#one piece 920

[kookoofufu]

Chopper and Zoro bro moments :)

[zorostiddiesaretheonepiece]

[onepiecebdays]

july 13th - queen

debut chapter: 920

recent chapter: 1074 (cover story)

epithet: queen the plague

current age: 56

affiliation: beast pirates

bounty: 1,320,000,000 berries

[every-caesar]

live caesar reaction

[4giorno]

hmmmmmm im thinking should i do an absolute copium move and upgrade the fading twilight for tartag 💀

[algumaideia]

I think I missed part of the story

Poor samurais Luffy will destroy your plan

How did Zoro get lost?

[halfwayhearted]

Will You Cry? — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Summary: Ever since JJ’s confession, it feels like your relationship with Spencer is crumbling to pieces right before your eyes. You’ve had enough.

Word Count: 920+

Disclaimer/s — ANGST (hiphip!), no fluff/comfort ending, no use of Y/N, I think that’s it! 🎀

A/N: Soooooo, haha… Lmk.

‘I’ve always loved you’.

Those were Jennifer Jareau's exact words to your boyfriend of two years. You weren't angry; it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She had to give the UnSub what he wanted, to be impressed. And she did exactly that.

You weren’t mad at her at all. Nor him.

Well, you weren't mad at him then. Now, it was a whole different story.

The pieces of your relationship were shattering, bit by bit, right in front of you. The worst part was, you felt completely and utterly helpless. You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But, he just kept on acting the same way.

Distant.

Once it hit exactly two months, you realized you faced one thought and one thought only.

If you decide to let go, how will he feel?

Will he reassure you, claiming it's just a… a rough patch, finally realizing just how deeply his lack of understanding and communication has quite literally affected you? Or, will he keep doing what he's been doing, shrugging and brushing you off like you're nothing but a stranger he happens to pass by almost every single day?

You'd find out one way or another.

Oh. You’ll actually find out right now! How fun.

As soon as you hear the front door unlock and creak open, you rise to your feet, casting a wary glance towards him. You nervously wipe your sweaty palms on your pants.

He had spent yet another few hours at the BAU, even though he didn't have to. That was also one of the reasons you so badly needed to talk to him. He never stayed this late before, but ever since everything went down, he started to. Leaving you to drive home alone, wondering if this was the slow, painful end of something special.

“Hey,” you begin, “You’re home late. Again.”

He merely hummed, a distant sound, as he took off his leather messenger bag, hung it on the hook with a weary sigh, and slipped off his shoes.

How could you even bring this up? Just—you didn’t know, take a deep breath and go for it? “Do you think we could maybe… talk?”

Slowly, Spencer flicked his gaze to meet yours. He mutters your name under his breath before replying, “I’m tired. Can this wait ‘til tomorrow?”

“No,” you blurted, internally face-palming. “It won’t take long, I don’t think.”

Inhaling sharply, your boyfriend nods and begins to take off his tie, his eyes never leaving you as you figure out how to start.

“About JJ’s confession,” you begin, mentally cursing yourself when you see him stiffen almost immediately. It’s already out. So, just stick with it. “Did it mean something to you?”

Silence. Deafening silence. The only sound is the subtle hum of the air conditioning. You vividly remember you and Spencer on the couch, his head on your lap as he read a book you both wanted to read together. He’d pause whenever the air conditioning kicked on, making you let out a small huff of laughter. It feels like it was just yesterday. But, in reality, it was four months ago.

You felt your patience thinning, “Spencer—”

“What do you want me to say?” He quips, lifting his arms in frustration. His words cut through the air, earning a bitter scoff in return.

You kept your composure. “Answer the question.”

“Why does it matter?”

Why does it matter? You could’ve burst out laughing right then and there, but you held it in.

“It matters because I need to know if everything I've been doing these past two months has been for nothing!” You snapped, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I tried to make this work, it’s like you’ve given up on us or something.”

All you get in return is silence, so you continue. “You don’t talk to me as much as you used to. Not about your day, what you’ve read, how you’ve been—nothing! It’s always ‘I’m tired, talk later,’ or you vanish into your office for hours and hours on end. We don’t even do the things we used to. Haven’t you realized? I—I don’t even know what to say to you anymore, Spencer. No weekly dates, no quality time spent. I didn’t mind because as long as you were here, I was fine. But now? Now, I’m not so sure. I’ve tried to get at least a little communication from you, but you’ve given me nothing. I’m tired, okay? So, please, talk to me.”

…

He blinks. Once, twice, three times. Nothing.

Of course.

A humorless laugh bubbles up and escapes your lips. The tears you fought so hard to hold back now stream uncontrollably down your cheeks. You brush past him and reach for your sweater. Just then, you feel the desperate brush of his fingers against your elbow, but you pull back and slip the fabric on with a trembling resolve.

You hear him say your name. You don’t answer as you grab your bag. He says it again, this time much louder. Still, you don't respond as you grab your keys. Once you stand in front of the door, you turn to face him. “If you can’t come to terms with your feelings just yet, I understand. But I’m done putting myself through that—the waiting. I won’t put up with that anymore. Not right now.”

He says nothing.

Spencer Reid is silent.

You catch the softening in his expression, but you turn away sharply, refusing to let yourself crumble under the weight of his gaze.

“Goodbye, Spencer.” And with that, you leave.

You were done.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[alonetimelover]

Could I request a dadrry instagram blurb?? That other one was amazing!!! Doesn’t have to follow on from the last one❤️

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

summary: A little instagram blurb with dadrry, a new pleasing drop, and babies' drawings.

masterlist taglist

famous!reader 1 2

————————————————————���—————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates and 1 028 302 others

pleasing Fancy Friends are here and presented to you by our littlest ambassadors - Andy and Franny.

Behold and wait for the posts about all 8(!) new colours straight from our ambassadors' painting room, made specially for this occasion.

Find your pleasing.

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles All smiles ♥️

yourinstagram My smiley baby!!!! 🥹

harryupdates whhhhaaaaaatt??? ambassadors???

ynupdates some cute babies

hArrysbtch oh my gooood

harrysmoustache i waited months and months for a drop that would cave me... I'm so buying all of the colours

user49 babies for ads?

user84 im conflicted now

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles and 7 202 403 others

yourinstagram rocking that farmer fit

view all 99 302 comments

harrystyles My two favourite girls

⤷ yourinstagram which ones exactly?

⤷ harrystyles No answer will be good

harryupdates weren't they just born?

⤷ yourinstagram that's how it feels! and now she walks

hArrysbtch i hate kids but i love all the clones from yn and harry

⤷ yourinstagram you make us look like a factory or smth

⤷ harrystyles or mad scientists

⤷ hArrysbtch im gonna take a social media break, you're right

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, ynupdates and 10 303 others

harryupdates HARRY and his older daughter at the Pleasing facility today in London!

view all 920 comments

hArrysbtch CEO!harry having a premiere in real life???

⤷ harrysmoustache weren't you supposed to take a social media break?

⤷ hArrysbtch shhhh

ynupdates ceo and ambassador are having a meeting

stylesbabie yeah. I'll be the one to start talking about his back, won't I?

⤷ harrysfan92 i mean, its right there

ynsmybestie taking care of business

——————————————————————————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2 002 202 others

pleasing Andy and Franny present you first three drawings that inspired Fancy Friends collection. Pieces are called respectfully: 'Mummy and Daddy', 'Daddy('s) house' and 'You and me'.

'Just, just tell them that they, they all can paint nails. It's funzy!' said Franny while incorporating her work.

Find Your Pleasing.

view all 83 302 comments

harrystyles yourinstagram I love your hand

⤷ yourinstagram it's called perspective

yourinstagram My two artists!!!

annetwist ❤️

hArrysbtch MoMA is waiting for them

harryupdates This. Is. Art.

ynupdates well hello you

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram and 10 302 202 others

harrystyles 'Daddy I did you on paper.'

view all 103 302 comments

yourinstagram 1:1 perfect drawing with full details

⤷ harrystyles Perfect.

hArrysbtch that's the same picture!

ynsmybestie these babies are spending days and night at that painting room

⤷ yourinstagram I wish. It was a 5 minute drawing cause 'i love daddy and kiwi'

⤷ ynsmybestie ohhhhhhh

ynsmymama melting

harrysfan82 this pleasing promotion is going HARD

⤷ harrysmoustache everything is sold out

⤷ hArrysbtch those babies are making more money than i do, man. that's unfair...

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 4 302 202 others

yourinstagram here's to the best father i know

(yes, i was terrified for the joints to stay in place. yes, babies found this as the best play in the world and repeated ten times. yes, his back looks gooood.)

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles That's a lot coming from the greatest mother in the World.

⤷ yourinstagram your mum is right there

⤷ harrystyles Obviously, you're sharing the No. 1

⤷ yourinstagram ObViOuSLy

hArrysbtch 'yes, his back looks gooood' girl, you don't need to shout it to our faces

⤷ yourinstagram HIS BACK LOOKS GOOD

⤷ ynsmybestie i love her

harrysmoustache still not used to the fact that he is a dad

harrysfan82 I've never asked: do your kids know you're the Disney Princess?

⤷ yourinstagram they watched Tangled and didn't notice even after my live performance

[nakedcleric]

♥ pairing: sero hanta x reader

♥ wc: 920

very short thirst but

tw: cuckoldry, manipulation, dubious consent, squirting, mysogyny, dacryphilia, reader has small tiddies, everyone is plus 20

Your boyfriend being unable to satisfy you sexually, so even though you strongly insist that you don't mind, he gaslights you to the point of convincing you to lay down and let someone else fuck you. Even though its truly more for him than you, he manages to manipulate you enough to think that this is all for you.

So he invites Sero.

Your childhood best friend. The one who would make it a point to be a clown in class so you would laugh and both get sent to detention. The one who gave you your first joint and layed down with you in the middle of the road while watching the stars. The one who offered you a shoulder to cry on when you first had your heart broken and who drove you to a Dairy Queen in the middle of snowstorm just so you could have a treat.

You expect the whole thing to be awkward, maybe even hilarious in hindsight, one of those half assed things that end up being interrupted since no one can really take it seriously.

Quite the opposite happens.

You don't recognize your childhood friend when he takes a long drag of his joint and nonchalantly plays with your nipples, looking down at you with a dark gaze full of lust.

"Can't believe you're letting me fuck your girl, Kei," he says, his voice deep and burnt. The whole time, he addressee you like a piece of meat your boyfriend is letting him use, like a pretty little doll he is going to have with, rather than his childhood best friend, which you are. Or maybe, thought you were.

You don't know who he is when he fingers you with the full force of his arm, making you squeal in pain and pleasure. He covers your mouth with his other hand before you can complain, chuckling about how fucking loud you are, about how you always needed a real man to tell you to shut the fuck up. You look at your boyfriend with fear in your eyes, but you just get pure contempt in return, and you realize you're alone.

He is just so fucking nasty with you. He touches you so shamelessly, squeezing and licking your tits and biting your nipples hard enough to make you cry. He laughs about how tiny your tits are, about how he always wanted to fuck them to see you struggle to keep his dick inbetween them. How he always wanted to suck on them through those tight shirts you'd wear, mocking you for thinking not wearing a bra was acceptable for you.

He spills every dark thought he has ever had, loving the way tears well up in your eyes at the pure humiliation. "She is pretending she doesn't enjoy it," he says, pulling his fingers out of you and showing the slickness inbetween them to your boyfriend, "but look at how wet she is."

As much as you hate to admit it, you haven't been this aroused since a long time ago. You hate the way you almost came from fingering, hate the way your cunt enjoyed his dirty talking, hate the way you want more.

Your boyfriend doesn't answer, instead just remaining on his seat, glaring at you, and you feel your heart and dignity shatter even more.

Sero pulls his cock out, long, thick and veiny, giving it a couple of strokes as he stares down at you with slightly bloodshot eyes, "Finally, huh?" He asks, mockingly.

Sero doesn't take his time with you like your boyfriend does. Since you're so tight, it always takes a few tries to Kei in, which he's kind enough to always be considerate of, but Sero isn't. He pushes his whole length inside you with no warning, making you scream in pain, "W-wait, it hurts, it hur-"

Sero interrupts you by kissing you passionately, the taste of weed and nicotine tickling your senses as he sucks on your tongue and drinks up every single one of your whines and moans. He fucks you fairly slowly at first, still bottoming out every time. He grits his teeth, as he wraps his finger around your throat and presses hard, frustrated by how tight you are.

The shame, guilt, arousal, everything, they break your mind until you can't think anymore. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, now trying to meet his hips with yours, fucked out eyes staring at your childhood best friend with too many emotions to calculate. He fucks you hard, making the bed shake like it has never shaken before, and all you can do is moan loudly as you let your best friend ravage you like he always wanted to.

Pressure builds inside you, and you realize this is the only time someone else is close to making you cum. You're scared, and horny, and can't see through the many tears overflowing your eyes.

You cum the hardest you ever have. A violent orgasm shakes your whole body up and down, the pleasure too much for you to handle. The knot inside you comes undone as the pressure pushes you to gush all over Sero's cock and toned abs. He grits his teeth, as he pulls out and starts jerking off at the incredible sight. He cums soon after you, painting your tits and stomach with white ropes, one, two, three times, as he moans through his orgasm.

The last thing you hear before passing out is the broken voice of your boyfriend,

"You...can squirt?"

[writingsofanomnivore]

Of Poems and Consoles-Kenma x Reader

for @dira333

Words:920

Warnings- none, domestic fluff. Gender neutral reader.

9:17 pm

The bed is made, the dishes are washed, leftovers in the fridge, the clothes are folded and kept, and the cat is fed. All done before 9:30, just like every day, and just like every day, today is another normal Thursday. You came back from work just before Kenma and started with dinner while he began folding the laundry. After having a quick dinner with some updates on the new clients and partners of Bouncing Ball Corp, and how Kuroo had brought his son (aka your godson), and how Kenma couldn’t help but feed into his pleas and bought him another bag (one could even call it a sack) of candies and chips from the office cafeteria. Funnily enough, he even pulled up a little picture of ‘Uncle Ken Ken’ drawn by the little Kuroo. You must get it framed now. Maybe even keep it in his cabin on one normal visit to surprise both godson and uncle duo.

And now, both of you are in your bedroom, a steaming cup of tea on your little writing table ahead of you while your husband sits leaning on the backrest to end the day with a few games. The book and pen on your table look up at you, waiting for the time you’d pick up the pen and write a line or two. However, on this very normal and usual day, you couldn’t get the words or themes for a good poem. You’ve always written poems to find a sort of solace, comfort, to understand yourself, and to maybe even let go of the past in a beautiful way, but now, there seems no need for it. You’ve got a partner who understands you without words, without actions, without having to utter a syllable. A part of you is convinced that Kenma is a secret author, maybe even a poet with how he can calm you down with a few words that can brighten your dullest days. Here he sat, little whines and sentences of: “Kuroo, don’t do that; we’ll lose the game.” “Shoyo, are you sure you’re on the right server?” “Yes, Bokuto-san, I can see your character doing a 'woah'.”

The quick clicks on his console add a perfect white noise. Maybe you could write about your daily routine and these little things that make it specifically yours.

“

-and now I retreat from my day’s chores, The house is neat, the door is closed. I lie in bed but not alone A piece of me, I’ve always known Lies in him who I call home.

A day so new lies ahead of me It’ll start the same and end with glee For there’ll be this face I’ll get to see.

“

As I close the book I can feel the bed shift on the other side. Sensing him keep his phone on the bedside table, I look up. Golden eyes stare at me expectantly, waiting for the old tradition of being the first and maybe only person to read any new poem. Though I knew this poem was not my best, not extravagant, not the perfect representation of the routine I strive for or the impact he has on my day, I gave it to him without budging.

His eyes scanned each and every word, my squiggly handwriting not making anything easier. Taking a pause before each stanza and he let his eyes wander the last stanza before finally looking up. I don’t know why, but those eyes held so much comfort, speaking volumes. Languages I’d never know, words which I wouldn’t be able to spell could never compare to the love I can see pooling up in him. A little smile slipped from his pink lips, which I couldn’t help but copy. “I’ll never understand how you write so well.” Though you know your little poems could never compare to the secret poet he is, you hummed, “I think you’re the one to be credited here. The person without whom my day is null. For whom my heart beats daily and whose company I look forward to every day.”

The old Kenma would have been a blushing mess. He would have probably forgotten how to speak and would definitely not have taken your ink-stained hands in his right now. But this Kenma is not the same. The past five years have shaped him and you into the people you are today. This Kenma has seen you write your poems and collect the ones as old as 10 years ago. This Kenma has grown out of his shell, accepted the fact that he is so much more than the brain of Nekoma, found his worth, and, most importantly, a partner to love who loves him just as much if not more.

So this Kenma took your right hand, bringing it to his lips and holding it tight. He gently rubbed at the little cut you got years ago, the bump on your finger you were always insecure about because it was a callus from holding a pen for more than 15 years. “I love you,” he said, as if a statement he earnestly believes in, the way children promise you something but you know this is much more than that. Much more than three simple words. It was a promise, a promise he keeps every day. Loving you and always loving you. So you repeated them back with a drunk smile, sleep clouding your vision as you tried to keep your eyes wide open; wishing this moment could last forever.

[galedekarios]

I let him hit it cause he says stuff like

"By Ahgharion's lost nose - no!"

thank you for your message!

that's definitely one of my favourite gale moments. it's very sweet.

it also led me down a rabbit hole to read more about who ahgharion is (i may have read abt him before, but not in depth) and what happened to his nose (lol); it was actually super interesting to find out more about him.

he was a human wizard and the first of open lord of waterdeep and lived a very long (he died at +300 years old) and eventful life, which was deeply intertwined with the city he lived in and helped shape:

"There shall come a time when our city and its deepwater bay shall grow in fame and fortune across many realms and many worlds. Folk shall know of Waterdeep, our City of Splendors, and sing its praises. I have seen it thus, and I endeavor to make it true." — Ahghairon, circa 1032 DR

Ahghairon was known by several names during his youth, but went by only his first name during his time in Waterdeep. Ahghairon was born on Midsummer's Night, in the Year of Great Riches, 920 DR. He was named after his great-grandfather. Legends say that the symbol of Mystra was glowing in the sky at the time. [x]

he's also remembered with a holiday in waterdeep:

(these are all from volo's waterdeep enchiridion.)

ahghairon also constructed his own wizard tower and it still stands within the city:

a large statue was built in his honour and it's located in the city of the dead in waterdeep:

Ahghairon's Statue was located in the central section of the City of the Dead near the entryway. Made completely from marble, the tall statue depicted a detailed representation of the bearded wizard Ahghairon as an old man in his prime. The smiling statue stood atop a series of concentric steps and faced west toward the entryway into the City of the Dead with hands outstretched. Torches lit the steps at night.

Ahghairon's Statue: This tall, marble sculpture is an incredibly lifelike sculpture of the bearded, robed mage in his prime (at a mere 70 winters). Ahghairon stands atop concentric steps, facing west with his hands outstretched to indicate the City of Waterdeep around him, and the statue has a smile on his face. The steps are lit by night with rows of torches, and are a favorite meeting-spot by day.

the statue is what is referenced in gale's tiefling party dialogue by the devs:

Gale: By Ahghairon's lost nose - no! devnote: This is a statue in Waterdeep's burial district

apparently the statue is missing its nose? i couldn't find the idiom anywhere else and nothing related to ahghairon himself, only this one here:

which i sort of referenced in my 'doth thy mirror crack' meta post.

anyhow, sorry for rambling. this got away from me. 🖤 i just really like the little pieces here and there that show gale's deep connection to waterdeep.

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 1

A/N: here we go mother fuckers, hope you are all buckled in and ready for this ride, it’s gonna be a wild one.

Summary: Joel hears your government name for the first time while you are waiting in line for your ration cards. He loves to get under your skin any moment he can. You give him hell for it.

~Word count: 920~

Warnings: a whole lot of swearing, Joel being mean, m/c not taking his shit. Mild violence (you hold a knife against his throat) sexual tension, mature themes (+18)

Song for this chapter: “Kiss With A Fist” by Florence + The Machine

___________

June 2020: Boston QZ

You were a ticking time bomb when it came to Joel Miller. He set you off over the littlest things and you weren’t even sure why you allowed him to get you so worked up. You hated the effect he had on you because it made you feel weak. You were not weak, not in the slightest and Joel never treated you any differently. Not when he was aware of your skills. Knives were your weapon of choice and he learned this quickly after you had thrown one at his head, grazing his eyebrow and leaving a permanent scar. From that day, he was impressed with your abilities and he liked the fact that you could handle your own.

He still found himself being protective over you despite this.

You were both in line to receive your rations for the day after working brutal hours. This was the first time you had worked a shift with Joel and you were already regretting it. He chose now out of all the hours you were together to give you shit.

“Hey darlin, think one of these days you can teach me how to throw a knife like that?” His voice was low against your ear as you stood in line for your rations.

“Not a fuckin chance in hell, Miller.” You shot back at him under your breath.

Your interaction caught the attention of a young Fedra soldier who gave you a look of disapproval. Like you gave a fuck about what some Fedra piece of shit thought of you.

“Careful darlin.” Joel drawled out. y’know how these fucks feel about language ‘round here.”

You knew he was toying with you as you chewed on the inside of your cheek then, feeling the bitter taste of copper on your tongue when you had bit down on the soft flesh a little too hard.

“Fuck you, Miller.” You whispered back.

Your government name was called out by the same Fedra soldier that gave you a look. “Gwendolyn Brooks.” He spoke in a monotone voice.

You took a small step forward then, snatching your ration cards from the soldier, looking him right in the eye. Despite your lack of height, you could be intimidating as hell, when it was necessary.

Stuffing your ration cards in your worn jacket pocket, you marched past Joel who stood there in disbelief. This was the first time he had heard your real name and after the tone you had previously taken up with him, there was no way he was gonna let you live this one down.

Snatching his rations cards in the same manner as you, he walked after you. Taking long strides to keep up with your quickness. “Your name is fucking Gwendolyn?” He mused, kicking at a stray piece of rubble beneath his worn boots. “Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn now what in the hell kinda name is—“

He was cut off by you shoving him back into an alley wall, knife drawn against his throat in a flash.

“Fucking say my name again Miller. Go on, see what the fuck happens next.” You spat out and lightly pressed the tip of the blade against his jugular to prove your point.

Joel held his arms up in defense then, a smirk slowly crawling onto his chapped lips. He could have turned the tables then, if he wanted to; and had you pinned, but he enjoyed seeing you get all worked up and flustered. It brought him pride knowing he had this effect on you.

“Easy now, doll. No reason to get so worked up.” He looked at you dead on as he spoke.

“If I were you, I’d lower that knife now, doll face. Don’t be stupid. Y’know how easy it would be for me to snap your neck? Takes seconds and then it’s lights fuckin out for you.”

You slowly lowered your weapon then. Your eyes never left his as you tucked it back into the holster around your waist before you had taken a step back from him. The close proximity was making your head spin and you needed to create that distance between you two quickly.

“Just as easy as it would be for me to slit your throat, Miller. Don’t ever fucking call me Gwendolyn again.” You spoke before turning on your heel and exiting the narrow alley.

Joel stayed flush against the wall for a moment then, catching his breath and muttering to himself about keeping his composure. He knew he was playing a dangerous game with you. Hell, he wasn’t even bothered by the fact that you had threatened him. In fact, it excited him to see you so feral. “Fuckin hell.” he muttered to himself as he pushed off the wall and followed after you once more.

“Won’t call you that again, doll. I promise. Nice to know that you have a real name after all. Never thought I’d get the joy of hearin it myself.” He spoke, a good foot behind you now.

“Were you expecting something a little more mainstream? Perhaps Jessica? Natalie? Rebecca?” You turned around slightly to look back at him as you spoke.

“Nope.”

“You don’t look like any of those. Not even close doll. Thank god honestly because there’s no way in hell I could be seen with a Jessica.” He chuckled then.

“Exactly. So you can call me doll, darlin or whatever the fuck else. Maybe one day you can call me Gwen but don’t get your hopes up.” You quipped back.

“We’ll see about that, doll face.” You could hear the smirk in his tone, every syllable he spoke sent your blood boiling.

“Game on, Miller. Game fuckin on.” You muttered to yourself as you started the trek back to his and Tess’s apartment; the sun brutally beat down on your backs. One thing was certain, June was a mother fucker and so was Joel Miller.

CHAPTER 2 :

[drgenius-reid]

War and Peace, and Coffee

A/N: It's down to the wire but I just about managed to get something together for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute Challenge. Summary: Spencer finds himself meeting a lovely stranger in a coffee shop where they read together. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader  Category: Fluff Content Warnings: Use of Y/N. Word Count: 920

Spencer didn’t think he had ever seen someone more beautiful in his life. Even as she sat in the corner of the coffee shop, curled up on a chair with a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose, she looked adorable as she succumbed to the words in front of her. 

She read 1984 by George Orwell. Spencer could tell what book it was just from seeing a tiny piece of the cover that poked through her fingers. He noted how delicately she was holding the book, being careful as to not ruin the spine of it. 

On the small table in front of her, Spencer could see an untouched cup of coffee, a bookmark with a quote that he couldn’t figure out from where he stood, and a banana peel on a plate. He was intrigued by her. Even though he didn’t know why. 

The woman looked up from her book before Spencer could look away. Their eyes met and Spencer’s cheeks grew warm, embarrassment flooding over him at being caught watching her. He tipped his head forward towards her when she smiled softly at him, her eyes wandering back to the words that had pilfered her attention. 

Spencer walked up to the counter at the front of the coffee shop and ordered himself a black coffee with plenty of sugar, and an orange, paying for them before he headed to the bottom of the shop where a tall shelf sat, completely filled with books. He grabbed a copy of War and Peace and took a seat at the table next to the woman’s. 

‘You know you can always take the spare seat at this table,’ she said softly. 

Spencer looked to his right to see the woman now holding her cup of coffee, hands wrapped around it securely. Her glasses were back on her nose properly and her book rested on the table near her knee. 

‘I wouldn’t want to ruin your reading time,’ Spencer smiled. ‘Thank you though.’ 

The woman let out a small chuckle before motioning her head towards the door. ‘See that woman who just walked in? That’s Margaret. She is about to order herself a port of tea and a slice of cake. You, my friend, are sitting in Margaret’s seat and trust me, you don’t want to be there when she gets here. She will either flirt with you until you leave to try and get away from her, or she will pick you apart.’ 

‘And what if I’m into older women?’ Spencer challenged the woman, who threw her head back in laughter. 

‘I promise you, if you want to read your book and actually enjoy it, you’d be better coming to sit here with me.’ 

When Spencer saw the older lady ordering the exact thing he was told that she would, he moved his things across to the next table as quickly as he could, sitting down just in time. His new table mate picked her book back up to continue reading. 

‘Nice choice of literature you have there.’ 

The woman smiled at Spencer as she shrugged lightly. ‘The best books are those that tell you what you know already.’ 

‘But one must know that there was truth and there was untruth, and if you clung to the truth even against the whole world, you were not mad.’ Spencer smiled at the woman who looked at him in disbelief. 

‘You’re an Orwell fan?’ 

‘More like a literature fan. I’ve read this book multiple times already,’ Spencer said as he lifted the book into the air slightly. 

‘Quote it,’ the woman challenged, placing her bookmark back into the book so that she could put her attention on him fully. 

Spencer took a deep breath and looked at her, trying to hide the smile that wanted to spread across his face. ‘Yes, love, but not the love that loves for something, to gain something, or because of something, but that love that I felt for the first time, when dying, when I saw my enemy and yet loved him. 

‘I knew that feeling of love which is the essence of the soul, for which no object is needed. And I know that blissful feeling now too. To love one’s neighbours; to love one’s enemies. To love everything - tol;ove God in all His manifestations. 

‘Someone dear to one can be loved with human love; but an enemy can only be loved with divine love. And that was why I felt such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What happened to him? Is he alive? Loving with human love, one may pass from love to hatred; but divine love cannot change. 

‘Nothing, not even death, can shatter it. It is the very nature of the soul. And how many people I have hated in my life. And of all people none I have loved and hated more than her. If it were only possible for me to see her once more.’ 

Spencer trailed off. The woman was staring at him, mouth agape. It was a look that would normally make him extremely uncomfortable but with her, it didn’t.  

‘I’m floored,’ she said finally. ‘War and Peace was the first book I read for my undergrad and I remember reading that passage for the first time. It really made me think about the nuances of love and what it means to love everyone. I’m Y/N, by the way.’ 

‘Spencer.’ 

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Spencer.’ 

‘And you, Y/N.’ 

[gaoau]

儉

uncarved wood warnings — none. word count — 920

prev. — next.

it's coincidental, truly. Xiao swears he didn't mean to make eye contact. the moment he steps foot in Wangshu Inn's kitchen, his attention drifts to the side briefly. he recognizes [Name] immediately, mainly because they're the last person he's expecting to see chatting Smiley Yanxiao up while he cooks. he sees the way their face lights up with a bright grin in the millisecond it takes him to look away. he's come here for one thing and one thing only, and that's a single serving of almond tofu.

as soon as he orders his food, [Name] bounds up to his side. they smile at him with a warm gesture. "hi, hello," they greet him, their voice shaking with a small giggle. they clear their throat almost nervously. "thanks again for saving me."

again? not to say he doesn't appreciate it, but one thanks is already a lot. he looks at them curiously (although his expression remains as passive as ever). "i've already told you that's not necessary."

without missing a beat, [Name] chuckles and shakes their head. "nah, it's not enough." they dig their hand into their satchel and pull out a new bird statue.

Xiao blinks down at their hands as they present him with this new gift. it's made with a different type of wood, lighter in color, allowing the natural chatoyancy of its pattern to glisten in the light with a charm only human hands can achieve. it looks beautiful—a different type of beautiful than the broken, jagged one they'd offered up when they met. this one is complete and carefully crafted. the smoothness of its corners, the details in the feathers, the varnish shining in the light. it feels loved and cared for. Xiao thinks it's worth much more than striking down a measly abyss mage.

considering they've already done this once, [Name] thinks they shouldn't be as nervous about his seemingly endless silence. they clear their throat and smile amicably, inching the bird closer to him. "i was hoping i'd see you again so i could give you something a bit more worthy."

"worthy, you say?" he takes a moment to ponder over their words.

his eyes find theirs in a studious stare. the world stops turning. [Name] feels a cold chill running down their spine, golden eyes burning like embers through them. it's a little intimidating, as if he were about to snap their neck, but they would rather die than look away. his eyes are hypnotically entrancing, reflecting unique shapes in his irises every time he blinks, those they could never hope to find in any piece of wood they chisel through. nature is truly beautiful in Liyue.

"i don't believe anything i do is worth cutting a tree down."

his voice snaps them out of their trance. "oh, no! this was a small log i got from a fallen tree in Yashiori Island." they keep details out, like how valued otogi wood is due to its difficult harvest, worth much more than a thanks in monetary terms. they chuckle, "i've been carrying it around uncarved for so long that i thought i'd might as well use it now. i wouldn't want it to go to waste. nature doesn't waste anything, and neither should i."

it would go to waste in his hands. Xiao fears it will rot in his hands. "i'm grateful, but i cannot accept this. one is enough already." the illuminated existence of an adeptus with the destructive nature of karmic debt on his fingertips, all-consuming.

[Name] raises a brow, their head tilting as they look at him, confused. a faint chuckle slips from their tongue, "it's never enough thanks. neither giving nor taking, so please, don't think you don't deserve this small token."

"my job is to eliminate the demons and protect this nation."

"ah… you've centered your life around your battles?"

he almost recoils.

they give him a nonchalant shrug. "then, thank you for becoming this land's protector, and for protecting me despite not belonging here." with a warm simper, they present the wooden statue one more time, stepping closer.

it's strange; this is the second time he feels like he can't argue. "well. i suppose i'll take it." he hesitates only slightly, but he ultimately accepts the carved bird with a nod of his head.

just as his fingers brush over their skin, the kitchen staff call out that his order is ready to go. [Name]'s shoulders jolt in realization. "oh, sorry, i'll shut up now. bye-bye!" they giggle as they offer him a small wave.

Xiao watches them head back to Smiley Yanxiao, striking up a new conversation instantly. with a quiet thanks, he grabs his plate of almond tofu and disappears back up to the top of the tree.

it's simple, truly. he sets the statue down in front of him as he settles down to eat. with varnished, beady eyes, it looks back at him and it seems almost alive. [Name] words ring in his head, because he has centered his life around his battles and it has defined who he is. a weapon with no desires; a man who indulges in tofu, for better or for worse. he thinks this new statue will find a home next to the previous one. nature doesn't waste anything, after all.

[xxsycamore]

Catboy!Mozart headcanons

╰┈➤ 😼 What if Mozart was a catboy? Meowzart, if you will?

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart x MC • rating:G • wordcount: 920 • masterlist

a/n: First it was Nyapoleon and now I'm presenting you with... Meowzart. Thank you TheCarmineWanker on AO3 for proposing this idea, hope you enjoy!

When Mozart took his chance at afterlife, accepting the offer of the mysterious gentleman standing at his deathbed, he had no idea he'll be incarnated as a vampire… much less as a catboy vampire. He blames it on his own strange antics during his former life.

Strangely enough, Mozart feels at home in his new body. After all, he's always had that catboy in himself. Back in the day, despite being a member of the elite society of his time, he couldn't help his bursts of quirkiness when bored, and could be seen leaping over tables and chairs… He hopes noone would remember him for that.

The first thing he does upon waking up in the 19th century in the mansion of Comte de Saint-Germain is to… look for a mirror. Not just to observe the curios new attributes of what once was a human body, but to groom himself. It comes so naturally to him that he cannot find peace until he's thoroughly taken care of himself.

The pristine white fur on his cat ears and tail is short, but much like his human hair, it tends to get a little wild unless groomed and kept in order. The first request he extends towards the master of the house is not for enhancements of the piano room, but rather for top-quality hairbrushes and toilette products.

It's such a burden, to be reborn with the intention to devote yet another lifetime to music yet to still face obstacles in the way. Not that he can complain much. Having a near-immortal form that needs less sleep is a delight, if the price he has to pay is distracting himself for a portion of rouge every now and then, then so be it. But god, his catboy genes. They're a gift and a curse.

For one, he finds it harder to fight boredom. Which is funny because that's exactly how this side of himself manifested back in the day, when he reached his relatively low threshold of boredom.

Much like how cats need constant entertainment, Mozart needs something besides music in order for his brain to produce dopamine. He's never been the kind to move around much, and would prefer it if he never has to leave the mansion at all. Especially not via carriage. He claws at the carriage doors when someone tries to put him in one.

But catboy Mozart gets the zoomies every now and then, and he can't do anything about it. It often happens at night. It starts with the strange urge to trash his hand along the row of piano keys, pressing them in a random, chaotic order, creating a godawful cacophony of noises.

It feels good to do that. He has no explanation for it. It'd normally feel like nails on a chalkboard for him, yet bringing disorder after hours and hours of precise work feels so refreshing to him.

Then he exits the piano room to exhaust his pent-up energy elsewhere. He runs in the halls. Jumps over the long dining table and various other pieces of furniture. Thank god everyone else is fast asleep. Or are they?

He's a clean freak, so he cleans after himself. It's just a part of his routine at this point. He feels equal parts of satisfaction wreaking havoc and then bringing order afterwards.

As for the positive aspects of having this new form, Mozart is astonished to find his hearing greatly enhanced. He hears everything. It's all a musician like him can ask for.

You know how Mozart becomes chatty and giggly when he's drunk? It's only worse if we're talking about a drunk catboy Mozart.

He meows at people. Loudly. You can't have a normal conversation with him; to every question, he'll tilt his head with a curious "miau". The others are forced to meow back in some dire attempt to communicate with him to get down from the chandelier.

Upon the arrival of MC in the mansion, Mozart doesn't play around showing his "beast" side to her, being more than sure that she won't be able to put up with him. Her futile efforts at making friends with him are laughable and she needs to know exactly who she's trying to domesticate. He warns her about getting her face clawed at if she enters his room at the wrong time.

Despite the bumpy start, she naturally doesn't give up trying to get closer to him… until her patience and genuine care pass the test of time and acquaintanceship blooms into love.

Mozart becomes more willing to be himself infront of her, and in turn, MC helps him out by keeping him company when he gets the zoomies. She practically plays with him, makes sure he's not breaking any expensive mansion relics, chases after him and gets chased by him…

MC notices how important is for Mozart to be well-groomed, and begins to frequently brush his hair and cat ears for him.

The first time Mozart's tongue swaps across her cheek, it's shocking for both parties. For Mozart because he didn't even realize he's doing it, and for MC because it hits her what a special brand of affection this equals to.

MC gifts him a collar with a little bell on it, a very elegant one. She knows Mozart's love for certain noises, and he truly falls inlove with it - though he makes it clear that he'll only wear it in front of her. He might be a catboy but he's a catboy with dignity.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[reigningqueenofwords]

Perfection

Word count: 920 Request: @awesomerextyphoon request Hello! I love your work! Could you do a mobster chubby!bucky × baker!reader where he's known for his ruthlessness and his near saiyan level of appetite? He's scared or simply shut down other bakeries/restaurants for their alleged lackluster quality/quantity of their goods, but reader is able to go above and beyond with her frit and wit which impresses him and maybe something more. Thanks in advance!

Read on AO3

Part 1 of Dark Chocolate

You were putting some new cakes into the display when you heard the door. “I’ll be right with you!” You called out, not looking up. You took pride in how you displayed your creations. After another moment, you felt it was good enough and stood up straight. Shutting the case, you turned and your smile faltered. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Can I help you?” You asked, knowing exactly who you were looking at. Bucky Barnes. Notorious mobster who had ran other bakers out of the city. You’d known some of those bakers pretty well, and had been sad when they told you that they were forced to close. You wondered when he would make his way to your place. 

“I’m looking for something dark chocolate, and with a strawberry creme.” He smirked. “I need it in an hour.” 

You thought to what you had in back already. “Okay.” You agreed. 

He raised an eyebrow. “You can do that?” He asked, moving closer. 

You nodded. “I can.” You wouldn’t fold and let him shut you down just like that. 

“I’ll be waiting.” He moved to sit at one of the little tables. He watched you moved to the display case and take out a cupcake before bringing it to him. “What’s this?” 

“For your wait.” You told him. “It’s a plum spiced cupcake. Enjoy.” You said before heading to the back. 

Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued. He looked over the cupcake before taking a bite. Licking his lips, he let out a small groan.

After forty five minutes, you came back out with a box for him. He’d seen you now and then in that time helping other customers. “So, what am I getting?” He asked, as you set it on the table. 

You opened the box. “It’s a personal two layer dark chocolate cake. There’s a strawberry creme filling, a dark chocolate drizzle, topped with whipped cream and strawberries.” You showed him. 

He did have to admit that it looked delicious. “You know how perfect this has to be, right?” He asked, looking at you. You didn’t seem to back down or get ‘weak’ around him. 

“Oh, I know it’s perfect.” You hand one hand on your hip, leaning on the back of the chair that was across from him. “I’m conifdent in my work. I won’t serve anything that’s not perfect. How was your cupcake?” You asked. 

Bucky licked his lips, not missing how your eyes went to his mouth as he did. “Delicious.” He got up. “If you nailed this cake, you’ll be getting an order in for this weekend.” He closed the box. 

You were wiping down a counter when a tall blonde guy came in, catching your attention. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m here to put in an order for this weekend.” He told you, holding up a piece of paper that was folded in half. “For Barnes.” 

“Ah.” You nodded, feeling a bit proud. Going over to him, you reached for the paper. “Does he know that I ask for partial payment up front?” You asked. 

He looked you over. “I’m to pay in full. Up front.” He told you, noting the look of surprise on your face. He handed over the order, watching as you looked it over. “Think you can manage that, or will that be too difficult?” 

You smirked at him. “Think little old me can’t handle some cakes, cupcakes, and cookies? Please. It’s called multitasking.” You motioned for him to follow you to the register to get things rung in and paid for. “Will I be delivering this, or will it be for pickup?” You asked. 

“Delivery.” He said simply, giving you the address when you asked for it. “He’s expecting you to stay, too.” 

You sighed. Of course he did. You’d have one of your workers come in for some extra hours to run the place that day.

Bucky was looking forward to seeing you that Sunday, curious to see if your two other creations had been lucky flukes. If everything you brought that day was good, he’d be a regular at your bakery. He looked over when he heard the front doors to his club to see you carrying a flat box. “You’ve got muscle men around here somewhere, can I put them to use for all this stuff you ordered?” You asked when you spotted him. 

He chuckled. “How do you know I have muscle men around here?” He asked, moving to show you where to put the box down. 

“Well, judging by the blonde guy that put the order in…” You mused. “Then again, if he’s here, he looks like he could easily carry things for me.” You noted. “Either way, I’m not carrying that big cake all by myself. Took me and two of my employees to get it into the van.” You motioned to the door. “Or I mean, since I’m staying, you could eat it out of the van…no promises that it won’t get kinda melty in the heat.” 

“I’ll get my guys.” He grinned. “This is where you’ll be working. Party starts in an hour, gives you time to make things look good.” 

“I appreciate that. I like making things look as good as they taste.” 

“No wonder you caught my eye.” He winked, surprising you. “Because I am sure you taste as good as you look.” Bucky smirked at the blush on your cheeks as he went to get his guys. He’d certainly be keeping you around.