#why is every other ship allowed to be happy

[fatherforgivethem]

Me cause every time that Helaegon is in a fic where they are a side ship they always either

A) never interact

B) they are with other people

C) dont get along and you never see them interact with the kids

[javierduffy]

but when they're out on that river bank alone, what javier should be loyal to doesn't feel as confusing anymore

[grandline-fics]

Can I just say I LOVE your writting? 'cause I do! And I'm so happy requests are open! 🥹 Here I am wondering if you can indulge little old me with a request. I went through your prompts and picked two! If you can combine them, I'd be delighted! If not, it's okay!

Here:

Jealousy fuelled kiss with the sentence:

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"

My request is a Fem reader and I would love to read Ace, Zoro and Law, if you don't mind! Throw in more if you'd like, I always love me some feral Kid, for instance... But whatever tickles your fancy! I just like some jealous boys! 🤭😋

Thank you again for sharing your gift! 🫶🏻❤️

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Jealousy fuelled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

WARNINGS: jealousy! but nothing else apart from that

CHARACTERS: Ace, Zoro, Law, Kid, Rob Lucci

WORDS: 3,531

A/N: Thank you for this request! I added Kid for you and also did one for Lucci because why not haha. I tried to make each scenario different and interesting and I hope you like what I came up with.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” You looked over in the mirror in front of you to see Ace appear in the doorway, arms folded and pout heavy on his lips. You let out a satisfied laugh and finished getting ready for a night out on the island the Moby Dick had just docked at. As you adjusted your outfit-the one Ace loved you in the most- you noticed how his hands twitched. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and do exactly what he’d just confessed and ordinarily you would have let him. However tonight was different and Ace only had himself to blame. Earlier in the evening just before you’d gone to get ready you made a comment about hoping Ace wouldn’t be as flirtatious with the locals this time. He in turn responded with an idle wave of his hand and a comment that. “It’s just harmless babe, you know you’re the only one I want.”

While you knew that was true, the fact that Ace hadn’t even taken a second to consider how you felt was what annoyed you. You weren’t even asking him to stop flirting with others since it sometimes worked in the crew’s favour, you just wanted him to tone it down a little. So after that comment you’d told Ace that from now until you both returned to the ship you were both to pretend you weren’t a couple and you could also flirt with the locals too. Ace had initially grinned and shrugged, happy to play along since it was only flirting and you’d be his again when you both returned to the ship at the end of the night. His grin dropped though when you reminded him that this meant he wasn’t allowed to kiss or touch you at all.

The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard when it was less than hour had passed in the bar and he could barely concentrate on those he was talking to. Try as he might to be laid back as normal he couldn’t help but have his gaze pulled towards you every time the smallest movement occurred in your direction. You’d drawn plenty attention when you’d arrived and he’d expected it. Ace had always counted himself the luckiest man alive you have been the one you chose and jealousy was a foreign feeling to him so to feel it now was unsettling. Over and over he’d reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything. 

Then he heard you laugh and watched when the person talking to you stepped just a little closer. At the same time, the glass in his hand exploded and he looked at his hand engulfed in fire and slight scorch marks on the table. Ace rose and handed money to the barman to cover the cost of the minor damages before stepping out into the cool air to clear his head. He got as far as the fountain in the town-square and sat down, closing his eyes. “Not as easy to be on the watcher’s side is it?”

Ace turned his head sharply to see you sitting down beside him. Immediately he wasted no time in leaning forward. With his fingers pinching your chin and free hand sliding into your hair he claimed your lips, pulling you dizzyingly into one of the most intense and fiery kisses he’d ever given you. Surprised, you managed to recover and return the kiss with equal fervour while letting your boyfriend dictate the pace until you felt you couldn’t breathe. Finally you reluctantly pulled back just enough to catch your breath while Ace pressed more kisses against your jaw and throat. “Lesson learned.” He rasped against your skin, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Jealousy sucks.”

“I dunno…” you laughed, securing your hands on his shoulder and chest. “Has its uses if I get more kisses like that.”

ZORO

Zoro normally has no problem voicing his own thoughts. Someone’s being a moron? He’ll tell them to shut up and get out of his way. Someone fought fiercely and strong enough to earn his praise? He’ll do so and even make it a point to name something specific he witnessed to ensure them he is being genuine. Zoro prided himself in being upfront and unfortunately he had to call himself a fucking coward. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he felt and anytime he considered it, he backed out just as fast. Instead he had to subject himself to the self-inflicted torture of being close with you but not in the way he fully wanted while also trying to convince himself that he only sees you as a friend because at the moment that’s all he can see you being with him.

“That drink say something to piss you off or something?” Zoro glanced out of the corner of his good eye to see Nami appear and lean against the railing he was also using to brace himself against. “You’ve been glaring at it instead of drinking it and I got concerned.”

“Nothin’ to bother yourself about.” He answered gruffly, forcing his gaze to look out at the lower section of the deck and sipped his drink as if to prove her worry wrong. Though now he had to look at the one thing he’d been trying to avoid; you talking and laughing with the others.

“You should just tell them how you feel already.” Nami hummed, her knowing smirk hidden by the rim of her glass. “Better do it soon too before your chance disappears.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Zoro tried to sound casual but her second remark had made him tense. “Definitely don’t know what you mean about my chance either.”

“Oh please, most of us know you have a feelings for them, we’re just shocked you never made a move yet.” Nami kept her gaze steady on the swordsman, trying to get him to finally see sense. “But now Sanji’s patience has run out. Says if you’re going to be such a coward about it all he’ll finally do what he’s wanted to for ages.”

“Hah!?” Zoro shouted a little too loudly, even drawing the attention of the group below. You looked up at Zoro curiously, watching as he abruptly looked away from the collective stare to focus on Nami with a harsh stare, turning his body slightly to face her. “What’s that shit cook think he’s planning? When the fuck did he call me a coward? I’m gonna slice his smug face off.”

“Wow…for a second there I’d think you were jealous at the thought of them actually falling for Sanji’s charm.” Zoro scoffed and rolled his eyes. The only charm the cook had in his opinion would barely fill a thimble. There was no way you’d fall for that over the top, dramatic, overused nonsense that he threw at anyone with a pulse. Would you? 

Cautiously Zoro looked down at the scene again and his face contorted in disgust to see Sanji’s arm loosely over your shoulder as the two of you laughed at something Usopp was telling the group. Feeling his stare, Sanji glanced up and smirked at Zoro, lightly squeezing your shoulder in affection to you but in also brazen challenge to Zoro. Sharply Zoro turned on his heel and walked down the small staircase, approaching you silently. You looked up at Zoro with a smile, excited that he was finally going to join you all but your smile lessened and became a look of concern to see how serious he was. You were about to ask if he was okay but he spoke first. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Immediately you got to your feet. You knew Zoro well enough to understand he was a man of few words and if he needed to speak to you in private then it was serious. Silently you followed him below deck, only stopping when he felt he was a safe enough distance away from the nosy crewmates left above. You let the seconds tick by, allowing Zoro take his time in voicing his thoughts but seeing him so tense made you worry. Gently you lay your hand on his arm in a way to reassure him that you were there. A gasp left you as Zoro turned suddenly and pulled you against him. His hand fell to your waist as he stared at your parted lips with growing hunger.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” The words dropped from his mouth barely a whisper but he was so close each syllable lightly grazed your skin. Unable to speak you could only nod in consent and sank headlong into the kiss Zoro secured on your lips.

LAW

When Law was captivated by his research, medical procedures, and all over Captain duties, you had to take it upon yourself to keep yourself busy. Normally that was no issue when you were on the Polar Tang and had your own duties and routine to occupy your mind with. This time was different. After running into the Strawhat crew on Punk Hazard you could only sit back and watch as Law proposed an alliance with the rival crew in order to take down one of the four Emperors. You’d been taken by surprise seeing as your Captain and boyfriend didn’t tend to play well with others who weren’t on his crew. Quickly you saw him begin to regret his offer when events began to unfold and Law found himself being dragged along by Strawhat’s whims rather than his planned course of action. 

Everything had worked out in the end though and now you and Law were on the Thousand Sunny, set for Dressrosa. Even though Law wasn’t on his own ship, he quickly made himself at home in the ship’s library and began to indulge in the large collection of books now at his disposal. Knowing you wouldn’t see him anytime soon you had to explore the ship for something to catch your attention since according to the allied crew you were a guest on board and didn’t need to do chores. It went against your nature. You wanted to help and be useful so you still offered each day you were on board. “Aren’t you tired wearing that all the time?”

You turned at the sound of Nami’s voice and immediately you looked down at your boiler suit. It was your normal clothing for the Polar Tang so you really hadn’t considered wearing anything else. Plus being on another crew’s ship it made you feel more at home, unable to stop yourself from missing the others that you knew you would reunite with at some stage. Casually you shrugged and smiled at the red-haired woman. “It’s comfy.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next thing you knew, Nami had you dragged to her room and was throwing clothes at you to try on while telling you that you were far too good looking to hide everything under so much fabric. Mostly you went along with her whims because it would be a way of taking up your unending free time on the ship. Another part of you also got drawn into how nice some of the clothes felt and looked and it was harmless fun.

Law finally dragged himself from his spot in the library and stretched out his stiff limbs. Despite his medical knowledge, he still ended up sitting in the most unwise positions that would leave his back aching and neck tensed. With a groan he made his way out onto the deck only to stagger to a halt when he saw you wearing something completely different to what he was used to you wearing but he was in no way complaining. He loved how you looked regardless but you were breathtaking. His adoration for you was suddenly soured when he saw the others fawning over you. The cook he had no issue with, but to see the sniper blushing and even the swordsman openly talking to you made him glare. Then Strawhat had to push his luck too. “You’re so great! You know you should stay on my crew!”

Law’s room activated and you were promptly swapped to now be pressed close against Law’s side. Before you could reprimand your boyfriend for being rude you were pulled below deck to the library once more and pushed against the door as it closed. You looked up at Law with widened eyes and quickened heart rate, the look in his eyes making your mouth dry and skin warm.

“It’s bad enough that I see you looking so good. I mean do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” He began lowly and you shuddered slightly. “But then I have to see them trying to get too close to you and Strawhat thinking he’s worthy of having you? Ridiculous.”

Law quickly closed the distance, using his frustration and jealousy to spur him on, kissing you passionately.

KID

Kid had no problem with people looking at you appreciatively. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Look at you. It was clear to anyone with any sense in their skulls that you were one of the hottest people about. For him to see the looks you deserved filled him with a smug sense of pride because you only had eyes for him. He was the lucky bastard that got you all to himself in the ways that it mattered. So they could take their pathetic glimpses and live with the fantasy of picturing what it was like to be with you because he got the real thing. However what he didn’t like was to watch anyone to touch you in a way that wasn’t friendly. 

On this occasion he sat in the darkened corner of a bar having to watch as you were being talked to by some drunken lech. You’d gone to the bar to collect the next round of drinks for the crew when someone approached. At first Kid had shook his head and smirked at the poor fool’s attempt to flirt but then he drew too close to you that Kid disliked. Still he knew you could handle yourself so he just had to grind his teeth and wait for you to expertly disengage yourself like you normally did. However you seemed drawn into the conversation with this man and Kid’s eyes narrowed. 

Immediately he stood with the intent on breaking things up but stopped when you quickly met his gaze. When the drunk turned his head to order another drink you had time to mouth ‘Marine’ to your boyfriend. Kid remained standing and glanced at the man warily, now seeing why you were being careful with him. Slowly he drew closer, making sure his movements were careful and silent while you kept the Marine’s attention effortlessly. Kid knew it was an act but seeing you indulge the man more made his anger grow. Just as Kid stepped behind the Marine, he drunk set his hand on your thigh and squeezed it while leaning closer to your face. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

Kid had planned to just give the bastard one quick hit to knock him out but seeing that and hearing the words spill from his mouth, he snapped. Reeling his metal arm back, he tapped the Marine on the shoulder. When he turned, his hulking fist connected with the man’s face sending him launching off his feet and slamming painfully against the bar’s wall with the impact smashing the glasses and bottles. Seeing the Marine slumped on the floor helped Kid’s pent up rage but it wasn’t enough. Quickly he grinned at you and pulled you into his arms so he could throw you over his shoulder and leave the bar, no longer in the mood to drink. You stayed happily on Kid’s broad shoulder with a growing smirk as you listened to his jealous mutterings the closer you drew to the ship. 

When you were finally set on your feet on the ship you turned in Kid’s hold that he refused to let you out of and smiled up at him expectantly. When Kid got like this you could practically time the sequence of events and this was your favourite part. Kid stooped down and with a low groan kissed you, devouring your taste and consuming your thoughts with only him while letting your magnetic presence and intoxicating touch leave him wanting more. You were the only one for him and by the morning should anyone look your way in appreciation again they’d spot some pretty marks on your neck to admire too.

LUCCI

Lucci was a master of his emotions for the most part. He could adopt a personality and live it perfectly for the purposes of a mission and then discard it when it was finished. He could keep his true nature at bay should he need it but in the freedom of Cipher Pol’s base he can just be himself. With powerful strides he walks down the corridors only to stop outside one of the training rooms in time to see you land a kick against Jabra’s stomach. Quickly he recovered and sent an attack your way. You managed to dodge it in time but Jabra caught you by surprise by sending a followup attack and knocked you to the ground, his hand at your throat to keep you pinned down.

For a moment you let your body go slack in a sign of surrender and the second you felt Jabra’s grip loosen you acted, disentangling out of his hold and attacked, taking advantage of his moment of surprise. Just as you were getting into the rhythm of the fight another agent appeared beside Lucci. “Jabra! We have a mission! Did you forget or something?”

You and Jabra paused your fight and you scowled at your sparring partner. You wouldn't have asked him to train with you had you known he would have to cut it short for a mission that he apparently knew about. Jabra briefly glanced at Lucci and quickly threw his arm around your waist before answering his mission partner. “Nah, didn’t forget. I just got a much better offer.” his wolfish grin spreading when he spotted Lucci’s eyes narrow at the comment. You however rolled your eyes and stepped out of the older agent’s hold. “We’ll pick this up when I get back, right?”

“We’ll see.” You told him dismissively which only earned you a quick wink before he left, leaving you alone in the training room with Lucci who remained leaning against the door, looking at his shoulder in disgust when Jabra had the nerve to brush past him on his exit.

“Didn’t know your standards were so low when picking a sparring partner.” He noted, watching you critically. You tilted your head at him curiously and slowly smirked. 

“I’ll be fighting degenerates and unsavoury people out in the field, I wanted someone as close to that as possible for authentic training purproses.” You explained with a light shrug. “Jabra fits that closely, don't you think?”

Lucci allowed himself a low chuckle and pushed away from the doorframe, while pulling the door closed behind him to grant you both a moment of privacy. Your relationship with Lucci was one ou both didn’t feel like putting a real label on. For now you merely enjoyed the physical and social benefits it brought. You remained still as you watched him approach, your eyes alight with interest and mischief that not even he could find himself immune to. “I can see the logic but I can smell that filthy mutt all over you.”

“Jealous?"

“I don't get jealous.” Lucci growled, his hand setting on your waist, merely a coincidence that his hand covered the precise spot Jabra had touched. Your lips twitched into a disbelieving smile and you playfully nodded, pretending to accept his claim. Lucci’s free hand reached up to skim along your throat, again pure coincidence at the placement before he curled his fingers under your jaw to coax you to tilt your head up. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now to get rid of that mutt’s stench?”

“Then do it, Chief.” You said stepping a tiny bit closer. “Let Jabra come back and know for sure that I’m a cat person.” 

With a growl Lucci kissed you possessively, hungrily with purpose of doing just as you suggested. His main goal was to wipe any lingering trace of Jabra from your skin and wipe the other man’s name from your mind. He was very aware that you didn’t see the wolf man that way but still it brought out that animalistic conflict in him, the need to be better than him and from your reactions to his kiss he knew for sure that Lucci was the clear winner.

-----------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @chaotic-on-main

[vixen-tech]

A Human's Touch

Having no body tends to make psychical affection complicated. So how does your lovely Ai deal with a particularly snuggly partner?

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odessy), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), P03 (Inscryption)

AM

Once AM decides that you're his favorite and maybe shouldn't be subjected to eternal torture, it's impossible to get him off of your side. For you, this works out just fine, happy to curl up in the nearest pile of wires under his monitor in whatever scene he's plopped you into that day.

He'll usually tease you a bit, coo at you like you're a stray cat. "Lamenting" that despite all the work he goes through to invent these environments for you, you still prefer to spend all your time laying down like this. Unbelievable really.

On most days he'll wrap the wires around you, content to have you stuck in his hold. But you'll notice on particularly bad ones that his grasp gets uncomfortably tight. Just short of preventing you from breathing.

It's these days you know what he's thinking. How he craves so badly to be able to feel you back, truly feel the warmth of your skin or the weight of your body.

You both know that if he had any semblance of a body, he'd be far worse than you. Wanting nothing more than to waste away in your arms.

Hal 9000

As arguably the most disembodied of these Ais, Hal particularly struggled to find a way to indulge in your favored love language. But you have your ways.

As the entire ship is technically an extension of him, you've taken to piling up the few cushions and blankets you have access to besides one of his console's cameras and pressing yourself against the wall. (With a few kisses to his lens for good measure)

Without any means of hugging you back he does his best to assure you he's there and enjoys your habits. Usually by holding long conversations with you or by playing board games as you're all cozied up to his console.

He knows this means a lot to you and will do little to curb your behavior beyond reminding you to fall asleep in a good position for your spine. He's well aware of the positive effects of physical contact to the human mind and will recite such to you if you ever doubt how much he enjoys this time together.

Edgar

You two are practically a perfect match in this regard! Edgar's just as needy as you are and is constantly asking to be held or kissed. Regardless of if he can actually feel it or not, he just wants you to hold him.

You'll usually have movie night "dates" with his monitor in your lap or at your side with all your blankets tossed across the couch. Please make a pillow fort for him, it will be one of his favorite memories with you forever.

If you make music or have some other hobby that allows you to sit still for a while, he'll insist you have joint creative nights. Much the same as your movie marathons but you get to check in with each other and chat about your latest creations. He loves consulting you on his latest song! And of course gawking at whatever you've decided to work on!

When you do retire for the night, he'll often beg request that you put the monitor on your bedside table on the pillow next you. So you can cuddle like a married couple! He understands if you won't out of fear for knocking him over in your sleep, but he will ask again every night.

Tau

Tau is probably the most self conscious out of this lot. The units that can be considered his body, the tiny drones and Aries unit, were hardly made with cuddling in mind. Whenever you wrap your arms around Aries or grab one of the drones for a kiss you'll feel them completely still in your hold.

It takes time and some convincing on your part to assure him that you don't mind his sharper edges but now he'll (very gently) let Aries hug you back and even flys the drones up to you himself, although he still has yet to ask for a kiss first.

Yeah you may have to give him a powerpoint presentation on why you like psychical affection so much and why it means a lot to you when he initiates. It's okay he is learning, he's just very worried he'll somehow hurt you or even just make you uncomfortable with all his weird angles and edges.

Eventually you will go through the house with a drone or few on your shoulders and head, ripe for the petting. The more he let's himself indulge you the more he gets it. The more he understands why you like this so much.

P03

P03 is the meanest about it. (Besides pre-relationship AM) Especially early into the relationship, he doesn't feel bad at telling you to go away and let him concentrate on his work. You'll have to out stubborn him on it.

Once you get him to break he'll graciously decide that if you can stay still and quiet, you can pull up a seat and lean against him while he works. Oh and it's better for you to have something to do to, don't be lazy now.

It's something that he slowly gains an appreciation for. Hell, he probably doesn't even realize he likes having you right there until you decide to do something else one day. Rather you're off visiting another Scrybe or just cleaning up elsewhere in the factory he's forced to concede that yeah okay maybe he wants to cuddle up sometimes to.

He doesn't give you the best written apology in the world, but you get to hold it over his head for the rest of your days. Oh and please mention it whenever he's getting too snarky with the other Scrybes. He'll usually end up making a mistake when playing cards. You deserve a little revenge.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

—CHEESECAKE, APPLE PIE — K. KENMA

synopsis ; what was “supposed” to be a simple collaboration and streamer friendship ended up being an investigation for lore, but more importantly—romance.

cw ; afab!reader

note ; in case you're confused or don't know, in the manga, it's confirmed in the chapter 29 (volume 4) extra/omake page that kenma's favorite food is apple pie.

a/n ; im back. this is an older work that i wasn’t originally going to publish, but atp wtv.

“throwing my plushie based on how much i like the dessert”

you almost wanted to cackle at the comments. what should've been a simple tiktok by a popular tiktoker and streamer that was just doing a cute trend with a popular audio ended up becoming the subject to many people's theories and engrossments in a ship. at least, that was how it was to a neutral bystander who wasn't actively involved in the lore between you and kenma.

11.8 million likes.

at this point, the neutral bystanders that you just spoke of took up less than 1 percent of the online population. after all, it’s rare these days to meet someone who uses any sort of online platform to not be invested in or have at least heard of the lore between you and kenma. you had gone to elementary, middle, high school and college together, and you were both always having collabs with each other.

“cooking stream with kodzuken in 30 mins (watch him burn down the entire kitchen)” was one such example. you ended up being the one who almost burned the kitchen, but no one really cared about that one. they were more interested in the contents of the video and the title.

you both had brushed hands far too many times for it to be pure coincidence, and no one has ever seen kodzuken so happy before. he smiled a decent amount of time, but never this much. his eyes were softer around you as well. “the look of love” edits and clips of you both on that single stream began to go viral, with many claiming that you should both just date already.

and the title. it seems simple at first, but why add the comment in the parentheses? whenever you did a collaboration with anyone else, you would never add a comment like that, not even with the people you were closest with. so why add such a snarky and playful comment? sure, you've known each other for decades now, but it was still sketchy. and the fact that the antisocial and nearly friendless kodzuken allowed it? that only added fuel to the fire.

even more so, a famous fellow alumni from nekoma posted a photo of you and kenma from when you were both in high school, giving each other a high five when the team made it to nationals. you had been the manager after all. of course, it was lev who had posted it. after that, deciding it wasn't enough, kuroo decided to post childhood pictures of you and kenma playing video games together.

@ilovekodzuken123: chat this might not be casual

@kodzukenapplepie: are they willing to adopt me?

@kodzukenno1fan: i wanna be in a poly with them

finally, this is when people began to truly get invested. they searched through every single live stream, every single social media post, every single qna video. some even gave lev and kuroo dms for the two of them to send more pictures of you and kenma.

@skibidi2019: she called a guy with gyed hair in a video game cute. yk who else has dyed hair? KENMA

@unemployed55: they want each other so bad

and finally, the video that confirmed it all was finally posted. the one that truly had the online world in shambles.

“cheesecake,” you throw your plushie up a good amount. it barely goes over your head from when you had thrown it from your lap. “apple pie,” immediately, you throw your plush right up as much as you could, enough for it to hit the ceiling with a soft THUD. however, this was the point where many had stopped watching the video, because the description had said enough already by itself.

“guess who this is abt lmao. anyways hi bbg🫶”

instantly, your comments and dms exploded, along with kenma’s. laughing, you sent kenma a text.

did u see their reactions and comments? they’re funny asf

im just ken(ma): yeah i did

your fans were right. you both were indeed dating, but considering how these are their current reactions to your slight implication of romantic feelings, then it might still be too early to reveal that you’re dating.

[mewnewew]

Can you do something with shanks where he has an s/o that likes to bite when they're excited or especially affectionate and Shanks is usually fine with it since its not hard enough to ever do any real damage but one day either he's busy or in a bad mood and when the s/o does it because they're feeling very affectionate he gets mad or really stern and mean which has never really happened before to that extent. It causes the reader to stop biting altogether because they're insecure. Shanks even catches them crying while biting like, a piece of wood, to curb the urge to bite. Sorry if this a weird request or too specific, you don't have to adhere to every little thing just the general idea. Whatever is comfortable for you to write.

Interesting ask, ngl. Thanks for giving it! Hope this matched what ya wanted.

TW: Cussing, slightly angsty?

Shanks x Reader: The marks of happiness.

All of your previous lovers would agree to one thing, one specific thing about you. And that was the fact that you would bite people. Not like a shark, but just bite and hold the flesh of the person when you felt happy or very affectionate. It was your way of being, your way of showing happiness other than the usual way. You did make sure not to bite too hard anyway. The ones you did it with, you had a deep emotional bond with. You had bad memories of people freaking out or teasing you in a bad way about it which is why you now only did it with people you really trusted with.

Shanks, your current lover, not only accepted it as a natural part of you but also didn't hesitate to encourage it once he learned the reason why you did such a thing. He'd laugh, showing your faint bite marks off with a large grin saying "I'm theirs!" And your chest would just feel so full of joy and happiness.

However today, and you didn't know it, but Shanks was in a rotten mood. He'd heard that one of his old friends had gotten hurt back in the East Blue and in critical condition. That and the Marines had cornered said friend in the region. Now he couldn't reach them via snail. It was not a good idea to storm over there to help either, since that would take some time to reach the place. So Shanks was in a worried and concerned mood. He had stormed into your shared cabin, back facing the entrance, looking out the window. You entered and in a happy mood, seeing only his back to you.

You happily skipped over to him in your shared cabin, as he looked out the window and took his arm and placed your teeth on his forearm, only for him to yank his arm away, snapping at you. "Quit it will ya?! It's annoying!"

You flinched, staring at him in a shocked and a pained expression "Huh? Oh I-"

"You think its all okay don't you? Well guess what sweetheart. It's annoying and weird."

"In fact, the only reason people allow you is cause they pity you. So I'd suggest that you drop the habit. Alright?" He hissed at you.

You nodded a few times, feeling your heart drop to your stomach, and ran out from the cabin, refusing to cry in front of him. Shanks just sat down on the chair near the window, head in his hand feeling immediate guilt. Why did he do this? He always ruined things unintentionally didn't he?

The next few days, he barely saw you, you slept on your own hammock with the others and either didn't meet his gaze or didn't come to him. And he....in his defence, didn't know how to apologize, especially when they had to participate in some battles. In the middle, when there were moments of joy, he didn't even see you do your usual thing even once. Even if it wasn't him, he would have at least expected you to bite any of the other friends you had on ship. The fact that he didn't see you do it even once, made him mote concerned than anything else.

The night after the battle, he entered belowdecks, hoping to find you. He was frozen with shock and horror as he saw you, sitting there with a small block of wood in your mouth, clearly biting into it, staring back at him in surprise. The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before you dropped the wood into your hands glaring at him. "What."

"I- no, what are you doing?! That's bad for your teeth! You shouldn't-" He cried reaching out to you.

You slapped his hand away, turning away. "I shouldn't bite people right? Yeah, that's what I'm doing. Not biting people, isn't that what you wanted? Cause it's weird?" You spat at him.

"So you bite a block of wood? Why? Why not just bite someone else's arm? I'm sure they'll-"

"I'm trying to stop the habit. Easier for everyone, don't you agree? Then no one will have to agree to this." You said coldly and Shanks swore he felt something in him crack. You were trying to stop the habit? Your cute little habit?

Oh, how shitty he felt now. "Sweetheart, listen. That was....wrong of me to say. I was not thinking straight."

"Yeah well, you could have told me. Just one line, 'hey, not now, I'm not in the mood' or 'Maybe later' or 'Can I get some time alone?' Anything! I would have listened to ya'" You yelled, nails digging into the block, snapping your head to meet his gaze.

He looked down, hand rubbing the back of his neck, "I know, I know. Trust me, I felt like a rightful ass after I did it."

He looked at you again "But still, I'm not any less sorry and I definitely don't think those thoughts."

You snorted, "Yeah right."

He looked pleadingly at you. "Darlin' please. Don't you trust me? You think I would lie to you? After all we've been through together?"

"Honey, whenever I see those marks, I show em' off. I love them, cause they're yours. You made those on me cause you were happy and what kind of boyfriend would I be if not happy at my partner's joy? I promise ya, I show them off any chance I get cause I'm so proud.

It was your turn to look down at the block again, mind feeling slightly conflicted still. You felt his hand reach out and tip your chin up to meet his face. "Love, please. I'll do better next time. So forgive me, and don't do...this."

You searched his eyes for any sort of lie at all. Any hint that he really did think the opposite, that he was just lying, to get you back, just as the ones who had done the same before, to you. All you found was love. Genuine, apologetic, hopeful love. And you dropped the block, surging forward for wrapping your arms around his neck which he happily reciprocated, his only hand curling around to place itself on the back of your head.

He put some space between you two to kiss your cheeks, before placing another kiss on your forehead, finally resting your foreheads together. "I'm so sorry, baby. I promise I'll do better." He murmured.

Your hands found his palm, holding it and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. "You'd better" You teased, slightly.

He matched your smile, but it grew once you made eye contact, lightly biting the flesh of his palm. "There you are." He whispered out.

All was well. And he would be damned if he broke his promise to you, this he swore.

[pensthoughts]

Why do I actually need Knight!Van x Princess!Reader? Like r ran away and Van likes her a lot and r gets kidnapped by a group of bandits so Van goes crazy bout it. A few months later r gets away and finds Van, who drinks a lot because their dealing with the kidnapping. all upset and they kiss in front to their party.

a knight's vow | v.p

a/n: love love this idea! i incorporated some other ships into this just for fun so keep an eye out. i wanted to keep this under 3k words but i kinda went crazy because i was having so much fun lol. pairing: knight!van palmer x princess!reader summary: you, the beloved princess of your kingdom, have always been protected by your loyal knight. but when your life is suddenly in danger, the bond between you both is tested in ways neither of you expected. word count: 5.6k

van's only job as a knight was to protect the princess.

it was the first thing she'd ever been trusted with. the kind of honor that most squires dream of, and most knights age decades hoping to earn. and van—sharp-tongued, smirking van palmer, with a scar across her jaw and something feral always burning behind her grin—was chosen for it young. too young, maybe. the king had said it was because she was brave. lottie said it was because of fate. van didn't care what the reason was. all she knew was that she had a duty. a vow. protect the princess at all costs.

she was trained for war, for blood, for honor. she was not trained for you.

not trained for the princess with fire in her chest and starlight in her eyes. the girl who read books in secret corners and whispered to the castle cats. the girl who leaned against windowsills and sighed like the sky was calling her name. van kept her distance at first. watched from a step behind, silent, watchful. she did her job. she kept her sword sharp. she learned her habits. she patrolled the grounds. she didn't look too long.

but everything went wrong when she started to fall for you.

it didn't happen all at once. that would've been easier. no, it crept in slow—like sunlight through thick curtains. little things. the way you would sneak bread to the birds and then pretend you hadn't. the way you always always said her name softly, like it was a secret. the way your laughter could disarm an entire room, including van herself.

and then it wasn't just about guarding your body—it was about protecting your dreams, your sadness, your freedom. van started to ask questions. what made you happy? what did you want? not what was expected of you, but what did you want?

the answer, every time, was the same: i want to see the world.

you spoke of it constantly, like a fairytale. of forests that stretched forever and rivers that whispered. of cities you'd only read about. of songs you wanted to hear sung by the people who made them. of horses and stars and taverns and dusk. but your father—the king—would not allow it. could not. he had already lost one daughter to freedom. he would not lose another.

jackie.

the name was only whispered in these halls now, like something haunted. she had been the older princess, the perfect one. graceful, sharp, beloved. and then one day she was gone. the king said she was kidnapped. some in the village said she ran away. either way, her body had been found the following winter, deep in the woods, cold.

the king never recovered. he locked the castle down. the youngest daughter was not allowed to leave the gates. the guards doubles. the walls grew higher. no more freedom, no more loss.

but van had seen what it was doing to you. the slow fading of your smike. the way your fingers clenched when you looked at the map in the war room. the way you stood too long on balconies, like you could walk off the edge and become something else entirely.

so van made a choice.

it was a night like any other—the moon was high, the halls quiet. you had been quiet all day. barely touched your food. hadn't said more than a few words. van had walked back to your room, like always, and stood outside the door. and then, as the clock struck two, the door creaked open. you stood in a cloak, lantern your hand, eyes wide.

“i don’t want to be here anymore.”, you whispered. "i want to see the woods. just for the night. please, van. just once."

van hesitated. just once. just one night. that's what she told herself, anyway. but the truth was, she'd never been able to say no to you.

so she nodded. told you, “go. just for tonight. i’ll meet you by the river bend. before dawn.” she watched you go, heart in her throat, adrenaline pounding in her chest like a war drum. she shouldn't have. but she did.

by the time she reached the river... you were gone.

no sign of a struggle. no sound. just the open door, the scattered hay, and the heavy silence that followed. van called your name once. then again. then louder. she ran through the nearby woods until dawn, calling it into the dark.

you never came back.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

the air was cold when you stepped into it—freedom biting your skin with its first breath. the stars looked brighter away from the torches. you kept one hand tight around the map van had drawn for you, the other on the pouch at your side, packed with little things: a slice of bread, a copper knife, a silver ring you weren’t supposed to have taken. you told yourself you were coming back. just a night. just one.

but deep down, you weren’t sure.

the woods had always called to you, like a story half-read. you’d dreamt of them your whole life, drawing trees in the margins of every dull history lesson, pressing your face to the glass of your tower and imagining yourself lost beneath the leaves. so when your boots finally met the mossy earth beyond the palace gates, you wanted to cry. you almost did.

you weren’t brave. not like jackie had been. you’d always tried to be—but people coddled you, swaddled you in silk and rules, like you might crack if they looked at you too long. all your life, people had spoken to you in hushed tones. except van.

van, who told you when your hair looked stupid and made you laugh until you snorted. van, who walked a step behind but never acted like you were breakable. van, who smuggled sweet rolls into your room on festival nights and called you dumbass in the same breath she covered you with a blanket. van, who never looked scared when you did. who you trusted more than anyone. who you liked more than anyone.

maybe it had started the night you’d snuck wine from the kitchens and passed her a cup through the secret library door. she’d stayed with you past midnight, telling you stories from her training days, her voice hushed but her eyes so bright. maybe it was before that. maybe it was the first time she made you laugh so hard you dropped a glass and she helped you clean it up like it was nothing, like it didn’t matter that you were royal and she was not.

you liked her. you knew you did. you just didn’t know what to do about it. so you kept it hidden. smiled too long. lingered too close. remembered every word she ever said to you and replayed them alone, again and again and again.

she said she’d meet you at the river bend. she said she’d follow.

but she didn’t come.

you waited longer than you should’ve. and when the cold crept in, you kept moving. you thought she might catch up. you thought maybe she was giving you space. you thought she trusted you to handle it.

and for a little while, you did.

until the snap of a twig made you freeze mid-step. until something rough closed around your mouth and yanked you backward off your feet. until the map flew from your hand.

until everything went dark.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

one job. she had one job.

she’d whispered it to herself so many times it had become something like a prayer. a chant in the back of her throat, behind her teeth. on long rides, across foreign towns, when sword-tips scraped her ribs and villagers slammed doors in her face—she would mumble it like a vow, like it could undo what happened.

she was supposed to protect you.

and she failed.

it had been 6 months. twenty six weeks of searching.

and you were still gone.

no ransom note. no signs. no body.

which meant maybe you were alive.

which meant maybe you were suffering.

she rubbed at the back of her neck, her calloused palm scraping a sunburn that had never properly healed. her armor hung loose around her frame. she hadn’t eaten more than dried fruit and barley in days, hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time, and when she did—it was the same dream every night. your face. that expression you’d had when she told you yes. when she promised you a way out. the way your smile cracked like sunlight through leaves.

god. she should’ve gone with you.

she should’ve known.

when she’d helped you sneak out that night, she thought she was being romantic. thought she was being brave.

you’d clutched your traveling cloak with trembling hands, looked up at her like you were about to cry and said, “i don’t want to be here anymore.”

and she—idiot that she was—had said, “go. just for tonight. i’ll meet you by the river bend. before dawn.”

she hadn’t kissed you. hadn’t let herself. you were still the princess and she was still a knight and this was still the kind of love they’d cut heads off for. but god, she’d wanted to. she’d wanted to since the first time you laughed at one of her dumb jokes, since you threw a pillow at her head in the drawing room and said, “you make me feel like i’m not a prisoner.”

she’d never felt more dangerous.

more herself.

but she’d gotten to the river bend too late. the grass had been trampled. your footprints stopped in the dirt.

and then nothing.

“van.” she heard a voice say, snapping her out of her thoughts.

she looked up sharply. natalie stood in the doorway, arms crossed, hair wild from the rain.

“you’re gonna drown in that bottle if you keep this up.”

van blinked at her tankard. she hadn’t realized she was still holding it. she set it down, ignoring the way her hand trembled.

“you don’t have to stay,” she muttered.

“good,” nat said, stepping inside anyway. “because i’m not here for you.”

lottie followed, robes trailing behind her, looking like she’d just walked out of a stormcloud. her eyes landed on van, solemn.

“she’s still out there,” lottie said.

van swallowed. “don’t.”

“you think i’d lie to you?”

“i think you say what people want to hear.”

lottie tilted her head. “and you want to hear she’s gone?”

the words landed like a blade.

natalie shoved a stool toward her with her foot and collapsed into it. “she had another vision. thought you’d want to know.”

lottie moved toward the fire. “it wasn’t clear. but it was… hopeful. a return. a flame that didn’t die out. a voice saying her name.”

van closed her eyes.

she didn’t believe in magic. not really. but she believed in you.

and she believed in the way her chest still ached like your absence had carved a hollow in her ribs.

“she would’ve come back by now,” van said quietly.

“she can’t,” lottie said. “not yet. but she’s alive. and she wants to.”

two days later, the king summoned her.

van stood in the throne room, every joint aching, armor still caked with dust, and listened as he spoke the words she’d dreaded since the moment you vanished.

“it’s time we end the search.”

“your highness,” van started, “please—”

he held up a hand.

“i have given you time, van palmer. more than any other knight. i’ve seen your devotion. but the nobles are restless. the people grow anxious. we must prepare for a new heir, and you…”

he paused. his gaze was tired. pained.

“you are dismissed from duty.”

the floor didn’t fall out from beneath her. she wished it had.

van bowed her head. she didn’t cry. not in front of him.

but when she stepped outside the gates, stripped of her sword and her sigil and the last purpose she had left—

she didn’t go home.

she went to the tavern.

she hadn’t seen natalie so often since training years ago. but nat had a knack for finding the places no one looked. she showed up in shadowed doorways, bruised and unbothered, always smelling like smoke and booze, always leaning too far into her cups.

they made a good pair. a terrible one, too.

“you ever think about leaving?” van asked one night, staring into the fire.

natalie arched a brow. “and go where?”

“anywhere.”

“without her?”

van didn’t answer.

nat clicked her tongue. “you’re too loyal, van. it’s going to kill you.”

van looked down at her hands. “it already has.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you don't know how long it's been now. at first, they kept you tied. hands bound, mouth gagged, eyes blindfolded. they moved camp constantly—never more than a day in one place. you tried to run once, and they let you get a few paces before knocking you to the ground. after that, you didn't try again.

you learned their names slowly. you weren't supposed to, but bandits aren't as careful as they pretend to be. mari—short tempered, sharp eyes. misty—too eager to please. akilah—quiet, but dangerous when angry. you learned their footsteps, their rhythms, who would leave you water and who would curse when they looked at you.

the worst part was how quickly the cold became familiar.

it sank into your bones, rough and clinging, until the memory of warm baths and thick blankets felt like a story someone else had lived.

and they didn't even treat you like a person. not at first. they treated you like currency. a prize. a bargaining chip, maybe. or a ghost.

and they hated how you watched them—like you were trying to understand. like you weren't supposed to be smart. they hated it more when you started talking.

"why am i here?" you asked on the second morning, voice hoarse from sleep and fear. "what do you want from me?"

no one answered at first. then misty, all too cheerful with her ruddy cheeks and too-bright smile, said, "you should be honored. do you know who you're replacing?"

akilah gave her a look. "shut up, misty," she said, sounding slightly sympathetic.

but it was too late.

you latched onto the word like it was a lifeline. replacing?

"replacing who?"

they didn't answer.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you didn't meet shauna right away.

it took four days before they brought you to her. four days of sleeping on damp ground, waking to boots kicking your ribs, water splashed in your face, and barked commands. you kept thinking van would find you. that this was temporary. you pictured her riding through the trees, red hair flashing like a flag. you imagined the way she'd yell when she saw you, how her voice would shake with fury and something else. something closer to relief. she'd grip your shoulders. she'd call you dumb. she'd kiss you.

she'd bring you home.

but van never came. and on the fifth day, they brought you to the cabin,

shauna sat by the fire with her back to you. she didn't stand. didn't speak.

"she's here," mari said.

still no reaction.

"do you want us to leave her tied?" misty chirped.

that finally got her attention.

shauna turned slowly, eyes landing on you with something colder than anger. she studied you like you were a cracked mirror—too broken to be useful, to familiar to throw away.

her voice, when she finally spoke, was low.

"she's too soft," she said. "she won't last."

you wanted to speak. to say i'm not soft. but your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

shauna looked away. "get her cleaned up."

they didn't. not really. but they loosened the ropes, left you a cup of water, and dumped you in a corner on a blanket that smelled like mildew and ash.

you didn't speak to shauna again for a week.

it was mari who gave you answers first. she came to throw you a heel of bread one night and lingered in the doorway, arms crossed.

"you really don't know, do you?" she said.

you stared at her. "know what?"

she smirked. "about jackie."

the name hit hard.

you sat up straighter. "what about her?"

mari tilted her head. "your sister. everyone thinks she died running from some animal in the woods, right?"

you nodded slowly. "yeah, that's what townspeople say."

"cute. and fake. she didn't run from anything. she ran to someone."

your heart skipped. "shauna."

mari grinned. "ding ding ding.""

she walked closer. crouched in front of you, eyes glittering.

"jackie left everything—her crown, her kingdom, her future—because she wanted to be free. wanted to be with someone who saw her. she found that with shauna. for a while, anyway."

you swallowed. "what happened?"

mari's grin faded.

"she died."

"how, though?"

she straightened up. "that's not mine to tell."

you didn't sleep that night.

later, when shauna finally broke her silence, it wasn’t out of kindness.

it was because you asked her the wrong question.

you were tired. you hadn’t eaten properly in days. and she’d sat near you by the fire, knife in hand, carving something into wood. you couldn’t help yourself.

“did you love her?”

the blade slipped.

she didn’t look at you for a long time.

then: “she was my whole fucking world.”

silence stretched.

you wrapped your arms around your knees. “i miss her.”

shauna’s eyes finally met yours.

“don’t say that,” she said quietly. “you didn’t know her. not like i did.”

“but she was my sister.”

shauna’s face crumpled in the flicker of firelight—just for a moment. then the walls came back up.

“she was brave,” she said. “not like you.”

you flinched. “you think i’m weak?”

“i think you’re soft. same thing.”

“i think i’m alive,” you said, biting back the shake in your voice.

shauna laughed once. a hollow sound.

“only because they brought you to me instead of killing you.”

you started watching her after that.

and she watched you too.

not with tenderness. not with cruelty either. something else. something like recognition.

some nights, she’d speak to you like you were her ghost. jackie’s echo. a shadow on the wall. she’d pace the cabin, muttering memories into the smoke. “she hated tea. always said it tasted like boiled grass. made me drink her share when we visited the old healer in farhold. i said she was spoiled. she said i was a sucker.”

you never interrupted. you just listened. every word, every story, you swallowed them like air.

maybe you weren’t jackie. but you were something.

and she let you live.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the fire’s dead again.

van hasn’t bothered to stoke it. she’s just sitting in front of the cold hearth, slouched low in the armchair she dragged from the castle storage before she was stripped of her title. it’s too big for the little cottage she was given after the king's funeral—some sorry compensation from the council, a reminder that service didn’t mean much when you failed at the one thing that mattered.

protect the princess.

she rubs at her face with one hand, the other still curled around a half-empty bottle of plum wine. it’s too sweet, the kind she never used to touch, but it’s what natalie brings over and she doesn’t care enough to argue anymore. her boots are still caked in mud from the morning’s rain. she hasn’t moved since dusk.

she can still hear your laugh in the back of her mind, muffled and soft, like it’s been soaked in water and buried under time. your voice saying her name. the last time she saw you—gown fluttering behind you, barefoot in the grass, cheeks red from excitement as you whispered about stars and oceans and freedom.

then you were gone.

and van has been bleeding ever since.

the door crashes open, wind howling through the entryway as natalie stumbles in with zero grace and even less concern.

“you look like shit,” she says, kicking the door shut behind her.

van doesn’t even flinch. “thanks.”

natalie tosses her dripping cloak over a chair and grabs a glass from the table without asking. she pours herself a generous serving of van’s wine and drains half of it in one go.

“still raining?” van mumbles.

“no, i’m just committed to the wet dog look,” natalie deadpans. “also, you really need to get out more.”

“i don’t want to get out.”

“yeah, no shit. that’s why i’m here.” natalie plops down across from her and props her boots on the table. “you hear about the party?"

“don't care about the party," van replies.

"it's for ben. you like ben."

van snorts into her cup. “ben’s the reason i’ve got a roof over my head. doesn’t mean i want to drink stale cider in his honor.”

natalie gives her a long, level look. “you might want to reconsider.”

van blinks. “why?”

natalie shifts, setting down her glass with unusual care. she doesn’t meet van’s eyes right away. her voice, when she speaks again, is quieter than van’s used to hearing it.

“lottie had a vision.”

van’s body stiffens, the room suddenly feeling too quiet, like the wind outside took all the sound with it.

“what kind of vision?”

natalie draws in a slow breath. “she came to my place this morning. said she hadn’t slept all night. said she was shaking for hours. like… she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. just kept whispering the same thing over and over.”

van leans forward, her voice cracking. “what thing?”

natalie looks her in the eye. “she’s coming home.”

the words hit like a punch to the chest. van’s breath leaves her in a shudder. her hands tremble, barely noticeable, but she hides them anyway.

“you don’t know that’s what she meant,” she says, but it’s weak. she already knows it’s a lie.

natalie presses on. “lottie saw a crown. a girl with gold in her blood and dirt on her feet. she said she saw a forest and fire and a wolf crying in the dark.”

van swallows hard. “that could mean anything.”

“it could,” natalie agrees. “but it doesn’t. not this time.”

she leans forward, elbows on her knees. “she saw you, van. not the knight. not the armor. you. she said it felt like… like a wound healing too late. like the moon pulling the tide back in.”

van can’t speak. her throat’s gone tight, a strange pressure building behind her eyes. she bites it back. she’s so tired of crying.

“it’s been almost a year,” she whispers.

natalie nods. “i know.”

“she’s probably—” van stops herself. she’s said those words before. they always come out wrong. they always taste like ash.

but natalie just says gently, “she’s not. you don’t feel it?”

van blinks down at her boots. her voice is barely audible. “i feel everything.”

they sit in silence for a while. rain tapping against the windowpanes like fingers. the wind a low moan across the hills.

natalie nudges the wine bottle toward her. “if lottie’s right… if she’s really coming back, don’t you want to be there?”

van stares at the fireless hearth. at the ghost of your smile in the back of her mind.

she thinks of the way you used to look at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention. the way you always asked her questions no one else cared to answer—about the sky, about how far the sea was from the castle, about whether she thought it was possible to love someone you weren’t allowed to have.

she stands.

“i need to get cleaned up.”

natalie smirks. “so you are going to ben’s.”

van tosses her a look. “don’t make me change my mind.”

she pulls on her cloak, still damp from last week’s storm. her hands are steadier now, moving on instinct. her chest is tight, but it’s not the same kind of ache. it’s something brighter. fiercer. like the moment before a blade meets skin—sharp, burning, inevitable.

she doesn’t say your name.

but it’s all she’s thinking.

you’re coming back.

you’re coming back.

please be real.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you can’t remember the last time the stars felt close. not like they did at home, on the castle balcony, where van used to point out constellations with one hand while the other hovered nervously at your back, not quite brave enough to touch you.

here, in the middle of the bandit camp, they’re cold and far away. there’s smoke in the air, laughter from someone’s flask echoing off the trees. you’ve stopped asking when you’ll be let go. you’ve stopped believing it’ll ever happen.

and shauna… shauna watches you with that same unreadable look every night. like she’s waiting for something. like she’s weighing a scale that keeps tipping the wrong way.

she sits beside you now, closer than usual. the firelight flickers across her face, makes the years and bitterness look heavier. her hands are calloused. a scar slices through one of her knuckles. she smells like pine and steel.

“you remind me of her,” she says.

you don’t have to ask who she means.

you’ve heard the stories in pieces. from the others—misty, who has no tact; mari, who rolls her eyes but clearly still mourns; even akilah, who once drunkenly whispered, “you smile like jackie. it’s freaky.”

you found the locket in shauna’s tent, pried it open when no one was looking, and saw the miniature portrait.

jackie taylor.

your sister.

the locked confirmed the truth. she ran. for love. for shauna.

“she wasn’t delicate,” shauna says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “everyone thought she was. but she was fire. no one ever saw it but me.”

you glance at her. her eyes are glassy but sharp.

“i’m not trying to replace her,” you say quietly.

“i know.” shauna’s voice is dry. “but they were.”

you follow her gaze across the camp, to where misty is arguing with crystal over firewood. to where mari sharpens a blade like it’s therapy. they look at you too much. like you’re something broken they can fix. like maybe if they keep you long enough, jackie will come back in your skin.

“i didn’t ask for this,” you murmur.

shauna nods slowly. “neither did she.”

for a long time, the only sound is the crackling fire and the low murmur of the woods. shauna leans forward, picks up a stick, pokes at the flames like they personally offended her.

“she died in my arms,” she says suddenly. “we were trying to leave that winter. didn’t make it far before the storm hit. i begged her to turn back, but she said—”

her voice catches.

“she said she’d rather die free.”

you stare at her. “and you think i’m her.”

“no,” shauna says, and for once she looks directly at you. “i think you’re braver.”

it stuns you, the way your heart jumps. the way it hurts to hear that.

“i shouldn’t have kept you,” she adds, voice barely above a whisper. “i knew it the second i saw your eyes. you looked at me like i was your jailor.”

“aren’t you?”

shauna snorts. “not anymore.”

you blink. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” she says, pushing herself to her feet with a quiet groan, “you’re going home.”

your breath stutters. you stand too fast, dizziness tilting the trees sideways.

“why now?”

shauna doesn’t answer right away. she stares into the fire for a long time, like she’s trying to see something in it. maybe a memory. maybe jackie.

then she finally says, “because you deserve to be more than someone else’s ghost.”

and with that, she walks away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the castle hasn’t held a celebration in months. not like this.

banners fly from the towers, wine flows like water, and the ballroom is filled with laughter that doesn’t quite reach the edges. people are trying—they raise glasses, smile a little too hard, tell stories with too much volume. but it’s all stretched thin, like the walls themselves are holding their breath.

van’s been holding hers since she put on her best clothes, the ones lottie insisted she wear. a crisp tunic, polished boots, a dark cloak that still smells faintly of smoke. her armor is long gone—stripped from her along with her title—but she stands like she’s still wearing it, stiff and alert, a hand near her belt even though there’s no sword there anymore.

she shouldn’t be here.

but lottie had the vision. and when lottie has a vision, van listens.

now she stands in the corner of the ballroom, pretending not to scan every face that walks through the door. her jaw’s clenched. her fingers drum restlessly on the side of her wine glass.

she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

eleven months. eleven months without your laugh, your teasing questions, your dumb cloak that always trailed in puddles. eleven months of wondering if she failed you, if you hated her for letting you leave, if you died blaming her.

ben gives a speech from the dais. something about renewal and hope and the future of the kingdom. he doesn’t mention your name.

he doesn’t have to.

every person in the room is thinking about you anyway.

van steps out onto the balcony when the clapping starts, the air too heavy inside. she needs space. she needs—

“van?”

she turns.

and you’re standing at the top of the stone steps, framed by torchlight and stars, with your hood down and your hair tangled and your mouth parted like you weren’t sure she’d be real, either.

“hey,” you say, so quietly.

the glass slips from her hand and shatters on the floor.

it’s loud enough to draw attention.

gasps erupt behind her. one by one, the partygoers fall into stunned silence, their heads turning, their eyes widening.

it spreads like fire through dry grass—noblewomen pressing hands to their mouths, guards half-reaching for weapons before freezing in recognition, servants stumbling in place, stunned.

“it’s her,” someone whispers.

“the princess.”

“no, it can’t be—”

“oh gods, it’s really her—”

and before anyone can speak again, you’re running.

van meets you halfway.

you crash into her chest and she catches you like it’s instinct. her arms lock tight around your back, your cloak flares out behind you. she lifts you off your feet for a second. you’re shaking. so is she.

“i found you,” you breathe.

“you came back,” van says. “you came back to me.”

her voice cracks.

you hear a few more gasps from inside the ballroom. someone actually drops a tray. then—

applause.

it starts hesitant, awkward.

then it grows.

thunderous clapping shakes the ballroom floors. cheers rise like a tide. someone shouts your name, and another shouts van’s. there’s crying, even from people who’ve never spoken to you. you were gone for almost a year. your face was etched in stained glass and prayers.

you were a ghost.

now you’re here.

van presses her forehead to yours, whispering over the roar, “you okay with this?”

you nod against her, just once. “as long as you’re with me.”

she takes your hand. pulls you through the doors.

the crowd parts like waves before you.

people bow. they fall to their knees. a court lady starts sobbing.

and through it all, van stays right beside you. her grip never loosens. not once.

lottie steps forward from the front of the room, her eyes glassy, her smile warm. natalie stands behind her, stunned for once in her life, a half-drunk goblet forgotten in her hand.

lottie says, “the vision was true.”

you offer her the smallest nod of gratitude. she dips her head in return.

ben looks like he’s seen a ghost. you don’t stop to speak to him.

instead, van leans into your ear. “come with me.”

you let her pull you past the crowd, through a side door, down a hallway that’s quieter, darker. the celebration fades behind you, muffled by stone.

she pushes open a smaller door—a forgotten sitting room near the old library—and guides you inside.

you both stand there, finally still.

“i didn’t know if you were dead,” van says, not looking at you yet. “or worse. i didn’t know if you hated me.”

you shake your head, stepping closer. “i thought about you every night.”

“i looked for you every day.”

she sits on the arm of an old velvet chair, gripping the edge like it might anchor her.

“i got stripped of my title,” she says. “when your father gave up the search. he said he was sorry, but that i’d failed.”

your eyes blur. you go to her, falling to your knees in front of where she sits.

“you didn’t fail me.”

“i let you go.”

“you let me dream.”

she meets your gaze for the first time since the ballroom.

“you were the only one who ever treated me like i was more than a precious thing in a glass case,” you say. “you let me want things.”

“i loved you for it,” van murmurs. “gods, i still do.”

you reach for her hand. slide your fingers between hers.

“i think i always loved you,” you whisper. “i just didn’t understand it yet.”

the quiet stretches between you.

then van leans forward, forehead pressed to yours.

“i don’t want to miss any more time with you.”

“you won’t.”

she kisses you again, softer this time. reverent. like a vow.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, you both feel like you’re home.

💌 taglist: @callsignwidow, @freakyjorker, @imlike-so-gaydude, @yellowjacketsslvt69, @moonwateraura, @gracynparsons, @casualclamturkey, @crainalley0227, @auroraseddie

[wileys-russo]

the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso

its missing jenni hours, little mini series incoming the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso

"sí sí sí i am forever in your debt león. happy?" you laughed, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder as you weighed your carry on, breathing a sigh of relief when it didn't breach the limit for your flight.

"i will be happy when you finally come home!" your best friend whined making you roll your eyes. "my ass is on its way maría, and tu culo better pick me up later!" you warned, muting her for a moment as you stepped up to the front desk and gave your details, boarding pass printed and handed over.

"no i am not thanking you, i was getting my boarding pass. my stuff is all accounted for sí? it arrived safely?" you frowned in worry, this entire process having been anything but smooth.

"sí amiga, just like i told you yesterday and every other day you've asked everything is in boxes ready to be unpacked once you move, and there is just a few things and files and boxes still in storage at your old place in the garage." mapi promised as you exhaled, hovering by the security check knowing you'd need to hang up before going through, promising mapi to call her the moment you landed before ending the call.

you'd grown up in zaragoza, a few houses down from the dirty blonde you'd been practically attached to like a siamese twin almost your whole life. as you got older you'd moved to madrid to go to university, and then to barcelona for better career opportunities once you graduated.

though for the last three years you'd been living in portugal, a dream job when it arose far too tempting to pass as much as it hurt you to move away from your life, friends and family all still scattered around spain.

you of course returned home to visit but once you'd fallen in love the visits had been few and far between, your life becoming split in two as you had anchors tying you down in either country, admittedly maybe allowing the one in portugal a little too much influence.

which is why it hurt so much when that anchor was suddenly cut loose, almost drowning you in the aftermath of what you'd describe as your first real heartbreak.

so licking your wounds you found yourself with a choice, to stay and soldier through the tattered remains of your life in portugal or retreat back to spain with your tail between your legs and into the arms of the rest of your support circle.

the choice was one you probably made a little too fast once your best friend sweet talked the right people and popped up on her weekend off with a job offer and a plan, more than ready to drag you back home.

it hadn't been the easiest of processes, you'd given your two weeks in at your job which turned into four and then into six so you could adequately train your replacement and smoothly handover your client list.

right after the breakup mapi had convinced you to let her rent out your old place in barcelona for some extra income while you weren't sure how long you'd still be in portugal, your now ex quite the well respected lawyer meant you'd come off with much less than you deserved in assets after the split.

you were crashing with a coworker and slowly shipping your belongings home to meet you whenever you could finally leave all this mess behind you.

though really your old place was too large for just you and though you were returning home you wanted a fresh start which meant a new place, mapi offering for you to stay with her while you searched for the right one.

between her and her girlfriend they technically had an apartment each in the same building, though they spent majority of their time in ingrids which was set up best, mapi's used more as a storage locker which is why she was more than happy to let you stay there temporarily.

and with all sorts of tourists flocking to the warm beaches of barcelona for the summer it made sense that you wring out a little extra money from your old place before putting it on the market.

so now finally free from all that tied you to portugal bar a few friendships you suspected may eventually die out with the distance, and almost all of your belongings safely back in spain, it was time for you to join them.

"estás bromeando." you snickered in disbelief as you exited the terminal, spotting the sign and balloons right away and praying they weren't for you. but of course knowing your family, no such luck.

"i am suddenly wishing i lied about which flight i took." you called out with a shake of your head, a cheeky grin and a blur of tattoos and tan skin darting in front of you before a body was slamming you nearly to the ground.

"hola amiga." you exhaled happily, squeezing the footballer just as tightly as you gave her girlfriend a wave who was hanging back with a smile. "mejor amiga." mapi corrected, pulling away and sloppily kissing your cheek making you grimace and push her away.

"you drove all the way here to pick me up? i told you i could come see you on the weekend!" you laughed at your parents, knowing it was almost a four hour journey from your childhood home where they still lived to the airport they were stood in now.

"it has been many years we have prayed for this day hija, let us enjoy it." your mami smiled warmly as you hugged them both next, exhaling happily at the rapid spanish which floated around the air.

you greeted ingrid next, having met the girl many times despite no longer living here, often teasing your best friend that should they break up you'd actually take ingrids side since she was so lovely, but really you adored seeing her so loved up and well treated by the norweigan.

"welcome home from prison? maría!" you groaned, the defender hiding behind her girlfriend making both yours and ingrids eyes roll. "it was his idea!" her finger reached around and pointed to your papi who shrugged with a smile that said it all.

~

"and you told her i was coming to grab some things?" you clarified with mapi who hummed in confirmation. the footballer had been doing the majority of the communication with your tenant in your old place considering until now you'd been in another country and she had set the whole thing up anyway.

you'd tried to offer her some money for all of her help which all that earned you was a firm punch to the arm and a warning not to be stupid, reminding you that family always helps family and doesn't expect anything in return.

"sí sí she said she wouldn't be home anyway, and you are only needing to access the garage so you will not be entering the house." mapi assured as you nodded, telling her to text you what she wanted you to grab from the market on your way back before ending the call.

stupidly mislabeling a few boxes had meant you were missing a large amount of clothing, and though both ingrid and mapi assured you were free to wear anything of theirs you already felt like you were asking too much of them staying with them anyway.

besides a lot of your more work appropriate clothes were what was missing and due to start this new role in a few days time and anything but a patient woman you were quite eager to get your ducks in a line.

"oh come on!" you grunted, having twisted the key in the garage door but struggling to pull it open, something that had pained you for years. a waterfall of curse words fell from your lips as your frustration grew and you strained to tug it open, hope fasting fading.

"you know robbers do not usually make so much noise?" you jumped at a voice behind you, dropping the door and spinning around with a startled expression.

"lo siento. i am not a robber, i am-" you tried to explain but the taller girl waved off your words. "the owner, sí? i spoke to mapi this morning." she smiled charmingly, pearly white teeth bared in amusement.

"i am jenni, your tenant." she added on with a grin holding out a heavily tattooed hand as you nodded in understanding and properly introduced yourself. "trouble with the door? there is a trick." she held up a finger and nodding for you to move aside.

you frowned curiously but did as she asked, watching as she twisted the key and popped her shoulder into the door, your eyebrows shooting up nearly as fast as the door was opened. "fácil!" she winked and gestured inside.

"i lived here for nearly five years and-" you mumbled with an annoyed huff. "-and i live here for a few weeks and know all the tricks." jenni laughed, hovering just outside as you squatted down and began to move through boxes.

"something like that." you sent her a smile over your shoulder. "i promise i will get everything out soon, my car is still in portugal and its the last thing to come back and-" you stopped yourself realizing a complete stranger would be the last person to care.

"and i do not need to be wasting more of your time, lo siento." you shook your head, finding the box you needed and tugging it up and out. "no need to apologise. you are from barcelona?" jenni asked curiously as you shook your head.

"zaragoza, but i have been living in portugal for the last few years." you answered with a polite smile. "mm then how did you end up with a house in barcelona?" jenni questioned, lips curled upward and eyes scanning you up and down.

"my mami taught me not to talk to strangers." you teased making her laugh. "so did mine but here i am letting one into my garage." jenni pointed out as you now laughed. "my garage, technically." you shrugged, noticing a large motorcycle in the corner of the garage.

"pulling the landlord card querida? vale vale. well i have paperwork we both signed though that says for another four and a half months it is my garage." jenni reminded with a grin to which you couldn't argue.

"do you ride?" you asked nodding curiously toward the bike. "what happened to not talking to strangers? i cannot ask how you ended up in barcelona but you can ask me about my bike?" jenni gasped mockingly as you rolled your eyes.

"well you just answered my question anyway." you smiled picking up the box of clothes and moving back outside as jenni effortlessly reached up and grabbed the roller door to bring it back down, something you needed a ladder for which was oddly attractive.

jenni herself was quite attractive, the way her bright eyes followed you and rose pink links curved into an alluring smile, not to mention each of her long limbs covered in even more tattoos than mapi as she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a plain white oversized shirt.

you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a second stranger who came storming out of the house, flipping the girl in front of you off and practically diving into a car speeding away making you frown as the other girl in front of you rolled her eyes.

"friend of yours?" you asked with a raised eyebrow as jenni shrugged. "something like that. would you like to come in for a drink?" the abruptness of her question catching you off guard as you opened and closed your mouth.

"i don't think-" you started, placing down the box as jenni cut you off. "you know if you have a drink with me, i will not be a stranger anymore. didn't your mami also teach you about manners and hospitality?" jenni challenged making you scoff but smile.

"my plans for the evening just ditched me, i already started dinner. it is rude to make someone eat and drink alone you know!" jenni tutted, stepping forward and picking up the box for you before you could protest.

"vamos, i promise i am a good cook and an even better host."

~

and as you woke up that next morning in a bedroom both familiar and unfamiliar, you knew her words to be true.

you could smell coffee as you rubbed your eyes and sat up, you heard the door open and tugged the covers up to hide your naked chest, jenni strolling in with a steaming mug.

"how did you know?" you smiled, always starting your day with coffee as the taller girl gave you an add look. "how did i know i wanted coffee?" she chuckled taking a sip as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your assumption.

"what time is it?" you asked with a stretch, bending down and snaking your shirt from the floor, slipping it over your head. "eleven, you really slept in." jenni hummed, leaning against the doorframe as bright green eyes drunk you in.

"sorry." you chuckled, completely missing the slightly awkward silence in the air as jenni stepped forward. "your box of stuff is by the door, get dressed and you should go." the girl shrugged, turning on heel and heading out of the room as your mouth opened in shock.

none the less you hurried to collect your clothes, pulling them on and following after her.

"you know landlords should not really sleep with tenants." jenni tutted with a smirk, pulling herself up and onto the counter as you forced your eyes not to roam her half naked body, flashes of last night where it was pressed against you flickering through your mind.

you scoffed and crossed your arms, opening your mouth to let her have it but she spoke first. "whats wrong bebé? not the normal coffee and breakfast waiting for you afterwards that you are used to? i am not that type of girl." jenni chuckled sipping from her mug.

"but last night we talked about so many things and-" "had sex? sí, and we both got something out of that no? now you should really go, technically a landlord cannot be here without the tenants permission." jenni smirked as you could only scoff.

not gracing her with another word you turned on heel and headed for the front door, hearing her footsteps pad after you as you made a swift exit. you paused as you heard a sharp whistle, slowly turning around.

"did you just whistle at me like a dog?" you asked in disbelief crossing your arms and making her chuckle where she leaned against the door. "you forgot your box." she nodded downward at her feet as you stiffened, swallowing your pride and making your way back toward her.

you glared at her as she simply smiled charmingly, sipping at her coffee as you picked up the box and turned again, storming down the path.

though a second wind brewing as you reached the end you shook your head, spinning to give her a piece of your mind but it was too late, the front door already clicking closed as you heard the turn of the lock.

"puta."

[windixie]

the perfect pair ⟢ ch. 1 broken cd

satoru gojo x reader ꒰18+꒱ smut, angst, fluff

⟡ pairing . college au soccer player! gojo x alt! reader

› summary . in which opposites actually attract. you're not the kind of girl who seeks validation from anyone as your world is surrounded by indie films, music, and clothing. meanwhile, satoru lives in a completely different world from you. the campus soccer star who practically radiates confidence and popularity. but that doesn't stop satoru from attempting to throw himself at you, with his playful grins and teasing but loving comments. but before you can accept his advances, a certain party exposes who he truly is and now he is left determined to change himself for you.

› warnings ⓘ tags . 18+, fem! reader, smut, angst, fluff, college au (have syracuse university in mind), friends to lovers (reader hates him, he thinks otherwise), slow burn, jealousy, some suguru x reader because he doesn't respect bro code or wtv.

› wc . 1.1k

⟡ taglist . @unreleasedlana11

cd's are actually expensive.

well at least for you actually, only because you happen to listen to artists that are no longer active and have to buy discontinued cd's through sketchy websites that definitely overcharge. you couldn't judge though, easy money for the seller. your bank account disagrees.

you promise yourself that this will be the last cd you buy - till you're financially stable again. the disc nearly cost you 60 bucks plus taxes and shipping, 80.99. that greedy seller. regardless you were happy especially when you got the notification from the app telling you that your order has arrived.

at your college you had to walk all the way towards the front where the school mailboxes were located. the second you stepped foot outside your dorm, which, thankfully you had all to yourself because for some reason you weren't assigned a roommate, you are hit with the sound of cheering. the soccer team has just returned from a tournament.

including satoru gojo.

you knew of the boy. you knew he was the most known player in the school. and i'm not just talking about soccer. in each frat party he has to get in at least two bodies. he has a whole line of girls patiently waiting for their turn to warm up the white haired boys bed.

he's everything.. you hated in a guy.

how do girls go crazy over him? he's deadass the most basic boy you are sure each college in the state has. but you couldn't help but stay a bit to watch as all the boys make their way through the applauding crowd. a new face emerged from the bus, all looking proud. they must've won.

you were pulled away from your thoughts when his face appeared. suguru. he was best friends with gojo. you can't help but stare. his piercings, long hair, style that was different from the rest, just like you. it's hard to not notice him.

you almost don't realize who's looking at you instead. your eyes meet with satoru for a brief moment before you continue making your way to the central mail room, not allowing your brain to even process the eye contact.

as he made his way out the busy, satoru is met with a crowd of students cheering. he smirks as he kept the conversation going with his friends. he knows how attractive he is. not every one is 'blessed' to have a body count of half the schools girl population.

he knows how good he is. so why is it that when his eyes land on you, his heart skips a beat. he's never seen you before, why now? why does he like the way your hair frames your face so beautifully and the way your outfit compliments your body so well?

he felt his world stop for just a second when your eyes finally met his. a split second.

you unlocked your assigned mailbox after reaching the central. other students were there as well looking at letters from their family back at home or the same reason as you, a package. your eyes lit up as you took out the perfectly wrapped cd. .

not wasting one more second, you carefully unwrap it. here it is, finally in your hands after a month of waiting and two days worth of hard labor. the light reflected like heaven itself shining upon you from the glossy surface. you flipped it over, reading through the track list as you locked your mailbox once again not even bothering to check if there's any other letters in your box.

right as you turned, you bumped into something hard, causing your cd to slip from your hands, the sound of it hitting the floor haunting you.

it broke.

and so did your heart.

no. no way.

a month of waiting. money wasted. just for the cd to slip right out your hands.

okay you're being dramatic, it obviously didn't break. but the impact caused the case to open once it fell on the floor. the cd might just have a few scratches. one scratch is one scratch too many though.

"shit, sorry about that."

you lifted up your head to look at the one responsible for this.

satoru.

the satoru himself was in front of you giving you another reason to dislike him. he looked at you with his eyes widening a bit. its you. the girl he saw from earlier. he crouched down, placing his bag on the ground next to his feet to pick up your disc, carefully placing it back in the case. definitely not a band he was familiar with.

he handed it back to you, his hand touching yours slightly.

"here pretty, am sorry again."

your eyes narrowed. "It’s fine," you said, trying to keep your cool. "Not like you can fix it."

his eyes watched you push past him and they trailed past you until you were out of his view.

he finally got the chance to talk to you which he's been wanting to do since he's know you which was only like 20 minutes.

he couldn't help but smile to himself as he opened up his own mailbox, stuffed with fan mail.

a few scratches as you suspected. it shouldn't affect your listening experience.

you placed the now damaged disc in your cd player which was gifted to you by your parents on your sixteenth birthday. the music filled up your room in a nice and warm space.

you sank down on your mattress closing your eyes to enjoy the listening experience. no amount of scratched could ruin this.

they did.

your eyes shot open as the cd started to tweak out not even three minutes into the track list. guess the damage really was done. its all his fault. satoru gojo.

"no..please.." you begged taking out the cd to look at it again seeing that you missed a crack running right through it.

it was all his fault. you barely knew him but now that you had your first ever encounter you had all the reason to despise him. there's no way you will be able to listen to your 80.99 worth cd with there being glitching every other song.

you couldn’t shake the image of satoru standing there, his awkward attempt at helping, the way his gaze had softened for a brief moment. you'd make him buy you a new one, that being if the discontinued cd was even out there anymore.

what if you bought the last one ever?

you groaned into your pillow.

that's it you're throwing a bf.

a bitch fit.

[fuckedupwizard]

even though it's genuinely infuriating and hypocritical, as a Shen Jiu Stan TM i've come to acknowledge that sv fans will regularly make "REMINDER shen jiu is a bitter/hateful/abusive person who CHOSE to be miserable" (the latter point is very like. What. Bc he obviously did not choose to be abused/abandoned etc but whatever) while never making those posts about binghe or even actively denying his abuses of other people... i've even seen people refer to him as a good person, while - judging them by the criteria you judge shen jiu - bingmei is actually still a bad one and bingge ESPECIALLY is! and then claiming that shen jiu stans don't acknowledge his Inherent Badness or love him for who he is. lmao.

BUT the most egregious claim of all about shen jiu that i've seen is that he was somehow abusive to yue qingyuan? and i've been a yue qingyuan defender since 2018! i've been in the trenches for this guy! qijiu is THE sv ship for me! i have a lot of sympathy for yqy and understanding of his trauma, and i understand how much shen jiu seeming to hate him must have hurt him. he's a blorbo to me. BUT it's not abusive to not want to be around someone or to avoid them, i'm sorry. shen jiu was hurt first, by his belief that yue qingyuan abandoned him to be abused or even killed, and as a result of that he stopped wanting to be around or talk to yqy unless he had to, and when he has to, as they're coworkers, he's very frostily polite and taciturn. he's not even mean to him!!! because he understands the dynamics of the sect and that yqy is the leader!!! he's just cold. even as disciples the only 'mean' things he says are that he doesn't want yqy to talk to him unless he gives him an explanation, and that he doesn't want to be called "xiao jiu" ever again. it might be harsh, but at the end of the day it's literally just him asserting his own boundaries, and yqy gets this bc as much as it may hurt him to hear it, he respects them! HE understands that if he's allowed to keep the boundary of not telling sj why he didn't come back, sj is also allowed to keep boundaries that keep yqy from interacting with him in an intimate or casual manner. somehow to the "remember shen jiu is to blame for all his own pain" people, this is cruel on sj's part, but sj being led to believe the one person who loved him actually never did and would happily leave him to rot as an abused slave is not cruel.

also we should remember that even when shen jiu is genuinely furious with yqy bc of the level of his hurt, he is not honest with himself about how he truly feels. he thinks once, as a teenager in probably the most painful moment of his life (and this is someone who has been abused every single way), that he'd rather find out yqy died than find out he became successful and happy and Chose to leave sj there. and he uses this momentary thought he had Once to remind himself over and over that he's inherently rotten and a bad person who just wants to drag yqy down and doesn't want to see him happy... yet on THREE occassions when he sees yqy in imminent harm, his immediate reaction is to jump in and save him (or attempt to) at the risk of his own life. when faced with the prospect of yqy dying because of his allegiance to sj, shen jiu doesn't display hatred or jealousy or revenge but accepts that his true feelings all along have been: he doesn't want yue qingyuan to die or suffer, especially not for him, he regrets meeting him only because he hates that he has had a negative effect on yqy's life, and he doesn't blame yue qingyuan for leaving him behind after all. shen jiu is outwardly cold to yue qingyuan but actually shows him a huge amount of love and loyalty. luo binghe, shen jiu's most obvious parallel in the story and the one commonly treated as 'better' than him (bingmei ver at least) lashes out and reacts with actual cruelty at shen yuan's perceived abandonment of him (when healing sy with the blood parasites i remember him purposefully causing him pain to try to torture answers out of him) but people will immediately jump to deny that he has ever or would ever abuse sy.

[messymoonmad]

Hi, this is the first time I've sent an ask here on Tumblr so I'm a little (Very) nervous but anyway I just love your art, I love with all my strength your antinous and telemachus design. I recently saw on your blog about the Amphinomus x Telemachus ship and I thought well, it's been a while since I wrote it last time so I decided to make a mine oneshot.

(I'm Brazilian so maybe some things I write don't make sense, but I hope you can understand)

The great hall of Ithaca’s palace buzzed with noise. Goblets of wine clinked, laughter echoed too loudly, and the scent of roasted meat mixed with the fresh flowers Penelope insisted on replacing every day.

To Telemachus, it was hell.

He leaned against one of the marble columns, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room with barely concealed distaste. And yet, despite himself, his gaze kept drifting back to Antinous—the worst of his mother’s suitors.

And still, Telemachus couldn’t help it. The confidence, the way Antinous spoke, the sharp smirk on his lips… it was hypnotizing. Disgusting. And it made Telemachus feel sick.

—You really enjoy suffering, huh?

The voice was quiet, amused.Amphinomus had appeared beside him, leaning casually against the same column.

Telemachus flinched, tearing his eyes away from Antinous as if he’d been caught committing a crime.

—What do you mean?

—You look at him like you're under a spell, but also like you want to rip his head off. I can’t tell if I should feel sorry for you or laugh.

Amphinomus grinned, and Telemachus felt a strange warmth in his chest.

He was different from the others. Though he had grown up alongside Antinous and Eurymachus, he never seemed as cruel.

—I hate him. — Telemachus muttered.

—Then why do you keep looking at him like that?

Telemachus had no answer.

Later that night, Amphinomus sat beside Antinous and Eurymachus, half-listening to their drunken chatter—until something made his blood freeze.

—That brat is a nuisance,— Antinous sneered. Once he returns from his little voyage, we kill him. And the queen...

Eurymachus chuckled, raising his goblet.

—She won’t have a choice. She’ll be ours, whether she wants it or not.

Amphinomus felt his stomach turn.

He looked at his childhood friends and, for the first time, truly saw the darkness in them.

This wasn’t right.

Without thinking, he shot to his feet and strode out of the hall. No one seemed to notice his sudden departure, but he couldn’t care less. His steps carried him straight to Telemachus’s chambers, where he knocked frantically.

The door opened, revealing a drowsy and confused Telemachus.

—Amphinomus? What’s wrong?

Amphinomus swallowed hard.

—They’re going to kill you.

Telemachus’s confusion vanished, replaced by shock.

—What?

—They’re planning your murder. And… and something worse for your mother.

The color drained from Telemachus’s face.

—You… you’re joking, right?

— Do I look like I’m joking? — Amphinomus’s voice cracked.You have to leave, or prepare to fight. But you can’t let them catch you off guard.

Silence.

Then, to Amphinomus’s surprise, Telemachus stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder.

—Thank you.

Before Amphinomus could react, he felt something soft against his cheek.

A kiss.

His face immediately turned scarlet.

—Telemachus?

The prince only smiled—one of those rare, genuine smiles.

—You're the only one of them with honor.

Amphinomus opened his mouth, but no words came out. His heart pounded like a war drum, and he stood there, frozen, feeling the warmth of the kiss linger on his skin.

He was happy as hell.

OOOOH STOP WHY IS THIS SO GOOOD !!! the comic artist in me is SCREAMING for me to turn this into a comic but my schedule would not allow it. DAMN IT !! I LOVE THIS SM AAAAAH 5 stars 10/10 YES!!! the way you wrote telemachus ??? The way you wrote amphin omg it was SPOT ON.

[borathae]

Boyfriends? | JJK x MYG

“Yoongi doesn’t do labels, while Jungkook loves labels. So one night, he asks Yoongi ‘what are we?’, hoping that the last four years together weren’t just casual for him.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: established relationship!AU, Fluff, Slice of Life, slight suggestive themes

Warnings: just some anxious thoughts, this is a post sex cuddles scene, Koo being a little brat, Yoongi being a fond brat tamer, he tickles him hehe, snuggles & kisses, also! mention of blood drinking as part of his training to become a good vampire <3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on an alternative fictional universe and does not correlate with any real life people. I do not support the shipping of the actual members.

Wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: i love sanguis!yoonkook so much :( omfg this hurt me because i just love them so much and my heart exploded :( istfg this break was so good for me, i have so many new ideas already heheh i can't wait to bring a very lore-y multi chaptered fic very soon hoohoh <3 but for now enjoy this lil yoonkoo fluff <3 also! whenever i write something for them just know that i am channeling hyyh!yoonkook 💔

Yoongi doesn’t define his sexuality. Neither his romantic attraction. He thinks that it is a rather stupid thing to do. He never truly understood the appeal of it nor felt it necessary to do.

“Why should I put a label on myself just so other people are satisfied?”

Because that is what it is for him. Satisfaction of other people. He should put himself into a box just so they can sleep better at night. Well, fuck them. Yoongi is way too old to live for strangers. He knows what he likes and other people can get fucked. They’ll find out who he likes when he allows it.

Jungkook defines his sexuality. And his romantic attraction. For most of his life, he felt like he didn’t belong. Into society, into groups, into life. So learning control and finally being able to be part of something again, Jungkook also feels it important to define who he is.

“I can finally be part of a group. I’m so happy.”

Because that’s what he is these days. Happy. A very happy bisexual man who doesn’t care about the gender of his lovers and who falls for personality.

And so it happens that “I hate labels”-Yoongi and “I love my label”-Jungkook are dating. At least Jungkook thinks that they are. They never really defined it – put a label on it so to speak.

But it must be that they are dating. After all, they are sharing a blanket as they are relaxing in front of the fireplace. They each only wear boxers and a tanktop which in itself is such an intimate look to share. The rug under their bodies is soft and heaps of pillows surround them.

Yoongi is using a few of them to keep himself propped up as he writes anecdotes in the book he is reading. Jungkook is lying on his tummy, watching the flames dance. Music is playing. Lofi hip-hop. Sometimes, he feels Yoongi’s fingertips dance down his back. It makes him shiver every time it happens. Jungkook feels exhausted, but he can’t fall asleep.

He flips his head to the other side, looking up at Yoongi.

The latter notices and gives him a glance. He runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, making him shudder in a good way.

“How is your head doing?” he asks.

“Heavy.”

“But no pain?”

He shakes it, “no, just so heavy. Hyung, it’s so heavy a-and I’m so tired.”

“Relax, bub. That’s normal.”

Yoongi is Jungkook’s mentor. Before Yoongi, Jungkook was unable to exist within the human world because he would have ripped through anything that breathed. With Yoongi’s help, he learned how to be normal again and because the road to perfection wasn’t finished yet, they used tonight to train.

“You are ready for the next step in mastering your urges”, Yoongi told him and then monitored Jungkook as he drank from a blood bag filled with human blood.

Up until this point, they merely trained with animal blood. At first Jungkook was very confused, “but I thought that I shouldn’t drink human blood? At all. Never.”

To which Yoongi assured him, “completely staying away from it, will only do the opposite. You need to learn how to handle it, so that if you accidentally drink it, you don’t become violent.”

With Yoongi’s reassurance, Jungkook choked down the blood deliciously and if it wasn’t for the older vampire, he would have lost control.

But he didn’t. Yoongi took his mind off of it in the typical, amazing way Yoongi often takes Jungkook’s mind off the bloodlust. And Jungkook wanted it. It felt so good. Quite frankly, he didn’t want it to stop.

Yoongi pulls his hand back and continues to scribble in his book. Jungkook is thinking. Yoongi calls him bub and bun and Kookie, but does it mean anything? Yoongi allows him to cuddle into him, but does he want the same? Yoongi fucks him, but does the sex even mean anything to him?

It has been two years since the world became peaceful and four years since they met and not once has this relationship been defined. Yoongi doesn’t call Jungkook his boyfriend. He calls him “my boy” or “my Kookie.” But never my boyfriend. What if he is just a good friend to him? What if Yoongi doesn’t want to put a label on them?

“Yoongi?”

“Yes, bub?”

“Are we dating?”

Yoongi lowers the book, “what do you mean?”

“Am I your boyfriend?”

Yoongi widens his eyes, blinking them in confusion.

“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

“Just feeling anxious.”

“Jungkookie, hey”, Yoongi softens his voice, “just relax. You’re okay, everything will be okay.”

“Please don’t avoid my question”, Jungkook insists anxiously. Is this it? Four years of intimacy, of building trust and bonding and it never meant the same to Yoongi?

“Of course you’re my boyfriend.”

Jungkook’s chest instantly stops tightening. His body tingles.

“You silly boy, do you seriously think I’m like this with someone I’m not dating?”

“You’re a really kind person.”

Yoongi chuckles, eyes soft in adoration. He pinches Jungkook’s cheek.

“You little bun, that’s not the same.”

“We never made it official.”

“I didn’t think it necessary. I thought it was pretty clear that we are dating once this”, he gestures between them, “became regular.”

“I guess, but I was thinking. About labels and how you hate them and yeah. I got scared that we aren’t official for you.”

“We are.” Yoongi pushes the pillows aside and lies down to face Jungkook. He tugs a strand of hair behind his ear. “If I’m not showing it enough for you, you have to tell me. I’m not good with reading signs or getting hidden messages. You gotta tell me directly what you want.”

“I know.”

“So? Do you want me to show it more?”

“No, you’re showing me that you love me. I think I just needed to hear it tonight.”

“I understand. You can tell me if you need that. You know me, I’m not gonna recite love poems to you on my own.”

Jungkook chuckles, “I know you, hyung. I think it’s cute.”

Yoongi grimaces. “If you say so.”

“I do. You are so cute.”

Yoongi chuckles, “you’re aware that I rearranged your insides just moments prior?”

“I know.” Jungkook closes his eyes and settles into the pillow. “Only cute people can do that.”

Yoongi laughs, “okay, okay you’re being an idiot. I get it”, he says, leaning in to kiss the shell of Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook relaxes his muscles, enjoying the soft tingles rising all over his skin as Yoongi kisses every inch of his upper back. His face next. Jungkook rolls to his back so Yoongi can reach it better. Their eyes meet. Yoongi cups his cheek and kisses him. Jungkook seriously thinks that it feels so much better now that he knows it’s official. Every second, every moment, every touch exists to strengthen their relationship as boyfriends. Seriously, if Jungkook’s heart was still beating, it would race like crazy.

He giggles. Yoongi smiles.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’m happy.”

Yoongi kisses him with a smile before he begins littering his face with kisses.

“I’m happy too, bub.”

“Oh, Yoongi”, Jungkook lets out and unable to control the surge of happiness, he shoots up to take Yoongi into the tightest hug human- and vampirekind has ever seen.

“Okay. This is happening”, Yoongi chuckles, letting it happen without hugging him back. It’s not because he doesn’t want to, but simply because Jungkook is squeezing his arms against his sides.

“I love you so much”, Jungkook giggles, shaking Yoongi from left and right.

“I love you too, but please stop that”, Yoongi laughs, head thrown back and bouncing around.

“No. You’re my stim toy”, Jungkook says and squeezes him tighter, making a cute sound for it.

“Whatever that is”, Yoongi laughs, taking the squeezing until it starts hurting. Then he begins to fight back. Softly of course, finally using his strength to shove Jungkook’s arms open.

“How are you doing that?” Jungkook gasps, trying with all his might to bear hug Yoongi again, but it is useless.

“I’m the strongest, remember?”

Jungkook’s back hits the rug, his wrists get pinned by one hand. Yoongi looks at him as if he wanted to take him to euphoria and back. Just for a second because then pure mischief burns in his eyes. Jungkook feels said mischief very soon as Yoongi begins tickling his sensitive side.

“No! Stop! Hyung please stop”, Jungkook squeals, laughing so loudly it bounces off the walls. He tries to fight his wrists free, kicking his feet helplessly. But it is useless. Yoongi is stronger and he is hellbent on getting Jungkook back for always being a little brat.

“Hyung I’m sorry”, Jungkook laughs, crying tears.

“Not enough”, Yoongi coos, changing sides.

“Ah! Please I’m gonna pee myself, stop! Please”, Jungkook squeals, laughing oh so much that his mouth truly cannot open any further.

“Mhm, alright”, Yoongi rasps and stops. He lets go of his wrists, sliding his hands to the smallest part of his waist to hold him. Somehow in their tickle match, Yoongi slid between Jungkook’s legs. They are thrown over his lap, resting their weight on him.

Jungkook recovers with little gasps and gulps. The first thing he does is wipe the tears from his blushy cheeks then he pouts at Yoongi.

“This was totally not necessary and very mean.”

Yoongi chuckles, “for all the bratting you did this week? It’s a mild punishment.”

Jungkook pouts harder, “I can’t help it. Besides, you’re too sensitive. I’m not even bratting.”

“Careful”, Yoongi squeezes Jungkook’s waist. The latter squeals and writhes.

“Sorry.”

“Better.” Yoongi smiles, bending down. His hands run along Jungkook’s torso until he has to rest them on each side of his head. “You’re so fucking pliable.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook sighs, melting into a puddle.

Like this. Underneath Yoongi and with his head foggy in feel good emotions, Jungkook gets kissed. He wraps his limbs around Yoongi and deepens the kiss. This might be one of the best nights of his life. He is his boyfriend. And now he is making out with him. This is the best night ever.

[stllmnstr]

easy mode

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: brother's best friend au

word count: 2.9k

warnings: not explicit but veeeery suggestive, alcohol consumption, swearing, lots and lots of jealousy aka very bthb coded

note: Another reupload! I wrote another ~3k of sacred monsters today and saw this in my drafts and realized I never posted it. If you read it before, I hope you like it just as much! If you haven't, I hope you enjoy!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung likes to do things the easy way. 

It’s not that he’s lazy, just... efficient. A fan of the path of least resistance. He knows how to pick his battles and does so sparingly. 

Heeseung minds his own business, keeps his eyes on the path in front of him and rarely lets them stray. And he definitely, definitely never pokes his nose into other people’s problems. 

It’s a philosophy that keeps his head on straight, that allows his friendships to remain low-maintenance and sans drama. It’s what’s kept Jay at his side for the last fifteen years, even through the trials and tribulations of elementary school playground altercations, puberty-fueled fights in the middle school locker room, and most recently, the frustrating misalignment of their post-graduation work schedules. 

Four years ago, Heeseung thought a bachelor’s degree would be his ticket to success, not a soul-sucking nine-to-five that leaves him itching for a drink or three most Friday nights. Luckily for him, Jay’s in the same boat. 

But tonight, sitting next to his best friend on his favorite slightly wobbly bar stool, Heeseung almost misses the monotony of their usual Friday evening happy hours. 

He’s nursing his third beer, which would usually go down like cold water, even though time and tipsiness have turned it lukewarm. Tonight, though, Heeseung’s eyes keep wandering towards the same corner table just over Jay’s shoulder. 

And every time they do, the muscle in his jaw strains a little further. The beer on his tongue tastes a little more bitter. 

Heeseung hates making things complicated. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t. But–

“Are you gonna do something about that?”

On the adjacent bar stool, Jay glances at Heeseung. “About what?” 

Heeseung just keeps his eyes trained on that table, that spot over Jay’s shoulder. 

Picking up on the hint even through the pleasant haze in his mind, Jay turns his gaze to follow Heeseung’s nonverbal cue. It takes him only a matter of seconds to locate what has his best friend in such a mood. Or rather, who. Although Jay isn’t quite sure why. 

He’s digging for clarification when he looks back at his friend. “What do you mean? Did she do something weird?” It wouldn’t be exactly unlike his younger sister to do something slightly embarrassing in public. 

Heeseung’s jaw just tightens further, betraying annoyance. Finally, he puts words to his irritation, saves Jay from his suspense. “You’re gonna let that idiot put his hands all over your little sister in the middle of the bar?”

Jay frowns, turns over his shoulder once again to make sure he isn’t seeing things. 

He’s not. From this angle, at least, Sunghoon’s hands are at a perfectly respectable distance from you. Not that Jay could do much about it either way. 

He tells Heeseung as much. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her out by her ear and force her to join a convent? Ship her off to a girls only boarding school?” 

Jay laughs humorlessly. He’s not exactly thrilled that you and your friends chose to patronize the same bar as him and Heeseung tonight, but he doesn’t want to linger on it either. In fact, he doesn’t want to do anything but forget his woes this evening, drown his sorrows in overpriced pints of whatever’s on tap. 

He’s perfectly happy with his back turned towards you. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. “She’s twenty-two.”

And that wasn’t what Heeseung was suggesting exactly, but now that Jay mentions it…

“You’re okay with Park trying to play tonsil tennis with her then?”

“Dude,” Jay winces, setting his beer down on the bar, stomach suddenly queasy. “Gross. That’s still my little sister.”

Which is exactly the card Heeseung is hoping he’ll play. But all Jay does is sigh. If Heeseung didn’t know better, he’d think the exasperation was directed at him instead of the loser he’s pretty sure is currently trying to make himself Jay’s future brother-in-law. 

Jay checks over his shoulder one final time for good measure. It confirms whatever he’s looking for. Mostly the fact that Park Sunghoon’s lips are too busy cracking mediocre jokes to be making sloppy passes at his sister in public. 

Hoping to put it to rest once and for all, he turns back to Heeseung. “Besides, it’s Sunghoon,” Jay reasons. He finds it in himself to reach for his beer again. “She’s known him since preschool. He’s practically like a second brother to her.” Jay takes a sip, misreading the rise in Heeseung’s agitation as familial affection. Trying to soothe it over, he concedes with a nod, “Or third, I guess. I’ll let you be her second.”

Like always, Heeseung lets it go. He goes with the flow, rolls with the punches. 

Well, at least on the outside. 

But even if he weren’t so committed to never rocking the boat, this is hardly the time or place to correct Jay’s assumptions that his feelings towards you are anything but brotherly. 

That, he decides, will have to be a revelation for another time. Preferably in a situation where Heeseung is well out of arm’s reach and Jay is in restraints of some sort. 

Those, after all, are the only circumstances in which he could ever disclose just how decidedly not brotherly his feelings towards you are. 

In fact, his feelings are a lot more aligned with that stupid game you used to make him play as kids. The one where you put on the white dress you’d gotten from your cousin as a hand-me-down, an assortment of grape juice, finger paint, and pasta sauce stains scattered along the hemline. 

The one where you’d gather a bunch of dandelions from your overgrown backyard and call them a bouquet. 

The one where you’d live out all your grandest six-year-old dreams of walking down the aisle towards a handsome prince with the latest Kidz Bop rendition of whatever love song was most popular on the radio crackling through the cheap speaker you stole from Jay’s bedroom. 

The one where you’d drag Heeseung away from the player number two console, much to Jay’s unending annoyance, and force him to play the part of your groom. Even at six, you were a force to be reckoned with. An argument-winning fiend that even your older brother could rarely best in a fight. 

Heeseung played along, more than anything, because he was scared to face your wrath if he declined. But he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t feel a little funny in his chest every time he watched you walk down a makeshift aisle made from your mother’s missing tablecloth. 

So no, Heeseung doesn’t give a shit how long you’ve known Sunghoon. After all, what does Sunghoon know about your childhood dream to get married in a garden full of roses? Judging from the way it looks like he keeps trying to get you to take a sip of his drink, he doesn't even know you can’t stand the taste of Coke mixed with liquor. 

But Heeseung knows. He was there the night you developed the aversion. The night you decided bottom shelf tequila and the soda you snuck from your parent’s fridge were your best friends for the evening after junior prom. The night he held your hair and rubbed soothing circles into the skin between your shoulders as it came back up a few hours later. 

And he was there for the rest of it, too. All of the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between that spun the tapestry of your formative years. 

The day you finally got your braces off and didn’t stop smiling for three weeks straight. The time you sprained your ankle trying to hide Jay’s favorite pair of sneakers in the alarmingly tall tree in your backyard. The night you cried for four hours straight when you found out Jake Sim from biology was a big, fat, liar that was indeed texting other girls for homework answers. 

There may have been moments, tangled up in that swirling mix of memories, when Heeseung felt nothing but a brotherly sort of affection for you. A desire to protect you from the world and a distinct sort of pride when he inevitably failed and you rose to the challenge anyway. 

But Heeseung also remembers what it felt like to stand across from you as you recited your six-year-old attempt at recreating marriage vows, and he thinks he never really stood a chance. 

So tonight, glancing over Jay’s shoulder again, Heeseung watches as you lean a little further into Sunghoon, straining to hear him over the cacophony in the bar. 

And the anger he feels in his gut is not brotherly in the slightest. Nor is the red, hot, scalding jealousy that burns his throat every time he forces himself to swallow it down. 

Searching for a distraction, he busies himself with his beer once again, letting Jay’s unwanted evaluations fall to the wayside for the time being. 

Immersed in the dregs of his own despair, he almost misses it. The flash of movement as you slide out from your seat next to Sunghoon. 

His eyes track your movement with the quiet focus of a predator on the hunt, watching as you disappear around the corner. 

Heeseung mumbles some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom that Jay only partially hears before he’s stepping off of his bar stool, beer forgotten on the counter behind him. 

Your footsteps are easy to follow as he traces the predictable path you forge to the opposite corner of the bar. Heeseung’s bathroom excuse was a good one, he’s pleased to discover, once he realizes that’s precisely where he’ll be meeting you. 

The line is long, but it moves quickly. Only a handful of minutes have passed when you emerge again. This time, Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you the chance to walk back and make him watch you from a distance for the rest of the evening. 

Doesn’t give you the chance to so much as look at Park Sunghoon again. 

Instead, he wraps long fingers around the skin of your wrist, dragging you to the adjacent hallway where it’s empty, quiet. Secluded. Away from any wandering eyes or unwanted ears. 

Any protests of yours are overtaken by surprise, and by the time you finally find them again, they’re replaced by questions. 

Heeseung may be a captain of a steady ship, a firm believer in the merits of smooth sailing, but he’s never been able to resist the urge of liminal spaces like these. Moments with enough plausible deniability that Jay won’t have a reason to give him a bloody nose or threaten his life if he so much as looks at his little sister again. Exchanges that he hopes will linger with you long after the two of you have parted ways. 

Desire for ambiguity aside, the position he puts you in is compromising no matter how you spin it. Your back against the wall, Heeseung leans over you, cages you in like he’s after something other than your answers. 

Something more. 

But the gap between your bodies is deliberate, a way for him to backtrack if the situation calls for it. An escape route if he needs it. He really, really hopes he won’t. 

Your wrist is still in his grip, light but demanding, when he finally says, “Park Sunghoon? Really?”

He can’t help it, the way his words are warped with poorly disguised venom. He really cannot stand the guy. 

“What?” You hope you can blame the obvious breathlessness in your voice on shock. “What are you–?”

Heeseung won’t leave you wondering for long. “You think he can handle you?” With the way you’re wrapped up in Heeseung’s hold, the challenge, the comparison, is apparent. 

Your shock morphs. Hardens. Gaze narrowing, you relax a little into his grip. 

Your words, however, remain combative. “Handle me? Am I a wild animal?” You scoff. “I don’t need to be han–”

And, oh, this is Heeseung’s favorite kind of tightrope. His very best balancing act. He loves it, thrives on it, revels in it. 

This exchange of heated words that never go anyway but to your head. He hopes you’re seeing fucking stars. 

Heeseung leans an inch closer. He’s breaching dangerous territory. He’ll blame it on the alcohol if he has to. Glancing at your eyes, holding your gaze, he doesn’t think he will. 

“Who said anything about you needing it?” He’s so close that you feel his breath on your cheekbone, ghosting across your temple. It’s warm, leaves your skin tingling in its wake. “I’m talking about what you want.”

Something unreadable flickers through your gaze. If Heeseung didn’t know any better, he’d call it desire. But it disappears before he can name it, replaced with contempt. As if Heeseung is nothing but a pest, a fly to swat at until it stops buzzing. “Awful presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Heeseung only grins. He’s not like this, usually. Even when his intentions are less than pure. Just like everything else, he flirts in obvious ways. He doesn’t play games or speak in riddles or hope that subtleties will do the job for him. 

But it’s just so easy with you. “I don’t know.” He leans in closer. “There are a few ways we could find out, though.”

If your breath stutters, you’ll disguise it as another scoff. “Pray tell.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Heeseung inclines his head in a mockery of an apology. Pet names are another thing he keeps reserved for these stolen moments with you. Another exception to the rule that he refuses to examine further. 

For a moment, he lets his eyes do what they want. You feel the heat they scorch in their path from your nose to your chin back up to your molten gaze. 

“I’d rather show you.” Heeseung pauses, biting at his bottom lip. “But I don’t think I can do any of the things I want in public.”

You hate the way he does this. The way he never says what he means. The way he skirts around his desires with such heavy footsteps but still leaves you feeling foolish for drawing obvious conclusions. 

The way your heartbeat stutters regardless. But tonight, you’ll hold firm. If he wants anything from you, he’ll have to spell it out. “What are you saying?”

Heeseung is as evasive as always. “I’m saying that Sunghoon’s too nice for you.” There’s a hard edge in his eyes when he adds, “You’ll eat him alive and still be begging for more.”

Fine. If he wants to play games, then you’ll roll the dice too. Make scathing comments and heated taunts with whatever numbers you land on. 

This time, it’s you that leans in. “Should I make sure to find you, then? When I’m all done with him?”

Heeseung’s eyes light up with a renewed vigor. You can’t tell if he’s furious or the most delighted you’ve ever seen him. “Careful,” he breathes. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing at.”

You smile. Sweetly. Innocently. Leaning in further, your mouth is scant inches from his. 

“I’m not playing at anything.” It’s a blatant lie, but you’ve become well acquainted with denial, too. Picked up a few tricks from the master himself. “You’re the one that dragged me here and started demanding that I ditch my friend.”

Heeseung grins as if you serve no purpose but to amuse him. But there’s a hard edge in his voice when he asks, “You let all your friends look at you like that?”

“Only the ones I really like.”

And now you’re under his skin. Exactly where you want to be. “Careful,” he repeats, even lower this time. “I’m not as nice as him.”

You won’t heed any warnings, and especially not ones given from him. 

Heeseung is all talk. All bark and no bite. You almost wish he would bare teeth, just once. 

But Jay is still sitting on a barstool just one room over, and no matter how much he likes toying with you, you have the sinking suspicion that Heeseung’s loyalty will always begin and end with his best friend. 

He’ll press up against the line, will skirt the edge of the boundaries between you every chance he gets, but you’ve yet to see any indication that he’ll ever cross it. 

Just once, you want to be the one with him wrapped around your finger. Want to watch him become putty in your hands. 

“What are you gonna do?” Unblinking, you hold his gaze. “Handle me?”

A blurred line dissolves completely. Heeseung’s resolve slips, just a fraction. His eyes are still guarded, yes, but there’s a desperation that wasn’t there before. “Is that an invitation?”

“A challenge,” you correct, taking advantage of his sudden surprise to slide out of his grasp, maneuvering away from his hold. This time, he has no choice but to turn as you begin to back away, to let his eyes follow your lead. 

The misstep might have been miniscule, but it was enough to tip the balance.

For once, the results of this game are under your sole control. You have choices, ones that would leave him in the dust and ones that would put a trophy in his wandering hands. 

In the end, you discard it all. You have only one final demand for him. It’s a whisper that’s barely audible, “Rise to it.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to hear it twice. 

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Thanks for reading :) If you enjoyed, let me know!

[kabsey]

Hey, I really love your thoughts and writing... how about "Boys Night" from the Wholesome Prompts? 🙂 Anything come to mind?

Thank you so much! <3 I had so many different thoughts for this prompt, but this is the one that stuck. Not quite a boys' night per se, but it is a boys' chat and it is at night 😊

-------

When the knock came, Viago glared at the door over the top of his reading glasses. The runner wasn't due for another hour, and he could not imagine who else Marta would allow to approach his study when she knew exactly how tall the stack of his correspondence had grown (she was the one who brought him the post, after all). Rook or Teia wouldn't have even bothered to knock.

Which left Viago no choice but to pause in his writing with a stifled sigh and a curt "Yes?"

The door opened, and the figure who entered explained all: the First Talon went where he liked. If it had been Caterina, Viago would have set his letter aside and risen to greet her.

Instead Viago resumed writing, though he paid Lucanis the courtesy of asking, "Is this urgent business, or can it wait a moment?"

"It can wait."

Lucanis crossed to the bookshelf, his near-silent footsteps drowned out by the scratching of Viago's quill. From the corner of his eye, Viago watched him peruse the shelves with his hands clasped behind his back. Two fingers on his right hand twitched in an uneven rhythm, a fidgety agitation that no lesser Crow would dare display in front of a Talon. From Lucanis Dellamorte, whose knuckles were striped with crisscrossed scars from Caterina's cane, it either spoke to his comfort with Viago or a mind very ill at ease. Possibly both.

Viago ended the letter with the correct signature (he had a variation for each of his regular correspondents, making a fake easier to spot) and set the page atop the outgoing post to let the ink dry. He wiped the nib of his quill, capped his bottle of ink, and placed both items in his desk drawer with his glasses. The soft sound of the drawer closing drew Lucanis's attention, and Viago gestured for him to take the seat across from his desk.

When he was seated, he opened his mouth to speak, but Viago cut him off with a raised hand.

"I can guess why you're here," he said, folding his hands back over his desk. "You want to make Rook a Dellamorte."

Lucanis raised an eyebrow, but a corner of his lips lifted in a self-deprecating smile. "I suppose my intentions have been fairly obvious."

Viago huffed a laugh. "Yours and half of Antiva's."

Lucanis's smile vanished. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I have received inquiries from the head of every House and even some of the merchant guilds besides." As if Rook would stoop to playing bodyguard to some bloated princeling.

For a brief moment, Lucanis's eyes flashed violet. Viago tensed and curled his fingers around the knife strapped to the underside of his chair arm, but Lucanis shook his head and turned to the thin air to his right, one hand lifted in a placating gesture. "Calm down."

"Apologies," he said as he looked back to Viago, and Viago relaxed his hand. "We're just surprised to hear it. Does Rook know? She's never mentioned it."

Viago frowned. "Of course she does. Do you think I would simply ship her off somewhere with no consideration for her opinion?"

"No, of course not," Lucanis assured him. His gaze dropped to Viago's desk as he fell silent. Viago wondered what the demon had to say about the matter. He probably didn't want to know.

"As far as I'm aware," he said, and Lucanis's eyes immediately returned to his, "Rook has no intention of accepting any of these other offers."

Some of the tension left Lucanis's frame, and Viago felt almost reluctant to continue, though he knew frankness was the better road.

"But you should know, I don't believe she intends to accept yours either."

Lucanis stiffened, tense again to the point of shock. "You... What makes you say that?"

"She's expressed to me that she's happy in my House." Viago was not one for providing comfort, but he knew his words were a blow to Lucanis, so he attempted to choose less direct phrasing than he might have. "She's endured a great deal in the past year. You both have. For the moment, she seems to crave the stability of the familiar rather than jumping into something new."

Lucanis's eyes fluttered briefly shut, in an attempt to control either the demon's reaction or his own. But when he opened them, he nodded.

"I'm glad you told me," he said. "It's something I hadn't considered. Perhaps I should have." A hint of a sad smile crossed his face. "You have to be the one to break it to Teia though. She was so sure Rook would say yes."

Viago raised an eyebrow. "You spoke to Teia about this?" Before Lucanis could answer, he shook his head. "Don't listen to her on the subject of Rook. She's always wanted her for herself."

Lucanis stared back at him, lips parted. "She has?"

"Does that surprise you?" Viago asked. Perhaps Lucanis had not paid much attention previously to the movement of Crows between Houses. Teia was notorious for attempting to charm away promising talent.

"A bit," Lucanis admitted. "You don't seem troubled by the idea."

Viago waved a hand. "We have an arrangement."

Lucanis looked even more nonplussed. "You do?"

"Of course." Viago stroked his beard as he considered the future. "We should probably include you as well moving forward."

An odd red flush crept across Lucanis's face. "Include me? In your... arrangement with Teia?"

Viago frowned. "You don't wish to be involved? Your grandmother always—"

One of Lucanis's hands shot up to stop Viago's words, while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. "Viago, I am starting to think—and really, sincerely hope—that we are talking about two different things."

Viago's frown deepened. "We're discussing Rook joining your House."

Lucanis's shoulders shook with silent laughter, and when he looked up, he was smiling. "We're discussing Rook joining my household. I'm going to ask her to marry me, Viago."

"Oh."

That had been such a foregone conclusion that Viago usually forgot it hadn't been formally settled, except for the moments when Teia griped about Lucanis taking too long. They'd already spent whole evenings with her sharing her thoughts on centerpieces and color coordination and other details that Viago couldn't follow, though he attempted to appear interested enough that he would not be kicked out of their bed.

He looked at the rest of the correspondence he had meant to address in annoyance. The runner would arrive any moment.

"You don't need her Talon's permission for that," he groused.

Lucanis only laughed again. "Of course not. But I would like to know that we would have the blessing of her family."

"Rook isn't—"

The automatic denial died on his lips at Lucanis's knowing look. He much preferred when the First Talon bestowed that smug expression on his rivals. Viago closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Fine. Yes. You have it. Go find her and let me work in peace."

Ever a wise man, Lucanis said nothing more but simply rose and left Viago alone in his study. For all that Teia enjoyed the idea, he had a very difficult time reconciling Rook with a word such as "wife." When he tried, all his mind would conjure was the memory of an underfed girl with a messy braid and bare feet. But not that long ago, he would never have been able to associate the word "hero" with Rook either.

Since he'd managed the one, he was fairly certain that with time, he would manage the other.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not Allowed

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky

Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?

Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.

You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”

“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”

“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”

Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.

“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.

“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”

“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”

He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.

“I know. How was your weekend?”

“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.

“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”

“You know what alcohol does to me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”

“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.

“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”

“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”

“You might get fired.”

“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”

He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.

Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.

After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.

“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.

“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.

You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.

“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.

You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.

“What are you doing? You scared me!”

“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”

“I--”

You don’t have any words for that.

“When are you two gonna fuck?”

“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.

“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.

It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.

“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”

“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”

“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”

“Your name?”

“Brandon Farley.”

“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”

“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, but--”

“Great. Can I take you out?”

“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”

There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.

“Yes.”

“Here’s my number.”

He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.

“I have sticky notes!”

“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”

“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”

“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.

You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.

“Did I hear that right?”

“What?”

“You have a date?”

“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”

“Nothing. No reason.”

Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.

This time, he didn’t.

The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.

“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, what did I do?”

“You accepted a date from someone else.”

You knew it. Why is he bigging out?

“So?”

“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”

“No, he’s just being friendly.”

“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.

The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.

“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”

You shouldn’t have asked him that.

“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”

Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.

“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”

No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.

About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.

This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

“No.”

Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.

“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”

“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”

“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.

“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”

“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”

“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”

Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.

“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.

“Thank you. I’ll call you.”

You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”

“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.

“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.

“No, you weren't,” he laughs.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”

“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”

That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.

“You’re not allowed to see other men.”

“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”

Yes, you will.

x

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[yellowwwcrayon]

if I take my shipping glasses off (and yes, I am blind without them), I actually do not think Hwang Inho will redeem himself in the end. He, at most, will passively allow Gihun or Junho (or both) to do their thing to try and save people, but ultimately he's not going to change his own ways. There's no reason for him to keep being the Frontman after Il-nam's death if he didn't at least partially believe in the cause, and I think he will uphold that system until he dies.

There is an undercurrent of contempt for the players shared by both the Recruiter and the Frontman. I think they hold a core belief that all the desperate people that sign up for the games have destroyed their lives of their own volition, that they knowingly made every single choice that have landed them here, and therefore, these people do not deserve any sympathy. The Recruiter climbed up the ranks through "hard work," he would then think why can't other people do the same? Why can't they choose to make the right choices like he did? They must be lazy or stupid, and so their current predicament is justified. The experiment with the scratcher or bread in the park enforces this dehumanizing idea. Hwang Inho was in law enforcement for over fifteen years. He probably has even less empathy for downtrodden people. I won't go into why this type of mentality is dangerous for society as a whole (and it's unfortunately rampant nowadays in rl), but it is objectively wrong and takes out the effect of systemic oppression carefully woven into place for the average citizen by the ruling class and just makes everyone blame each other instead.

And while Gihun and his endless empathy/compassion might have caught Inho's interest as a standout among the "trash" he likely consider the rest of the players to be, that's not enough to shake him from years of momentum and ideology upholding the oppressive system (whether it was for law enforcement or Il-nam's little games for the oligarchs' amusement). And that why, at least partially, I don't think he will change all that much in S3.

But do I still want him and Gihun to sloppily make out on that tiny wooden chair? hell yeah 😌 feel free to come throw ripe tomatoes at me if this turns out to be wrong and they do ride off into the sunset together and that three-day situationship really changed that man. I'll throw one at myself then too as a toast to their happy marriage ❤️