#ok i had fun writing this one
Note
Hiii!!! Can I request a girlfriend Rindou reader, where Tenjiku doesn't even know he has a girlfriend like Ran doesn't even know, and so she meets Tenjiku, and she can fight really really good and she's like PRETTY PRETTY and like how...? Did RINDOU EVEN GET HER? And she stars to catch other members eyes ;)
ᥫ᭡ for haitani rindou and tenjiku, WAREHOUSE ROMCOM.
in which you insist on meeting your boyfriend's current gang and fuck, you definitely just knocked out one of their captains.
𔘓 it's my first time writing for some of these guys so i'm sorry if they're ooc D: you used she/her and mentioned girlfriend so i'll be using those for this fic :] around 3.1k words of chaos.
“rin, how come i’ve never met any of your friends?”
the timing doesn’t allow for a deep conversation. rindou’s too busy messing with his laptop, one earbud immersing him in whatever program was running. meanwhile, a catalog resting on your lap took half your attention.
as expected, the question is around the fifth priority in rindou’s head. “buncha smelly thugs, you wouldn’t like ‘em.”
“and you’re not in that demographic?” you idly munch on some snacks you scavenged from his pantry.
“no, i’m not.” rindou scoffs like you just spat on his entire bloodline. “i’m your handsome boyfriend who you love very, very much.”
oh, this sweater has a really nice discount. “what about your brother? i've never seen him either, i’m starting to think you’re actually an only child.”
he’s gonna pretend like his comment going ignored didn’t sting a little.
“you should be grateful, once you meet ran you’ll be cursed with a killer headache for the rest of your life.”
somehow it doesn’t seem as bad, nor does it deter you in the slightest. whine all he wants, rindou loves his brother. he knows it, and so do you.
“rinnie.” a vein could very well pop out his head at the dumb nickname. “are you embarrassed of me?”
(you know rindou would kiss the floor you walk on. still? good leverage).
his typing halts, left earbud joining the right to hang around his neck. a thousand times of the same coercion tactics should have prepared him better. should have. be as it may, rindou’s heartbeat stops for a minute.
you’re the one good thing he’s got going on, why would he ne embarrassed of you? no, never, he loves you too much.
not like he’d willingly admit to it, though. “a little” his typing resumes, this time a little more attentive to the situation. safety measures and all that.
seems he’s not budging. the playful banter turns into a bitter taste in your mouth. “rude.”
rindou doesn’t like your sudden silence. it cuts at his facade like the dullest of knives—painfully slow.
he can’t win against you. if there's one more thing he hates more than sweaty gym equipment is getting on your bad side.
“i’m not embarrassed, you’re just too pretty for them.” it’s not a lie.
“flattery won’t save you from sleeping on the couch.”
he’s in his own home, it's his couch and bed. “if i take you to meet them once,” rindou emphasizes the word, “will you be pleased?”
you would, “a little.”
works for him.
rindou groans like the sore loser he is, yet hands you an earbud. “whatever, don’t come cryin’ when you realize they're actually lame."
secretly, he prays you don't like them better than him.
"they're your friends—or gang, i'm guessing—i would never think bad of them."
aren't you just a godsend? rindou breathes a chuckle, pressing play. whatever wrinkles remained on his face washed away when you bobbed your head to his mix. he forgives you for being a pain in his ass.
everything’s fair in love and war; you came and conquered with ease. as implicit as he fights to keep it, rindou's a big softie for you.
you lean over to kiss his temple, maybe you’ll buy that sweater you saw for this special occasion.
just this once, punctuality would be the death of you.
the only street light a couple meters away flickers every two minutes, you’ve got no service, and the run-down warehouse you’re leaning on is the shadiest spot rindou’s asked you to meet at. seriously, what’s his issue?
“little late for someone like you to be out alone, isn’t it?” couldn’t have said it better, voice you've never heard before.
..wait.
with a gulp, you turn to meet whoever was talking to you. it’s not the least comforting when you have to look up to see his face. tall, weird eyebrows, and overall menacing.
for once in your goddamn life, think!
“yeah—i mean, it must suck to be alone in the dead of night.” you laugh nervously, as if to quell the goosebumps rising in your arms. “not me though, nope.”
mochi squints his eyes. you can’t be serious, right? there’s no one else in the entire block. “‘s that so?”
one gulp to hush your anxiety. “yup, my boyfriend’s waiting for me, if i don’t show he’ll come looking,” great, now you’re shaking.
he’s not gonna buy it. this is the end, death by two hands the size of your head. truly tragic.
“only a shitty boyfriend would leave you all alone like this,” he huffs. it’s true, part of him wants to wait and chew out whoever this man is.
safe to say, you have to agree. rindou is a dead man as soon as he shows his face, and it won’t be at the hands of this monster of a guy.
blame it on your current hyperfocus on every little thing (something’s gotta make up for your obvious lack of fight or flight) you can’t help but notice he’s wearing all red—is that a gang uniform?
funny how hope goes out as quick as that.
rindou’s uniform is most definitely not red. the fight bound to unleash is already brewing inside your mind, you’re not even sure if rindou can take a hit from this guy. if he ever gets here, only one of these two would walk away.
you have to act, fast.
“it’s not safe, what’s a thing like you gonna do if—”
he makes the mistake of looking into your eyes. they’re wide, like a deer caught in headlights; innocent.
mochizuki’s second mistake is not noticing the right hook you swing.
the light flickers again, and one of tenjiku’s heavenly kings falls unconscious.
it goes without saying you fucking panic.
“i didn't mean to—shit!” you’re kneeling beside his body, checking for pulse. of course there's still a pulse, there’s no way you could actually kill a guy like that. “i’m so, so sorry.”
he didn’t even try to hurt you. are you the monster here?
initially, you were worried rindou would be the one to start a fight if he saw you cornered by the guy. never would you have thought the culprit would be none other than yourself.
quickly, your sweater becomes a makeshift pillow—the least you could do for knocking the living daylights out of him. though you do cringe when the brand-new fabric soaks up all the dirt on the ground.
it’s okay, surely once he wakes again you can explain you didn’t mean to hit him. you were aiming for… a fly? a mosquito? those can carry deadly diseases. sure, let’s go with that.
kakucho doesn’t know what he just walked into.
there’s a stranger kneeling beside mochi whispering in a fret to herself, something about the last recorded case of dengue fever in japan. right, he was also unconscious.
soon, you notice him too. particularly his red uniform.
there’s a brief pause in which you just stare at each other.
come to think of it, you’d probably kick the bucket in these clothes, and you wouldn’t mind. dying with these on would be something you can live with—or die, rather? idioms are dumb. point is, you picked a really nice outfit for your supposed date with rindou.
rindou haitani, who somehow managed to be late enough to miss you picking a fight with another gang member.
the silence is deadly.
“you’re… his friend, right?” cautiously, you’re the one to break it. “i figured he'd appreciate a pillow to enjoy his nap.”
so why was his cheek painted a raging red? god, that’s a nasty bruise.
kakucho blinks twice. then, he looks around, trying to discern any other lifeform in close vicinity. any possible culprit. anything to explain what the fuck is going on.
“are you alone?” the question is courtesy, he already knows the answer.
“no.” maybe he didn’t know after all.
he narrows his eyes, and you rush to fix whatever mistake you made. “my boyfriend—and friends, so many friends, are waiting on me. they’ll know if i don’t show up.”
you’re nervous. kakucho steps closer, and you’re quick to jump on your feet. “you’re right, i should probably go—”
“did you do this?”
“do what?”
as if it wasn’t obvious, he waves his arm at his fallen friend. “this.”
it’s been a long night. you’re frustrated, terrified out of your goddamn mind, and you can’t help the panic tears that start to form.
“i’m so sorry!” you bow, trying to hold back from outright sobbing in front of the delinquent. “he—i was alone, and he came around and-and started talking to me and i just, i got scared!”
kakucho blinks, again.
“i didn’t mean to hurt him, i’m sure he’s a great guy, i was just jumpy, and fuck i didn't mean to cause any trouble.”
tears run down your cheeks, mourning both your sweater as a breeze rolls by and your wasted last moments of youth. great, you’re making it awkward.
sometimes instincts take over, and kakucho is unsure why he’s shrugging off his tenjiku coat. neither does he have an answer as to why he reached to drape it over your shoulders.
“c’mon, just breathe.”
you do. you take a deep, deep breath, and your problems start to lessen. not actually though, the other gang member is still very much on the ground. however, it's nice not feeling in immediate danger anymore.
kakucho settles down next to mochi, and pats the ground next to him. “sit.”
last thing he tasked you ended up helping, so you decide to listen once more. a respectable distance away from him, you sit.
he’s not sure where to start. there’s so many questions he needs the answer to.
(how did you take out mochi? how did you know the exact warehouse where the higher-ups were meeting tonight?)
but he keeps quiet.
either way, any explanations coming from you would be interrupted by hiccuping, and he didn’t want to risk any more crying from you.
“am i in trouble?”
the answer should be obvious. kakucho knows you’re aware of the mess you’re in now. still, there must be something missing. “i can count with one hand the people who’ve been able to take mochi out.”
so that’s his name. your gaze lands on him, peacefully resting. it’s a nice name.
“so i need you to be honest,” kakucho tries his best to speak gently. “did you do this?”
he takes in a sharp breath when you nod.
“...how?”
the strained chuckle that leaves your lips makes his heart skip a beat or two. “i just, y’know, hit him.”
“but, how?” the mere thought is baffling to him.
“i can show you if you want.” you bite back. it’s playful. now you can cross-out befriending a random delinquent from your bucket list.
“never thought i’d see kakucho flirting.” a new voice enters the array. “didn’t know he had it in him.”
white hair flows freely, unfazed by the unresponsive commander beside the two. his presence exudes commands without diction. explain, now.
kakucho’s posture stiffens, and he’s quick to get back on his feet. “i arrived and mochi was knocked out, seemingly by,” he pauses to look at you. “uh, what’s your name?”
you match his movements, standing up and completely ignoring his question. “i’m really sorry about that, i didn’t know he was—”
izana interrupts the meaningless spiel, “your name, what is it?"
shivers crawl up your spine. a phantom would be more merciful with the frighten. so you answer his question.
and just like that, poor mochi is forgotten. "i like your name, it's nice on the ears."
you know better than to grimace at the compliment (was it really?) "i should get going, i don't want to be in your hair any longer."
izana follows your every movement with violet eyes. not a word is uttered, just a plastered, quite unsettling smile on his face as acknowledgment.
right, your idiot boyfriend. one quick glance at the no signal on your phone serves as a reminder you're stranded.
a jingle brings you back to reality. it's izana, tilting his head. "what's wrong?"
well, you're certain all trains back home stopped doing rounds about half an hour ago, and there’s no way you can catch a ride from either of these two.
(the guy with the scar would probably do it, he seems kind. the urge to squish his cheeks like a grandma would is intense.)
"actually," an awkward laugh makes up for the nerves rattling within. "i.. can't leave, not yet."
his patience is wearing thin, you presume. "is that so?"
from behind you, kakucho shifts. would they even go for a one on two? when you're the one wearing heels?
"i told kakucho—" you glance back to confirm you remembered his name correctly, biting back a smile when he looks surprised. "—i was waiting for my friends and boyfriend, specifically at this exact, dirty warehouse."
izana doesn't look satisfied.
"half of that was a lie, it's just my boyfriend i'm supposed to meet." this doesn't seem to be getting any better.
he's thinking about something.
"i know i shouldn't have lied, but it's basic street smarts! can't blame me for that."
he steps closer, seemingly having resolved whatever idea was brewing in his head.
you're close to going on another rant on street safety, or maybe going for another swing, but izana makes you stop dead in your tracks. "do you wanna be kakucho's girlfriend?"
smelly thugs was cutting it short, this guy was bizarre as fuck.
kakucho is grateful you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. tenjiku’s number two, overwhelmed with a barrage of embarrassment and murderous tendencies for his one and only king.
(was he that obvious? were his fleeting glances that easy to notice?)
izana on the other hand had only just begun his career as a salesman. “kakucho here is a great guy—the definition of a gentleman and a picture-perfect servant.”
odd way of selling someone for a boyfriend. you’d have a few pointers and even additions to his pitch, except you literally have a boyfriend, and you’ve told him so.
you check for the hour. maybe you’ll consider his proposal if kakucho isn’t horrid with meeting on time. “go on.”
two heavenly kings have yet to show their faces, another is knocked out, and the last is close to digging himself an early grave.
“so you’ll date kakucho then?”
has he heard a single word you’ve spoken? “i have a boyfriend.”
“it’s a yes or no question, preferably yes or yes.”
it’s better if you ignore the vague implication of a threat behind his statement. “rain check?”
that seems to please him. “i’m izana,” he offers his hand for a handshake. “pleasure doing business with you.”
“cool.” you’re absolutely sure he’s missing a screw in his head, but it’s funny.
“too late to join the roster?” to absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s a new voice joining this sick joke of a night. you’re amazed at the fact four men have managed to show up unannounced to your date, and none are the one you're actually going out with.
izana turns to meet the new addition, eyebrow raising at the fact it’s only half the duo.
“he’s finding a spot to park, sent me to check on that one over there.” one hand points to you, the other toys with a dual-colored braid.
he’s clad in a black uniform—just like rindou’s. everything's even more confusing now, hurray you!
kakucho, who’s more than grateful to leave the past conversation behind, begins to process the situation. “you know ran?”
“ran?” puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. “as in haitani? ran haitani?”
the man himself lets out a low whistle. “sorry man, only been here for at least half a minute and i’m already takin' the spotlight—nothing personal.”
that’s not how you meant it at all. “no-”
“kakucho gave her his jacket.” izana you are not helping.
“that has nothing to do with this.” kakucho pleads to everything under the sun for his boss to just, shut up. just this once.
“ran, where’s ri-”
“see? already reeling back to me, i think i've got more game than you.” rindou was right, he’s a living headache.
izana tugs at your blouse. “you already said yes on kakucho, no take backs.”
“that never happened.” kakucho, angel on earth, everyone.
something boils from within. "i have a boyfriend."
“you’re too pretty for him.” he blurts without an ounce of hesitation in his body. it’s amusing how ran said the same thing as rindou—they really are family. still, no. does he even know you're dating his brother?
the situation is getting out of hand, your patience is being tested, and you just want to go home at this point.
at this rate you’re sending ran home with half his braids in your fist, izana is getting his arm put in a cast if he utters another word, and kakucho is getting his jacket back and a pat on the head.
there are a few reasons you’re dating rindou haitani. among the perks lies the telepathic bond you two have—whatever you think, rindou is already doing. which is exactly why ran is suddenly getting his braid damn near ripped out by gloved hands.
“wanna say that again?” rindou holds the hair tightly in a fist, he’s fuming. “c'mon, don’t pussy out now.”
the three of you gawk at the scene. kakucho and you in shock, izana in awe. the man of the hour arrived, and everything took a turn for the worse.
the youngest haitani has always followed his older brother like a best friend and inspiration. it’s a relationship based on respect for the other and no one else. sure, they have disagreements, but rindou admires no one more than ran.
the haitani brothers, joined at the hip by crime and blood, now tearing each other apart in the pettiest of ways.
ran, tallest, oldest, arguably strongest, hisses in pain by the harsh tugging. “why dontcha rip it out while y’re fucking at it? whatever got into you?”
izana pokes a finger into your side for the second time. “you know rindou?”
your eyes are glued on the brothers. ran keeps whining, rindou is professing his undying and very much ongoing love for you. “yeah, we’re dating.”
a pause. a long one at that.
“...why?” he sounds puzzled.
rindou screams insults at ran and soon drags his hair-stylist through the mud too, for some reason. “what do you mean by that?”
izana blinks at you like the answer is obvious. “is he like, forcing you or something?”
“what?”
kakucho, who’s been silently witnessing the convo fights to stifle his laughter. it’s of no use, not when you’re throwing his jacket back at his face to shush him. it’s a strong throw, sending him backwards a step or two.
izana thinks you’re funny, too. “you are too pretty for him.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!
#ok i had fun writing this one#rindou x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tenjiku x reader#izana x reader#ran x reader#kakucho x reader#rindou haitani#izana kurokawa#kakucho hitto#ran haitani#tokyo rev x reader#tr x reader#tenjiku#ROGUEL1KE#fem reader#female reader
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Zelda goes mushroom girl
#tloz#a link to the past#zelda#link#my art#I was happy with that first one but for some reason decided it still needed a companion piece so I spent way too long on that second one...#I don't think there was any time during the progress where I was happy with it but hfduhdfu at least I got to Attempt drawing moss hell yea#I also at some point sat in Pyu's art stream and said I enjoy drawing legs As I was being murdered by the infamously impossibe (imo) squat.#it's ok I had fun !! but I need to learn how to let doodles be doodles or I'll never finish stuff at this rate dfsuhfd#if everything in my tloz tag looks like it was drawn by different people uuuh 2023 was art crisis year ngl......#I'm falling back into my old ways rn though#anyway I think about these two a lot I think they're both stone faced and awkward ppl in different ways but they try rly hard to be friends#like I like to think it starts out so incredibly awkward and a bit sad bc they keep stepping over each other's toes accidentally the harder#they try but idk they find comfy middle ground idk in my brain they have a very interesting friendship I wanna get around to drawing it#in a proper way that might make sense....#if I don't write 200 tags I will die maybe it's bc I grew up on dA or smth#and yes I know how to find 1 (one) type of mushroom /I/ am not mushroom girl unfortunately smh
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how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo
synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.
word count; 6.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3
a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity
you are five years old when you meet the prince.
five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.
the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.
”does it hurt?”
the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —
a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.
the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.
there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.
a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.
(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)
satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.
but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy.
the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work.
satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.
and he wins. he always wins.
that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.
time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into.
satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.
that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.
and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears.
but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.
(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)
satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.
because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere.
a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever.
(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)
a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company.
so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone.
it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.
and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true.
there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house.
you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.
when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.
you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.
so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.
the prince and his knight can do what they want.
not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight.
(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.
but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)
satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.
and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying.
but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.
as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect.
all of it for one person.
all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue.
that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.
sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.
a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.
(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)
the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now.
despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.
“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”
you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.
satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.
“sure you do.”
”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”
”definitely.”
a moment passes.
satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”
”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”
he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.
it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.
and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.
a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.
and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.
it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.
”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.
”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”
and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”
there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.
it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.
but…
”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is.
you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.
satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.
after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”
you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.
”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”
satoru sits up a little straighter.
”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”
a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.
when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.
”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”
when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.
(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)
“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.
something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.
”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”
satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.
”settle down, little knight.”
a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl.
”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.”
a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”
you purse your lips.
“… i don’t think so.”
another chuckle. a little delighted, this time.
“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”
a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”
satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?”
“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”
he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.
then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.
“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”
when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable.
then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.
(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)
no matter where he goes, you follow.
and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.
“come with me.”
at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.
it’s the river you used to play by as children.
gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.
satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.
“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”
he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”
he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.
”i think you’re too scared to get in.”
you blink.
”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.
“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”
you raise your brow. unimpressed.
satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own.
“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”
satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little.
his knight. his favourite knight.
“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”
“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.
a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.
the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.
“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”
so you do.
and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate.
the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.
you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.
a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.
his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting.
a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.
but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still.
and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air.
“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”
his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…
(he’s warm.)
silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.
“i missed this.”
…
nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller.
then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?
“… me too.”
“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.”
you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby.
”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”
a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.
”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.”
satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”
another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.
”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.”
a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand.
”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”
silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip.
(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.
when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)
”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.
”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”
a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years.
“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”
silence. and then, a chuckle.
that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.
”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”
but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.
and then;
“i’d do it, you know.”
a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows.
satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”
”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”
…
(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)
you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”
“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”
and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.
“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”
“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”
“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”
you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.
“… sorry.”
a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”
he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”
”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”
”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”
and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.
enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.
”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”
there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.
you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze.
“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”
“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”
a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.
“i don't get it, though.”
you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.
”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”
the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.
satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?”
…
his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”
you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.
”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”
a moment passes.
silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse.
all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.
fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light.
satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.
a boy so sweet you’d die for him.
(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)
a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.
”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”
but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”
”you’ll get sick.”
”i never get sick.”
a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.
a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”
and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else.
but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear.
until satoru suddenly chuckles.
“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”
you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”
before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.
“i think i was born to meet you.”
(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)
#u both catch a cold the next day <33#anyway i am normal about the devotion of a loyal knight paired w the devotion of a man who’s only ever loved one single person in his life#shoutout to knight x royalty dynamics for inventing romance#i wanted to get a good balance on prince!gojo’s twisted side and soft side so i hope i did ok!! :’3#hes a kind man at heart he rly is but i think being born at the peak of the class pyramid does smth to a person lmao#i didn't touch on it in the fic but he would have turned out a lotttt more twisted if he hadnt met reader as a child …#what if i was ur knight..;;; and u were my prince….;;;;; and we changed the trajectory of each other’s lives 😳😳 👉👈#mickey if u see this!!! tysm for letting me write abt this concept i had so much fun!!! this fic is for u <33#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen
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Trick & Treat
18+ 2.1k Dullahan!Homelander x F!Reader. established relationship, body horror, dirty talk, cunnilingus, cream pie. written for monsterlander mania
A world in which all supes are the results of humans experimenting on one another with the blood of Fae from the Seelie Courts. Homelander is one such amalgamation, and as a result of his Gan Ceann blood, he has a particularly neat party trick to show you.
Homelander always kisses you like he means to devour you. You’re certain he could, especially when your teeth touch the sharp juts of his canines. Never do they seem more like fangs than when he’s dragging them along your throat, licking the salt from your skin with a wicked, hungry noise.
“You said you were going to show me a trick,” you remind him with a giggle, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Mmmm, that I did,” he hums, walking into you, forcing you backwards until the back of your legs bump his bed. You laugh as he gives you a gentle push, sending you down onto the plush bedding with a bounce. “Think you can handle it? It’s an awfully spooky trick,” he warns, those fangs of his flashing in a brilliantly white smile.
Sitting up, you scoot forward on the bed so that you can begin working his belt loose. “I’ve handled everything else you’ve thrown at me, haven’t I?”
Dating Homelander has more or less been a gauntlet of how many strange quirks you can endure from a single partner. You’ve grown accustomed to his fussiness when it comes to the rules of hospitality, his severe aversion to any and all iron, his penchant for milk–he likes it best when you leave it out for him unprompted–and most importantly of all, his deep love of jokes and trickery.
“True,” he supposes, cupping either side of your face. He strokes the rise of your cheeks, smiling down at you with the kind of tenderness that makes your stomach flip.
Returning his smile, you tug at the zipper of his pants, but he stops you. “Ah ah ah. I’ll be the one giving you head tonight, missy. But first,” he says, which tells you he most definitely has a scheme in mind. “Undress for me.”
Huffing a playful breath, you withdraw your hands and instead pull off your own shirt. You shimmy out of your pants and underthings next, leveling Homelander with an expectant look once you’re fully undressed. He lets out a low whistle, leaning down to kiss you. “It’s like a self-opening present. Never gets old,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip.
“What’s the trick?” You ask, bouncing lightly on the bed.
He laughs. “So impatient! Fine, fine, alright, Christ,” he says, reaching up to the collar of his suit. He unzips a concealed zipper, and tugs the opening loose. Watching you, he places both hands flat over his temples, and gives you one last lingering look, lips curled in a devious grin. “Y’ready?”
Apprehension crawls into your gut and nestles there, your own smile faltering slightly. “Ready…”
You jump when he snaps his head to the side with a strange sound. It almost sounded like the tear of velcro, and before you can question what the hell it was, the wind is knocked completely from you when he lifts his head clean off his neck. No connective tissue, no blood, no gore. He simply holds his head up like a trophy, the bottom of it an empty, black abyss.
“Surprise!” He says, his disembodied head still grinning as he suddenly holds it out to you.
You scream, scrambling back on the bed, your eyes wide. “What the fuck! Oh my god, what the fuck? What the fuck, Homelander!?”
He starts laughing, kneeling on the bed. “Whaaat? I thought you liked tricks,” he says, placing his head on the bed while he adjusts his collar. “Yeah, we don’t advertise this one too much. Freaks people out,” he says, rolling his eyes. It’s beyond surreal to watch him emote like this, his neck cushioned by the bedding while his body continues to operate behind him.
Mouth agape, you continue to stare at him, a morbid curiosity slipping in amidst the horror. “How… How is this possible?”
“Same bullshit that makes flight and laser vision possible,” he says, watching you. It takes you a moment, but beyond the perverse enjoyment of your shock, you’re sure you see a flicker of apprehension in his expression. He’s waiting, you realize.
Waiting to see how you’ll respond. If you’ll reject him.
These are often the stages of your relationship with Homelander. He parts the curtain of himself bit by bit, daring you to flee with each confession about his existence. This is by far the most alarming reveal so far.
“Does it hurt?” You ask, the tension in your body easing.
He looks surprised, as if no one has ever asked him that before. Behind him, his body shrugs. “Uh, nope. Feels like stretching.”
“This is insane,” you say, crawling towards his head. Of all the things supes are capable of, you’ve never seen anything like this.
His smile slowly returns. “Pick me up.”
Your expression blanches. “What?”
“C’mon! Pick me up. Gimme a kiss,” he says, puckering his lips, coaxing you with kissy sounds.
Oh god.
“I…” You sigh. “...Alright, I’ll… Okay. Let me just…” You slip your hands behind his jaw, cupping the back of his neck, using your thumbs to brace him from tipping forward. “Oh, god, okay, I don’t want to drop–your head is really heavy,” you grunt, surprised by the density of it.
“Thirteen pounds, baby,” he confirms proudly.
“I was sure all the hot air would lessen the load,” you say, hefting him up to your eye level.
“Veeery funny,” he drawls. “Kissy time.”
After one last beat of hesitation, you lean in, bringing him close as you do. Closing your eyes, kissing him feels like it always does. His lips are as hungry for yours as ever, coaxing them into a dance. If not for the weight of all thirteen pounds of his head in your hands, you might forget anything was different at all.
Distracted, you don’t notice the bed dip behind you until you feel Homelander’s gloved hands on you, pulling your back to his chest, startling you. “God,” you gasp as you look back, a shiver running up your spine at the image of his headless torso poised behind you. “That is so fucking scary,” you say, returning your gaze to his head in your hands.
“Relax, babe,” he purrs, licking his lips. “You got your trick. It’s only fair you get a treat now.”
“What do you–oh!” You startle at the press of his fingers between your thighs, grip tightening on his skull. “You seriously want to–to fool around like this?” You ask, unable to do anything but fall back against his chest while his fingertips stroke your clit, his other hand sliding up your side, cupping your breast.
“Do I seriously want to eat your pretty pussy while I fuck you? Uh, yeah. I do,” he says, which admittedly lights a spark right at your core. “C’mon, sweetheart. Like this,” he says, taking his hand from your chest to grab a handful of his own hair, pushing your hold on him down, bringing his head between your legs. He nudges your knees further apart with his own, and brings himself close enough to drag his tongue over your clit, glancing up to watch you shiver, the glint in his eyes downright wicked.
“This is so weird,” you say, but it fades off into a moan as his tongue swirls. He only stops so that he can suck his own fingers into his mouth, thoroughly wetting them before he returns to licking your clit while his spit-slick fingers stroke your cunt, rubbing back and forth a moment before slowly sliding in.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, hips jerking. “Oh, ffffuck…”
It’s almost like being in bed with two different people at once. Homelander is as voracious as ever, licking and sucking every drop that spills from you. You feel his tongue lap at where your pussy is stretched around his fingers before dragging back to your clit, lips closing on it while the pointed tip of his tongue swirls.
“That’s it,” he says between the drags of his tongue. “Taste so fuckin’ good, babe. Ready for me?” He asks, slipping his fingers free. You’re not left hanging for long, the wet head of his cock eagerly nudging your pussy. He moans at that first hot press, giving a playful little growl as he nuzzles against your cunt, sucking hungrily at your clit.
“Yeah, yes, yes, m’ready,” you pant, thighs shaking. His head is getting heavy, but his tongue feels too good to let go of, or even adjust. “Don’t stop, keep–keep doing that.” He eagerly complies, humming against you while the head of his cock splits you open in one slow delicious slide.
You’ve had his head between your legs, and you’ve had the fullness of him inside you, but never could you have imagined both at once. The sheer heat of him is overwhelming, and you shudder bodily against him. His arms move to either side of you, and he nudges your hands out of the way, taking his head from them and relieving you of the weight.
“Touch me,” he groans against you, bracing you firmly in place within the bracket of his arms. You do so readily, slipping one hand into his hair while your other falls to his thigh, gripping it tight. He snaps his hips harder, knocking a moan out of you as he picks up a rhythm, his tongue never once faltering. Your breaths grow pitchier the faster he moves, his arms giving you nowhere to squirm, no reprieve while he fucks and devours you to his hearts content.
All you can do is hold on.
“I-I’m gonna come,” you whine, struggling to get the words out with the way each crack of his hips knocks the breath from you, edging you closer and closer to your climax.
“Me too,” he murmurs, though you feel it more than you hear it. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Do it. Wanna taste it when you come on my cock.”
“Fuck, fuck, Homelander, Homelander!” You cry, your nails biting into the fabric of his suit, yanking hard on his hair as your body locks up. The orgasm that hits is torrential, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your thighs shake, and if not for Homelander’s arms braced on either side of you, holding you tight to his chest, you’d collapse.
All the while he sucks and licks you through it, fucking greedily into your quivering pussy, gasping hot and wet against your clit as he comes, too, fucking it into you as deep as he can while lapping up whatever spills on his tongue.
You sink back against him, loose-limbed and shuddering. Every pass of his tongue earns a jerky little thrust from you, the wet slide of it creating a burst of little aftershocks of pleasure.
Eventually, overstimulation begins to edge out your enjoyment. “Okay,” you rasp, giving his hair a gentle tug at the same time you pat his thigh. “Okay, good, good boy, that was… Fuck.”
Homelander pulls off of your clit with a pop, humming a pleased little purr. You completely collapse against him as he lifts his arms from you–lifting them over your head like the bars on a rollercoaster–and takes his head with him as he does. You hear a shuffle of fabric, and then an odd kind of crunch not unlike the one you heard when he first popped it off.
“Mmmmm…” He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling at your neck. As he tenderly kisses up your neck, it's good to feel his lips where you expect them to be relative to his body again. “God, I’ve been thinkin’ about that for awhile,” he says, nipping playfully at your ear.
“I can confidently say that I had never once considered that,” you say, your words half slurred. You barely feel like your own head is attached after how hard you came.
He laughs, the heat of his breath on your ear giving you goosebumps. “Think you’d do it again?” He asks, voice pitched low and wicked, but you can hear the slight edge to his voice. You’ve been with him long enough to know that he wants to know that you liked it. That you like him.
You turn to look at him over your shoulder, and you can’t help but smile. You kiss him, licking the shared taste of you both from his lips. He squeezes a little moan out of you, hugging you like he’ll never let you go.
“Yeah,” you say softly, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. Part of you is surprised you don’t feel some kind of seam. “In a heartbeat.”
#homelander x reader#homelander x you#teratophillia#monster romance#monsterlander mania#my writing#smut#ok i had a lot of fun with this one fghjkl#threw in some folklore for shits and giggles#anyways enjoy!!!#not proofread bc my adhd would rather kill me
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SPECIAL #1: Part 2 of Lobotomized AU
"Hello?" the room was dim, after Charlie's whole performance of how sinners can be redeemed she found herself inside the embassy. A little call from her Dad asking her to take the role for this years 'yearly extermination meetings'
"Hello"
Charlie winced from the sudden light that engulfed the room, her gaze adjusted to a man in a led mask, horns portruding his head, clad in white, and gold robes.
"Hi" Charlie cringed at how high pitch her voice turned, clearing her throat she started again "I'm Charlie my Dad, Lucifer Morningstar, asked me to fill in for him today"
The angel tilted his head, nodding his head and leaned forward from his chair, bringing his hand out for a shake. "Nice to meet you Lucifer's spawn"
Walking forward Chalie took the hand and shook it eagerly. The intensity caused Adam's entirely arm to follow.
Good first impression Charlie.
Done with the eager handshake Charlie settled on the chair opposite of the angel. Waiting for the angels go signal.
"Let's get started shall we?"
____
"And well, it was awful! I was like, you bitch! And I know it was mean of me but she was just really mean first y'know? . . . I guess I should've just been the bigger person. But ughh"
Charlie slumped on her seat, recalling the broadcast of promoting her hotel to Katie Killjoy and her crew. Charlie barely registered the hum from her angel companion.
Okay, She might've gotten carried away, she was just supposed to propose her hotel, but well, the guy just seemed so nice y'know? And he was! He never stopped Charlie from her endless rambling, he'd even acknowledge her words by humming or asking questions.
"That seems complicated, is there a reason why she would make fun of your hotel?"
See?
Charlie broke into a grin, really, angels are so nice, she can't believe Vaggie was getting all worked up over nothing. Clearing her throat she clapped her hands to summon papers on the table. She presented one of her drawings of sinners all holding hands.
"I broadcasted a hotel that promotes sinners being redeemed!"
Silence
More silence
Anddd more silence
"A hotel that redeems sinners?" the angel sounded intrgued, well in Charlie's opinion he sounded intrigued, maybe he's just shocked. He was holding his chin with his hand, that was obviously a sign that someone was intrigued. . . right?
Gosh she desperately needed for him not to turn his nose and laugh at her.
"Before we talk about this hotel of yours I'd like to inform you that with the recent increase in deaths on Earth, along with the deaths favoring hell, we decided to increase the Extermination in 6 months"
"What?!" the fuck
"Now, lets talk about this hotel of yours"
"Wait! 6 months? buh - but the extermination was just a week ago!"
It was too early, 6 months? What's next? 3 months? Until what? They visit everyday month? These sinners are her people, he can't just decide what to do whenever he pleases.
"The other Seraphim's in charge of this whole extermination decided this. I hope you understand that before I do anything it should be under the jurisdiction of the ones above me" the angel explained, his voice solemn
"I understand these are your people. However, there are atleast 8 billion people on Earth" to demonstrate he projected a hologram of Earth onto his palm. Charlie gasped as she watch him stream countless scenes of humans dying.
A man getting shot by the police, a woman getting murdered by a group of men, a family getting ran over by a drunk driver, each example more gruesome the last.
"There doesn't go a second where someone doesn't die. And sadly, most of them arrive at Hell's doorstep rather than Heaven"
He closed the holographic projection of Earth and the countless deaths. Returning to his neutral stance, right hand over the left, puffed chest and shoulder's squared.
Charlie took a moment to absorb the angel's words, a profound sadness and helplesness settling upon her. Before Charlie can give a rebuttal the angel raised his right hand.
"Even if you are the princess of Hell. We cannot just stop the extermination, your father himself agreed to this deal."
Charlie watched in anticipation as the man stood up, walking towards her, stopping too take one of her drawings. He silently inspected it before putting it back down.
"Lets say we stop the extermination, what then? What if no one wants to attend your hotel? What if stopping the extermination causes too much problems not only for heaven but your economy here in Hell, dont forget, sinners aren't your only priority, you have a duty to the Imps here in Pride"
Ouch
"Best case scenario, you were able to redeem a sinner, what makes you think it won't take years? This doesn't provide balance."
Charlie didn't know why, but suddenly her nose was itchy, the room was stuffy and her throat was clogging up.
____
"How was--Honey? What's wrong?"
"They decided to move the extermination to 6 months"
____
The air was heavy with anticipation, Lucifer stopped the shakiness of his hand by shaking it forcefully. Bent over, tongue poking out in concentration he failed to notice the portal that opened in his room.
"C'mon" he ground out, frustration at the brim of his fingertips
A propeller hat, mere inches away from a rubber ducks head. Just as he was about to attach it a mop of brown hair found itself on his shoulder. Startled by the unexpected presence and the weight of the head on his shoulder, Lucifer's hand froze mid-motion. He straightened up abruptly, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face the mysterious figure.
"Adam?"
"Hello"
"Wha-What are you doing here?" Lucifer asked, settling the rubber back down, facing the angel that still had his head on his shoulder. The red light from his room only made the countless piercings on teh angels face shine.
"The meeting"
The meeting?
"Didn't I send Charlie there?"
The angel just gave what Lucifer assumes is a faint smile, "Did you know she proposed a hotel to me? A hotel that redeems sinners"
The angel finally stepped away from the devil, with his powers he arranged the countless rubber ducks into a mattress, where he proceeding lay down.
The devil's eyebrows shot up in surprise. A hotel that redeems sinners? So she's still on about that.
"The idea was absurd, but I was willing to provide a compromise, sadly she ran away crying before I could propose it"
"Crying?!" Lucifer bellowed, his voice echoing with a mix of voices. His eyes blazed with fiery intensity as he locked his gaze on the angel before him. Laying on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms.
Adam, seemingly unfazed by Lucifer's outburst, turned his attention to the melting rubber ducks, his expression one of detached interest. The sight seemed to aggravate Lucifer further, struggling to contain his emotions.
"How dare you! You come at me! At my house! You made Charlie cry!" Adam's gaze shifted back to Lucifer, emotionless eyes that contradicts the angels beautiful appearance. He spoke calmly, his voice a stark contrast to Lucifer's seething anger.
"Thats why I came to you" Adam said, voice measured "as I stated, she cried before I could give her hotel a shot"
Lucifer's demonic features flickered in confusion. Adam mentally noted the recent rubber duck behind Lucifer melting from the sheer heat.
Adam continued "This is a great opportunity for you to tell your daughter that you made me, the head exorcist, watch over the hotel and it's progress for the next 6 months. No, we won't stop the extermination, but we won't target the ones inside the hotel, a simple compromise right?"
"Don't you want your daughter to trust you? This'll be a great time to prove that your a great father" Lucifer's anger simmered, his expression softening ever so slightly as he absorbed Adam's words. He eyed the countless pictures of his daughter, from her rebellious emo phase to her prom night.
The weight of Adam's words sank in, stirring a yearning within Lucifer to repair the fractured bond with his daughter. The memories served as a reminder of the love he held for her, buried beneath layers of darkness, his only light even when Lilith disappeared.
Lucifer's demon form vanished, he dragged his feet towards the angel who was still laying on the duck mattress. Adam noting this, silently moved to create space.
Unceremoniously plopping down Lucifer noted how comfy the mattress was.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Why not?"
Normally Lucifer would question that, but he was sleepy, Adam's cool body temperature mixing with Lucifer's abnormally high body temperature felt comforting. Lucifer barely registered how he took the angel by the waist and buried his face on the mans chest.
So fluffy and cold.
If Lucifer dreams hard enough he can imagine it to be Lilith.
____
1
#adamsapple#OK#SO#AS YALL PROBS NOTICED ADAM DOESNT HAVE LIKE INTERNAL MONOLUGES HERE??#But that's kinda what I want#also I've noticed that when I write I'm more of a dialogue girly#I've been trying my best to be more descriptive#I hope yall have fun with this special :3#LobotomizedAU#It's so wild that when I made this AU I only had 10 followers and now I have a hundred#I'd like to think that it's because of this AU but I know its cause of the Time travel one LMAOOO#hazbin hotel adam#lucifer morningstar
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He started it!
Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...
But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!
Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D
[~*~]
Dogday had started it.
Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out.
“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”
You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.
Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second.
That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.
Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?
“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”
Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing.
… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory.
You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.
(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)
Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.
But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.
(Yet.)
So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.
“P-please! Angel, just, please!”
No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.
His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away.
That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.
Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?
“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”
Oh well.
A pity.
Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.
See, Dogday? No sound.
He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation.
You keep going.
The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.
Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.
So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction.
“Angeel, please. Mercy!”
Awww.
(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)
(Ok. A lot.)
But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted.
Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon.
“Eek! Wait, wait!”
You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?
“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.
Oh.
(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)
Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.
(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)
You decided to return the favor.
Yes, gigglebug?
For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.
His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.
Hm.
Gigglebug?
He jolted with a yelp.
Silly giggly gigglebug?
Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.
Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?
His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.
Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.
Ah.
You see how that is.
Dogdayy ~
He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.
Well, since he was insisting so much…
You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.
His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.
Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.
You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.
You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…
Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve.
Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.
How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.
Ohoho.
So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?
You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.
Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug?
He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.
Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever?
“Sweheheart!”
Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.
Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality.
Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way.
“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.
See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly.
Actually…
You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.
You kind of missed listening to his laughter…
And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react.
Without wasting a single second, you digged.
A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.
Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.
His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.
At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.
You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand.
There is it. My beautiful smile.
He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”
Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!
Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.
The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.
(This was nice. Safe.)
Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down.
You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.
Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.
…Dogday?
“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”
You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.
Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch.
Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.
Dogday had started it.
#Ticklish!Dogday#Lee!Dogday#Ler!Reader#Ler!Player#poppy playtime tickles#poppy playtime tickling#Kanene's fic#Kanene's fanfic#DOGDAY IS A DEAR HE DESERVES TO LAUGH AND BE SILLY AND PLAYFUL AND HAPPY OK I COULDN'T HELP IT#I like to imagine that Dogday is all giggles and half pleas and protesting babbles and giddy snickers until he actually gets tickled#then he just let everything else go and start laughing non stop without a single care in the world#if i had a nickel everytime I had to be careful while describing raspberries and nibbles w a character that had trauma related to being-#well-#nibbled on but not in a tickly fun way. I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot. But it's weird that happened twice...#lkjhgfghjkolploijuh anyway!! hope you all have a nice week! take care <3#xreader#they are both incredibly silly you honor#I was writing another fic where reader and dogday find his own small smiling critter toy version and befriend it but this one will be super#-long and time is scarse so I decided to finish this playful idea here first and then try to write the other when I can#Let's see how that plays out :D
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love it when a character that's hard to read intuitively for you has like a dedicated fandom interpreter who can just glance at their blank face in a panel and then give you a 3k word essay on their innermost thoughts & desires & fears and neatly tie it back into the themes & whatnot as if it's the most obvious thing in the world
#im talking about griffith btw#guts i feel i get intuitively - maybe because i have some personality traits in common with him#and we get more about his life concretely told to us in canon. so he is a bit easier to pin down as a character and feel attached to for me#but whenever i was reading the manga i just kept wanting more insight about griffith's actions and feelings#like ok yeah its fun to have mysterious antagonists and suspense /tension etc but its also fun to feel like you deeply understand them too#and i felt like that was a bit missing from him for me in canon#so reading about him in analysis and fics is the most fun for me rn#he always felt kinda half unreal to me- which maybe was the point of him - but i wanted a bit more about his childhood or something?#and wished we had more stuff explicitly from his pov in the story to read or explanation about his transformation or wtv#and now he's so much more closed off to me even than he was in the golden age. i keep waiting for him to explain stuff and he does not#ANYWAYS all this rambling to say some people out there are very good at interpreting him and making his like. insecurities#more obvious to me bc i didnt really get that side of him from canon intuitively well#also im really enjoying reading the first few berserk fics ive read#there may not be a ton of them out there but there is def writing talent in the fandom#i'll share some recs once i'm done sifting through most of what's out there to read#also (not to tie everything back to death note but it IS my home fandom after all)#i feel griffith is obvs the more light-like character here and L maybe a bit guts-like? but unlike berserk in death note#light is the one you get to know best and L is the mysterious / unreal one you don't get a lot of concrete insight into#and in the DN fandom I can read the more mysterious character intuitively but had to warm up to the less mysterious one instead#and the mystery of L makes sense to me and doesnt bug me as much due to like - he HAS to hide a lot about himself or else he will die lol#so some similarities there but also some opposite feels as well#berserk spoilers#p
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♡ 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 ♡
𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐜𝐢𝐬!𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥: 𝘛, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.
❌️ 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵! 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘥𝘰 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵! ❌️
A/N: For @guilty-sugar , winner of my first milestone giveaway! My fellow heart pirate homie hopper asked for something soft and snuggly, so that's what you're gunna get! I love you so much my suga suga, I hope you enjoy! 💖💖💖💖💖💖
Passing through the icy, cold Seas, the Polar Tang hummed softly as she swam through the depths. It was early, too early, you thought to yourself as you shifted slightly again.
While your body was exhausted from your long shift in the boiler room, content and warm in Penguins loving arms, your brain wouldn't stop running. Over and over, thinking stupid and mundane things; you sighed softly as your eyes slowly blinked open.
Glaring at the darkness, you tried to let your eyes shut but they wouldn't, your lids snapping right back open to stare into the dark room.
"... why are you thinking so loudly?"
You winced sadly, frowning to yourself as you shuffled in your man's grasp, meeting his tired eyes.
"I'm sorry, my love," you started, only to be cut off as he moved in and kissed you, his hand moving from your side to gently hold the back of your head.
Your lids finally fell shut, a soft sigh leaving your nose as you kissed him back, curling your body into his comfortably. He pulled back after a moment and brushed his nose softly against yours, gently murmuring to you,
"Don't be sorry, my lovely Sugar… I was just teasing," His hand returned to your side and his thumb immediately began ghosting over your hip, his dark eyes watching you as you made yourself comfortable again.
"Rude," you teased back just as gently, one hand brushing back hair from his face before resting on his chest. Your smile fell slowly, and you sighed again, chewing the corner of your bottom lip as you looked back up at him.
"I just… I can't turn it off."
Penguin gave you a small smile in return, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your forehead before he replied,
"Want me to read to you? Or we could fuck? That always works," he purred, giving you a wolfish grin.
You snorted and hid a laugh behind your hand, rolling your eyes with a grin as you bit out,
"No, you horn-dog, god-"
He grinned and moved his hand up to dig his fingers into your side, pulling a laugh from you which he quickly shushed you, his grin unwavering as he replied,
"Don't insult me when I'm trying to help you, that's so cruel babe!"
Before you could respond, two upside-down heads came down from the top bunk, glaring at the both of you as Shachi snapped,
"Can you bitches be silly somewhere else?"
His partner agreed with a tired, "Yeah!"
Penguin groaned and rolled his eyes, throwing up a middle finger he didn't care if they could see or not as he responded lightly,
"Actually, no. Eat shit and ignore us."
They both gave a sound of irritation and pulled back, the top bunk creaking slightly as they settled again. You gave Penguin a shocked look, but a grin was still present. He laughed softly and pressed another kiss to the side of your head before settling down against you.
"... is there anything I can do?"
His words were so soft you almost didn't catch them, his breath toasty against your ear as his arms pulled you to him once again. You shook your head and yawned, blinking back blurry vision as you buried your face into his neck.
"You do more than enough," you breathed back, shivering slightly as his fingers danced slowly up and down your back. "I love you."
"I love you," his whisper was immediate, every ounce of love he had for you pouring into those three words. "So much."
It wasn't long until your breathing settled, a soft smile washing over Penguins face as he pressed his cheek into the side of your head. Never would he have thought that you coming onto the ship and changing the entire crew the way you had, that you would have looked at him and said, "That's the one I want."
Penguin, the Heart Pirate, the North Blue-born boy, laid next to his lover, confused how he could ever be worthy of love like this. The wondrous simplicity of it all.
He blinked tiredly as he yawned into your hair, letting his eyes finally fall shut as you began to snore softly. As always, only then would he feel safe knowing you were dreaming, hopefully of him.
He could wonder why you love him later.
#mandies mumbles ; fanfics#ok to rb#one piece#penguin op#one piece fic#penguin#penguin x reader#🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 i hope you love it my lovely suga suga 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖#i had so much fun writing this 😭😭 we love soft moments with our boys#Guilty-sugar#mandies milestone giveaways prize
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"This is a message to you, who listens. You must trust me, because we are friends. You just don't know it yet. "
(The Road to PARTIZAN 05 : Ech0 & dusk to midnight)
currently halfway through PARTIZAN (making my way towards palisade extremely slowly. see u guys there in a month or two) & this is to date my favourite intro Austin has done. what an great introduction to an extremely cool character
#Partizan#road to partizan#friends at the table#fatt#gur sevraq#ive been wanting to draw something for that intro ever since i first heard it but i didnt. even know who gur sevraq was at that point.#but its been On My Mind#rosa art#im fairly happy with this i had a lot of fun coming up w the composition. it felt like a puzzle bc i knew what i wanted...#the lineless artstyle is something ive been trying out more and it doesnt come easy but it is fun. (so many layers.....)#you can zoom in for details because. ofthe person i am i always have to add little lines everywhere#well i usually write kind of a lot in the tags but ive been drawing for 5 hours nonstop. my brains kind of wiped.#i havent taken my walk yet so. i will now do that#...usually id listen to more partizan but millenium break is. literally not relaxing and i need to chill a bit#might put on the new bluff.#oh one more thing every time i relisten to that intro i do a little ME? gesture i hear that first line. its fun to me#edit: ok i moved the text slightly it was bothering me !#probably noone else will notice.
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I Now Pronounce You Allergic (LSSR)
Yeahhh I FINALLY FINISHED IT!! I'm sorry it took forever but IT'S WORTH IT! Ahem...please enjoy Ren and Sasha's first totally-not-a-date where they BOTH find themselves allergic to the flowers at their friends' wedding--and then proceed to have a holdback challenge. Spice warning, yes there is snzfucking!
Skye helps me put the finishing touches on my makeup. I line my lids with blue and pink and a bold purple.
“Is bi pride appropriate for a lesbian wedding?”
Skye laughs. “Abby won’t care. Kadie,” she trails off, “Who knows with her these days.” Skye clasps hands under her chin and coos. “You look gorgeous.”
Skye helped me pick out a subtly sexy midnight blue dress that I’d been eyeing for weeks but didn’t think I could pull off. It cups my skin so tight it’s like an aura as opposed to a dress.
“How many times have you reassured me about clothes?” Skye’s hand flicks toward my ass--I love the way my ass looks in this dress.
I pair the dress with silver earrings and bracelet. A purple bandana wraps my hair, the bulk of it gathered in a neat bun at the back.
Skye’s face illuminates as she scrolls through her phone. “Ren’s almost here.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely. I’m not wanted there--too much history--and! Leo has tickets to Excalion! I’d honestly rather be there.”
“Than your friends’ wedding??”
Skye’s brows rise, “Than an ex’s wedding who can’t stand me? Yes.”
“Fair point.”
Ren picks me up ten minutes later. He’s dressed not unlike he does when he goes to work. Suit, tie, vest, but…is that glitter on his cheek? Skye and I share a look and I see that ‘he’s so adorable’ look on her face.
The venue is big--bigger than I expected from what Ren’s told me about one of the brides. Wide pillars, an archway the size of twelve Rens, marble fucking floors?? Who needs that??
Ren leads me inside and noise surrounds us, people chatting and laughing. I’m swallowed by sound and scents and--
My body turns to iron and I stop walking. Ren startles and looks at me with confusion. But my eyes are fixed on the tables. The tables with bright, purple, bushy…flowers. A very specific flower.
“Ah,” Ren hums as if it makes complete sense. “Yes, I was afraid of this.”
I stare at the offensive flowers. If looks could shank you in a back alley, those flowers would be a crime scene. My lips pinch. The chatter around me numbs to a dull hum. Everything loses focus.
The flowers start to warble and blur behind a saline lens. My sight is compromised. My nose sucks all of the energy out of my other senses. As if it’s putting on a damn light show.
I feel my lip twitch. I hone in on the tickle--the wretched sensation that’s going to ruin this whole experience. My lips form a crescent scrunch and I hear myself growl.
“Ahm…” Ren leans next to me. “Sasha?” he tips his head down to look at me and I jerk to the side. “Are you scrunching your nose?”
“No,” I say, but it comes out all congested and 100% unconvincing.
Ren lifts his brows. “Hm. I see.”
“Hxsh-T!”
His head snaps toward me as I recover and I feel my bones shrink. Fuck. I shoot him a don’t say a word look and he clamps his lips shut. “No. You saw nothing.” I refuse to let this be a thing. Even though, as we head toward our table, I find it overflowing with the atrocious bouquet and--
“Hyk-TSH-iah!” I snuffle and wipe my eyes with my fingers. Ren hands me a cloth napkin and I try not to glare at him as if this is his fault.
We’re seated at a four-person table and across from us are two other people. One of them is a very tall, very burly woman who could be on the cover of a weight lifting magazine. Her slinky copper hair is fluffed at the top and pulled into an amalgamation of a ponytail-slash-braid. I can’t imagine an actual salon doing that to her, so it was probably a homemade hair concoction.
The man she’s seated next to is…significantly smaller. Like, he looks so thin, I’m pretty sure a medium-sized breeze would knock him over. His wrists are bony and I think I see a purple bruise in the crook of his elbow. He also has a cloud of red curls and a matching spray of freckles dotting his face like the woman does.
I feel my nose threatening to misbehave again and I instinctively look for the champagne. There’s a glass in front of me next to a sheet of paper for each table setting. I inspect it closer and my stomach flips.
It’s a bingo sheet. There are things like ‘brides kiss without prompt’, ‘Anne talks about her beanie babies’, and--
“Ren sneezes during the best man speech?” the burly woman blurts in a thick drawl. A throaty cackle burst from her, not unlike that of a hyena. “Do you see this, Ikka?” she prods at the text, nudging the man next to her.
“Please, Iris,” His voice is rich and dull at the same time, accent a strange twang, as if he spent time in the UK and Texas, but not enough to fully form either accent.
“It’s just funny, right?” her cheeks dimple with a grin. Her voice is raw and boisterous as if she really is finding everything hilarious.
My eyes fall back onto the phrase: Ren sneezes during the best man speech. It’s right up top. What..the…heck, vanillas?
As if on cue, I hear the raspy intake of air right next to me. And the table jolts as Ren’s knees knock into it at the same time he jerks into a rigid, “HxSZg!”
I flush and can’t help my eyes rounding. Oh gods…him too??
He flashes me a sheepish look and rakes a finger against his nose. “I think we will get at least one point.”
I snort, “You did not…”
Another keening cackle from the lady across the table. “Oh shit, Ikka! That’s him,” she gyrates her wrist toward Ren. She props her chin on her upturned palm. “Tell me, Ren,” she says with a mixture of mischief and amusement, “Do you sneeze a lot?”
The man next to her groans and rolls his eyes. “I am so sorry,” he says to Ren. “She thinks she’s hilarious.”
“Well, I am, ain’t I?”
“Ren!” a floaty voice perks us all up and I see one of the brides hurrying toward us. Her brown hair is braided in a ring around her face and her cheeks are sunny and dimpled.
“Abigail,” Ren stands and lets her scrunch him with a hug. She pulls back and takes his hands, brimming with joy. “I’m so glad you made it! Gosh! I was worried people wouldn’t come because there’s no ceremony but--Ah! Is that your…date?” her eyes flick to me.
Ren gestures to me, “This is Sasha--Skye’s girlfriend. She is indeed in attendance with me.”
Abigail’s lips form a ring, “Oh, I see. Yeah, I’m so sorry about Skye, but,” she laughs awkwardly, “you know how Kadie is.” A knowing eye roll as her pink lips pucker.
Ren pats her hand, still attached to the V of his suit. “All is well. Skye is with our boyfriend Leo, seeing a concert.”
Abigail laughs uneasily. “Oh, well, good.” Her gaze warms. “I hope you have a good speech prepared. Kadie thinks you could get AI to write it and it would sound exactly like you.”
“I assure you, I did no such thing.”
My face is so tingly right now and I wish Abby would just leave so I can escape to the--
“SS-Ktsh!” I immediately shudder, arms wrapping around my midsection as I tuck my chin into my collar. Oh if I thought one was going to be enough--”Hit’SHKkk!” I was a fool. “Hax-SHIEU!”
“Oh,” Abigail trails fingers over her chest. “Are you okay?”
I nod, eyes still squeezed shut, free hand roaming the table for the--
Cloth presses into my palm and I feel the brush of Ren’s fingers. “She is well, I assure you. We seem to be experiencing similar issues with,” he gestures to the bouquets.
“Oh my gosh--I’m so sorry!” Abby coos. “Seriously, Kadie insisted, even though I said you were allergic. She was like, ‘he can just take a benadryl’ and I was--”
“It is quite alright, Abby. We are fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I think my grandma has Claritin?”
I perk up, “C or D?”
“Uhh, I’m not sure but you could go ask her,” Abigail points to an elderly woman seated next to the bar, with an oxygen tank next to her.
“Uhhh, maybe,” I lie. I’m definitely not sneezing enough to beg an old woman for allergy pills. It’d be just my luck to get her talking about her own allergy journey. I swear anyone over 60 loves to talk about the pollen count. Ydjjjehhhh...my teeth chatter involuntarily.
“Well, just let us know if you need anything!” Abby trills and floats away waving her fingers as if she’s boarding a plane.
I use the cloth to wipe my eyes again and blow out a frustrated breath.
“Sasha…”
I tip my eyes to Ren who looks nothing but concerned.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
I sniff, shunting my gaze.
“Please, be truthful.”
I puff. “Yeah, I am.”
“Then we shall leave.”
My shoulders lock. “What! No! These people are your friends! You’re the best man!”
Ren leans down, leveling his liquid blue eyes with mine.
“Sasha, out of everyone here, you are my priority.”
I flush, my heart thrumming through my chest and neck.
“Are you able to handle it?”
I twist the cloth between my fingers, “I don’t know.”
Ren leans over the table, facing to the side so all I see is the apex of his jaw. But he does that single-knuckle rub motion that always always leads to--
*snf* “Hh…”
I slam my eyes shut and do my best to think of banjo music.
“Hg-gk…hh-hih!”
And…he stops. His parted lips close. He exhales. Sniffles. Looks at his phone and scrolls like nothing happened.
I gape at him, my stomach flipping with butterflies. “Seriously?” I snap loud enough for the other table to turn their heads.
Ren looks at me, flabbergasted. “Was that wrong?”
“Yes!”
“So, I should have just…let it happen?”
“No!”
“Then…” Ren lifts his hands in a shrugging motion. I groan, burying my face in my hands, using it as an excuse to rub my own itchy nose with my palms.
“Hmm…” Ren taps a pen on a piece of paper. He spins it around and scribbles on it.
Ren 1 Sasha 5
I peer at it, then him, eyes lidded with suspicion. “What the hell is this?”
“A game.”
“A game?”
Ren leans back, “Whoever sneezes the most loses.”
My brows shoot up. “Are you joking?”
“Not particularly.”
I drop back down to the paper. I feel a buzzing in my limbs, as if I’m preparing for a marathon. It feels…exciting? Oh fuck it. My lips tick up and energy rushes through me.
“You’re on, Grayson.”
He smirks.
Ren eyes my champagne glass and points a slender finger. “Do you need another?”
I frown at him, “Will you be okay if I…”
Ren softens. “I will be fine, Sasha. I have been sober for a while now. I am capable of restraint.”
I nod, “Then sure. But grab some strawberries too. And apples! And maybe…”
Snickers from across the table. I look over to see the fitness model laughing. She sees me looking and smiles, wide and warm. “Y’all are so cute!”
I blush and turn to Ren but he’s already standing to leave for the food table.
“Um,” I wrinkle my napkin and clear my throat, “So, how do you know the brides?”
She continues to smile, “I don’t.”
I pause, waiting but she doesn’t continue.
“Alright, then your date does?”
She bursts into snorts of laughter, wide hands cupping her angular mouth, “Ikka,” she uses her elbow to nudge him and I hear him let out a tiny whine, “she thinks you’re my date.”
His lips crimp in amusement. “So did that other woman--the elderly one.”
My head spins like I’m being exorcized, “Wh-where?”
“The lady,” he points to a plump graying woman currently a table away, scolding people there for something. Her hair is a curly swoop over her brow and I see at least four crosses on her ears and necklace.
“Maybe we should play along,” the man, Ikka, says. “I don’t want to explain how we’re related.”
“We don’t have to go into detail, just tell her we’re half siblings.”
He drains his glass and rolls his eyes, “So she can ask why? No thanks.”
My ears prickle when I hear the so obvious sound my brain is fucking attuned for: hitching breaths. My eyes trail the room, searching, but I hear it before I see anything.
“HkXGn! H-Gk’dsz!”
It’s quiet, so miniscule I’m sure there are people at the buffet who didn’t even hear it. But I did.
When Ren arrives and deposits the drink and plate, my lips quirk up, “Two points for you.”
He looks alarmed, “You heard those?”
A laugh bubbles in my throat, “I could hear them from another room, Lawrence.”
I hear the braying laugh as the burly woman claps her hands together. “I think Kadie did the seating, Kah!”
“Iris, don’t fucking start--”
My left eye twitches. Apparently there’s wedding drama here that I want nothing to do with. I decide right then: I’m sticking to a small ceremony if I get married.
Ren passes me a plate of fruits, “I was not certain if you wanted red or blackberries, so I took both.”
Iris’s pitched voice calls, “Why do you talk like that?” She’s looking at Ren and my heart sinks.
Ren’s cheeks harden, lines appearing on his forehead. A flare of familiar anger sparks in his eyes as his voice sharpens. “I speak this way so I do not speak,” his chin tips at her, “that way.”
My hand flies out to smack his, “Ren! That was extremely rude!”
He buries his lips in his teeth, eyes shiny from chagrin. He sighs, brushing a thumb across his glass, leaving a scar of condensation behind, “I apologize,” he says to the woman.
To her credit, she just shrugs and resumes talking to her…brother? But I’m indignant for her. I glare at Ren and frown. “Ren, I get that you have trauma about your accent, but not everyone felt the need to change theirs. Don’t be a jerk.”
Ren nods, “Yes. You are absolutely correct.”
I nod and feel better. I was hoping that wouldn’t turn into an argument. I eat some of my strawberries and the sugar rush makes me kind of giddy. Until I forget where I am and take too big of a breath through my nose.
My synapses light up and I taste panic hot on my tongue. I’m already tearing up, moisture running down my cheeks. My makeup I worked so hard on is smudging. Fuck. I fumble in my purse for clean tissues but I come up empty. What the hell? I always bring a pack everywhere. Whatever. Lost cause.
I squeeze my fingers around my necklace to stop it from flopping but, “Hih-XSShh-ieh!” the sneeze rocks my neck, my shoulders. My chin yanks and my hand snaps the metal, the silver chain pooling around my wrist like a liquid snake.
“Fuck!” I snarl but I’m not done, “Adj’SK!!” I sneeze viciously into the hand holding the chain, feeling the tang of iron on my lips. This can not get any worse.
I throw myself to my feet, fingers steepled over my nose. Tears blur my vision as hitches flutter against my tongue, “Hhh-ieh! IEH!” My feet fly over the ground, carrying me so fast I stumble. At the same time I’m careening toward the ground, my lips sputter, “Hiex-SHIEEw- UGH!”
Strong hands wrap around my shoulders and pull me straight up to a standing position so that I’m no longer about to flatten my nose on the tile. I blink away allergic tears as Iris beams at me. She doesn’t seem put off by my splotched, wet face at all.
“You okay, sweetie?”
I mutter something unintelligible and then cough. “Uhm, kh, yes. I-I’m good. Thank you.”
“No problem, doll. Can I escort you to the bathroom?”
“Oh, no I can get there fine.”
“I’m on the way myself, but I’ll wait if you need privacy.”
My wrists wag left and right, “Oh, no it’s fine!” My people pleasing ass overrides the need to be alone. “We can both go.”
I let Iris lead the way into the restroom where she takes a stall and I use the mirror to clean up. When she comes out of the stall I'm blowing my nose and apologizing every time I sniffle.
“Ikka gets sick a lot--snot don’t bother me,” she says as she washes her hands.
I titter with her but there’s no way I can explain my special brand of embarrassment. So I take some soft purple tissues and blow my nose. But just when I get it clear, the fire reignites, sending me spilling back into the fluff.
“Ha-XSSH! Iee’TSHH-ieu! EiSHH!” I snort thickly, “Agh, whad the fugk?”
Iris rorars a laugh and swipes the napkins, “Yall must be allergic to lavender.”
“Uh,” I sniffle, “Yeah. W--” I point at the cloth, “Are those…”
“Lavender scented,” her eyes shimmer with amusement and I flame bright. “Man,” she chuckles, stuffing the soggy tissues in the trash hole, “They really had it out for you two didn’t they?”
I groan and flick on the faucet. “Seems so.”
“I can ask Ikka for unscented ones. He usually has some.”
I shake my head, “No-no, that’s okay, I…” I scrunch my nose and clamp my hands over my face. “I just need…a minute….”
Iris pops a shoulder, “Alright. Well, good luck.” She swaggers out of the bathroom, leaving me to my mess. I clean up as best I can and fix my makeup, spraying a setting liquid over it once I’m done.
It’s been quite a while and I turn to head back, but the drinks swirl in my head and I pause. My eyes land on the stack of lavender tissues.
I don’t think too hard about it, but I find myself stuffing a few into my purse before fleeing the scene.
When I get out of the restroom, I hear people calling “Toast! Toast!” and I see Ren standing up with a flute of sparkling water.
I risk a glance at him staring smugly at me as he crosses the room, a cocky grin on his face.. He lifts a finger in the air and tapped the side of his nose before holding up 4 fingers.
Oh. It’s fucking on.
I hurry to pass Ren him on my way to the table, digging in my bag.
“You’ll need these,” I don't meet his eyes as I stuff the tissues in his hand. I scurry away, shame leaving a hot trail behind me. I don't know why I did that--why did I do that?? I’m a godsdammed cheater, that’s why.
I sit and watch as innocently as i possibly can. Ren stands iron straight at the front of the room, but his expression is soft, eyes twinkling in the chandelier lights. He addresses everyone and gestures to the brides on either side of him.
“I met Kadie in college. We were good friends. She was always keeping me in line.”
A knowing chuckle hums across the room. An inside joke. Ren holds his arm toward, “Abigail let me crash on her couch for most of my young adult life.”
“Me and Leo,” she quips.
“Touche”. Ren lowers his voice for dramatic effect. “She had to kick me out quite often once she met Kadie.”
A ruckus of laughter at that. Abigail blushes but Kadie takes her hand, amused. Ren knows what he’s doing. Playing the crowd. Like a good DM. He begins the next phase of his speech but I can hear the hints of congestion stirring his words into a thicker drawl.
A few people have their bingo cards ready. I’d be lying if I wasn’t thinking about it. Ren pauses mid-word, breath ragged, fumbling in his pocket.
“Apologies,” he croaks, “It s-hhh…seems you shall--snf! Have a bingo point af--” he folds one of the tissues over his nose, “Hk’TZZHHH!”
“Ikka,” the woman at our table rasps, “Quit staring and mark it down!”
My brain pushes their convo aside. I watch Ren’s nose, his chin. Bobbing up and down with each hitch, inhale, sigh. Eyes lock onto him as if his hypnotic buildup has charmed the snakes of the show.
“Hnng…” the silence in the room is as solid as a truck. I can’t speak for anyone beyond my line of sight but my entire table is watching him intently. Seriously, why are they watching so hard? Do vanillas just--
“Wait,” Iris points from me to the bathroom tissues. “Did you--”
I slam back my glass of champagne, ignoring the question.
“XsST-hieu!! EGSX-EIU!” Ren siffles thickly and dabs his nose but that’s only making it worse.
Seven.
I lift up, ready to fly to his defense, but Ren crumples the tissue with a sorrowful sniffle and tucks the pack into his breast pocket to finish the speech.
“My apologies. Or, perhaps not?” Ren draws another laugh from the crowd.
Iris smacks the bingo sheet, “Focus, Icabod! We’re close to winning!”
Okay. I’m getting kind of sus here. Maybe I’m just in fet brain overdrive but I have to know. Ren finishes his speech and ambles toward us, flicking tears from his watery eyes and slumps into the chair with a groaning sigh.
“Ren,” I rasp when I’m safely close enough to him to prevent being heard from the others. “Hey!” I wrap my fingers around his tie and pull his neck down so I can speak with him. And wow this actually is hot. No wonder Skye does it so much. I wobble a little and ohhh gods I'm getting drunk.
I release him once he’s nice and close and whisper, “Rub your nose.”
He jerks back, “What?!”
I groan, rolling my head, “Not like that. It’s…it’s for science.”
Ren follows my gaze to Icabod and he hums, “Ah.” He tips his head down and sniffles. He brushes the underside of his nose, slow and deliberate. His eyes flutter and he lets out an exaggerated gasp.
“Igh!! Hiiegh…”
I stare open mouthed for way too long. Christ he’s good at this. I’m about to just let him attempt a fake before I remember there was a point to this.
I sneak a look at Icabod and… our expressions could have matched 100%. He might even be drooling. Not that I blame him. Rens still going, toying around with teasing hitches and soft gasps. Gods what must that be like in bed?
WHAT? I have clearly had too much champagne.
I sneak another look at Icabod to see him staring intently at his fork. And his eyes flick toward Ren. And back to the fork.
I am floored. The odds are insane. But I do know those two are friends of Skye. Or aquaintances. Maybe I’m not the only person she’s met online…
Two claps bring our attention to the floor and Ren stops his fake buildup in milliseconds with a soft breath and a quick nose swipe. The man should be an actor.
“Alright everyone, we’re having a freeze dance competition. Now, pick your partners, and dance! When we blow the whistle, you’re gonna freeze! Don’t. Move. Any movement, intentional or not, will disqualify you for the prize.”
“What’s the prize?” I ask.
Ren glides up next to me, knuckling his nose, “I do not think it will matter.”
I open my mouth to ask him why, but that’s a dumb question. His watery eyes and the buzzing of my own nostrils I’m desperately trying to ignore would destroy us both.
“Maybe it’s for the best we sit out. I can’t even dance.”
Ren looks astounded. “You cannot dance?”
“I…no. Not like…ballroom dancing.”
“Then,” he holds out a hand, “I shall teach you.”
I pause. Dancing is Skye and Ren’s thing. I feel like this would be an intrusion of their sacred custom. But Ren waggles his fingers as if groping for my hand. “Skye will not mind.”
How does he read me like that?
He takes me by the hand and pulls me immediately into a spin. I’ve seen him and Skye do this enough that I don’t stumble. I may not have participated before, but I’m far from a dance virgin.
We dance the intro of the song for a couple minutes, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. I feel so dashing in my sexy dress, tearing up the floor like this.
Ren cradles my back, hands strong and gentle as he dips me low. My head tilts back and I’m overwhelmed by the scratchy scent of lavender. A busboy passes by carrying another bouquet. I jacknife upright, palm flattening my lips and nose as two very not stealthy sneezes wrench my spine, “Hiex-SHEW! HAAh-TSHHieu!”
Ren lifts me and swirls us, dancing uninterrupted. I gulp air and glower, “That was cheating!”
“It is not cheating. I am within the boundaries of the rules we set.”
“We didn’t set any rules!”
Ren smirks knowingly. I honestly have no room to complain though. I cheated first.
“Freeze!” the voice rocks adrenaline into my veins and we both instinctively still. Ren’s hands are on the small of my back and propped on my hip; my arms are draped over his shoulders, one palm spread behind his neck.
It feels so intimate. And…I swallow, my body reacting to him already.
It’s about to get much more intimate.
His face is flushed so pink I’d think he was drunk. His teeth grind and he snarls a hitch. “Sasha,” his breath is hot and moist, barely audible but bold enough to send wracking shivers down my spine. “I am not…going to last…”
Oh gods. He did not just say that.
Abigail moves toward us. Fuck fuck! What are we going to do? Ren’s nose scrunching isn’t doing the trick, and if he sneezes on me, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.
His fingers tighten on my waist as he sucks in a breath, and I make a decision. My hand sweeps from his neck across his cheek, his skin hot as a brand, and my fingers close over his firm nostrils.
He exhales, relief shuddering through him, and I swear I absorb that shudder and feel it quaking my thighs.
I’m. Grabbing. Ren’s. Nose. I’m grabbing Ren’s nose! In public! What the fuck am I thinking??
I could tell myself that I just want to win--that’s all this is. But I’ve been lying to myself for too long. I don’t give a flying fuck if we win this game. I wanted to touch him. To feel his nostrils twitch under my grip, his breath bathe my wrist--oh gods. My body is a livewire. I’m worried I’m going to vibrate myself off the dance floor.
“Sasha,” he grunts, “you may release me.”
Electricity zings through my arm and I snatch my hand away as if burned.
Ren’s eyes glitter and his mouth curves, “That rather turned you on.”
“And I think that rather turns you on.” My bold comment comes out of nowhere.
The corner of his lip ticks up, “Of course.”
I didn’t think I could burn hotter but my blood feels ten times heavier.
Asshole. Is he just picking at me like friendly banter…or does he…want me?
This isn’t the first time we’ve flirted with each other. Over the course of all our friendships, the on-off-on-off of all fucking four of us…it’s godsdamn exhausting. And it’s wearing me down--physically and emotionally.
Ren looks at me with those concerned furrowed brows. I want him to say the same thing. The same thing I’m thinking, feeling. I…I want…
A clap brings us out of the sexual deviancy of the moment and Abigail calls, “That’s a wrap!”
Abby glides toward us and squees. “You two were precious!” she trills.
“Did we--”
“You didn't win,” she frowns.
“Erm, no, I know. But,” I fidget, coiling and uncoiling my fingers. “Did we embarrass ourselves?”
Abby chuckles. “Not at all. The other competitors were thrilled--” Abby poked Ren’s nose affectionately making his nostrils flare a bright pink. Why did that make me jealous?
Ren steps forward, leading Abby as she chats about ….
“Please just do this one thing for me, please!”
“W-what thing?”
“The entire guest list has been taking photo booth pics so we can scrapbook it all vintage like. Will yall participate?” Abby begs.
Ren’s lips twist. “Alright. Of course. For you.”
With a squeal from Abby, we are ushered into a long hall, wider than average. It’s filled with nostalgic photos of celebrities like Elvis, The Beatles…is that Shirley Temple?? Did they even have photo booths back then? Oh gods, this whole fucking hallway is a beacon for how bad I am at history.
In a misshapen nook sits a photo booth. A fancy one--it has a door and everything. Wow. Kadie went all out with this reception. I’m assuming she wanted to wow her guests to make up for having to univite them to the actual ceremony in 2020.
With some nudging, Abigail watches us climb in and shoots me a thumbs up. “I gotta go kiss ass to my mother in law but it’s pretty self explanatory. Take some funny ones! I’m making a scrapbook!”
Ren is already inside and when I climb in, I find it more spacious than I expected, but not enough for us to sit side-by-side. I may have a smaller waist, but Ren has bulk in his thighs and shoulders that just won’t work.
“Well,” I say, “I guess I’ll sit on your leg, if that’s ok.”
Ren nods and shifts so I can perch near his knee, pulling my dress down in a habitual need to unbunch my clothes. I slide over his leg and catch myself when his fingers curl around my hips to steady me.
“Is this alright?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I resume shifting. We look at the screen in front of us and I squint, searching for the switch to activate it. “Where…” we start fussing around, both seeking the mechanism but coming up empty.
I groan, “Why is something so vintage so hard for us to figure out?” I feel the edge of anger on my tongue, “It’s so different from every phone booth I’ve used.”
“As opposed to the many phone booths you’ve been in?”
“I was young once, Ren. In the 90s. So, yes.”
“Hm,” he chuckles. “Were they…” the word drops, thickening with dull congestion that makes my spine straighten like a steel rod. I jerk to the side, putting the shadows of his jawline in my peripheral.
“Are you…” I swallow a desert in my mouth.
He rubs a lip under his teeth, “Would it be better for me to say yes, or no?”
“What does that mean?”
“It m-means…” his words begin to stumble, “If denying I am not hhh--” his long fingers climb to his face, sawing languidly under his nose.
“Worse.”
“Then, my nose itches and I hhh--believe I might--hh-igh…sneeze.”
I flush hot and oh, I was wrong. That phrase was so much worse. Better. Augh I am absolutely incapable of untangling the mess of emotions flooding me like a rainstorm. I feel myself squirm, the photo switch forgotten in lieu of, “Ren…”
I feel his hand on my hip tightening--exactly the same way it did on the dance floor. Oh gods…if there was any doubt, it’s gone: flung out the window.
He’s going to sneeze. I’m on his lap. Fuuuuuck.
“Ren,” I feel my throat grate against his name, “I should go, I--”
“I will be fine,” he sniffles and his head does a small shake that makes my spine melt. His voice is honey, “It’ll pass.”
A contraction. He’s really fucking trying.
“Uhh, I don’t think it will,” I say flatly.
“I can…handle it. Trust me.”
“Trust me,” I wiggle to stand but my knees tangle and I end up slipping back, falling into him. His hands wind around my middle, one thumb skimming the slit decorating my hip.
“Ah-apologies, I--”
I should try to get up again. I know I should. But his grip is firm, steady, as if I’m his anchor in a storm. I hear him sniffle right in my ear and gods I shiver from head to toe. It makes my shoulders wring, my stomach thrum, and my thighs…
I hear him gasp and feel his hips rock forward. He lets out a small moan and I realize I’ve squirmed myself to the ridges of his lap. And Oh. Fuck, this fabric must be so thin because I can feel exactly how my arousal is affecting him.
“Hh-ieh--” He squeezes my body so hard a small gasp flees my throat.
“Mmmmhh--!” there is no way the sounds I’m making are even remotely adjacent to ‘stop doing that please’. My body is in camp sneeze right now.
“Hhh-ngh, Sahh…” His breaths come in grinding gasps and I’m not sure anymore if it’s from holding back the sneeze or my ass rubbing against his cock.
I’m too hot for this. I’m too horny for this. The unbelievable tension and teasing of the night all crashes into me in frantic, thought-erasing need.
I can’t remember why this is a bad idea. I can’t remember that we’re in a public fucking place, in the middle of a wedding reception and it’s Not A Good Time. My panties are slick and wet, and I do more than wiggle--I writhe. Noises escape me in high pitches half breaths, matching his liquid gasps escaping his tilted mouth.
“Hhh-iehh--HEh!”
I could stop this. I could get up. I could launch myself out of this photo booth as if I were a champagne cork and Ren wouldn’t stop me. But I don’t want to stop.
My back arches when I feel his head dip far enough for his nose to feather the skin of my neck. Oh fuck ohfuckohfuck-- My senses narrow to that spot, everything dulling around me as his lips pop apart, still buried in my neck, and--
“HGX-SHHZ!”
Pleasure explodes inside of me. My body bucks and I ride him, rubbing myself back and forth over his trapped cock in a rocking motion.
“Hieh--”
“Oh fucking gods!”
“HY-ESHHUUU!”
My orgasm unleashes, wracking my body, lighting every nerve inside me, pulling closed-lipped moans from my throat. “Mmmnn-gods fuck MMMNnnn!” My hands are clawing and scrunching any fabric they can get at--from the folds of my dress to Ren’s taut pants. He moans against me and I hear him swear, “F--uck…”
My body collapses against him and I suck in air, my chest pulsing in time with my labia. He’s still hard against me, fingers delicate but firm as he sniffles thick and wet.
“S-Sasha,” he grunts, “I…”
“Oh my gods.” My heartbeat turns from pounding to racing.
We just dry humped in a wedding photo booth!
My hands slap my face. “What the fuck am I doing?” Gods, I must be so--
“Sasha,” Ren’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “If you permit me to leave first--”
“No,” I say quickly, tugging my bra strap back in place and smoothing my wrinkled bandana. “Anyone who overheard just heard me m-moaning and…you, uhh…”
“Sneezing?”
“Y-yeah. But that could have been me, and…”
Ren concedes, though he doesn’t look convinced. “As you wish.”
I don’t need him to believe me, I just need to get out of here. Now.
Hoping my makeup made it out unscathed, I crawl out, opening the door--thank gods there’s a door--and sliding out, eyes darting around to see if anyone is nearby.
“Hey there.”
I freeze, my entire body jolting with panicked adrenaline. I turn to see Kadie staring at me, arms folded over her wide bosom, lips askew. Sparks in her sage eyes.
I flap my hands nervously, “I was just--”
“I know what you were doing.” Her voice is firm but there’s a hint of a roguish gleam.
My blood ices. “No, you don’t understand.”
She silences me with an upturned palm. “You do know I dated Skye, right?”
My jaw unhinges. Of course. Of fucking course she knows. She could probably see it all over my face all godsdamn day.
My hands close over my face, “Oh my fuck,” I muffle.
Kadie sighs, a heaving breath, “Look, I really don’t give two shits what you did in there. But I’d better not have to clean anything up.” At my alarm, she pressed the air with her hand, “Chill. No one else knows, or heard you. Just me.” She hands me a slim rectangle of paper. “Maybe watch the switch next time. You’re lucky I was here.”
She whirls and leaves me clutching three stacked images--muted and gray but there’s no doubting what’s going on in there. If I focus, I can see my O-face. IeeHHGGG.
I crumple the pictures as Ren climbs out, brushing wrinkles from his suit. “What happened?” he asks.
I look at him, “Kadie heard us. And…saw…” I crunch the photos again for good measure.
“I see.” Ren rakes a forked hand through his hair and it flops back over his brow with enviable ease. “Perhaps then, it is an opportune time to--”
“Bail?” I snort, “Sorry, I shouldn’t…”
“Yes. Bail.”
My chin juts up at him in confusion.
We make it out without being noticed. Ren even finds us a bathroom on the other end of the building to freshen up. I make sure to slather myself in deodorant. Everywhere. Yes, even my stomach and thighs. My underwear didn’t make it out unscathed. I pull my track pants out of my bag and go commando.
I have a tube top as well and I trade it for the dress. Now I look like I’m about to go to yoga but at least I don’t look like I just snzfucked a guy in a photo booth.
In the hall, Ren is still wearing his suit. “You didn’t bring extra clothes?”
He pats his vest in various places as if to say and where would I put them?
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m ready to get--HXST-Ieh! Out of here.” I grind my palm over my nose, furious it hasn’t finished with me yet.
Ren opens his palm and offers it to me. “As you wish. However, I have one more stop to make.”
We hurry toward the exit, not encountering any obstacles before we burst out into the windy air like a prison break. Ren and I lock eyes and let out twin snorts.
“I’m impressed you kept your erection during that whole fit,” I giggle.
“Years with Skye has tempered me. At this point I find myself sporting a partial even when I start to…”
Oh fuck that’s hot.
I drink in the crisp air, hoping it’ll cool me off. I breathe deep and we head toward the car.
We’re still sniffly on the drive. Allergy aftermath can last hours if you marinate long enough. Ren drives us to a strip center just downtown. He parks at a meter right outside, “A book store?” I drink in the cottagecore awning and the chalkboard sign announcing an author signing.
An author I know.
Anita Maez?!
Ren looks at me, smiling. Not smirking. Not grinning. Just…smiling.
“Your ticket is anonymous,” he says, “If you do not wish to enter, no one will know you withdrew.”
My eyes are wide and I feel my heart set up camp in my throat. “Ren…” I swallow through the thickness. He remembered my favorite fucking author and made a point to buy me a ticket to meet her??
He hands me the ticket and I take it, unable to tear my eyes away from it. I virtually stumble toward the building, only pausing to look at Ren to make sure he’s really okay with this. He nods and waits outside to give me privacy.
In line, I can’t stop thinking about Ren. The lengths he went for me today. For me. My brain is a bonfire. It’s becoming very hard to not look for meaning in tonight. Ren, making up a game for us so I don’t freak out sneezing in public. Making sure I was comfortable the whole time with all of the weird conversations. How utterly safe I felt in that booth with him. I’ve only felt that safe with Skye and Leo.
And now this.
Is he doing these things for me because we’re friends? Or is this just Ren being…Ren? I realize I don’t know, really. I know him as a friend. As Skye’s lover. As Leo’s primary. But I can’t tell if he wants us to be closer or if he just does this kind of thing.
I send a quick text to Skye, but then it’s my turn for the meet and greet, and I shove all those thoughts aside to meet my hero.
Ren isn’t outside the shop when I exit but I peg his location instantly. He’s down the sidewalk near a corner, sneezing his head off.
I start counting, unable to help myself from lining my footsteps with each sneeze. He stops, finally, and sniffles, patting his nostrils with a purple tissue--oh. Those tissues.
I rush over and snatch it from him, earning me a bewildered look between sniffles. “What--”
“Those are lavender scented,” I flush at his expression. “They’re…causing more problems than solving.”
Ren chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, that does explain quite a lot.”
I pop my hip and place a hand on it, “So, what are we at?” I tease. “After your whole,” I fan my fingers around his face.
“Mmm. Seven. But as we are not specifically at the venue, they do not count.”
“Um, they absolutely count, Grayson. We didn’t set any rules, remember?”
He has the gall to look defeated right before he tips his head in a bow. “Very well. The final count is?”
“Me with 13, you with,” I grin smarmily, “16.”
“Hm,” he hums. “Would it be a stretch to say your author signing is your prize?”
“Fuck no. First, you had that planned before the game started. Second, I didn’t ask for it, third…” I stop ticking my fingers when I see the mischievous look on his face. The streetlamps have caught his eyes so they look like they’re dancing. And he’s somehow maneuvered his arm above his head, propping himself into one of those ‘hot boy’ movie leans the lead love interest always does.
I bite back a snort. Is he flirting? Is he doing the sexy man pose on purpose?
“What, Sasha, would you like your prize to be?”
I want to laugh and cry and tell him he looks silly and obvious. That he’s not as sexy as he thinks he is. Even if it’s a godsdamn lie. He would have won if I hadn’t counted what happened outside here--another result of my cheating our game. And he still let me pick the prize.
And what do I even want?
You.
The thought comes unbidden. Immediate. I want him. I want him the same way I want Skye and Leo. I want to throw our dynamic into the trash and just…be together. All of us. A true collective polycule.
I can’t tell if he heard me, but it’s obvious he knows what I’m thinking. My throat bobs. Fear grips my heart tight. What if what if what if-
Ren is closing the distance between us and I can feel the pull of his heat. My body is like a magnet, my thighs ablaze trying not to just crush him with my--
Down girl. You already went on that ride.
He’s over me now, his lips bowed and crimped.
“What,” he rasps, the heat of his tone melting my resolve, “would you like, Sasha?”
Fuck it. Fuck all of it. I grab his tie and pull his face down toward me. His upper body jerks forward and he careens down--gods, no wonder Skye does this so much--and I kiss him. His lips are soft and strong and completely devastating me.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve technically kissed him before. This is our first kiss. An earth-shattering, lava-forming, creating new continents kiss.
He lets me lead him, his tongue flicking my lower lip, asking permission, and I invite him in.
Vaguely aware of his hand on my waist, fingers wrapping and scrunching my shirt.
He lets out a small moan into my throat and all rational thought vanishes.
Fuck. I love him. I love them all. Skye, Leo, Ren. And it hardens my bones, softens my heart, steels my mind.
This is how it was meant to be.
160 miles away
Backstage, the music is muffled. Skye and Leo are standing awkwardly, Skye shifting from left to right, eyes wide and focused on the yellowing floor beneath them.
Leo’s lips drop and his heart pounds. “Are you…okay?”
Skye gives a half hearted nod as she pulls out her phone and reads the screen, illuminating the pink of her cheeks.
Leo looks up, toward the flashing lights ahead where the roar of the crowd coats the night. “I hope Ren and Sasha are having more fun than we are.”
Another nod, Skye’s chin jerking down. Leo hears a small hiccup disguised as a sigh. She pockets her phone and looks at him, something lighting her eyes in a way that makes him uneasy.
“You ready for this?” she asks.
Someone screams ahead and both of their heads whip toward it. Skye’s hand closes around Leo’s, squeezing.
“I think that’s our cue.”
To be continued…
#this took me a whole fucking year to perfect#and no it's not perfect#but i had hella fun writing it and OH BOY DID I GET INDULGENT#I've never been this FUCKING UNHINGED#I almost launched myself into SPACE writing this one#and the companion fic with Skye and Leo is in the works now soooo#I left yall with a lil tidbit to look forward to~#please please tell me if you liked it omg i need to know that year paid off#ahahaha ok! ENJOY!!#LSSR#snz#snzfucking#snzfucker#snz kink#fet!characters#snzfic#oc ren#oc sasha#allergies#OH BY THE WAY I THREW IN A COUPLE NEW OCS I'M PLAYING WITH#WHO MIGHT MAKE A DEBUT ON THEIR OWN TIME#REHREHREHHH#zen fic#zen ocs
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at the risk of sounding like really entitled….
does anyone else have a fic that is their most popular, but you don’t want it to be, because you don’t think it deserves it, and you have better stuff, and while ofc you are grateful that people like something you wrote, it’s almost annoying that for some reason That one is the most popular. lmao
#for me it’s this like time travel shenanigans ml fic called Why Are You Like This#which I had a ton of fun writing and I like the fic#but I also tend to forget about it lol#and then I see that it’s my most popular one and I’m like ‘not but this isn’t even in my top 5 favorite fics I’ve written. why’ hdjsjs#it’s probably closer to the bottom of the top 10? and I do not have that many fics hahaha#I remember rooting so hard for tell me something I don’t know to surpass it in kudos#which it eventually DID and I was so happy#but then later WAYLS passed up tms again lol#and I was slightly annoyed to realize that WAYLS was my first to break 5k kudos#while tms still hasn’t#it’s very close tho I need like. 2 more#ok ok sorry this definitely sounds super entitled DHDKDK#I promise I am VERY grateful for every fic interaction!! every kudos or comment I’ve ever received!!#thank you thank you to anyone who has ever read my stuff💜#I just think this is kind of funny#cause I keep scratching my head wondering why that one is the top fic#I think ppl just rly enjoy time travel stuff?#also I did it as a gift for yunyin based on one of her comics so that probably boosted it haha#anyway
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POST MORE SWORD OF FATE PLS IM BEGGING
i have very little in terms of actual art LMAO but i CAN explain the sword thing because i checked and i did in fact never make this plot point public. i struggled for a while with creating a villain for this story until i realized that. i put "sword" in the title of the game. of course it has to be about the fucking sword. DUH.
so i want SOF to deal very heavily with religion, specifically the way in which hyrule's religion forms post-sksw but pre-reincarnation. i've placed it on the timeline directly after sksw, making it the first actual reincarnation in hyrule. what this means is that there's no actual proof yet that the reincarnation thing is real and not just an insane bluff on demise's part, and so several key characters including link and zelda barely believe in hylia or demise at all when the story starts. my thought with this setting's version of ganon is that he's the polar opposite of the nonbelievers. The gerudo don't really exist as of now, but he DOES come from the desert region of hyrule--specifically, he was raised in a cultlike offshoot of the sheikah religion which interpreted the hylia/demise myth completely literally and believes that a doomsday is coming, heralded by the foretold return of demise. Because of this, he knows more about the cycle and how to set it in motion than basically any other character. Crucially, he and his people are some of the only ones at this point aware of the existence of the master sword.
ganon finds. a sword. a sword which he THINKS is the master sword. and this theory is only reinforced when the sword begins to speak to him about his destiny and the salvation of hyrule. unfortunately it is not the master sword and he ends up basically a pawn in the greater plans of what's left of demise & ghirahim within that sword, manipulated into attempting to revive demise and destroy the reincarnated hero and princess. he remains in denial until basically the very end of the final battle, completely convinced that he is the true savior of hyrule and LINK is the one being misled. ghirahim is a very good manipulator lol
#i know that the sword like dies with demise in sksw or whatever but this is my game and i can do whatever i want so ive decided it survives#because i need a plot device. ok. work with me here#asks#loz: sword of fate#anyway the religion thing is something that i really wanted to explore bc it fascinates me. bc obv in later cycles everyone believes#because they KNOW its true and have like. historical evidence of it. but what about the first few times it happened? post-sksw they had no#way of knowing if demise would make good on his promise or not. i can see belief vs nonbelief being a very strong dividing factor among#early hylians. its fascinating to me. lol#anyways zelda specifically fully believes that the hylia shit was made up by her great great grandparents or whatever as a power grab lmao#link is kinda like whatever. sure the goddess exists i guess ill pray to her sometimes but like did she actually found hyrule? probably not#and ganon and his people are HARDCORE believers. like to-the-letter. because of this they have one of the most historically accurate#accounts of hyrule's founding (which no one BELIEVES is accurate at this point. but it is) and have managed to hold onto records of both#the master sword and demise when society at large has basically either forgotten or decided to ignore them#wow. i forgot how fun sof is to write about. holy shit
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sweater weather
dnf fic, 1.6k, one shot, general, ao3 link [Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Fluff]
A cry escapes George’s lips. “Dream—”
Dream brings George closer, holds his face in two large palms. “Tell me when you’re hurting, sweetheart,” he whispers thickly, “and I can try help.”
George shakes his head. “No,” he says, weepy, “‘s’too much—”
“Never,” Dream says. He holds George’s gaze. “You’re never too much—nothing you ever feel is ever too much.”
[Or, The tide brings in old feelings, and George feels the ache.]
#HI HI NEWFIC IMBACK I LIVEEEE LIKE MUSHU ITSBRUTNEY BITCH#words cannot explain hwo relieved i am to have finally written somthing cohesive after MONTHS of fucking writers blocklike oh man. itwas Ba#idk where this came frombut i puked it up into my doc this morning !!! posted a couple hours ago n finally doinb tumblr post after being#late to my destination n getting maccas n the road works fuckning me around for 15 mins !! WE WIN NETHERTHELESS !!!!!!#itsmmaking me cry everytime i say i puked up this fic imcsorry its funny ok#anyways HOPE WHOEVER READS ENJOYS N I HUG YOU<3333 i had a lot of fun writing this :) it was one of those times where the words just Flow#i can breathe easy now iam floating on Clouds i am CLOUDBUSTING !!!!!#ok bye mwah ik it is 3am est hashtag yolo#dnf#dreamnotfound#dnf fic#my writing
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– did you love me when he was just my friend?
papa i don't need a preacher / i ain't some kind of creature / from some old double feature / i just wanna make you proud / of the kind of love i've found / but you say it ain't allowed / say it's a sin / but it's how i've always been / did you love me when he was just my friend? / daddy, do you think i've turned out right?
george luz, son of a small town preacher, grew up hearing that all love is heaven sent, that it's holy and true in all its forms. it was told to him every night before he closed his eyes and by the time he reaches adulthood, it's a core part of his nature. love is good. welcomed and encouraged. he sees it in the way his father glances at his mother, sat next to him in the second pew, before he begins every sermon, and he sees it in the quiet support she always gives back. he feels it every day when his dog licks at the palm of his hand whilst he sits restlessly on the front porch, wondering if there's something more out there than this one small town.
love is good. welcomed. encouraged. he meets the new hire at foxtail creek, a small ranch about a mile outside the town border, in the summer. the newcomer mostly keeps to himself, a rancher looking for temporary work. george can't help but be intrigued by the first outsider he's met in months and takes it upon himself to befriend the man. he'd always been good at making friends, most just pass through, or eventually move away, but george had always been content with the fact that his self-proclaimed wit and charm managed to win them over for however long they gave him. slowly, as he and the rancher become more and more intwined, george begins to realise that, in his neck of the woods, not all love is sent from above, at least not in the eyes of his friends and family.
– playlist for fic: heaven sent
– cowboy collab: #easy company cowboys
#george luz#band of brothers#bobcollab#cowboy collab#easy ranch#easy company cowboys#george luz son of a preacher man au#julian made a thing#julian writes#this song lives in my fucking chest ok i had to write something for it and george my guy you are the chosen one#“daddy you're the one that claimed that he loved me through the flame now why can't you do the same?”#<<< THIS LINE GOT ME SO FUCKED UP ISTG#and yes the rancher is someone familiar to us but i shall keep their identity hush hush for now#i'm too sleepy rn to write a better summary#so this is all over the place but it's gonna be a fun one (and ofc by fun i mean like a knife to the chest)
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happy new year to my @mcytblrholidayexchange @somehowmags :] some art and a small bit of story/dialouge :D sketch thing under cut
"Please, I-" the brunette falters, "I know you can help..."
She stares in what appears to be disinterest. the sun filters through his golden crown.
A glowing hand gestures for him to bring the red-head closer.
they hold a hand to clammy forehead, the room goes dark. like one of the fabled ghasts of the nether stole their fire back. Eret recites some kind of foreign stanza, Wilbur can see the wrinkle form above the king's shaded glasses as though in a trance.
Moments pass by.
Dots of light fade in and out of sight all around Eret's head.
The candles have returned to their previous burning state.
A soft breath of air tumbles from dry mouth.
Wilbur, looks into his son's open eyes.
Finally.
He did something right for once.
#i hope this is all ok!!!#had some fun with the dress with this :D#cawcaw motherfucker#my art#mcytblrholidayexchange2023#eret#wilbur soot#fundy#dsmp eret#dsmp wilbur soot#dsmp fundy#dsmp#dsmp fanart#eret fanart#wilbur soot fanart#fundy fanart#button duo#i... wait what is wilbur and fundy's duo name do they have one?#royalty au#my writing#happy (almost) new year!!
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"i don't think i'll ever understand musicals the way you do" is something i've heard from one of my friends a couple of days ago when i told him i'm about to cross the whole country just to see one of those (my favourite one!) live in theatre. and i can't blame him. if you'd have told me a year ago that i would do something like that, i'd probably have laughed in your face. life is so unpredictable. i guess i have changed a lot. and i could write thousands of essays about how musicals helped me get through the shittiest period of my life, but we are not going to talk about this today. today we are talking about in the heights, the first musical i got a chance to experience live in theatre, hopefully not last. so grab a cup of coffee and make yourself comfortable, this is going to be the longest essay you've ever seen, friends.
a little warning: spoilers. a lot of them actually. so if, by any chance, you haven't seen/heard it yet and you are going to, don't read it.
first thing i feel like i need to mention is that they had this mini bar inside the theatre and you could order a lot of different drinks there and one of them was called abuela's coffee. i heard one lady explaining to someone that it's actually coffee with condensed milk. my jaw dropped and i was like CAN I STAY HERE FOREVER, PLEASE? for those who don't understand why, here's a quote from the first song:
USNAVI: abuela, my fridge broke, i got café but no con leche
ABUELA CLAUDIA: try my mother's old recipe: one can of condensed milk
so this was my first "OH! THEY GET IT!" moment (a little note here: i had a lot of oh, they get it moments, mostly because i don't have any people around me who understand musicals the way i do... honestly, you'd have to live inside my brain). that was the first time ever when i could actually be in the room where it happens with all those people who get it and care about it as much as i do (mostly actors and people responsible for the whole show tho, but we will get to this later).
let's get to the show. so when i finally went inside and i saw the stage, i already had tears in my eyes (don't judge me please). usnavi's store, abuela's door, daniela and carla's salon, all those puerto rican, cuban and dominican flags (one couple behind me was trying to figure out which one is which and it was funny because i knew and i wanted to scream)... listening and memorizing the whole soundtrack is one thing. being able to experience it all live is something else. all those things around me were so familiar and this was the first time in months (MONTHS! OR EVEN YEARS!) i felt really understood. after all, it was all like a little celebration of lin's story (the one i love with all my heart) and i truly felt like home. so that was another OH! THEY GET IT! moment.
i don't think i'm going to talk about every single song here, that's not the point. i will talk about my favourite moments, but also about things that didn't work very well in my opinion (again: this was a polish version so all the songs were translated into polish. and they did a really great job here, surprisingly. but it wasn't perfect, more about that later).
one thing you need to understand is that i will never be normal about musicals so of course i had to burst into tears at the very first song (i don't even know why, i think i was a little bit too excited). i was actually crying in the most random moments like when i first saw nina or at the end of carnaval del barrio because I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT (who the hell cries at carnaval del barrio when everyone is having the time of their lives lol, me apparently).
ok, so the first song. the choreography, oh my god. it was everything. the translation was also pretty good here, i need to say this was probably one of my favourite moments. imagine me leaving today giggling like a child when usnavi came on that stage and started rapping, i was in heaven. also, i have to admit, the cast was amazing. i could never imagine anyone better for this role (and again, i am talking about polish actors because everyone knows who's the best usnavi of them all). he was cute and charming and awkward and so adorkable and also really handsome. he was actually perfect in my opinion.
i kinda lost my mind when i saw nina for the first time. first of all: i already knew who was going to play her and let's just say i fell in love with this actress before i even saw her live on that stage. this was important to me, because (as some of you know) nina rosario is my favourite character. and oh my god, she was an absolute perfection. what a voice, sweet jesus. i'm being serious, this girl is so talented, give her every award (i honestly hope i will have a chance to see her again one day, i'm just crazy about her). and breathe was so good! polish version was amazing, i was so scared they would screw it up, but they didn't, so all's good (this song is very important to me, ok?). also, she's a phenomenal actress, i could feel all her emotions for real. and of course i cried, what did you expect?
i don't have that much to say about benny, except that he was really cute and he had amazing chemistry with nina, so once again, the casting was really good. i mean, he is not chris jackson of course, but i have decided i'm not going to compare all those actors because everyone knows at this point how much i love OBC, i was trying to have an open mind. vanessa was also pretty great, amazing voice and her dancing skills, wow, just wow. i could talk about all those actors for days actually, but i'm not going to do that, so i will just quickly mention that i absolutely loved daniela and carla, abuela claudia made me cry, sonny was the funniest character in the whole play and i don't think i will ever recover after piragua guy's performance (i was the only person in the audience who was laughing when he came on that stage, they don't get it, ok? polish people have no sense of humour and that's a fact). actually, there were a lot of funny moments (obviously) and i was the only person who was laughing, god help me.
so let's get to the first thing that was a little disappointing for me. you will not believe it, but it was actually... 96,000 (this is one of my favourite songs and i seriously can't live like this). it's not the translation tho (it was honestly fine), it's the voice overlapping part at the end (again, the best thing ever, just listen to we don't talk about bruno from encanto and non-stop from hamilton and you will understand why it works so well in every lmm's song). the thing is, you could actually only hear vanessa's part and i wanted to die, because EXCUSE ME. i always sing usnavi's part and you could barely hear a word from it. but apart from that, the rest was fine, the choreography was amazing and it's just something i needed to mention because i had thoughts about it.
paciencia y fe! ok besties, i have thoughts, again. abuela claudia was absolutely incredible, also, her relationship with usnavi is something that you can't see in the movie version (they were so sweet i wanted to curl up and die. i knew about it before, i saw slime tutorial with obc on yt, ok? i'm pretty sure lin would be mad at me for watching bootlegs lol. i just wanted to say this). the translation didn't work out at the very end of the song tho, because when in the og version abuela sings about the "winning ticket", everyone knows already she won the lottery. i don't remember polish translation exactly, but it was something with double meaning, depends on how you interpret it, and i'm 100% sure people who didn't know the plot just didn't catch it. the rest of the song was absolutely beautiful tho.
when you're home. i was so afraid of this one, because i am totally crazy about this song (did i ever mention lin wrote this one after one of his first dates with vanessa? no? yes? ok i'll shut up about this now). oh, they did a really great job with it and it's a relief. i have nothing else to say, except that i was crying like a baby, but this song always makes me cry so what did you expect exactly? one of the best moments for sure. again, nina and benny's chemistry was absolutely incredible.
as much as i loved the club, i was actually really disappointed with one part, which is usnavi's famous "jealous i ain't jealous, i can take all these fellas, wHaTeVaaaaa". i've been waiting so long for this! and they messed it up with their stupid cringy translation which i don't even remember at the moment but usnavi was actually mad at benny and he cursed? ANYWAY. the rest of the song was great and the choreography was absolutely phenomenal, oh vanessa! let me get the next one! (i love her so much, she was amazing here). a little note from me: no one was laughing at the "no hablo ingles" part, NO ONE BUT ME!!! THEY DON'T GET IT! WTF! i was so mad (i am aware of the fact that most people probably didn't even know this story before and they just wanted to see a musical, not THE MUSICAL, which is totally fine. but sweet jesus, where is their sense of humour? they left it at home or what?).
and blackout was that part where the voice overlapping effect worked very well, so all's good. actually, one of the best moments for me as well. people were actually so confused when all the lights went down, but that was just so amazing. all the panic! everybody was screaming, crying! WE ARE POWERLESS! THE END OF ACT I!!! oh, i had the time of my life.
i had this weird feeling that they didn't exactly know how to translate most of hundreds of stories so they just made this song shorter than it actually is. which is fine i guess. honestly, it's better than bad translation, so i can forgive them. what i absolutely can't forgive tho is that the audience wasn't laughing at US NAVY. polish people, you have no fucking taste. i said what i said. and then again, usnavi and abuela's relationship was so sweet this song actually made me cry (mostly because i knew what was coming but also, i was just this weird girl who was sitting there in the second row and was crying at the most random moments).
ok, guys, honestly. carnaval del barrio was the best moment from the entire musical. oh, how much i want to experience it again! daniela was absolutely incredible, carla was so sweet, piragua guy stole the whole fucking show for me (seriously guys! he was just so amazing!). also, those little details i have never noticed before? i can't even tell if the same thing happened in the original version (the quality of that bootleg is actually terrible), but benny dancing with american flag somewhere in the background was so fucking funny and i don't think i will ever get over that part where at the end they were all still dancing and celebrating and nina and usnavi just ran away as fast as they could because... because you guys know what just happened. also, this is the moment i started crying.
i was so scared of it. let me tell you one thing, i experienced abuela's death at least fifty times and i still cry every single time. so atención is something i have to mention, because all the emotions and kevin's shaky voice made me burst into tears right away, and this time i wasn't the only one because i saw a lot of people crying when they realized what happened (i also heard a lot of OHs when he said abuela passed away, so yes, most of them didn't know this story and they were surprised). and alabanza was something else. believe me when i tell you i am writing this with tears in my eyes, i have never cried so much in public. this was the moment i was the most scared of and i was absolutely right because holy fuck. i was a mess. all the actors with those candles singing alabanza a doña claudia! (yes, they didn't translate it, all the spanish parts were left like in the original version and i am so grateful for that), it was just so sad and so beautiful. and this time i was actually like oh, they get it now (everyone was speechless and people were crying).
everyone must know at this point how much i adore champagne and i wasn't disappointed (thank god!). once again, usnavi was absolutely adorable here and people were actually laughing this time (also thank god!). how do you get this gold shit off? (my favourite line from the whole musical) was translated really well and the moment when usnavi and vanessa kissed! with all lights on them! this was so emotional and the audience reacted so well! we were all clapping (it was so funny to pretend like i didn't know it was gonna happen haha i was just as excited as all of them and once again i was like OH! THEY GET IT!). 10/10, would recommend.
if you think i wasn't crying during the last song, think again. one thing i absolutely hate about the movie version is that they actually changed the graffiti that made usnavi stay in washington heights, but i'm not gonna talk about that and i'm not gonna talk about vanessa also being there in the movie. in the original version it was a portrait of abuela claudia made by graffiti pete and oh boy, i lost my mind (i knew about it but i still lost my mind because it was absolutely beautiful). i got the feeling it was a little rushed in our polish version, but i can forgive them because it still made me cry. also, at the very end, usnavi did not only finally acknowledge he's home, when the song was over he pretty much told the audience that we are all home right now and may i just say... i felt that. i was home. they made me believe for the first time in my life i was where i belong, and somehow that was everything.
one thing about me is that this is actually all new to me. this was my first musical i saw live in theatre (and also lin's first child, which is exactly how it was supposed to be i think), and believe me when i tell you i've never had this much fun in my entire life, not even at all the concerts of my favourite artists. it was worth every money. it was worth spending 11 hours on the train and 11 more on my way back home, which by the way we should normalize (people are doing crazy things just to see their favourite artists on the stage and it's considered normal, so why can't we consider THIS normal?). anyway, i don't expect anyone around me to understand it the way i do, but i feel like i really found my thing, and it's all because of lin-manuel miranda, our beautiful puerto rican genius. he made me believe musicals can be cool and i truly wish i could thank him for that one day.
and like i said, in the heights is my favourite story with my favourite characters and i listened to it so many times i have memorized all the little details. experiencing it live is something completely different tho and i think it's safe to say this was the best night of my entire life. even tho most of the people in the audience didn't really get it, i finally felt like i was a part of this world created by my favourite genius and for the first time ever i felt understood. so i think i can say that now: i found my island, guys, i'm there, i'm home!
#if you were able to read the whole thing: congrats#also another note from me: i apologize for all those “they get it” “they dont get it”#i swear to god i am not making fun of anyone#you guys just know how much i am into it#and if other people were just there to enjoy it it's totally fine!#not everyone has to be obsessed!#but i am!#so i just wanted to explain it ok?#good.#also i apologize for it being so long but i had so much to say and i still feel like i didn't say everything i wanted#feel free to leave a comment or ask any questions if you want#now if you think i will finally shut up about in the heights on my silly little blog think again#i love it even more now if that's possible#and another explanation: i'm gonna tag this as my countdown because again i want all my ith posts in one place#thank you for your attention#it won't be long now*#why do you write like you're running out of time*#(not gonna tag this as ith cause this is only for my moots cause you guys get it)#(the last time one of my ith posts was seen by people who dont even know what that is i was depressed for days but that's another story)#(iykyk)#(and you know cause you left me tons of sweet messages guys i love you)
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