#but pre relationship i guess

[rauchendesgnu]

So, I'm obsessed with the Magnus Archives now...

...which means that I'll try to write more for both Sandman and TMA (I'm not quite done with Season 5 yet, but we're getting there).

For now (because I'm not quite done with my first Elias comic), I wrote a thing.

[camembri]

you wanted zoro to be on whole cake island to fulfil your weird desire to see zoro punish sanji. I wanted zoro on whole cake island because I think he's stupid enough to right place wrong time the plan and accidentally marry Sanji in full view of the whole wedding party in what becomes the most elaborately constructed comedy of errors ever written. we are NOT the same.

[chrollogy]

a crush ᰔ happy one year with yuscara !

“and then, i found myself breathless at the sight of you. is this what humans feel when they’re in love?”

hehe art by me don’t save/repost.

[necrotic-nephilim]

PLEASE MAKE A MASTERPOST I watched titans Just for the gay shit and it delighted me. and then Hush and Titans Tower and then the GK game.....there's so much

THE WORST PART IS MY TAGS GOT CUT OFF ON THAT POST. i had other tags talking how absolutely gay JayTim comes across in Titans, in the clips i've seen. having Jason save Tim and then go on to train him is... an interesting direction to go with them but the clip was so gay i had to send it to my partner so they could witness it. had the classic "let's go a few rounds" shit and *everything*. like it was baffling and if it wasn't "batcest" i do think it would've taken the fandom by storm as a ship. i have stopped and started that show at least three times bc i always get too frustrated to get past s1, but for JayTim, i think i gotta.

making a masterpost of every significant JayTim relationship throughout DC media wouldn't be *too* hard, i feel like. i've done one focusing just on the New-52, and i've covered all the pre-Flashpoint ground through various posts here. ironically the hardest thing would be Rebirth, because i can't think of many Rebirth era comics i've read with them significantly interacting outside of Robin: Knight Terrors. and i'd have to actually get through Titans.

also for the sake of completion, Wayne Family Adventures would probably get its own section. which is the real torture for me bc i have beef with WFA.

but. i *could* do it. and it would take me like a month, it'd be such a fun pet project. i think exploring what seems to be a recurring consistent theme across every universe could be incredibly fascinating. what similarities and differences exist and what tends to cause those similarities and differences. it'd be a magnum opus. but more chaotic. and gay.

anyway you're right. now i gotta. it'll take me three business weeks to catalog all of it and also add meaningful commentary. but i can and i will.

[july-19th-club]

giggling and kicking my feet and prancing into my armchair to watch this annoying guy do embarrassing things on my tv show with his hot friend . and also Tim is there

[storfulsten]

Whitty And Bf Personality Swap? Lovely Art By The Way, Truly Inspiring. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

hm I guess k, not feeling the most creative but here lol

idk lol

mostly based on this bc idk thought the vibes looked fitting in theory lmao:

[bearimba]

Lance isn't allowed in the kitchen for a reason :D

[starflungwaddledee]

Uhm... Serious question, and so sorry if I'm bothering you...

But... Well... It was stayed in the rules... No "platonically friendship" in the Shipganza, right?

Wanted to ask just to make sure. The idea I have is solely about friendship...

So sorry for bothering u...

hi there nokk0!

yes; the starstruck shipaganza is explicitly a valentine's day themed event, that means that all pairings and prompts are assumed to be romantically coded.

the metric for romance itself can be quite loose (i do personally tend to veer QPP myself). but i'm not taking prompts for "they're just friends" or siblings/familial type relationships during the event!

however, this mostly applies to things that i myself am drawing for the shipaganza event, or pieces that get added onto the masterlist!

for folks who want to make something themselves rather than send a prompt in to me, i always delight in seeing OC interactions of any kind! if you wanted to imagine or draw a platonic friendship interaction with you OC and starstruck, you absolutely can do that anytime!! it just won't be considered part of the shipaganza event specifically, so that there's no confusion!

[i-like-anything-water]

here, have sum crack:

The next time she'll see Rose and Juleka, she'll gift then a basket of treats. Some of said treats will also have some beef cubes rather than bean paste as a form of payback. Because, good God, she shouldn't have listened to them the moment they said:

"It's a story about a reincarnated girl and her bully but it's really nice!"

Marinette blinked at the duo, who were holding up a set of novels. They've decided to have a spontaneous anime marathon after school and because of different reasons, Alya, Mylene and Ivan couldn't join them.

She read the title of the novels, 'I favor the Villainess' in pink lettering.

The two girlfriends insisted on watching the anime which was apparently complete and there hadn't been an akuma attack yet so she let herself get dragged into it. The story was interesting, very very interesting.

And Claire seemed very very familiar.

Perhaps she should have stopped Juleka and Rose when it was already past 10 pm and it was a school night. Maybe she could have gotten some bit of sleep before an akuma decided to annoy everyone in Paris by rampaging across the city at bloody 2 AM. Ladybug was irritated, moreso when Chat almost slammed into a building out of sleepiness. Thankfully, the Akuma wasn't much of a nuisance.

The lack of sleep, however, made up for it.

Maybe she should ask Master Fu if there's any way to recruit more Miraculous holders incase of Akumas in ungodly hours. They were still students after all, plus she doubts Hawkmoth doesn't work as well. Maybe she could ask Hawkmoth instead to create a schedule for all the Akumas. Negotiate and stuff.

Anyways, going to school sleep deprived, irritated and having an anime marathon the night before was brewing for disaster. Maybe her Ladybug luck can spare her for today.

"Well if it isn't my favorite person, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Nope. Tough luck.

Marinette groaned, her irritation rising as Chloé's haughty voice reached her ears. Truthfully, the blonde wasn't that annoying anymore ever since she decided to get the help she needed. She's actually been doing pretty well, if her small progress at being a better version of herself was to go by.

However, Marinette was sleep deprived, hangry, and also very much a bisexual disaster.

Chloé Bourgeois, former bully turned hesitant all- wait, bully? Bully, bully, bull- oh. Aha, bingo. Didn't Rae almost made Claire back off because she kept flirting with her?

"What's with that creepy smile on your face, Dupain-Cheng?!"

Marinette smiled, her remaining braincells evaporating as she looked up at the startled blonde, "You're so pretty."

"W-what?!"

Marinette shrugged, completely unaware of everything happening around her, "I mean, if you're going to call me by my full name you can have it. Chloé Dupain-Cheng, it suits you."

Everything was dead silent. Dead ass? A voice eerily similar to Rae Taylor in her head, asked.

Dead ass, Marinette replied.

She doesn't remember much after what happened but she does remember Chloé going red in the face, sputtering something that was too fast that could give Hawkmoth's receding hairline a run for its money and Alya asking her after Chloé practically ran from the conversation if she's finally lost it.

Okay, Alya, rude.

After some explanation from Alya, a two hour breakdown and panic attack, and a three hour talk with Tikki, she was already down in their bakery on a school night to prepare Chloé's favorite treats.

Was she purposely making herself sleep deprived again to actually give the treats? Maybe. Would they talk about it? Hopefully.

Is she excited? Well.

Raise Y/our hands was playing in the background and Rae Taylor seemed to be lifting her spirits. And maybe her chances of being a masochist as well.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Aela the Huntress: You kissed Farkas!?!

Artanis: I didn't know what else to do! He had those big sad eyes!

Aela: Well, sure, you had no choice.

[riseoftheselfshipper]

Chris: I can't believe you and Gail broke your bed last night.

Dov: Yeah, what were you even doing?

Saskia: Um...

[Last night]

Gail: Bet you can't jump high enough to touch the ceiling, shorty.

Saskia: Guess again, blondie!

[spacedlexi]

Do you think Vi and Minnie were still dating when Minnie and Sophie got captured or do you think things were going awry and they broke up before the twins got captured?

they were definitely still dating i dont think we have any reason to believe they werent? like im p sure all evidence points to dating. but i definitely think their relationship was awry at that point, and they were just in a weird middle zone, at least on minnies side. minnie definitely had her frustrations if her words to vi in the woods are anything to go by, and i think violet also not having a response to it and instead just retreating says something about her/their relationship

i do think violet loved minnie and just wanted to make her happy (even if in doing so gave herself the "short end of the stick" in the relationship), and violet seeing minnie as the fish i think says a lot about how positively she viewed her (and i think her getting so flustered at clem saying shes the fish is because those are secretly traits she aspires to, but has yet to recognize in herself). i think minnies behavior towards a kidnapped violet shows us she still cares about her too even if things werent perfect. so if minnie had never been kidnapped, i dont think they wouldve ever actually split up, even if the relationship was turbulent.

what Really causes them to split is the change in the person minnie has become. violet (grief stricken and blaming herself), does not recognize this person, and doesnt like who she sees. someone who would rather hurt the people they supposedly care about to save themselves. unfortunately a kidnapped violet learns this lesson too late

[aiyexayen]

changheng/dongfang qingcang

❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜

"You looked like you were jealous."

Dongfang Qingcang almost scoffs, but he keeps his tone aimed toward placating as Xiao Lanhua plops down beside him on their bed and snuggles up to his side, right where she belongs.

"Don't be ridiculous."

He keeps his voice low to match the peaceful stillness of the room, reaching over to brush a lock of her hair back from her cheek. It's true that his touch is possessive but that's certainly not outside the realm of the expected. "We've long settled this--centuries ago," he says. "Why should I be so insecure I can't see my wife kiss her lover goodbye, when I know she's coming back to my arms?"

As if to prove it, Dongfang Qingcang wraps one of those said arms around her shoulders and gives her a reassuring squeeze, relishing the way her body relaxes against him.

In truth, he had even been busy enough this time with the skirmishes in the north that he had barely the time and presence of mind each night to miss Xiao Lanhua. Where would he obtain the energy to be jealous over her too?

As he watches, the corners of her lips turn up. Her face looks particularly round and impish in the moonlight streaming from the balcony; her eyes laughing and serious at the same time as they turn up to meet his, so bright and clear and full of love. The vision she makes strikes him like lightning and Dongfang Qingcang wants nothing more than to gather her to him, warm and soft, and ease the pleasant ache burning hotter in his core with every minute she's back in his bed.

"No," Xiao Lanhua says, lips widening into something a little too knowing for comfort. "You looked like you were jealous of me."

Dongfang Qingcang freezes and Xiao Lanhua takes the opportunity to pull out of his grasp.

He sees the memory as if it's playing out before him once again--Changheng's hands on Xiao Lanhua's face, on her neck, cradling her close with sweet emotion. It was gentle and then it wasn't, Xiao Lanhua reaching up to bury one hand in Changheng's hair, the hint of his startled moan as she deepened the kiss.

Dongfang Qingcang had felt...something. Something like swallowing ice, the way it burns cold all the way down. And then he had carefully looked away from the feeling, breathing steadily as though nothing had disrupted it to begin with.

How many thousands of years will they be together before his wife stops finding vulnerabilities of his to expose? When will she finally run out of ways to dig into the heart of him and disrupt something new, a gardener determined to make use of every inch of fertile land?

He can't look away now; Xiao Lanhua crawls into his lap and presses cool hands against his cheeks to keep his eyes only on hers. Adrenaline lights up Dongfang Qingcang's veins--a moment of uncertainty, anticipation.

"I...I--"

There is only the heavy thud of his pulse and the sensation of being pinned, seen. Words fail.

If he's lucky, he knows, the answer is never.

"Just think about it," Xiao Lanhua says, and kisses him.

It is the fullness of her clemency, a cool rain against flushed-warm cheeks, and Dongfang Qingcang falls gladly into it with a sigh. But it is not truly freedom, nor is it shelter from his own desire.

Just think about it, as if he can do anything else now, the memory of hands and lips tangling with the reality of skin on skin as Xiao Lanhua pushes him back onto the bed.

Just think about it, more a curse than an offer, as he searches her mouth for the lingering taste of another.

Just think about it, and as Dongfang Qingcang lays sated in the rumpled aftermath of their reunion, he does.

Perhaps...perhaps he is overdue for a visit to the mortal realm, and a drink with his would-be zhiji.

[harringroveera]

“Are you listening to me, Heather?”

“Yes, I am,” Heather said, rolling her eyes as she pressed the handset to her ear. “I’m listening to how much you blabber about your pretty boy, Billy. He’s so gorgeous. He’s so adorable! Have you seen him in his sailor costume!”

Billy snickered, his voice echoing through the phone. “Do I talk about him that much?”

“Only during work, after work, and before work.” She shrugged, brushing the nail file against the freshly painted nails. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I did this to myself, honestly,” she said, sighing softly. “I got you two together, now I’m suffering the consequences.” 

“Heather!” her mom’s voice echoed from inside the kitchen, and Heather looked up.

“What, Mom?” 

“Heather!” 

“I gotta go,” Heather said. “My mom is playing the game where she’ll keep calling my name until I come in to see her.”

“Want to go to the mall with me and Chris later?” Billy asked. “You don’t have a shift today, right?” 

“No.” She pursed her lips, pushing up to her feet. “Okay, yeah, sure. Maybe we can catch a movie.” 

“Cool. I’m picking you up in an hour.” 

She let out an approving hum, hanging up the phone and dropping the nail file to the couch before she strutted into the kitchen, where her mom was busy pouring orange juice into a thermos while she hummed to a song.

“Heather—”

“I’m here! God, Mom,” she said, stopping short before the kitchen counter with a forced smile on her lips. “What do you need?” 

“Okay, I need you to bring this lunch box to your dad,” her mom said. “It’s late now, but if you drive there, it’ll be faster. Your dad doesn’t like it when I don’t bring it on time.” 

“Why can’t he bring his own lunch in the morning when he goes to work like any capable person would?” 

“Don’t speak that way, darling.” 

Heather rolled her eyes, gazing at the brown lunch box on the counter. “I thought you always brought it to him, Mom.” 

“Oh, yes, but I have a spa appointment with Dorothy, Terese, and Karen. I won’t be back until later.”

“Why do you need to go to a spa?” 

“I’m going to the pool tomorrow!” 

Of course. Heather’s lips curled downward, but she didn’t say anything. Billy had a shift tomorrow, and that explained it.

“Don’t hang around with Karen Wheeler and her friends too much, Mom,” she said, turning around to grab a brown bag from the cabinet.

Her mom seemed surprised, though, as her eyes slightly widened when Heather came to put the lunch box and the thermos in the bag.

“Why would you say such a thing, darling?” 

She shrugged. “It’s just a general observation thing,” she said, taking the bag into her hand. “I’m going. And I won’t be back for lunch.” 

“Why—”

“I’m going out with Chrissy.” 

She left the kitchen without saying another word, going through the back door to the garage. It wasn’t that far from their house to the Hawkins Post, and afterwards she could head to Billy’s house, picking him up instead. Just one conversation with her mom had ruined the mood. She needed to get her mind off it for a while.

The mixtape Billy had put in the other day was still in the stereo, and Heather let it blast loudly on the way there, finding herself tapping on the steering wheel before she came to a stop before the building. 

Heather walked through the door, putting on a smile at the lady at the front desk. “Hi, Doris.” 

“Oh, Miss Holloway! Hello!” the lady said. “Are you looking for your dad?” 

“There’s quite literally no one else I’d be looking for here, Doris,” she said, holding up the brown bag in her hand. “I brought my dad his lunch, because he’s a grown man who still makes his wife bring his own food to his mouth.” 

Doris swallowed, the smile on her face twitching for a second. “He’s in the meeting room, sweetheart. But he’s already asked his assistant to get him lunch.” 

“Of course he has.” She sighed. “He has an assistant?”

“Oh, I mean the intern girl here, darling.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she gave Doris another smile and walked to the meeting room, her good mood souring even more the second she saw the group of men in the meeting room. 

She pushed the door in, and her dad’s head jerked up in surprise. “Heather! What are you doing here?” 

“Brought you lunch, Dad,” she said, stepping into the room and scrunching up her nose at the smell of cigarettes. “Mom has something else to do.” 

“Such a sweet daughter you are, Heather,” the man sitting next to her dad said. 

“Thanks, honey, but I’ve already asked someone to get the food for all of us.” 

“Well, I already drove here to give you your lunch, so you’re eating it, Dad,” she said, dropping the bag to the table and standing next to him. “Mom cooked all of that, and you’re going to absolutely neglect the effort she did for you?” 

Her dad pressed his lips together, and Heather smiled, patting his shoulder. “I think she made your favorite, Dad.” 

“That may be better than hamburgers.”

“Of course it is,” she said.

“You’re growing to be a beautiful woman, Heather,” Phil said, taking a drag of his cigarette, his eyes roaming over her body blatantly even with her dad’s presence here.

“Thanks. How’s that receding hairline of yours? Is it still growing, or are you going to be bald soon?”

Phil’s smile dropped, and her dad clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Heather, don’t disrespect them.”

“Tell your employees to stop staring at my ass then. I’m not even eighteen yet, I can get them arrested, you know,” she said, and all their eyes darted away from her body, which was a relief.

“Oh, here’s Nancy Drew with the food,” another man said, a hand resting on his stomach. His name was Robert, maybe. She could never be bothered to remember the names of these men. 

Her eyes flitted up to the person walking in through the door, and she wouldn’t say she wasn’t surprised to see Nancy Wheeler entering the room. She didn’t know Wheeler was working here, but again, they weren’t friends. 

Heather didn’t have the fondest of feelings towards any member of the Wheeler family, but that might have been spurred up just because of Karen Wheeler. And, well, that was enough of a reason already. 

Nancy seemed surprised to see her too, halting in her steps for a mere second before she resumed handing out the packed hamburgers from the brown bag she held against her chest.

“Where were we?” her dad said, tapping the pen in his hand against the table. “Yeah, we still need something good. We’ve been slacking these days.”

“How about a piece on Iran?” a man on the other end of the table said.

“I want something local.”

“I hear there's a beauty pageant at the fair this year,” Bruce said. 

He was the worst one here, and everyone knew it. Even Nancy, as she shot the man a look before she walked past Heather with hurried steps.

“Excuse me,” she whispered softly, and Heather stepped aside, letting her go around the table and giving the men their food like she was feeding a bunch of pigs in the hogpen. 

“Yeah, I'm looking for above the fold here, Bruce.”

“Then clearly you haven’t seen Lucy Lebrock, because I’m not sure she’ll fit above the fold!” The man held his hands over his chest, barking out a loud and unrefined laugh as Heather’s lips twitched.

How annoying it would be if she had agreed to work for her dad in the summer. She would have quit on the first day.

“Fellas! In six hours, we go to print. I need something real,” her dad said, rubbing a hand over his temple.

“Oh, I think they’re real.”

The men laughed, because, of course, that was the kind of thing they would laugh at. Heather sighed, clutching her car keys in her hand and patting her dad’s shoulder. She had to leave before she decided to say more things that would ‘embarrass’ her dad in front of his colleagues.

“What about Starcourt?” Wheeler began, stopping abruptly in front of the door, blocking Heather’s path.

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, including Heather, and Wheeler's throat bobbed, her eyes darting around as the anxious look painted her face.

“I—I was just…thinking,” she continued, shaking her head. “I mean, I know everyone loves the mall, but how many small businesses have closed since it opened?”

Her voice turned firmer as she went on. Heather could see that Wheeler wanted to be a journalist from the passion that filled her every word. And at least she could come up with a better article to talk about than any of these men here.

“Like, five on Main, at least. It's changing the fabric of our town in a way—” 

“The Death of Small-Town America,” Bruce said, and Wheeler nodded eagerly, seeking validation, seemingly the only validation she had gotten since she worked here. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

“But I think I've got something even spicier,” he continued. “It’s about the missing mustard on my hamburger.” 

Heather rolled her eyes, watching as a hint of dejection flashed across Wheeler’s face while the rest of the men burst into laughter like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

“You think you can follow the clues and solve the case of the missing condiment, Nancy Drew?” Bruce said, and Wheeler nodded, coming forward to take the hamburger back from his hand.

“Sorry.”

“Look out, Phil, she might be after your job!”

Wheeler turned around, grabbing the door handle and yanking it open, and Heather heaved a sigh, shaking her head.

“Can’t you just eat it without the mustard?” Heather decided to speak up, hearing the laughter die out in the room as she folded her arms over her chest. “What’s gonna happen if you don’t eat mustard? Will you die?” 

“I just don’t like my food without mustard,” Bruce replied, while she felt Wheeler’s stare from the corner of her eyes.

“Shame, I was hoping for the latter to be true.” She gave him a smile, turning to Wheeler with her hand stretched out. “Give me that.” 

Wheeler looked at her, eyes wide with confusion, before she put the hamburger in her hand. Heather tossed it in the middle of the table, wiping her hands together.

“You either eat it, or starve.”

“Heather,” her dad said. “Watch your language.” 

“Are you gonna sit there and let these imbeciles insult her? Would you have wanted them to say the same things to me, Dad?” she said, looking back at the men. “She’s an employee here, she’s not your assistant or your unfortunate wife. If you want one, get one, and get them to fetch your food instead.” 

“That’s her job,” Bruce said.

“Her job is to work on articles, like the one she just talked about, which, by the way, is much better than what you just proposed,” she retorted. “So, eat your burger with no mustard, or don’t eat at all. You could lose a few pounds, you know, before your wife realizes how much of a halfwit man you are. The only thing you’re good for is money, and you don’t even make that much.” 

Heather inhaled softly as she finished, flashing them a smile one last time, and it was her dad who spoke up first.

“You can have mine. It got mustard. I’ll have the lunch my wife made me.”

“God, you men and your goddamn mustard. It’s such a big problem!” she exclaimed with a deadpan look. “People are losing jobs out there!” 

She gave her dad a final look and pulled the door open. “I’m leaving, Dad,” she said without looking back, and she stepped out of the meeting room.

The last time she was here was Take Your Child to Work Day, which was four years ago, and she left with the same amount of annoyance as she did back then. It was insufferable to stay in a closed space with those men without losing her mind.

She waved at the ladies outside, getting into her car as fast as she could to drive to Billy's house. He wouldn’t mind that she was early.

“Jesus—” Heather kicked at the brake as Wheeler stopped in front of her car. She rolled down her window, poking her head out. “Do you have a death wish? I mean, I get that working here makes you feel like it, but don’t jump in front of my car.” 

Wheeler marched to the opened window, glancing at the empty street before crouching down to meet her gaze. “Sorry.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

“Oh, uh,” Wheeler began, resting her hands on the window, and Heather looked at her confusedly. “I want to say something.”

“Are you going to say it any time soon? Because I have somewhere to go.” 

“Yeah, I—” She exhaled sharply, her throat working and her shoulder stiff with tension. “Thank you.” 

“Is that all?” Heather said. “That’s what got you looking like you’re about to tell me you have an undying love for me? A thank you?” 

Wheeler’s face fell, and she stammered, “Well, I mean, you helped me in there, so I thought—”

“I didn’t do it for you.” She tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “I did it because those men were irritating me.” 

“Oh.” 

“And I don’t need your thanks, Wheeler,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s useless.”

Wheeler seemed taken aback, her lips parting. She uttered, “Well, still. I still want to say that. Actually, you’re the first person to ever stand up for me, and I—”

“Not for you.”

“Right, yeah, not for me.” She nodded. “It got them to shut up for once, and I felt like I needed to tell you that.” 

“It wasn’t necessary.” 

“But could you just accept it?” 

“Why do I have to accept it? I didn’t stand up to those men for you, Wheeler.” 

“I still want to say thank you—”

“What’s your problem with insisting on making me accept this?”

“What’s your problem with refusing to accept this? It’s just a thank you, Holloway.”

“And I told you it wasn’t necessary. Words are useless. I don’t need your ‘sorry’ or your ‘thank you’,” Heather said. “Now, would you please let me leave? The longer I stay here, the sooner I feel like the stench from those men is going to get to me.”

Wheeler furrowed her eyebrows, and she said, “Words are useless to you.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you accept other than words?” 

“My god, Wheeler, what’s with you and this need to please everybody?” she groaned. “If I just take your words, will you let me go?” 

“No, because I know it’s not genuine.” 

Heather blew an exasperated breath, chewing on the inside of her cheek, before she nodded. “Okay. Scoops Ahoy. Ask Robin for my favorite flavors.” 

“What?”

“Two scoops of chocolate pudding, one scoop of U.S.S butterscotch. Extra cherries on top. I work tomorrow at one. So bring it to the pool half an hour before my shift.”

“You want me to bring ice cream to the pool for you?”

“That’s what you’re insisting on,” Heather said. “Now, can I leave?” 

Wheeler blinked, straightening her back and taking a step back. “Okay, um, I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” 

“Thank you, again,” she said. “And sorry. Again.”

Heather eyed her expression, her gaze roaming over Wheeler’s face, her wide brown eyes, and her rosy lips. She seemed grateful. Genuinely grateful.

She lifted her hand and wiped the smudge of lipstick against the line of Wheeler's lips, startling her. Her pupils dilated, but she didn’t recoil from her touch.

“You have a voice, use it. They’re men, not monsters, though it’s pretty close,” she said, cradling the side of her face. “Speak up, Nancy Drew. You usually have a much smarter mouth than this.”

“You’ve been looking at my mouth?” Wheeler asked, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

She smiled. “Don’t be late, Wheeler,” she said, patting Wheeler’s cheek before she withdrew her hand and drove away into the vacant street.

Wheeler was still standing frozen on the spot when Heather checked her side view mirror, seemingly taking the time to process everything.

The smile was plastered on her face even as she hung out with her friends, and they might have both guessed that she did, in fact, stand up for Nancy Wheeler. So maybe she did, and maybe she thought Wheeler wasn't bad like her mom, not to mention that she was much prettier than Karen, but Wheeler didn't have to know all that.

[cravingforsweetsbooksandpurpose]

wip for my hanahaki au ; zosan / lawsan

Where 2 years had changed so much and Sanji wanted something more than just fooling around but Zoro wanted to cut it off and focus on his training and dreams.

After reuniting Sabaody, Sanji contracts hanahaki disease. The only person who knew and who helped him cure the disease was Law. The situation had helped them get to know each other.

Sadly for Zoro he only realized who Sanji was to him during the incident in Zou. Even then it was already too late...

-------

He's not petty. Definitely not. Petty is for small-minded insecure people. And Roronoa Zoro is not that kind of person. And even if he was that kind of person, he still wouldn't be petty for this kind of reason, because that would only mean he cares and it gets under his skin. Surely, it doesn't.

Sanji could feed whoever the hell he wants to. But still. Onigiri was his thing. Right?

Rice and a good sea king meat mixed together. Even one of his moves is called onigiri. So why...

Zoro just kept his mouth shut and looked away. Downing booze to drown his thoughts and whatever he was feeling away. It was helping. It really did. The light buzz of the alcohol had able him to relax and enjoy the banquet. Even making him tolerate Hiyori more than he thought he could.

Mantra of words, trying so hard to keep his mind focus. "It's nothing. It doesn't matter. Everything is just fine" He is a master of his own thoughts. Discipline and meditation was one of the things he's very good at. Nothing could distract him. Well,

That was until... Until...

He suddenly wish that the grim reaper had taken him after fighting King that day.

In front of everyone, He saw how Sanji cough to try and get everyone's attention as he slowly reached out for Law's hand caressing them lovingly as he made them intertwined. Law's face flushed. His free hand covering his mouth lazely, his face leaning on his left side looking away as if hiding his face, evidently embarrassed. Sanji brought their intertwined hands together to his face for a kiss.

Everyone looked over curiously.

While Zoro tried everything in his power to remain stoic. But does he really need to? When the moment he saw everything he felt his heart freeze. He couldn't do or say anything. He felt his throat constricting. He felt so insignificant before Sanji. Like how he and everyone didn't exist and it was only him and Law in this world.

Sanji chuckled for a bit as he looked embarrassed Law softly. And then looked over at everyone with a big grin on his face.

He said,

"Traffy and I started dating."

Loud happy sounds of cheering and clapping roared on the banquet room. Everyone was so happy. Happy for them. Happy for him.

Sanji smiled so brightly. Zoro had never seen that smile before... he had never seen him looked so happy before.

Zoro's stomach churned. It felt like something was stuck on him throat and he wanted to throw up.

But he didn't. He didn't want to ruin this for the cook. Especially after the fuck up shit his family did to him in Whole Cake Island.

So instead he brought his sake cup on his mouth gulping everything in one go. Hoping the cup would hide his face.

He feigned happiness. He wanted to be happy for him too but he'd be lying because he can't. He can't when it was because of another person who was making him this happy.

Thankfully, no one else thought he was acting indifferently. He never was big on showing emotions anyway.

He only held his cup up as a sign of salute. And smile a little. Even if it felt force.

Because it was. He wanted to go. Away from here.

[distant-velleity]

Easy Surrender

Summary: Yu faints. Jamil takes care of the problem. Word count: ~900 A/N: This was supposed to be wholesome. Guess what it ended up being? Not entirely that, but hey, it's better than outright angst. Only so much you can do about writing Jamil during Book 4, I guess, and only so far you can go with a pre-friendship/pre-relationship fic set during that time. Oh, well~ Enjoy! <3

~

[ You’ve scared SANTIAGO out of his wits. +10 concern points, +1 fear point. ]

[ You’ve startled JAMIL considerably. +5 concern points, +1 regret point. Character’s satisfaction has increased, reasons unavailable. ]

[ CURRENT DEBUFFS: Dehydrated — USER may experience lightheadedness and other adverse symptoms until he has taken in enough liquid and rested sufficiently. ]

…

Consciousness and coherence return to Yu at the speed of a tortoise—which is to say, not very quickly. When his eyes flutter open and his parched throat tries to take in air through his mouth, he finds himself underneath an extravagant ceiling. Beneath him is the wonderfully soft mattress he’s enjoyed since he got here, just barely firm enough to support his back.

How did he end up here; is the question that comes to mind. Last he remembers, he was being accompanied to his room by Santiago and—

“You’re finally awake.”

—Jamil, who is standing by his bedside and watching over him with his arms crossed, like some kind of well-meaning guardian-aide. 

“Ja…mil?” Yu asks, although it comes out as something more of a weak rasp. He could really go for some water right about now. “What happened—?”

The vice housewarden sighs, which is just as sympathy-inducing as it elicits shame. “You fainted about a minute ago; from dehydration, I’d reckon. Santiago’s getting you some water bottles as we speak.”

Oh, right—

(Following behind an eager Santiago and an exasperated Jamil, Yu was about to step into his room before feeling a sudden spell of dizziness. Instead of stepping carefully, he staggered forward, and then all of a sudden he saw the floor coming up to meet his face—)

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Yu feels himself almost wilt with humiliation under Jamil’s sharp gaze. Regardless of any concern that might be found in those onyx-like eyes. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, observing the well-made sheets under him to avoid eye contact. “I shouldn’t have gotten distracted at the oasis—I’ll be more careful next time and hydrate…”

At the same time, he thinks despairingly, With my luck, this’ll somehow screw me over later in the Main Mission.

“It can’t be helped now,” Jamil says neutrally, clothes rustling and hair ornaments chiming as he kneels. “You’re technically a guest, not a Scarabia student. If I can catch Kalim in a good mood, I’ll tell him to keep you out of the training. Worst comes to worst, I’ll have you ride up with him if there’s another march.”

“What?” Yu sits up so fast his head starts to pound, and he’s left reeling for a moment, unsure if he’s swaying or not. Judging by the alarmed little ‘hey!’ he hears and the hand Jamil puts on his back to support him, he probably is. “But everyone else… That… It won’t be necessary…”

There’s a note of exasperation to Jamil’s voice as he dryly remarks, “Please don’t be reckless. You are my responsibility as long as you’re here, so I need to be mindful of your wellbeing.”

Yu hesitates, still not daring to meet Jamil’s eyes. “Right. But it still feels unfair to everyone else…”

“Yu.”

The firm tone has Yu tensing up and, out of instinct-based compulsion, glancing back over at Jamil to make sure the expression on his face isn’t anger. It isn’t, and yet… 

One accidental flick upwards of Yu’s gaze, and sharp dark-brown eyes lock onto golden ones for a moment—but a moment is enough for him to experience an odd sinking feeling, like he’s falling without any ledges to grab onto and stop his descent. Or is that just the lightheadedness he feels from having fainted?

“Just rest for now,” Jamil insists in a deliberate tone. “You’re obviously not cut out for the physical exertion Kalim is putting us through, so don’t push yourself. Especially after your fainting spell.”

And just like that, much of Yu’s willpower to fight, to resist, to be contrary—it crumbles away like sand dunes in the wind. 

“Okay,” he replies, nodding curtly to punctuate his words.

Jamil hums almost approvingly, and with a faint hint of relief. “Glad to see you can listen to reason. Now, where is Santiago—”

As if on cue, there’s a sound not unlike a feather-filled pillow bursting that comes from beyond the closed door—followed immediately by someone cursing under their breath. Jamil mutters, “Speak of the devil,” just as the door opens and Santiago—clutching several water bottles to his chest—stumbles in.

“Sorry it took so long,” the beastman pants, looking less like his usual smug self and more like the frantically genuine teen he should be allowed to be. “I really was trying to go as fast as I could, but—”

“It’s fine, I don’t need excuses,” Jamil says, tiredly, and takes a bottle while turning to Yu. “Here. You’d better start replenishing the fluids in your body.”

“And quickly!” adds Santiago.

Yu smiles a little, quickly forgetting about that weird weightlessness he’d felt earlier (it felt so familiar, like he was losing control of his body, but when had he experienced it before, again…?) as he takes the water bottle and takes a long drink. “...Thanks, you guys,” he says sincerely, catching his breath after finishing.

The way Santiago almost preens with pride is enough to overshadow how Jamil says, “It’s no problem… no problem at all.”

…

If Yu just looked and listened a little more closely, he would have noticed the ominously self-satisfied glint to Jamil’s eyes.