#we had just made so many plans with her friend

[letsbangts]

thank you || jjk

⤷ summary: your appreciation for the man you married

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 1.4k

⟶ genre: fluff, married couple au, established relationship au

⟶ content: husband!jk, fratboy!jk briefly mentioned, sweetheart kook that could cause cavities

⟶ warnings: none just pure fluff

a/n: so this is inspired by you may want to marry my husband. hope you enjoy! :) as always hope you enjoy & let me know what you think!

masterlist

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I have been married to the most extraordinary man for four years. I am planning on many more (a plan that has been in effect since our first date seven years ago and will continue to be). And for that, I feel I should express my gratitude.

Thank you. 

Honestly, I do not know what I am thankful for, for everything, I guess? For him always being there, for him staying by my side. For loving and treating me exactly how I have always wanted a man to. 

Now, you may wonder who this gentleman is, and I am so happy to tell you, Jeon Jungkook.

He was an easy man to fall in love with. I did it in one day.

Let us take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Seven years ago, a young lady struggling with dealing with college and her part-time job gets dragged out by her best friend (I guess I should be thanking her too) attends a year-end party at a frat house one late evening. About an hour later, she bumps into a boy who spills his drink on himself, though all he can do is say to her with the brightest smile: You okay there, Clumsy?

And when she looks up at his face, she realizes that this is no douche frat boy with beer on his shirt, but an unbelievably attractive high-spirited young man. She shyly replies: Yeah, I'm okay. That is when what was supposed to be quick party banter with a stranger turned into a night of great conversation and a polite walk home. That then turned into sweet exchanges of subtle flirtatious texts and small phone calls that had this young lady thinking: Uh-oh, there is something loveable about this person.

As the couple enjoyed many hangouts during the beginning of summer (by the end of the summer, I knew I wanted to marry him) amidst the ever-growing flirting, they finally acknowledged their immense attraction. Then the hangouts turn into dates when that lovely young man finally asks her out. That is when they would have officially kicked off their step from subtle flirting to very blatant obvious flirting—the beginning of a couple that would only continue their journey together.

So that was the start of us.

I am a bit biased, but I will create a list based on my experience of coexisting with him for about 2,556 days on the reasons I am thankful for him and thus love him. The following list of attributes is in no particular order because everything about him is so important to me.

Starting with the basics: His blindingly contagious smile, his gorgeous body filled with pure joy and positivity (and muscle), his adorable fluffy hair that falls over his forehead to match his striking brown eyes, and his effortlessly breathtaking passionate singing, of course.

He always knows how I am feeling and how to match his mood to whatever one I am in. He can read my face with just a simple glance. I have always appreciated how he adjusts his mood to fit my own. If I am in the dumps and his spirits are up, he brings them down to comfort me; even if he is down in the dumps, he lifts his spirits to keep a smile on my face. And for that:

Thank you.

If I could list just one of the things that made me fall in love with him from day one and still makes my heart flutter to this day, it would be his little acts that are natural for him, which shows how much of a gentleman he is. From always opening doors for me, making sure I walk on the inner side of the sidewalk, giving me his jacket to wear, or carrying me into the bed when I fall asleep on the couch. He may not know how much I appreciate the little things, but those little things always remind me I sincerely have the best man out there. 

Silently suffering with the things I put him through that he may not want to do. Sitting through the cliché chick flicks, trailing behind me in the store as I look at three different tops that he says all look great on me but always end up picking the one he can tell I want more, or even giving up his personal space and all feeling in his right arm because he knows I sleep much better entangled with him.

That brings me to something he may not know that I know about him. He holds in a lot more than he leads on. The song he tells me he is struggling to perfect but tells me it is only a little bit of writer's block. Yet I can see in his eyes that it stresses him much more than he says. Yet he is always quick to change topics with a:

How could you have gotten prettier while I was gone?

Or

So tell me about your day. Did anything interesting happen today?

If I did not know him so well, I could have easily missed these things, but I have come to learn about the kind of person he is. He is the type of person who always puts others before himself. He leads himself to take on the role of making sure others around him are okay. He already knows he does not have to hide his worries from me, but Jungkook still always tries to keep the minor worries to himself because he believes they are things I will excessively stress over on his behalf. (and he is right, I would, what can I say I love the guy)

We have come to know each other so well over the years, huh?

When looking for a dreamy, last-minute adventure, he is my man. He always comes with me on random just-cause trips, be it a road trip to the countryside for a break from the city or a train ride to the sea to walk by the shore.

Thank you.

If it is still unclear, here is the kind of man Jeon Jungkook is: He surprised me on my first day at my new job with flowers because he knew how nervous I was. He is a man who is always up early and goes out to surprise me every Sunday morning by putting a different kind of flower on my nightstand with a love note. A man that comes out from the minimart or gas station and says: Hold out your hand. And, voilà, a plastic ring he got from a gumball machine (had that been his proposal, my answer would have been yes).

I am sure you understand what I am trying to say by now, and he already knows how crazy I am about him. Wait! Did I mention that he is incredibly handsome? I will never get tired of looking at his handsome face.

If I am making him sound like a prince and our relationship sounds like a fairy tale, that is not too far off. I consider his proposal one for the books: Ever since you stumbled into my life, quite literally. I have never been able to picture being without you. Will you marry me, Clumsy?

Jungkook, I was serious about what I told you in our vows:

I always want more time with you, Jungkook. I want more time with the guy who takes me to get ice cream in the winter. I want more time sipping beer in bed with my drinking buddy. Although I desire our time together to be endless, we cannot live forever. But as long as I am alive, as long as I am a person on this planet, I will continue to follow you wherever the road takes us. So let us walk it together, alright?

Your dependability and loyalty are the qualities that show you are the most extraordinary husband, the most extraordinary man, and will be the most remarkable father one day. I know you will lead our future family into a lifetime of happiness because that is where you have been leading mine for seven years. I know you will continue to do so.

I will wrap this up because I can go on and on about how you are the most genuine, non-self-oriented gift I could have received. So, thank you for being you. I hope for the day that I get to tell our children about the kind of man their father is, the man Jeon Jungkook is, and about the love story I am honoured to be a part of.

(P.S. That day I mentioned will be coming in approximately nine months!)

With all my love, Clumsy xo

[zepskies]

Awww yeahhh!! Again, I'm so happy you're reading this little Russell series--thank you again, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)! 🥰💕

I can't wait to dive into the rest of your thoughts on Part 1...

I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝

Aww I'm so glad you love her and Dory's friendship! They've become that "ride or die" best girlfriends, and Dory strikes me as someone mature enough to handle her best friend dating her formerly estranged brother. loll It really does take a lot! Which is why the reader is being so cautious about even going on a date with Russell. 😅

God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍

Right?! That's what kept me watching, honestly. I still have so many questions, and even in this series I mostly go off of what we know so far in the show while exploring a couple of my own headcanons. Like you said, you can go in infinite directions with their family past, and even Russell's background!

I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀

Oh yeah, definitely. Their mom is VERY SUSS as well. 🤔🤔

Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...

LOL you're spidey senses are correct. Charlie's a piece of work. 😬

Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀

Omgg but you killed me with that scaredy Dean gif from season 1. 🤣🤣 Like I said, Charlie's a piece of work, an addict, and unfortunately, lashing out at the one person still holding him down. 💙

I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠 And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍

Ughhhhhh girl SAME. Stick a fork in me with a slab of butter, I'd be DONE.

Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍

Omgg I'm so glad you caught that!! lmao

Oh yeah, that's catchy. I could so see that on a draft label. 😜🍻

I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)

That's definitely not all there is to Russell, so thank you for pointing that out! SO many Deanisms in Russ, but it was pretty clear to me from the get-go (and especially in 2x02) that this guy has an edge, and a lot of experience with the darker shades of the military, despite his bouncy charm lol.

And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍

Oh God yeah, she was mortified. 😂😂 I thought it would be understandable though, given what just happened with Charlie. 🥲💙

Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣

Ha, ikr! Maybe I'll flash back to that convo in a future ESC story. 🤔

Oh he dodges that real well, doesn't he? 😂 He's going to continue hiding that aspect of things with Colter (I have plans for another sequel story in the future), but he will get into the circumstances around his father's death with her later on...

Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao

We love a strong heroine, right? 😘 Plus, as the sister of an Air Force/military guy, I felt like Charlie would've taught her how to defend herself. But oh God yeah, Russell might've let his hand "slip." 😬

I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥

Aahahaa I had hoped that moment where he holds her hand would be a nice little Easter egg for people who read Smoke Eater. 😘❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠

Clearly we have similar taste on this stuff, because girl YES. 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️‍🔥 Melts me every time I see/read it...

Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂 And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞

Bless his heart, he tried to make it sexy loll. And yeeep, not only does she want to tread lightly because he's Dory's brother, but she also isn't typically one for a fling, being an introverted nerdy type lol. Not to say that professors can't get down like that, but this character in particular is more the cautious type. 🤣🤣

I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅

Aww thank you, friend!! I had so much fun writing their date lol. You already know they're gonna see each other again soon 😏 and your instincts are spot on as usual! Charlie's about to get himself into some trouble that he might just need some help getting out of... 😬😬

As always, reading your lovely, thoughtful and hilarious comments put a huge smile on my face! 😉💓💓

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,��� Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

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Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[drdemonprince]

So I met a guy on a dating app. He’s also Autistic and we have a lot in common. Really hit it off and after some conversation he’s like To be honest I’m not looking for a relationship and I have someone else I really like but she’s not wanting a full on relationship either so we’re looking at ENM or maybe Poly but if that’s not your thing I understand. So I’m a bit disappointed but he’s sweet so I’m like ok let’s be friends.

Then it almost immediately gets sexual and we talk a lot about kink and fetish stuff that we seem pretty aligned with. Which is rare. We sexted a bit and it was great.

But today he told me he’s going on a date with someone. It’s actually a chick I also met off the the same app (I’m bi) but that didn’t bother me. What did bother me was that I got this instant reaction like upset that he was going on a date. It triggered something in me.

Not mad at all with him as he’s been super honest. But didn’t anticipate my own reactions.

So now I have to decide if I stop talking to him and let this go or if I try to move past it and enjoy the positive sides of our friendship.

We had tentative plans to meet in a few weeks time (we don’t live super close to each other). As a date but not a date.

Now I’m super confused about what to do. Especially as I really don’t meet many people that I vibe with and share similar “interests” with etc.

Just not entirely sure I’m built for the whole sharing thing…

Respectfully, it sounds like this dude fucking sucks ass at polyamory and doesn't know what the hell he's doing, and you're gonna get hurt.

First of all, he told you that he was poly because he is down bad for someone who doesn't want to be in a relationship with him? And so what, he's using his other dating partners as some kind of emotional or sexual stopgap?

That's objectifying and downgrading his potential future partners, including you, from the very start -- and it's setting you up to always be in the position of offering him temporary succor from the unrequited desires he has for this other person, only to be sidelined when she IS giving him a lot of attention. Sure, it's great he's being honest or whatever -- but the situation he's inviting you into is honestly disrespectful. You were disappointed to learn about this situation from the start. That feeling is an important signal! He's made it clear that he's not actually emotionally available and will NOT be consistent with you, and believes he has no reason to be.

It's also quite telling that after he established the nature of his relationship with this other person, he pivoted to getting very overtly sexual with you. This makes me wonder a lot about the woman he is pining away for, and what the terms of their relationship is according to her. (because if they're agreeing to get ENM or poly together, that's a relationship! Even if she says it's not a relationship).

Did she tell him that she cares about him but that she doesn't want to fuck him? Is she just less available than he'd like her to be, in terms of time and number of dates? What the hell is this arrangement between the two of them, how much of it was her proposal versus his idea, and where the hell do you fit in in all that?

If two people aren't fully sexually compatible and both parties want to explore sex and kink outside of their relationship to one another, that's fine; I'm living in that situation and it works great. But you have to approach prospective sexual partners with equal respect as you would your pre-existing partner (or whatever the hell she is to him, since they say they're not in a relationship?), and be clear about what you are and are not available for. It seems to me he asked you to be some kind of non-monogoamous, not-exactly-romantic-but-intimate "friends" with one another, and then tried to transition you into being a kinky sex partner once you expressed you could work with that.

I don't mean to remove your agency from this or act as if this is all something he is doing "to" you, because you expressed some interest in him and said the sexual connection is there. But... how much of this arrangement or how any of this is going has had anything to do with you or your stated preferences? Are you just going along with the flow because he seems nice and you want to see some possibilities there and for each new curveball he's throwing you, you're having to find some new way to justify it and make sense of it? What about what you want? What about your feelings? Why do you not get to determine what the relationship even is or where it is going, and he does? Because he's not getting what he wants elsewhere? That's not a good reason. That has nothing to do with you.

It makes sense to me, in light of what a mess his handling of this has been, that when you found out he was also pursuing other casual sexual partners that you felt jealous. Perhaps seeing him seeking out other non-committal, kind of formless sexual encounters with other people made you worry that you were being seen and treated by him in the same way, or that you were basically just a cog he was trying to slot into place for the time being. Or maybe you already felt on some level that you weren't given primacy in your relationship -- because this is a relationship of a kind! -- and now you have to worry about a whole other person who he has his own feelings for and agendas about altering how he relates to you.

You're not in the driver's seat in this relationship, hell you're not even really being consulted -- he's just making decisions about the various women in his life that he's trying to have meet needs for him and plugging them in and out of those roles as it suits him. The actual arrangement you all have entered into could be completely fine if all parties actively wanted it and had clarity and control over their own positions -- I'm a non-monogamous but *not* polyamorous person who dates people casually, and so i explicitly seek out others who are looking only for casual sex, that kind of stuff is fine -- but instead, this guy seems to be just making his choices up on the fly based on when he's horny, or lonely, or who is around and easy to get to.

I think you're giving a lot more latitude to him than he deserves, here. I'm not saying you need to dump him if you don't want to, if the sex seems like it could be fun you should go for it -- but on your terms. What do YOU want out of this connection? How do you see it? How much quality time, consistency, and commitment do you need? How comfortable are you with being non-monogamous and what kind of non-monogamy do you actively *want*? Do you see this guy as a friend? A casual partner (but a partner nonetheless)? A fuckbuddy?

There's a significant distance between you two, you two have been talking a lot, you call him a friend, and you call your plans to get together a "date." This is a relationship, whether he likes to admit it or not, and that comes with responsibilities to treat one another well and be honest, and to respect the other person's needs. And he doesn't seem to be showing any sense of responsibility toward the people he is in relationships with, and maybe doesn't even see them as relationships at all? He might seem nice, but the way he is navigating all of this is very selfish and instrumentalizes other people -- and so I think you should listen to that feeling you have of insecurity, because it's signalling that he's put you in a very insecure place.

Tagging in my homie @pastimperfection who always enjoys yelling about people doing poly badly

[onepiecestarry]

A Different Kind of Pirate - Part 8

Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while, I went back to school and tbh nobody told me my second year in college or engineering would be this hard (they definitely did). But I’m making it thru! Only two more weeks T-T. But I checked on this story and saw 1.2k reads and never would’ve thought anyone would read this let alone that many of you (literally gonna cry). And I loved reading your comments. So here I am to update! I am sorry it took so long but I promise to actually finish it this time :) XOXO

Fluff, 1.7k words, lots of plot points glossed over from the manga/anime (sorry!)

Zoro x Reader

Masterlist

Part 8: A Samurai and a Florist

The next day you all convene to discuss the plan going forward. As you sit you watch Zoro making your tea, just how you like it, and coming to sit next to you, handing you your tea and placing his free arm around you. You lean into him quietly sipping on your tea while you wait for the rest of the crew. Once everyone was there Kin’emon started.

“We must go to Zou to reunite with your crew and find my friend! We will stop at Zou and continue to Wano after reuniting with everyone.” He exclaims.

The plans continue with the usual mapping and joking around. You all were not worried about getting to Zou, especially with Sanji there first to check everything out.

---- (Time skip past Zou events)

After the long process of getting to Zou, fighting, not fighting, fighting again, realizing Sanji’s gone, and finding Kin’emon’s friend was over you all realized you needed another plan.

“Alright, guys!” Nami yells at everyone sitting in a circle talking to get their attention. “Let's figure this out.” She says with a worried but determined look. “Okay we need to split up, half of us will go with Law’s crew and kin’emon and co. to Wano, and the other half will take the Sunny to Big Mom to get Sanji back, we just need to figure out who.” She explains.

“I’m going to get Sanji,” Luffy says with an unnaturally serious look on his face.

“Count me in too!” Says Brook, Chopper, Usopp, and some Minx.

“Okay, I’ll go with you guys to navigate the Sunny.

“Count me out, I ain’t savin' that shitty cook’s shitty life,” Zoro says leaning back on a tree. “And y/n is coming with me, the celestial dragons can’t get to her on Wano.” You hum in agreement at his statement.

“Alright then I think Zoro, y/n, Robin, and Frankie should go with Law, and we will all meet back up in Wano,” Nami says.

Everyone agrees and we all begin to pack to leave Zou. You become uneasy as you realize you’ll have to work with Law, nervous he’ll be upset about your last conversation. But you quickly shake it off knowing it can’t be avoided.

You get to Law’s ship with everyone else, Zoro is unusually close to you. You look up at him with a confused look as if asking ‘What’s up?’. He just nods over to Law and you nod in response, understanding he’s keeping him away from you.

Bepo showed you and the rest of the strawhats to an extra room you’d be using to sleep while traveling. As you walk in you see two small twin beds and two hammocks, four places to sleep, and five people.

Robin is already making one of the small beds for herself and Frankie and Usopp are getting comfortable in the hammock, so that leaves Zoro and you to the last twin bed. He didn’t even flinch, already on the bed getting comfortable and falling asleep. You giggle to yourself as you push him over to make room for yourself.

----

The days flew by quickly on your way to Wano, Zoro made sure that Law never came close to you, not that you were worried if he did. On the last day, you finally arrived, finding a cove to hide Law’s ship in and hiking up to a remote area to discuss your next steps.

That’s when Kin’emon revealed the reason you all were there, and how he and his friends had gotten there too. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but of course, Zoro had no reaction. You look at him dumbfounded that he's not the least bit confused or surprised.

“What? We’ve heard crazier.” He says nonchalantly.

“Have we?” You cross your arms in questioning.

“No, not at all.” He says leaning back on a rock. You giggle at his demeanor.

Your attention is taken from Zoro as Kin’emon starts to describe his plan.

“We will have all of you go undercover and spread these flyers to anyone with the crescent tattoo on their ankle. This message they will understand. Frankie, you will go undercover as a craftsman apprentice, and see if you can retrieve the blueprints of Kaido’s mansion from your boss. Robin, you will go undercover as a Geisha, your mission is to get close to the Shogun. Usopp, you will be a salesman and you will spread the flyers in the capitol. Zoro and y/n, you both will go undercover together as a samurai and flower shop owner. y/n I am putting Zoro with you to ensure he will not cause trouble as a foreign swordsman.” You giggle at Kin’emon’s comment.

“Hey! I don’t get into trouble… that often” Zoro whispers the last part. You laugh at his defense.

Kin’emon begins to hand out locations of apartments and houses we may stay at as well as stacks of flyers to hand out. Kin’emon then gives you all the clothes and hairstyles to fit in.

---

As you walk through the busy streets of the flower capital you smell all the delicious food stands nearby, watching people rush from building to building, as well as others on a casual stroll. You notice Zoro is beginning to turn in the wrong direction, so to prevent him from getting lost you grab his hand.

“I am not dealing with your directionless ass right now pretty boy, stay with me for the love of-”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” he says smirking down at you, making it obvious how okay he is with holding your hand.

You both continue to walk around looking for your assigned house, eventually finding it and entering. You look around at the sad wood falling apart, and the floor with torn mats.

“I guess that’ll make do.” You sigh. “Where’s the beds?” You question looking around.

“You mean bed. And probably a futon in the closet.” Zoro says looking through the cabinets in the kitchen.

You laugh at his correction of you and go to look for the futon, eventually finding it and setting it up with fresh sheets.

“Any food in there?” you yell over to Zoro.

“Nah, don’t think so,” Zoro says back.

“Alright, I guess we’ll have to go out and get some then. You sigh.

You make your way past the kitchen heading for the front door, but before you can take another step you are grabbed by your waist and twirled facing the other direction with Zoro leaning down towards your face, with a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going.” He says teasingly.

“To the flower shop to see what I’m dealing with, and to get some food for dinner.” You lightly hit his chest, giggling.

“Hmm, I’ll come with.” He says letting you go.

---

Once you get to your stall, you realize that it's already stocked with most things you’d need thankfully. Suddenly the woman in the stall next to you comes over to speak to you.

“Hello darling, are you both new in town?” She says sweetly looking between you and Zoro.

“Yes, we are, we just got married and decided to move to the capital from our home village,” Zoro says before you could even think of responding. Realizing what he said, your cheeks flush pink at his words.

“Aw how cute, you two make a great couple, I must say. You will make beautiful children one day I’m sure.” The older woman says innocently smiling at the two of you. You nearly choke on air at her words, but Zoro hides you behind him, thanking the woman while ushering her back to her stall.

He comes back to you stuffing your face in your kimono’s sleeves hiding your bright red face. He lets out a hard laugh, grabbing your face and moving it to look at him, only making you blush harder. You lightly slap his arms away and begin to ready your flower stall as he laughs watching you.

You both decide to return home after “borrowing” some food, as Zoro calls it. You immediately begin to prep dinner when you return, making some rice and cutting some vegetables. Zoro announces he’s going to shower, you hum in response.

Suddenly, you turned around and pressed up against the counter with Zoro’s arms on either side of you. You get flustered at his actions trying to look away. Zoro leans down and whispers in your ear, “Want to join me, wife?” He asks in a deep tone. You freeze at his offer, face flushed with pink once again. He laughs at your reaction and backs off retreating to the bathroom. You quickly return to cutting vegetables to take your mind off it.

You finished making dinner as Zoro exited the bathroom. “Hey, dinner ready, go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring you a-” You stammer as you turn to look at a freshly showered Zoro with a towel barely hanging off his hips, leaving not much to the imagination. You stare for a good few seconds before you realize he’s laughing at you.

You set the small table while he changes, making sure to give him a nice large portion. As he sits down he looks at the food you made.

“Wait is this curry?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I figured it would be easy and filling.” You casually say beginning to eat.

“I fucking love curry.” He says inhaling all of his food. You laugh at him, happy to know he likes the food you made.

Once you both finished, he washed the dishes while you showered. After your shower, you sat on the edge of the futon thinking about the day, when Zoro came in and practically tackled you down onto the bed. Both of you laughing as you recovered.

He grabbed onto your waist pulling you closer as you both go to bed. “Goodnight wife.” He whispers before you hear his soft snores filling the room. You melt into his touch at the thought of how much he loves to call you that, eventually allowing yourself to get lost in the comfort of sleep. 

[themagicalmysticalboy]

.

[heartorbit]

WAOT WERE U THE ONE TSUKASA COSPLAYER AT MIKUEXPO GIVING OUT MIKU STICKERS TO THE PJSK FANS

THATS ME!!!!! i didn't mean to just give them to pjsk fans help but i severely underestimated how many i should've made and cut out .. so i just ended up giving them to cosplayers or people who said hi to me .... T_T

THERE'S ALSO THIS SUPER CUTE BRACELET SOMEBODY RAN UP TO ME AND GAVE ME AND I TREASURE IT SO I NEED TO ADD IT TO THE POST AND SHOW IT OFF .. WAH!!!! ITS SO CUTE LOOK!!!!!!

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[kaceyxhuddington]

He didn't know if life's plans were really to have what happened to him and those around him. His past was something that haunted him and made him sad still to this day. He had a lot of guilt from it and he knew he would always be that way. He smiled at her a moment "Maybe..." he said before he had to confess what he did after high school. "It's fine..." he looked at her, taking a step back to give her space; he was ready for that reaction, the one he had seen so much over the years. "I was eighteen and out with my friends we party and drink, we race out cars and have done it for many years" since everyone did learn to drive. "one night it just..." he looked away as he was trying to to show the emotions. "I had my girlfriend at the time and my best friend in the car" he could never forget it. "I crashed... it was very bad" he looked bad at her his eyes went "My girlfriend was hurt bad... par.... paralyzed ... " he looked away for a second, as she was that way for life because of him. " my best friend he..." he hated this even more "He didn't make it" he hated it, hated him being stupid ended a life, and changed another forget. "and like how it always is I got out with some cuts and broken bones..." but was well enough to be sent to prison right away. "I did ten years... and a year on parol back home before I moved here," he said, looking at her. "But I don't drink at all anymore and only drive if I have too" mostly if he had his son or had to go far. @briarrosedahl

Briar Rose didn't enjoy much her time in school, she loved ice skating and her grades were always on TOP because she wanted to impress her parents that never cared about her. No matter what she did, she always feels as if she wouldn't be enough for them. She chuckled when he spoke about the last time he tried ice skating. ❛ It is okay, if life had other plans for you. ❜ She knows not everyone had same life in high school or college or whatever. The Icelander also had other degree but she didn't like to talk about herself, because she hates feeling as if she was trying to 'boost herself'. ❛ Maybe. ❜ She giggles softly. His next words take her off guard. She did not know him that well to talk such deep subject, she supposed, perhaps the connection they felt at the moment as if they had known each other for too long was making easier to open up some topics. ❛ If you don't mind answer me, why did you go to jail? ❜ Her tone was serene, no judgment except mere curiosity. He probably might had his reasons back then.

@kaceyxhuddington

[kuiinncedes]

:c

[hyperfixation-or-death]

A series of headcanons:

Victor Deslandes was a Gifted Child™ in elementary school, and hit burnout in middle school.

Sam Deslandes was a Gifted Child™ in middle school, and hit burnout in high school.

Bilal Belkebirs was canonically highly academically and professionally successful before time traveling back to save his friends. However, in the post-canon timeline, he experiences burnout in university due to feeling somewhat directionless.

Romane Berthauds, in the timeline she and Victor traveled back from, had no friends and decided to focus most of her time and effort into academic success. The Romane from Bilal's timeline also put a lot of effort into schoolwork, but after her mom died, her studying habits became really unhealthy and excessive as she tried to cope with the loss. Post-canon Romane does not experience academic burnout (she has sooo many other problems, though). However, the Romane from Bilal's timeline (who the show unfortunately doesn't acknowledge again) will have a midlife crisis at some point.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

With all the mystery around who Ruby is and who her mom is, I really, really hope it isn't actually the Trickster like others have been saying, because while yes it would be nice to see something from SJA appear in current DW, it also would just feel weird at this point as the Trickster was such a Sarah Jane villain that it just feels wrong to give him to the Doctor as an enemy just because Sarah Jane is gone.

[roronoa-luffy]

one again thinking about how jjk couldve been really good...... alas

[lupismaris]

Recorded tonight's monologue with the line "loneliness and longing both taste like sea water, the problem is it starts in the lungs and by the time you can taste it it's too late you've already drowned." Safe to say lads we are not in fact stellar.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[cerealmonster15]

i want to be bffs with astarion in my playthru :( he seems like he needs a hug and good platonic companionship wahhhh

[i-am-the-myrmidon]

I wish I could let go