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ninzied · 6 months

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his hands are in my hair, his

in which henry’s hand in his hair just does things to him, okay?

He’s not the big spoon all the time.

When they’re pressed for space (the limo in Berlin, for example), he somehow ends up with his head tucked into Henry’s shoulder—blissed out, fuckstruck, arm draped over Henry’s torso, Henry’s fingers in his hair.

Or when Alex falls asleep in other places Henry would call inopportune (listen—the Met Gala ran late and it’s a long train ride back to their brownstone), it’s always to Henry’s body wrapped warmly around his, the soothing feel of Henry’s fingers lightly dragging through his curls, against his scalp down to his nape, and…mmm…Alex can’t help but nod right off.

All right, so, maybe he’s starting to see a pattern form here.

Henry has a thing for his hair. Alex knows it. Alex likes it. (More than likes it—can be very vocal about it in fact—and it’s not not partly because of the way Henry flushes pretty pink when they’re dancing in front of a statue of Venus and Alex makes how much he enjoys it known directly into Henry’s ear.)

Alex is also learning that under the right circumstances, he likes it to the point where his brain short-circuits by shutting off altogether—which, whether it happens while they’re at June and Nora’s or on the couch in their own home, so entirely not his own doing.

Alex can’t help if his boyfriend’s obsessed with touching his hair.

Anyway, case in point: tonight they’re sprawled out on said couch, Alex with a textbook, Henry with David curled up on his other side, the two of them engrossed in their third episode of Bake Off. Alex is so content that he feels warm with it, even halfway to drowsy, even though he still has another chapter or four to get through before bed.

It’s a valiant effort, staying awake, considering Henry’s wound his hand through Alex’s hair yet again, his elbow resting on Alex’s shoulder, and he smells like home when Alex buries his face into his chest, just breathing him in, breathing in this, and—wait. Wait a minute.

Alex leans back, though not far enough to pull Henry’s hand away from his hair. Not that, never that. “How dare you try to lull me to sleep with your hand in my hair right in the middle of biscuit week?” he demands, suitably indignant for someone who’s just yawned so loudly that even David looked reproachful.

Henry levels him with a bemused expression. “Darling,” he says, like Alex is being a little bit slow. “You’re the one who put my hand there.”

“What?”

“You put my hand there,” Henry repeats. The corner of his mouth twitches up in the slightest hint of a smirk, which Alex resolves to do something about momentarily. “You literally reached over about five minutes ago, wormed your way beneath my arm and then bodily forced my hand in your hair.” Almost a full-blown smirk now, and yep, Alex is definitely going to kiss it right off his face in a second. “Wouldn’t be the first time, either, in case you happened to wonder.”

Lies, Alex thinks.

“Lies,” Alex tells him. “That is not a thing.” At Henry’s look, which is altogether too smug for his liking (another lie, thinks Alex again, he actually likes it a hell of a lot), he leans back in, pressing his nose against Henry’s jawline. “But I do like it when you talk dirty to me.”

Henry’s breath gives the tiniest hitch, fingers tightening almost reflexively in Alex’s hair. It sends a full-body shudder down his spine, driving all rational thought from his mind as he presses even closer, and, well—even if it is a thing that he does (it isn’t (oh, it so, so is)), Alex can hardly be held accountable when this is the state it leaves him in, can he?

also on ao3 because why not.

#rwrb #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrbedit #rwrbsource #i wrote a little instead of giffing today and it was nice #probs going to write a morning sex followup feat. alex's hands in henry's hair this time #henry's hair deserves some lovin' too #(the venus that's at the met btw)#(just realized the gif makes it confusing)#red white and royal blue

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allthegothihopgirls · 7 days

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jason todd.... parallels.... monster..... frankenstein.... what if...

#i did actually have this brief thought like weeks ago before the ask #i was reading one of those jason post-pit body dysmorphia fics and there was a line that made him sound like frankenstein's monster..#i ACTUALLY didn't think about it all too much until the ask. then i was like. yeah this is what the universe wants me doing #but now it's almost 1am and i can't sleep #they're holding hands and doing cartwheels in my head #jason todd #frankenstein #frankenstein's monster #red hood #robin #dc comics #dcu #dc #gothihop speaks

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fistfuloflightning · 3 months

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because I need some mental support for the emotional trauma that surely awaits in the newest chapter of From Our Soiled Hearts, have some wedding wish fulfillment fluff from its happier, less emotionally taxing but no less satisfying sister Silence Withered in Spring, also by the wonderfully talented @limitbreaker23 💕

#not pictured:#jin ling and lan yuan as the flowergirl and ring bearer respectively #I only had black and red pen on hand so I’m glad it turned out decent!#it’s so incredibly rough compared to my usual standards since I did this between classes 😬#mdzs #zhancheng #lan wangji #jiang cheng #fic recs #character design #fanfic fanart #mdzs art #my art #I couldn’t get the image out of my head of jl and lsz weaving the headband they’d made into lwj’s hair 🫠💕

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raayllum · 1 month

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listen I know we're rooting for "white hair streak" Callum as a symbol / effect of dark magic, and while I think it's more likely than the alternative, given that it has largely been Claudia (and Ziard's) territory thus far, I think we're underselling the tragic potential of Callum being given the corruptive face instead of a white streak

The facial / bodily corruption physically manifesting has solely been demonstrated through Viren thus far, who is Callum's primary foil (even if he, like many others, also has parallels with Claudia and her dark magic use in particular)

We know that just one spell can warrant the corruption (Viren received his after healing Soren) and require it to be hidden

Seeing the corrupted face of himself was enough for Callum to reject being a dark mage in 2x08, but as we know, neither that nor the threat of Aaravos was enough to make him not do it again in 5x08

Just as Viren's dark magic face informs his duality and how honest he's being with himself and others, if Callum wears his / in the lead up to his immediate second possession, it could show a similar erosion of identity (i.e. that Callum has lost himself physically and mentally due to the possession)

We also know there's a way to heal heavy dark magic corruption other than just Purification given the Mushroom mage's spell with Zubeia. Possible symbolism of Callum being returned to normal / uncorrupted and healed once he breaks free?

Viren's corrupted face, even though he covered it up, is something he links to Lissa ultimately leaving him. Meanwhile, one of S6's inversions will seemingly be Callum likewise going to extremes / following in Viren's footsteps, and Rayla being the opposite of Lissa in refusing to leave

#tdp callum #dark magic #mine #text post #s6 speculation #prompts #arc 2 #like do i think this'll be canon? not really / not at all no. fic / fanart wise? fun to play around with #it was just red #rayllum #sort of #just consider ezran or rayla taking his face in their hands while he cries and promising that they still love him #that he's still himself and they know why he did it / forgive him and they're going to fix this for him #bc he's not alone and they'll make sure of it #tag ramble

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redriotinggg · 4 months

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I just know that Usopp had the time of his life teasing Sanji after he pulled out his Germa suit in Wano. He wasted no time in taunting him about how the former Warlord Trafalgar Law was practically falling all over himself to gush over Stealth Black and all of his cool tricks.

Nami told Usopp all about how Sanji had Basil Hawkins and Tim Drake blushing at the sight of him. The chef scowls as Usopp cackles away.

“You know, for a guy who’s so into the ladies, you sure do attract a lot of male attention,” the sniper teases. “A bathhouse full of naked women and they’re looking at you! Not that I can blame them.”

Sanji tries to strangle him but Usopp is quick when he wants to be. And tricky, too—he turns the tables on Sanji, one hand grabbing his and the other pulling him in by the waist.

“Unfortunately for them, the great Soba Mask is already spoken for,” Usopp says, voice low and deep as he looks into Sanji’s eyes. “And I’m not letting anyone take him from me ever again.”

Sanji can do nothing but blink at him, face turning redder by the second as affection for Usopp blooms in his chest.

“You better not,” he manages to grumble. He rests his head on Usopp’s shoulder to bask in that affection. To hide a little bit.

Usopp wraps his arms around him and holds him close, feeling just as grateful for the embrace.

And in typical Usopp fashion, he takes the opportunity to ruin the moment.

“So… how do you feel about wearing the costume in the bedroom?”

“Usopp!”

“Just the cape? Come on, man, please, you look super hot!”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

Usopp shoves him and runs, screaming and laughing as Sanji gives chase.

There are things to do, people to save, and wars to fight. But for now the pair allow themselves to laugh and play, sharing a moment just for themselves.

#sanuso #usosan #sansopp #usopp #sanji #one piece #all usopp does is flirt with sanji and get him all flustered i’m so sick #writing for them is just a constant loop of ‘ur so silly ur so sweet ur so sad’#anyone else literally insane about them? raise your hand #red’s fic

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cuubism · 1 year

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Okay but AFTER Dream dramatically storms into Desire's realm yelling "WTF did you do to Hob" I can't imagine Desire just...ignored that. They 100% had to go check out this human and see what is so interesting that Dream is all twisted up in knots over him. Can very much picture Desire swanning into the New Inn in their craziest Lady Gaga outfit already drinking a cosmopolitan and introducing themselves to Hob. Because Desire realises that rather than plotting Dream's downfall they can fuck with Dream INFINITELY more by bothering his immortal crush. It's the sibling instinct.

oh. they DEFINITELY will. and like. eventually dream explains his whole thought process, and the fact that desire has fucked with him in the past (hob: dear god why is your family so fucked up), and dream is basically like: DO NOT. ENGAGE WITH DESIRE. IF THEY TRY TO TALK TO YOU. just call me (he still does not have a phone so unclear how this will work) and i'll kick their ass.

critical point: dream did not in any way tell hob how to IDENTIFY DESIRE.

---

The person who struts -- it's really the only word Hob can think of -- over to the bar at the New Inn makes him uneasy, though he can't say why. Hob is not made uncomfortable easily, he's lived too long and been in too many scrapes to feel intimidated in his own pub, of all places.

But something about them makes his hackles rise. The eyes, maybe. They're too cunning.

But he's not in the habit of throwing people out on looks so he just offers a tight smile and says, "Get you something?"

He's tending bar himself, today. Gives him something to do between terms. And he finds himself strangely grateful to have the bar between him and his strange customer as they slide onto one of the bar stools.

"Cosmo, please," they say, voice like sugar halfway to caramelizing, a bit of pop and smoke in the smooth glide.

This is a bit of an odd drink selection for eleven in the morning, but Hob has, at various points in his life though thankfully no longer, done lines of cocaine before even having breakfast, so he really has no pedestal from which to judge.

"Coming right up."

The bar at the New Inn is well-stocked nowadays. Used to be, they served mainly beer and wine, nothing fancy. Then Hob made the horrible mistake of promising his students an end of term cocktail-making class if they came to all the exam review sessions -- because he does actually know how to make drinks, he's been alive for six centuries, thanks very much -- and now it's become a thing and he's stuck doing it forever.

Then Dream took to his drinks, and alcohol is no substitute for food but getting Dream to eat or drink anything is a bloody miracle, so if that anything is the bougiest mixture of alcohols Hob can come up with, well--

Actually. Actually that might be worse than nothing at all.

Makes Dream happy though, so what is Hob to do? Keep ordering luxardo cherries and elderflower liqueur until he outlives them, that's what.

He finishes shaking the drink under the heavy gaze of his guest and pours, sliding it across the table to them.

Hob feels like he's being sized up by a predator as they take a long, delicate sip. The color of the drink matches the pink of their blazer. Hob is struggling to recall if said blazer was actually pink when they arrived.

"Ah. You mix a good drink, Hob Gadling," they say, propping their head on their hand, looking a him from under their lashes, and, ah, so that's what this is.

Hob leans on the bar. "What sort of... entity are you, then?"

Their whole face brightens in what Hob thinks is delight. "Oh! So you are a perceptive one. Get a lot of entities in here, do you, Robert?"

"'Bout as many as can be expected. That's not an answer."

They pout. "Neither is yours. And can't a being just pop by the local speakeasy for a drink without being interrogated?"

"Seems a little unfair that you know my name, and I don't know yours," Hob points out. "Names have power, and so on, isn't that the thing?"

His guest studies him. "You are both far more normal and far less normal than I'd been expecting. Fascinating."

Um.

Before Hob is forced to respond to that, the door swings open to reveal Dream, shrouded in darkness and nighttime and vibrating with electrical fury. Shadows crawl up the windows. All the lights in the inn flicker out.

Oh boy.

"I," Dream says, each word a thunderclap, shining gaze fixed on Hob's guest at the bar, "Explicitly. Forbade. You. From. Interfering."

"What are you going to do, hit me?" taunts the other entity, leaning back on their stool, drink balanced in one hand.

Hob looks back and forth between them, wondering if he should fetch a weapon. He keeps a cricket bat here somewhere, surely...

"Dream, love," he says, once he's decided it's better to try to deescalate the situation rather than introducing further weaponry, "your usual?"

Dream nods, stalking over to the bar. His gaze flits briefly to Hob, softening, before snapping right back to the other being.

"I see you remain incapable of heeding a warning," he says, all ice.

"It's not really part of my nature," they say. "I see it, I like it... well, you get it."

Oh. Oh no.

Cautiously, Hob slides his drink over to Dream. Without breaking eye contact with... Desire? it must be, and thanks, Dream, for the complete lack of description, Dream picks up his drink and downs the whole thing in one long swallow.

Ooooooh boy.

"Desire," Hob says, and they perk up at his realization of their name, looking over at him, "might be better if you were going now."

Desire lets out a frustrated huff. "Ugh, of course. I certainly don't want to upset 'ole Nightmare here."

"You certainly don't want my fist in your jaw," Hob says, more audible threat in it than he intends -- but he remembers Dream's halting confession, about how often love had turned out to be manipulation, and he thinks he should be congratulated on his restraint, actually.

Desire just laughs, and-- ah, Hob is starting to see that there's no winning with this one. Even and especially when you haven't agreed to the game.

"I suppose I'll be going then, before the fists start flying." They slide out of their seat and glide towards the door, waving. "Nice meeting you, Robert! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, soon."

I don't doubt it, Hob thinks.

They take their drink with them. Hob's not feeling particularly inclined to chase down that glass.

Dream still hasn't moved. He stares after Desire, empty glass about to crack in his grip.

"Dream?"

"I said that you should call for me," Dream says, the ghost of words.

With what means, exactly? Hob thinks. Damned enigmatic shadow of a man. "You didn't tell me who to look out for."

"Oh." Dream finally snaps out of his daze. "Yes. I apologize."

"Come sit down."

Hob fetches a glass of water and drags Dream over to their usual booth, pushing the water into his hands. "Drink that."

Dream stares down at it. "Why?"

"Because you just chugged a drink you usually sip for hours. Drink."

"I will not get drunk unless I choose to," Dream says.

"Have you tested that?" Hob asks.

Dream's brows furrow. "...No."

"Then let's not do that now. Drink. Come on."

Dream sips at the water. "I am sorry," he says, slowly, "about Desire."

"And I'm sorry I didn't actually punch them," Hob says, making Dream look up at him in surprise. "Well. Sort of. Wouldn't want to make it worse."

A smile tugs at Dream's lips. "You would... defend my honor?"

"Always," Hob vows. "I'd defend you. Don't care if the devil himself has it out for you."

"That may well happen," Dream says.

Hob stares at Dream. Dream stares back.

"Oh," Hob says, or maybe just hopes, "you're making a joke."

"No," says Dream. "Lucifer and I are on poor terms at the moment. She may seek revenge."

Hob keeps staring at him. Dream meets his gaze evenly.

Hob scrubs his hands through his hair. "Lucifer and you..."

Why was it always like this?

When he looks up again, Dream is smirking at him. "You're a menace," Hob tells him. "One day, you're going to give me the full rundown of everyone who has beef with you so I can be prepared."

"That will be a long list," Dream says.

"Of course it is," Hob sighs.

Dream takes his hand as if he can comfort Hob through all of the insane interactions he's sure to have with strange beings in the near future. The worst thing is, it works. Hob squeezes his hand and immediately remembers why he's willing to do anything for him.

"I'd go to Hell for you," he says. "I'd prefer not to, though, if it's all the same."

"That is my preference as well," says Dream.

There's a lot Hob would do for Dream. It's probably unhealthy. But what's the point of living six hundred years if you're going to spend it all being healthy, anyway.

"Why do so many people have problems with you, anyway?" Hob asks.

Hob knows. Hob fucking knows why.

Dream pouts. "Matthew tells me my social skills are 'less than adequate.'"

That's one way to phrase 'you act like an arrogant dick 85% of the time.' Matthew should receive a medal for his tact.

Hob loves that arrogant dick, though, God fucking damn him.

"All the more reason to get me that list, then," Hob says. "Maybe we can prevent you from creating an interdimensional incident."

"Will you accomplish this by threatening to punch them in the face?" Dream asks, completely neutral.

"Okay, you know what? Fair," Hob admits, and Dream chuckles. "Perhaps neither of us is cut out for diplomacy. The point, though, is: of course I'd defend you. I love you."

Dream kisses the back of his hand. As if he's only just now realized what he's done to Hob's pub, the lights all flicker back on.

"Thank Christ, I thought I was going to have to replace all those bulbs."

"Do you think I would do that to you?" Dream says with a tiny smile, Hob's hand still pressed to his lips.

You've done worse than that to me, Hob thinks. Better, too. So much better.

"No, love," he says, "I know you wouldn't."

#hob just feeding dream fancy cocktails with one hand while he fights off lucifer with a bat with the other #'it's rotten work' 'YEAH IT SURE FUCKING IS'#this got so meandering this has no structure at all #in my head dream is the type of person who will only drink like. elevated stuff. like he is not just casually drinking pints at the pub #u feel me. and he never gets drunk. u will only catch him with an elaborate expensive cocktail or a fine red wine #or a glass of truly ancient scotch #dream's drink of choice at the new inn is a vieux carre not that it matters in the slightest #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #desire of the endless #the sandman #my writing #ask #merytsetesh

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ceruleancattail · 9 months

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Granted

Malleus x bard reader

(A continuation of Encounter.)

Fingers trailing over your palm, carefully tracing every line. His touch was gentle, carrying the warmth of golden sunshine, alighting on a daisy. You stifle a yawn.

Malleus has been at this for awhile. Rubbing slow circles into your skin with his thumb, his touch lingering on your callouses. Rough patches of skin, hardened from years of playing your instrument.

They scratched at every surface they alighted upon. A husk of skin, protecting the tender flesh lying underneath.

Not the most attractive part of your body, if you do say so yourself.

Fingertips sore and red from plucking strings, crescents of crimson peeking from underneath your nails. They used to sting, with the fury of a thousand wasps. Now, the pain’s dulled itself to a persistent throb, gnawing away at your hand.

It still hurts, but not as much as it used to.

A sigh, Malleus’s breath wafting against your hand. A ticklish sensation. A laugh slips from your lips, before you pull your hand away. Eyes of emerald follow your hand, watching it as it drops onto your lap.

Leaning towards him, you elbow Malleus playfully.

“What’s up with you and my hand? Wanna’ put a ring on that?”

He blinks slowly, as if a raindrop just splattered onto his forehead. Stunned surprise, eyes widening like a cat caught unawares. Another laugh falls from your lips, as you clutch at your trembling sides.

You’ll never get tired of just how expressive Malleus could be. You just can’t see him on a throne, not after your travels with him. Even if you tried, the only image you could conjure up was his smile.

A warm, soothing thing that simply just shone. Not with the sheer power of sunshine, blinding all who witnessed it. Malleus smiled with the serene aura of the moon, the silver light glowing in the pitch black night sky.

His lips moved ever so slightly. Forming words so impossibly soft, that they were blown away by the breeze.

“Perhaps I shall.”

“I beg your pardon?”

You tilt your head a little closer to him, trying to catch even a letter of his words.

Malleus only chuckles, your words a melody to his ears. Goodness, what power you hold. To be able to charm him with your words alone. What a terrifying bard.

“You may have it. I was only wondering about the… stiffness of your hands.”

Stretching your arms out, you held both of your hands aloft, palms facing him. The position was strangely reminiscent of a prayer. You dangle your hands in front of him, wiggling your fingers.

“Years of playing music, Malleus. That’s what it’ll do to your hands. These are the hands of a fighter, my dear prince.”

Reaching for your hands, he squeezes them affectionately. Holding them gingerly within his own, Malleus’ heartbeat tapping lightly into your hands.

“Perhaps, child of man. Perhaps.”

A rustle, as Malleus’ tail snakes forward. A scaly, ebony thing, resting on his lap. He releases your hand, running it down his tail. Scales slip off at his touch, clattering onto the ground. Riffling through the debris, he picks out a particularly small one.

Edges rounded, it’s slightly comical all alone in his hand. Black as the night sky, yet there was a certain twinkle to it that was simply enchanting. As if a star was shattered into fragments and scattered throughout the scale.

It sparkled in the light.

An entire universe, condensed into this one scale.

Malleus places it in your hands, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s admirable, how hard you have been fighting for your music.”

Lowering his head, Malleus presses a kiss into the very tip of your fingers. A light, fleeting thing. Much like the wings of a butterfly, just barely brushing against your skin.

“The scars of a warrior are not easily earned. A courageous fighter, indeed.”

He gesture to the scale.

“It’s about time someone gave you a sword.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus Draconia x reader #malleus #lucky potion🔹#I’M BACK SUCKERS #anyway encounter kicked the ever living shit out of me but this idea was gnawing at my brain for the entire day #yeah the scale is explained!!!!!!! Malleus doesn’t want to see your hands all red and sore :(((( so he gets you a pick!#literally…. from his tail…. but like hey it’s pretty smooth!#being super honest encounter and granted were supposed to be one big fic #but like I had to pace myself before my brain overheated #but I’m pretty happy with how these two turned out!#would you victims be interested in seeing what the other options lead to?

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a-not-so-clean-blog · 1 month

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I JUST HAD A THOUGHT!

So a clan members gemstone is an erogenous zone, right?

...Pre-marital hand holding

#just imagining holding their hand and whe you look at them their face is bright red! especially Edmond #i am so incorporating this into my next fic!#nu carnival #nu carnival quincy #nu carnival edmond #a degenerates journal

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sensationseekng · 3 months

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izzy as the eight of cups - giving up and moving on, courage and loss, letting go of friends, lovers, and old ways of being

(that's the inn in the distance)

eight of cups description from Little Red Tarot:

#is this ghost izzy on a ghost ship? alive izzy on the revenge? alive izzy on his own? ghost izzy on the revenge? yes :)#im so so pro Izzy living his own life and not haunting Ed and maybe coming back to visit and learning how to be actual friends with Ed #i came to this pairing for the x rated violent fan fic #but all I want for them post season 2 is learning how to be gentle with th each other #become trustworthy #learn how to love each other better!!!#Izzy is both dead and alive in my universe thank you for understanding #description from little red tarot is exactly what I am going for #(is this about my relationship w the show? maybe a little)#I’ve had this idea in my head for months now but when I heard the show was cancelled it was like well now I gotta make it RIGHT NOW #my horse girl past serves me well when it’s time to draw the hoof #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means fanart #israel hands #edizzy #blackhands

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beanghostprincess · 2 months

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Sometimes I think that even if shanks was asked by buggy for help because of the cross guild he would probably do nothing that useful since mihawk is his other close bond and he wouldn’t want to go against him and I get for some reason kinda sad

Agree to disagree, anon, because this is saying that hypothetically Buggy would ask Shanks for help because of the Cross Guild. A thing that could never happen in a million years and Buggy would rather die than ask Shanks anything. But let's say that Buggy (reluctantly) asks Shanks for help.

There are a lot of outcomes here, tbh, since it's hard for me to picture this situation but-- If Buggy is seriously in a big problem with Cross Guild I think Shanks wouldn't hesitate to help him? He won't kill Mihawk, obviously, but I don't see why Shanks wouldn't fight him if talking doesn't work. They get along but they're still pirates and if Buggy is in actual deadly danger he's going to help him out. I love Shanks and Mihawk too but, like, story-wise and canonically Shanks' bond with Buggy is a lot more crucial and important (as I see it) and I don't see why his bond with Mihawk would affect his decision here, tbh.

It's either that or he sends Beck and goes "haha Buggy how could you say you're in danger??? I trust you can get out of this one alone 🙏🏻 And also I don't wanna go, so here's my first mate to keep an eye on you. Don't stab him, please". And Beck wants to die a little bit because why the hell does he have to do this-

But if Shanks knew Buggy was in real deadly danger, he would help. Also, the fact that Buggy is asking him for help is enough sign of something going extremely wrong, so-

#shanks is realistic and knows the pirate world and is aware that he might have to fight friends tbh #he won't seek fight with mihawk quite obviously but if it's needed he would #okay but seriously the point isn't 'would shanks fight mihawk'. it's 'would cross guild fight shanks'#i read a fic once about shanks going to save buggy bc he has a vivre card and it's literally burning bc buggy is dying in their hands #and shanks goes directly to help him and tbh i really liked it #he gives buggy space outside of their past relationship the way he wanted but he won't let buggy die #i mean-- he has a friendship with mihawk but we barely know anything about it so idk if what they have going on would be enough to stop him #maybe i am just in denial and i really like shanks caring for buggy #although i don't like buggy asking for help tbh #one piece #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #shuggy #cross guild #dracule mihawk

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