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licorice-tea · 8 hours
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why do i have 3 ppl crushing on me rn and different situations with all of them… it’s so hard being pretty😓😓
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licorice-tea · 1 day
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TYSM FOR THE TAG! i haven’t done a picrew in so long so this was fun! (srry it took me a while)
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@sillylittlestoryblog no pressure but if you want to make one, and anyone else!
Cute animals and clowns, let's gooooo
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no pressure tags @rorywritesjunk @be-not-afraid-gg @lostfirefly @sordidmusings
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licorice-tea · 1 day
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Seaside Rendezvous
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader
Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited
Word Count: 0.6k
A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!
It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.
He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?
Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.
But Sanji makes that impossible, too.
“What’s on your mind?”
Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”
He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Don’t be, dearest.”
You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”
“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”
“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”
“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”
You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”
Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.
“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”
“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“
“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”
Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”
He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.
“Would you be mine?”
“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”
“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”
“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.
He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.
For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.
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licorice-tea · 18 days
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law + morning coffee
masterlist || commissions
tagging: @willowbelle @queenmimi2817 @risenwrites @eelnoise @cloudzoro @kaizokuniichan @mirillua @atanukileaf @sanjisprincesswifey
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though the murky, dense darkness of the early morning still hangs in the air, almost to the point of suffocation, law finds himself reluctantly tearing himself out of bed. he's exhausted, worn out, and lets out a deep sigh as he throws his sweatshirt on and wraps a blanket around his shoulders, sleepily shuffling into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. he passes clione and uni on the way, headed back to their beds after working through the night; the pair wave to their captain, but he's borderline unresponsive as he hunches over the kitchen counter, sipping at the steaming dark liquid in his mug, immune to the burns its leaving on his tongue.
he's waiting—impatiently tapping his foot as he strains his ears listening for the slightest hint of a whistle from the tea kettle. the second it starts to squeal, he pours the hot water into an insulated cup, tosses a tea bag and some honey in, and trudges back towards his bed. law sets the cup on the nightstand, and huffs with exhaustion as he crawls back under the covers and pulls you close, his weary bones screaming out for the comfort of your warmth; the caffeine coursing through his veins won't take effect for another half hour or so, and he plans to take full advantage of every extra second of sleep he can get.
his movements wake you, causing you to stir slightly against him, but you're far too tired to do anything except readjust yourself and fall back into a deep slumber, slender fingers interlaced with his. when the two of you wake up for real, tied into a tangled mess of limbs, law will be considerably more well-rested and agreeable, and your tea will still be piping hot on the nightstand.
one morning, you ask law why he goes to so much trouble each morning to ease your morning routine; he simply gives you a crooked half-smile and replies that he did it on a whim. in return, you give him an appreciative grin back as you sip on your tea, with the knowledge that you've truly wormed yourself into his heart, even if he expresses it in the most roundabout and indirect of ways.
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licorice-tea · 19 days
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the crew ever <3
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And the adventure begins... ⚓
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licorice-tea · 21 days
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just watched one piece film: red and i LOVED it
now back to the pain of sabaody😓
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licorice-tea · 22 days
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Don’t forget we invade the Fire Nation today
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licorice-tea · 22 days
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LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS (1986) | dir. Frank Oz
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licorice-tea · 22 days
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what do you want to see next?
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licorice-tea · 28 days
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You’re An Angel When You Sleep
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3
Edited 2/28/24
Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.
People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.
And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.
How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.
It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.
He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.
But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”
He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.
“How foolish.”
Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.
All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.
Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”
And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.
His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.
-
“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”
This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.
“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”
Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.
“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.
And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”
You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.
“Then I swam over here-“
“Which is where?”
You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”
“While I was dying.”
“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”
“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”
“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“
“Thank you, y/n.”
You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”
You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”
“Mhm.”
“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”
He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.
“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.
You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“
“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.
“Ok… What is it?”
Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.
The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.
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licorice-tea · 28 days
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Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet)
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: strawhat!reader, gender neutral reader, feelings and fluff (my faves🤞🏽), so much tension, no resolution of that tension… yet😏, lowkey “i hate everyone but you” trope, very brief mention of some canon typical violence, but no actual violence <3
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: lalalalala i love law😇 i actually wrote about twice as much as what’s here to begin with, but i felt like it was too long for one post, so i might upload it as a second part later if anyone wants that! as always ty for the love, and i hope you enjoy! (did i write this instead of finishing part 3 of my Zoro mini series? perchance. (that will be up soon though!))
Part 2
It’s a day like any other on board the Thousand Sunny- calm waters, music, occasional shouting, and just one abnormality. Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, is a guest on board the Strawhat Crew’s ship in the aftermath of Dressrosa. And despite their hospitality, he finds practically everything about life on board their ship to be draining…
Every potentially quiet moment is interrupted by the crew’s shenanigans.
For starters: the cook and swordsman argue over every little thing, and most of their arguments escalate into fights. The navigator is actually a petty thief or a con-artist at best, and her double, the sniper, takes it upon himself to cause dangerous explosions at least once a day. The musician is an incredibly loud pervert, though the shipwright is somehow even louder and more dramatic. The archeologist is alright- she’s quiet, but Law finds her constant observation more eery than comforting. And the captain is still somehow convinced that his doctor could be used as a source of “emergency food.” Then there’s you; the one who brings whatever you’re working on at the time up to the deck so you can work in the sunlight, wears your weapons like they’re accessories, who only takes breaks from working to visit with your nakama, and always offers a charming smile when you catch Law staring… which happens multiple times in the course of the day.
Law is often irritated, rigid, and cold- so different from your own optimistic and nonchalant demeanor. At breakfast, he doesn’t talk much. Just eats his meal and thanks Sanji before excusing himself to go pour over anatomy books from the ship’s library. He does so for hours, not once joining the Strawhat Crew on deck or even taking time to explore the ship on his own. Nami frequents the library, as well, but she’s taken to drawing maps in her room or on deck since their guests arrival. When night begins to settle overhead, he may return to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, before going right back to his work.
At first, one might have been inclined to think Law didn’t like y/n at all. They can often see his gaze trained on them form from the corner of their eye, but chooses to ignore it sometimes and address it with a smile others. He almost never speaks to them if possible, only offering a nod or a mumbled response to whatever they says. But, he goes out of his way to sit by them at mealtimes and to find himself in the same narrow hallways as them, so that their arms brush. Those are the moments he obsesses over in his mind while he dozes off from his textbooks- the feel of their skin against his, and their kind acknowledgements- always void of harsh judgment.
It’s not just the lack of cruelty in essentially eveything they do, to Law; it’s the presence of love. Love for their nakama, their work, people and places they barely know, even him. He doesn’t recall ever having met someone so full of love that goes beyond superficial kindness- because they can be sarcastic and moody at times- besides perhaps Corazon.
And to y/n, there’s just something about Law that peaks their interests. Maybe it’s the feeling of having someone new around, or something even more indescribable and foreign to the pirate.
Zoro is asleep in the men’s cabin tonight, so y/n is keeping watch. It’s the usual arrangement for the 2 night owls of the crew- when Zoro has truly exhausted his body, he sleeps below deck with the others, and y/n has no trouble staying up through the night.
They turn on some quiet music on their speaker, a must have for any music lover. For a while, they just watch the sea and sky. Nights at sea are like a blackout. But, there is no need for light with strong eyesight and the even stronger moon and starlight.
So it’s no surprise that they see, just out of the corner of their peripheral vision, the top of a white and black speckled hat bobbing up and down as it moves toward the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widen ever so slightly and their breath catches in their throat. The guest makes them feel silly, in a way, for not being able to discern their own feelings toward him, nor his toward them. They get so caught up in their thoughts about him that eventually they give up. Y/n shakes their head, mentally chastising themself for even being embarrassed or flustered in the first place. And with that confidence boost, they decide to go talk to him.
Next thing they know, y/n is standing before the kitchen door with no plan in mind for what they’re going to say to their crew’s ally. They open the door, but he doesn’t look up from the coffee brewing on the stove.
Y/n clears their throat to announce their presence, and Law whips his head around to see who it is. They offer a friendly smile and a little wave.
“Hi.” They speak softly, as if afraid to break the peace of the night.
A beat passes with no response from Law. Internally, he wishes they hadn’t walked in on him at this moment. The light from the overhead lamp catches in their eyes, and he feels entirely too seen. Not in the way he feels seen by someone like Robin, though, whose constant observation makes him feel uncomfortable; like one wrong move and he’ll have hell to pay for. No; y/n sees him and he’s scared that he might start spewing nonsense to avoid revealing his feelings. And suddenly his cheeks are on fire, and everything is quiet, and all he can focus on is the stars in their eyes that he tries so desperately to look away from.
They tilt their head, likely in concern, and he pulls himself out of his thoughts to mumble, “Hey.”
“Cant sleep?” y/n questions, their starry eyes (as described by Law) flickering over the coffee pot on the counter and back to him.
Law shrugs, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes to hopefully hide his warm face. “I wasn’t trying to sleep.”
“Hm…” they hum in response, “Want to keep watch with me then? If you aren’t busy.”
He thinks they’re just being friendly, like always. When they first met, Law was confused. It made no sense for someone so mild mannered to have a bounty of well over 500 million (now almost double that amount in the time that’s passed), though he didn’t doubt that looks could be deceiving. But even in the midst of battle, of which the two had been in several together, they refused to take kill shots or anything of the sort. So he was still unsure of how they had earned such an impressive reward for their capture. Still, they clearly had a high regard for life, and he had come to learn that they truly were just that kind hearted, not to mention witty and generous. And judging by the “Sora: Warrior of The Sea” sticker he’d noticed on small a journal they carried, which was one amongst many; a bit of a nerd, too. All of these things and more had made Law secretly impartial to them. Or at least, those were the reasons he has listed in his mind to make sense of these feelings.
So he nodded, much to their surprise, and mumbled again “Sure.”
The curve of their smile opens up into a grin, and y/n leaves while fully expecting Law to follow (whenever his coffee was ready.) Which, he does.
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licorice-tea · 28 days
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parts 1, 2, and 3 are all out!!!
The Bane of My Existence
Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)
Part 2
Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.
In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.
The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.
Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”
Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”
Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”
Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.
“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“
“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.
Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.
With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.
Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.
“Why would I be following some rand-“
“Because you have a crush on them!”
“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”
“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“
They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”
The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”
Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”
You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)
“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”
The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.
“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“
“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”
“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”
You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”
“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”
“But Captain, we want to go with you!”
One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.
“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”
Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”
There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.
Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”
“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”
“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”
“Right.” He laughs dryly.
“What is it?”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I- I’m not lying!”
“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”
“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”
“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.
“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.
“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”
“Fine- then I’ll leave.”
His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”
You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”
You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.
“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”
“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”
Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.
You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)
Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.
The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.
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licorice-tea · 28 days
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the urge to write never leaves… it goes dormant from time to time, but it’s always there in the back of your mind.
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licorice-tea · 29 days
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1920s Baroque Works 🥂
Always wanted to do a movie poster redraw of the Great Gatsby so here they are!!
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licorice-tea · 29 days
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usopp day 04.01.24.
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licorice-tea · 1 month
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hey yall! so i got some bad news today and even though i kind of knew it was coming, im taking a little mini break :) i’ll be back to posting in a few weeks (probably less)
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licorice-tea · 1 month
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Lord Choso Kamo.
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Synopsis: bridgerton au- 22 yrs old nd have yet to marry, only to be set up in an arranged marriage to Choso ^-^
Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor readers appearance, Choso is 26, enemies (on one side) to lovers, reader is sharp tongued and stubborn, plotttttt booooo, just a niche fic I couldnt stop thinking about ^-^, catered for a very specific audience, if you get it- YOU GET IT.
Presented to society at seven and ten. One of the many young potential brides. 
You had asked your mother to allow you to wait a few years- focus on your studies instead of marrying you off. As lacking in presence as your father was, even he said, ‘Absolutely not.’
The first year had a handful of potential husbands. But none of them could nack your witty remarks towards them. Causing your second year to have an even less amount of suitors.
The second year, you were already deemed a spinster by your parents. Attending balls and only sitting on the sidelines in the very same gowns you've worn before- only ever seeing it as a meaningless affair. Only present to watch the other young ladies receive marriage offers before you did. 
By the time you were two and twenty, your mother and father saw you and saw a sort of disappointment. An only child- raised and trained for marriage- and refusing to let go of the silly notion of going through life unmarried. 
They blamed you- but in reality it was a mix of their inability to keep up with the fashions of the seasons. Having to re-wear dresses didn’t help you in the situation either. That and the lack of an eye-catching dowry. Seemed as though no man wanted to marry a woman with a mere four figure dowry, no matter how beautiful. 
One afternoon, as you read a book in the drawing room, you sat on the couch lazily, wearing a day dress that you deemed obsolete—dressing up for no one but the servants and your mother. 
And your mama spouting- “I do not know why you insist on filling your mind with nonsense.” Pacing back and forth a few feet from you. 
Causing you to lower your book and look at her with pursed lips. “It is not nonsense, mama,” you snipped, lining up your eyes with the words again. “It is Shakespeare.” you muttered, a small smile curling on your lips at the look on your mother’s face. 
She was about to start speaking again- only your father walked into the room with an unaccustomed smile on his lips. Almost exasperated, “And what is it you have to smile about, my lord?” your mother scoffed, sitting on the couch across from you with a sigh. 
“I have found a proper suitor for your daughter,” he said, causing your shoulders to tense and your book to lower in disbelief. 
“I am your daughter as well- father.” you scoffed. Lightly pinching the bridge of your nose and sitting up. 
The gleam that shone on your mother’s eyes was one you hoped you’d never see. “Who?” she asked, breathless and eager to see who would finally take you from their hands. 
Your father flashed his eyes to you, almost worried for the words that dared spill from his lips- “The lord Kamo.” 
You closed your eyes with a soft sigh. You had been appropriately raised to not talk back to your father, but the vein that pulsed in your mind when he said that name almost made you snap at him. 
Lord Choso Kamo. 
To others, just another lord without a bright and shiny title. Firstborn son and heir of the Kamo name, his mother gave birth to 8 more boys- all one year apart. And on the eighth, his mother died. 
His father remarried within the year, speculated with a woman he had an affair with when his mother was still alive. Giving Choso one last little brother. 
And to you, three years your senior. Choso was a playful child growing up. Chasing you around- stepping on your shoes and stealing your ribbons at the various balls you would attend with your mother. 
But somewhere around the time his father died, he became more serious. Now head of the Kamo family at a mere five and ten, he grew taller and more serious-faced. And no longer picked fun at you, nor chased you around. If anything, he ignored you. 
Even as a child, you had developed a special kind of disdain towards him. Seeing him as an ill-raised boy, blamed for his misdeeds by your mother. “But mama- he is the one who chases me!” you would defend when she would pull you away by the arm. 
And in your teen years- you would avoid him like a plague. Holding your head high as your eyes looked over at him- his eyebrows, thick and furrowed with severe eyes scanning the ballroom. 
You disliked Choso not only for his actions as a child but also because he had a dismissive aura when it came to these balls—and when it came to you now, apparently. Far too mature and busy to even hold a conversation with you now. 
Only once when you were four and ten did you approach him. Standing much taller than you at seven and ten, hands behind his back with a stern look in his eye.
Choso stood near the far wall of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the lively room for his little brothers. To make sure they did not stain his legacy even further than his father had. 
“I think you owe me a dance, my lord,” you spoke, standing beside him but not bothering to look over at him, dressed in a dark plum suit, a color he had taken a liking to at his coming of age.
His face churned in confusion, “Owe you a dance? Whatever for.” he spoke- improper and uncaring of this supposed debt you imposed onto him. 
“For stealing my ribbons and stepping on my shoes.” tilting your head slightly, so sure you were correct. 
He only scoffed, walking away from you and collecting his rowling brother. 
Choso’s coldness against you was upsetting. Not because you wanted his friendship but because of how improper and indifferent he was when it came to you. Not even bidding a goodbye before walking off.
In the third year you were on the market, you stood beside him once more—you, freshly twenty, and he, three and twenty. Thinking if no other man would have you, who was the Lord to deny you?
It was not as though he was the worst man of the bunch. A decent name, a decent fortune- and a better-looking face than most suitors. His only flaw was how standoffish he could be and how improper he was with you.
Yet still. You gave the man one last chance.
“You still owe me a dance, my Lord,” you spoke, watching the people dance at the center of the room. Choso looked over to you, quickly scanning the light pink gown you wore that evening, surely to attract a suitor.
Your gaze caught the bags below his eyes, a side effect of the late nights spent in his study with only candlelight illuminating the mess of books his late father left him. And his long hair tied back, giving you an unobstructed view of his strong jaw.
“Should you not be looking for a husband?” he spewed, looking back at the dancing crowd and lightly widening his eyes. Unable to see the youngest sibling he was watching. 
You let out an unamused laugh, “That is what I am doing, is it not?” looking over at him with a pleased expression. 
“No, you are talking to me-” he murmured. Walking off and trying to find the pink-haired sibling with a penchant for wandering off. 
After that, you swore never to speak to him again. There was a spark of hatred in your heart when you saw his stupid, serious face at the balls. And when his eyes caught on yours, you would look away, uncaring if people saw. If anything, you wanted people to see your dislike for that brinking-on beastly man. 
So when your father said that he- Lord Choso Kamo was to be your husband, you almost hemorrhaged on the spot. 
You did not speak to your father for three days and two nights. At the dinner table, you stayed silent. Picking at your food and avoidant of any conversation. And your mother held more than enough excitement for you both. Planning the flowers, the gown- all before the Lord even proposed. 
And when your father grew tired of your silence- he shouted at you to speak. 
You bowed your head, tears in your eyes—“Please,” you said in a tone of voice you had not used since you were a girl. Peering your eyes up at him, full of salt water and a weary lip. You said, “Please, do not make me marry that man, father.” 
Though your papa was generally uncaring when it came to what you felt. The way you looked at him- he saw a glimmer of his little girl in your eyes. The same little girl that would cling to his leg, scared of the strangers he would present her to. 
Your father took your hands in his- and you were so sure he would call it off. 
“I will allow you a two-week courting period.” He whispered, watching the tears spill from your eyes. “You must marry him,” he spoke your name softly. 
It wasn’t until the following day you heard your father speaking to your mother- the stoic man practically in shambles at the thought of using his only daughter as a form of paying his debts. 
Before the late Lord Kamo passed, your father owed him a substantial amount of money. A debt your father was still unsure how he would pay. And the news of Choso’s father's death washed over your papa as a wave of relief.
So when a six and twenty-year-old Lord Kamo wrote to your father- something along the lines of; ‘I have in my late father’s books that you owed him an undisclosed sum of money. I would like to discuss this face to face-’
Your father thought up a million things—selling off the silverware, the dresses, and letting go of the staff—but it didn’t amount to half as much as he owed. 
So when your father met up with the young Lord Kamo at a gentleman's club, he was far too inebriated. Drinking to fill the uncomfortability he felt with the severity Choso imbued in his words. 
“It is my understanding you have yet to marry?” your father spoke- glass half empty in his hand as he looked at the brown-haired man before him. 
Choso furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the drunk man and squinting. “I have yet to.” 
“Then the matter is settled. You may have—*hic* My daughter,” he said, thralling his arm around Choso’s shoulder with a happy smile. “She is well-read. And you have been friends since youth, have you not?” 
Choso parted his lips to speak—“Phenomenal!” your father said, “We will discuss the technicalities later,” ending the conversation and continuing to another topic. 
In Choso’s mind, he knew the impending task of finding a wife had run at him at full speed. And rather than slotting through the many carefully primped young ladies, Choso found peace in knowing if he should have to marry, let it at least be you who he does. 
The least objectionable option. Finding it revolting how the many mamas would peddle their overly young daughters to grown men. Be it you- three years his junior and knowing you far better than he would know any of them. 
And when your mother advised you that the Lord Kamo had asked to see you- you felt a pool of nerves and unease form in your tummy. Knowing that the two-week period your father had granted you, would begin the minute, he would come see you. 
Your mother mulled over what you were to wear when he would visit. Trying to find the best option- an option that would make your beauty distracting enough to ignore your sharp tongue. 
“Mama, I’ve already told you- he is not interested in marriage” you insisted- your mother ordering you to hold a dress against your body. 
“Hush up.” she insisted, causing you to sigh. 
Tossing a light pink chiffon gown onto your bed- “I have known him since I was a child- mama, he knows what I am like.” sitting onto your bed with a scoff, “A frilly gown I’ve worn before won’t change his opinion on me.” 
Your mother shouted your name- “Your father has said that he already agreed- mouthy and far too mature as you are. Lord Kamo has agreed to marry you.” she insisted. Making your mind reel at the possibility that he only agreed to vex you, knowing him.
As your ladies maid fixed your hair- looking into the mirror and thinking of your foiled plans. Plans that had been entirely derailed simply because the Lord said ‘yes’ to marrying you. 
And as you sat in the drawing room- back slouched and a bored look on your face. Your mother did not hesitate to slap your back when the footman walked in “The Lord Kamo, to see you- my lady.” he directed at you. 
Straightening your back- fixing your face as you watched the man stand at the doorway. Flowers in hand and with his hair pushed behind his ears. Unfurrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes looking at you. 
You rose to your feet, “My lord.” you exasperated, lowering in a half-assed curtsey as he slightly bowed. 
“My lady.” he spoke- almost unsure and far too formal for the relationship you had with him. 
You clenched your jaw looking at him- your mother leaning to your ear, “Be kind, and smile.” she instructed through clenched teeth. Sitting at a tea table a few paces from the couch you were sitting on. 
Choso took a step towards you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he mumbled- yet another thing you disliked about him. He spoke unclear words far too often. 
You plastered a false smile on your lips, reaching for them- “Thank you. My lord.” dropping the smile and holding them out for your ladies’ maid to take them. Thinking of a snide comment, only laughing softly to yourself at- ‘make sure to leave them in the sun till next week.’ you said in your mind. 
“Did I say something funny?” he asked- watching you sit onto the couch and following you. 
You eased your expression. “No, unfortunately you didn’t.” you spit. Hearing a slight cough come from your mother, reminding you to be kind.
Choso parted his lips to speak- “May I ask you why you agreed to marry me?” you interrupted- a hushed tone so your mother would not scold you. Eyebrows stern and determined to know his reasonings. 
The Lord squinted his eyes slightly with a furrowed brow. “I have yet to ask for your hand?” he queried- as though you had the answers that you, yourself, were looking for. 
“My father says you agreed to marry me in two weeks.” deadpan face looking at his confused one. 
The corner of the Lord’s lip curled, “Your father was drunk when he struck that deal.” 
You rolled your eyes and looked off to the side. “So you do not wish to marry me.” you stated rather than asked. So eager to hear the words- ‘I do not want to marry you.’
“I did not say that.” 
You almost groaned in frustration at his words. Only your twitchy eye went unnoticed by the man sitting before you. “Then?” you pressed, pursed lips and squinty eyes awaiting his declaration- or an excuse. 
“I am reaching the age to take a bride.” he started, bordering on a mumble that only frustrated you even more. 
“And why not take on a well-behaved child bride-”
Choso’s expression churned in a flash of disgust. “I did not choose you,” he spoke your name in a whisper. Improper as ever- not even using your family name with a simple ‘miss’ before it. 
You blinked harshly at your name callously spoken as though you were already wed. 
“Your father offered-”
“And you accepted.” 
“Because I have known you since I was a boy.” he defended, “I found marrying you to be simpler than carding through the many eligible young-” you sighed at his droning on. Giving you every excuse besides the one you wanted to hear. 
“You also said 'yes' to this union, did you not?” he asked. You looked off to the side, scoffing at his assumption. 
Intertwining your fingers together and pursing your lips, “This union is everyone’s choice but mine.” you muttered. Looking down to your hands with a frustrated look on your face. 
Choso called your name again- this time in worry. Making the vein in your temple pulse from his improper tendencies. “If you do not want to marry- I will not force you to.” 
“You do not know a thing.” you spouted, causing your mother to look up from the embroidery cloth to see why you were seething in your words. And Choso only smiled at your mother, assuring her it was okay. 
Clearing your throat- standing from the couch and urging him to do the same. “I think it’s time for you to take your leave, my lord.” You spoke- hearing your mother stand. 
“Can’t you stay for tea?” she asked- only for Choso to look at you. Mouthing a soft ‘No,’ instructing him to assure your mother that was not necessary. 
The next time Choso saw you was at a ball. You stood near a wall, a pondering look on your face, an unsipped glass of lemonade in hand, and an empty dance card on your wrist. 
Looking off as though you were physically here- but your mind was elsewhere. 
The Lord came up to you for the first time since he was seven. Calling your name in a mutter and pulling you from your thoughts. 
“Yes, my lord?” you spoke- refusing to turn and look at him. 
He inhaled sharply, “Have you thought more on-”
“It is all I think about these days.” 
Choso tried thinking back on the lessons he was taught as a boy- how to approach a lady and how to ask for a dance. 
He parted his lips to speak- “What is it you want, my lord?” you asked, interrupting his attempts to communicate with your tone bordered on frustration. 
“I owe you a dance, do I not,” speaking your name with the same thoughtlessness as he always held. You sighed, placing your glass on the table beside you. 
Looking over at him with a peaked brow, “Why is it now you want to dance? Not once have you ever shown interest before.” 
He scoffed softly, “I aim to court you- dancing is part of it, is it not?”
You let out an unamused laugh, “If dancing meant courting- you declined that proposition long ago, my lord.” taking a sarcastic tone, holding your head high as he furrowed his eyebrows. 
Unknowing what you were talking about, Choso squinted his eyes. “Why do you speak to me in that tone?” he looked over at you, trying to recall if he had insulted you or even done something to warrant your curt behavior. 
You sighed harshly, bored of this conversation- and irritated that Choso had the guts to ask that. “My mother is summoning me-” Trying to find an escape from this conversation; you chose to lie. 
Turning to face him, pursed lips and your jaw slightly clenched, “Good evening, my lord.” you spat, his eyes widening and scoffing. 
As you turned to walk away, he called your name- loud enough for more than enough people to turn their heads to the source. Seeing you still in Choso's presence, his face troubled as he looked at the back of your head. 
The control you had in not turning around and snapping at the man, was control you weren’t sure you held. You only breathed in a small breath and continued your steps, hearing the Lord step behind you as you walked out of the ballroom. 
Nodding your head 'no' as you stepped onto the terrace- breathing in the crisp evening air and clenching your jaw. Your name was spoken again, in the same uncaring tone he always held when he referred to you. 
“If I have done something to offend you-” You turned around swiftly, angered by the face before you and your eye threatening to twitch. 
“If? If you have done something?” you scoffed, finding it unbelievable that he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Choso turned his head, awaiting your explanation as your gloved hands balled into fists at your side.  
Choso parted his lips to speak, your name falling from his lips carelessly, making you even more upset. “Please, tell me if I have done something wrong.” The urgency in his tone fell on deaf ears. 
“I do not wish to speak of this any longer-” you muttered, “My Lord.” you gritted, a breath leaving his lips at the name. 
“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he lightly grimaced, cringing every time you’ve ever referred to him as that. 
The control you held slipping from the satin covering your fingers. “Because it is polite—something you do not harbor,” you spat, shivering at the crisp breeze brushing against your arms. 
Choso furrowed his eyebrows- even more confused than before at your proclamation. You scoffed- “Do not pretend you are unaware of what I speak of.” your chest puffing and slightly spilling from the top of your gown. 
You abandoned the topic, knowing he would only look at you with the same stupid expression in wait for you to further elaborate. 
Turning away from Choso and placing your hands on the balcony’s edge, sighing softly before a smile crept onto your lips. 
“We have yet to marry, and we are arguing already,” you whispered, looking out into the gardens with a pummeling headache. 
Choso sighed, his face troubled. “I’ve already told you—if this marriage is not of your will, I shall decline your father.” 
You breathed a sharp exhale from your nose at his claim, knowing it was not up to you nor him. It was a duty your own father entrusted to you. 
“It is of my will.” you muttered, hearing his footsteps creep beside you. Looking out to the same view as you. 
“Then why is it you hold such disdain for me?” he whispered, looking to the side of your face in worry. 
Dropping the veil of anger to answer his question in earnest. “Do you remember when we were children? And you would chase me around the Easter gardens?” you asked, taking a softer tone and looking to the very same gardens below you. 
“Or when you would step on my freshly polished shoes- or steal the ribbons of my hair?” Looking back to him with a soft expression- watching his face churn to a pensive one. 
A small smile formed on your lips, “I was able to forgive all of that- but when I was ten and four, you declined my offer for a dance.” your mouth in taught purse, watching his lips part to defend himself. 
“And when I was twenty, I offered again.” the corner of your lip curling in disbelief, “And you declined- again.” 
“This is all because I refused to dance with you?” Choso asked in a half laugh. 
You huffed a smile, “No, not because you declined my offers for dancing, my lord.” clenching your teeth and the seething below your skin burning in your cheeks. “Because after all of that- you somehow managed to foil my plans for the future.” 
Sighing in a straggled breath, “After all of that- you agreed to marry me. And go on as though we have been friends since childhood.” You nodded in disappointment. 
“But we have been-” Choso stated in almost a question. 
“You bullied me in childhood. We are not friends.” You spat in a whisper, turning and taking a step away. Only for his hand to grasp onto your clothed forearm, holding you back with an amused expression. 
“Bullied?” he asked in a surprised tone. “If anyone was a bully- it was you,” speaking your name and looking at your angered expression. 
Choso loosened his grip on your arm, “Do you not recall? When you would pull my ears or push me?” he smiled, remembering the memories he held fondly. 
“Or when I would call you 'my lady'- and you would snap at me? Tell me that was not your name- and that you were no lady?” he scoffed with an earnest smile. You furrowed your eyebrows, barely able to remember the memory he was referring to. 
“If I am so horrible- why did you agree to marry me?” you whispered, the smile on his face only growing in the slightest. 
His cheeks slightly flushed and daring to inch closer to you. “I do not find you horrible,” the tone he took when saying your name made your own cheeks threaten to warm. “I never have.” he smiled. 
Watching your tight expression soften, you parted your lips slightly. Darting your eyes back to the ballroom and seeing a pair of debutants whispering whilst looking through the doors. 
You cleared your throat, taking a step back and exhaling a shaky breath. Choso furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to where you had looked, “A dance, my lady?” he offered his hand out to you. 
You took it with a sigh, what you interpreted as anger filling your cheeks. Allowing him to guide you back to the ballroom. 
A hand on your waist and other holding yours, taking precise steps as your eyes avoided his. Thinking of a way to break the tension without stuttering. “If you insist on marrying me- I ask we speak of agreements beforehand,” you expressed, avoiding the gaze Choso held on you. 
His hand guiding you into a waltz, “Agreements?” he murmured, snapping your eyes back to him and nodding. 
“Yes, agreements. Discuss what shall happen if we marry.” you reiterated, keeping a stern brow and ignoring the wisp of a smug expression on his face. 
Choso lightly smiled, “Very well.” he murmured again, making you nod your head no with heat rising in your cheeks. 
“Bring freesias for my mother- and stop mumbling.” you seethed, watching his smile deepening as he heard your demands. 
-
(a.n) sooo niche and I overindulged I know, but I don't CARE.
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