#and i’m SICK of being REMINDED OF IT (affectionate. mostly)

[bikananjarrus]

starlight beacon is the order 66 of the high republic

[soviet-siscon]

my mom is like, super duper sweet, idk if you remember me but i was the “i missed you today cuz you slept in” anon

just this weekend we went on a trip, mostly paid for by a conference she was going to, so she brought me as emotional support (p.s this is important to me cuz i have a little brother and he wasn’t picked!!!)

she’s pretty much as accepting as parents go- she was 19 and my father 18 when i was born, and shes only going to finish college in a couple weeks, so we practically grew up together lol

she’s cool with me being a transsexual, she knows i diy and has no issues with it (nurse too, so i was super surprised), and actively tells me “you need to stop using the men’s restroom” LOL

tbf, i’ve been passing a lot more lately, even in an (if weak) boymode i still either don’t get gendered or ppl use the correct words, which is sick! but here’s the meat of the story i think

it feels like the more i pass, the closer me and my mom get, which seems to entail being touchy

she says i “need to get out of the house more, [im] so ditzy”, so whenever i’m not doing what i’m meant to, she’ll spin me by my shoulders or tug me by my waist, which is… epic :)

she also calls me her little duckling when i follow her around when we’re out and about cuz idk where we’re going

okay side note- im mostly straight, but my little brother (about a year younger) is EVIL!! the MOMENT i got home, i was greeting my dog, and he decided to throw candy at me, too which i said “don’t throw stuff at me please.” when i didn’t catch it he said “well you’re great at catching”

“you threw it three feet in front of me”

“well you had a dog in your lap”

“that’s why i told you not to throw it period”

i forget the rest but it ended with him calling me a stupid bitch and me running off to my room yelling that he can’t even be nice to me after not having seen me for four days

death to little brothers, viva la mother!

putting aside the like 5 identical asks, I do remember! you're this one right?

the magical power of teen parents! that's super cute that she's very affectionate with you. "[her] little duckling" is adorable. congrats on being womanhandled by your mum, you're living the dream. (totally not jealous not even slightly)

I'm glad you have a bright future ahead of you as your mums little emotional support duckling (I'm also glad she's very accepting of you, that's sweet)

your brother sucks and vaguely reminds me of my own (sigh). The fact you felt the need to preface complaining about him with "I'm mostly straight" is funny as hell. It's good that you're seeing the beautiful redeeming light of your own mother :) that's my primary mission.

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

Because of generational divides/distance in our culture, grandma doesn’t even feel like the right word to encapsulate her relationship to me. I saw her all the time growing up. She gave me truly unconditional love. She could be my confidant when I was having any problem. She gave me so much support and affection, which was so vital to my well-being, as I did not grow up in a particularly affectionate or supportive household. Her apartment was a place where I could let go of the breath I was holding.

Her life was hard, she was a very young single mom, mostly worked waiting tables and bartending. She got sick with lupus in her 20s, and eventually had to go on disability. I’m not quite sure when, but I remember that we shared a bedroom for a bit when she was sick and I was 5 or 6. She was only 8 years older than I am now when I was born, when I made her a grandma. She had a lot of chronic pain and had to do a lot of hard work in her life, I know she struggled with depression sometimes. She also was just so down to have fun and be goofy. She loved kids so much and they loved her. She tapped into that playful mode so easily. The playfulness wasn’t a mask either, it often felt like she was the only person in my life who discussed feelings openly and honestly, even the ones that suck. She was exactly who I needed.

She used to say that she was haunted by the spirit of her dad, but that she liked it and it helped her feel less alone, and that she would haunt me too. And I used to be like “no please do not haunt me!! That’s too spooky!” And she would say “well what if I don’t do anything, and I just watch?” And I was like “nope!! Still too spooky!”

I was able to give her permission to haunt me today. I get it now. I would love to hear from her. I would love to be reminded of her. Please come swing my cupboard doors open.

[archandshri]

22nd March ‘24 - [arch] Mad About Munch, Warm-up sketches and daaarknesss???

Good evening, Shri! I forgot that it is Friday, but at the beginning of writing this, I have an hour and 27 minutes until Friday is over, so I WILL be on time!

Wow, like a lot has happened? But I also don’t have tons to show for it. (it’s because I’m working on cool secret project that I’m not allowed to talk about which is fun!)

Stuff i have been doing

Museums :0!!!! I have been travelling and in my old age apparently, I like old art now???

Gathering a lot of reference images - photos, but also general inspiration

Finally organising my digital space a bit! I backed up like 3 years' worth of Procreate images and cleared out half my iPad

Getting some of my sketchbooks, especially comic development, digitised and onto Google Slides! I follow a similar process to when I was at uni still, with a huge PowerPoint for a project that contains reference images, inspiration, plot bullet points, and links to google docs where I write the scripts, development sketches and finals. It makes it super easy to go back to important parts of the development and be reminded of things I might have lost in the development process

Warm-up sketches because you bullied me into it (affectionate)

Continuing to explore colour

2 things I would like to tell you more about: 1) Edvard Munch!!!!!! If you ever get the chance to visit the Munch Museum in Oslo, do it!! I hadn’t seen a whole museum dedicated to one guy before, but seeing so much of his work in one place, in person really helped me understand it better. They also had a fantastic audio tour to rent that made it super accessible. I had just come from thinking about colour last week and becoming more comfortable with darker colours, and I had been thinking about personality and narrative in settings and backgrounds - both of which he does really well. In particular, The Sick Child, Eye in Eye, and The Sun stood out to me.

2) Play. AGAIN!!!!! I feel like I’m constantly having to fight myself, reminding myself to let go, play around, and explore without the expectation of a final outcome. You told me to try some 20 min warm-up and cool-down sketches - which I’ve been doing and has been going great! They’re not all perfect and aren’t supposed to be, but I’ve also had some really fun outcomes that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. I also feel like I’m getting more of a grip on colour :0

Plus, I’ve found that I haven’t wanted to post my terrible sketches or even my better ones?? Which has been nice to make without the need for sharing. However, I have found myself craving a final image to share with all of Tumblr and Instagram, thinking of possible images that would do well on those platforms. I think there is a small part of me that wants to create those because it would be fun, but I think it’s mostly to fix the number-shaped hole :/ Hank Green made a good video which mentioned the fact that platforms are EXTRA BAD with teaching creators to be addicted to them, even more so than consumers. Video here. It’s good.

I was listening to the Imp and Skizz podcast earlier (Episode - Rendog pt 1), it’s a great podcast, they chat about Hermitcraft a bit but mostly about what being alive is like and being a creator, I really recommend them too. Anyway, Skizz said he was once told to ‘create videos that he wanted to watch.’ And I think it’s a good approach to have when creating. What do I wanna see/ read?

I would love to chat to you about the balance between dark tones and silliness in storytelling too, but it is 11pm and I do have to get up early tomorrow. Plus, I’m not sure I have enough thoughts yet. But for now, it’s left me thinking: what do I want to make? Am I campable of silliness in stories? I want to tell stories with an undertone of darkness, that discusses difficult themes, but how to we do that while keeping it entertaining and not just Too Much(™)?

I dunno, just thoughts I’ve been having. I wanna get them down, even if I don’t have any solutions yet. In the meantime, please accept these sketchbook pages in lieu of philosophical answers. 

Thank you for listening to my rambles once again!

Love <3 Archie

Ps. I saw Frozen the musical and it was Very Sibling, and I cried. It made me think of you and I think you would like it (it’s only a bit different to the film but it makes such a difference omg)

[superbattrash]

Sometimes I wonder how I became so obsessed with being competitive about the stupidest things. Who slept the least, who ate the slowest, who had it worse — things I’m actively changing as I get older because it’s just unhealthy and stupid to think those things are things you can or should want to “win”

Then I sat in the car with my mother today and I told her I was tired because I’d been up since 4am to go to work and before I could get to my point (that it was nice to see her (a white lie to be nice) but that I wouldn’t wanna come back to the house because I’m already tired) she interrupted me and said “I got up at 6. And yesterday I got up at 5:30. And I have to get up super early tomorrow because [ridiculous reason that she chose herself]”

I physically felt myself want to say “well I get up early every day!!” because that’s the response she’s taught me. Always have it worse than everybody else or you’re not allowed to speak about things you find difficult/tiring. You’re not allowed space (a whole other issue I was taught as a child) but if you want it, it has to be because you have it the worst but you’re being so brave (read: whiny) about it

And once again I am reminded that my parents should never have had children. Because these things - being worth nothing if you’re not sick or feeling awful in some way (but without ever saying you feel bad, because then you’re just being pathetic), not being allowed to take up space, to make any noise, to express yourself in any way that isn’t sitting still and being quiet out of sight - are insane to enforce on your child. On your children, because I remind you that these people made 4 babies. 4. It’s not just me. There are 3 other idiots (mostly affectionate) who suffer with not wanting to take up space and who think they have to compete in “who has it worse” competitions daily

And how the hell do I unlearn these things when they’re shoved in my face every time I see this woman or any of my siblings?

[sodamnbored]

Fuck it. It’s a fic now:

“Quit moping,” said Will, with a lopsided smile as he prodded at Nico’s shoulder.

“’M not moping,” muttered Nico grumpily. He was curled on his side on his bed, hugging his pillow tight to his chest, looking all pathetic and heart sick. He buried his face a little further into the pillow at Will’s prodding.

Will raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Nico was definitely moping. He’d been moping for days. It happened occasionally and Will was beginning to get used to the routine. Really, Nico had been sulking ever since Jason had moved halfway across the country to go to school. He would be jealous if he didn’t know that Jason (as stupidly good looking as he was) was totally harmless. As far as Will could tell, Nico and Jason had more or less adopted each other as brothers on their quest. He honestly found the whole thing super cute. Nico rarely, if ever, got all whiny and needy like this about anything. It was sweet seeing his clingier side and nice that Nico had somebody he was comfortable needing things from so openly. It was a different kind of affection than he had with Will. And that was okay.

Nico’s moods tended to come in waves, depending on how long it had been since the last time he’d heard from Jason. He could be adorably needy with a select few. Will felt privileged to be one of them, so he couldn’t really deny Jason the same honour. Mostly Will just tried to poke fun about Nico’s sulking and try to draw him out of hiding to join in activities around camp, remind him that he had other friends, and take his mind off the one he was missing. If Nico resisted having fun, he’d nag Nico into coming to help out in the infirmary instead. Sometimes he was successful. But often Nico would just mill around the infirmary, morosely counting plasters instead of sulking in his cabin waiting for a call – which was a bit of a downer, but still adorable as hell.

Regardless of how stubborn Nico wanted to be, Will always wore him down eventually; coaxing him outside to act like a person again. Nico tended to miss Jason less when he was surrounded by other people and had other fun things to occupy his attention. The best distraction was always when Hazel came to visit – that always perked Nico right up. Unfortunately, what with her promotion to Praetor, she had less time to visit these days. Nico didn’t hesitate to remind him of that fact – in the most pathetic and dramatic way possible – after he’d listed her with all the people who’d want to see him out and about for activities.

“I can’t do activities with Hazel when she isn’t here, Will,” muttered Nico snidely, with an almighty eyeroll. “She’s too busy being Praetor now.”

“You say that like it’s a personal slight against you,” said Will, amusement creeping into his smile. He held out his hands, motioning for Nico to get up.

“Is it not?” mumbled Nico petulantly, hunkering down stubbornly and squeezing his pillow tighter to himself. He sighed dramatically. “She’s left me. All alone in the world. Abandoned by all.”

Will attempted to take him by the hands and pull him to his feet, but Nico didn’t seem in any mood to uncurl from around his pillow. He resisted half-heartedly as Will fought to take him from under the arms; ready to drag him off the bed if he had to.

“I’m still here, you know,” pointed out Will, feigning indignation.

Nico huffed affectionately as Will dragged his shoulders over the edge of the mattress, not bothering to help at all. He craned his neck around and flashed a small grin up at Will. “Yeah, but you can hardly bear to be five feet from me, so I’m not worried about you going anywhere any time soon.”

“I’m beginning to feel awfully taken for granted here.”

Will wrestled him a little further off the bed, grunting at the dead weight as Nico went limp in a last-ditch effort to resist getting up. Nico clicked his tongue teasingly.

“Well that’s your fault for making yourself too available to me.” Nico reached up to pat Will’s cheek. “Gotta play hard to get sometimes, William.”

Will snorted at the advice, even as he felt the familiar flutter in his stomach whenever Nico teased him. He never should have let Leo teach him how to flirt. With a final tug he dragged Nico off the bed, save for his ankles. He promptly dropped Nico’s dead weight in response to Nico’s advice. Nico yelped in surprise and hit the floor with a heavy thud. He lay on the ground, still loosely clutching his pillow to his chest and blinked up at Will stunned.

“You dropped me,” said Nico blankly.

“You were heavy,” nodded Will in agreement.

“I can’t believe you dropped me.”

“I can’t believe how heavy you are.”

Nico made a sound of mild indignation but made no effort to get up from the floor. He clicked his feet together idly up on the edge of the bed. Will leaned over him with an encouraging smile.

“Now that you’re up – sort of – how about we go outside and get some fresh air, hm?” he suggested brightly, offering Nico a hand up once again.

Nico turned his face away with a muted groan of displeasure, wrinkling his nose at the idea of fresh air.

“It’ll be fun,” tried Will, wiggling his fingers at Nico invitingly. “We can go on the climbing wall.”

Nico groaned a little longer.

“We could go out on the lake?”

Nico groaned a little louder.

“We could spar, if you really want to,” conceded Will graciously.

Nico groaned his dissent again, kicking his heel into the bed to punctuate his disinterest. Will exhaled, blowing his bangs out of his face with a great deal of patience. He straightened up, putting his hands on his hips and nudged Nico’s shoulder insistently with his foot.

“Well, what do you wanna do then?”

Nico rolled his head to the other side, away from Will’s foot. Dark eyes peered out at him accusingly from under his bangs. “I wanted to stay in bed.”

Will sighed, shrugged, and held out his palms. He knew a losing argument when he saw one. Time to stop arguing.

“This is ridiculous. I’m just taking you outside now.”

“What - ?” began Nico, squawking when Will stooped low, seized him around the middle, and in one fluid motion hefted him up and over his shoulders.

Nico made every attempt to wriggle free and kicked his feet, making protests about kidnapping, but Will had him held fast over his shoulders and there was nothing he could do. He’d even lost his pillow in the skirmish. Nico went limp in defeat, hanging over Will’s shoulders like a wet towel. He lamented about the unfairness of being forced to have fun with his boyfriend as Will carefully wriggled them through the doorway and carried him into camp.

Will volunteered them for Austin’s volleyball team, playing against Kayla’s down on the beach. Nico was not very active to say the least. They quit. They tried rock climbing next. Nico stepped onto the first footholds but couldn’t find it in himself to pull himself up any further than that. He simply stood pressed against the wall, barely a foot off the ground, sighing wearily. They quit that too. Will took him strawberry picking and Nico managed to half-heartedly wrestle about one strawberry off the bush every five full minutes, sighing dramatically the whole time. When he wasn’t sighing, he was asking what Will thought Jason might be doing just then. Will refrained from giving his reflexive response of ‘I don’t know, but I bet he’s having more fun than us.’

Will was glad for the respite when he called time for lunch, planning to regroup and come up with a new activity for them to try that might cheer Nico up a little. Nico slumped onto his hand sullenly, poking disinterestedly at his food. When it was their turn at the fire, Nico scraped his offering off his plate and into the flames before asking, “Do you think Jason still makes offerings when he eats at school?”

Will was struck by the absurd image of Jason starting a little fire in a wastepaper basket and dropping a pork chop into it while the rest of the school stared at him across their fancy-ass dining hall.

Slightly fed up and running out of options, Will dragged Nico towards the big house after lunch, intending to continue their computer lessons. Nico wrinkled his nose.

“Urgh, technology,” he grumbled in disgust.

Will laughed, squeezing Nico's hand affectionately as he pulled the son of Hades along behind him. “Come on, Gramps. If you’re gonna live in our time, you need to know how to use a computer.”

It’s really too long to post here, so cont. on Ao3

Nico, over Iris message: So how is school? Do you hate it yet? Are you coming back soon?

Jason, laughing: I actually really like it, it’s so different from New Rome and Camp Half-Blood.

Nico, vaguely disappointed: That’s good.

Jason: More importantly, how’re you? What have you been up to lately?

Nico, shrugging: Will showed me how to do more things on the computer in the big house.

Jason, encouragingly: That sounds fun.

Nico: I visited you on Google Maps.

Jason, fighting his smile: That’s actually very sweet. Thank you.

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao: Fainting HCS

FUCK. I FORGOT TO POST THIS EARLIER. AHHHH. I HAVE WORK IN LIKE 2 MINUTES SO I’LL BE BACK TO REPLY TO EVERYONE. 

Hey anon! So sorry it took me forever to finish writing this but good luck if you’re planning on pulling Xiao. I really wanted to finish writing this fic as an offering to the gacha gods that c1 xiao wants to bless me (even tho that’s not gonna happen). But good luck to everyone rolling today^^.

Disclaimer: I have not watch anything about Xiao because my hype can only take so much. This was written before 1.3. So if I get anything wrong or I’m missing something. That’s why.

---

Can I just say how far Xiao has come in my writing since the first part of the semi series? Sniff, feel like we’re making character development for a character that’s not even out yet. I can’t wait for mihoyo to take my HCS and rip them apart.

Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ String Of Fate (Soulmate) ]

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

​  @hanniejji​@mikeysbike​​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​​ @snowy224 @mayumintsu​ @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​ @legionqueensav​ @eva-0403 @youaskedfurret​ 

Xiao: Fainting HCS

Instant panic mode engaged. If you’ve ever doubted his adepti power of swiftness you’re about to be mistaken. He’s noticed that you seem a bit out of it but brushed it off as you being tired from your recent journey. If there was anything bothering you, you would tell him. But as he turned around to greet you back, it seems like time is slowing down for him. He sees how your eyes glazed over and become unfocused. The muscles in your body snap and you drop to the ground. He can feel his blood run cold as past memories that have been waiting to jump at him suddenly claw at him but he doesn’t even register them. He’s already running towards you.

He’s already caught you in his arms before you can even meet the wooden floor. His brain is racing as he quickly checks your pulse to make sure you didn’t suffer from a heart attack or a curse. He makes a quick search over your body to check for any injuries, he can already feel the red hot iron of anger fill his system at the thought of someone trying to take advantage of you or threaten you. He’s usually logical in these types of situations, even the death of Rex Lapis didn’t shock him this much, but he’s been battling his conflicting feelings ever since he met you. But now that he’s finally accepted you and himself, he wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you. His mind flashes to Guizhong before he shakes away the thought.

It doesn’t occur to him that you might be sick as he tries to shake you awake. Whatever teachings Guizhong and Morax have taught him fly out the window as he holds you so close to his chest, he’s pretty sure his grip on you is bruising. He knew mortal souls weren’t as strong as adepti and staying around one might cause sickness or even worse- death. Was this his fault? He can feel the drop in his stomach as he tries to reign in his emotions and powers, not here.

Verr almost screams when Xiao breaks the wooden ceilings and lands in front of her. She’s scared that there was a monster outbreak or something was wrong with Xiao before she notices your passed out form in his arms. As much as she likes to joke around and thinks your relationship with Xiao is cute, she knows that if anything came to seriously harm you she wouldn’t able to calm Xiao before he goes on a rampage. You mean so much to him and he hasn’t opened his heart to anyone except you.

She can tell he’s nearly past his breaking point as he looks at her with dilated eyes as he asks, no commands, her to help you. It’s such whiplash to her. Xiao’s always been polite and reserved that she almost forgets he used to be a demon slaying Yaksha, but this isn’t the time for her to worry about that. She quickly leads him to the backroom since there’s no way Xiao wouldn’t bite any hand that comes near you. Bless Verr’s heart since this isn’t the first time she’s had to handle Xiao’s outbreaks that she manages to save face and contact a doctor that was staying at the inn to look at you. She does feel a bit bad for the doctor who looks like he’s about to piss himself in fear as Xiao growls and watches the doctors every move with piercing yellow eyes.

Xiao is still wary when the doctor and Verr try to calm him down and examine you more closely, always flinching back whenever their hands get too close to you, letting out a dangerous hiss whenever there’s the slightest twitch of discomfort in your face when the doctor feels your heated forehead. As soon as the doctor concludes that you’ve been sick for the past few days and your body just needs to heal itself and recharge, the tension on Xiao’s shoulder loosens and the suffocating aura that’s been filling the room slowly filters out. Verr can’t help but sigh in relief but can’t bring herself to scold Xiao for breaking the inns roof as she watches him look over your form with worried eyes as he softly nudges your cheek. He’s still holding you but his grip has loosen slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief as he rubs small circles in your hand. Xiao’s never been the most affectionate or shown to be the most caring but you’ve seriously scared him. She quietly leaves him be and closes the door as she begins to prepare to fix the damages.

Xiao never leaves your side as he waits for you to wake up. He can’t help but berate himself for not confronting you. The doctor said you would be fine but he can’t but imagine your body falling in a more violent scene. He quickly shakes those thoughts away as he paces around the room, sits besides you, then goes back to pacing. Usually he would go on a walk or beat his aggression out but he doesn’t want to leave you alone should you awake early.

Xiao doesn’t ramble about his day while you’re asleep, instead he just observes your features and the small movements you make to remind him that you’re okay. How your chest moves up and down as you breath or how your eyes sometimes scrunch in sleep. You’ve made him almost trip when you did it the first time since he thought you were waking up. He can’t help but think back to his fellow Yaksha’s and what they would say if they saw the way he was acting now.

Since his panic attack has mostly subsided he’s found himself growing more curious. He’s still worried about you but he’s managed to reason with himself that you’re okay, just sick which he’s going to scold you a bit for when you awake, so he softly brushes his fingers across your face. Before snatching his hand away in embarrassment. What the hell is he doing? Guizhong would slap him sideways if she saw him now. He huffs at himself as he deflates a little and rests his head on the bed beside your head. He’s patient. He will wait when your ready to wake up.

When you suddenly gain consciousness, it feels as if the entire world is weighing you down. You slowly blink open your eyes to see a worried Xiao hovering over you, his hands awkwardly in the air since he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch you.

“How are you feeling?” Xiao asks as his eyes dart all over the place before resting on your face. You’re still a bit out of it but you can tell he must have been really worried. You try to give him a small smile but with how scuffy you feel you can bet it’s not a pretty picture.

“Like I got slammed with one of Zhongli’s meteors,” you tried to laughed before coughing as Xiao quickly pressed a cup of water to your lips. Slowly letting you drink and calm down. 

“If you have time to make jokes then you’re alright” Xiao sighs before his features change slightly. His eyes glaze over in concern as a small frown appears. He really does look like a kicked kitten as he slumps over as the stress finally lifts as he feels your hand softly run through his hair.

“Sorry,” you say, he must have been so stressed out while you were passed out for him to look so exhausted. He simply nudges into your hand before turning his face to kiss your palm,

“There’s no need for apologies. I’m...just glad you’re okay,” Xiao mumbles before he’s back to pressing his head into your stomach. You can’t help but smile delicately as you reach over and bring Xiao up with you until he’s lying over you as you hug him gently. There’s a bit of shuffling before you’re able to spoon him as he let’s himself relax after the two day panic attack he just went through.

---

When you’ve fully recovered Xiao seems to hover around you a bit more. Well not a bit, a lot more, but no one has the heart to tell him that. It’s actually kind of adorable seeing the aloof and reserved adepti seem to follow you around like a loss duckling. Making sure you’re okay and you’re not overworking yourself. He still keeps his tough demeanor but you seriously gave him a big scare.

When Zhongli and Childe come over for their weekly visits of tea, they were aware that Xiao had locked himself in a room to watch over you and anyone that even stepped near the door would be skewered with a spear - and Verr would make them pay for the damages (Zhongli) and whatever consequences Xiao saw fit (Childe) - but they are happy to see you’re okay. You all fall back into your usual rhythm of conversation or Childe trying to get a rise out of Xiao while you and Zhongli talk about how lovely the weather’s been.

Zhongli let’s you in on some details that Xiao or Verr never mentioned while Childe and Xiao are fighting about who knows what. How Xiao wouldn’t leave your side or that he resembled a kicked kitten as he nudged your hand when he thought no one was looking. He offers you some medicine herbs to help with exhaustion and to take care of yourself. Likewise, to give Xiao some pain medication on his behalf. You’re one of the few good things in Xiao’s life and he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.

---

Hmm. I didn’t mean to but I totally believe in the dad zhongli train and I think Zhongli basically just gave you his blessing? Maybe I’m thinking too hard on this haha.

Maybe this is better? Trying to figure out writing styles are hard. Either way, I’m never gonna end up kicking my paragraph HCS habit haha. If you couldn’t tell, I really like feral protective but lowkey vulnerable types (coughrazorcough). Xiao is so OOC at this point I don’t even know how to fix it. Please come home Xiao. 

(Edit: FUCK YEAH HE CAME HOME WITH DILUC. WE 90ED THIS BITCH AND IM ABOUT TO MAX HIS TALENTS. ILL SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL (since people have been asking) WHEN I GET BACK FROM WORK)

[blkbonnet]

God, I really hope Stede is a giggly and affectionate drunk. Imagine a missing season one scene with him getting a little tipsy after a successful jam session, or whatever it is they’re all doing together as a crew, and joyfully kissing Ed on his cheek. Because Ed would not know what to do. (Well, he might know what he wants to do but what he’s actually going to do about it is another thing entirely.)

Part of me wants Stede to wake up the next day in horror as the memory comes flooding back. I’m talking mortification on the highest level. He’s already planning an extravagant twenty- no, forty! orange glaze apology cake before he’s even got his slippers on. (Because what else could possibly warrant such a cake. I mean, really Stede. Really.) 

But mostly I want him to awaken unnaturally refreshed (what hangover?) and have completely forgotten the innocent kiss, so he can’t understand why Ed is simultaneously staring and avoiding him. Whatever the reason though, it seems to have righted itself by the evening. So Stede thinks nothing more of it. 

Ed does nothing but think about it. He’s still thinking about it the next time they get back from a raid and Stede gleefully reaches for the rum over dinner in celebration. He panics and snatches the bottle off him, only pausing for a second before downing the entire thing. It definitely solves that problem but as the alcohol hits his system he slowly realises he’s created a whole host of brand new ones. 

Despite years of experience, Ed isn’t doing well. He reminds seated and silent, hoping no one will realise his predicament. He’s got a reputation to uphold after all. He’s fucking Blackbeard, mate. He can handle his rum! What he doesn’t take into consideration is Stede. Stede who can absolutely tell something is wrong and spends the rest of the evening glued to his side. Which is about all he remembers. Although he’s fairly sure there was a storm. The ship was tilting unbelievably. It makes him think about where he’s going to sleep. On deck might not be an option in this weather… 

“You wouldn’t even get into a hammock in this state, let alone stay in one. You can have my bed tonight. I insist.” 

The whimper that escapes him at that is worth dying over. Maybe he should take that hammock. He’d roll out of it in this storm for sure but maybe it’s best if he goes overboard. He’s never recovering from this. 

“No one’s going overboard, Ed. Not on my watch. Now here, hold on.” 

That’s all the warning he gets before Stede hauls him up and carries him toward his quarters. Ed wants to demand to be put down. He can walk! He’s… someone! He’s someone and he can walk! However, as he’s poking Stede’s arm to plead his case, he gets distracted by said arm and starts touching it in awe. He might even giggle a bit but he’s not sure everything that he’s saying inside is staying inside anymore. So you can’t prove anything. 

Before he knows it, he’s being dropped onto something soft. Soft like Stede’s robes. Stede. As the arm around him starts to retreat, he instinctively grabs hold of it and pulls it towards him. There’s an umph followed by a sudden weight on top of him and then he’s slung a leg over it without a second thought. ’Tis comfy, smells good. Soft too. It’s staying.

Ed is asleep within seconds, seemingly content now he’s snuggled up to Stede. Stede, who is rather confused but decides it’s better if he stays close by anyway, you know. Just in case he needs him in the night. He might need water. He could get sick! Yes, he thinks he’ll stay.

[spooki-ghoztzz]

doing this ask on anon TwT but can i request yandere! Cesar (Mandela Catalogue) that's really clingy and affectionate even if he's an alternate? i also propose purring alternates hcs bc i found it once and it never left my brain since that point

(psst- if you name your anons, can i be 🐱🍏 anon?)

( i can do that for you and ofc you can be 🐱🍏 anon! also purring alternates hc my beloved,,, also i’m sorry if anythings wrong in this (mostly lore) cuz jfc i can’t understand half of it,,)

the type of yandere depends on which cesar we focus on.

alt!cesar is more possessive and straight forward,pushing himself on you and making you fall for him meanwhile normal cesar is more of the stalker and manipulator type. but the two just have the same goal in mind,making you their bride.

so,normal cesar would start off with simple stalking and taking the things you leave behind. he’d even take it to the extent of digging things out of your garbage to keep and take home. whenever he does get the courage to speak to you he’d fake being a sweet and nice guy,just wanting to be friends..for now. he’d then force himself on you to make you love him but sadly..he never did get to live out his sick fantasies with you before dying.

now alt!cesar is a whole new breed,,,he’d just come into your home and say ‘we’re dating now and if you say no i can easily slit your throat and we don’t want that,do we?’ like oml he’s a little shit-

he’d force himself on you like i said. it could be cuddling,kissing..he’d make sure you have stockholm syndrome even if you’re free to leave but he does follow you around. only at night of course since he trusts you enough during the day.

if it gets to the point where you finally see him as your boyfriend he’d adore and i mean adore cuddling with you. even in that suit of his he’s still very comfortable..and yes he does purr. by that i mean he purrs a lot to the point where it might get annoying,he purrs anytime you’re around.

he’d remind you your his but not in a harsh way,it’s always soft kisses followed with tiny ‘your mine’s and such but you think nothing of it..it’s cesar,he wouldn’t hurt a fly!

speaking of that..yes he will kill for you- if a another man(or woman,,) talks to you he already knows who his necvictimom is going to be.

but really,alt! cesar isn’t..the most ideal man to be with especially if you take it up to the notch of “yandere” scales. he’d be a man who will do anything to get his s/o and won’t stop till he does.

[citrinesparkles]

patience, love.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 1317 words. notes: okay. maybe this got a little out of hand. maybe a simple idea grew legs and ran right out of my grasp. maybe i got carried away. i can admit that that may have happened here. (4 times he didn't say i love you. 1 time he did.) warnings: food, patching up wounds, bad self doubt. angst in the beginning.

♡ "i love you," you were warm and content from dinner, and the words slipped from your mouth and over his counter before you could stop them.

not because there was any doubt in your mind- there wasn't, at this point, you knew you loved him like you knew the sky was blue- but because you were afraid of how much doubt was in his.

but maybe that was why you said it.

the doubt in his eyes now, wide and almost fearful as he stared at you, felt like a punch in the gut.

"is that okay?" you asked over the sound of the forgotten faucet and steady drip drip drip off of the scrub brush frozen in his hand.

"you shouldn't." he croaked it out, voice scratchy and weak, viciously tearing his gaze down from your eyes.

you opened your mouth, protests on the tip of your tongue, but he only shook his head.

"please. just... not tonight."

♡ you found him on your balcony, leaning against the railing and staring at the horizon.

the sunset painted the sky pink and purple and red, vivid colors washing over him and catching in his hair and highlighting the scars visible around his t-shirt.

"whatcha need?" he asked gently, acknowledging your presence without looking back.

"you." it was the truth, even if you said it with a playful grin. he healed something in your chest, soothed every break and wound on your heart, quieted the noise in your mind.

a small huff of laughter escaped him, floating into the evening air, as pink and warm and beautiful as the sky. "you have me."

"good." you dropped your head against the doorframe, letting your features relax into a gooey, affectionate smile as you watched his hair shift in the breeze. "love you."

he tensed for a few moments, and you took a deep, silent breath to push your own nerves back down.

it was hard.

a not-so-small part of you hissed that you would scare him off, chase him away by admitting the depth of your feelings again. that despite him being by your side through thick and thin, your love of all things might be the final straw.

he did push back from the railing, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach.

but instead of brushing past you and walking out the door, his hands found your shoulder and your hip and delicately, slowly, cautiously pulled you to his chest.

when you almost immediately melted against him and tucked your chin into his shoulder, his arms slid around your back and held you as close as possible. held you as though you were the most important thing in the world.

he couldn't say it yet, but maybe this was his way of saying it anyway.

♡ "i'm heading out, jase." you leaned over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek. "be good, okay? love you."

he hummed, eyes trained carefully on the tv. "just be safe. and don't forget you're out of pickles."

♡ it had been a very, very long day.

you were very, very tired.

and, as shuffling into a freshly cleaned apartment that smelled like your favorite meal reminded you, very, very attached to jason todd.

you stood silently for a moment, taking note of what all had been swept or dusted or vacuumed, how the blanket you'd left haphazardly on the couch was now folded neatly, and the old lopsided chair you kept meaning to fix was now sitting at attention.

just- seriously, this man was going to be the death of you.

you set your stuff in the corner by the door, neatly kicked your shoes off against the wall, and followed your nose into the kitchen.

his back was to you. he was swaying gently to the jazz playing in the background, hands busy in front of him, and he looked relaxed and happy and the domesticity- the simplicity- of it all was enough to make tears prick at your eyes.

(maybe the ache in your head and feet and- well, okay, all of you- had something to do with that, but he was much nicer to think about.)

"the chair, huh?" you greatly enjoyed the way his motion stuttered for the briefest of moments at the sound of your voice. "you get sick of looking at it?"

he turned to face you, his brow furrowed and cheeks dusted with pink. "i- maybe. maybe a little."

"dinner, too, huh? what'd you do, break something?"

"what? no, i didn't- i'm just-" he stopped, eyes narrowing at you. "you're messing with me."

"maybe. maybe a little."

he groaned, turning back to the counter and grumbling playfully. "i try to be nice and this is the thanks i get."

you chuckled, moving forward to slip your arms around his torso and lean into his back. "sorry, sorry."

"no no, by all means, keep making fun of me. i know it's your favorite hobby."

"i'd make fun of you less if you weren't so cute when you get all pouty about it, y'know."

"i do not get all-" another groan escaped him, and he dropped his head forward into his hands. "would you please just go get into some pajamas so we can eat? stop trying to give me a migraine?"

your laughter was muffled slightly by his t-shirt. "fine." you reluctantly pulled away from the most comfortable moment of your entire day and headed towards the doorway, pausing for a moment just inside of it. "hey, jay?"

he dragged his hands down his face dramatically, looking over his fingers at you. "hm?"

"i love you too."

the soft smile he gave you was worth every single minute of frustration and exhaustion that had led up to it. "yeah, yeah, get out of my kitchen already."

"it's my apartment-"

"gooooo."

♡ your bathroom was bright, cold, and smelled like hydrogen peroxide and blood.

his blood, mostly, but you really didn't think he'd take well to being asked for details just yet.

plus, you weren't totally sure you wanted to know.

regardless of where it came from, the truth was the red liquid had soaked through his shirt and coated his gloves and you were pretty sure some had gotten on your cheek, somehow, before you'd managed to get him cleaned up and bandaged.

now, he rested on the edge of the wet tub and let you gently work a towel through his freshly washed hair that smelled like your shampoo.

you could feel his eyes on you as you stepped back to grab a comb.

"hey, baby?"

stepping back into his space, you hummed in acknowledgement.

"i..." he cleared his throat, inhaling sharply. "i love you."

you froze, eyes snapping down to find his trained carefully on the ground in between the two of you.

you could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders, the way his hands were gripping the wall of the tub. the way he was avoiding your gaze like it would burn him.

"i love you too." you knelt down in front of him, fingers tracing his cheek and jaw and falling to where his neck met his shoulder, gently hovering over his pulse. "you know you don't have to say it, right?"

he nodded sharply, slowly softening under your touch. finally meeting your eyes. "i want to. you deserve to hear it. you deserve a lot more than that."

"you deserve to be comfortable, jason."

a small heh escaped him. "i don't know if i deserve it, but if there's one thing you do, it's make me comfortable."

"good. that's more important to me than hearing you say a few words, okay?"

"okay." he leaned forwards, dropping his forehead against yours and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, cradling it against his collarbone. "as long as you... as long as you know."

"i know, handsome, i promise."

[godwrecks]

𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗮

𝗣𝘁. 𝟮 - 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗪𝗮𝗻𝘁

word count: 4.1k

tags; college au. angst. confession. fwb. drugs. fluff if you squint.

The first thing you registered was the light buzzing - no, vibrating of Suna’s phone. Much too dazed by your sleep, you didn’t wonder who was blowing up his messages this late at night. Raising up the sheets to shield your naked body from the cold, you tried to get some sleep, but Suna’s incessant tossing kept you from doing so.

You finally turned to him, eyes squinting at his illuminated face. “Why the fuck is your screen so bright?” You groaned and nuzzled into his chest, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. He merely chuckled, quickly putting away the phone.

“Why so cranky, you just woke up,” despite speaking in hushed sentences, his voice still dripped with mocking. Suna placed his hand on your hip, and though it remained in its station for a few seconds, he soon started trailing his fingers along your waistline.

“Can you even call it waking up? I didn’t sleep at all,” he cocked his head at that, bringing you in closer to him. “I guess I’m at fault for that.”

You smiled quietly, clearing your head as much as possible to get a wink of sleep, though you knew he’d be up and going soon. It had been a few weeks since the...incident, if that’s what you could call it. Nothing changed, really, for better or for worse. Sometimes he was more careful around you, but your relationship was only good for sex. That’s what you had to remind yourself, right? But everything remaining the same was what bugged you. You knew better than to demand more because this was never meant to go past fuck buddies. And while he started coming to you slightly less high, sometimes even seemingly sober, you knew better than to get your hopes up.

With your head like this on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. Steady. Steady, while yours seemed to always mess up and skip around him. And yet with the slow rhythm of his heart, of his breathing, you surrendered to sleep.

When you woke up again, the sunlight was already rudely peeping past your curtains, and the other side of the bed was empty. Still adjusting to the light, you looked around the room slowly, filled with a strange relief when you found Suna dressing up.

“Practice?” You rubbed your eyes carefully, putting on a hoodie and wobbling when you stood up to reach him. He smiled arrogantly as he ran a hand through his hair, proud of the mess he made of you.

“Yeah. I gotta stop to get something on the way, so I’m heading out now.” His voice was still raspy from sleeping, some of his locks awkwardly falling over his eyes.

Though you wanted to smile at the sight, you knew he was talking about his plug and picking up shit from him. It wasn’t that you judged him for smoking - if that had been your preference, you would’ve known better than to get involved. You and Suna started out as friends, and you had been good friends for a long time at that. Some of the boys on the team always smoked together, and you almost always happened to be there with a few other girls, sometimes even taking a hit you’d be offered. Some of those girls were flings you’d never see again, others were girlfriends. But you were just a friend at the time, not thinking much of the tall and laid-back middle blocker.

“Will you be there tonight? For the party, I mean,” he spoke casually, sitting down on sheets that now smelled like him. “I’m not too sure. I have an assignment due, and I have to be up early tomorrow,” he nodded from his place, tying his boots. You hadn’t been going to many parties lately. The semester nearly ending meant your workload was accumulating, which also meant seeing Suna less. It was at parties and gatherings that you really got to see him, anyway - he was always busy with volleyball and zooted out of his mind most nights he was free. Your thoughts were abruptly cut when you felt his lips press against your forehead, finding an apologetic smile when you looked up.

“You’re starting to bore me,” he joked, but it still made your smile falter. You wanted to give yourself a good slap; since when had you become such a crybaby?

“I’m gonna go now, don’t miss me too much,” Suna stood in the door, offering a charming wink.

“Bye, loser,” you smiled back before shutting the door right in his face.

You had tuned into your laptop to absorb every piece of information from the lecture, or at least try to, as you sat in the library. A quick glance at the clock told you it was nearly midnight. Surprisingly, the library was open all night for students to study - go figure, maybe they guessed most procrastinate until the night thereof. You were taking a few sips from your drink when your phone lit up for an incoming call.

“Rin?” You spoke quietly, not bothering to decipher what the background noise was on his end.

“Baby! You picked up,” his voice was lighter than usual, a mixture of sweetness and relaxation. Suna was the type to become touchy when he was intoxicated, whether by alcohol or drugs. His hands wandered everywhere and he became extremely affectionate, even cuddly, though it was mostly him grabbing your ass. You had only ever seen it for yourself; it was what he did when you were around, and you didn’t have the heart to ask what he did, or who he did it with, when you were absent.

“What’s up?” You let out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair, fingers toying with the straw of your cup.

“I wanna see you,” he spoke and you guessed he had walked out of whatever room he was in.

“I’m studying right now. I told you, remember?”

“Mm, yeah, yeah, you did,” Suna grumbled before a sharp noise echoed through the line, followed by a curse.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just knocked some shit over. Anyways, come on, just take a break.” You took in a sharp breath, wanting to knock your head against the wall. You knew when to say no, but when it came to him that never meant it was easy.

“I really can’t, Rin. If you just want a girl all over you, call someone else,” you flinched at your own tone, stupefied by the coldness of it.

Whilst you were pondering the source of your sudden anger, Suna was chuckling, probably shaking his head. “Hey, hey, where’s that coming from?”

“Well, I’m just giving you a disclaimer. I’d love to be there, but my grade for this class is desperately crying for help,” you laughed, hoping to cover up whatever that had been.

“So what? I just call someone else?”

“If that’s what you want right now,” you frowned, a detestable panic rushing through you. It was so stupid to even suggest so in the first place, what were you hoping to accomplish? Maybe you just wanted to check for yourself what happened when you weren’t there to satisfy him.

“Unfair, much?” He sighed, and you wished you were facing him right now, if only to catch a glimpse of what goes through his mind.

“How?” You ventured with a gulp, heart pounding against its cage.

“You’re the only girl who doesn’t sober me up,” your stomach twisted onto itself at the smirk on his voice. You felt sick yet couldn’t point down the reason why - there were several. You being foolish enough to even think of this fact as a confession, him only calling you because he just wanted his high to last. Was he using you? The thought raced through your mind, along with a few scenes of you laying next to him.

“Hey,” he blurted out seriously. Between you only remained the loudest silence you had heard.

“Hey,” you were utterly breathless, struggling for air as your lungs closed up and rebelled against your will. You wondered if this was truly so shocking. While you were in the back of his hair, this fear was always forced to the back of your mind. You had knowingly mistaken every moment for more than it was.

“Are you o-”

“I need to go, actually. I’m still at the library, so I should head home. Have fun, yeah?”

Before he could even reply, you ended the call, gripping your phone so tightly that your knuckles went white.

The ride to your apartment was loathsome, to say the least. Not even the loud music could keep you away from your thoughts long enough. You turned the engine off and made your way to the elevator. In the process of searching through your backpack, your phone almost slipped from your hands when you jumped in surprise, startled at the arm sticking through the closing doors.

Your heart dropped when they opened up to reveal a panting Suna staring right through you.

“Rin, what are you doing here?” You stammered when he pressed the button to your floor, nearing your figure.

“I came here to see you,” he was still slightly out of breath, eyes scanning you as if they were searching for something. Had he run for so long?

You took a look at your handwatch and cringed. It was late, but not late enough for him to come knock at your door.

“Thought you’d be busy until later,” you replied dryly, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Yeah, well, change of plans.” His sleazy eyes never left you, and you regretted not taking the stairs.

“I’m sorry I made you come all the way here, but you should go-” You stared at the hand wrapped around your wrist that pulled you closer until you stumbled forward.

“Don’t do that.”

You chuckled viciously, a sound that bruised him. “Sorry I’m not really in the mood to have sex right now.”

“You know that’s not what I’m here for.” Suna started to be visibly frustrated, or at least you thought so by the strength with which he was gripping the pole behind you.

“Then why are you here? That’s all we’ve ever done, Suna,” the name rolled off your tongue awkwardly, and as distasteful as it was for you, his flinch made it clear that he disliked it even more. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, straight to your apartment with the hopes that he’d stay behind.

“Oh, so now we’re back to the last-name basis?” You felt him right behind you, his heavy breathing audible.

“I’m sorry, okay?” You half-assed the apology as you struggled with your keys, the slight shake in your hands slowing you down.

After stepping inside, you turned just in time to see his shake head.

“Why are you being like this all of a sudden?”

Your eyes rolled back at his indifference. How could he be so dense? Was he feigning innocence like this was a game to the both of you? It may have been for him, but not for you.

“I don’t know!” A step towards him and you were already too close. You felt claustrophobic from the way he hovered above you. “Maybe because I feel fucking stupid? I know there’s nothing between us, I’m well aware,” the laugh that formed in your throat was bitter, yet it didn’t compare to the tightening of your chest. “But this just isn’t what I want anymore.”

Suna looked at you as if you had gone insane, unaware of the slight craze in his amber eyes. “What do you want?” He grabbed onto the door, stepping forward until he had cleared his way inside.

“Not this, not whatever you want out of me.”

The grin on his face, unlike his usual striking ones, branded an emotion he had never worn before. “Which is?”

“Making you cum while you’re high, apparently,” you sneered back, tearing his hand away from the door.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Suna gritted through his teeth, slamming the door shut. You groaned, debating how hard you would have to smack his head with your backpack to give him a concussion.

“Oh, am I? You said so yourself.”

“You’re twisting my words,” he pointed his finger at you accusingly, fuming with every breath.

“How so?” This time you didn’t back off. Instead, you hit his chest, resisting the urge to claw at it so he’d at least keep a distance. “If you care to explain, go right ahead!”

“I never said that’s all I want,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep calm, which was turning out difficult for the both of you.

“Right, because only seeing you after you've smoked wasn’t enough of a message. I don’t even see you throughout the day!”

“How is that only my fault? You never told me you wanted something else, and you were as happy to fuck as I was whenever I knocked on your door.” You could only scoff at his words, amazed he could even dare to try and blame you.

“You know damn well this isn’t on me. I'm not the unavailable one, I'm not the one that's always gone until it's convenient. I'm not the one who barges in and acts like they own me, or did you forget about that already?” You had begun to scream out without realizing, but the rage you felt burning through the cracks of your heart was urging to be released.

Suna stood there quietly, staring at you with distant eyes, like he was too busy making sense of his own thoughts to even mind yours. When the clock ticked away and he had still not spoken a word, you inhaled, bracing yourself.

“Listen, this was nice. And I’d like to stay as a friend, so let’s just leave it at this. If you had plainly admitted that all you ever wanted was sex, I would’be been slightly better now.” The words were calculated and detached as you held onto the sleeves of your cardigan.

“You’re not fucking getting it, it’s not just the sex that I want,” Suna finally mumbled, but your hand was already placed on the knob.

“Well it's all you ever cared to ask for.” You opened the door and stepped away, unable to look anywhere but at the floor.

“When I said I didn't wanna leave you, I didn't mean- I meant…” each word was a separate struggle, and you lacked the strength to bear it any longer.

“What did you mean, Rintaro?” You only offered a tired smile as he stood there once again like a fish out of water. A silent challenge he never took on.

It only took you a few seconds to decide to push him from behind towards the door. You were angry, and heartbroken, and definitely not okay, but something like this was not worth losing him over. Despite everything, he had been a great friend before.

“Have a good night,” and with that, you spelled away the image of the tall brunette you came to adore.

You were still dripping from your long shower, the robe you wore doing little to collect the water before it hit the floor. It was early afternoon, not even 24 hours after the fight, yet it felt like an eternity had passed. You hadn’t heard from Suna at all, and a part of you wondered if you would soon or if he would disappear for a while. Shaking the thoughts away, you walked over to the kitchen to grab a drink when the doorbell rang. You frowned, scrambling your brain for anything your friends had said about coming over, but you were sure none had the plans to visit. The moment you opened the door, the scent of musk and ginger washed over you.

“Please don’t shut the door on me, you seem to have taken a liking to it,” he blabbered out as soon as your eyes met. You hesitated, shifting your weight on your feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“Give me a chance?” You frowned, scanning his face for ulterior motives but all you found was honesty. Despite it, your stomach sank at the sight. Though you didn’t know if you had wanted to see him or not, you wouldn’t have imagined it would be this hard.

“Rin, really, what are you-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, too bewildered to properly speak. Another glance at his face told you he was sober - he even looked more put together than he usually did, though it looked like his volleyball uniform was under his outerwear.

“For someone who was so upset, you should at least give me the opportunity,” he joked tediously, ignoring the dense air that had formed between you two.

His smile was rueful, and genuine from what you could see. “Just...let me do this properly. Dress up and let’s go to my game,” he announced, hints of timidity teetering his voice.

You simply gazed at him, lips forming a thin line. “What are you doing? Just- what are you planning?”

“Nothing!” He swallowed down, raising up the hand that was holding two bags. You raised an eyebrow at it, unamused. “Here, I got you something.”

Receiving it from his cold hands, you looked carefully into it before digging through it. “You’re joking,” you hissed, dangling the pink lingerie in front of his face.

He was smug, toying with you for his pleasure as always. You would have too if you had not been in this situation.

“It was a joke. That’s not...really what,” he quickly delved into the other bag, holding out a small, black box. You surveyed it before cocking your head, taking it from him and opening it. The necklace inside was pretty - beautiful, actually. But you didn’t want his money, you wanted him, which was likely a harder request. “It’s not gifts that I want, Rin,” you sighed, now painfully aware that he would never be something you could predict.

“I know that, angel. But I never treated you, or did something nice for you, and most guys do with, you know,” he trailed off, eyes darting away from your face.

“My problem is you only calling me when you’re high. That issue won’t be solved with gifts,” you massaged your temple, slowly becoming a mess as you tried to put the pieces together and figure out what he was doing.

“I’m not a damn addict, princess. It’s not all I fucking care about,” Suna swore as he leaned against the door frame.

“I know that! I never said you were, but you can’t just go from only giving me that to acting as if you actually want us to be something more. So tell me, how am I supposed to feel?” Though your voice nearly broke, you held onto the door - determined to at least stand your ground. You had been clear with him. You had specified you couldn’t do this anymore, so the least he could do is respect that.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, glimmering ever so briefly that you wondered if the change had been a figment of your imagination. “Listen— I've never,” his chest trembled with a breath before he continued. “I've never been in love with someone, alright? I don’t know how it fucking feels, and that was the last thing I planned on doing. And don’t get me wrong, I was hooked on you from the very beginning. But then suddenly you're the only person I’m attracted to,” Suna’s voice was uncharacteristically weak, threatening to crack at any moment. “And believe me it wasn’t for lack of trying, because while my dick was inside someone else, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to see you. And I didn’t- I don’t know how to process that, all that you fucking make me feel. I don’t even know if I want to process it at all, if I’m being sincere.” His lips lifted into a pained smile that didn’t reach his tormented eyes. “But when you ended that call, you sounded so hurt I panicked. And I don't have a plan, and I'm rambling, and this is probably the most I’ve ever said at once, but if I know something, it’s that I can't let it end here,” his throat bobbed but his steps to you were resolute. You almost turned away when his hands cupped your cheek, spanning the skin delicately.

You couldn’t find your voice for all it was worth. It was hard to tell whether your brain was working faster than your heart.

“You say that, but,” you jerked when you felt a tear trickling down your cheek. Suna’s fingers stuttered undecidedly, but his thumb wiped away the salty trail. “Assuming you truly felt that way, you never acted on it. Actually, you acted very differently,” you hiccuped, biting the inside of your cheek in shame.

“You want me to be honest with you? I feel like such a mess around you, like I might explode. It’s easier to deal with that in certain situations. Hence me restricting our time with each other to me being high,” Suna murmured, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was scared all the good I’d ever do for you is a nice fuck. What if that’s all I get until I mess up? You’ve got it so together and I’m here, not even able to talk about my stupid feelings.”

You gaped at his pale face: the beautiful carving of his features, the slight quavering of his bottom lip, the long eyelashes framing half-mast eyes.

“You mean that?”

He laughed at your simple question, likely expecting more after everything he had let out. You wanted to give him more, but you were unable to, still trapped in your fear that it would all be fake.

“I do. And I’m sure it can’t just be me who feels like this.” With a look at you, he pinched your cheek gently, looking for an answer.

“It’s not just you. Obviously,” you grumbled disapprovingly. It was pretty obvious to you, but he still smiled sweetly, the frenzy in his face slowly fading.

“I’ll probably miserably fail, but I at least wanna try. I wanna do this — with you. So please let me. And if it’s not enough for you even after that, then I won’t waste your time anymore. But give me the chance.” His hands lowered to your jaw and neck while he spoke the words, forcing you into a retreat.

“Rin, do you even know how relationships work?” You scoffed, quirking your eyebrows at the boy.

“Yes. No. In theory?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his response. He really was awfully cute sometimes.

You eyed his waist, reluctantly deciding to wrap your arms around it with a heavy sigh. “I’ll probably regret this and get my heart broken.”

“Hopefully it’s not your heart that gets broken,” Rin quickly added, looking down at your body with a sneaky grin. You glared at him, hiding away the smile on your lips.

“You know we have to like- go on dates. During the day and all?”

He nodded like this was a work interview and he was expecting the question.

“Okay, so get ready. Let’s go to my game,” he signaled over to your room given your bathrobe, but you could only stare at him cautiously.

“I mean it. Come cheer for me,” Rin leaned down to you with the whisper, reaching your eye level. You nodded, rushing to get dressed once he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“You know,” he started off casually, grabbing your hand. “I might’ve cried if you hadn’t come back with me.”

“Oh, really?” You smirked at him, curiosity filling you.

Swiftly noticing your mood shift, he explained. “Well I talked to some friends...for advice, or whatever. So if I had showed back alone, those two jerks would’ve never let me hear the end of it.”

He squeezed your hand as laughter soared through you, your free hand traveling to your abdomen when it began hurting. “Seriously?” You added when you managed to control the laughter, gaining a glare from Suna.

“Seriously.”

When your eyes had returned to the road ahead of you, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your palm.

“I’ll do this, so just don’t complain anymore okay?”

This was so long??? If you actually read all of it, THANK YOU LMAO. also sorry for the weird spaces sometimes, i like writing in docs so i don’t lose anything aha so it b weird sometimes idky. okay yeah thank you !!

art credit: damnzucoyy on tiktok

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it

Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.

______________________________________

Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid. 

The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a ��Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.

After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns. 

This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake. 

“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear. 

Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”

Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared. 

“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”

Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach. 

When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”

“Mhm?”

Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”

Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant. 

“What’s that, love?” 

Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”

Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas. 

Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”

Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week. 

“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot. 

He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home. 

Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’. 

And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by. 

Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression. 

“Feel like shit.”

Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window. 

After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”

Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”

“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything. 

After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”

“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.

“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”

Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh. 

“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps. 

Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”

Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”

One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.” 

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him. 

It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him. 

“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”

“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”

“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”

“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.

“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.

“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”

They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.

New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”

Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”

“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”

“Jaski-”

“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”

Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.” 

“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”

“I’d use all the words for you.”

“All of them?”

Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...” 

[honorguk]

dating ➔ jackson wang

» navigation | REQUESTED

what it’s like to date jackson from GOT7 (based on my assumptions)

────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ────

─ • OVERALL:

always squishing your face or playing with your hair

sugar daddy vibes ngl

absolutely SPOILS you in anything and everything (favorite thing to buy for you is lingerie and snacks though)

you sleep exclusively in his shirts and tees

and he lets you softly hit him and cuddle into him when you’re on your period

jokingly teasing you and bullying you constantly

“gosh, jackson, i’m so tired today..” “good.” (and says it with a straight face too)

(but not before bursting out laughing and hugging you as you playfully hit his arm)

speaking of, soooo many play fights! He also leaves bruises on accident which you find kinda hot 0-0

takes the best care of you when you’re sick

tries to help you with homework…*tries*...

a pouty puppy straight up

gym buddies always

oftentimes he feels like he doesn’t deserve you and you have long heart-to-hearts with him about it, telling him he’s enough

i mean, he’s a dream; he’s everything you could’ve asked for, and you make sure to remind your prince that everyday :)

─ • DATES YOU GO ON:

mostly shopping trips and expensive restaurants

like this man can straight up take you on a date to another country

“you’ve been to bali yet? no? then let’s go sunday.”

a true gentleman on the outside but still acts like a little kid 

plays with his food all the time and you build menu forts at restaurants - the paps love it

but also suuuuper down to just relax at home

all cuddled into each other and messy with crumbs of popcorn while watching your favorite show

if you take him bungee jumping he will cry.

but he will go on a roller coaster for you while he frantically holds your hand and screams

─ • PET NAMES:

he’d be like “babyyyy” with a pout 

literally a puppy so you call him one (and he pretends to dislike it, but in reality, we all know he’s obsessed)

so in return he says you’re his kitten

feels weird to call each other by your real names after a while

“hey, jackson, can you help me with this?” “who’s jackson?” (and will jokingly ask if you’re cheating on him)

‘prince’ and ‘princess’ is said a lot (and you end up calling him ‘princess’ as well lol)

─ • WHILE ON TOUR:

ringing you up with a cutesy smile on his face

“how’s my baaaabyyyy?”

when he misses you most is when he truly gets all lovey dovey and affectionate

will actually try and visit you every bimonthly or so (or tries to - he has the cash but not always the time…)

kicks out all the other members out of his room (if he hasn’t locked the door properly prior) when talking to you

he feels that it’s very personal and doesn’t want you devoting your attention to anybody else <3

jamming to own songs on speaker lmao

─ • ARGUING/MAKING UP:

he can get very loud, and so can you

fights are scary but very passionate between you since the big ones are so rare

he treasures the relationship so much that he bends around your desires constantly, but sometimes it’s too much

extremely scared to lose each other so you both end up crying at the end from that fear

yet you still know when to stop shouting, thought at rare points in time it can continue for hours

jackson can walk off sometimes, but he tries not to; he’ll end up drinking and ignoring you but will always come back to you at the end of the day

tries to be very adult and straight forward but can still get emotional, obviously (his stress gets to the best of him and sometimes fucking it out doesn’t work)

when he sees you flinch from the volume of his voice it really strikes him, and he backs down and apologizes, hugging you to him so close

even though he approaches you first, it’s 50/50 as to who actually apologizes first

at the end of the day, it’s always love that wins, and even if you guys won’t talk to each other, the other members make you ;)

─ • NSFW:

extremely passionate

you probably made a sex tape already

the man’s PACKING no lie (at least metaphorical big dick energy, right?)

an do it anywhere, anytime - just tell him and he’ll be ready

has an extremely high sex drive like are you okay

also has a thing for quickies, especially when you’re both about to go somewhere fancy and he just can’t contain himself being around you in that tight, black dress

lots of stamina, but opts for round two maximum, and usually quite rough

but also extremely passionate and loving - it’s never just “fucking” to him

whispers ‘i love you’ constantly, accompanied by very primal groans

it all starts and ends very cheesy and romantically - the lingerie is on the floor, the rose petals have cascaded from the sheets, and instead of the bedroom you’re in the bathtub, making each other giggle by splashing water

soft body rubs when you’re done..gosh he’s so whipped

[bitchassbucky]

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

[savagetrickster]

Stay with Me | BNHA

request:  Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character:  bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou,  college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders. 

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him. 

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.” 

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week. 

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly,  finally looking away from the outside.  

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression. 

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell. 

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima. 

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm. 

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere. 

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce. 

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual. 

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.” 

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons. 

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks. 

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs. 

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron. 

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle. 

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else— 

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility. 

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope. 

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them. 

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin. 

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.  

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm. 

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth. 

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say, 

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?” 

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look. 

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him. 

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate. 

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you. 

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you. 

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

[boygirlmeetsworld]

Messy.

ONE-SHOT

Word count: 2793

Disclaimer:  One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.

Warning: None

Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)

Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now.  At long last it it FINISHED.

Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.

Without further ado, here ya go.

Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.

Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

__________________________________________

The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching. 

She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’

Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again. 

Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately. 

Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being. 

Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could. 

“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”

He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’ 

Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’

Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.

‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated. 

He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that. 

But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’

“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”

“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?” 

He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’

Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”

Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…

But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’  

Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”

“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”

“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”

Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’

“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.

                                                       * * *

“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.

Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’

“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.

“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.

‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘

“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”

Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.

“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”

Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.

“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”

“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”

An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’

“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”

Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.

He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this. 

Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’

                                                        * * *

“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.

‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.

“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”

When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”

Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.

“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.

‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?

It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.

Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.

Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’

Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…

‘Zoro was crying.’

Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.

One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.

‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’

“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”

‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.

“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.

A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”