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cheesecakethots · 7 months

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i LIVE for the angst of a yandere initially being fucking awful to their darling after taking them, and overtime changing and becoming more loving, as well has having newfound and immense regret for what they’ve done. it is literally my fave yan scenario.

tw // pretty heavy angst, mentions of noncon

i specifically imagine it for shigaraki, going from being this disgusting manbaby who treats his darling like they’re nothing but a toy for him to use, only to later realise how much he loves them and mature in how he treats them, making his regret for the past even stronger.

him trying to coax his darling into coming out on a date with him - they can go anywhere, he doesn’t mind, darling has free reign to choose what they do. he tries to be so soft and quiet in his tone, as though not to startle them.

it’s only when tears start forming in their eyes and they mumble, “have i been bad?” that he realises how badly his past self fucked up.

the only other time he really took them out was when he’d decided they needed a punishment, and had made them stand and watch as he disintegrated the first group of people they saw out. he had then fucked them against the alleyway wall, bodies still around them both, just to really get the point across.

he wishes he could take back everything, but he can’t. as of now, he needs to take baby steps in order to bring you out of the very same hole he once caved into your mind.

(i love regretful yans urm send me some thots about them pretty please)

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agni-ashes · 10 months

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i’m. im going insane over this.

transcript under the cut!

martyn: "i talk about my fears to- so that i can face them! well, get rid of them at least"

jimmy: "you're gonna have to face it now! *laughs*

martyn: "well i'll tell you now, what i'll do, is once your build exceeds this build by one block in terms of height, i will come and slaughter you and push you down to third life and then, we'll just stop proceedings"

jimmy: "we're on- we're on new life. i don't- that was two years ago, martyn! get over it, it was two years ago! third life was two years ago!"

martyn: "... third life never ended for me."

#martyn inthelittlewood #jimmy solidarity #nlsmp #third life #GOD #THE. THE ANGST POTENTIAL OF THIS #the two of them... being the only ones who seem to remember...#listeners #maybe because of that?#and OHHHHH i cant #he misses his king #and now that his origin gives him an affinity for ice and snow and wintery things #he misses his king all the more #agni transcribes

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nell0-0 · 1 month

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AHHHH! He lost his EYE in the war! AHHHH!

I am perfectly normal about your last comic. I swear. Very normal. Just...not at all sobbing and emotional over it. You should know that. Definitely. ;_;

It's so good and so sad!

Yep ;u;

Glad you liked it tho!

Take the broken mask drawing as symbolism (?). A piece of him is now forever a part of Mask, and there's no taking that back.

There are many protrayals of Fierce Deity out there, but I like to think he ain't necessarily mean (quite the contrary), just a bit out of touch with how hylians work and feel. Fierce Deity deemed some things necessary for Mask's survival and well being, and not necessarily all of them were free of consequences. It was done with good intentions tho. If only he bothered to explain/tell Mask that...

Tormenting Twilight a bit is fun sometimes too ksksks

> Context about the ask HERE

> Twili Twilight looks HERE

> Continuation of this HERE

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phoebepheebsphibs · 4 months

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Draxum's Nightmare: A Post-ROTTMNT Movie Comic, Part 8/9

Freshly baked comfort for the angst!

OH MY GOD HE IS SO PROUD OF HIS LIL BOY HE LOVES HIM SO MUCH

First || Prev || Next

Let the child get his naptime, Drax.

Y'all see what that kid did to the sapling???

Mikey is the Lorax, he speaks for the trees…

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little-pondhead · 2 months

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The Curse Of Hope

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck #the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years #like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle #actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it #it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf #basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck #those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years #Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him #there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham #I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that #anyways the Batfam are like #invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species #but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper #I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham #but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it #they think Danny is another curse come to plague them #should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written #sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned #crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park #oh shit is that a new ship #guys please I can’t keep doing this #Gotham City x Amity Park #how the fuck do you come up with a name for that #Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret #low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

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After being ignored by the Justice League for years and thought of as a scam Phantom finally faces an opponent he didn't win against and his city is destroyed, killing everyone. The monster is heavily wounded by Phantom however as it was a brutal fight for both of them

Danny is heartbroken and in shock while the Justice League face off against this threat and also lose. Eventually they get thier second wind and rematch it and kill the thing, but just barely.

Later a small memorial was held for Amity Park and Phantom was enraged at how small it was. 70,000 people died and this was it? Most of the people hear weren't even mourners. They were press and fake ghost enthusiasts trying to catch internet points for thier viewer count. He hears some redhead say that the people of Amity were scammers and this whole ghost thing was fake. With tears in his eyes he screams, not as Fenton but as Phantom, "I'm fake?!" He grabbed the man by his throat and flew a few feet into the air, "You think I'm fake?! Here! Let's see how fake I am!" His words were dripping venom as he possessed the man and laughed as he used him as a puppet, attacking the people around him with ectoblasts and sending them running away screaming.

Bruce Wayne watched on as some unknown Elderich entity possessed Wally West and began attacking people. So Amity Parks pleas for help as well as the pleas from thier supposedly fake superhero were not just part of an elaborate tourist trap.

Green lantern had some explaining to do. Hopefully it wasn't too late to salvage the situation and save this child.

It was.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #angst #batman #wally west #the flash #bruce wayne #evil danny #i need some evil danny in my life #he holds the Justice League personally accountable to the death of everyone he loved #give them hell bb #woo

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spamgyu · 4 months

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BACKBURNER // PART 3

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

She wasn't in deep slumber, but she wasn't awake either.

Y/n had allowed the soft sounds of the waves crashing on the shore and indistinct conversations around her lull her into a light sleep – only to be awoken by the sudden lack of warmth that kissed her skin and droplets of water hitting her bare stomach.

Squinting her eyes open, she was greeted by a drenched Mingyu standing above her – a smile on his face. "Hey Stink, wanna get lunch?" He sat on her towel, feeling his soaked swim trunks cool her thigh.

It has been a while since she had eaten and the thought a bowl ahi poke did sound nice. "Sure." She sat up, stretching her hands above her head.

Y/n took a glance around her and noticed that the group she had originally had been lounging around with were gone; some cooling off in the water and others playing a game of volleyball.

Except Seungcheol and Sunhee, who had his head on her lap while she had her nose deep in the book she had brought down from their hotel room.

Sickening.

"You have fun out there?" She asked rhetorically as he shook his head to get the remaining water out of his ears.

"Come out there with me later, yeah?" Mingyu reached up to fix his hair, slicking it back away from his face.

It was going to take a while for her to get used to this new tone of voice he used around her. She wasn't used to the deep octave he used, mixed with some sweetness in his tone – something she had heard only when he was around the women he was dating.

It sent her chills down her spine, thinking how cringy it was for him to use all his tricks he had done to make all those other girls fall at his feet with her.

"Maybe." Y/n leaned over to move a strand that he had missed.

She too used a tone that he hadn't heard of.

Not directed to him at least.

Their customer service voices.

"You guys are cute when you aren't fighting." Sunhee's voice caught their attention.

...And Seungcheol's, who let out a puff of air as a laugh.

Up until now, Mingyu and y/n had thought he was asleep – his sunglasses hiding his eyes.

"Give it until tomorrow, they'll be fighting again." Seungcheol sat up, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

Y/n chose to ignore his comment, standing up from where she had been sitting – reaching for her shorts and pulling it up to cover her bottom half. "Can you guys watch our stuff? We'll bring back poke in exchange."

"No."

"Don't listen to him." Sunhee waved him off. "Have fun!"

"Thanks, Sunhee." Mingyu smiled, reaching down to hold y/n hand – allowing her to guide him towards the main road.

"He's irked." He leaned down to mumble in her ears

The walk to the market was a short one, the two not bothering to let go of each other's hands as she once again allowed him to talk her ear off – babbling about tomorrow's trip to the North Shore.

He went on and on about how excited he was to try the shrimp truck he had seen many youtubers rave about; spending hours on end watching vlogs to prep him for the trip.

"Do you talk this much when you're with your girls?" She was genuinely curious, in shock with how he seemed to never run out of subjects to talk about. It was as if he was on a mission to reach a word certain count by the end of the day.

"No, just you." He shook his head, bringing his arm around her shoulders; pulling her closer to his body.

Weirdly enough, she preferred this more than holding his hand – it was more comfortable this way.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"So when did this happen?" Jeonghan motioned to the space between the two, catching y/n's attention from across the table.

After a long day of spending their time at the beach, they had decided their first night all together called for a group dinner at the hotel's restaurant – all at the expense of the best man's card.

Seungcheol.

Sunhee nearly choked on the cocktail she was sipping on, quickly shaking her head. "Oh we're not– no." She laughed.

They could have fooled anyone... just as well as Y/n and Mingyu had been.

They had spent the dinner picking off each other's plates – even showing up in coordinating outfits that Sunhee had sworn was not planned. Y/n had to fight the her brain from making a face when Sunhee had profusely declined the groups teasing when they first took their seats.

"Oh." Jeonghan blinked. "I just figured–"

"We're not." Seungcheol shutting him down, instantly silencing Jeonghan who then turned his body to the direction of y/n and Mingyu.

She had been thankful for the various conversations taking place around the table, allowing her to pretend that she hadn't been listening in to the short interaction happening a few feet from her.

"What about you two?" Jeonghan nodded at them, stopping Mingyu mid-setence while he conversed with Minghao about tomorrow's plans.

"What about us?" He asked, confused with the question being asked.

"When did this happen?" Jeonghan repeated.

"Valentines day." Mingyu replied without a second thought, almost as if he had the story ready for anyone who would ask.

He was quick at his feet, able to muster up a lie with a heartbeat.

She made a mental note to thank him later.

"I think I just realized that I always had feelings for her and I wanted to see if what I was thinking was real, or just– I don't know. Minghao convinced me to go over to her place and just let it all out." He continued, shrugging off the story as if it was the most casual thing that left his lips.

If she wasn't a part of the lie, she would have bought it.

Like Jeonghan, Y/n looked over to Minghao who had nodded in confirmation as he swirled the wine in his hand.

They were great liars.

"Didn't know you had a soft spot, Mingyu." Soonyoung whistled.

"Me neither." Y/n whispered only for the two of them to hear, earning a poke on her side from him – causing a small laugh to escape from her lips.

"Oh my god, they're actually in love." Chan gagged, catching the small interaction that had just unfolded before him.

"You guys should see what I have to put up with at home." Minghao grumbled into his wine glass before taking a long sip.

The teasing? The bickering over which show to watch? The hour long debate over a movies plot? The impromptu karaoke sessions in their living room? Yeah, Minghao did have to put up through a lot.

"I guess the next to walk down the aisle will be Y/n and Mingyu." Jeonghan joked.

"Mingyu? Yeah right." Seungcheol chuckled.

Thankfully the rest of the group had managed to drop the topic and redirected the conversation back to Jeonghan – catching up on all the events that has been happening in his life.

Y/n took the opportunity to excuse herself to the restroom as the energy died down, looking down at her feet as she made her way to the back of the restaurant – she had one too many Mai Tai's and did not want to accidentally trip over air.

"Y/n!"

Turning her head to the voice at the end of the hall, she was once again cornered by Seungcheol – with no place to run.

"Can we talk?" He stopped within a foot of her, his voice much softer than the snarky voice he had been using every time he would make a snide comment earlier in the day. "Please?"

Y/n stared at him, unable to come up with an excuse to avoid him.

"Five minutes." She swallowed.

Seungcheol nodded, motioning him to follow her through the doors that lead to the beach – wanting to converse in a much quieter atmosphere.

Once they were at an enough distance from the restaurant, away from the eyeline of the others, Seungcheol came to a stop turning to the girl.

"You guys may be fooling everyone but you're not fooling me." He spoke slowly.

They were caught.

"Did you just bring me out here to pick a fight?" She hugged her arms around her, feeling the cool breeze hit her bare arms.

"Y/n, drop the act. Do you really think that I'd believe you're dating, of all the people in the world, Mingyu? You guys are best friends, yeah I get that- but please, I know you guys don't love each other–"

"Not like how you and Sunhee love each other right?" Y/n snapped back.

Seungcheol licked his lips, shaking his head.

If he wasn't letting up, neither was she.

"You guys have always been at each other's throat, you really think I believe that one day you guys just decided to stop?"

"He knows me better than anyone, Cheol. He knows what makes me happy, what makes me tick. He has wiped every tear that you have caused. He picked me up whenever you left me stranded. He has always been there, more importantly when you weren't."

She wasn't lying.

Behind all the small fights and teasing, the two had always leaned in each other for emotional support.

Just as Mingyu had done for her, she has also always been the one person he called when he was having a tough time – remembering the time that she brought food over to his dorm for a week straight because he had refused to eat after his first girlfriend had broken up with him.

They had their moments, but at the end of the day, she genuinely did love Mingyu.

They have been together through all the season of their lives and she couldn't imagine going through any heartbreak or failed job interviews without having him by her side.

They were each other's person.

"So yeah, sue me if I realized I may have been in love with my best friend too." Y/n continued. "Mingyu has always been there and it's nice being taken care of someone who actually knows me."

"I know you." He defended. "Your favorite color is green, you hate that you're in the medical field because but you chose to go through with it because you didn't want to disappoint your parents, you hate the sound of utensils rubbing together. I know you, Y/n."

"Those are shallow facts." Y/n countered. "Minghao knows those things about me too."

"I know that you had never once thought of Mingyu the way you thought of me." He continued, taking a step closer to her. "What you and I had– have, that's never going to measure up to what you think you're trying to pull off with Mingyu."

"So what? Is this your way of saying you chose me all along?"

"There's no need to choose, y/n." He raised his voice, growing frustrated with her question. "I care about you, and you should know that!"

"How? Huh? You have some crazy way of showing you care." She exhasperated.

"Just because I don't show it the way your little golden boy shows it, doesn't mean I don't care. It doesn't mean I don't want you."

"So do it then, pick."

"I'm not picking." He shook his head. "Just please, just drop the act and–"

"Is everything alright out here?" Mingyu's voice boomed from the steps of the restaurant, jogging over to where they stood.

"Yeah, we just finished talking." Seungcheol brushed past Mingyu, his shoulder hitting him as he bounded back to the well lit building – a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped them.

She could hear her ears begin to ring as she let out deep breath she didn't realize she was holding in.

"You okay?" Mingyu asked in genuine concern, scanning her face to see if there were any tears that fell from her eyes. He noticed that she was gone for far too long, instantly putting two and two together once he realized Seungcheol was missing from the table. Mingyu had quickly excused himself from the group, not wanting whatever Seungcheol had in mind to ruin not only y/n's night but everyone elses.

Y/n nodded, taking a step closer to him – silently asking for his arms to wrap around her. Both for consolation and to shield from the wind.

"I don't want to go back in there."

"Then we won't." He replied, resting his chin on her head.

"He knows we're just pretending." Her cheek pressed against his chest, her voice in pure defeat.

"Should we take some acting classes?"

Looking up to meet his eyes, she couldn't help but let a small laugh escape her lips. "Should we call it off?"

"I mean, everyone else already bought it." He shrugged. "Why don't we just pretend until the end of the trip. We wouldn't want a break up and a wedding all in one trip."

"Jeonghan would kill us for stealing the attention from him if we announced a break up." Y/n agreed. "Just, chill out on the fake sexual tension okay? It gives me the creeps."

"Whatever you want, stink."

The two stood in silence, Mingyu patiently waiting for Y/n to calm down from the high emotions. She had always hated confrontations, avoiding it as much as possible.

And when it can't be helped, she needed to take a few minutes as a breather to ground herself back to reality – after she had finally processed what had finally happened.

She tended to allow her emotions take full control whenever she was forced to confront a problem; in this case Seungcheol. It wasn't until moments after when she is able fully grasp what had truly happened.

Almost as if she had an out of body experience, watching the scene unfold from afar.

"Do we fight a lot?" She asked, taking a step back from him.

"Just an enough amount of times, why do you ask?" He chuckled.

"That's why he's not buying it. Because we fight a lot."

Mingyu licked his lips, thinking of all the times that they would openly bicker and argue in front of their group. It wasn't in any intentions to hurt each other, it was all out of pure fun. It was just who they were.

"I mean, what if I tease you because I like you." He reasoned.

"What are we, teenagers?"

He shrugged. "Don't let him get in your head. If he doesn't buy it then he doesn't. Let's just enjoy the trip."

She nodded. "One more."

"What?"

"What's my favorite color?"

"What?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"Answer it."

"Well, for clothes; black and white. For little trinkets, green. For other things, pink. For men, red." He listed, a smug smile appearing on his face when he said red.

Laughing, she gave him a playful shove. "Let's go."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Shit." Mingyu quickly sat up in his bed, looking over to the other side of the room where she was buried deep under the covers on her own bed. "Y/n wake up!"

"Mm..." She grumbled, pulling a pillow over her head.

"We woke up late, everyone's headed up to the North Shore already." Mingyu scrambled around the room, gathering all his belongings needed for the one hour trip up to the northern point of the island.

"Fuck!" Y/n shot up, grabbing her phone to check the time.

7:42 am.

They had all agreed on leaving the hotel by 6am, a few of the boys wanting to catch the morning surf before the waves died down. They had been so tired from the day before and had forgotten to set an alarm before bed.

The group chat had been actively making jokes just an hour ago about how the two most likely have forgotten because they were far too busy doing..... other things the night before, deciding to head up without them.

"I'll text them that we're leaving soon." Y/n typed away as Mingyu slipped into the bathroom to change and wash up.

She was sitting on the bed waiting for her turn when a knock on the door pulled her out of her trance. She wasn't a morning person and it took her some time to finally wake her body up.

To her surprise, Seungcheol was behind the door. "I woke up late too." He grumbled.

"Morning." Mingyu nodded, walking out of the bathroom "Stink, bathroom's all yours."

"I'll wait for you guys in the lobby." He turned his heel.

Just what she needed. An hour ride with Mingyu and Seungcheol.

Fun.

The were in the car in no time, neither one of them uttering a single word to another as Mingyu cruised along highway.

There wasn't much to talk about, and she was more than happy to take in the views of the lush greenery that surrounded them – pulling her film camera out every once and a while to capture the beauty.

"Can we listen to more calmer music, the bass on this thing is making me car sick." Y/n groaned, reaching over to grab Mingyu's phone out of the cupholder – unlocking the device with ease.

He had been using the same passcode for nearly ten years and had yet to change it. Claiming that he'd just forget it.

"Here." Seungcheol's hand stretched out from the backseat, his palm opened with a single candy resting. "It's ginger candy. Helps with motion sickness. Figured you– we would need it."

Y/n hesitantly grabbed it from his hand. "Thanks."

Popping the hard candy in to her mouth, she went back to scrolling through Mingyu's endless playlists – unable to find the right one to match the current mood.

A particular one had caught her eye, letting out a laugh. "Is this– oh my god." She flashed the screen to him, earning a laugh from him as well. "Why do you have my getting ready playlist saved?"

"It has good songs!" He defended. "I listen to it when I work out."

This sent her into more fits of laughter, clutching her stomach as she imagined him bench pressing while the City Girls blared loudly through his headphones. "You're so dumb."

"Maneater keeps my reps on pace."

"Stop– oh my god stop my stomach hurts. Don't talk." She wiped the moisture from her eyes, using another free hand to hit his shoulder.

"If you're not going to pick a playlist, can I have the AUX?" Seungcheol wasn't entertained.

In fact, he didn't find a single part of the interaction funny.

Y/n sat back up, clearing her throat once she had finally calmed down – passing the wire that was once connected to Mingyu's phone over to him.

Within seconds the voice of her favorite artist played loudly in the car.

Supercut by Lorde.

This was also her playlist.

The one she had shared to him months before.

She knew he was staring at her.

She could feel his eyes.

As the beat began to pick up, she felt Mingyu's hand rest on her knee – his fingers drumming along to the song.

"In your car, the radio up. We keep tryin' to talk about us. I'm someone, you may be my love." He nodded, looking over at her – waiting for her to join in.

He also knew this was her favorite song – the two having their fair share of blaring this loudly in his car back home, singing at the top of their lungs as they sped through the road.

"I'll be your quiet afternoon crush. Be your violent overnight rush. Make you crazy over my touch." A small smile crept on her lips as she followed his movements, swaying their bodies to the side.

Moments like this was when she appreciated how well he was able to pick up on her body language and silent thoughts – easily distracting her from any thoughts that could cause her to feel uneasy.

"I should have stayed back." Seungcheol shook his head as he watched the two make fools of themselves – his fingers hovering over the skip button.

He didn't skip it. He allowed for the queue'd music to play on, opting to look down at his phone as they went on singing every single word of the song.

"I'm hungry." Y/n sighed, as the next song played.

"They're gonna meet us at the Sunrise Shack, can you hold off for a thirty-five more minutes?" Mingyu asked, glancing at the navigation.

"I packed some spam musubi's from last night." Seungcheol offered, digging into his backpack to pull out a small tightly wrapped rice and ham combo.

Shaking her head. "I don't like–"

"Y/n doesn't like cold warm food." Mingyu replied at the same time.

"What he said."

Maybe he really didn't know her.

And maybe, they weren't acting.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Y/n watched from her towel as the boys caught one wave after another, laughing whenever one of them lost their footing – sending them tumbling in to the water.

She was beginning to grow bored of sitting in the same spot, but considering the only other option was to walk around the stores a few miles down with Sunhee and Eunji, Jeonghan's fiance, she decided to stay back. She was in no mood to pretend to be close to the girl.

Not after last night.

In the moment of silence, the girl began to replay her and Seungcheol's conversation in her head.

She couldn't believe she was stupid enough to allow Mingyu to talk her into pretending to date him.

Even stupider to believe it would even work.

He was right. He did know her.

He knew when she was lying.

He knew that she wouldn't have dared considered seeing Mingyu in the same romantic light she had seen him.

But that was as far as it went.

He only knew her the same way the rest of their friends did.

Y/n began to think that maybe, if she would have waited it out longer instead of making him choose – things would have been different.

She would have gotten what she wanted.

"You okay?" Jeonghan's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Digging his board down into the sand, he took a seat next to her – looking out into the distance where the rest of the guys were slowly paddling back in.

"Yeah, just thinking." Y/n pulled her lips into a tight smile.

"You made the right choice, you know." He spoke.

"What?" She turned to face him.

"Picking Mingyu." He continued. "He's always had some weird soft spot for you. And I know I don't know much about what you and Seungcheol went through– but– You deserve someone who's willing to drop anything to make sure you're happy. You're Mingyu's Sunhee"

She felt guilty.

Aside from Minghao, Jeonghan was someone who she had grown close to within the group. She found many nights confiding all her secrets to him during their late study sessions at the library.

He was easy to open up to and it broke her heart when he had decided to take a job offer across the country – losing that one person she was able to make a genuine connection with.

She wanted to tell him that it was all a lie, that they were pretending just so she could get a rise out of Seungcheol in hopes that he would realize what he was missing.

But she couldn't.

She was embarrassed.

"Snorkle time!" Mingyu cheered with Seokmin, placing their boards right next Jeonghan's.

"Hi." Mingyu smiled down at her, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek; just missing her lips by a few centimeters.

Taking both of them by surprise, their eyes wide once he had straightened out – luckily for them, no one had seemed to catch on to this.

"Can we slow down on the itinerary, I'm exhausted." Minghao whined, dragging his board behind him – dropping down on to the sand.

"I second that." Jeonghan sighed, laying down. "I want to nap."

"No none of that." Mingyu shook his head, grabbing either one of their arms to pull them up. "Come on let's go go go go!"

"Please tell your him to shut up." Minghao groaned, plopping back down once Mingyu had let go.

"Bug, chill." She laughed as she watch Minghao curl into a ball – groaning about how his body will be feeling sore until next month.

"Boooooo!" He gave her a thumbs down. "Boooooo!"

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"You almost kissed me earlier."

"My bad." He yawned, keeping his eyes on the road.

After a long day of water activities and going around the shops of the North Shore, they were finally making their way back to the hotel. Y/n couldn't be more glad at the thought of being able to wash the salt water and sand off her skin and laying down on the soft mattress.

She was also grateful that Seungcheol didn't need to ride back with them – hopping into the Jeonghan's rental after they had finished off eating at the local shave ice stand.

"I was shocked too, I was too hyper at the time." Mingyu continued, fiddling with the nobs of the A/C unit when he noticed her shiver from the corner of his eyes. "Better?"

Y/n nodded. "No kissing okay? It's weird."

"You're a bad kisser, huh?" He teased.

"I don't know. Ask Seungcheol."

"Gross." He stuck his tongue out.

"Besides, pretty sure you have rabies."

Playing along with her joke, Mingyu rolling up his sleeve to flash her his bicep. "I got my shots up to date."

"Stupid." She snorted, going back to scrolling on her instagram – liking all the posts her friends have uploaded from today's activities.

Y/n felt warmth bubbling in her heart as she saw each and every carousel containing some sort of group pictures. She had missed this – when their group was complete, with no care in the world.

It brought her back to the time when they were all blissfully unaware of the real world; making the most of their college experience.

Before jobs, feelings, and schedules complicated their lives.

"Wanna hear something funny?" She asked, keeping her eyes trained on her screen.

She was looking at Sunhee's post – holding a bowl of shave ice nearly the size of her head with Seungcheol smiling widely in the back.

"Don't I ever?" Mingyu replied sarcastically.

"Jeonghan said I was your Sunhee."

Mingyu remained silent.

"Isn't that hilarious?" She turned her head to face his profile. "You would never put someone through what Seungcheol put me through because of me, right?"

"I'm afraid of commitment but I'm not an asshole, y/n." He glanced at her.

"I'm not Sunhee then... right?"

"I mean, in a way–"

"What do you mean in a way? We're nowhere near like them."

Their dynamic was a stark contrast to Seungcheol and Sunhee's.

Sure, they were very close – knowing each other better than they know themselves. But they knew boundaries.

They knew when to draw the line when it came to friendship, refusing to tread into dangerous waters because that's all they were.

Friends.

Two people, of the opposite gender, can be friends.

"Look, you're my best friend. We have our moments, but yeah- if you being my Sunhee means I'd do anything for you, then maybe?"

"You wouldn't do anything for me."

"Yeah I would." He defended.

"Mingyu, let's be real here." Y/n pressed.

The thing was, she didn't want to be Sunhee. She would never want to be the reason why her best friend's significant other felt insecure – the reason why they would come second best.

She would never wish her position on anyone.

Especially not someone who Mingyu loved.

"I am!" He chuckled. "Maybe I won't cancel on my date last minute for you for a little headache, but if it came down to making sure you're okay, yeah– I'll do anything for you."

He was being serious.

His tone matching his words.

"But I'm not Sunhee." She pressed.

She had her mind set on not wanting to be Sunhee.

She was y/n. She knew Jeonghan was simply making an analogy earlier, but the girl didn't want to be her. Not to Seungcheol, and defenitely not to Mingyu.

"No, you're right. You're y/n. My best friend" He sent her a warm smile, reaching over to give her knee a squeeze. "We're, as you would say, for lifers."

What the girl in the passenger seat didn't know was that she was his Sunhee.

She was the girl that he had fallen in love with.

The girl that he searched for in every other person he tried to date.

If she was his Sunhee then he was her Seungcheol.

taglist:

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken / @naturelvrgfstealer / @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter / @musingsofananxiouspotato / @f4iryjjosh / @gatorgirl007 / @girlwithimaginarybiaslist / @daisawa / @ttragiquee / @luchiet / @loveforred /@vannabanana1995 / @uniq-tastic / @porridgesblog / @haolistic / @bbl32 / @calumsfringe / @alsktudy / @chansbaybygirl / @alwaysalmostthere / @listxn / @soupbinlily

(tag list closed)

there are some who asked to be tagged but tumblr is being weird and not allowing me to so i am so so sorry!

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ghouljams · 8 months

Note

PLEAAAASEEEEE just a lil knight smooch on the hand, even just a light kiss to her lock of her hair

EVEN JUST LOVE FILLED GLANCES PLEAAAAASEEEEEEE

or maybe medivel konig romance i am so lovesick i wamt to hear fluff aND UR DENYING US WITH GHOST KNIGHT YEARNING

OK but only because I'm really beating this poor princess down in two other asks.

You spend most of your day with Ghost, he's your escort for every outing, your companion for every event. You'd think you'd get tired of seeing him all the time but you never do. You love seeing him, and you think he likes seeing you too.

"Good morning," you smile up at Ghost as he comes near, your favorite part of your mornings.

"Morning," he pulls out the chair next to you, grabbing a thick slice of bread as he sits. You don't even need to ask your maids to set a place for him anymore, don't need to coax Ghost into joining you for breakfast. He leans his elbows against the table and breaks the bread apart between his hands, as he watches you.

"How'd you sleep?" You ask, too casual, he nudges you with his knee. "Did you sleep well?" You try again. He's worse than your old etiquette tutor sometimes.

"Same as usual, were you alright after the-" he pauses, clicks his tongue, like he's annoyed he doesn't have a polite word for it. He doesn't want to say "tantrum" but you know he's thinking it.

"I- yes. Thank you." You stare down at your hands, embarrassed. You're too old to be acting like that. Ghost stares at you a long moment before setting his bread on his plate. He reaches across the table to grab meat and fruit, filling your plate before you can stop him.

"Eat, you'll feel better." He plucks another slice of bread free of its warm basket and butters it. You watch him slide the little silver knife against the crumb and he stops, pointing the utensil at your plate. "Eat," he's not asking you.

You pick up your fork and knife to do as he says. You really don't know why you bother listening to him, you're in charge, not him. It's just that, you sort of like doing what he says, he always looks so pleased when you do. He doesn't even look at you when you take your first bite, but his eyes still smile and you know it's for you. His smiles are only ever for you.

"Good girl," He mumbles, sliding his bread onto your plate, neatly jam and buttered just the way you like it.

"You're free to leave," you tell your maids, glancing at them over your shoulder. You know they're hovering, waiting to refill your tea or bring another plate of food. You also know they're waiting for more information on last night's... fit. Gossips the lot of them. "You've left the pot, if I need more tea Ghost will serve me. Go."

The maids exchange a glance and drop to curtsy before scurrying out. You go back to eating. Ghost waits a beat before removing his mask and serving himself breakfast. You don't bother with glances or peaking at his face, you look. It's your right to look, he's yours after all.

"You're staring," he grumbles. Astute observation, you think with a smile. You know what he means, you spear a strawberry with your fork and pop it in your mouth.

"I'm eating."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he hums, ignoring you in favor of his own meal. Does he know that you only breach etiquette to hear him correct you? Does he see you behave as a perfect princess for others and think he did that? No, you think he must know you're teasing him.

You set your fork down and reach to wipe away the crumbs that stick to his lip. Ghost catches your hand before you can touch him, his tongue darting out to do what your finger would have. His eyes hold yours, each of you waiting for the other to pull back. You don’t want to.

His lips are so much warmer than in your dream, softer, more substantial as Ghost bows his head to press them against your knuckles. You tilt your head, watching him turn your hand to kiss your palm and the delicate skin of your wrist. He looks at you with every promise in his eyes, and you love him for it.

"Good morning, my lady," he murmurs, holding your hand to his cheek. Your heart clenches, fingers curling against the stubble on his jaw.

"Good morning, my knight." You whisper back. The breath he lets out is almost pained, far too heavy for breakfast. He kisses your palm again, and you almost understand why before he drops it. I love you, you both seem to think at each other, I love you.

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ineedtherapydesperately · 2 months

Text

love the whole idea of vaggie and charlie only kissing on screen AFTER vaggie's true nature has been revealed bc that makes the whole reveal more impactful like charlie still loves and cares for vaggie despite knowing she's an angel and they finally no longer have any secrets between them so they can kiss while being wholly genuine to themselves yk

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #screaming i love them #no but seriously it's their first on screen kiss and they're finally on equal footing #like i hate the pacing of the show give us more angst #but also chaggie my loves #please season two have more development like i need these two idiots to work through everything instead of it taking place off screen #i love these gays

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inoreuct · 1 month

Note

more sanji drinking angst plis,,, 🙏🏼😁

y’know, it’s normal when zoro drinks. he has an iron liver and a sky-high tolerance. he get mildly tipsy with the amount of alcohol sufficient to kill a regular man.

when sanji drinks, though, it’s usually… not very good.

they’re in the galley, have been since dinner. zoro’s drowsy and full and slumped over the table with his chin in his hand as he watches sanji scrub at the dishes until they squeak, divested of his suit jacket and shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow, and the cook looks haggard. they’ve all been expecting it, really, what with Whole Cake being a fucking doozy— but sanji’s been holding it together perfectly. big smiles and neatly-pressed suits and coiffed hair and all.

zoro knows him well enough to know that he’s due to break at some point. still, tonight is the first time he’s seen sanji like this; like he’d just decided to say fuck it all and throw pretence to the wind. maybe it had been thanks to the emptiness of the galley, save the both of them. maybe sanji had considered it safe because zoro was in no place to judge.

but when sanji had picked up that bottle of rum, he hadn’t put it down until there was nothing left.

zoro had let him drink. the cook hadn’t even been smoking any more than usual— hadn’t had a single hair out of place, no sign of the pressure except the strain at the edges of his smile. everybody had been walking on eggshells for the past few days and sanji had just kept going like nothing was wrong, which zoro knows means quite a lot is wrong, because sanji’s a self-sacrificial bastard who wouldn’t be able to ask for help if his life depended on it.

didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt, though. he’s felt like he couldn’t breathe, the whole of last week; it doesn’t feel right seeing the cook with a bottle between his lips instead of a cigarette, liquor wetting the corners of his mouth instead of smoke. it makes part of zoro tighten into a dead knot. on one hand, it’s an unspoken show of trust— deliberately left alone so as to not draw attention to it, but one all the same. sanji would never let himself go in front of anyone else like this. maybe a few months earlier he’d think the cook just didn’t care enough for his opinion and get all offended, but now?

sanji knows he’s here. he’s never unaware of his surroundings, and especially now after… everything. he’s believing that zoro won’t judge him, and he won’t. he doesn’t. but enough is enough, and sanji’s grip on the edge of the plate is tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

it’s almost a relief in a really twisted way. zoro’s been hovering by the sidelines, sleeping with one eye open and waiting for sanji to crack just so he can catch all the pieces before the cook falls apart completely, and it seems like this is it.

his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. “alright, let’s get you to bed.”

“no.” sanji doesn’t stop scrubbing. he doesn’t even bother looking up. “why?”

zoro scoffs. “because you’re fucking drunk, cook. you’ve been washing that plate for five minutes.”

“well maybe it’s just not fucking clean, yeah?” sanji spits, quiet vitriol leadening his words even with his head bowed, and his breathing is jerky as zoro walks forward.

“oi.” it doesn’t come out harshly, exactly, but he needs sanji to know that he isn’t fucking around with this. “What the hell’s going on?”

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean you don’t—”

“i don’t know!”

zoro lurches back at the outburst as the cook whips around, seething within the span of a second, plate dropped carelessly into the water in the sink. he hears it thunk when it hits the bottom.

“i don’t know, alright?” sanji laughs, eyes wild. “nothing’s wrong. everything’s wrong. everything is fucking perfect and i feel like i’m fucking dying inside.” his voice cracks right before he takes a visible breath and turns sharply, dipping his hand under the water to grab the plate and sponge again.

zoro watches his shoulders tremble. every movement of his now is precise and carefully calculated; he’s moving like a fucking robot and zoro hates it. hates the way his spine looks rigid enough to snap with a touch. hates the way his face is a placid mask, still water with a storm roiling beneath. zoro doesn’t know how to approach this other than with barbed words and concern thinly veiled as confrontation. he doesn’t know what to do other than be here because it’s better than not being here at all.

sanji’s hands have been scrubbed pink and raw. “get out, mosshead.”

“no.”

the cook’s cuticles are peeling, his fingertips pruned. he never lets either of them get this bad. “i said get out—”

“and I said no.” zoro crosses his arms. he counts three seconds of silence before sanji snaps.

“god, for once could you fucking listen?!” the cook snarls, rounding on zoro like a cornered animal and waving his arms. “i don’t want to talk to you right now! i do not want you here! so please, fuck off and— put me down, you piece of shit!” sanji borderline screams, struggling and wiggling over zoro’s shoulder as he’s hauled up and marched out of the galley.

zoro winces as the toe of a steel-capped oxford jams into his ribs, digging in deeper as sanji grunts with the effort. he doesn’t know where he’s going but they end up outside the infirmary, and he shoulders the door open before depositing sanji on the bed without preamble. “stay,” he grunts, ignoring the noises of outrage and turning to go get water.

“you can’t tell me what to do,” sanji spits from behind him, cheeks red from more than just anger as he pushes himself unsteadily to his feet. he either doesn’t realise that he’s listing to the side or he doesn’t care.

“sit down or I’ll make you.”

the cook barks a laugh that snaps in the air like a neck in rope. “try! i fucking dare you, marimo, you—”

zoro tackles him down and he screeches like a trapped cat, trying to escape even as the swordsman pins his legs and shoves his shoulders down into the bunk. “you are drunk. stop it.”

“why?” sanji shouts in his face. the cook is straining against him, all wild eyes and bared teeth, shoulders jerking with a sardonic laugh. “don’t wanna fight anymore?”

“no. i don’t.” the air is suddenly too quiet, too heavy, with something zoro doesn’t know if he should name. he watches as the cook’s face falls and twists into something sullen as he tries one last time to jerk his way out of zoro’s hold. “not like this.”

their ship rocks gently as zoro slowly eases off, shifting his weight back and sitting on the edge of the mattress with a soundless, weary sigh. there’s still a stubborn set to sanji’s chin even as he lays there on his back, unmoving from where zoro put him— leave it to him to be contrary for the sake of being contrary. the swordsman takes a deep breath to suppress an eye roll and opens his mouth to say something—

“it hurts.”

zoro stills, turning so he can see sanji better. “what hurts, cook?”

“everything.”

the blond is staring at the ceiling, unblinking and unreadable. the fabric of his slacks is riding up and zoro swallows down the urge to curl a hand around his pale ankle for comfort. he tells himself he doesn’t know where the urge to soothe came from, but he knows, he knows— this melancholy is something that sanji buries so deep, none of them catch even a glimpse of it on a normal day. his face is a blank slate, his usual fire banked, and he looks so drained. an cracked shell of himself running on empty. “i don’t want to feel it. i don’t want to feel anything,” he continues, softly enough that zoro has to strain to hear, leaning in instinctively.

glossy blue eyes flick over. golden hair scrunches against the off-white sheets as sanji turns his face towards him and whispers, “doesn’t that make me exactly like them?”

no. zoro swallows, at the same time both too wet and too dry, feeling a little like he’s been gutted with a dull knife. he says a mental to hell with it and slowly shifts his hand to wrap his fingers around sanji’s ankle, just a gentle grip, his thumb resting beneath the notch of bone. he can hear the soft sounds of the waves outside as it melds with sanji’s breathing, as he opens his mouth and comes up dry for things to say. “…get some sleep, curls.”

“can’t.” sanji purses his lips, shrugging a shoulder as he looks away like it’s no big deal. “can’t sleep. not well, at least. not since…”

zoro feels his own heart thud against his ribs as his gaze slips over sanji’s face, the redness rimming his eyes and the dark circles beneath. “i’m sleeping with you tonight,” he decides.

the cook makes an aborted noise of indignation before apparently deciding that it isn’t worth the effort. “we can’t fit two people in a bed.”

zoro shrugs, unaffected in the face of the venomous look sanji shoots him. “we can try.”

sanji mutters something to the ceiling under his breath. the swordsman pretends not to hear it.

they end up crammed onto the infirmary bed, sanji squashed against the wall and zoro almost falling off. the blond wiggles around in discomfort for five minutes before sitting bolt upright with a hissed curse and undoing his dress shirt in a frenzy; zoro stifles a laugh as he balls it up and hurls it at the desk across the room before flopping back down with a loud huff.

the cook scrunches himself up, spine pressed against the wall and one knee pulled up between them to maintain the distance, pointed at zoro’s gut as a subtle threat. “i’m not gonna bite you, y’know,” zoro grumbles. here he is doing this out of goodwill and this is how he’s treated.

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” sanji snips in reply. “also, you stink.”

“no i don’t. i just showered.”

“irrelevant.”

“priss.”

“moron.”

“spoiled.”

“i have standards, you sentient piece of kelp.”

“you—” zoro grits out, before he stalls. somehow, throughout this whole exchange, they’d inched closer and closer together and now sanji’s shoulder is digging into his breastbone, his breath warm across zoro’s cheek even as a brush of his skin above the loose, low front of zoro’s shirt feels completely opposite. “why’re you so fuckin’ cold?” he mutters, briskly rubbing at sanji’s upper arms before the cook bats him away with a startled hiss.

“don’t—” he cuts off and huffs a harsh breath, sneering in the dark as he digs for the right word, “—coddle me.”

“why not?” zoro shoots back. the words are out of his mouth faster than he can process, but it’s too late to take them back. “give me one good reason and i’ll stop. just one.”

the quiet that falls into place after that is broken by the sound of sanji’s swallow and nothing else. it’s nearly pitch-black; they’d put out the lamp on the wall and the infirmary has no windows. if zoro strains his eye he can see sanji’s outline curled close to his own front, golden hair darkened to honey and arms wrapped around himself.

he recalls how it had felt to have fine bones beneath his hand. how the cook hadn’t kicked him off.

the hand he rests on sanji side is tentative. barely-there pressure, a ghost of a touch with enough space for sanji to back away. he settles his palm down more firmly after a few seconds, tracking his thumb up and down the bumps of sanji’s ribs, and he barely stops his breath from catching when the cook wiggles away from the wall and presses his spine into zoro’s hand.

sanji’s looking at him. he can see the occasional flutter of long lashes, feel the weight of the cook’s attention like sanji’s preparing to say something, but it never comes. a soft breath slips from his lips before zoro feels a hand curl around his waist, fingers curling into his shirt.

“sanji.”

the cook heaves a long-suffering sigh. it doesn’t hide how he’s affected by zoro using his real name; zoro can read him too well for that. knows him too well for that. “what.”

zoro readjusts, fingertips pressing into the small of sanji’s back to pull him closer, and wonder of wonders, the cook lets him. “you’re nothing like them.”

he pretends he doesn’t feel sanji’s arm tighten around him after a few seconds. he notices that his shirt’s damp right before he falls asleep, right where sanji has his face buried in his shoulder.

he doesn’t mention any of it.

the next morning is… interesting.

zoro had woken to an empty bed, with the sheets just barely warm and hazy recollections of a lithe body tucked to his side, a leg thrown over his and soft hair under his chin. he stretches and ambles down to the galley, scratching at his stomach beneath his shirt as he yawns, and right on cue— sanji’s disdainful little tongue click reaches his ears, and he smiles. everything’s back to normal, then.

there’s more of the usual; luffy getting yelled at to leave the eggs alone, i don’t care if you’re hungry, they are raw, and nami and robin being handed their special little tiny cups of coffee and tea respectively. the rest of the crew filters in, and zoro people-watches from his spot on the ratty corner couch before he eventually gets up and slides into his seat at the table.

but when sanji takes his spot beside him, it feels different. the cook’s made onigiri for breakfast, the plate set down just a little closer to zoro’s side than usual before he sits, and zoro pauses with his chopsticks in the air as an ankle bumps into his.

not roughly, or painfully, nowhere near, no. just a reminder. a small nudge that could say any possible number of things, but from the way sanji’s gaze meets his before darting away, he’d guess it’s the thank you that their cook always has so much trouble saying. it’s never a lack of gratitude— more of a refusal to acknowledge that he needed help in the first place, that he accepted it, but zoro will take what he can get.

the circles under sanji’s eyes aren’t quite so dark anymore.

zoro knocks back. he feels the rasp of his boot laces against the heel of sanji’s patent leather oxford, and neither of them pull away. the swordsman presses his lips together and takes a big bite to hide his smile, failing momentarily when sanji immediately starts berating his abysmal table manners, marimo, honestly, if you choke i will leave you to die, and yeah, sure. back to normal.

he catches sanji’s eye again, sky-cornflower-ocean blue, and he wonders what sanji could be seeing in his to make his face soften like that.

normal, and maybe a little something new.

(he isn’t quite sure what to do the following night. sanji’s already in his own bunk when he slips in for a quick few hours of shut-eye, but it isn’t long before he feels someone climbing in with him, and he just knows instinctively without even needing to open his eye. they’ve got limbs hanging out here and there but they fit reasonably well and zoro wakes with sanji’s sleep shirt tucked in his fist and his thin blanket pulled up around his shoulders.

it goes on like this night after night to the point where their crew knows, he thinks. even if zoro discounts the fact that most of them share a bunkroom, they’ve still got to know something’s up; sanji glows like sunlight reflecting off the ocean now, real smiles and laughs that have him tossing his head back and holding his stomach, eyes in sapphire half-moons. robin brings it up offhandedly one day and zoro hums that proper sleep’s doing their cook good— she gives him that look that she does, and he turns away with a smile that he hides in his arm.

the first time sanji finds him in the crow’s nest, he’s still asleep when zoro’s watch ends. the cook’s stretched out on the bench above as zoro sits on the floor, hand draped down against zoro’s collarbone, his face so peaceful that zoro can’t— fuck, he can’t wake him.

and it can’t be comfortable lying on his own arm like that; zoro sits down and carefully pushes him up until sanji’s leaning on his shoulder, that sharp nose tucked under his jaw, and drifts asleep.)

(he stirs awake before sanji’s gone. his eye flutters open to find the cook mid-yawn, working out a crick in his neck and bathed in early-morning light, warm and golden. the cook realises he’s watching and freezes, shoulders going tense and stiff—

he deflates a little when zoro blinks at him, sleep-warm and bleary. “gotta make breakfast, marimo,” he murmurs, reaching out after a moment’s hesitation.

the hand that cups zoro’s cheek is gently callused and somehow familiar. he turns into it like a flower to the sun and breathes in something that he never even realised he’d gotten used to, olive oil and shoe polish and orange blossom pomade. “i know,” he replies, pressing the words into sanji’s palm, and a thumb drags across his cheekbone.

“need anything before i go?” sanji asks, and they both know it’s half a joke. what could he possibly give zoro in here? a dumbbell sandwich?

that other half, though— it’s far too serious. a cold plunge of water through zoro’s muddled early-morning brain. he knows what he wants, but zoro also knows that patience is a virtue for a reason.

the cook already has a hard enough time letting people in. zoro doesn’t want to push. the hand against his cheek is enough for him, even if it is all sanji could ever want, and so he slips the blond a wry grin. “onigiri?”

“you— ugh, fine.” sanji huffs. “anything else?”

zoro frowns, growing increasingly convinced that this is some sort of trap. these are unprecedented levels of generosity. “…protein shake?”

it takes all of two seconds before sanji puts his face into his hands, taking a deep breath before zoro hears something about having to do everything myself, don’t i? the cook plants his hands on his hips, tapping his foot with one brow arched. “of all the people in the world,” he mutters through his teeth, advancing on zoro with enough of a menacing air that the swordsman leans back into the backrest, “of course it had to be you.”

“me what?” zoro says warily, eyeing sanji up and down, and opens his mouth to continue before a fist grips his collar and there’s a brush of contact at his temple— a kiss, he realises, before all the thoughts drain out of his fucking brain.)

(he’s still reeling when he stumbles his way to breakfast. still wide-eyed as he washes the plates, for once, without complaint. it’s when it’s just the two of them, when zoro twists around to ask a question that he hasn’t yet phrased, that arms lock around his waist and sanji’s forehead presses to his nape.

they’re quiet for a long, long while. “you remind me that i’m not like them, y’know,” sanji breathes, barely loud enough to be heard.

zoro turns in his hold, hands dripping all over the floor, fuck, the cook’ll make him clean that up later, he knows and he isn’t even mad about it. “what do you mean, curls?”

sanji leans into him, all sharp edges and bony joints softened by lean muscle and zoro’s fondness, fingers long and thin and laced together over zoro’s hip. “i’m pretty damn sure they’ve never felt like this.”)

(not much changes after that. franky does make them a bigger bunk to share, though, and they fight perhaps even more fiercely now; afternoons are spent toying with each other across the deck, pushing their limits, pushing each other higher until nami yells at them to stop making a racket. zoro doesn’t pretend that he can’t tell when sanji needs a little more contact, keeping him close when perfectly filed nails dig into his shirt. sanji takes care of them all like he always does, and he lets zoro take care of him— most of the time, at least. it’s still a toss-up on whether he’ll explode or break down whenever anyone tries to help him, but with zoro it’s either both in succession or neither.

sometimes he picks a fight and then cries afterwards. others, he concedes to being wrapped in a ratty old blanket and tucked into zoro’s chest where he can hide from the world.

he sleeps through every night now, though. he’s fiery and sharp-tongued and bright-eyed and when he’s had a bit too much to drink he just gets loud, fooling around with their captain and cackling with nami in a corner of the galley between conspiratorial whispers, but zoro can’t deny him anything even though he’s fairly sure they’re plotting his downfall.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.)

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANONNNN #will never get tired of angsting this babygirl. i’m sorry he just has so many Issues #BUT I ALWAYS GIVE THEM HAPPY ENDINGS ALRIGHT SO IT BALANCES OUTTTT #it’s almost 4am this time this is actually horrid #GOODNIGHT ZOSAN NATIONNN #zosan #one piece #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece sanji #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #sanji #zoro #ino writes #ino’s ask box

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