food in that restaurant is supposed to be very good, so at least enjoy that, alright?" Yamada adds and Hitoshi nods because that at least is something he can do.

He leaves his parents after that, desperate to get at least some sleep before he meets Bakugo and it's easy for him to not get his hopes up. It's not going to be a date, he's mostly convinced of that, no matter how much he wants it to be, and a work dinner he can handle.

But mostly Hitoshi is just going to enjoy the food.

~*~*~

Bakugo looks amazing. Hitoshi did dress up as well, simply because the restaurant deserves it, but Bakugo is easily the best looking person in the entire restaurant, and that's Hitoshi's objective opinion.

His crush has nothing to do with it.

"You look tense," Bakugo says once they ordered their food and Hitoshi shuffles his feet under the table.

"Shouldn't I be?"

"Is there a reason for you to be?" Bakugo shoots back and Hitoshi sighs before he decides to simply get it out of the way.

If he doesn't mention it, he'll probably wonder the entire dinner why they are here and Hitoshi would prefer to know now.

"Why are we here? What are we looking for? Is this a debriefing dinner or are we checking something out?"

Bakugo blinks at him, clearly completely taken off guard and Hitoshi quickly averts his eyes. He already asked questions, there's no reason to freak Bakugo out more by keeping eye contact.

"You don't have to answer," Hitoshi mutters when Bakugo stays quiet and he thought he was over the hurt of people not answering him but clearly Hitoshi was wrong.

It hurts just as much as it always has.

"Are you goddamn stupid?" Bakugo finally says and even though he tries to sound angry, he just sounds confused. "You think this is work related?"

"What else would it be?" Hitoshi gives back and then winces.

You'd think he knows better than to ask questions back-to-back like that but he's grown used to wielding his quirk in his work and it's going to come bite him in the ass now.

"You fucker," Bakugo breathes out and leans back in his chair. "You think I'm taking you here for work?"

Hitoshi nods because he doesn't trust his voice anymore and Bakugo lets out a harsh breath.

"You're so goddamn stupid," he mutters, again, and Hitoshi would be offended, but he no longer knows what's going on and he doesn't trust his judgement anymore. "Now listen here, troll doll," Bakugo says and leans forward, piercing Hitoshi with his gaze.

Hitoshi isn't scared to meet his eyes, he's faced more dangerous people on his missions, but he doesn't want to upset Bakugo further, so he keeps his gaze down.

"This is a date. I asked you out on a date. There is no work-related reason for us to be here."

Hitoshi has half a mind asking if they are being monitored but Bakugo seems so earnest that the words die on his tongue.

"Why would you?" he finally blurts out and to his credit, Bakugo doesn't hesitate to answer at all.

"Because I like you," he gives back and even though Hitoshi has no intention of seizing control of Bakugo he can feel his quirk humming under his skin.

It's a good opportunity, because Bakugo is still looking at him, so Hitoshi allows his quirk to fill him, and he knows what it does to his eyes. They are already creepy, with their white pupils, but when he allows his quirk to flow through him, when he reaches for it, the purple of his eyes bleeds out onto the sclera until the pupils are the only white left.

It's creepy and freaky and it has been the reason people hated him more than once in the past. And Hitoshi fears that Bakugo forgot just what kind of freak Hitoshi really is.

Hitoshi doesn't feel the change to his eyes, but he knows it's happening and he catches Bakugo's gaze, practically daring him to jerk back.

Instead of doing that, of doing the rational thing, the one thing Hitoshi came to expect, Bakugo leans forward, clear admiration on his face.

"Your eyes are so pretty," he breathes out and Hitoshi sees his hand twitch and for once he thinks it's not because someone wants to beat him but because Bakugo wants to reach out and touch.

"You're insane," Hitoshi says, completely taken off guard as he lets his quirk fizzle out. "I'm a freak. It's not enough that I have the most villainous quirk, I also have the looks to match it!"

"I thought you went to therapy," Bakugo says because of course he would know that and Hitoshi sinks into his chair.

"I did, fuck off. What's it to you?"

"Shouldn't you be more confident then? Less of a mess?"

"I can be as much of a mess as I want to be," Hitoshi grumbles out and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Why are we here, Bakugo?" he then asks again, hoping to get an answer that makes more sense than being on a date, but Bakugo doesn't do him that favour.

"We're here because I wanted to take you out on a date," he almost mercilessly says. "And I would appreciate it if you could tell me if you want that or not, and stop with your stupid self-deprecating shit."

"You—want to be on a date with me," Hitoshi repeats and Bakugo looks at him as if he's stupid.

"Yes," he still says and Hitoshi tilts his head in question.

"Because you have—what? Feelings for me?"

"That's usually why people go on dates, yes," Bakugo gives back and then leans back with a sigh as he rolls his eyes. "I've had a crush on you since you joined our class," Bakugo finally admits and Hitoshi blinks.

"It's been years."

"Yeah, don't I fucking know it," Bakugo grumbles. "So. Date, yes or no?"

"You think my eyes are pretty."

"Unfortunately I think all of you is pretty," Bakugo shoots back and Hitoshi is fascinated to see a slight blush on his face. "It seems resting bitch face is doing it for me."

It's surprising enough that it startles a laugh out of Hitoshi and just like that, all the tension is broken.

"Well, lucky you, because murderous glare is doing it for me," he admits, because there's no way he can spin Bakugo's words into something else anymore and maybe, just maybe Hitoshi gets what he wants for now.

"Is that so?" Bakugo's lips twitch up into a small smile.

"A date it is, then," Hitoshi says before he can second guess his or Bakugo's words again and the smile that takes over Bakugo's face for just a second does more to convince him than any words could have.

It's not what he expected, not what he even dared to hope for, and he's going to be endlessly teased by his parents, but this is the best thing that happened to Hitoshi all year and now he's going to enjoy it.

And he already knows that it's going to be easy with Bakugo.

[oddwriter]

Across the street you find the florist who embeds arcane magic into his flower arrangement to brighten his customers' day. He uses the flowers' language to convey messages that typically are very nice and well meaning, you can imagine when he one day is visited by his neighbor with a specific message in mind. However Jayce is always ready to help his customers, no matter how rude the message is.

OR: Florist! Jayce meets Tattoo artist!Viktor meet cute, co-staring Powder and her meddling skills.

[loganwritesprobably]

First Dates With.. (One Piece)

First dates with Crocodile, Mihawk and Robin, characters decided by the recent poll I did to see what characters people liked. I'll do a second round of those polls in the future, with a slightly bigger audience for this sort of thing and set to seven days each

Reader is gender neutral for all three shorts

Crocodile had a sense of all things expensive, and it was hardly a stretch to believe that the same thing would apply to the way he treated you. He'd courted you not so gently, with daring touches and flirtatious words, and now you were finally doing something together officially. You'd figured you knew him well enough to know what to expect by now, and it turned out that you were right. He'd taken you out to a richer area of Alabasta, far from the capital and closer to the west coast, where affluent people lived away from the general riff raff. You supposed if Crocodile wasn't so busy attempting to take over the country, he'd probably want to live here too.

The restaurant was gorgeous, and you'd expected that you'd be taken somewhere exactly like this. Grand chandeliers, golden decorations, waiters dressed in the finest fabrics even for their working uniform. It was gorgeous, there was no doubt, though perhaps a little high brow for you. After all, you were what these people considered riff raff.

He'd made a reservation, and followed the waiter without concern for fitting in or price. This was what it was to date a man like him, and it was a nice change of pace compared to men who never showed up or expected you to all the work to keep the relationship going, but doubts crept in too. You sat without a word to the waiter, and took the menu in hand - it didn't even have prices on. "If you were worried about ordering the cheapest thing available, stop. Money is no issue, you know that." Crocodile said with a smile, the soft kind that you knew he didn't show to anyone else. It made you feel special. You didn't reply, just laughed and shook your head, and read over the menu for what you wanted.

He ordered for the two of you when the waiter came back around, sensing your discomfort, and once the waiter was gone, he struck up a conversation. He started with familiar topics, like the casino, and his warlord meetings, and your tension began to ease. It didn't take long for it to feel like you and Crocodile were the only ones in the room. "He's obsessed." You remarked with a laugh, quickly moving some hair from your face. "It's disgusting." Crocodile replied with a grimace, glancing up as the waiter returned with your food. You each took your plate, and you looked down at it with a smile. It looked damn good. "Well, nothing more about him then, because this food certainly isn't."

You ate mostly in silence for the first few minutes, enjoying the flavours, and the quiet company that Crocodile was so good at proving. He didn't need to say anything, just his presence was enough. "Did you see the newspaper yesterday?" You asked after a minute, pausing between bites so you could speak without being rude. "I'm not sure I did." He remarked, head slightly tilted with curiosity. "New rookie bounty released, pretty high for someone so new, and coming from the East Blue." You said, setting your fork back down on your plate so that you could use your hands to speak without making any mess. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." "Not for you, of course, but it doesn't hurt to keep an eye on rising stars." "You seem interested in him, or optimistic at least." "Well, he's a D. They're all interesting."

Everything with Crocodile seemed to come easy. He was so unapproachable, so frightening often, a harsh and dangerous man. Not to you. He'd decided that he liked you, and so he treated you like royalty because he'd decided that you deserved that. He tried not to lose his temper when you were involved, and never as a direct result of you - he never apologised if he did lose his temper, but he made sure to check in on you, and make sure you were okay afterward.

The rest of the meal went off without a hitch, and the meal was perfect. You couldn't complain about anything that Crocodile did for you, even his displays of wealth were done with careful consideration for your interests and tastes. You opted not to get a dessert, the main course was perfectly filling, and instead decided to take your leave. Crocodile paid out of earshot, so you couldn't concern yourself with what he'd spent.

The best part of the night, however, was when Crocodile effortlessly scooped you up into his arms, holding you close and tightly. "What are you-" "Just trust me." Crocodile said softly, a smirk on his face that promised mischief, and then he turned to sand. He travelled swiftly across the Alabastan desert, with you kept safe and sound in the centre of the storm, far better transport than any camel or crab you could've commandeered. You screamed and howled with laughter, after you recovered from your initial shock. It was almost magical.

He deposited you directly outside your door, gracefully setting you down and returning to his solid shape. "Are you alright?" "It was worth trusting you." That sentiment seemed to shock, or maybe even scare, Crocodile. He took your hand in his and gently kissed your knuckles. "I'll see you again soon." He practically promised, then once again he turned to sand, carried away on the soft evening breeze, toward the casino once again.

Being invited back to Mihawk's island was an honour, really. He had been so polite, and openly given you the chance to refuse his invitation, but of course you hadn't. He'd offered you his hand to help you into his little coffin shaped boat, then climbed in after you, untying it from the dock and setting sail. Despite the small size of his boat, you had no fear of danger, because he was there to look after you and make sure that you were just fine. There was no risk when Mihawk was there to protect you. The sail was nice, with the sea breeze blowing gently over your skin, the salt in the air, and the warm beams of the sun gently beating down on you.

Kuraigana was not as nice as the open ocean, but it was exactly what you'd been expecting it to be. It was dark, gloomy and overcast - at least there was less risk of skin cancer from the sun. Probably. But, it was quaint in a way. You knew he was the only person living there, and that he had taken to cultivating the land in order to grow his own produce for times that he couldn't sail for fresh produce from other islands. He also lived in a castle which was a huge bonus in your books, even if it was dusty (you hadn't asked about the dust, because you didn't dare, but there was no way he was keeping an entire castle free of dust that would be a full time job for one guy).

When you arrived, he docked with ease, and helped you back up and out of the boat. A date, in his own home, rather than some fancy restaurant or in a park on some nice summery island. Instead, you'd be dining at the table he used every night, eating a meal that he'd prepared himself - because not only is he the world's greatest swordsman but he also cooks - and then you'd spend the rest of the evening in front of a warm fire before heading to sleep in a spare bedroom because he refused to ferry you back to your island in the dark, that was a risk he didn't want to take.

Like a true gentleman, Mihawk offered you his arm to take, and you dutifully hooked hand around the crook of his elbow to be guided up to the castle. It wasn't so bad, you'd expected the island to be colder, and yet it was a perfectly comfortable temperature. You could hear the hooting of the humandrills amongst the trees that Mihawk had already warned you about, and so the sound didn't worry you. Apparently they'd come to some sort of civil agreement to leave each other alone, which suited you just fine. The castle was cleaner than you'd expected, though sparsely decorated which you had expected, only the necessities like a rack for Yoru and candles to keep the place lit in the entryway.

You headed right to the dining room after you'd both taken off your shoes and Mihawk had taken your coat to be hung on a stand near the door, and it was a large room. A dining table sat in the middle of the room, far larger than you thought he'd need considering he lived here alone - when it struck you that it was likely none of this was Mihawk's, rather having been left behind by whoever had lived here before. You took a seat at the table, though pulled it out to be more comfortable, while Mihawk set a record to play on the other side of the room. The music was less classical than it looked like he'd enjoy, more so rock in style, and you found yourself interested in all you were learning.

Mihawk disappeared to cook, and it didn't take long, maybe a half hour for him to prepare the meal. He brought out spaghetti in a delicious red, wine-based sauce (very Mihawk) served with what you were fairly sure was sea beast meat. He also presented a side dish filled with garlic bread (not a vampire then, good to know), as well as the rest of the bottle of wine that he'd used to cook for the two of you to drink. You took your first bite and almost moaned - he wasn't just a cook, he was a brilliant cook. Better than most you'd encountered. You ate with enthusiasm and vigour, happy to sit together in silence aside from the music playing in the background - you'd replaced the record with another one at some point while he was cooking.

"So, you made that pretty fast, all things considered." You remarked when all your pasta was gone, and a slice of garlic bread was in your hand. "Most things I have pre-prepared and frozen, so that my day can end with ease whenever I return from where I've been, especially since I frequently take long trips away from home." He replied, sipping at his wine, casually reclined in his chair. "Smart. You're an amazing cook by the way." "Thank you, dear." He'd never called you that before, and it made a little buzz shoot up your spine, and your face turn warm. Dear. You liked it.

He took away the dishes once you were both done, and you followed after him, intent on helping him clean up. You refused to let him turn you away. While he washed, you dried, and in no time everything was done and returned to where it belonged. He then led you out to the living room where you curled up in matching arm chairs in front of the grand fireplace he'd mentioned, once again listening to music, and now enjoying books. A perfect night, if you said so yourself. And you did.

You'd offered to organise the date, since you were the one to suggest going on a date to begin with, but Robin had insisted that she wanted to plan it, and you couldn't find the strength to deny her. You had no idea what to expect, but you found that you didn't mind too much. She surprised you a day after the ship had docked at another island, and told you to meet her in the town centre at midday on the dot. You could do that. You spent the morning with Sanji, while he took stock of what the ship had and needed, you cleaned the surfaces and sharpened the knives, just to offer a helping hand where you were needed. Just before midday, you left the ship to locate the town centre.

There, already waiting, was Robin. "You're early." She said, standing from the bench she'd been sitting on to reach out for you. "Well I wasn't going to be late." You replied with a smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek. It may be your first date, but you and Robin had known each other for some time now, affection came easily between you two. With your hand in hers, she gently began to guide you away from the square and the fountain at its centre, into the town.. and then back out of it on the other side. You had no idea where you were headed, but you had nothing less than the utmost trust in the girl you'd chosen to call your own.

She guided you away from the town, into the trees at the edge, and through them. She did it easily, as if she'd done it a hundred times before even though you knew it was the first time that either of you had been to the island. Just one of her many talents, you supposed, and that was why you cared for her as much as you did. She was incredible. You bobbed and weaved between the trees, over rotting stumps and roots grown out of control, all while hand in hand. When you passed through the trees, finally, the light shining down on you again, you were in a large open field. You weren't sure you'd ever seen grass so green, and the flowers growing amongst the blades were beautiful, creating the perfect spot for a date. You scanned over the area, and finally your eyes fell on a blanket, and a basket.

With a warm smile, Robin gently tugged your hand to keep you moving, and you followed once again as she led you to the blanket she'd set up, where there was a basket of food and drinks provided by Sanji, and some of the local market stalls. You sat down first, still amazed by the scenery, unable to take your eyes away from the natural beauty. And then Robin stepped into your sightline and you had to wonder how anything could've distracted you from her beauty. She sat beside you, and you reached out to squeeze her thigh. "You like it then?" She asked, reaching for the basket to pull a flask full of cola kept cool inside for the two of you to drink. "It's beautiful, just like you." You replied, and she laughed airily. You weren't sure either of you had stopped smiling since you'd met up in the town centre. You took a cup from her, filled with cola, and the cold of the drink cut up the heat of the day. It wasn't an unbearable heat, but still the cool drink was welcomed.

The two of you ate, drank, and shared idle chatter, talking about the crew and the town, and what islands may be in your future. Things always came so easily with Robin, you never had to worry about what she was thinking or whether you were doing the right thing. There was no wrong thing to do. She'd been intimidating when you'd first met, but now you struggled to remember why aside from in battle, she was so gentle, and gorgeous like the perfect flower. You wanted to kiss her - so you did. You leaned in closer, waiting for her to finish her sentence before you sealed your lips together, a smile on your face all the while. She rested a hand on your upper thigh, happy to kiss lazily under the sun - you were in no hurry after all.

[thicksexyasswomen46]

Goodnites

@_keisha

@thicksexyasswomen46🍸🍹

[viejospellejos]

No sé si reirme o llorar…

[joannasteez]

crying, laughing, loving, lying - australian merlot

pairing: roman reigns x angel (black oc) warning: no warnings. first date fluff. this is an alternate universe work of fiction, so no wrestling will be mentioned. authors note: this will hopefully, be followed by other pieces that show the progression of angel and romans relationship. get ready for hallmark movie realness. music inspo: crying, laughing, loving, lying by labi siffre word count: 3100

some restaurants are made for first dates. for habitual blind daters too skittish to reach beyond that hectic first circle of hell limbo called first base. the 'will it now? won't it finally?', of it all. this ceaseless punishment of lovelessness. and angel thinks that it's all more shitty than bullshit anyways. love is simply an accompaniment and not the whole damn tune. a cappella's are more fascinating anyways. love is more of an accessory. something like bracelets or anklets. a thing to put on that dresses up life a little more prettily. but there is a trouble to it. the labor of coordination far less rewarding than it's worth. and what of the fruitlessness? the defilement and scarcity that rottens the garden. a few ruined by many and now she's at her tenth blind date since the new year, already familiar with the taste of fucking bile.  

"you need someone". 

but she doesn't. because need implies the failure of survival without it and if after every date her stomach churns—with a fear that she refuses to acknowledge—then that wasn't something she wanted anyways. definitely not something she needed. 

but here, amongst white table cloth, she waits. 7:39 pm. slightly too early to be upset because he, whoever he is, isn't late yet. but she wishes very openly that he will be. it'd just be a strike against him. something that eases the guilt of ghosting him when he inevitably asks for another date. and please don't mistake the self assuredness for a too big ego, she just knows these things. it's based all on common occurrence. they bring roses because "all women love roses", dragging their feet in eased and so damn smiley despite being five, ten or even fifteen minutes late and it absolutely grinds her fucking gears. cleanliness is next to godliness but fuck it punctuality is too. he will come with a rose and he will be late and he will ramble about himself and he will stare at her cleavage and then imply that him paying the bill grants access to spreading her open and then the inevitable lump of bile. 

it was a song she'd heard and a dance done a thousand times and her head hurt from the thundering bass and her feet from trying to keep pace with such terrible rhythm. 

angel wants to leave. wants to finally grant herself the relief of no guilt by stepping away before the burden of ridding her tongue of the bile. 

but she can't, because he's here now. sitting down with no rose. 

what the hell? 

and he is beautiful. a huge mountain of a man. herculean with a directness to his eyes that makes it appear as though he is staring through her skin and into deeper, more vulnerable parts. heat scorching fast over nerves and bones till she grows warm and its concerning. because angel has gone on first dates with beautiful men before. sat with them, spoken to and at them, laughed with and at them, dined with them, but for some gut churning reason, this, feels different. the temperature of the atmosphere is warm. the life in his eyes, inviting. 

and for the love of God he doesn't have a rose and it makes angel laugh. small and to herself. 

he sits. confused and amused in that awkward way. where the idea of a joke itself makes you laugh, not privy to hooks, punchlines, sinkers and the like. 

and for the first time in a myriad of failed dates, angel is taken by his voice. a dark symphony. pitch low and smooth. strong and double bass like. 

"can i get in on the joke?"

she wants to shrivel into and like a ball. because it wasn't necessarily funny. it was more so the absurdity of the situation. of course after much complaining and internal deliberation she would be sent someone that would stick her foot in her mouth. at least in regards to the romantic gesture of giving roses.

her throat clears. "sorry, it's just...it's kinda weird. it's nothing". 

he squints and it feels like a hole is tearing through her skin. peeling away till its settling warm into veins.

"if you leave me in suspense i'm gonna make you feel like shit about it". 

"is that a threat?"

"more like a spoiler".

and now the laugh is bright and clear. nothing hidden and inward about it. and he loves the sound. wouldn't mind if he could hear it a few more times tonight. her sarcasm more laden in her words than the surprise of them.

"because you've never practiced that before". 

"in a mirror once or twice, but i got you all giggly so tell me whats funny". 

angel sighs. "you didn't bring a rose and for whatever reason, men show up to first dates with roses", waving her fingers away to express the un-seriousness of her amusement. "it's just a thing". 

"like... the bachelor". 

"yeah", snorting. "sure, like the bachelor". 

his fingers, long and thick and just downright massive, rub into his beard. mulling over her words with a bout of sincerity that she doesn't think she's seen in a while. like some actual consideration, and not a half-assed pulling together of thoughts into words to make conversation for the sake of filling in the silence. 

"never really approached it like that. it seems more like a burden than anything y'know?", his eyes slipping over the bottle of wine you ordered before he showed, before its doing the same to your face. "flowers do the dying thing and then what? just something else to throw away. feels odd". 

"i mean, theres ways to preserve them". because of fucking course she would say this, after making a fuss about always getting flowers. but it was just that weird thing, trying to see the upside in a situation. to heal the downtrodden idealism of it all. "but i agree with you". 

"sounds like you want a rose". 

"i don't. i just-...". she sighs. flustered. "can we start over".

and he smiles. at her awkwardness and her eyes and the crinkle in her brows as she gathers herself. 

"of course". 

eyeing the bottle of wine again, his hand reaches out to you. 

"roman". 

and it fits. encapsulates his everything. name and the air of him reminiscent of old statues built with marble and brow sweating patience. an easy demeanor inherited from stoic warriors of old. fine silk looking hair and a jaw she's sure she can cut against if not for the thickness of his beard. 

she takes his hand and shakes. thumb over his veins and wrapped up in the strength of his palm. 

"angel".

"are you?"

they both smile. teasing eyes and a playful air. 

"sometimes".

he hums short. the song of it uprooted from his chest. hand slipping away from hers but the impression of it leaves a stain on her skin. where his fingers squeezed in the midst of a mere cordial shaking. and his eyes are not shy. taking hers to hold steady and uncompromising. and never has a man held her gaze so well, not since-

"you been here before?"

and it is only the shame of so many dates in such a short amount of time that leaves her tongue dry and her thoughts partial to lying. "uhh", her eyes sweeping over the menu. "no. i haven't". 

"any allergies?"

"used to be pescatarian a while back but i stopped. why?"

"i don't want you to surprise me with a closed airways cause i recced you something with peanut oil". 

"you've been here before?"

"a few times". 

"on dates". more like a statement than a question. 

he's busy looking over the menu, like he's seeing it for the first time. "dates, work stuff, a night out. it's a cool spot. convenient". he takes the wine bottle, opening it to pour. humming in delight as he nose takes to smell. "you've been here before though".

"what?"

angels heart sinking way down till it's falling steady out of her chest cavity and into her stomach. taking something similar to a rolling tumble as it goes and it feels devastatingly awful. being caught in a lie has never been a smooth easy ordeal and the urge to get up and leave runs rife under her skin. prickling in a manner that taunts her till her cheeks grow hot white. she wants to hide and suffer in the silence of her own shame. and he's a complete asshole about it, because he lets her simmer into a scorched heat, struck and wordless as a grin plays through his lips. picking up the wine bottle once more. his fingers wrapping about it easy and familiar. 

"when i said your last name for the reservation, the waiter called you by your first. which means she knows you, because you've been here a few times". his lips smiling. much more amused than worked up by your little white lie. sipping the wine to taste again. "that and the wine. first-timers spend too much on wine. the merlot here is decent enough". 

a forced chuckle toughens up. angel sooting the bridge of her nose with a thumb. un-fucking-believable. "this is fucking embarrassing". 

"it's good wine though. cheap as shit but it's pretty good".

"look", she starts. a deep sigh before she makes the effort to meet him. his brown eyes soft still. void of scrutiny. amusement waning but still nothing of judgement. and the niceties unnerved angel. most men didn't take too kind to lies in such a formally romantic setting. it made for awfully fierce energy that led to a frigidness she hated to maneuver. not that she was a habitual liar, but still, it worried her. "i didn't mean to lie... well... i did but-"

"it's alright. i get it. i used to be the same way".

"a liar?"

"embarrassed". 

and she knew exactly what he meant without him having to say it. because this probably wasn't his first date of the new year either. the wait staff were probably familiar with him too. his familiarity with the taste of the restaurants stock of merlot making perfect sense. he'd probably, once upon a time, given his fair share of roses. the what do you do for work spiel and the sometimes awkward dance of wanting more after the first date and wrongly reading what he thought were obvious suggestions that a woman wanted him physically. and sometimes thats all they wanted, or at least that's what angel thinks, because some of her dates just wanted sex. no strings or some strings and then it got tangled and messy. always too damn messy. but he was over the shame of cycling through to find "the one". angel had yet to get there. 

she clears her throat. thumbs twiddling together. apologetic as she looks to him. "i'm sorry anyways". 

roman's silence is heavy. his eyes slipping over her face. noting the details that exist in their guilt. but still even in this, angel is a beautiful woman. thick lashes and slightly hooded eyes. cheeks high and plump. her lips full and surely kissable. especially when she takes them between her teeth in what he's sure to be her nerves overworking themselves with all his staring and his wordlessness. his smile warm and easy again, turning back to the menu. he's had enough of making her feel like shit anyways, for it dampened the mood far too much and he rather her smile again and for as long as the date lasts. 

"forgiven and forgotten. the real litmus test is how you take your steak". 

"who said i wanted steak". 

"one, you owe me for lying".

she gasps. lips pulling up and her knee knocking softly into his. "you said forgiven and forgotten". 

"and two", he continues, chuckling. "you said you were pescatarian, meaning you gave it up cause you realized that grass ain't green".

"why are you reading me so well right now, this is crazy". 

"wouldn't be good at what i do if i couldn't".

her mouth purses over the wine glass to sip at the sweetness of the merlot, waiting for him to continue. and when he doesn't she finds herself more interested in hearing a man talk than she ever has in all her time of dating. 

"which is?"

"i teach and coach". 

"okay", her eyes play and rolling. "don't leave me in suspense. be more specific". 

and here the fierceness of his features round out to a softness. but surely it cant be those few sips of wine, suddenly freeing up the tight collection of his resolve. the slightest dusting of pink at his cheeks and his mouth smiling smaller. humility bracing him harshly just before her. it was more obvious to her now, he hates talking about himself. 

"sports history and college football", barely meeting her eyes. the menu suddenly becoming so very important to him. his throat clearing as his palm reaches to rub up against the thick hair of his beard. " 'm not a head coach or anything, just for the defensive line but its...", and finally he looks to her again. "it's cool". 

"don't say just like that. it down plays your passion. i like passion". 

the sincerity melting a warmth into him. the air feeling less suffocating for the both of them now as they share a smile. 

and the dinner goes smoother than angel had expected. the food cooked immaculately  and the wine warming her belly. his passionate talks soothing to her ears and his jokes funnier. the knock of his long legs turning into less of an accident and more of a playful teasing. and by the end of their steaks they're both closer than they started, leaning in to hear more of each others voices. his freckles an endearing scatter against his cheeks. the slick lick of his lips as he talks catching her eyes and by the end of her wine glass she comes to the arresting realization that he's doing it on purpose. slowly but surely ingratiating himself through small touches and that hostage holding stare. 

angel, afraid now, feels a disappointment weighing in her. the ending of it all , this little world of quickly built intimacy, nearing quicker than she realized. both of them perusing through the dessert menu. more than slowly to stretch the time.

"you a dessert guy?"

he sets down the menu. her voice bringing him in again. "fuck yeah i'm a dessert guy. they make a bomb ass bread pudding here. best i've had". 

and maybe her eyes are suggestive. and maybe they sharpen to pierce through him a little more fiercely and maybe her knee knocks into his when her lips part to speak. but angel does well about pleading the fifth, even with herself. 

her eyes looking up through her lashes as she flits them from the menu to him. and she can track the trailing of his gaze straight to her plump lips. "you've never had mine". 

"is that an invitation to taste test?"

a shiver breaks over her skin. an undulating warmth at her cheeks. she pushes her menu to the side. 

"y'know pastry emporium? the shop on 4th and everling?"

roman's brows jump in an instant, before they pull together. the sudden realization exciting his nerves.

"thats yours?"

"half of it. i co-own".

"i'm stoppin' by there all the time and i've never seen you". 

and the tiny world they live in has just become slightly smaller. their existences dancing on the edges of one another for who knows how long before this faithful night of teasing smiles and blood sweetening sips of australian wine.

"i don't mesh too well with the front of house stuff". her knee taking a soft slow lean into his. and maybe the styling and placement of the tables and chairs are purposeful. for moments like these. "but i can make an exception". 

"you better". his lips spreading wide and his smile bright. nothing bashful left in his expression as its overtaken by the prospect of seeing you again. "cause you owe me a taste test". 

and for once there is no threat of bile to stain her throat, or even the cringing anticipation thereof. and when they're both finally, hesitantly ready for the bill, he takes the responsibility without words. fitting his card into the leather book. appreciation swimming to settle gently in her belly along with the sweet merlot. he tips well too, and his fingers catch soft against her palm, leading her out of the restaurant and into the balmy night spring air. the urge to stick to him creeping in her skin. but the same seems to exist for him because he stands just before her, eyes circling the city, searching and thinking, before they find her face. a small smile on her lips as she looks to him expectantly. his touch grows firmer, as if he's just come to the end of a pending decision. fully taking her hand as he begins to step. 

"walk with me". but theres no inflection that implies a question. more of a statement that softly wills her into following. 

his hand as warm as his smile and gentle even in its size. he strolls easy too, to help her keep up with the wide steps he takes. 

but even beyond the easy going tenderness of him, angel has never felt such a stillness in her nerves before. the city she's seen a thousand times suddenly appearing brighter and less overwhelming. the usual droning no longer a harsh symphony. the pitch and pace less grating. and maybe it's silly, because he's, despite his teasings and his suggestive eyes and interesting conversation, still a stranger. still a man with a world of a life she knows so little about. filled with hopes and dreams and secrets. but that feeling nags still. nestles deep under her skin as it attempts to force out the hesitancies. 

roman leads her to the front of a flower shop and her eyes play at rolling. 

she tries to pull him away from the entrance. "we spoke about this".

"we did". 

his smiling melting her resolve to mush. so bright and unapologetic in how it spreads. he takes her hand tightly, pulling her into the shop. 

he orders one rose exactly. giving it to her after he's paid for it. 

"why?", she asks. trying to fight the rising heat in her cheeks. 

"because i think deep down, you want it. you just don't want it to feel like an obligation. and this right here is all off the cuff. im sure of that”.

and angel's belly flutters. that cliche appearance of butterfly's. 

tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @gomussy @spritelucozade @venusesworld @thesamoanqueen @empressdede (if i forgot anyone who wants a tag for roman centered fics, my apologies! just remind me for next time)

[daydreampending]

Lover’s Lake

When Steve invites you for a day at the lake, it doesn’t even cross your mind that it was meant to be a date. Not until you’ve invited your entire friend group, and Robin is the one having to spell it out for you.

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Idiots in love | Mutual Pining | Friends to Lovers

Main Masterlist

AO3 Link

[welele]

Buen gusto.

[goodgrammaritan]

Hey, 15 years since my (actual*) first date with my husband!!

*for YEARS I was mistaken and thought our first date was April 1, and it was such a thing, it even factored into our wedding date (first date April first, got engaged on a Friday the 13th, wedding = April 13!) A little disappointed to discover I was wrong when I checked our first exchange of messages on Facebook (I didn't give him my number, just my business card, because I was wary of dating due to a bad situationship)

[a-sparrows-melody]

The stargazing trope has a chokehold on me.

Percy and Rachel, under the moonlight and the stars - but they can't afford to be at an observatory, so they're sitting on the hood of Percy's Prius parked on a random field. They're shyly holding hands and blushing so hard.

It turns out that the streetlight is too bright for anyone to see any stars, so Rachel takes matters into her own hands.

She grabs her painting kit and just starts painting tiny stars and huge, cartoonish stars on Percy's face - brightly coloured and neon. She sits in Percy's lap, biting her lips, her wild red curls flying around all of them in the summer breeze.

And Percy's frozen because he's just blishing so much when Rachel's so close to him. He tentatively keeps his hands on her waist to protect her in case she falls off. And he's staring into Rachel's eyes so intently that he's failed to notice that she's stopped painting for a long while, just staring at him.

And then they take pictures of Percy's face and he keeps on making silly faces (mainly to hear Rachel's laugh) and finally they look at it on Rachel's phone and they make up constellations with each other because shit like hell they know constellations.

And they giggle so much and somehow it derails into a paint-fight and there's paint all over their clothes. Percy doesn't mind, though, just another thing to remind him of Rachel.

Finally when they're both tired but don't want to go home yet, Rachel puts her arm around Percy and he rests his head on her shoulders, both of them blushing as red as Rachel's hair.

Percy can't help thinking that this was the most perfect date ever and all they did was paint stars.

[submissivefeminist]

What is your favorite outfit to wear on a date?

Back in the day, I even had an article on my infamous first date dress. I wore it on basically every first date for over a decade.

Here's a little snapshot of some selfies I took before a first date from like 2010-2020.

However, the dress is a bit worn and has a small hole in it so I have retired it as of last year. I haven't decided on a new "usual" for first dates at this point. Unsure if I will do the same thing moving forward.

I have a little diner date with Mean Friend tomorrow and I'm thinking of going for something a little more ✨ bimbo pink ✨ for the sake of the scene.