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#THEY'VE BEEN MARRIED FOR 15 YEARS
danandphilcatboys · 4 months
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not to be that person but dan and phil in this video give off MARRIED energy (not that they didn't before it's just the vibes are EXTRA strong here) cause like what do you mean they facetime each other ? what do you mean dan sends countless selfies to phil when he's away ?? what do you mean dan fell asleep with phil's glasses on and HOW and WHY ??? what do you mean dan burned himself from the shower in the hotel and phil CALLED HIS MUM ???? what do you mean dan went to the same place in sweden that phil has been to a million years ago and EVEN ordered THE SAME THING ?????
(literally lord if you're reading this i am so tired can i just have a piece of what they have pretty please i am so lonely)
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celestialrealms · 2 months
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Diavolo's 2022 birthday UR is such a comfort read for me. Not even just the romantic content with Diavolo (which is great too!) but just... I adore Barbatos and Diavolo's familial relationship tag this as ship and meet my blade
Diavolo spending the whole thing wanting to paint Barbatos's portrait to show his gratitude to him, and then them both ending up doing the same thing? 🙈
And the part at the end where they're all drinking together and it just feels sort of like MC is joining their family and has big "drinking with the mother-in-law" vibes?? 😖😖
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murasaki-cha · 8 months
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Ew they show pda like an old married couple. I love them more than life itself
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yourdyingwish · 1 year
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@ Last reblog a truly bisexual marriage is one where 50% of people thought one of you was gay and 50% thought the other one was gay and 100% are surprised you're marrying each other
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ktysh · 9 months
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another day, another date 🧡 and some stray kitties
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ayatheav · 2 years
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"you're such a kind person-- I'm sure you'll end up forgiving me again"
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blue-ink-pearls · 11 days
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So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:
Sklonda literally said it was him
Bobby Dawn has always been a predator
The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.
So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.
Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.
When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!
The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.
The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.
The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.
He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.
Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.
Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.
*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!
**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
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hello!!!
can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.
thanks!!!!
| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando x reader
ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.
ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3
ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion
TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.
but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.
staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.
despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.
they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.
time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.
time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.
it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.
it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.
but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.
having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.
no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.
no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.
and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.
it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.
she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.
the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.
it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.
"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.
she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.
from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.
with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.
because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.
times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.
times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.
times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.
it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.
so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.
but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.
she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.
as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.
part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.
this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.
time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.
they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.
they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.
deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.
with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.
and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.
countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.
when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.
"don't call the baby an 'it!'"
"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.
"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.
"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.
all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.
with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.
every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.
he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.
"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.
" 's at home."
when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.
"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.
he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.
she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"
"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"
when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.
"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.
she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.
instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.
with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.
he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.
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WIBTA
Would I be the asshole if I pull out of being a bridesmaid for my 'best friend'?
Background: E and I became best friends at 13 and we are both about to turn 43. we've been through a million ups and downs together. She has a crappy family and I became friend, sister, mother, support. In the last 15 years or so she has become a functional alcoholic and I have found it harder and harder to deal with her. I've bailed her out so many times. I've 'loaned' her thousands of dollars that I have no expectation of ever seeing again. I've tried to support her and given her advice when she asked for it (even though I knew she would ignore it) and listened to her problems (for hours and hours as she sucked down wine and got drunker and drunker). When she's not a drunken mess she's an awesome person, kind, funny, caring, generous and soberE was usually worth having to put up with dunkE.
Twice in our friendship we've had fights where it's taken us a long time to get back to speaking terms but there would be a text here and a phone call there, then we'd be back to talking for hours every other day. A year ago we had a huge fight and I decided I just needed to not talk to her for a while. I didn't even feel bad about not talking to her, it was almost a luxury to not sit on the phone and listen to her get progressively drunker as she slurped red wine. I did try the old tested route back to close friendship earlier this year. I would send her some texts when something big was happening or when I came across something I knew she'd like. But I would only get 1 or 2 word texts back. In February there was a major flood in our home town and I was freaking out about my family that still lived there - she was not, I felt like I was more worried about her mother than she was, I know they've got a bad relationship but we're talking a bodies floating around kind of situation. I was making multiple 5 hour mercy dashes with car loads of aid supplies and freaking out seeing these places we spent our childhood just destroyed and texting her about it and getting nothing back. I made a couple more efforts to contact her over the next couple of months but still nothing much back. Around May-June I decided I wasn't going to bother contacting her, I'd talk if she contacted me but I wasn't putting in effort anymore.
In September she sent me a text saying she was getting married in Jan 2025 and would I be one of her bridesmaids. I really didn't want to say yes. But almost 30 years of friendship, I felt guilty turning her down. And it felt like an overture on her part, like she was ready to make an effort. So I said yes and have been regretting it since. We are still not really speaking. We'll like each other's FB posts and that's about it. I mean there's still plenty of time for us to become friends again but I'm pretty much decided that if our relationship hasn't improved by the middle of 2024 I'm going to politely back out. It's going to be a backyard DIY wedding, she won't expect me to be heavily involved in the planning because she lives so far away that I couldn't do much more than turn up for the day and stand up with her. Me pulling out won't leave a hole in the planning so I know I wouldn't be an asshole for that. Where I might be an asshole is I think she would be really sad if I'm not there because I am the closest thing she's got to family, I know her mother and step-father won't be there and it's unlikely her brother will be. But I also kinda don't care because I'm sick of making the effort to be there for her when she's not making any effort for me.
So would I be the asshole if I pulled out of the wedding of my friend of 30 years?
What are these acronyms?
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thankstothe · 5 months
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Some notes on Wilson's marriages/divorces, and how he met House:
• House didn't just meet a freshly divorced Wilson. He met barely married Wilson, who just got notified about his #1 divorce by a lawyer, not his wife
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• Wilson walked around with papers on hand, long enough to give House a chance to sneak a peek. The same day he received the news. (there's a chance it was some sort of middle step in the divorce procedure, but "just served", checkmate your honor)
• House 100% knew that when he bailed him out. No, I don't have any concrete evidence besides "it's fucking House"
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• House had Wilson observed the entire time to know he didn't open the papers. The divorce lawyer prob gave him an idea of what it is, and he was just marinating in the suffering juice
• House had to be nosy and stealthy when he checked the package Wilson clung to, he saw what's written on it
• They didn't actually talk at the conference itself, so House did it silently too
• There was a law firm address on the papers, and you couldn't just google shit then. House's had to remember it to investigate it further, or he already knew of the firm (or it said "BLAH LAW FIRM BLAH HERE'S YOUR DIVORCE PAPERS, LOSER", which is possible)
• Wilson likely opened them in a hotel room (or he looked at the package sadly/angrily there too), needed a drink, and House was at the bar
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• House was watching Wilson at that conference, then at the bar, then meltdown over the song, then the whole fight and the mess, then the detention, and was like yeah I'll bail that
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• "First words you ever said to me." This is when they first talked, Wilson was in jail and the one in need
• Ok alright, hear me out, if House didn't know what the papers were at the time of bailing. There are 2 paths for him to find out
• Wilson STILL had them on hand in jail
• Or Housey saw them at Wilson's hotel room. Yeah
• It's been over the decade since they've met and they both vividly remember the details of that drunk night (I get why for storytelling purposes. Still... Much to think about)
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• That conference is either the last one, or one of the lasts, House attended. And that one was already boring to House without Wilson. 15 years prior to s06e06 "Known Unknowns", can't do the timeline magic I just eyeball it
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• House also introduced Wilson to Cuddy pretty soon, since she was a witness to the levels of despair he was apparently in
• House might've pestered Cuddy to hire him, or she chose to do so herself (whenever she was dean). Maybe House chased away some poor oncologist to make an opening. Even if House isn't as obsessed with Wilson at the start of season 1, he's always plotting
• There's the brother thing too. Wilson still fresh out of med school, still divorcing, still guilty af and looking for the brother in Princeton, so he was happy to work there
• Prior to that, Wilson was working 2 jobs to support himself and Sam and was ready to follow her to Baltimore
• The divorce and meeting House happened in 1991, the same year USSR completely fell apart. Just thought I'll throw that in #educational
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• Wilson was married, non-fraudulently, for 12 years total
• Marriage #1 has only lasted 1 year
• That means every marriage House was present for has lasted longer #math
• Wilson found a way to get fulfilled while in the marriage
• Now he's got a needy bitch with infinite problems and who will slurp any poison he has to siphon
• I'd argue House is what made Wilson bearable at home
• At the same time, House is what kept Wilson away from home, ultimately contributing to the divorce
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• Wilson himself describes his marriages as crappy - he doesn't really need help destroying them. House still helps~✨
• Timeline gets wonky, but there couldn't have been much of a downtime between marriages, a couple of years max
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• "Fell in love at the wedding" - whatever the fuck that means for Wilson
• Either Wilson met Sam through that wedding, and she also aimed to work in medicine - how they've connected. Or they went there as a couple, both being med students? Got high on emotions and jumped into marriage
• Wilson speedruns relationships once he's in them, so it could've gone "hey that was a nice wedding, how about we have our own?"
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• He fucking sucks at proposals, his looks and general air of niceness carried him all 3 times, I will not be hearing any objections on the matter
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• When Wilson talks to Cameron about cheating. He says, "I have (cheated). I always told them"
• "Them"
• It's could've been every marriage (#1, #2 and #3). If boy managed to sneak in cheating in his 1-year lightning marriage #1, while he was studying + 2 jobs (now I don't doubt his time management skills, but it's still a hassle. On the other hand, all that stress couldn't have been helping)
• Or it could be #1 and #2, or #1 and #3. But #3 is pretty much a certainty (he flirts with nurses on screen, House is also there), and it's "them", so why would he randomly stop in the middle? Don't think so
• What's most likely is - #2 and #3. When arguing with Sam (#1) again she didn't mention or allude to the cheating, her problem was that Wilson didn't communicate ANY emotions to her, she even admitted to House she made the most mistakes in that marriage, let's say there's some truth in that
• Wilson either didn't tell Sam about cheating, she didn't have a problem with it, or he lied to Cameron
• OR he didn't cheat on Sam
• He started to cheat after the first divorce AND his marriages started to last longer, which is funnier too
• He could've started cheating prior to House entering the picture, but much more likely - after. Divorce and/or House are the cause
• Speaking of. Meeting House is very tightly linked to the #1 divorce. Every time Wilson would think back on it, he would have to think about all the turmoil and getting bailed by House. And vice versa - every time he'd think back on meeting House...
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• "I met someone who made me feel funny. And I didn't want to let that feeling go." Another Cameron talk. Ur honor, there's something on that wall
• btw, he is STILL married while meeting House, so if you hilson 1st-night-fuck truther, that meeting is his cheater origin story in a more practical sense. He then could've really meant all the marriages, but then he lied about telling Sam/Cameron, he might not count it since he's divorcing to tell Sam
• Ultimately, he's a huge liar, and I'm wasting my time. What I'm saying - nothing is really off the table with this guy in terms of hcs
• Aftermaths of #2 and #3 aren't really talked about like #1. It must've been really nuclear
• House says neither of them recovered from (#1) divorce to Wilson's face, Wilson doesn't contest that in any way. Even tho House didn't know Wilson before the divorce he usually right on the money with these things
• After the divorce #2 Wilson got 3 legged cat
• After failing to secure marriage #4 (#1 part 2) he got a diabetic cat
• Just like the thing he has with missing phone calls, after every divorce, consciously or not, he might expect a savior to bail him out
• After and during #3 he crashed at House's, then surfed hotels, then moved in with a dying patient, then Amber's, then House moved in with him (still Amber's)
• Maybe his wives kept taking properties in the divorce, and he just stopped getting them
• Man frankly didn't have a home for a while (HOMELESS BUT NOT HOUSELESS)
• Then Wilson finally commits and gets the place for himself and House, from Bonnie (#2)
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• Wilson adamantly remains on good terms with his ex-wives (but not random exes. One helps House with a prank, House kept tabs bc of course)
• But Wilson thinks they hate him. Did he ever pay attention to them?
• While spending all the time with House, then cheating, telling his wives about it, Wilson gave them more attention and emotions to delay the divorce
• He also learned how not to get attached in marriage, to not get destroyed by the divorce (excellent gambit if you expect your marriage to fail)
• He has a better support system now too. Can't believe House is your support system, fucking lmao and ouch. Cuddy is his only other friend we see, maybe Stacy at some point (he kept in touch with after the incident)
• All his other friends and family we hear next to nothing about, at best they're surface level
• In season 5 he's only visited by the coworkers/House's team + Cuddy <- all that is pretty much House's tolerance circle
• House is pathetic, but Wilson is something else entirely
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matan4il · 5 months
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Daily update post:
This morning, 15 minutes after the break in fighting was supposed to begin, Hamas fired two rocket barrages into southern Israel. This is what we mean when we say that Hamas has broken every ceasefire ever. The only reason why this didn't lead to the hostage deal falling apart, is because Israel chose to "contain" Hamas' violent rocket attack. But remember this when we explain why we can't accept Hamas' existence anymore.
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Israel confirmed that the 13 hostages being released have arrived in Egypt, and there are already Israelis there, taking care of them. IDK when we'll get their names, and images of them safe back in Israel, but as you can imagine, everyone here is holding its breath for that. Still, their well being comes first, they're being taken to a hospital first, to see their families, and only then (and based on whatever they prefer) will there be anything more public. There will not be interviews, however, 'coz something they say might risk the other groups of hostages meant to be released in the upcoming days.
Hamas is also releasing some of the Thai nationals they've kidnapped (I heard 12 of the 23 taken hostage), which are being let go of unconditionally. Before anyone tries to make out this shows Hamas is humane, I'll just point out that Hamas terrorists murdered at least 33 Thais on Oct 7.
Some of my fave commentators recently on what's going on here since Hamas' massacre aren't Jewish, or even Israeli. Here's a few of their tweets:
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Regarding the last one, I just wanna say that most Israelis will continue to trust most Arabs. That's just how we have always lived, despite the on going terror attacks. The day after Oct 7, I mentioned that I went to my hospital treatment. The guard there is an Arab guy. He carries a gun. I couldn't help but think about it. And then I did what I always do, I thanked him for his work (being a guard is difficult), and wished him a good day. He smiled big and wished me the same. He's lovely. What Hamas did on Oct 7 is not his fault. But the mistrust of survivors, and some of those who care about them, is also very human and understandable, as much as I'll continue to call on everyone not to generalize about Arabs, or any group.
Especially when some of Hamas' victims are themselves Arabs. Here's a young Israeli Muslim Bedouin woman, who has been speaking up on behalf of her friend, 17 years old Aisha al Ziadna, who was kidnapped by Hamas on Oct 7.
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A Sky News reporter was particularly shameful the other day. She tried to use Israel's willingness to release 3 convicted terrorist per just 1 innocent civilian hostage to vilify Israel. Here's the reply she got:
Just a reminder, once again, that when you listen to western media, which is supposed to be objective, these are often their info sources on this conflict:
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Speaking of lack of objectivity, an Israeli newspaper found out that the International Criminal Court has appointed a Danish lawyer to investigate the Israel-Hamas war, and it's a man (I'm not sure I'm transcribing his name from Hebrew correctly, but it should be something like Andreas Laursen) who has worked in the past for a Palestinian "human rights organization" which has been outlawed in 2021 for having ties to terrorist organizations, who was involved in 2018 in trying to make the case that Israel had committed war crimes, who has lived in the Palestinian city of Ramallah, and who is married to a Palestinian woman. This Israeli newspaper has contacted the ICC, asking why the person appointed to this investigation isn't someone who would at least appear to be unbiased. The answer was (I'm translating from the Hebrew article): "We maintain confidentiality about anything that pertains to specific subjects that are related to our employees. Every personal decision made by the head prosecutor fits the policy and relevant procedures that oversee the court's human resources matters."
Because there are still people denying the Hamas rapes:
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I've spoken before about Liel, and how long it took to identify her body, but this tweet kind of broke me all over again.
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(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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youneedsomeprompts · 2 years
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20 childhood best friends to lovers prompts
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requested by: various anons
Feel free to use and reblog!
#1 - when reuniting, they feel understood for the first time in long
#2 - seeing how greatly the other has worked on themself and being proud of them
#3 - joking that they will marry each other if they don't find someone else
#4 - being much more open with each other than with anyone else
#5 - not seeing the other romantically even if they would be perfect for them
#6 - already being part of the other's family since they were small
#7 - protecting the other from bad decisions in their love life
#8 - saying 'I love you' platonically
#9 - being mistaken for a couple
#10 - describing the perfect partner & it's actually a description of the other
#11 - having a crush on them for years but being too afraid to ruin the friendship
#12 - feeling safe with the other because they know their needs
#13 - knowing the other better than themself because they witnessed everything they went through
#14 - being the first one the other calls when they need someone to talk to
#15 - knowing they can trust each other with everything
#16 - having a history of fake dating each other for public events
#17 - using terms of endearment
#18 - trying to interpret the chemistry between them as platonic because they don't want to get their hopes up
#19 - waiting for the right moment to confess their feelings (bonus: it has been ages)
#20 - going on a date feels weird because they've done all of that already without realising that it could have very well been considered a date
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tarlosweeklyprompts · 23 days
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i do then, i do now, i do forever
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Hello and welcome to the first event of 2024 hosted by Tarlos Weekly Prompts. This even focuses on the 1 year wedding anniversary of TK and Carlos! Their anniversary is 5/16/23 (that's the day the show aired and until we get told otherwise is the date I will be using for the anniversary).
This event will run until May 16th. All things created for the event needs to be posted by then and will (hopefully) be added to a masterlist that can be reblogged. There will be a variety of prompts to choice from for the event (listed below). As always, if you have any questions please ask me! I hope everyone has fun with this!
Let's go over some rules first which are more or less the same as they always are for this blog.
Accepted works: fic's, moldboards, fanart, gifs
All works need to be new works.
All works need to be Tarlos centric
All works need to be properly tagged.
All work needs to be posted by 5 p.m. est time on May 16, 2024
Tag the blog (@tarlosweeklyprompts ) I'm tracking the tag #idotarlosevent
and now what you guys really want....
~Prompts~
listed under the cut are 15 different prompts that you can pick from
First Anniversary - what happens? who plans it? do they both plan it? does one plan a surprise?
"How could you forget our anniversary?" "Because every day feels like our anniversary with you."
Honeymoon Part 2 - for their first anniversary TK and Carlos go on a trip together
TK and Carlos sit down for the day to talk about what they've learned throughout being married for a year.
Revisiting conversations - TK brings up wanting to have kids again.
"I loved you then. I love you now. I love you forever."
"I didn't forget, I was just waiting to surprise you."
Vow renewal
The 126 throws a surprise party for the couple.
"I do, forever, want to be your husband. That hasn't changed in the year that we've been married."
TK and Carlos redo their honeymoon
"I hope it's okay that this is the first year of forever."
"You're always going to be my greatest adventure."
"Every day I realize more and more that you're the one that I want and nothing will change my mind about that - not even this."
"Why is that in my house?"
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badaleesbish · 8 days
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♡ Work In Progress. ♡
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° Better Than Him. (Request)
hi, just wondering can you make jealous bada x gf or friend’s little sister reader ? like to the point that she could explode cos of her jealousy angstttt and smut sry if this is inconvenience for you, so if it’s inconvenient, you can skip it! i luv your works btw
NSFW, Angst, Jealous Bada x Friend's little sister reader
° Part 2 of Pretty Little Kitty. (Request)
NSFW, Bully Bada
° Series for Bada x idol!Reader. (Request)
NSFW, Fluff
° Lovers. (Request)
Hi, lovely! May I please request Fluff and smut fic with Bada x childhood/first and only love reader, Bada is two years older? They've been together for years. In a relationship since reader was 14/15. And married in very early twenties when they eloped? Just like a timeline of their relationship since they were kids all they way until the show and now?
NSFW, Fluff, Bada x childhood/first and only love!Reader
More to Come...
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empressofmankind · 6 months
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On My Silent Days
I Miss You A Little Louder
[Crocodile x female!OC]
Explicit with a capital E
Word count: 7k / 15 pages
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A/N: Writing this has been my whole life the past 5 days, as anyone who has frequented my Dash recently can attest. I am obsessed with their chemistry.
Technically, this is part of 'The Show Must Go On'. You don't have to read it, but I recommend it. You'll get to know Shivs and her helter-skelter relationship with Buggy which sits as the background to this whole ordeal.
You see, this is like, Arabaste arch at the earliest - Cross Guild era more likely. By then, Shivs and Bugs have rollercoastered through so much bullshit and they've come out rock solid on the other side somehow. Clown keeps failing up, even with this relationship. Sir Crocodile finds the whole thing insulting, to say the least. And seems to think it is one well-placed remark away from utterly crumbling. Jealous ex, whomst? My dude, you fucked that up yourself. Repeatedly. You had more chances than you have fingers. Chemistry aside, this is absolutely a desert of his own making.
What else do you need to know? Shivs is only 2 or 3 years younger than Buggy (i.e. my age, come sue me), but Crocodile is 5 years older than the clown. So, she's in her mid 30s, he's in his mid 40s. She originally met him when he was maybe 28? Do the math. Oh yes, and for those less familiar with the Cross Guild era: our favourite clown has managed to accidentally become the lauded public face of what is actually Mihawk and Crocodile's venture. Understandably, the ex-warlords are a little miffed by this and spend decent amounts of time physically abusing poor Buggy.
Shivs' absolutely flawless plan is basically swapping sexual favours with her ex for get-out-of-jail-free cards for the clown.
My girl literally barging in here telling Croc: "I'll take ur cock if u leave my clown alone."
Yes. That's it. That's the plot.
She almost had him, too. Arguably, she had him the entire time. And then he gdamn snapped her from the pond edge like an unwitting gazelle in the last minute. Cuz we all - her included - forgot who we're dealing with for 14.5 pages straight. APPARENTLY.
screams into a pillow
Tag(s): Oh? Ok. Sexual favours! Is she fucking her boss? No, but he always makes it feel that way. Is she fucking her ex? Yes. Are they technically still married? Maybe. Blow jobs? Deep throat. Size kink? 100%. Filthy language. Graphic sex. Soft dom? Power bottom? I am on the fence. Little girl vibes on the margins, like, he tries. She too sassy and sooner a brat. Oh, orgasm denial! Big time. Humiliation? A little bit. Stretching? Yes. Moar size kink. Choking? Big yes. Spoiling? Also yes. She deserves nice things. Power imbalance? Yes. In whose direction? It kind of flip-flops. Did I need to spend so many words on their smoking and his cigars? Probably not, but it scratched an itch. With them, it counts as foreplay; I am sure. You know you're doing well when he takes the damn thing outta his mouth. World class banter, too. If I may say so myself. But really, the bottom line is that it's just oral and PIV dressed up real fancy.
ON MY SILENT DAYS 
I MISS YOU A LITTLE LOUDER
The double doors were as tall and foreboding as Shivs remembered. All bevelled hardwood and delicate gilding. She stood before them, gazing up. In the dead centre sat a brass knocker shaped like a bananawani's head, polished to a sheen. 
Knocking was for people with appointments, and waiting wasn't something she planned on doing here ever again. She put her palms against the cold, expensive wood and pushed the massive doors open as if breaking a siege. They swung on smooth hinges despite their weight and struck the marbled walls with resounding booms.
The opulent office beyond was exactly as she remembered. Marquina walls, fishbone parquet floors, blackwood furniture. The taxidermied juvenile bananawani set in the wall vitrine behind his desk was new. What had been there before? A map? A ship? No, a stone. An artefact of some kind riddled in curious glyphs.
Crocodile glanced up from his papers and the irritation flitting across his scarred face in the split second before he realised who'd dared barge in, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. How often had she seen someone shrivel into a desiccated husk straight after that look?
Shivs held his pale gaze, set her jaw and strode into his office as if down the plank. 
The creak of leather as he leaned back in his seat. “You know I've killed people for less.”
She paused in front of his outrageous statement piece of a desk. She put her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and forced her shoulders to unclench, her stance to relax. If Buggy’s dumb luck had managed to rub off on her in these past months, then now would be the time for it to start working for her.
“Lucky I am not ‘people’,” she said as she crossed her fingers in her pocket. 
Amusement squinted his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched up behind his cigar. “No, you're not,” he said as he rose.
Shivs was not short. Not by any regular definition of the word. Buggy was only a head taller than her. She hadn't forgotten how tall Crocodile was, not really. And yet, as he came around his desk and towards her, there appeared to be no end to him as he approached. If she reached up, stretched her arm, she could nick his cigar. But only just.
"Do you still smoke?" he said as he stopped well within her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He took a flat, brass case from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to her. She remembered it. Remembered the exquisite taste of the narrow cigarillos in it.
"No."
"Liar." His gaze flicked down along his cigar at her. "You smell of cigarettes, doll."
"I have changed my ways."
Humour flitted under his gravelly voice. "For the worse." 
Shivs pursed her lips. "It's an expensive lifestyle when they don't come free with a goodnight kiss."
"Hah." 
The bark of laughter actually reached his eyes, crinkling their crow's feet for a moment. He held out the case to her again. "You poor thing. I do support charities, you know."
She took it this time and flipped it open. The rich waft of tobacco and sweet Goji berries greeted her as if no time had passed at all. Might as well enjoy her sojourn back to hell while she could.
She put one of the thin cigarillos between her lips and let him light it. Watched the firelight catch and reflect in his rings. Took a moment to savour the blend, rich and sweet as polished Beli.
They were very good.
Always had been.
Shivs took the cigarillo from between her lips and blew the smoke up in rings through a slow smile. They almost reached him.
Crocodile leaned down through the cloudy hoops to pluck the shoulder of her red-and-white striped sweater between thumb and index finger, a judgemental 'hmph' escaping around his cigar.
She enjoyed the expensive smoke and his fascination while it lasted. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough? Letting him treat her like a doll badly in need of a better dress up? He liked to spoil, always had. Now, more than ever, he had the means to take it to completely nonsensical levels. Her ego could take it, if that was the price of leaving Bugs alone.
Shivs indicated his everything with an up and down wave of her free hand. "No way to afford the good stuff on a waiter's salary."
He let go of the fabric to brush his thumb across the smear of grease paint near the collar, staining his skin and the gold of his ring red.
"Or a dud's haul." 
He hooked the silk kerchief from his vest's breast pocket and wiped his hand. She followed the length of his arm up to his face.
"The entertainment isn't half bad."
“Yes.” He chewed the butt of his cigar, derision twitching his thin lips as he tucked the kerchief into an inside pocket of his coat. “His pathetic antics can be mildly amusing.”
Shivs’ grip on the cigarillo tightened, but she smiled pleasantly. “I like it when a man can make me laugh,” she said, pointing at him with the thin smoke between her fingers. “Even if at his own expense.”
She frowned at his broad back when he turned away from her without a witty reply, retreating to the button tufted camelback near them.
“You're not here for a social call,” Crocodile stated as he sat down, putting his arms along the sofa's curved back. Something flitted past his pale eyes, but it was gone so fast Shivs couldn't nail it. “What do you want, doll?” 
Shivs rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips as if preparing to drive a hard bargain. She intended to seem casual, unconcerned. But her palms were slick with sweat and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She filled her mouth with smoke, tasting the rich flavours. Savouring them before blowing it out in small puffs through her pursed lips.
"I want you to leave him be," she said, extinguishing the cigarillo in his ashtray.
Crocodile shifted and put his shin across his knee. Her gaze flicked down and she saw him take note. 
"And if I do?"
She held his gaze. One breath, two breaths, moved her jaw but didn't form the words. She wanted him to leave Buggy alone. Even if that meant taking his… beating, instead.
He blew out smoke through his nose, waiting patiently for her answer. The hint of a smile lingered as his pale eyes held hers from above the waterline of his scar. And in that moment, he reminded her so strongly of a lurking crocodile. Watching. Waiting. Biding its time to strike. It sent a shiver down her spine, and not entirely out of fear.
Shivs pursed her lips, steeled her emotions, checked her resolve. I'll do it for you, Bugs. It's a deal I know he won't refuse.
She met his intense gaze head on, then dropped hers slowly to his crotch once more. Allowed it to linger there, before looking back up.
He chewed the butt of his cigar and beckoned her. "You never could fit all of me down that skilled throat of yours." 
Shivs watched him uncross his legs as she approached. She trailed her fingertips along his clothed thighs before leaning on them. It brought her face level with his and she deliberately took a moment to breathe in his secondhand smoke. 
“Want to judge if that hasn't changed for the worse?” she whispered against his lips as she savoured the distinct flavours that made up his private blend. 
Strong muscles flexed and relaxed under her palms, and she presumed that to mean ‘yes’. 
She ran her hands down his muscular thighs, taking in their shape until her palms rested on his knees. His breathing changed, she could tell from the way he exhaled smoke. Denser palls, deeper breaths. No resistance as she pushed his knees apart far enough to kneel between them.
Brushing her fingertips across his overstated belt buckle, she smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She slipped the tooled tip through the frame, her movements slow and deliberate as she listened for the subtle shifts in his breathing. She loosened the prong with a sharp tug on the strap, using more force than was strictly necessary. An undercurrent of need laced the grunt that escaped him in response. 
Shivs reached into his pants with both hands, catching his gaze as she drew his penis out, feeling it swell against her palms. She made a noise of appreciation as she let her hands slide down his shaft. His pale eyes hunting after hers when she broke their gaze to look at her fingers fitting around the base. She had not forgotten how tall this part of him was.
Leaning forward, she trailed teasing kisses from halfway down his shaft towards the tip. I’ve swallowed swords longer than this, and dicks aren’t even sharp, she thought as she flicked her tongue past the rim, playful-like. Length was only half the problem though, she knew that perfectly well.
She put a hand on his thigh and leaned on it as she ran the flat of her tongue across the head and took him into her mouth, suckling the tip. Inched his cock further with deliberately slow, short bobs, tilting her head to ensure he’d catch every movement of her lips as they worked around him. Need strained his stoic expression when she stole a glance up. A twitch of his eyebrows when the tip bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked down and drew his cock back out, watched it twitch and his grip tighten on the backrest as she felt his thigh flex under her palm.
She took him into her mouth again and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Relaxed her neck and let it slip further than before, teasing at the entrance to her throat. Nudging it, stretching it just a bit before sucking down and drawing him back out, tasting precum for her efforts.
The frustrated groan that rumbled up from somewhere deep within his broad chest sent sparks flying down her spine. This is gonna work, she thought as he reached for her head, petted her hair while she teased the precum from him with fleet, wet kisses.
“Stop messing around and swallow my cock, sweetheart,” Crocodile grunted, pale eyes alight with hunger. The petting stopped, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of her neck instead. It was like the twitch on the line that told a fisherman to react.
Shivs glanced up along his hard shaft, and reeled him in: 
“Yes, Sir.”
The horny groan that drew from him, before she’d even begun to take him again, settled comfortably in her bones. Gotcha, she thought.
Shivs breathed slow, deep, steady breaths as she slid his cock along her tongue, lining him up. The head pushed past the entrance of her throat and she switched to shallow breaths through her nose. The grunts and huffs that escaped him every time she swallowed were inhuman and she needed more of it.
She slid his cock further down, felt his thighs tremble as she did. The closer she got, the more his musk pervaded every stifled breath she managed around his thick cock. It was a heavy, heady scent and she shifted her position to press her thighs together. He didn’t notice.
She stroked his legs, ran her hands up to his hips as she leaned closer, and took him deeper still. His fingers were fisted painfully tight into her hair, but his large hand followed her without force or resistance, resting heavily against the back of her neck.
Almost. 
Almost there.
And then the tip of her nose bumped against his flat stomach. She could hardly smirk with his dick this far down her throat but counted on the crinkle of her eyes to work for her as she caught his gaze and slowly raised her hands, palms up. She didn’t care that they trembled. 
Look. No hands, motherfucker.
Crocodile grinned down at her through a huff of smoke, cigar dangling between his teeth. She thought it looked a little worse for wear.
“The pathetic clown doesn’t know what a dirty little slut you are, does he?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice thick with lust as he petted the back of her neck. “Giving such sweet head to save his sorry hide.” He ran his fingers along her throat as if trying to feel how far down his cock had gone. “I always knew you could do it, sweetheart.”
“Now,” he added as he huffed out a pall of smoke and she felt cool metal sliding around the back of her neck, barring a retreat. “I need my cock-hungry doll to make me feel good.”
Shivs dropped her hands to his hips, gripping the folds of hard muscle there for support. She slid her tongue between her bottom lip and the underside of his cock, making sloppy little noises with the slightest bob of her head. Even those small movements pressed the round curve of his hook into the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that made her squeeze her thighs together. She didn’t bother to try and hide it.
His large hand joined his hook, strong fingers digging into the back of her head, twisting into the hair there and holding her put as his thick cock twitched so far down her throat she didn’t even know anymore where precisely she felt it. She worked her throat around him, drawing rumbling moans from him that pitched.
“Ah -nngh- you feel so good, doll. So. Damn perfect.” His thighs tensed under her arms, flexing his hips with short jerks. She closed her eyes as she swallowed around him, frowning with effort. His breathy grunts as he lightly fucked her throat made her pussy throb.
Suddenly, his grip tightened like a vice and he shoved her nose-first against his hard, trembling stomach muscles, stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open as her throat strained and cramped, swallowing around him in reflex.
 “Fuck, honey. Ah---! Yes, yes.” The satisfied, drawn-out moan as Crocodile spilled his hot cum down her throat reverberated through the quiet office. 
Her fingers dug around his hips, tears jumping into her eyes as she gagged, feeling cum come up around his cock as stars danced into her vision. His grip weakened as he rode out his orgasm and she pulled back before he was quite done pumping cum. Shivs swallowed it mindlessly while coming up for air. His dick slid wetly out of her throat and mouth, streaks of cum connecting them before they broke.
She glanced up from his softening cock, glistening with her saliva all the way to the hilt. He’d tilted his head back, held his cigar nowhere near his mouth as he came down from his orgasm with deep, steadying breaths that expanded his wide chest and flared his nostrils.
He straightened with a lazy groan and a roll of his broad shoulders. 
Shivs met his gaze, panting.
“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice breathy as he reached for her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The gold of his ring was smooth where his fingertip felt rough, the warm touch grounding her fried senses. It lingered at her eyepatch, lightly brushing the faded leather. “The things we let people do to our faces…”
He hooked the kerchief from his pocket and dabbed her mouth. She reached for his hand with both of hers, touching the back of it, taking the cloth. She watched him watch her as she cleaned her face.
“Don’t you have a new pretty thing? Miss Face-of-the-Casino in her cute kimono?” Shivs forced her tone to be casual, edged with light mockery, maybe. It was stupid that it’d stung when she’d seen the younger woman. An irrational, petty feeling. An old pain. And, none of her business, at any rate.
The dismissive look that flitted past his pale eyes was rather unexpected. “An investment, nothing more.”
“She’s pretty,” Shivs said. Perhaps, part of the sting had been the fact that Miss Pretty had not responded to her the way women did when they were into other women.
Crocodile looked at his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “That she is.”
Their gazes crossed and she pursed her lips. He reached for her jaw, fingertips grazing its curve. Then leaned down and pressed a peck against her frown. She sat up and chased after him as he took another draw from his cigar, stole the aromatic smoke from him as she teased her tongue into his mouth. He blew it out through his nose, taking the cigar from his mouth as he caught the back of her neck with his hook and took control of the kiss.
“You can have one if you like, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart, indicating his cigar. 
And lord, if she wasn't tempted.
“You share ���em these days?”
His derisive ‘hmph’ made her smirk as she rose to her feet. 
“What about Miss Pretty? She enjoy your… cigars?” Shivs said, and noticed she’d gotten his cum all over Buggy’s sweater. Shit.
Crocodile glanced at her, pale eyes searching. “I prefer making deals with those who have something of value to offer, doll.”
Shivs put her hands in her pockets and rocked up on the balls of her feet with a mildly overacted grin. “Oh, it’s a deal then? You’ll play nice?”
“My compliance doesn’t come that cheap,” he said through a huff of smoke.
She crooked an eyebrow, risking a hint of ridicule in her tone. “Cheap? And here I was, thinking I have a unique skill up for offer.”
He actually cracked a smile as he flicked the butt of his cigar into the general direction of his desk and ashtray. Then beckoned her with hook and hand. 
“Come here, doll.”
It would have been too easy.
She sauntered back to him and linked her fingers with his, curling the others around his hook, letting him draw her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shifted so his cock was between them, pressing against her clothed cunt.
“What else will it cost me?” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly riding against him. Every rub along his dick pulsed pleasure up her spine, and she hadn’t failed to notice it was already stiffening again.
He stoked the tip of his hook along her cheek as his large hand took in the shape of her firm butt, guiding her movement. “I want to know if your tight pussy can take all of me now, too.”
“Here, on a couch?” she said as she slipped her fingertips under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She trailed her hands down the revers of his vest, grabbed hold of them as she dry humped against him. “I thought you said you weren’t cheap?”
The bark of laughter that drew from him shouldn’t make her smile the way it did.
He pressed a kiss against it. 
“I wouldn’t dare, honey,” Crocodile said as he gathered her up in his arms and rose smoothly from the couch, leaving his coat behind. He strode across his study and through the adjacent library to the expansive bedroom beyond. She remembered the sweeping view from its curving window wall and the sea of nightlights twinkling far below.
Instead of depositing her on his spacious bed, he set her down on the plush rug beside it. And motioned up and down her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “Take those rags off.”
Not my rags, Shivs thought as she kicked her boots aside, removed her baggy pants and grabbed the edge of the sweater. She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t like them, and she hadn’t bothered wearing one this evening either.
Fingertips traced the lacy sides of her underwear while she had the sweater pulled over her head.
“You still have those.”
He sounded…not surprised. Curious, maybe?
“No reason to get rid of perfectly fine underwear,” she said as she freed herself from the sweater, finding he’d already undressed.
“They can stay on,” he said as she folded the sweater, her hand lingering on it before she turned to him.
“For now?”
A smile twitched the corner of his lips. 
“Here, doll.” He held something out to her, cream-coloured and neatly folded. It seemed small and delicate in his large hand.
When she took it, the fabric cascaded into a surprisingly classy, mid-thigh negligee of shimmering silk. The top was constructed from intricately detailed lace with tiny bananawani worked into the pattern.
“Pretty,” she said as she brushed a finger across the delicate lace. She put it on and it fit her so neatly it felt like a second skin. An outrageously luxurious second skin for the silk felt soft as sin and the lace light as air. She turned a full circle on her tiptoe, overacting it just a little. She knew he liked that.
“Looks good on you.” He reached for her head, combing his fingers through her tangled red hair, tucking stray bangs behind the strip of her eyepatch. “I’d never let you get so grimy.”
“Can’t be a dirty little slut if you wash me.”
“Hah.” Crocodile leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, just like that. “Come here before I shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”
“Don’t tempt me- ah!”
Her reply cut off when he suddenly let go, dropping her into his bed. And that was quite the distance, even if the landing was soft. He immediately climbed on top of her, caging her with his much larger body. She spread her legs, accommodating his wider hips as he reached for her breast. His thumb traced circles around her nipple through the fine lace, stiffening at his touch.
“Like what you see?”
“Always have, doll,” he rumbled against her collarbone. Though no longer smoking, she could still smell it on him. Would be able to pick it out of a crowd. Subtle tones that reminded her of burnt coffee, dry glass and cinnamon, mingling with the faint wax smell of his hair gel and heavier citric notes of his cologne.
A small gasp escaped her when he brushed the lace down and kissed her hard nipple, taking it into his mouth and licking the sensitive tip. She felt the curve of his hook press against her hip, hitching up the silk as his hand slipped between her thighs. Strong, confident fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and outer labia underneath. It ignited old desires, flickering life into fires she’d thought snuffed out.
His rough fingers traced the delicate lace, undulating with its curling, stylised waves. Her breath caught when they found the edge along the crease of her thigh. A mewl on her lips as he dipped them under the smooth fabric, fingertips grazing the warm, sensitive skin of her outer labia and sending sparkles of anticipation up her spine. The delicate fabric stretched with an alarming whimper from the seams as strong digits brushed between her folds, not quite able to reach. He grunted against her breast at the soaked pussy he found there.
She felt him slip the hook under the edge, warm from resting against her hip. The thought of him pulling her panties down with it lit up every nerve in the vague vicinity of her hips. Her eyes snapped open at the sharp jerk, the sudden cry of fabric tearing at the seam between silk and lace. 
Shivs made a noise, nose wrinkling. Those were the nicest-.
“I’ll get you new ones,” Crocodile promised against the curve of her breast, his gaze down as he hooked the fabric from her hips. The hunger in his pale eyes as he looked at her pussy made her spread her legs further. He leaned down to caress her labia and press a light kiss against them that made her throb, thinking about his tongue.
A breathy huff escaped Shivs when he slid his middle finger between her folds instead, running slow circles around her inner labia. Gathering the moisture there before teasing them apart and brushing across her clenching entrance. Pleasure sizzled up her spine when he pressed it inside, mapping her inner walls and finding all the right places far too easily. If he kept this up, she was going to come very soon.
He switched to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin as he inserted a second finger. “I seem to remember you liked getting your little hole stretched,” he rumbled against her nipple, and spread his large fingers apart. She moaned at the strength in them, the ease with which they pried her open. It sent twinges of sweet, sweet pressure blazing through the haze of need fogging her thoughts.
She reached down to his hand, stroke the back of it. Found his thumb and guided it against her clit with a needy moan. Her thighs trembled as he massaged it firmly, pushed his fingers all the way in, then spread them as he pulled out. She felt his knuckles and the hard edges of his rings press into her labia when he pushed them back in but she didn’t mind, kind of liked it. She reached a hand for his shoulder, neck, grabbing hold of the tout muscle there as she arched her back towards him. His pace was torturously slow and she was loving it.
Shivs let out a drawn out whine when he stopped, pulled at his neck, wrist, knowing perfectly well neither will give an inch but trying, anyway. She tried to clench her thighs, rub them together, nurse the need smouldering in her veins, but his knees were between hers and she writhed in vain.
Crocodile shifted unto his elbow, bunching the silk further up her hips while taking his hard dick in hand. A hoarse whisper close to her ear as he guided the head against her slick pussy: “Won’t you beg for my cock, sweetheart?”
“I need to feel your cock in me,” Shivs said as she caught his hungry gaze. “Feel it fill me, stretch me.”
He grunted with barely contained need, she could see it in the straining of his back as she reached for his thick neck, folding her hands behind it. Felt it in the way his hips twitched as he pressed his shaft through her wet folds, coating it with her juices.
“Am I not a good girl, sir?”
“Yes, you are.”
Shivs moaned loudly when he entered her. Whined at the delicious pressure as he pushed deeper into her soaking wet pussy, stretching her around him. She clung to his neck, mewling with incoherent need. Her hand went to his hair, messing it up but not caring. Neither did he.
“Ah -ngh- fuck,” Crocodile grunted, his breath hot against her neck.
Shivs held onto him for dear life as she arched against his hard body, savoured the sharp pleasure of him stretching her cramping, soaking cunt wide enough to plough through. He’d not bottomed out yet. If she could take him, she’d have him wrapped around her finger.
“You’re. Fuck. As tight. As I remember. Sweetheart,” Crocodile groaned into her neck, his gravelly voice strained to the point of being near unintelligible. It was getting tougher and tougher to push further through her tight, contracting walls.
“Almost there,” Shivs whispered as she brushed a stray bang of dark hair from his eyes.
The noise he made in response was inhuman and she drank it in as she closed her eyes, spread her legs further to accommodate his hips and relaxed every muscle she could still feel. A whimper bubbled from her lips when he pushed up against something deep within her that twitched a pleasure so sharp up her spine it sat right next to pain. 
“Fuck, yes,” he ground out as his hips pressed flush against hers, his breath hot, heavy pants buffeting against the crook of her neck. “Feels. So good.”
He managed to push himself up onto his elbow, satisfaction animating his whole face as he looked at their joined hips, her soft labia squashed against his pubes. Shivs whimpered, his movement nudging tight bursts of pleasure deep within her. 
“I knew you could do it, doll.” His tone was thick with lust, laboured from his heavy breathing. He gently brushed a strand of sweat-slick red hair from her forehead with his hook, looking so proud. “You like getting your little cunt stuffed, don’t you?"
Shivs gave a sharp nod, struggling to form words.
“I know you do, honey,” he whispered as he rolled his hips against hers, not truly thrusting. She reached for his face with trembling hands, stroking his hard jaw. He grunted under his breath with each push and she pressed pecks against the puffs of hot breath until he responded. Until he chased her tongue back into her own mouth and pressed her head back into the pillow with the desperate force of his kiss, demanding entrance with his tongue that she was more than willing to give. 
“That's all you g-got?” she whispered through a moan and a bated breath when they broke their kiss for want of air. “I b-barely feel it.”
“Ah? You want more, doll?” Crocodile pulled out with a grunt, just a fraction, before shoving himself back inside her to the hilt, making her mewl with pleasure through clenched teeth as his cock bottomed out and up against her cervix. “Shall I take you back to my study? Pound you bend over my desk, like I used to?”
Shivs whined into his mouth as she latched onto him again, arms tightening around his thick neck as her cunt squeezed around his cock from the pleasure coiling around her spine. If he took her from behind, he could probably push deeper still. Oh, she’d be in trouble.
“Who’s cheap now, hrm?” A breathy hum into her ear as the obscene slap of his hips against hers filled his bedroom. She whined in need, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain making her tremble against him. “Do you want to be my little whore again? My pretty fuck slut to sit on my cock whenever and wherever I want?”
All she could do was whine and roll her hips to meet his steady thrusts. Fingers digging into the taut muscles across his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked her deeper than she’d ever felt a man, even him. She whimpered, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain all but overwhelming her. Especially when he thrust just right, shoving his cock against a sensitive spot so deep inside her she didn’t even know she had it.
“I missed my. Pretty cocksleeve,” Crocodile grunted into her ear. “The. Only. Little slut that can take me -hng- properly.”
“Fuck me harder,” Shivs whispered, hands massaging his broad shoulders. He groaned with effort, she could feel the bridled strength in the muscles working under her palms. His pace picked up, and so did the strain in his body. Every thrust stretched her so deliciously, stimulating every needy nerve inside of her. 
“Do it,” she moaned wantonly as his thrusts started to push her up on the bed, her weight no match against his strength. “I c-can take it.”
“Ah - hng- you’re. Going to. Make me cum, doll,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place as he jerked his thrusts up against her. Her mind was unravelling. The only thing she could think about was his cock filling her, burning up every single nerve she had as needy pleasure coiled in her belly. She wanted him to cum. She really did.
When he paused, she struggled to comprehend why. Her gaze found his. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his mouth slack to accommodate the deep breaths heaving his chest. He was barely holding still, strain thrumming through every inch of his large frame above her.
“Does. My pretty little thing want. Cum as deep in her tight pussy. As her pretty throat?”
She whined, pulled at his neck with both hands. “Y-yes.”
“Beg. For it.”
“P-please,” she whimpered as she tried to make him move, weakly rolled her hips towards him. 
“Please what?”
“Please, s-sir.”
The noise he uttered in response to that settled somewhere at the primal base of her brain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear it again.
“Please, sir. Pound my needy hole like I deserve,” she mewled into his ear, savouring the way his breath hitched, that noise came again. 
“Damnit, doll,” Crocodile grunted through clenched teeth as he picked up a pace that became quickly rougher, slightly erratic. He locked his hold on her shoulder, broad fingers digging around her thin muscles and narrow bones, keeping her put as he pounded into her soaking, cramping cunt. “Gonna fuck you so full, you'll be leaking my cum well into tomorrow.”
“Please, please, pleaaasse,” she whined and clenched around him as he fucked her into the sinfully soft matrass with long, deep strokes that shoved his cock shamelessly up against her cervix to fit it all in. She wanted, needed, to cum around it, desperate for release. “Fuck me full of cum, sir. Stuff my tight cunny like you did my slutty mouth.”
“I -ngh- will, honey. I am,” he ground out, barely intelligible as his pace lost all semblance of rhythm and he bucked against her in the grip of his orgasm’s first throes.
“Oh! Yes, yes,” she moaned as he shoved his throbbing cock as far as she could take it, cumming against the deepest corner of her cunt as she shuddered around his cock with unfulfilled need. He stayed buried inside her as he came down, breath erratic before steadying, slowing. She whimpered in need, clenching around his softening cock. She hadn’t been able to cum around it like she wanted. It was too thick to cramp enough for a proper orgasm. She knew that, but had thought maybe this time…
He knew it, too. Remembered it.
“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her parted lips. “Unable to cum around a cock like a big girl.”
She made a small noise that he swallowed in a kiss.
They stayed that way until her breathing steadied as well. Then he sat up and gathered her into his lap. She held onto him, her cheek against his collarbone. Not quite ready yet to let go.
“You look parched, doll,” Crocodile said as he brushed a bang from her eyes.
Shivs peered up at him. “I would not say ‘no’ to a sweet white.”
A noise escaped him that could have been a fond one as he lifted her off his lap and rose. The sound of his retreating footsteps filled the quiet. He’d gone to his study, judging by the distance. Shivs got up as well and shimmied the negligee down. Despite everything, she did not feel like taking it off. It felt nice against her flushed skin.
She sauntered to the curved window wall and found the view precisely as she remembered it. A sea of nightlights twinkled across the city below, mirroring the deep blue, star-speckled sky above. The moon hung low, waning from view. It wasn’t long before he returned. She heard him uncork a bottle behind her and fill two glasses. The snap and swoosh of his lighter. The familiar scent of his cigar preceding him as he came to stand beside her, still naked.
He held a glass out to her, a cigarillo clamped against its curve. The wine was a deep bronze instead of the pale yellow usual to white wines. She accepted the glass and smoke, gaze lingering on the narrow slot through its delicate stem. It allowed him to hold them with his hook without slipping. She glanced sideways and up at him. A fond smile twitched her lips when she noticed his hair was neater than before. He’d evidently taken a comb to it for a hot second.
Shivs put the cigarillo in her mouth and turned to find his lighter lying on the nightstand beside the wine bottle, and a corkscrew with its split cork still attached. She glanced at the label as she lit the cigarillo. It read ‘1811’ in large, proud capitals, and a name in a curving script she couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. She would not be able to afford it, anyway.
Taking a sip, she returned to his side. The wine was sweet, indeed. With hints of lime, honey, saffron. She made herself comfortable against him, her bum resting on his thigh. “It’s a nice view,” she said as she blew out a thin pall of smoke.
He glanced down at her and their gazes crossed as he idly stroked her hip. “It is.”
Shivs leaned into his touch, sipping the wine. It really was, very good.
“Clever scheme you’ve gotten up to, in order to save the loser’s sorry hide,” Crocodile remarked as he blew a smoke ring against the narrow cloud she’d just produced. “But it has a flaw.”
Shivs let her weight shift from his thigh to his loin, only the soft silk between them. “You sure?”
A self-satisfied smile twitched behind his cigar as he gave her hip a squeeze. “None of this will work on Dracule.”
Only because I don’t have a penis, she thought, but no matter. They may have both grown older, but Croki was still fundamentally the same man she’d left years ago. And that would work for her, she was sure of it. Inevitably, Mihawk would pick on Bugs. She would take it upon herself to get irritatingly upset about it. Mihawk would no doubt insult her next, and Sir Self-Satisified here would take it personally by-proxy and shut him up. It’d be a win.
“I’ll think of something,” Shivs said as she blew a thin pall through his smoke ring, dispersing it.
He glanced at her, amused. “He’s partial to good wine, at least.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
She nipped her own wine, idly rubbing her thighs together. Pleasure skulked around the base of her spine, denied but not forgotten. She made a little noise against her glass when she felt his hand move up her thigh, his thumb brush under the edge of the negligee.
“Still needy?” he said as he bunched up the fine silk, rubbing his middle and ring finger against her clit in slow circles. It sent lazy sparks of pleasure straight to her brain. Drawing a shuddering whimper from her as he dipped his middle finger between her folds.
“Cum for me, honey,” Crocodile rumbled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger along the inner rim of her vagina, then teased the sensitive spot further down. Shivs gasped through her moan as the briefest shudder of an orgasm stole over her like a thief in the night. It was not enough, not nearly enough.
“N-need more,” she said as she put the glass down with a wobble. Reached for his large hand when he stopped, withdrew, tugging it back. Bunching two of his fingers together, of a mind to stick them into herself if he didn't.
“Come to our board meeting tomorrow. You’ll come sit with me and I’ll take good care of your needy little hole.” He shook her fussy touch and caught her pubes, massaging his palm firmly against her soft cunt, pressing her bum against his cock. “You can ride my palm like you used to, and I’ll make you cum on my fingers till your tight pussy is sore from cramping around them.”
Shivs wasn’t particularly keen on doing any of this semi-publically, least of all anywhere Bugs would be. Though she feared she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this, as easily as she’d talked herself into it.
“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll leave the pathetic clown alone,” Crocodile promised as he stroked her flat belly with the rounding of his hook. “Can’t beat the loser if my hand is occupied with something sweeter, hm?”
Shit. She had to tell Bugs. Forewarned, forearmed, and all that. She turned in his hold, his hand moving to her butt instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, but he caught her wrist when she took a step back.
“Ah, ah,” he admonished as he stopped her, pulled her with him, back into bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
“I, what? Why?” 
Suddenly, she wanted to leave as he gathered her against him, nestling her into his lap and chest, spooning his large body around her like a cage. She wanted to leave, wanted to go to Buggy and cry when he guided his cock back inside her still moist pussy with an incriminating noise and a satisfied rumble. She’d meant to turn this trick and tell Buggy about it. Tell him her plan to manipulate the ex-warlord to leave him alone, to leave them alone. Tell him it had worked. 
Shivs pushed herself on her elbow but Crocodile pulled her back down to him.
“Stay,” he said as he hooked the fluffy underblanket and silk cover sheets about them, his arm around her waist, hand on her hip.
“Why.” She had to tell Buggy, but now she couldn’t. She’d left after they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t know. He’d wake up alone.
Crocodile stroked the midline of her belly with the tip of his hook, rippling the cream-coloured silk as it moved up her chest, counting to the fifth rib. The one behind which her heart sat.
“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
A quiet sob escaped her.
"Ssh, sleep, honey," Crocodile whispered into her hair, fingertips stroking her hip. “I’ll take good care of you tomorrow.”
~
Honourary mention tags: @smut-goblin , @ruledbyproblematique , @gingernut1314 , @swirlsofblackandwhite
(N/A): To anyone reading & making it to the end. Writing this has consumed me the past days. I want to know what you think! What did you like? What made you laugh? Was there something specific you noticed? Something you now wonder about? I am 100% open to lengthy comments and blow by blows, ngl. I am obsessed with this.
If you want for more, I jotted down some of my own thoughts regarding this debacle. I may also be plotting another stint. Because Impel Down, do you understand me??
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crabdrabbles · 3 months
Text
AleRudy Getting Together Headcanons
Warnings: None Ships: Alejandro/Rudy A/N: Aro-spec Rudy? Aro-spec Rudy. Words: 1875
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They've known each other for 20 years, and have been together for 15 of them, married for 10. The reason they didn’t get together sooner was because Alejandro was dating Valeria at the time but their relationship soured. 
Rudy fell first, and he fell hard enough to bruise, but Alejandro fell harder. 
Out of the both of them, Alejandro is the most emotional and Rodolfo… less so. He’s a little more emotionally detached. 
It goes to say that Rudy absolutely positively adores Alejandro and loves him with his entire heart, but he’s just… not the best at vocalising it. Verbal and physical affection was never really a big thing when he was growing up, so he got used to doing other things to show he cared like acts of service or gift giving. 
Rudy also grew up in a large family. Being the eldest sibling/cousin, there were a lot of times that he had to step in to stop arguments. He learnt how to keep a level head to try and avoid any worsening conflict. This ends up becoming a problem a little more into their relationship.
‘I love you’ is also something that Rudy struggles to say. Yes, he loves Alejandro, but to him they’re just words. Saying them himself holds no power or meaning. Not as much as the little things to show your love that you care about them– subtle things, like restocking Alejandro’s hair gel when he notices it running out. Making him his morning coffee just before his alarm goes off so he’s able to drink it while it’s still hot and before he even has to roll out of bed.  
Expanding on Rudy being a little emotionally detached, as one can imagine, this caused a lot of arguments when they first started dating. It wasn’t an issue for when they were just friends because Rudy was already such a loyal friend to Alejandro there was no question with his feelings towards his then best friend.
Being in a relationship was a new territory for the both of them. Alejandro because Rudy was the first person he actually felt a deep connection to whilst any previous relationships were closer to flings than anything more. For Rudy, Alejandro was one of the first few romantic relationships he had ever had– if not the first.
So as time went on, Alejandro began to notice what he believed was Rudy’s… lack of attachment.
Again, Alejandro is a passionate and emotional man. He loves his friends, his soldiers and his family fiercely, but he sometimes expects others to show the same intensity.
So when Rudy didn’t seem all that enthusiastic in the first few months of their relationship, Alejandro began to believe the worst. 
They had arguments here and there, as most couples do, but Alejandro reached breaking point around 3 months into dating. And thus their first proper argument as a couple happened. And it was bad. 
Alejandro was furious beyond words, using his anger to hide the hurt he felt at what he incorrectly assumed was Rudy rejecting him for months. He would constantly say those special three words and only receive a smile in response or an awkward grimace and a swift change in subject.
He accused Rudy of not caring about him, given how little emotion he would show when they were together. He even brought up that Rudy only seemed the most romantic/emotional during sex. How he cradled Alejandro and whispered sweet nothings in the man’s ear as he took him apart and built him back up, made him whimper and keen in the dead of night. 
This, of course, crushed Rudy.
The argument would then get worse when Rudy, without meaning it, would seem to undermine Alejandro and tone down any concerns he had when in reality he was just trying to calm him down the only way he knew how. Sometimes, Rudy would curse himself for having such a level head and occasional aloof demeanour as it never failed to make him seem all the more distant and closed off to those closest to him.
It’s during that argument that something finally gives in. As always, Alejandro is yelling, gesturing angrily and so violently that it almost makes Rodolfo flinch. Almost. 
“If you don’t love me, just say it! I am sick of playing these games–”
Rudy’s attempts at calming his lover down only just seemed to add fuel to the fire. In the end, he sat resolutely in silence as he waited for Alejandro’s rage to simmer down. That was until something he didn’t expect slipped from his Colonel’s mouth.
“This is like Valeria all fucking over again!”
Rodolfo could handle being yelled at. He could handle hiding every flinch that wanted to escape whenever Alejandro got violent and began to throw the nearest objects to him into the wall (but never at Rodolfo– Lord knows Alejandro would never forgive himself if he laid a hand on the man he loved). He could handle the harsh glares and the cold shoulders that followed a few days after every argument. He could deal with those. He would persevere because he loved Alejandro. He just never said it. 
But to be compared to that bitch was what hurt the most. Valeria– who had buried her perfectly manicured talons into Alejandro’s heart all those years ago and then ripped it to pieces when she yanked her claws out just to watch him bleed. Rodolfo knew that Alejandro didn’t mean what he was saying. He was too lost in his own rage to really think about what he was saying. Alejandro continued raving– mostly to himself now that Rudy had bowed his head to stare at the floor, shame and guilt eating away at his insides. 
The argument came to a barrelling stop at the first sniffle that cut through the room. It was quiet but deafening to Alejandro’s ears and enough to make him stop his rambling and look at his boyfriend with panic in his eyes. He had wanted Rudy to hurt, yes, selfishly wanted him to feel the hurt he had made Alejandro feel these past few months— but he didn’t want this. Didn’t want to be the cause of the fat blobs of tears dripping onto the floor as the other man stared at it. His anger was still present, but it took a backseat as he rushed to try and comfort Rudy, his heart breaking when the other man held out a hand to stop him, shaking his head and denying Alejandro the right to soothe the hurt that he had caused.
“Rudy, mi amor, I am so sorry–” 
“No.” Rudy whispered through his tears, stubbornly keeping his gaze on the floor just so Alewjandro could not see how deep his words had cut him. “You are right, I am just like–”
The speed and strength that suddenly seized him in the form of Alejandro’s hands clutching his upper arms startled him. He looked up with wide and wet eyes to see Alejandro almost exactly the same. His love looked so heartbroken. 
“No, Rodolfo– Rudy, it was callous of me to compare you to that woman. Perdóname mi corazón, I may have been angry but that is no excuse to say that to you.”
“But–” Rudy’s mouth snaps shut when Alejandro shakes him, his earlier fury returning for only a split second before melting away into the most hurt he had ever seen on his Colonel.
“Escúchame– listen. Listen to me, Rudy. No matter what happens between us, you will never, ever be like she was. You are the most thoughtful, selfless, brave, beautiful man I have ever known..” Rudy opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when Ale shook him again. “I mean it, Rudy. I mean it.”
Alejandro, for all his training and status, panicked when his reassurances only seem to make the other cry harder. His fingers only tightened around Rudy’s shoulders, pulling him close and pressing his lips against the other man’s hairline. 
“I love you.” Rudy whispered through his tears. Alejandro hated the way his heart skipped a beat  “I love you. So much. So much that breathing is unimportant when I am around you because you always take my breath away. The sun rising is nothing in comparison to your smile. You are the man I would live and die for– the man I would start wars for if you only asked.”
Alejandro had been taken aback by his lover’s words. To hear him speak about him with such awe, such reverence that it would make God himself jealous. Rudy was a lowly disciple, willing to worship the very ground that Alejandro stood on like a man pleading for salvation. How… How had Alejandro missed the adoration Rudy had for him? And now he had gone and made the man cry like he had been rejected from the gates of Heaven. 
“I'm sorry.” Rodolfo continued, “I am sorry that I have not said it enough. I am sorry that I do not love you the way you want me to– the way that you deserve to be loved.”
“Oh, mi amor…” Alejandro had whispered back, all remaining semblance of anger draining from his body once understanding clicked into place. “Perdóname…”
The Colonel reached out, taking Rudy’s hand into his own, and placing kisses so soft onto the other man’s knuckles that it felt like he was merely brushing his lips over flesh. 
“My love, my life, my heart… If I have your love, no matter what kind, then that is more than enough for me.”
To say the argument made their relationship stronger would be an understatement. They communicated more, voiced any worries or their needs, cleared the air before anything could fester.  They flourished together and only grew more madly in love with each other as time passed.
Not to mention that Alejandro became more acutely aware of the tiny things that Rudy did for him to show his love– and began to do the same. Topping up the spice rack that Rudy heartily used at mealtimes before they could fully run out, cleaning his favourite pistol before he had to do it because Ale knows just how much his lover hated doing it at the end of a long mission. 
Months later, Alejandro can’t rightfully remember who had told him about the idea in the first place, but he was quick to bring it up to Rodolfo the second he had the chance. He explained how a couple shows that they love each other by tapping three times anywhere on their partner’s body. Rodolfo, touched, says that it sounds like a wonderful thing to do. 
It’s when Alejandro and Rodolfo are lying in bed together, limbs tangled together as they exchange sleepy kisses that Alejandro feels it. Three taps. Three taps. Three Taps. Three taps with a break between each sequence. I love you. I love you. I love you. It’s beautiful and almost overwhelming enough to bring tears to his eyes. 
From there, Alejandro never again doubted Rudy’s love for him, especially when he felt three taps on his wrist as Rodolfo slid a gold band over his ring finger half a decade later. I love you, the taps whispered.
“I love you.” Alejandro said, beaming with adoration.
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