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atsumutu · 2 months

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it’s not in zoro’s nature to be affectionate. at best, the swordsman is stiff and awkward and at worst, cold and unreceptive - still, there are always exceptions, namely you.

because in the confines of the bathroom, where four walls shut the two of you off to the rest of the world and the lukewarm water of the bathtub laps at your bare skin, it’s his touch that consumes you whole. a steady warmth as you lean against the muscular chest settled behind you.

a warm kiss is pressed onto the back of your neck, followed by another on your shoulder, then another until it reaches the soft flesh between your ears and your jaw, goosebumps rising in its wake.

zoro smoothes a hand over your prickly arms. “cold?” he murmurs, lips grazing past your ears.

you shake your head, turning slightly to smile at him. “just tickles.”

the swordsman grins back at you, leaning forward to peck the corner of your lips. “sorry.” he says, without sounding too sorry.

chuckling, you return the chaste kiss but firm fingers grip under your jaw before you can fully turn away, pulling you back for another kiss. then another. then one more that lingers longer than the rest and has you melting in his hold. a small bubble of laughter escapes you when he finally deems it reasonable to release you.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothing.” you giggle, twisting around fully so you can entwine your fingers behind his head. zoro raises an eyebrow asking you to elaborate. “you’re so needy when it’s just the two of us. it’s cute.”

the tips of his ears turn pink, his cheeks shortly following suit. “am not.” he gruffs, jostling you around in the water with ease as he makes room to stretch out his legs.

thinking he’s readying to leave after your teasing, you plant a hand on his chest. “where are you going?”

zoro smirks because who’s the needy one now? “nowhere, just cramping up.” he placates, drawing you closer once he’s comfortable again.

your fingers have turned wrinkly, imitating the prunes you detest so much. still you ask, “stay with me a little longer?”

zoro’s lips find yours again.

“always.”

#if you're looking for my weakness its this #grumpy looking boys who are soft only for you #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #once piece x you #one piece fluff #zoro fluff #opla #opla zoro #one piece live action

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sun-snatcher · 2 months

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YOUR MEDIC!READER X JET HAS BREATHED LIFE INTO ME. MAKE THEM HOLD HANDS. I BEG. THE PINING IS INSANE. The atla jet fandom is DRY so you're doing god's work out here 😭 😭 (Or anything tbh! I'm absolutely in love with your writing 😭❤️)

🌾 ・ HAND IN LOVING HAND

summ. Jet comes into a dawning realisation. It starts with a mission gone wrong. pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader w.count. 0.7k ( just a blurb! ) a/n. Ask and you shall receive! I’m so glad you love medic!reader as much as I do!

He figures, later, that it might have started with Operation: Creeping Cricket.

Courtesy to Smellerbee for the unique mission name, ofcourse.

That had involved, to date: A handful of Freedom Fighters itching for a fight, an imprisoned pair of orphan twins they’d planned to break out, a couple of dumb Fire Nation spies, and the leaky walls they called the borders of Omashu.

Except, ofcourse, it wouldn’t be a mission without a series of unfortunate events, of which occurred: a storm that changed Sneers’ accurately-predicted course of said Fire Nation spies, which meant their little hostages that they’d come to rescue would be headed down a different path, which also meant their traps lining on the trail towards the borders of Omashu— that The Duke had spent a frustratingly long amount of time setting up— would be rendered useless.

They settled on a brute force ambush instead, much to your disdain; you were, after all, a better healer than you were a fighter.

“This was a terrible—!” You pause to dodge a burst of white hot flames from a Fire Nation soldier. The rain is quick to dampen their efforts, luckily for you. “This was a terrible plan, Jet!”

He strains to hear you underneath the torrent. “Don’t blame me, Pipsqueak started it! Duck!”

You duck. Another spy crumples behind you, thanks to the swing of Jet’s tiger blades, and as the soldier lands on the ground— that’s when you notice it; the quaking rumble of earth, the jumping of stones.

Earth Kingdom Guards have caught wind.

In the distance, Longshot produces a birdcall from high above— shrill and piercing, one that’s rarely ever been used amongst the rebellion— a warning. Retreat. The Freedom Fighters are outnumbered. Scatter.

The ground erupts beneath you, and you scream. You practically sweep Jet off his feet as you snatch his hand and take off to higher ground to avoid the rising tempest. Hot on your heels, both of you can feel the snap and crackle of roots tearing deep underneath as the kingdom guards begin their manhunt.

“Quick!” you urge, as he trips over his footing. You glance at him over your shoulder, giving him a squeeze in your intertwined fingers as you check, “Hey, you hurt?”

“I— uh, no,” he stumbles, for some reason. Nothing but superficial cuts and bruises, anyway. He’ll live. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It could’ve been minutes or an hour of just running, he isn’t quite sure— he’s too busy noting how your hands fit awfully perfect against his, and how despite the rain and muck, you still managed to look... collected. (Collected, he thinks, because he refused to admit anything unforgivably romantic.) Jet lets himself be led across the maze of woodland and grass, and catches himself wondering whether the hand holding had been a conscious move at all.

At the time, he’d decided it didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t, Jet had reasoned to himself, as you tugged him underneath an overhang and into a hidden crevice. Beyond the roguish charm and borderline flirtatious jokes he liked to play at— both of you were, at the end of the day, amidst an unending war. You were the Rebellions’ resident medic, and he was their token leader. There was no time to entertain fairytales and pipedreams.

“I think we lost them,” you pant, peeking over. “Do you think the others are okay?”

Jet looks at you, fights back the urge to tuck the rain-wet strands of your hair behind your ear so he can see your face better; how the light hits your profile and sets your eyes alight, down to the tip of your nose, and to your mud-stained cheeks. Collected. Capable, he reminds himself. Not pretty. Not pretty. Not—

“What’s wrong?” you ask, when you’d caught his gaze. “Jet?”

“Ah. Uh, nothing,” he blinks away— too fast; too quick to hide the obvious lie. “The others can handle themselves. Let’s, let’s wait for the storm to pass.”

This is simply camaraderie, he’d convinced himself, and stifled down the barb of disappointment that crept in him when you were the first to finally let go.

Right?

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daddiesdrarryy · 4 days

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Regulus: What are you eating?

James: Chicken fried steak!

Regulus: What? You can’t have chicken fried steak first thing in the morning, James

James: Hey, you knew I was a bad boy when you married me

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indivisiblecell · 8 months

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"thought you didn't like sweet things"

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #sanji #zoro #roronoa zoro #sanji x zoro #zoro x sanji #zosan #sanzo #i think those are all the tags #a handful #anyway this was perfect casting oh boy #my art #artists on tumblr #art #black leg sanji

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zoraideales · 1 month

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When theyre scarred and traumatized >>>

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agir1ukn0w · 8 months

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not that anyone cares but the fact that this is what Nami's face looks like right after Sanji flirts with her is making me very happy

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same-name-supremacy · 6 months

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Coming out as an Aletyler shipper

I blame one of my friends, they got me into it.

Anyway! Alejandra and Taylor! Are they so cute?

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shanksxbuggy · 10 months

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Can’t believe they managed, by pure chance, to get actors who are born in the same year for Shanks and Buggy just like their characters.

They have all this variation in the cast’s ages and little changes, but they specifically nailed these two. Their eye colors, height difference, ages, all fitting so well? They really knew how to perfect the Shanks and Buggy ship.

#oda really made sure buggy and shanks are casted perfectly together #he really said buggy must be a slender blue-eyed pretty boy and i won’t settle for less!!#all the other buggy fancasts didn’t cast someone so handsome but oda truly understands his characters #one piece #one piece live action #opla #shanks #buggy #redhaired shanks #buggy the clown #buggy x shanks #shanks x buggy #red haired shanks #Peter gadiot #jeff ward

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arrowsperpetualcringe · 6 months

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Headcanon that Mike isn't great at cooking so Ness is the one to cook.

canon.

everything Mike cooks gets burn or set on fire

"better over cooked than undercooked, right?" Mentality

Which is TRUE.....

but also omg sir you can't cook for shit

I'd like to think he'd try to get better at it though.... Having Ness cook when he gets off from a whole day of already doing so and waiting tables has gotta be rough.

So yeah, Mike's not the best at cooking... But I think he'd still try and get better over time as a result

It's cheesy, but it's the thought that counts :)

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bird-inacage · 8 months

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Only Friends Episode 5 | 'Friendship': According to Ray (The Denial Sequel)

Spoiler: It's complete bullshit.

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somethingsomethingwords · 3 months

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Good whatever-time-of-the-day-is-over-there. Here's a new thing. I played a little with their characterisation in this one. Stay safe out there. Enjoy 💜

Lance is bothered. And what's worse, Fernando is bothered that Lance is bothered. Not that caring about someone is wrong or strange and, while personally it isn't his MO, neither is caring about your teammates.

No, Fernando cares because of reasons that are still not clear. And that's what is driving him mad. And also the frown on Lance's face, but he'll face one problem at a time.

First point on the list, why does he care about this kid.

It had been easy signing the contract, even when Lawrence had heavily hinted at his mentor's duties.

He obviously had heard about Lawrence's son, about his achievements in the minor categories, and his average results in Formula 1.

And he couldn't escape the rumours about his rich spoiled kid behaviour, his lack of a strong personality or his evident disinterest in the sport.

Hell, he had even met the guy in the paddock before arriving at Aston Martin.

And then he met Lance, with his goofy smile, his sweet personality, his seriousness about the job, the fire that burnt when getting inside the car and the evident hard created persona for the media that completely melted when in private, the spark of a prankster spirit with Mick and Esteban.

(Ugh, he already couldn't stand the Frenchman when they were teammates, and now it was even worse when he saw how close the two young men were.)

The point is, when he started he didn't think highly of baby Stroll, and now here he is, knocking on the door of Lance's hotel room, because there is something wrong with the Canadian, and that meant Fernando cares because. Just. Because.

So, here he is, ready to find out what's going on.

He hears some muffled words behind the door, and then it's opened by Lance, his hair really messy and his shorts really short.

He is slowly losing his mind, when the younger one starts talking.

"Hey, Fernando. Do you come here often?" he says, languid and with those big doe eyes of his.

Fernando is completely baffled. They don't flirt, that's not how they are. He is usually the one that lightly teases Lance, just to see him blushing, and jokes around, just to see his smile and make sure that he is happy, but nothing more than that. He doesn't understand this sudden change.

Lance must see his confusion on his face, because he chuckles and shakes his head.

"Sorry, just the painkillers, they are kicking my ass. Also I'm tired as fuck and I'm really thirsty" he says, with an adorable snort.

Lance isn't exactly shy, but he has always seemed to like keeping to himself, and to contribute to a conversation rather than starting it. All this openness and honesty are very surprising, and somehow even a little bit worrying.

"Don't worry. You ok?"

And Fernando is winning dumbest person ever, because the answer is staring right at him, eyes glassy and unnaturally red cheeks, the aura of sweat and sick all over Lance. But the younger doesn't stop smiling.

"Yeah, it's all good, just high temperature and sore wrists"

And that's what Fernando had first noticed. Lance had been particularly careful with his wrists all day, never actually wrapping them in bandages, but massaging and rubbing them continuously, discomfort clear on his face.

ok, now you know, now you can leave he thinks, but something won't make him move. He had always been attentive, after all.

"You have a fever?" he asks, starting to worry.

Lance shrugs, but everything about him is screaming tired and sick.

"It's nothing serious, really" as he says this, Lance has to grip the door because of the sudden dizziness.

Fernando, now seriously worrying, just stares at him, until the other sighs.

"Ok, it may be a little bit serious, but everything is fine. I just need some sleep. Goodnight" and goes to close the door, but Fernando is faster. He puts his foot in between the door and its frame.

"Let me help you" he simply says.

He finds himself being looked through as if he was inconsistent by Lance's unfocused eyes. And then they refocus, and they are starting deep into his soul.

"Why?" Lance says simply, and Fernando feels like this is a test. Lance won't let him in if he fails, and Fernando has no intention of failing.

"Can see you're not well. Want to help. Because... I care" the admission tears something in him, something that has been hardened after all the years on track. Something that starts feeling warm and light and bright when Lance smiles softly and lets him in.

He enters and then closes the door, leaving behind the last vestiges of embarrassment and doubt. He has a job, a mission, and he won't make mistakes nor disappoint.

Looking around, the only sign of life is the crumpled blanket on the couch.

"You were sleeping on that?" ask Fernando, looking at the small sofa and his tall teammate.

"It was closer to the door" answers the other, shrugging again.

"Must have been uncomfortable" because even if it was of the right size, which it wasn't, it still looks stiff and leather cold.

"What's a little more pain when your whole body tingles and your wrists feel on fire?"

It's the simplicity with which Lance speaks, as if nothing bothers him, as if pain is inevitable and he shouldn't complain. That doesn't sit right with Fernando. Lance deserves the world's softest blankets, its warmest beds and its coziest socks. Fernando could give him everything. Fernando wants to give him everything. That's terrifying. But admitting it is also freeing, somehow.

soul shattering revelations later, nurse duty now he thinks, not without fondness.

Fernando follows Lance to his bed, and when the taller man just falls into the bed, not bothering with his clothes or the sheets, Nando realises he's going to have to work hard. He's always loved a good challenge.

Fernando reaches for the other's luggage, easily finding his pajama and fresh underwear. Then he returns to the side of the bed.

"Now, get up. Take a shower, dry, new clothes and bed. Can you do it?"

He infuses a bit of a challenge at the end, just to rile the man up.

What he doesn't expect is Lance's laugh at his words.

"Dude, I can't feel my legs. I'm not gonna reach the bathroom on them. I think I'll just skip everything and just go to bed" he says, burrowing further into the covers, which still aren't actually covering him.

"Ok, I'll help you" he says, as if it's something they do normally.

Fernando basically drags Lance to the bathroom, sitting him on the closed lid of the toilet. When he looks at Lance's face, he worries. It is redder than before, and his eyes are strangely focused on his arm for no apparent reason.

"Lance, everything ok?" he is starting to feel like a mother hen, but Lance's behaviour is really messing him up. And his answer really doesn't help.

"So strong" says Lance, completely spaced out and lightly stroking his bicep.

The caress is absolutely doing nothing to him, no sir.

Fernando gently takes Lance's hand, and waits until his eyes are focused on him.

"It's ok. Just a quick shower and then to bed, no?"

Lance nods, but Fernando can tell he's not completely there. So he quickly removes his clothes, leaving the underwear, and after turning on the water at a lukewarm temperature, he guides him into the bath.

It's not even ten seconds later that Lance starts shaking. Fernando is immediately grabbing his hand.

"What's going on, Lance? What's wrong?"

"The water... Is hot... It hurts" he is shivering and biting his bottom lip so hard Fernando can already see blood.

"Lance I need you to listen to me. The water is not hot. Your body is not feeling it right. Let me wash you and then it's the bed" he says, feeling like he is kicking a puppy, but he knows the lukewarm bath will help Lance in the long run. So he washes him as fast as he can, and then turns off the water. He starts wrapping the younger man in the preheated towel, gentle and careful.

He can see the other is losing himself faster than he'd like. So, when Lance seems dry enough, he wastes no time taking off his boxers and putting on a new pair, without peeking, he swears.

All dressed up, he carries him to the bed, where the other can finally sleep under the covers. He's just about to go get Lance some water, when the other starts.

"Thank you,,, for being here,,, but don't leave,,, it hurts" he says with his eyes closed and a pained frown, his breath moving his chest with a staccato rhythm.

Fernando kneels on the floor, so he is face to face with Lance, and starts stroking his hair.

"Am not leaving. Just going to get some water, then we sleep. I know it hurts, but it's going to be ok. Trust me" and the last sentence came out more like a question, and he worries for a second. Then he sees the other relax before opening his eyes and looking him in the eyes, whispering "Always" and closing them.

Fernando feels a weight lifting from his chest, but also a growing responsibility. For the first time in a while, he isn't scared of committing to whatever this is.

He shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his face, before standing up and retrieving two bottles of water from the mini fridge in the kitchenette.

He deposits them, one on each of the nightstands, and lies on the free side of the bed.

He tries to keep a modicum of distance, but Lance is having none of it. He simply turns towards him, and hugs him, reminding Nando of an overgrown squid.

He is out like a light in five seconds flat.

cute, he thinks, and for the first time in what seems like months of their dance, Fernando allows himself to properly drink Lance's sight, his long eyelashes and his strong nose and his pink mouth, slightly open in his sleep. He allows himself to think about how he likes being with the other man, how he likes to make him laugh, how he can't stand seeing him upset.

He allows himself to simply be, to simply feel whatever he feels for Lance. And it feels good.

#lance stroll #fernando alonso #strollonso #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #but not quite #more like flirty boi x in denial old man #caring through silent actions may be one of my favourite tropes #just something short and sweet

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marycorcaroli · 8 months

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yandere!zoro x inventor!reader.

req: hiii 🙈 maybe you can do yandere zoro x inventor! reader hcs. the reader is basically the inventor of the crew, she can make stink bombs, explosives, and overall, just great gadgets. the reader can't fight with swords or do hand to hand combat but uses her inventions to help her out, zoro kind of becomes protective of her. this is so long whew!!

mary♡: thanks for the request 🌷, i hope you enjoy it, i tried really hard💗 ! iapologize for my mistakes, english is not my first language 🤧

zoro loves you infinitely much, you are the perfect girl for him, but he is just a traumatized asshole who is afraid to make the first move and show his love, but there is one problem, zoro won't let someone hurt you verbally or physically, he would go crazy.

you were beautiful in everything, you could do everything he couldn't and teach him to be better. i think zoro could spend hours watching you do something useful to protect the team, your graceful hands going through what seems like such heavy and hard elements, but you still look beautiful. you can't even imagine how proud zoro was of you when you unveiled your new bomb or explosive that could defeat anything and everything. zoro would never say out loud how wonderful you are, his ego wouldn't let him, but if someone else did, i'm afraid that person would be dead in seconds.

zoro knew you couldn't defend yourself with your hands and was always afraid that you would be found by other pirates who wanted to avenge themselves and you wouldn't be able to beat them, it breaks zoro into tiny little pieces, he thinks about it every night or even every night he thinks about you and how he wants to have you all to himself.

zoro is very possessive, he won't let you go anywhere. you want to go with luffy to help him? nah, how about you stay here and just be quiet with zoro? simple, he's very scared for you and himself too. zoro can't see his future without you, he'll be a literal monster if he loses you, his brain will stop functioning properly and he won't be able to see anything but the blood of the people who took you from him.

it was his biggest mistake, to try to hurt you, to make you cry and leave you bruised in a horrible shade of purple. god, everyone knew zoro was crazy when he saw the pirate next to you, trying to hit you and take the key to the cabin where all your inventions were.

zoro ran towards you, imagining the most horrible ways to kill this fearless pirate who was trying to touch you. zoro was at your side in seconds and threw the man away from you to the farthest corner of the ship, odd that he didn't die from that.

"are you okay? did he hurt you? where did he touch you? " zoro said all this out of breath, he was short of breath from the anger he was feeling, his eyes were running all over your body and face, he was trying to make sure you were okay, but the bruise on your face said otherwise, zoro's eyes were even more aggressive than they had been in a couple seconds, he was literally on fire, his hands were tense and veins were showing on his forehead from how hard he was squeezing you and he didn't want to let go but he had to.

"zoro, it's okay, it doesn't hurt, don't worry about me, h-he wanted to steal all the things i've been doing for so long, but-he didn't have time, i-i wanted to fight back but nothing would come out, i'm sorry, please."

zoro didn't hear your voice, he was terrified of what he wanted to do to that pirate and then keep you all to himself.

zoro will start with something small, just beating him until he hears him begging for forgiveness, but he doesn't care anymore. he hurt you and made you feel fear, which means zoro will do the same thing to him, only a few thousand times worse, he will make the man feel the fear he never felt.

at the end when you ask zoro to stop, he will, but stop for a couple seconds to do something else.

"no one can touch y/n and survive after that, no one. " zoro said it with the coldest look, "you tried to take her from me, but it didn't work and it never will. my face is the last thing you'll see before you go burn in hell."

zoro's words left you shocked, he had never said those words before, you had no idea how he really felt about you, but now it all fell into place.

you are his treasure, his air, his life, you are his completely, not from that moment but from the moment you first met you have always been only his. today, zoro made it obvious to everyone here. you don't have to worry anymore, no one will dare to hurt you or just come near you, zoro won't let them. he will kill them all and spill all that blood for you, he will do anything to keep you with him. and if you think he is too aggressive and you don't want to be with him, he will make you.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #yandere!zoro #yandere boy #nonnie's req <3 #nonnie <3 #mary ♡#mackenyu

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sun-snatcher · 2 months

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No no because I love your depiction of Jet??? Oh my god?? Like hell yeah hes a fearless leader of a freedom fighting rebellion group he built from the ground up but he’s also?? JUST A TEEN!! JUST A BOY!! Teenage boys get butterflies too!!??

🌾 ・ POCKETFUL OF BUTTERFLIES

summ. Operation: Creeping Cricket was a botch. It looks like you and Jet aren’t gonna be headed home anytime soon. pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader w.count. 1.1k a/n. ANON YOURE SO RIGHT. Sometimes we forget Jet is really just a teenage boy grappling with hormones and feelings and everything inbetween! Enjoy this short continuation to Hand in Loving Hand!

You take a mental note to thank Longshot and his squirrel-like tendencies to hide emergency stashes up in trees for times like these.

“Here,” Jet says softly, “Y’might catch a cold soon.”

The change of clothes he offers you is weathered, but a warm welcome respite from the frigid chill that’s settled into your bones.

Operation Creeping Cricket had been a complete bust. Your narrow escape is a stroke of luck with all things considered, and at least the rain has finally stopped. It doesn’t help that both you and Jet are soaked head to toe, however, and the fact that the temperatures in the forests by Omashu can drop critically.

Your cheeks are raw; your fingers ache— but you manage to begin peeling off the layers of your clothes one by one to dry by the campfire. From across, Jet’s already managed to change out. He frowns in concern from where he’s sitting by the fire, watching you tip over a boot of water.

“You’re shaking.”

“Shivering,” you correct, trying to stop the chatter of your teeth. You wonder if biting on a wheat straw like how Jet is doing right now would help. “But, yes. Same thing I suppose.”

Then you’re untying the strings of your tunic, and pulling it swiftly over your head.

Jet barely has time to react.

He practically snaps his neck turning away, eyes wide.

The whiplash, the innocent attempt at privacy, has you biting back a laugh.

Ever the gentleman.

“You can look now,” you finally say, after a quick minute, and Jet is careful to turn.

The garments that Longshot had stashed practically drowns your figure, sleeves bundling at the wrists; collar wide and dipping low enough to reveal the corded necklace you never remove. And then there’s the glow of the fire, honeying you in amber light as you run your fingers through your damp hair.

You’re… effortlessly beautiful. He’s not quite sure there’s any other way to describe you.

“That bad, huh?” you ask, pinned under his gaze.

Jet startles. “Sorry, I— No, you just, look cold, still.”

He clears his throat as the tips of his ears burn. He hopes to the Spirits beyond you hadn’t noticed them go red. (You did.)

“Well, so do you.” You reach back into Longshot’s knapsack and tug out a blanket from inside, before making your way across to the log Jet’s settled on. The material is tanned and threadbare, but it would do for the night.

Your hands brush as you wrap the cloth around the both of you.

It’s difficult not to focus on just how warm Jet is. Even more difficult not to lean against him.

It hadn’t mattered much in the end, though; Jet shifts closer, and presses his shoulder against yours.

“Y’okay?” You ask, gentle.

Under the dim firelight, his hard edges seem to soften. The fearless leader of the Freedom Fighters can be surprisingly endearing. Suddenly, Jet is simply another survivor; another casualty of war.

He shrugs lightly, careful not to jostle you, and makes a face. “Eh. We’ve faced worse, haven’t we?”

You laugh, ducking into his shoulder. Jet wonders if you can physically feel the butterflies taking flight in his chest.

There’s a spill of flowers behind you— budding Moonflowers, he recognises; native to Earth Kingdom wildlife— and has half the mind to pluck one and hand it to you.

He chews harder on the straw in his mouth instead.

( He knows you don’t see him that way, anyway. You’d made that clear before. ‘We’re family,’ is what you’d told him; Him and the rest of the Freedom Fighters. ‘Found family.’ And while he isn’t complaining, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t imagine atleast once what it’d be like to be something more with you.

Even if you did, he’s not quite sure he’d act on it. He’s not quite sure he can allow himself to be that vulnerable to someone. Not when he's a wanted man; not when subjecting someone into his dangerous lifestyle is the last thing he wants— even if said someone had signed up for it. )

“I’ll take first watch.” he says, after a moment.

“Y’sure? I don’t mind doing it. I promise I’ll wake you up this time.”

He laughs at the old memory. The smile, however, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. You need rest.”

Quietly, you read him. Measure the micro-expressions that pass his face. Having fought alongside Jet throughout the years of survival made it easier. Whenever night falls, and the weight of his duties could settle if only for a little while, you could finally see all of him. Just a teenager who’s fighting for what he believed in; a kid who had to take on the world too early.

That illusion of 24/7 confidence falls around you often, though never around the younger rebels. You’ve kept the privilege close to your heart.

“You’re worried.”

He picks on the hearth for a moment, listens to the crackle of the fire.

Jet doesn’t doubt the Freedom Fighters’ capabilities. Longshot’s probably camping out somewhere in the trees with Smellerbee and The Duke, and Pipsqueak and Sneers can navigate these forests even better than him. They’ve all probably made it home already, knowing them.

And yet. And yet—

“Yeah,” he says. He didn’t like admitting it, because it implied they couldn’t protect themselves. It’d have meant he isn’t confident in them; that he, to some degree, didn’t trust them. It’s a twisted mindset, he recognises, but he can’t quite help his way of thinking these days. He didn’t like admitting he cared more than he really should— it’d be a concession. An admission.

An admission that he might truly snap if he lost any of the Freedom Fighters; that he might truly break if, Spirits forbid, he’d lose you.

The thought sends a frisson up his spine.

That shouldn’t scare him. It shouldn’t.

He blinks, shakes his head. “That obvious?”

“No. But I’ve known you for years now,” you nudge. “It’s okay to worry, y’know? You can care. You do care. There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to act like you don’t for the sake of appearing calm and collected and… cool.”

He cocks his head at that, musters a playful smile. “Ah. So you think I’m cool?”

It’s meant to derail the conversation. Fortunately for him, it’s successful. Jet watches you bow your head and laugh; the bright one, the kind that makes his heart sing.

Camaraderie, he reminds himself, swallowing thickly as he reluctantly turns away from you. Nothing more, nothing less.

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