Twas tagged by @bucketking for the one line WIP thing and I have never really done these things but I shall try and post a snippet.
This is... technically the last full writing I worked on that is actual writing and not disconnected note taking XD
Waxer bumped Boil behind one of the many staircases and gave a titled helmeted gaze. “Because, this planet isn’t the right biome at all. Any animal listed or scanned doesn’t fit the makeup, and that isn’t to mention the plants seem sentient enough to kill him if he tried to eat them.”
“Then why is he here Waxer?”
“I don’t know Boil,” the clone finally snapped, and Obi-Wan felt a bit more heat in his tone, ears flattening slightly. “Maybe someone abandoned him here even. Maybe he was doing little bunny prayers to the Force that someone would save him, maybe he isn’t a rabbit at all but someone crazy shapeshifter that could eat you whole in your sleep!”
As he finished his small, absurd growing rant, Waxer thrust Obi-Wan right into Boil’s face, and Obi-Wan insticly sniffed the plastoid curiously, then nibbled at the edge of it in his sudden confusion on what was happening now.
Which he was shocked to find suddenly sent Boil into a fit of honest to goodness giggles. His teeth had clicked along the edge where visor met plastoid, and the soft crickly and wiggling of his nose struck something in the clone suddenly. This in turn had some equal affect on Waxer, who had watched Obi-Wan’s tail flick in excitement at the laughter and was suddenly lost to it as well.
It continued to descend, Obi-Wan flicking his head back and worth with mounting glee. He had never heard them laugh so easily, and he was immediately driven to try and cause more joy, any panic he had at his predicament lost.
Maybe being a… a rabbit wasn’t all bad, for a little bit.
Yes, it is Obi-Bun. Yes, I have actually written for this story. No, I have no idea where it will go or when there will be more, but I am sure I will let you all know heh
Also never know how to tag people and everyone I can immediately think of has already done this, so if you wish to do it, you are very welcome to tag me cause I would love to see ya snippets and lines :)
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A River of Honey
Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader
Synopsis: Navigating through life with your husband and son who both seemed to have developed an appetite for something only you can provide.
Warning: breastfeeding, mild lactation kink, innuendos
Word Count: 1142
With the two of you being forced into a marriage you did not want, it was difficult to coexist with each other, let alone initiate anything between you. Your two-year marriage did end up with you having an 8-month old son as Gojō is only a man, ever so vulnerable to the natural charm of a woman. But aside from sharing a child, you have nothing else that binds you to each other.
But lately, his crystalline blue eyes have been wandering to your ample bosom much too often.
Being in the Gojō estate house, you had to follow a few rules.
One is that you are never allowed to speak ill of your husband and your family.
You must not meet any man unaccompanied.
Entering the council hall is strictly forbidden.
Your hair must be in a specific bun, adorned with ornaments to symbolize status.
And lastly, you must follow the traditional dress code.
Most of the time, you wore kimonos, all having the colors of the Gojō banners. It was their way of branding you as theirs. And your husband did not like that. But you, well it always reminded you of his eyes so you cannot bring yourself to complain.
During the course of your pregnancy, your husband protested about making you wear heavy fabric when it was too hot. They did not relent.
So, your husband took it upon himself to rid your closet with the intricate kimonos and obi. He threw them all in the cold of the night through your window, and shot a blast of cursed energy on the pile just for good measure.
From then on, your kimonos were lighter. You did not have to wear multiple layers. And even after you gave birth, the clan decided not to test their luck and just let you wear whatever is comfortable for you. After all, you gifted the family a promising heir. One that looked exactly like the master of the house, an exact replica of his father.
Gojō leaned on a tree in your garden one day, his legs stretched out in front of him. He was watching you as you sat by the pond with your little boy on your lap, pointing at the koi fish that swam by.
“No.” He hears you chuckle. “We don’t eat them.”
As Gojō expected, a tiny frown forms on your son’s face the moment you said ‘no’, his lips wobbling and he turns to his father as if silently asking for rescue.
You sigh as you stand up. “Wanna come to dada?” Upon hearing this, your son hesitates and his tiny fists tighten on your sleeves. But before he can protest, you drop his bum on Gojō’s lap.
“Hey there, bud.” Gojō grins but the little boy doesn’t respond to him as his eyes remain trained on you as you sit next to your husband and pick up the book you brought with you earlier.
A poke to your son’s cheek finally made him look at his father, with a slightly irritated look in addition to his in-distressed expression.
“Mama’s not upset.” Gojō says as he smoothens the hair of the child. “She’s only teasing.”
Your son thinks for a moment and slumps on his father’s chest, his cheeks squished as he looks at your face. Waiting for you to confirm it. But you pretend not to hear as you turn the page on your book. You’re not going to tolerate this attitude, you don’t need two spoiled Gojōs.
“Lighten up, Satoshi. We’ll get you a non-koi fish to eat later.” Gojō tried again, his grin widening every moment.
But Satoshi scowls at his father and shook his head.
“Oh? You don’t want to eat fish anymore?”
His son shook his head once more.
“What do you want to eat then?” Gojō scratched his head. “Want some taiyaki?”
Satoshi glares at his father. “No!”
Gojō’s eyebrows rise slowly. “Come again?”
A red hue appears on Satoshi’s nose and judging by the large gulp of air he took, a wail is most certainly coming.
“MAMA!” He bawls, his hands outstretched to you as large tears spill to his cheeks.
Gojō grimaces, quickly handing you your son. “Alright go to mama.”
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh as you drop your book to the side to cradle your baby. He buries his face to your chest, soaking your kimono. You rub his back in a soothing manner.
“What a crybaby.” Gojō laughs, making his son glare at him behind his tears.
“Don’t listen to dada.” You smile while smooching Satoshi’s chubby cheek. “Stop crying now, I’ll ask them to make you something good to eat, okay?”
Satoshi looks at you with apprehension.
“What?” You smile sweetly.
He looks away from you and his tiny baby hands play with your kimono making you laugh.
“You have to talk, Satoshi.” You say even though you know what he’s doing.
“Milk mama.” He mumbles while he fiddles with his fingers.
After looking around your garden and not seeing anyone, you shift your kimono to the side and unbutton your nursing bra showing your lush breast and still puffy nipple. Satoshi latches instantly. His eyes become droopy almost immediately, breastfeeding is becoming a swift sleep inducer to him.
You turn to your unusually quiet husband and see just in time how he stared at your bosom with his pupils dilating as he swallowed audibly. Warmth ran through your body and you looked away quickly, pretending that you saw none of it.
“That’s really convenient huh.” He spoke, his voice a few timbres deeper. “You just unbutton and your teat is out.”
“Mhm.” You hum as you play with a lint on your lap.
Gojō wets his lips and he tries to look away but his eyes often wander to you every now and then. You see his leg bouncing slightly in a steady motion. And his hand raked his hair way too much that it started sticking out to multiple angles.
“I should put Satoshi back in his room.” You say softly after you unlatched your son and tidied your clothes.
Gojō is quick to stand and offer his hand to you. “I’ll come too.”
You thanked him and walked side by side with him. He doesn’t tolerate you walking behind him.
You smiled at him gratefully as he opened the door to Satoshi’s room and placed the pillows around your son’s crib. Gojō pretends to look interested in a furby, as your neckline dips while putting your son down. His heart softened when you smoothed his hair as you whispered, “I love you”.
He guided you out of the room and you are about to head back to your garden when his arm finds your waist and you are being led to your bedroom instead.
“My turn now, mama.”
Where the Blue Roses Grow
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