Peaceful Nights On The Polar Tang 💛

zoro x gn!reader // sfw

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 drifts in and out of consciousness, the netting of the hammock molding into his back. your weight atop his chest is a comfortable one, one of his hands splayed over your hip and toying with the patch of skin exposed by your lifted shirt.

there’s nothing better than this- him, you, and the open sea.

he hears it all, the distant clamor of the crew, their steps along the deck, maybe the clinking of utensils in the kitchen, but he drowns it out. you, it’s all you, your soft breaths and the occasional yawn you give- it makes him drowsy.

his wado pushes against a wooden beam, a constant movement that keeps the hammock rocking. the rhythm isn’t allowed to be disturbed, not on his watch, even if it means sacrificing the sleep he cherishes so much.

he knows his swords are capable of utter destruction. he’s ended lives with them, they’ve seen countless bodies- they should be permanently colored crimson. stained crimson.

yet, right now, his sheathed blade serves only to maintain the gentle swaying of the hammock.

you stir, stretch your limbs, reaching for his arm in a bid to get him to lower his wado. “jus’ go to sleep, ‘zo. don’t need you to keep rocking it.”

“eh? m’fine,” he reassures, a bit husky, his warrior mind fighting off the sleep like nothing.

his palm moves from your hip, instead covering your eyes as if willing you back into an unconscious state. he yawns, his canines on display, before sighing. “you sleep first, got it?”

More 1870s Cowboy!Ghost, I saw someone cosplaying his gunslinger skin and lost my mind just a little

Life is quiet here. The sky is wide and blue, the grass is just on the yellow side of green, and the women are as pretty as they are quick with a gun. Well, just the one. Ghost swings off his horse to lead her the rest of the way to the barn. 

“Hey, pretty boy!” You call from the back door, “Come have a drink when you finish up.” He’s still not used to the way your smile makes his heart jump. The genuine fondness behind it. Pretty boy. He wouldn’t let anyone else get away with calling him that, just you. You get away with a lot of things.

Most recently it’s been this. A spare drink to drown out the still uncaught bounty. Never mind that he’s hardly trying anymore. There’s hardly time for it with all the work you have him doing. Work he hardly minds when it’s you asking for it. He likes the animals, likes the warm soil of the garden, likes looking over his shoulder to see you going about your own work. Shaking out sheets as you take them off the line or twisting ripe squash from the vine, the way you brush your hand up the back of your neck to wipe away the sheen of sweat, you’re gorgeous. Ghost’s never seen anyone like you. 

He takes his time unburdening his horse, putting away tack, checking her stall has food and water. Steeling his nerves. It’s becoming harder and harder to ignore your sweet talk. Eventually he’ll find himself stuck in your honey. Then he can’t say what will happen. Maybe you’ll keep him.

Ghost touches the worn cotton of his mask; thinks of the scars under it, the scars under his skin. Maybe not. 

You’re waiting by the back door when he finally makes his way back to the house. You offer a short glass of clear liquor. “You’ll get him tomorrow,” You tell him. Ghost can’t tell if you’re joking or serious. Your usual good humor makes it hard to gauge. 

He pushes his mask up to his nose and takes the offered glass, clinking it against yours. You both tip your head backs, let the alcohol slide down your throats. Ghost sniffs, clears his throat against the residual burn. He checks his glass to be sure he got it all, and looks up to catch you staring at him.

“I got something on my face?” He jokes, voice flat as he wipes the wet edge of alcohol off his lip with his thumb. 

“No it’s just,” you tilt your head with a smile, “Every time I see you like this I can’t help wanting to kiss you.” Ghost stills, you’re forward but not this forward. “That’s probably silly of me,” your smile falls a little, and he can’t have that. He can’t have you losing hope, losing interest. You’re not supposed to be interested in the first place, but- but he wants you to keep it. Wants you to keep sweet talking him. You can’t give up and let him win. Not when he wants so badly to lose to you.

Ghost grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you to him, leaning down to bring your mouths crashing together. He catches a bit of your smile before you can pucker, a little bit of teeth before he kisses you properly. It's not a perfect first kiss, but it is perfect. You're perfect, so warm and sweet and soft. God you're so soft, how can anyone be this soft? Your lips cushion his and your warmth surrounds him in a way that can't just be physical. You part your lips, draw him in for another kiss and another, a slow slick glide of indulgence. His hand cradles your cheek, and it isn't the last drops of tequila he's savoring when you draw back. Stars, your smile could stop his heart. It nearly does.

Ghost tugs his mask back down over his lips to stop himself from kissing you again. Is he supposed to feel so, so giddy just from kissing someone? He can't push down the smile that bubbles up. Another good reason for the mask. 

"I should-" you take a step back, make a noncommittal gesture with your hands. Ghost nods.

"Right, and I should-" he waves towards the barn, both of you smiling like fools for each other.

"Ok," even your voice is soft, so soft. He should kiss you again, he can still feel your lips against his.

"Supper," Ghost tells you, confirms with you. You nod, grip your skirt with giddy fingers.

"Six o'clock," God he wouldn't miss it for the world.

wassup one piece fandom

so if the dream smp is just a hamilton roleplay and wilburs washington (?), tommys hamilton, and tubbo has recently been kin assigned hercules mulligan, wouldn't that make techno lafayette ???

brother number 3!

Thinking about how One Piece is a Chosen One story where the audience is aware of the protagonist’s destiny and worldly importance long before he is. And not because it’s the first episode/season and we know a chosen one story when we see one. But because even though the protagonist isn’t all that interested in fate and power and battles between good and evil the story still follows him taking steps to become a figure of grand world importance of his own accord and for his own reasons.

He’s not becoming a chosen one because someone told him he’s the chosen one with a grand destiny he must fulfill. He’s just doing what he wants to do and if destiny says that’s what he does then it just makes sense because it’s what he already wanted to do.

this was so adorable i love them so much

Do any of you guys like One Piece? Because I’ve been itching to write about Zoro, man is finer than fine

Welp I’m gonna give it a true XD