#*shakes fist* you punk kid

[jintaka-hane]

Absurdly Cute

Masterlist

Summary: Boredom leads the crew to find ways to entertain themselves at the captain's expense... An amusement that could cost you your live. Word count: 800

The Victoria Punk drifts peacefully on calm waters. The atmosphere on board is serene, with no wind to propel the ship and no clouds to threaten its tranquility. There's no rush either, so the crew takes the opportunity to relax leisurely on the deck, some enjoying the time to rest, while others seek ways to entertain themselves.

The captain is among the first group, peacefully taking a nap. Using some sacks as makeshift pillows, he rests with his arms folded behind his head, his chest gently rising and falling with each relaxed breath.

A cautious distance from him, Killer, Heat, Wire, and you are sitting in a circle on the floor, playing cards silently to pass the time. After a few rounds where Killer has emerged as the victor and Heat as the runner-up, it’s now down to a tiebreaker between Wire and you to determine the loser of the losers.

“... the two of hearts and the three of clubs,” you say as you drop both cards into the pile, revealing a terrible hand.

“Ace of spades and ace of clubs,” Wire announces his hand immediately, grinning mischievously.

“Sorry Y/N, you suck at this game.”

Giving a slight kick to the pile of cards, you cross your arms over your chest. “This game is fucking bullshit.”

“Bullshit or not, you lost the bet,” Killer states, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a small mysterious object.

You hold out your palm for him to hand it over. "Fine".

When he drops the tiny item into your hand, Wire, Heat, and you lean over to inspect it.

Seeing what it is, you let out a groan of frustration. The corners of Heat’s lips curl as much as his facial muscles physically allow, and Wire's shoulders start shaking uncontrollably as he brings both hands to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Seriously, guys?” you ask with a mix of fear and disbelief, glancing toward the imposing figure of the sleeping captain.

“Seriously,” you hear Killer’s voice through his mask.

You analyze the contentious object again, glowing innocently in your palm, and let out a exasperated sigh.

“... He’s going to kill me.”

Heat and Killer shrug nonchalantly.

“A bet is a bet,” Wire adds, still wearing his malicious grin. “Go on.”

Rolling your eyes back, you clench your fist tightly around the small item and stand up, delaying the inevitable no longer.

On tiptoe, with slow and calculated steps, you start approaching the captain, praying that the wood doesn't creak beneath your feet.

"Kil, how much more stuff like this do you have?" You hear your shipmates chatting in low voices behind you.

“Oh, you have no idea...”

You shake your head to concentrate and ignore their comments. Your senses are on high alert, attuned to any factor that might work against you and wake the captain, like a sudden gust of wind or a seagull squawking overhead. 

Killer, Wire, and Heat's vigilant gaze are fixed upon you, silently tracking your cautious movements. As you draw closer to the captain you carefully hover over him, swallowing hard and extending your arms to keep your balance.

An ill-timed fly buzzes over Kid's face, making you freeze as his nose wrinkles at the annoying sound. With your heart in your throat, you realize that your life depends on how deeply he is sleeping. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

His eyes remain closed, but he raises his human hand to lazily swat at the pesky insect, then scratches his temple before putting his arm back under his head to continue sleeping. 

You remain completely still, not daring to move a muscle, and look at your crewmates with a pleading gaze. They quickly urge you on, Heat mouthing Go with exaggerated movements, while Wire gives you a thumbs-up.

You furrow your brow and give them a slight nod, then shift your attention back to Kid. 

Shaking your shoulders and rotating your neck to ease tension, you draw in a breath that you don't release, and close the distance between you and Kid's mechanical arm. Now or never, you tell yourself with resolve as you open your fist, revealing the small object in your palm alongside a mark with its shape engraved in your flesh.

Gripping the magnetized item firmly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue poking out, you bring it closer to the metal surface with meticulous precision until it makes contact, adhering with a faint click. With a gesture of victory, you step back to admire your feat:

Adorning the imposing mechanical limb of the dreaded Captain Eustass Kid, gleams a small and absurdly cute Hello Kitty magnet.

****** 

It isn't until late at night, after having spent the entire day exchanging knowing glances, nudges, and silent laughter with the rest of the crew, that you hear him.

"W-what the HELL is this!? AGAIN!? I swear, I’m gonna fucking KILL YOU ALL!!"

@fanaticsnail this is your fault! My stupid obsession for them is your fauuuuult! 🤣

[the-kr8tor]

Baby's breath for Hobie with ❣️ who's taking the twins for a playdate with Charlotte and Max. Maybe plays with the children himself aswell:3

AHHHHH so adorable! Thank you for requesting! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, cw food mention, FLUFF

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“This place is terrible! I want to see the manager!” Hobie's clear acting voice makes you laugh while you take out the freshly baked cookies from the oven. His feigned anger is followed by childish giggling, four sets of happy kids playing along Hobie's antics.

The whole house smells of cookies, sweetness wafting from the kitchen to the living room where the twins' toys are scattered along the carpet to play and share with their newfound friends.

“Mummy's in the kitchen!” The unmistakable voice of Billie pipes up from the bout of laughter. “She's busy!”

You decide to leave the tray out to cool, opting to peek behind the door to watch Billie and Mona play with Charlotte and baby Max, who looks so tiny on Hobie's lap while his big brown eyes watch on as he holds onto Mona's Gromit plushie. There's a toy cashier in between Hobie and the girls, complete with plastic plates and utensils in front of Hobie. A toy kitchen stands behind the twins, towering over them in all its non-toxic colourful plastic.

Charlotte, looking absolutely adorable in her overalls and pink flower blouse (who's a year and a half younger than your girls,) whispers into Mona's ear. She doesn't quite understand the concept of whispering just yet, so you can clearly hear her question.

“What's a man-ager?”

Mona answers quickly, “someone who is the boss of a place.”

“So your mommy is the boss?” Mona nods, Billie paused her ‘argument’ with her dad to agree enthusiastically. Charlotte's eyes light up, “My mommy is the man-ager too then!”

You choke on air when you heard her adorable voice. Hand covering your laughter, Hobie catches your eyes with a look and a pout that says ‘help me out here.’ You shake your head with a grin, he mouths a ‘please’ and you instantly surrender especially when he flutters his long lashes at you. He knows the effect it has on you, and that's why you have Billie and Ramona.

Popping out of the doorway, you pretend to play the part, you look like it too with your frilly apron. “What seems to be the problem?” Sitting next to Billie, she gives you a nod while her arms are crossed over her chest, butterfly clips moving along her nodding head. Her sister follows right after with the same arms over the chest move, with a pout similar to her dad, her right sock mysteriously missing from her foot.

Charlotte looks over the two before copying their movements. You wish you had a camera with you to capture the adorable moment. Max gurgles, giggling at the toy in his tiny fists. You can see that Hobie's struggling not to laugh at the four of you. You look too serious, while the girls are narrowing their eyes at the ‘annoying customer’ in front of them.

“Your employees burnt my soup.” He gives the trio a faked hard look, making each of the girls snort. “I never thought soup could get so clumpy, love— Ms manager.” With a calculated cough, he corrects himself to continue the bit.

“That's all?” You raise a brow, and you can see the three girls in your peripheral copy your expression one by one. Hobie tamps down a laugh.

“‘That’s all?’” Hobie bounces Max in his hold, the baby blows snot bubbles in return. “My mate and I came all the way from Wales to try your world famous soup and what do we get? A clump of soup that looks like oatmeal!”

You nod like you're actually a manager hearing complaints. “Can I see the soup, girls?”

“Wha–mum!” Mona protests.

“I just want to see it, Cheese—I mean Ms Brown.” You put your hands on your hips, acting but you still want to keep your girls on their toes. You still remember the last time they made ‘soup,’ their play kitchen set smelled of your lavender lotion for weeks.

Charlotte can't help but giggle at that. “She called you ‘Ms Brown!’”

“That's our last name, Char.” Billie says, handing you the bowl of ‘soup.’ The soup is actually a bunch of ripped paper soaking in water.

“Oh! I thought it was punk.”

“Punk?” Hobie breaks character as you ‘inspect’ the bowl of so-called soup. Before he could elaborate on his question, you poke the ‘soup.’

“Yeah, I don't see the problem.”

“I told you!” Billie cackles while her sister claps slowly. You blame all the movie nights where it's Hobie's turn to pick. Charlotte giggles, taking the bowl to place it in front of Hobie.

He looks at you with a soft smile, winking briefly at you, foot nudging your own. “‘m not paying for clumpy soup.” Taking Max in his hold, he happily reaches out to you, kicking about on his tiny legs and feet. “And neither is my mate! We're takin’ our money somewhere else!”

The twins have reached their role play limit, guffawing at their dad's ‘angry’ words, Max's expression makes them break. While Charlotte is in hysterics on the floor.

You coo at Max, grabbing him and taking him into your arms. The baby smiles, making grabby hands at the silver necklace Hobie gifted to you just after the girls were born. “Well, your friend here doesn't look like he wants to leave.”

Hobie lounges on the floor, arm propping him up, cheek pressed atop his shoulder. He sighs dramatically, giving each girl a defeated look. “I never thought I'd be betrayed by an eight month old.” Billie laughs on the floor while Mona has managed to latch onto you, hiding her giggles against your bicep. “I don't blame him, he has taste.”

You playfully kick Hobie, earning a genuine smile from him. “If our soup is not up to par with your tastes, maybe our cookies will.”

Mona gasps next to you, Billie and Charlotte rise up from the floor, eyes wide and sparkling. “Cookies!” They all exclaim at the same time, tones excited and high.

“Chocolate chip?” Mona asks, shaking you slightly. Max sits on your lap unbothered, eating his own fingers.

“Of course, Mon-mon.” And with that, they're off scampering towards the kitchen.

“Your employees have no manners.” Hobie stands up before lending you a hand. He effortlessly yanks you up carefully, Max lays in your arms, looking up between your face and Hobie's.

“Maybe I should cut their pay.” You joke.

“The union won't like that, love.” Hobie presses his lips on your temple, letting his warmth linger on you.

“I guess the fine wouldn't be worth it.” You chuckle, sighing by his side. Gazing at Max, you bounce him gently, earning a three toothed smile from him. “He's so cute,” index brushing along his chubby cheek, baby Max grabs your finger, hugging it to his side. “Aww look at him.”

“You want one?” A smirk slowly curls around Hobie's lips, hand cupping your elbow as he leads you into the kitchen where the girls are patiently watching over the cooled tray.

“Careful, you said that when we babysat Mayday before we had the girls.”

“You said yes though.” With a smug laugh, he pecks your forehead one more time before helping the girls with their snacks.

[breannasfluff]

Behind the school, Kitty and Johnny are snarling at each other. 

“I swear, I wasn’t checking out the other ladies!”

“I saw you looking, Johnny! I have eyes of my own!”

“Babe, you’re the only one for me!”

Kitty slaps him. “Well, I don’t want you anymore!” Then she catches sight of Danny hovering above. “Come to gawk at this loser?”

He holds up his hands, ignoring the fact that they shake slightly. “No, I don’t want to get in the middle of your fight.”

Johnny revs his bike and Shadow spreads like a cape behind him. “You’re asking for a beating, punk! No one wants you here; this is between us!”

“There is no us!” Kitty looks ready to start slapping again. “Why can’t you get it through your thick, greasy head?”

Danny has far too much experience with fights to get in the middle of a lover's quarrel—again. Unfortunately, Johnny isn’t going to let him slide away. 

Leaving Kitty, still yelling, he spins his bike and accelerates at Danny.

The half-ghost, still weak from little food, doesn’t move. One second Johnny is on the ground, and the next he’s slamming into Danny. Did he teleport? Or is Danny’s reaction time just that slow?

Either way, the contact throws him against the brick wall of the school before he can go intangible. Something in his back cracks with the impact, sending a bolt of pain through him. Automatically, he sends a thread of ectoplasm to stabilize whatever was injured until his healing kicks in. 

Even this takes longer than it should. By the time Danny is back in the air, too many seconds have passed. Johnny has plenty of time to punch him or set Shadow on him. He does neither.

“Ghost kid?” Johnny sits on his bike, frowning at him. “You’re moving pretty slow, there.”

Danny glares, drawing ecto-energy to his fists in preparation for an attack. For a second there’s two Johnny’s before he blinks and they snap back together. Squinting slightly, Danny throws a blast. 

It fizzles out halfway there and they both watch the spark disappear. 

“Wow. That was pathetic.” Despite the insult, there’s something in Johnny’s eyes that puts Danny on edge. Not like he’ll attack, but like he’s seeing more than Danny wants him to. “You look like crap. Go take a nap, kid.”

“Can’t,” he grumbles, floating slowly to the ground. If Johnny isn’t attacking, he’ll save his energy from levitating. “Got school. Any chance you two can finish your argument somewhere else?”

Kitty’s face twists like she’s bitten into a lemon, but she climbs stiffly on the bike behind Johnny when he brings it down. “This dump sucks anyway. Let’s go.”

Danny lets the transformation drop as they leave but doesn’t go back into the school. Instead, he slumps against the rough brick and lets his head fall back. That’s the second ghost who’s given up without a fight and left. Is he really so pathetic-looking that he’s not worth the fight? Or are the ghosts planning something worse?

Read the rest here

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 10: Pride

Word Count: 998

Rating: G

Pairing: None

CW: Language

Summary: Corroded Coffin plays a gig at a fundraiser in Hawkins and Eddie understands what it's like to really make it. Part of my As You Wish universe!

@corrodedcoffinfest

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Jesus, have we ever played in front of this many people before?” Gareth asks as he shakes out his wrists to loosen them up. 

“Have we ever performed in front of kids before?” Jeff questions in response.

“Have you guys ever played in front of your own kids?” Frank follows up, being the only one in the band who doesn’t have any children yet. 

“Not like this,” Eddie says, fiddling with the knobs on an amp. 

Somewhere out in the crowd of around two hundred are Ryan and Luke, anxiously awaiting their father’s rock star moment. They’re standing somewhere with Brittany and Wayne, and more than likely, Gareth’s and Jeff’s families too. 

At first, Eddie was surprised that Brittany actually followed through on this event and didn’t invent a last minute excuse. But then it occurred to him—this is a family event, this fundraiser for the Hawkins Police Department. If she didn’t show up, then it wouldn’t look like the Munsons are the idyllic white-picket-fence family that Brittany likes to pretend they are to those who don’t know any differently. 

Brittany probably felt obligated the moment Jeff’s wife Nicole, an officer with the Hawkins PD, asked Corroded Coffin if they’d perform at the fundraiser. Eddie wasn’t dumb enough to believe she was here out of the goodness of her heart or because she wanted to see her husband play music onstage. 

“I can’t believe after all the times I had to deal with you guys as punk kids, I’m now about to introduce your band onstage.” Chief Hopper shakes his head and tosses his stub of a cigarette down on the ground, the toe of his boot digging the bud into the dirt. 

“Aw, come on, Hop,” Gareth says, letting his hand land heavily on the taller man’s shoulder. “It was just a few noise complaints when our rehearsals went on too long.”

Hopper flicks the brim of his hat up and raises his eyebrows at the drummer.

“Yeah, with you. Caught Dawson here speeding almost every other week,” the police chief says, nodding towards Frank. “And Munson…well, shit, there’s not enough time before you guys are due on stage for me to get into that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie mumbles, a small smile on his lips, “Jeff’s the golden boy. Still is.”

“That’s because his wife has a gun,” Gareth stage whispers, making Frank and Eddie laugh. 

The applause coming from the crowd out front signals that whoever was entertaining them has finished, meaning the guys are up. 

“Ready boys?” Hopper asks, looking around at the band members. Once he’s satisfied with their nods of confirmation, he heads out onto the stage to make the introduction. 

Feedback crackles before the chief’s deep voice booms over the speakers.

“Up next, we’ve got a band that’s been playing together in Hawkins for well over a decade now. You may recognize them from The Hideout or have even called into the station with a noise complaint about them.” There’s a rumble of laughter from the audience. “And one of the members is married to our very own Officer Nicole Samuels. Please welcome, Corroded Coffin.”

Hearing their band’s name being announced still gives Eddie a thrill, the blood in his veins buzzing with excitement, even after all this time. 

The moment his boots hit the stage, Eddie can hear two particular cheers above all others.

“Yeeeeeah! Corroded Coffin!”

“Yay, Daddy! Go Daddy!”

It’s by far the best welcome he’s ever gotten whilst making an entrance. 

As Eddie adjusts the microphone at the front of the stage, his eyes scan the crowd, and he sees a cluster of familiar faces. Two with extra enthusiasm make his mouth spread into a wide grin. 

Ryan is sitting on Wayne’s shoulders, small black Corroded Coffin t-shirt on, throwing his fists in the air and cheering for his father. Luke is in Brittany’s arms, squirming around like crazy as he waves to Eddie on stage. To Brittany’s credit, she’s grimacing against all the movement Luke is doing, but she’s still holding him up so he can see.

Around them are the other guys’ families, along with Steve, Nancy, Max, and Lucas. 

Eddie gives a wave to his boys as his bandmates get situated behind him. It’s impossible to wipe the smile off his face as he takes everything in: being back on stage, having a crowd of more than five, most of them actually sober, and having so many people he cares about in the audience. Especially his sons.

A surge of warmth crashes over Eddie and he can’t explain it any other way than pure happiness and pride. 

“Hello, Hawkins,” Eddie says into the mic, receiving another round of applause in response. “How we doing tonight?”

“GOOD!” 

Luke’s sweet, loud voice echoes above everyone else’s and Eddie can’t help but chuckle into the mic.

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

They open with Metallica’s version of Whiskey in the Jar. It’s his boys’ favorite song of the iconic band’s because of the fun lyrics that sound like nonsense when you sing along. Eddie knew right off the bat that this is the song he wanted to kick the show off with. 

As the part of the song that the boys like comes closer, Eddie finds them in the crowd and keeps his gaze locked on them.

Yeah, musha rain dum a doo, dum a da, ha, yeah

Whack for my daddy-o

Whack for my daddy-o

There’s whiskey in the jar, oh

The joy on Ryan and Luke’s faces brings Eddie a sense of rightness that he’s never felt before. It’s like something clicked into place within him that’s been waiting all these years to find where it belongs. 

I’ve made it, Eddie thinks to himself. Fuck a record label or a world tour. They don’t mean shit when his playing draws so much joy out of his sons. Nothing can top that. 

This is what making it feels like. 

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P7

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Medical stuff, family issues and Violence.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part ..... Next part >

You relax a little but keep your eyes on the two just in case, despite them keeping their distance and trying to make you feel safe you still don't trust them. "First I'd like to know exactly what you were told and who told you" Kid speaks up seeming angry about it, you somehow knew his anger isn't directed at you but it still makes you tense up a bit "Kid" Killer sighs shaking his head at his friend who jumps a little noticing he's made you go back to being tense. "It's ok… My parents told me when i woke up. They said i was kidnapped and held for ransom by Pirates when i was 19. They paid the money but I wasn't handed over and i was forced to work for them. I know i have bounty poster for being a part of the crew even if it was against my will. Urm… i think it was a few days ago, they said the pirates got into fight with the marines and there was an explosion, I was arrested but my parents manged to pull some strings so i was free to go and come here… I don't remember any of that though, i just woke up here… I don't even know where here is" You sigh looking over at the window, the world outside was nothing like your home but it wasn't scary, it actually felt better than being home. "Most of that is a lie" Kid scoffs getting angry that your parents would make up something like that but then again you did say they were awful people, Killer nods before shifting a little on the bed to fully face you "Your on Kyuka, an island on the grand line, we had to back track a bit to get some of our crew back and to come see you." Killer states watching as you nod before looking out the window.

You can't believe your on the grand line and you can't believe your parents came out here to get you, it makes you happy that they care enough to come for you. "We did take on a quite a few marine ships and there was an explosion while you were on one of their ships. It had explosives on it and you were steering it away from the Victoria Punk … Our ship, You got knocked into the water along with a few other crew member's and picked up by marines later on." The masked man continues watching as you nod along, that part matches what your parents and doctors told you, although these two seem to care a lot for you, the masked man even sounds worried when talking about the explosion, this brings one question to your head and a strange deep need to know the answer. "What's my relationship with you two?" You ask while looking down at your hand thats griped into a fist on your lap, you know there's more to all this, why would they come this far to get you if you were just a cash grab or a single member of their crew? Why do you feel so comfortable around them? Even though you know their pirates for some reason your convinced they won't hurt you or drag you away. Kid moves to sit on the bed getting you to look up at him, he goes to speak but Killer places his hand on the red head's leg "I don't know if you'll believe us" The masked man sighs as his head drops a bit seeming very unsure, Kid sighs and shakes his head putting his hand on top of the masked man's to comfort him "i want you to know, just don't freak out, please" The masked man continues, anticipation grows in you as your heart beets faster wanting to know now more than before.

Nodding at the two Kid looks back at you deciding he'll be the one to tell you since Killer seems too nervous about your reaction, "Us three are in a relationship together" He state hoping you will understand but you look between the two confused by his words, you kinda know what he means but you want him to be more clear. With a sigh the red haired man slowly moves his mental hand over to you and places it on your still clenched fist, a sense of relief washes over him when you don't pull away or flinch. You couldn't flinch away, you know he wouldn't hurt you on peruses but his hand was heavy making your fist press down onto your burned leg. Your hand shifts making him pull away in shock but you place your hand on the bed before looking up at him. "Elaborate" you state making Kid smile placing his metal hand back on yours as Killer let out a small huff of a laugh "You and your big words" Killer shakes his head, but he sounds happy which makes your heart flutter a little. "You've been a part of my crew for 7 years, Me and Killer have been together for 6 years. We didn't intend for anyone to join but" Kid gulps as his cheeks go red starting to get flustered over having to explain their relationship with you, noticing he's starting to struggle due to embarrassment Killer looks up at you and reaches over placing his hand on top of Kids mettle hand adding to the pile. Your heart pounds harder in your chest but its not out of fear, it makes you happy since you were right about the connection you feel with the two. You didn't think it would be this but you want nothing more than to hear them say how they feel.

Killer waits for your eyes to shift to him before speaking "We both fell in love with you and it took us a while to figure out what we wanted and to tell you… You felt the same, so us three have been together for 4 years now. It's a Poly relationship, we all love and care about each other" Killer finishes off for Kid the two staying quiet after to give you time to process, you may not remember being with them but it sounds so right, you know what a Poly relationship is but you never thought two people would love you and each other at the same time but your happy that it seems that way. Despite these feeling though, you still don't know them well enough to act on any of these feelings, when you know them more or remember more you can then rethink but for now its best to shove these feelings away. Just as you finish deciding what to do and how to answer your parents walk in along with the nurse from before whose apologizes over and over again to them "Get away from her" Your mother yells storming over to you as your farther glares at the two men "Get security" Your father order the nurse who jumps at his stern and angry tone. The two pirates don't move or take their hands off you not threatened by the two people who just walked in. "No, no, it's ok. I said they could stay" You pull your hand away from the two to quickly grab your mothers arm that was reaching for the empty glass vase on your side table. The nurse freezes in place not sure what to do and who to take orders off, your farther raises an eyebrow at you his anger being turned to you now as your mother looks at you in shock not only form your words but from realizing all the roses in the room are gone. Letting out a breath you try and calm yourself knowing what is going to come from the both of them, its best to keep calm in this situation.

Your Farther's abrasive voice cuts through the short silence, if you weren't so used to it then you would have jumped in shock "Y/N, these two are pirates, their the ones that-" Your farther glares at you but your blank eyes meets his stopping him from continuing "I know who they are. I know what you told me but i don't know what to believe. You're telling me one thing and their telling me another, I'd like to hear both sides before i make any kind of decision" You stay calm as you speak knowing getting angry with your farther or mother will make it less likely for them to hear you through their own anger. Your Farther takes a step towards you his eyes filled with rage that you would answer back, he looks like he's going to hit you but you know he won't, mainly because he didn't want to injure his hands. Kid growls low seeing that look on your farther's face and suddenly stand up his fists gripped ready to punch the man "I will kill you if you hurt her" In shock your quickly turn to look up at the red head whose eyes are glaring at your farther, no one has ever defended you against your parents before, everyone always takes their side. He didn't have to do anything, but he did, it sends a strange warm light feeling through your chest but in turn your head starts to hurt, it doesn't feel like a normal headache, the back of your eyes hurt as your head goes fuzzy, there's an image in your mind but it too blurry to make anything out. "Sweetie, they are dangerous, they took you from us, what ever they told you is a lie" Your mother whispers to you but you can't stop looking at Kid who's glaring back at your father, both refusing to back down from what ever mental battle is going on.

The more you look the clearer the image in your mind gets but your head hurts more and more, your ears start to slightly ring as tears well up in your eyes, not because your sad but because of the pressure building behind them. Killer manages to snap you out of your strange gaze by placing a gentle hand on your cheek, your head throbs but you look to meet his masked covered face "You ok?" Killer asks scooting closer his thumb rubbing under your eye wiping away a stray tear, even though he's wearing a mask you can tell he's concerned by his tone. Your mothers eyes widen at seeing you uncontinuously lean into his touch so quickly grabs your slung up arm "Get your hand off my daughter" She scowls while puling you away making you wince in pain grabbing onto your bandaged shoulder as pain shoots through your hole arm. "Don't pull, you'll hurt her.. Y/n you ok?" Killer growls at your mother before turning to you going back to that clam and kind voice, pulling away from your mother you rub your shoulder managing to calm the pain down a little, Killer reaches out to touch your cheek again hoping to comfort you but you push his hand away nit wanting touching you right now. "I'm fine" you finally state despite your head and shoulder throbbing, Your mother gives you a sad look before bending down to you "I'm sorry sweetie, i didn't mean to hurt you" She whispers seeming genuine in her apology so you look up at her and nod giving her a small smile letting her know it's ok. Your farther growl under his breath having enough of the situation "I want these two out of here now" Your farther orders to the nurse behind him but his eyes are glued to the red head who is still glaring back "We're not leaving unless Y/N wants us too" Kid replays as the nurse looks around the room unsure of what to do with all the different people saying different things.

Making his way around the bed towards the red-headed pirate your farther growls under his breath "My daughter has memory loss, she doesn't know what she wants" Your Farther yells only to be met head on by Kid who quickly storms over to the end of the bed getting in your farther face and towering over him, despite the clear intimidation your farther refuses to back down or break eye contact with the red head. "She may have memory loss, but she can still think for herself, she's a grown ass woman" Kid yells into your farther's face starting a yelling match between the two, your head throbs more making your vision go fuzzy, everyone voices fading in and out hardly able to make out the words being yelled. Seeing a glazed over look forming in your eyes Killer's quick to place his hand on your cheek but you slap it away much harder this time "SHUT UP" You yell making almost everyone in the room jump in shock turning their attention to you. "Please just go" You whisper while rubbing your head it starting to hurt less now that the noise has stopped, your mother gives you a happy smile, glad that you've finally agreed with them that the pirates should leave. Kid bites his tongue struggling not to continue yelling at your farther as Killer sighs standing up off the bed. "Well, hurry up and get out" Your farther steps aside gesturing towards the door for the two to leave, looking up at your farther you sigh knowing he didn't get what you were intending "You too" Your mother looks at you with wide eyes before bending down to your level "Sweetie-" she tried to say but you hold your hand up not wanting to hear it.

The nurse sighs knowing what she has to do for her patients sake, you are her patient and their for your comfort is more important "I'm sorry but visiting hours have long been over so please leave, you can come back tomorrow if she wants but if you kick up a fuss again I'll have no chose but to kick you out " She states stepping over to the bed giving you a slight nod, letting you know she's on your side. "That includes you too Mr and Miss Winslow" Your Mother goes to protest at this but your farther gabs her arm pulling her away from the bed "We will be coming back tomorrow and i hope by then you have your attitude fixed" You have to bite your tongue at your fathers comment, you wanted to berate him but it'll only make your head hurt again. "As for them, i don't want them near my daughter" Your mother pipes up looking over at Kid and Killer who haven't moving yet, although Kids fits are clenched at his side his flesh hand starting to turn white while his eyes burn into your farther, if looks could kill your father would be long dead. "Y/n? Is that what you want?" Killer calmly asks turning to you, You need to know more before you make a destitution on who to believe and the only way you'll get that is if you talk to all people involved. "I want you to come back, I-" You want to say more but your farther interrupts you making your head hurt with his sudden yell "Absolutely not" Kid storms over to your farther grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer almost lifting him off the group. "Will you let her speak for once, Gods no wonder she ran away, you over controlling narcissistic bastard" Kid yells only to be stopped by Killer who runs over and grabs the captains shoulder "That's enough, we should go, let Y/N rest. We can talk tomorrow and figure things out"

It surprises you how calm the masked man is and how easily he seems to control the situation, Kid lets go of your farther dropping him to the floor where he stumbles back while fixing his suit collar and tie. "I'm sorry Y/n, we'll let you rest" The masked man turns to you giving you a nod before grabbing Kids arm and tugging on it, The red head sighs before turning to you and rubbing the back of his head "Sorry for my out burst…. we'll see you tomorrow" You nod at his words although you did notice the slight redness in his cheeks, the nurse gives everyone a smile before gesturing towards the door getting everyone to leave. Once everyone's out the room the nurse closes the door and turns to you, making her way over she sits on the edge of the bed before pulling your shirt away from your shoulder to have a look at the bandage "I'm so sorry, i should have stepped in sooner" She whispers while checking for any sign that your wound has reopened but luckily it seemed fine, there's no blood and the bandage hasn't moved. Placing your hand on hers you look up to meet her eyes "It's ok… It's a strange situation and my parents are hard to deal with" You try and comfort her, you know there's also a big likely hood that your farther owns a percentage of this hospital so talking to him in any way other than with respect might get you fired. "Thank you for being on my side, its… rare" You admit pulling your hand away from hers letting her pull your shirt back over your shoulder.

The nurse takes your hand her small smile dropping as she thinks for a second, your about to ask her what's wrong when she starts talking. "I know it's not my place to say but your parents are right about them being dangerous. Eustass Captain Kid and Massacre Soldier Killer both have bounties over two hundred million, their part of the worst generation and ruthless… but on the other hand they do seem to care, they seemed genuinely worried and ready fight for you, it didn't seem like an act." She sighs not sure if she should be telling you all this but you squeeze her hand leaning forwards a bit while giving her a reassuring smile. "Thank you, I'll take any information is can get at this point, like i said before i don't know what to believe, the only thing i can go off is facts and some fuzzy images i can't make out" You state while rubbing your head trying to see that image again but it won't come back, the nurse nods and stands up letting go of your hand "I'll do what ever i can to help but for now I'll get you your meds and then you can rest" She turns leaving you alone in the room again, hopefully you can get more answers tomorrow and hopefully your parents will find your glasses so you can read something. Its so boring just sitting around or watching the dock where ships barely move. With a sigh you lean back against the bed while's placing a hand on your cheek, it still feels warm from Killer's touch it feels nice and you can still faintly smell Kid's cologne giving you a sense of comfort.

----- The Victoria Punk -----

The normally loud dinning room is silent something thats is very rare especially when almost the whole crew is gathered in there, Killer had just finished explaining why you weren't back with them which left the crew feeling deflated. None one spoke for a long while, most of them looking to their Captain hoping he has a plan or an idea but the red head just sat in his chair, his feet propped up on the table while his arms are crossed over his chest tightly. No one could tell what Kid was thinking or feeling, his eyes are angry but his face is blank as the captain stares off into space, with his mind clearly somewhere else Killer sighs crossing one leg over the other as he sits next to the red head. The masked man didn't know what to do, a part of him hopes that Kid will snap and just tell everyone we're grabbing you and leaving despite what they told you but he doesn't want to break any kind of trust or relationship that they have just formed. It's a miracle that you want them to come back, with a sigh Wire leans on the table looking over at his two friends, the room as been quiet for far too long and someone needs to take charge of the situation "So what do we do? Take her in the middle of the night?" The tall man asks knowing exactly what reaction he's going to get, the two men suddenly turn to look at him as they yell the same answer in anger "No" They both glare but soon release the small smirk at the corers of Wire's lips, its clear the tall man only asked that because it would snap them out of their own heads. "She stays until she agrees to come back and i ain't leaving her with those assholes so where staying… House, how long does it take for memories to come back?" Kid sates suddenly turning to the doctor who's messing with her fingers.

House gulps before slowly looking up at her captain knowing he isn't going to like the answer "I-i don't know, it could take a few days or months or years and in some cases… they might not come back at all" Her shoulders tense up as she says her last part, Kid growls while gritting his teeth but before he can start his out burst Killer steps in placing a hand on the captains shoulder giving it a hard squeeze "While were dealing with the situation i want everyone to be on high alert for marines, if her farther does have connection he might have called some in to get rid of us" The masked man states knowing that the crew is at risk, Kid sighs and nods in agreement "There should be several people on watch at all times and no one should leave the ship without permission, understand?" Kid calls out earning loud "yes Captain" from his crew which makes the red head smirk again, House raises her hand getting the two's attention before speaking "I was thinking that maybe i could join you two at some point. i want to look Y/n over, make sure she's healing well and maybe do some snooping around the hospital." She hopes they'll agree but by their thinking faces she feels like it's going to be less and less likely, luckily though they turn to each other and nod, silently agreeing on something "We'll bring it up to her and see if she agrees" Kid states hoping you'll say yes to having someone else look you over, the two don't want to overwhelm you with new people, and they also don't want another reason for your parents to bitch and moan causing you more pain and increasing the chance of a marine presence.

Through the conversation between the three a rhythmic tapping of fingers started to develop getting louder and louder, Heat has his teeth clenched as his fingers tap the table, lost in thought it was Wire who snaps hims out of it by bumping the stitched man's shoulder with his own "What's up?" The tall man whispers not wanting to interrupt Kid and Killer talking to the crew, Heat sighs and rubs his head while stopping the tapping he was uncontinuously doing "I know i've heard the last name before, Winslow, Winslow. uhhh, i-i just can't put my finger on it" The stitched man groans in frustration, its on the tip of his tongue but it just won't force itself any closer, Wire pats his friend on the back giving him some kind of reassurance, it would be nice to know who your parents are, but he doesn't want to put any more weight on Heat's shoulders. A few seconds later it finally hits the stitched man making his eyes widen in slight shock, cursing under his breath the room suddenly goes quiet all eyes turning to Heat since they know something has well and truly caught him off guard. "The Winslow family own a Drug distribution company that mainly castors to the marines and world government, a few years back they were also given a licence to make new drugs although that licence has since been revoked but i can't remember why. They also own several other big company's in weapons, fuel and have shares in others that have been handed down for generations… Their rich.. Like royalty rich"

The room goes completely silent at this no one knowing what to say about the situation, it normally wouldn't bother them if you came from a rich family but this is different, your family sells a lot of stuff to the marines and seems very buddy, buddy with them. It's true your farther can't fire a marine, but he can pull resources which will be disastrous for them so it's no wonder the commodore was so hell-bent on keeping quiet. "So what if her daddy's rich, the prick has no right" Kid growls flicking his hand in protests while leaning back in his chair but it seems some of the crew don't feel the same, they still want you back but being this rich and from a very well known family will bring its issues like it has now "I don't get it, she left and now years later they want her back, Why?" Mohawk asks a man how has been with the crew since the beginning and of course gets his name from the tall and thin orange Mohawk on his head "Something fishy is going on, i think it's a good idea to gave a few of us look into things" Narbe a man with two large scars down his face and over his eyes speaks up making the captain hum in thought, it would be good to get some info in order to have the upper hand, it also might help them in the future "Alright, you two and Heat your in charge of that but don't leave the island" The three smile giving their captain a nod happy to help out and also maybe rough up some people to get information.

[starlightshadowsworld]

For my Punk Kunikida headcanons I just imagine it coming about because Lil Kunikida was hiding out in some diner after a fight.

He was in so much trouble and yet he didn’t care. How was he supposed to just sit there while some kids beat to Katai? How could his parents and teachers tell him off for saving his friend?

The anger rolling off him was palpable and yet an older punk waiting on his friends noticed it.

He approached and kindly asked if Lil Kunikida was alright. Given the kid looked worse for wear and was by himself.

He’s dressed like all those delinquents Kunikida’s mum warned him to stay away from. And yet Kunikida doesn’t because this stranger was the first to ask if he was okay.

Even still Kunikida sits up a bit straighter. He tells the man the other guy looks worse, instead of scolding him the man chuckles warmly.

“Is that right? He must’ve done something terrible for you to bang up your hand like that.”

He asks the waitress politely for some ice and shows Kunikida how to tend to his hand. Saying he’s pretty lucky all things considered.

“Next time you’re going to throw a punch, which I’m definitely not telling you to do of course. Don’t put your thumb inside your fist.”

The man proceeds to demonstrate to Kunikida how to throw a punch. It feels rather surreal but Kunikida nods and makes a mental note of it.

“They were beating up my friend.” He says finally, it’s a both embarrassing and relieving time spill his guts to a stranger. The man listens patiently and smiles.

“Your friend’s lucky to have someone like you watching over him.”

“Really? You don’t think there’s something wrong me?”

The man shakes his head “nothing wrong, just a kid with a big heart protecting his friend. If you hadn’t stepped in, I hate to imagine what could’ve happened.”

He gently puts a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder “you did the right thing. Standing up for those who can’t defend themselves, protecting innocents is something we have to take into our own hands sometimes.”

He smiles sadly “but there’s a price for it because authorities don’t quite like that. You got into a fight at school so worst you’ll get is suspension. Other times it could be prison. Be careful with that heart of yours kid. I’d hate to see it break.”

Before he leaves, the man takes a pin off his battle jacket and gives it to Kunikida. It’s small but it has the symbol for anarchy.

“But you seem smart, smarter than I was at your age at least.”

Kunikida eventually went home to his panicked parents and panicked Katai. He was suspended and lectured but Kunikida knew he’d done the right thing.

He would never stop protecting those around him who couldn’t defend themselves. He couldn’t rely on the adults to always be right.

Years later Kunikida walks the streets of Yokohama with a spiked bat slung over his shoulders. His battle jacket is covered in pins and patches.

And right on his heart is the pin he received on that faithful day so long ago.

[analogwriting]

It Comes in Waves

Chapter 1: Tsunami

Trafalgar Law x gn!reader tw; ace's death. i know, we're starting off strong as shit. word count: 3k prev|next

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Portgas D. Ace. Also known as ‘Fire Fist Ace’ or even the commander of the second division for the Whitebeard Pirates. Also…a great friend of yours. A friend you had run into several times over your years at sea. A friend that let you cry on his shoulder and who had cried on yours. The memory of you meeting flashes in your mind. A simpler time. Before he had all his alternate titles. Before he was even his own captain. 

You were on a tropical island. It was small and reminded you of your home island, but it was just a pitstop for you to get rest and something to eat. You had hunted down some small wildlife and gathered some fruit that seemed to be edible before beginning to roast it over a fire you created. 

While it was cooking, you worked on setting up a place to sleep. However, you heard something from behind you. Pulling a knife from your belt, you threw it as you turned around. 

“Whoa! I come in peace!” An alarmed, male voice chimed. You turned to see a man standing there. He couldn't have been older than eighteen. So, more of a boy. You noticed that he dodged your attack well, so he wasn't a complete idiot. There was a small cut on his cheek. Not quite quick enough but still impressive. He was lucky it was a warning shot anyway.

“Well, maybe you shouldn't sneak up on someone.” You folded your arms, taking in the boy before you. Disheveled black hair, tanned skin, dressed like a punk. You could tell easily that he was a pirate, perhaps at the beginning of his adventure.

“I didn't really mean to. I was just following the delicious smell of food.” A wistful look crossed his face before he frowned. “A bird flew away with my food.” He looked at you with puppy dog eyes and you sighed, shaking your head. 

“Fine. I'll share. Consider it my apology for attacking you. I'm a bit on edge.” After all, you had just narrowly escaped the navy on your most recent heist. You wouldn’t have been surprised if they had somehow found you, even if they were pretty dense.

The man's face lit up, wasting no time as he plopped down next to the fire you had going. “I have some sake I can share.” You shake your head. You couldn't risk letting your guard down right now. “I'm fine. Help yourself.”

You moved to your food, beginning to divvy it up for the two of you. You handed him his share before settling with your own. “I'm Ace, by the way,” he said, a mouthful of food. 

You told your eyes at his lack of manners. “Y/N,” you said simply, beginning to eat. 

He asks you a couple more questions, but notices you guard some of your answers, so he maneuvers to more simple questions and talks about his own journey. He eventually brings up his little brother - a kid named Luffy. From the sounds of it, he seems quite the handful. He mentions how he's the world's biggest crybaby, but he wants to become King of the Pirates. 

You can't help but feel admiration for the kid who has yet to set sail.

You knew just about everything there was to know about one another. He is your best friend.  And now, it looked like everything was going belly up for him. You were about to lose one of the few people you held close. Again. Why did you have to keep losing people you cared about?

You stared at the video that was being casted from a transponder snail in Sabaody. You were there taking care of a few loose ends from your most recent mission. It dawned on you just how long it had been since you'd seen Ace. You'd been cracking down on your own agenda, not exactly keeping up with current events. It had easily been…at least six months? 

You noticed another familiar face on screen. Monkey D. Luffy. Captain of the Strawhat Pirates and Ace’s baby brother. The one he had told you about and the one you had eventually met on your own. One that you ran into often just like you had Ace.

You had just seen Luffy and his crew not too long ago. It was right here on Sabaody. They helped you take down a human auction house. They were saving a friend of theirs and this was something you did on the regular. Freeing slaves and making slaveholders suffer. Celestial Dragons hated you, and you hated them.

You had been doing this for about a decade, so you had a pretty high bounty - close to a billion. However, you have always been extremely careful to cover your identity. You had a whole disguise set up. A special cloak that covered all of your features. That’s all they had photo evidence of. Your first and last name donned the poster, but you went by your middle name on your average day. You lived a double life that no one knew about.

No one except Ace that is.

You're pulled out of your thoughts as you hear voices begin to raise. You blinked, coming back to earth and looking around. That’s when you realize the videofeed had been cut off. Everyone was starting to raise their questions and concerns. What the hell was going on now? What happened to Ace? To Luffy? You heard those questions being asked around you, so you knew the feed cut before anything happened.

“I need to get out of here,” you mumbled to yourself. You needed to get to Marineford and fast. Unfortunately, your boat that was akin to Ace’s striker, your ‘navis’ as you called it, was much too slow to get there in time. “Even if I call to the sea…” No, still too slow. Time was against you. You cursed silently to yourself, feeling yourself beginning to unravel. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be losing him.

That's when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You tensed. Knife in hand, you turned around quickly, pressing it to the throat of whomever was dumb enough to lay their hands on you. It didn’t matter if all around was chaos. You didn’t even care if this had been any other day. You weren’t a fan of being touched by strangers. Who was?

The owner of the heavily tattooed hand was tall. You were face to face with his chest. A logo of some smiling jolly roger. You looked up, glaring at the man only to find him glaring right back at you. Who did he think he was? He was the one that touched you. Not the other way around.

You took note of the long sword he carried and his lanky frame. Did he even know how to wield this sword correctly? Or use it in general? Your eyes trailed to his at before resting once more on his face. Something…felt familiar. Had you seen him before?

“You greet everyone like this?” There was a hint of a smirk that was just enough to make you want to punch him. His calm demeanor he had whilst you had your knife to his throat also drove you mad.

“Just those that touch me without permission.”

He took his hand away, putting them both up in a surrender motion. “Apologies.” He looked at you once more, taking you in. There was a hint of recognition in his eye and he looked like he wanted to ask something before deciding against it. He looked up to where the video feed had been.

“You know him?” Then he glanced back at you.

You stared at him, blinking several times as you processed his question. You tried to form words but nothing was coming to you. Too many questions were trying to pour out all at once. All that came out was, “What?”

“Well, I'm heading that way and you seemed pretty distraught about it so I figured I'd offer a ride in my submarine.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Who the hell just did something like that? “You don't seem like the kind of person who does things out of the kindness of his heart.” There had to be some hidden motive. Some other reason that he wanted to offer a ride. Was this some kind of human trafficking ploy? They sure were getting creative these days. It was disgusting.

“Suit yourself,” he said, turning away. What if he was just offering out of the kindness of his heart? Or maybe there was some hidden motive but…you couldn’t risk it. You had to save Ace. You had to save Luffy. Or die trying. “Okay, fine.” He turned, looking as you spoke, smirking. “That’s what I thought.”

Oh, this was going to be a nightmare. Your fist just might up in his jaw. Why would someone just offer a stranger a ride into a war just on a whim? And why were you accepting it? You had to be just as crazy.

“Let's go then,” he said, once more pulling you out of your thoughts. 

Silence fell over the two of you as you walked, delving once more into your own mind. Would you make it on time? Could you save your friends? Why was this man helping you? Why were you trusting him? Is it because you had nothing left to lose? If you lost Ace and Luffy…you’re not sure what you’d do. They were the closest thing you had to family since…

“We’re here.” You were yanked back to the present as the man in front of you spoke. Your eyes landed on the yellow submarine. You blinked. That’s right…he had said that. It was just registering that he had mentioned it earlier. You were such a mess, you didn’t even question it. What the hell was a pirate doing with a submarine?

“Last chance to turn around. You’re stuck once the door closes.” The man smirked at you and you felt the need to punch him in the nose. You didn’t even bother saying anything as you headed inside. There was no turning back now. This was your only chance to reach your friends in time. 

You were told to keep close to the man, which you didn’t argue. You assumed he didn’t trust you…though he invited you on his ship? This whole situation was weird.

You found yourself thinking of Ace again. It was only natural. Currently, you had no idea if he was alive or dead. You hoped for the best but expected the worst. God, it was like that theory about a cat in a box. Without seeing him, you had no idea if he was alive or dead.

Memories flashed in your brain as if they happened yesterday. When you met Ace’s crew for the first time. When you met his second crew. All the nights you stayed up drinking with him. (You had eventually given in and trusted him enough to let your guard down.) You remembered when you told him that you finally met his brother on the sea. Man, he was so excited and positively radiant after hearing that news. He had immediately set out to go find him shortly after that. 

All of those memories passed through your mind, each one of them hurting you more and more. It was almost too much to handle. You had already lost so much and you thought that you were done feeling this way but…here it was again. It hurt…so much. It was never easier. No matter how many people you saw that you cared about die before you…it never got easier. You tried your best to keep your distance from people but Ace was warm both inside and out and it slipped past your defenses faster than you could blink. He introduced you to a new family. 

Many times he asked you to join the Whitebeard Pirates and you told him the same thing each time.

“I still have too many things to take care of on my own.”

The man scoffed. “C'mon! You say that every time, y/n! If you join us, we could help you!” You looked at him, shaking your head. “You know this is something I have to do on my own. The less people involved, the better. Besides, you promised me you wouldn't tell anyone or try to get involved in any way.”

Ace whined, folding his arms. “Yeah, but that was before you told me what you were up to!” He rolled his eyes, clearly unhappy with you. You frowned, sighing. It was the same argument every time you parted ways. He wanted you to join his crew so that he could help you wish your mission, but you couldn’t bear to see anyone else you care about die.

He looked at you again and sighed. “I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't push you.” He looked down to his feet, unfolding his arms. 

Your own face softened and you shook your head. “Don't say sorry, it's not your mistake.” He looked at you as you said those words, chuckling softly. You said them every time he apologized. It was your way of saying that it was okay. That the feelings he was feeling were valid. That his emotions and actions caused by them were valid. It was something that your father had always said to you when your emotions were too much and you were apologizing for things that were out of your control.

“I may join one day…” You paused. 

“It's just not the right time yet, I know,” Ace finished for you. You offered an apologetic grin and he returned with his own, warm one. 

“We're here.” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts once more and you looked at the man who you boarded this vessel with. It was then that you realized that you didn't know his name. You opened your mouth to ask when he interrupted. 

“There's a war going on out there. Be vigilant.”

You nodded, closing your mouth. Now wasn't the time for formalities. You felt a sinking feeling in your chest - something wasn’t right. 

As you headed to the top deck, you felt your chest growing heavier and heavier. This was bad. You could hear all the pain from outside already. You could feel the anguish. It was almost too much to bear. It was enough to make your head spin, to make you want to lose the lunch you didn’t have.

When the door opened and you stepped outside, you were taken back. Taken back to when your own people were taken from you. The sounds of fighting, the smell of blood and metal in the air. The screaming, the anguish. You wanted to scream yourself. It was almost too much to bear. Even though it was over a decade ago, it still had an iron grip on you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of blue. You looked over slowly, noticing blue flames. Marco. He was Ace’s crewmate. He caught your eye, a dark look of guilt passing over his face before looking away. It was a moment, but that was all you needed to confirm your suspicions.

You suddenly felt like you couldn't breathe, like something just sucked all the air out of your lungs. Your legs felt shaky and you felt sick. The world was spinning. Ace was gone. A man you loved like a little brother. Gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back. You were going to be sick.

“Y/n!” You blinked, looking up and seeing the man you had traveled with. “Get it together!” He motioned across the battlefield and that's where you saw Luffy. It was like something sparked inside of you. You were suddenly able to move again. He was your lifeline right now. You needed to focus on saving him. He wasn’t gone yet. 

You nodded at the man before you before turning back to look at your friend. You could tell he was completely shut down. It reminded you of yourself all those years ago. You’d lost everyone you loved and completely shut down. You don’t remember what happened while you were shut down. You were on autopilot for so long. Barely living.

You noticed he was in the arms of a fishman. Ally? You had to hope so or this was going to be difficult. Seeing how he was heading straight towards the submarine and the man waving them down, it seemed safe to assume an ally. Then you saw an admiral attack them. You ran towards the edge of the deck, pressing a hand to your necklace and withdrawing a long spear. You outstretched your free arm, taking aim right over the fishman’s shoulder and throwing it.

It flew through the air, hitting the admiral in the shoulder. Not near enough to kill him but at least enough to deter him for a few moments so the fishman and Luffy could make it safely on board. The next thing you knew, you were ushering the wounded into the submarine and to the infirmary.

“You look like you know about basic medicine,” the man said, laying the two men on operating tables. 

You nodded, unable to really speak. “I can't hear your head rattle,” he said. 

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, taking a deep breath. Your father was a doctor, after all. You studied under him and read many of his textbooks. You’d also been on your own with no doctor all this time, so you had plenty of time to study and put your skills to use.

“Good. Then you're going to help me.”

And with that, the operation began.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Liability Part 3

Pairing: College Student!Rafe Cameron x Cousenlor!Reader

Summary: Rafe comes stumbling and stuttering into the Readers workplace unannounced, hammered, and ready to give her a run for her money. Except the night ends with Rafe following her home like a lost puppy.

Warnings: Angst, intoxicated!Rafe, swearing, flirty talking.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/n: I love this part because I love whiney men. So does @tee-swizzle, shoutout to that hottie.

Part 1 ; Part 2

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I mutter, eyes bulging out of my head as I quickly ring up the customer in front of me with the most sincere smile I can muster. I shove their receipt in their direction before quickly moving to the end of the bar as I reach up to rub my eyes, double checking to see if my eyes are deceiving me. 

I watch as Rafe and another man stumble into the bar with wide smiles until they come face to face with my extremely protective bouncer Rob, who happens to be twice the size of both of them. I’m quick to step in between the both of them with a huff, pressing hands against Rafe and Rob’s chests.

“You know this punk?” Rob asks, not bothering to look down at me as he stares Rafe down, thick brows furrowing together as I shove him away. He holds his hands up in surrender as my eyes flicker to Rafe, stomach churning at the boyish smile spread across his cracked lips.

“I counsel this ‘punk’.” I huff, folding my arms over my chest as Rafe grins, head tilting cutely at me.

“Hey doc.” He mutters, gruff voice sending shivers shooting down my spine. There’s a large gash on his cheekbone and a dark bruise forming under his eye, blue eyes ringed with a red tinge and a frown tugs on my lips.

“Rafe, I’m not serving you-”

“He doesn’t need any more.” His friend to the left of him laughs and mutters, ‘Josh’ under his breath, connecting the dots in my own head. The quarterback. 

“Any more? He’s been drinking?” I ask, reaching out to wrap my fingers around Rafe’s wrist, pulling him towards me and away from Josh who’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips. He just gives me a dumb shrug and reaches over to pat Rafe who’s dumbstruck eyes are stuck on me.

“I thought that was obvious given the fact he hasn’t been able to look up from your tits.” My knees wobble beneath me and my lips part in quiet shock as I lift my gaze up to look at a blushing Rafe who averts his eyes from me the second I catch him staring. He breathlessly mutters a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ under his breath and he reaches up to rub the back of his neck bashfully.

“Do you want me to remove him?” Rob mutters behind me but I just shake my head, reaching up to fist some of my hair as my mind races with thoughts. I could let him stay, let me stare at me for the rest of the night and be a permanent distraction or I could kick him out and tell him to go sleep it off and tell him that I’ll see him tomorrow. 

But the pitiful look he’s giving me, the kicked-puppy, ‘please help me, I’m sorry I’m pissing you off’ look makes me fold almost instantly.

“No- fuck, no. Just…” I pause before shoving a finger into Josh’s chest. “Don’t let him out of your sight. I have customers to take care of.” 

It took nearly two hours for Rafe to stop looking at me from across the room, him and Josh tucked safely into a corner booth where Rob can keep an eye on the both of them so I can go about my shift and take care of the desperate and needy customers across the bar.

The amount of people in the small bar has diminished significantly in the last half hour, drunks finding their way to taxi’s or begging their significant others for rides. The only noise now is the sound of snoring coming from the man at the far end of the bar, fingers loosely wrapped around the frosty, yet empty, glass in front of him.

“You are so fucking pretty.” My head snaps up from the sink in front of me to see Rafe gazing at me from across the far, forearms resting against the sticky bar and a dopey smile spreads across his lips. 

“You’re so fucking drunk, Rafe.” I laugh, sliding a glass of water towards him and he takes it gladly, sucking down in a moment's notice. He lets out a deep, strained breath, giving me an appreciative nod of approval. I toss a rag over my shoulder and give him a sideways look, almost asking him what he’s doing here but instead he just snaps his fingers and points a finger at me.

“I wanted to tell you, I’m not a manwhore.” He claims with hooded eyes, his words slurring together.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, flattening my palms on the counter in front of me, leaning forward towards him. I can’t ignore the way his eyes venture south the minute the V of my shirt dips as I inch towards him and I also can’t ignore the audible gulp that leaves him at my subtle change of position.

“If I was as skilled as you claim, then I would have no issue talking to you.” He explains but he doesn’t do too good of a job convincing me that he has absolutely no issues talking to me when he’s red in the face and stumbling over his words. Typically, I wouldn’t be able to exploit or point out his awkwardness in our sessions but here? Like Rafe would say, it’s completely off the record. 

“Well, we’ve discussed your issues with older women.” I tease, sending him a wink from across the bar, deeming the amount of space between us- the three feet of solid wood- a good enough barrier to keep me from stepping a bit too far over the line. 

But what is the line?

Where even is it because as I stare back at him, blue eyes flickering between my own, there’s nothing resembling any sort of boundaries between us other than the bar.

When we’re in sessions together, we flirt, sure, but to have him in my environment where I’m comfortable and confident- it’s a whole other ballgame- a dangerous ballgame. There are no rules here, no one’s looking over my shoulder, no ones mandated to be here.

We’re two consenting adults, out in the world. 

“You’re not that older than me and I know for a fact that you think I’m hot.” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is, duh) and I can feel heat rising to my cheeks, eyes flickering away from him. “See?”

“Rafe, I’m three years older than you-”

“And that makes you a cougar.” He coos in a teasing voice, pulling a disgusted scoff from me.

“Rafe?” I ask, pouring him another glass of water, handing it to him before pointing to the barstool beside him. He gives it a sideways glance before glancing innocently back up at me as my lips fan out into a strained smile, tired of his accurate, yet annoying, teasing. “Shut up and sit down.”

“Yes ma’am.” He looks a bit like a deflated kicked puppy as he slides down onto the bench, running his fingers down his scalp with a deep breath, cheeks puffed out. He nurses the glass of water for a few minutes, sneaking glances at me as I serve other customers, sending fake smiles their ways before instantly deflating the minute they look away from me.

I feel like I’m babysitting Rafe on top of already babysitting the drunk, fumbling idiots tonight. 

When I get a free second, I look up to look for Josh, wondering if he’s sober enough to go home and take Rafe with him or, in the worst case scenario, I could offer the both of them a cab if he’s unable to drive. But when I look over at the booth that the two of them were sitting at, Josh is nowhere to be found and I begin to ask myself the question of why Rafe came up to the bar in the first place if Josh was still here.

“Wait…” I mutter, looking at Rafe with slitted eyes. “Did Josh leave?” I hiss, watching a nervous look pass through his expression and his head tilts to look back at the abandoned booth.

“Yeah, we had a party with one of the sororities. I didn’t want to go, I wanted to come here.” He explains simply, eyes softening as he looks up at me and I pause, heart melting at his sincerity.

He wanted to see me.

“Well that’s sweet, I’ll admit that. But how will you get home?” I quiz, flattening my hands against the bar as Rafe fumbles around in his pockets, brows knitted together, before coming up short.

“Josh has my keys and he drove.” 

“Fuck.” I mutter, fisting my hair once more as I look around at the crowd surrounding the bar, waiting for me to take their orders. I send a frantic look to my coworker and she gives me a firm nod before diving into taking orders. 

“It’s alright- I’ll figure it out.” He reassures but my head shakes almost immediately, worried that he would try to drive home or find Josh and just get even more drunk. Though I'd rather do my job and see him tomorrow, I'd rather make sure he's safe and not too terribly hung over for our session tomorrow.

“No, I’m not just going to let you wander around aimlessly or let you couch hop.” He pouts at my disagreement, lips parting but I cut him off before he can argue with me. “Just- can you wait till the end of my shift?” I ask with a huff, looking up at the clock behind me to see that I’ve only got about an hour of my shift remaining.

“Why?”

“I’ll take you back to my place.” A few beats pass, hesitancy passing across Rafe's expression as his eyes widen and a look of giddy excitement breaks across his face.

“Can I meet your cats?”

“Yeah honey, you can meet my cats.”

 ——

“I really expected you to be a jeep type of girl. Never would’ve expected an old Ford Bronco, though.” Rafe laughs and pats the hood of my car, fingers trailing slowly against the side as he opens the driver's side door for me. Chivalrous? I slip past him and down into my seat as he bobbles on his feet. “I mean it when I say you just keep getting cooler.” He chuckles, making his way around the car so he can fall down into the passenger seat with a sigh, sucking in a deep breath of air before pressing a hand to his chest.

“Thanks Rafe.” I laugh, starting the car up while stealing glances of him out of the corner of my eyes, worried that he’s suddenly overcome with nausea just by the look on his face. “Stick your head out the window if you’re going to barf.”

“Not going to barf.” He shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips and he lets out a shameless hiccup. “I have a stomach of steel.” He grumbles through a burp and I roll my eyes, lowering his window a bit as a look of relief passes over him.

“What did you drink anyways?” I ask, pulling away from the bar, leaving all of the stress of the last few hours in my cars wake.

“I just took whatever shot Josh handed me.”

“Well that’s fucking stupid.” I snort, turning the car ever so slowly as Rafe rummages around in my glove box, pulling out a single stick of gun before shoving it into his mouth.

I bite back a giggle, always assuming that Rafe can't get any sillier until he does. It’s wholesome to see him like this- though inconvenient that it’s under the influence of alcohol- it’s nice to see him laid back and playful and not his typical stoic behavior. 

“I just needed to let go after my dad left.” He mutters vaguely and all too casually, lips tugging down into a frown and I pause at a stop light, glancing over at him with a frown.

“He came to see you?”

“Yeah. He always knows where to find me. And I think my sister drove him, which is almost worse.” My brows furrow at the thought of Wheezie being behind something that caused Rafe so much physical and mental pain but he just shakes his head, waving my concerns off. “Sarah, not Wheezie.” 

“So you do have other siblings.” I ask, heart thumping wildly against my ribs at the thought of him potentially opening up to me more and more, etching at his intoxicated walls with ease.

“Sober me would not be chill with drunk me giving out this information for free.” He tuts with a smirk, sticking his nose out the window to breathe in the fresh air as the green light in front of us reflects on his face. 

“Is Sarah a daddy's girl?” 

“To a pitiful fault.” He scoffs, jaw tensing hard and his eyes flutter shut.  “He’d do anything for her.”   

“What about your mom?” He shakes his head almost immediately as the world leaves my lips and I frown, heart hurting in my chest once more. His story just keeps getting sadder and sadder.  “Oh.”

“I have a Rose. My stepmom from hell who hates just about everyone but my dad.” He grits, the frowns on both of our faces only deepening as he peers over at me, sensing the tension that’s swarming between us in the car.

“So you really just have Wheezie, huh?” I ask but he just shakes his head, snapping himself out of his gloomy mood, hand reaching over to clasp my free hand that’s not on the wheel, my heart aching for a completely different reason now.

“And you.” He whispers nervously, his eyes not meeting mine as he stares out the window.

“I meant like your family.”

“I know.” How fucking sweet is that? 

Did Rafe just acknowledge me as someone he considers family? Yes. Am I going to bring it up later when he’s stone cold sober and can’t avoid me? For fucking sure, you betcha.

 “I see you more and talk to you more than any of them, including Wheezie.” He explains, fingers still linked with mine as if they’ve belonged there the whole night and I don’t make any effort to push him away, instead I just squeeze his hand as I turn the corner, hiding my stupid smile as best as I can.

“That’s kind of sweet.” I whisper but it goes over his head, drunken eyes locked on me, stuck on me, as his tongue sweeps out across his lips. “I’m gonna bully sober you for this.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Me too.”

By the time we get to my apartment building, I’m itching to ask him who caused the deep bruises on his face and who’s caused all of his emotional turmoil that I’ve gathered since the start of our sessions months ago.

If anything that he told me about his family is true, I can guess who it is but to hear him say it would open the door for me to ask more about his dad.

He seems relaxed, tucked into the heated seat beneath him as his eyes follow all of the lights passing outside the car, a drunk, calm smile on his lips. I don’t want to ruin the moment but a part of me feels that, if I don’t ask now, I won’t have the opportunity to ask again.

“Who beat the shit out of you, Rafe?” I ask, parking the car and unbuckling before turning to look at him, his expression dropping in the dim light coming from my apartment building. He pauses, lip tucking between his with a sigh and he reaches up to run his hand along his scalp.

“Good ol’ dad.” He mutters sarcastically and I reach out to tilt his chin towards me so I can get a better look at his cuts and bruises, my heart aching painfully in my chest at the thought of him hurting.

“Your dad did this?” I ask, fingers lingering briefly on his jaw but he just bats me away, brows lifting as a scoff escapes him. 

“Big shock, I know.”

“Why?” I ask, ignoring his sass, settling my hands in my lap so I don’t reach out to him once more but- the truth is- I want nothing more than to reach out to him, to wrap my arms around him in the small space of my car, to engulf him in a hug that manages to take all of his pain away.

But instead, I stick to myself.

“He found out about my mandatory sessions with you from a text with Wheezie.” He admits, sucking in a deep breath of air before shrugging.  “I-I don’t blame her, ya know? She’s just a kid.”

“Rafe…” I whisper, catching his attention and his eyes flicker up to mine, brows briefly pulling together as if my worry confuses him. Maybe he’s never had anyone worry about him before. 

“What?” He asks, pausing briefly but, after a moment, a look of realization passes across his expression and a small bashful laugh leaves him. “Oh, it’s fine, sweetheart. I can take it.” He brushes me off, but the smile on his lips is nothing but pained and, if I stare long enough, I can see tears pooling in his eyes.

“I don’t doubt that, I just-” I hesitate, not wanting to make him more upset or start an argument with him when he’s already reeling and intoxicated. “Should I be worried?” 

“If you want to be.” He laughs, giving me a sad smile as his head leans back against the headrest, soft eyes flickering back and forth between mine.

“Do you want me to worry about you?” I ask and it seems to be the breaking point for him because he sniffles and gives me a small nod, reaching up to dig his fists into his eyes, rubbing away his tears. 

“It would be nice for someone to.”

 ——

“This is cute.” Rafe mutters, stepping into my apartment as I lock the door behind us, kicking my shoes off to the side as he wanders around. “I thought there’d be more plants.” He laughs, finger poking at a fake plant on my dining room table, red eyes flickering back to me. “Your office has a lot of plants.” 

“I can’t keep plants alive for the life of me.” I giggle, pinching the plant to show him how fake it is and his head dips back in laughter, his blushing cheeks seen in the dim light above him. I sway awkwardly for a moment as he leans against my counter, eyes trailing over me. There’s a weight to his gaze, one that makes me want to curl in on myself and hide from him but I can’t move.

“That’s ironic since your job is to talk a bunch of morons out of killing themselves.” He teases, kicking off of my counter to step up to me, my own feet walking backwards until I hit the wall. He doesn’t stop until our toes touch and the air sucks from my lungs at his proximity and, with there no longer being a bar between us, keeping us apart from one another, it’s game on. Who’ll break first. “You’re so pretty.” His voice cracks, fingers brushing against mine. 

“Rafe-” I start but the words fall flat, stuck on the tip of my tongue and my mind blanks as his blue eyes flicker back and forth between mine, hanging onto every potential word that can leave my lips. He looks just so ready for me to talk to him, for me to open up, to step over the obvious line I’ve drawn between us but now that line is just muddled and broken.

“This is off the record.” He whispers, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake as he brushes them up my arm, all the way up to my cheek. His hand splays across my cheek, cool palm against my heated skin and I gasp, heart stopping in my chest. He’s never been this close, he’s never touched me for this long and now that he is, there’s a part of me that never wants to let him go. “I think you’re so beautiful.” Even if I tried, I can’t seem to bite back the grin that spreads across my lips and my hands reach up to fist his shirt in my hands, grounding myself to him and reality. This has to be a dream, some twisted, fucked up fantasy that my brains created. He’s been all I’ve thought about for the last three months, how could I not see him in nearly everything I do. 

But this isn’t a dream, not with the way that he’s looking at me, not with the weight of his hand against my cheek and the way his thumb drags over the crease beside my eye- he’s here, though he reeks like alcohol, he’s here.

“And I could go on and on for hours about what I think about you. B-But I wanna know what you think about me.” 

“Why?” His hand trails, moving to rest on my shoulder and my knees wobble as his thumb brushes against my collarbone, shamelessly dipping under the neckline of my shirt. His eyes don’t move from mine though, even with his fingers dancing across my bare skin, he wants nothing more than to capture every fleeting, flustered look passing through my gaze as I stare up at him. 

“I read somewhere, uh, that people who are abused as kids crave validation when they’re older.” He stutters out, eyes finally breaking from mine to follow the tips of his fingers as he traces along my skin. 

“So you want validation?” I ask, hands splaying flat against his chest, attempting to put some distance between us so I can focus on the weight of his words because I can’t seem to think straight with him this close to me, practically breathing in every choked exhale that escapes me. “About what?”

“Anything and everything.”  

“You’re a needy drunk, Rafe.” I giggle, attempting to be playful but my expression drops as he leans in close to me, nose brushing against mine.

“You have no clue.” I would usually make fun of him for sounding so pathetic but the way that his words almost sound like he’s begging and, if I didn’t know him better than that, I’d say that’s exactly what he’s doing. His eyes, though hooded, are focused on me and his lip is jutted out in a small pout. His hand trails down to rest on my waist, fingers slipping beneath my shirt to rest on my bare waist and a shiver runs down my spine.

“You really want to fix that whole paygrade predicament don’t you?” I ask, letting myself go just enough to slide my hands up the expanse of his chest to rest on his shoulders, fingers briefly squeezing the tense muscles that seem to relax under my touch.

“Desperately.” He whispers. “I wanna know shit about you- and, I know, Wheezie told me to go about this a little more sober and a bit less, uh, needy. But, without alcohol, I genuinely can’t talk to you, face to face, I-I mean.” He rambles, sucking in a big gulp of air.

“How drunk are you?” I ask, biting at my bottom lip and he grins handsomely. 

“Drunk enough.” I pause, collecting my thoughts as he waits patiently, hanging onto every breath that escapes me as his hand slips further beneath my shirt, moving to trail his fingers along my spine, pulling me impossibly closer to him. With our chests pressed together, it’s even harder to think and I feel myself in a comfortable state of claustrophobia.

“I think you’re wildly intelligent.” I whisper, hand snaking around the back of his neck to drag my fingers along his scalp, pulling a low groan from him. A car passes by my window, illuminating Rafe’s face for a moment and, if I would’ve blinked or glanced away, I would’ve missed the small blush that dances across Rafe’s skin.  “And I think you’re wildly handsome.”

“You already told me I’m handsome though.” He whines with a playful smile, leaning down to press a simple kiss to my cheek, the action making my stomach flip in all different sorts of directions, my head spinning and my eyes shamelessly flutter shut.

“Well, what do you wanna know?” I ask, head thumping against the wall as his lips travel down my jaw, barely kissing me but instead just skimming along my skin until his nose brushes against the shell of my ear. My lip slips between my teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood but it’s the only way I can keep the plethora of noises that desperately wish to escape me.

“If you feel the same way when we’re in the same room together?”

I know I should push him away, tell him and his husky voice to leave me alone and that this shouldn’t be happening between us, that we shouldn’t be flirting and letting this come between his possible healing but I can’t seem to get myself to the point where I actually say stop because no part of me actually wants him to stop.

“How?” I ask but I know exactly what he means because I’m feeling it- feeling him- right now.

“Like you have bugs crawling under your skin, o-or like your heart is beating so hard that it feels like it could break your ribs.” There’s a grin in his voice, I can hear it as he speaks and his hand coming to rest on my cheek again forces my eyes open so I can gaze up at him, feeling so small in his grasp. “Like you could just lean over the table and…” He trails off, eyes flickering briefly down to my lips and I pause for a moment, brain fogging over as I’m completely and utterly consumed by the fact that he could kiss me right now- he could do worse than kiss me- and I would do nothing about it.

“And what-”

“I really wanna kiss you right now.” He pleads, slotting his leg between mine as I let him hold me against the wall behind us, and I find myself nodding before I can even get the words out. I’ve never wanted anyone to kiss me more than right now- all of my other kisses have been fleeting, one night stands, random guys from college kissing me in the middle of a frat party- but nothing has ever felt like this. The anticipation, the waiting, the mutual need to just be close to one another- it’s sickening in all of the best ways. 

Ways I never thought I would experience.

“Rafe.” I moan, nails dragging against his scalp and he groans, chest rumbling as his fingers push my hair behind my ears before using his thumbs to tilt my chin so his lips are only inches from mine.

“Please let me kiss you. You can be mad at me tomorrow when I’m sober.” God, he said please. 

“I-” I pause, throwing caution out the window. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks with a timid laugh, wide eyes almost double checking that I actually agreed, scared to do anything without my complete and utter consent. “Fuck, okay.” 

He’s slower than I would’ve anticipated, blue eyes not closing until the last minute when his lips touch mine in a gentle peck, testing the waters before diving back in. His strong hand against my cheek leads the kiss and I let him, letting my body curve into his as he dips me gently over his forearm that’s snaked around my waist. He feels nervous, heart pounding against his chest so hard that I can feel it against my own ribs- or maybe it’s just my own heart racing. He hums quietly and goes to pull away but I don’t let him get far, chasing his lips desperately, clinging to him now that I finally have him so close. He lets out a shocked moan as I deepen the kiss, tongue skimming against his lower lip, tasting the alcohol on his tongue as a shameless giggle leaves me.

His forehead rests against mine as we catch our breath, his eyes still shut and I allow mine to sweep over his expression, loving the soft smile on his lips that grows with every peck that I place on his lips. He looks so tired all of a sudden, the deep bruise under his eye worsening with every passing moment but he doesn’t seem to mind the cut on his lip anymore even though it’s open and bleeding once more. His tongue sweeps out, a small hiss leaving him at the taste of blood and his eyes finally open. A green film passes across his expression and I find myself pushing him away from me as he sucks in a deep breath.

“If you’re going to throw up, please don’t do it in my mouth.” I giggle but he just sways on his feet, hands reaching out to my hips to settle himself. 

“I need to sleep.” He mutters, reaching up to rub his eyes like a sleepy child, a loud yawn leaving him as I reach out to pat his chest, wrapping an arm around him to help him over to my couch. He’s passed out the minute his head hits the pillow and I let out a deep sigh, reaching out to pull a blanket off of the back of the couch, wrapping it around him the best I can as he snores quietly, a small smile still on his lips.

Well fuck, if this isn't a Title X form waiting to happen.

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[icycoldninja]

(dmc) if the gangs signature swords were turned into humans for a day, what do you think they'd be like?

Excellent notion, I'm glad you brought it to me.

If the DMC boys' swords were human headcannons!

🔥Devil Sword Dante 🔥

(Idk if this is classified as his signature sword since he has a lot of those, but since this one has his name in it I'm gonna write about it)

-Devil Sword Dante would manifest in the form of an old, yet muscular, ex-rockstar-hobo-looking dude, aesthetically similar to Dante.

-He would wear a punk leather jacket with a red undershirt that reads "Let's Rock Bitches" and would possibly have a long scraggly wizard beard, a bandana, and maybe even an electric guitar strapped to his back.

-He and Dante would shake hands, bump fists, then declare each other BBFLs (Best Bros For Life)

-They would immediately trash Devil May Cry by throwing a massive pizza party and rock out so hard the windows blow up because of the sound waves radiating from their electric guitars.

-These two would singlehandedly buy and eat up all the pizza from their local Pizzahut.

-At the end of the day, Dante and Devil Sword Dante would bro-hug and bid each other farewell. Devil Sword Dante promises to fight alongside Dante for the rest of his days while Dante promises to take good care of him when he's not in use.

-Dante secretly wishes he could turn the sword back into a uuman, permanently, because it feels like he just lost the closest, greatest friend he'd ever made.

❄️ The Yamato ❄️

-The Yamato would become the essence of motivation itself: It would manifest as a Vergil clone.

-The only difference is that this clone is mute, and does not speak, and that his arms and legs are actually blades.

-Vergil may have been frowning on the outside when he met the human manifestation of his sword, but he was smiling in the inside.

-The Yamato has no emotions, but it has motivation. Though it couldn't speak, it motivated Vergl to do things like beat up his deadweight child again he would have never dreamed of doing until now.

-Because The Yamato doesn't speak, Vergil finds the peace and quiet (a very rare occurrence until now) incredibly calming.

-He doesn't exactly miss The Yamato when it returns to sword form, but he does have a renewed respect for it. To him, it is no longer just a sword; it is a part of him.

🟥 Red Queen 🟥

-Unlike the first two swords, Red Queen does not manifest as an adult human. It manifests as a child.

-This kid is exuberant, loud, and has a penchant for mischief. Nero has his hands full, chasing it around and trying to keep it from hurting itself.

-The kid somehow conjured up some crayons and markers and began drawing all over the walls of Devil May Cry and Nero and Kyrie's house. Eventually, Nero nabs the little gremlin and takes him back to his home, where Kyrie cooks up a massive meal for it.

-Nero is exhausted after just 1 hour of dealing with this menace, but at the same time, it's growing on him. He even gave the kid a name: Little Monster.

-When Little Monster eventually has to return to sword form, it gives Nero a big leg-hug and says goodbye, saying it had a lot of fun and that it wishes they could play again sometime.

-Nero is more than happy to have that little troll gone, he kinda misses it, after a little while. Ah well, at least now he's prepared for parenthood.

[call-sign-shark]

The Blue Hurricane and the Mustache Man|| Modern! Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary:  Arthur almost regretted his decision to accommodate you that time he was shaving and you decided to mess with him... MASTERLIST.

general context: He's a former soldier and a drug addict trying to get better. You are an unhinged punk girl living in the streets. You weren't supposed to meet... And now Arthur's fate and yours are forever entangled.

Words: 1.4K

TW: Mention of drug use and craving, PTSD but otherwise it's funny and cute

Notes: This work is related to Pop Goes the Rat, which explains how Arthur and Reader met, as well as the whole context behind this Modern AU. However, you can read the two-part separately.

1 # The Mustache Man

“Hey old dog! Where are the ice cubes?”

You yelled from the kitchen, standing in front of the open fridge as you looked for the ingredients to make a fresh homemade lemonade. The fact remained that no one answered you. No reply. You closed the fridge and walked to the corridor, “Arthur?” You reiterated, louder, but only silence answered your call. Now you were sincerely pissed — why couldn’t he answer? After all, he was shaving in the bathroom at the end of the corridor, not in the garden or something. That was how you decided to burst the bathroom door open with one kick. Arthur jumped at the sudden loud noise, causing his razor to slip and cut his cheeks.

“Aouchhhh.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Hey fucker, care to reply?” You attacked him, your tiny fists on your hips, a cherry lollipop between your teeth, and the most angry pout you could make etched on your juvenile face. The soldier turned around and glared at you. He had still a bit of shaving cream from here and there on his face.

“Can‘t leave me alone for ten fookin’ minutes eh?!” 

“Where are the ice cubes?” You asked, teeth bared.

“In the bloody fridge, ye stupid brat! And, God! How many times should I tell ye to put some fookin’ clothes on?!” Arthur grunted, noticing you were only wearing an oversized t-shirt and black panties. Nothing else. 

“Hey. It’s not my fault if the temperatures are intense! Even my freakin’ vagina is sweating!” You exclaimed.

Arthur looked at you with a half-confused and half-desperate look on his face before shaking his head.  Okay, you were definitely bonkers. Straight out of the local mental hospital, he thought. Then, he noticed a second detail that made him frown,  “Wait. Is that me t-shirt?” 

“… Eeeeh. No?” 

“You stole one of me shirts.” He stated, “You live in me house for free and you steal me clothes… I swear I’m within an inch of kicking you rat ass.”  He growled, before focusing back on shaving his beard all the while mumbling and cursing you, “Fookin’ kid who annoys me the hell out… Should have let ye sleep outside,  should have never welcomed ye here I swear you’re such a pain in the ass, running half naked, stealing shits, and sleeping in me bloody bed.”  He stopped rambling when he realized you were still here, staring at him with your eyes squinted and your blue-haired head slightly tilted on the side, “What’s wrong with ye, stinky rat? Wanna fight?!” He barked, a bit more aggressively than he attended. 

“You’re forgetting plenty of hairs. And you're holding it wrong — see? You’ve plenty of small cuts on your ugly-ass face.” You said, your tone quieter than it was one minute ago. 

“Can’t you mind your own business, eh?”  

“Tsss! Lemme do it.” You did not let him have the time to react nor to truly understand your suggestion — and you did not care. What you did though was to grab him by the arm and force him to sit on the toilet lids. 

“What are ye doing?!” 

“Ah! Shut up Arthur! Shut the fuck up and stay still.” You scolded him. At first, he wanted to push you and tell you to go screw yourself, but words choked in his tight throat the moment you sat on his lap and straddled him, the weight of your small body pressing against his. Before he could even realize what was happening, you snatched the razor from him with one hand and grabbed him by the chin with the other. Arthur’s wide-opened eyes finally met yours, “There.” You finally said with a surprisingly soft voice he did not expect to hear from your foul mouth. You started to shave him, not minding the astounded expression on his face.

Surprisingly enough, the way the blade slid on his skin was so smooth he didn’t feel anything. Arthur relaxed a little bit. His brows frowned slightly as he observed you from that close. His steel-blue irises, hardened by the war and one suicide attempt, captured every tiny detail of your broken-doll face: the shape of your eyes, the juicy flesh of your lips as well as the black stains of your slightly runny makeup... Arthur sighed, his blazing breath caressing your skin. At one point, you almost lose your balance, though.

“Hey careful! Yer not a fookin’ Peaky Blinders! Don’t cut me face with blade nor slit me bloody throat!”

"Oopsie?"

"She almost sliced me and she says "hihi oopsie", tsss..."

It was how the soldier came to the conclusion that holding your hips to keep you stable was a good idea.  A weird wave of warmth blossomed in your stomach when his large and strong hands grabbed you firmly, but still, you decided to ignore it.

“Okay, I’m almost done.” You put the razor in the sink and grabbed a towel to clean Arthur’s face. Once everything was done, you pressed an annoying kiss on his cheek —he growled in response— and stood up. Somehow, he was a bit disappointed when your body left his. Still, you took two steps back to admire your masterpiece with the biggest and sharkiest smile plastered on your bratty face, “Hey Arthur. Nice mustache.”  You blurted out.

“What? OH! DON’T TELL ME YE DID THIS!” Arthur almost jumped from the toilet lid to check his face in the mirror. With one panicked hand, he started to pat his cheek while his piercing steel blue eyes looked at the horrible thing you had left under his nose, “WHAT THE FOOK.” 

You burst into a crazy ass laughter, delighted by the way he reacted to his new style. 

“Shave it off! Shave this awful mustache off! Look at me face?!” He turned to you and grabbed you by the shoulder a bit too fiercely, "I look like a fookin' grandpa!"  

“Okay okay, calm down fucker! Imma shave it. You’re so boring!” You complained, rolling your eyes and stomping the floor with your bare feet to show your discontent, "So boooring!" You reiterated. Looking forward to getting rid of the mustache, he sat a second time and let you straddle him but this time, his arms locked around your waist so strongly you could not help but yelp in surprise, “The hell you’re doing?!”

“Ain’t gonna let you go as long as you don’t shave the mustache.” The gravel in his voice was highlighted with genuine military authority, "So hurry the fuck up before I smash yer head against the wall."

“Alright, no need to be so mean.” Resigning yourself, you grabbed the razor for a second time. You were about to shave him when you stopped in the middle of your motion to look him right in the eyes though. With your brows slightly frowned, you brought your face so close to his that the top of your noses bumped together. Arthur, stunned, stopped breathing. He wanted to say something but the thing is he could not — his words didn’t want to leave his throat, petrified by the proximity between you. And, somehow, his soul didn’t want you to back off.

 Silence fell above the bathroom as your little and cold fingers grazed his upper lips. 

Boom. Boom. 

The beating of his heart quickened for each time your skin brushed his, he would feel a surge of electricity running his whole body. Had her perfume always been so sweet? He thought. Arthur gathered all his strength to focus on something else but he could not  — his steel blue irises inevitably fell on your slightly parted lips, between which he could see your tongue playing with the lollipop. A shaky breath escaped from his mouth. Gosh… How bad he wanted to kiss you. To taste the sugar of the candy straight from your flesh. 

“You should keep it.” Your voice snatched him from his thoughts.

“Eh?” Arthur said, blinking several times to get a grip on himself.

“You should really keep the ‘stache.” 

“Go fook yourself baby doll, I ain’t keeping it!” He grunted, showing his teeth like a wounded wolf. Baby doll — it had escaped from his mouth before he could even realize it 

“But it suits you well! I mean, I did it as a joke but it looks really good on you!!”

“You kid me right?” He raised a brow, “No way.” 

“Ohhhh please!! Pretty please Arthur, pleasepleaseplease!” You begged, suddenly bouncing on his lap, “pleaaaase! I'll be super nice and quiet for a whole day if you keep it just a lil' while!”

Another surge. Arthur's jaw clenched, the movements of your body making erotic thoughts dawn in his mind. “STOP THAT, EH.”  He tightened his grip on your hips to keep you from moving, his cheeks burning all of sudden for blood had rushed to his face. The soldier let out an angry sigh and looked at you, sighing. To be true, he had tried to send you off — he had really tried his best, but there was something in your adorable pout and your big shiny smile that got him on his knees, and it frustrated him even more. As annoying as you were,  he couldn’t refuse you anything because he ultimately liked the way your beautiful eyes lightened up when you smiled — or the melody of your bratty laugh, “Alright…”

“So you’re keeping it?! Really??”

“Just for the week-end. Off the 'stache goes after this delay. Got it?" He grunted, one brow raised.

"Got it. I'll obey your orders" You whispered, your fingers losing themselves in his slicked-back hair, " You know why?"

"Hm?"

"Because you're fookin' Peaky Blinders." You teased.

"... Get fucked."

♠️ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

♠️ Tag list: @1nterstellarcha0s

[capypub]

The Ex - Mafia!Joel Miller Extended Scene

Part of my AU Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC Series

Without Warning Masterlist

Rating: 18+ (swearing, allusions to smut but no actual smut, brief mentions of drugs)

Summary: Joel takes his girl out to dinner. Her ex-boyfriend happens to be bartending. Joel asserts his dominance.

AN: Again, big thanks to @diversemediums for their prompts!

When Ethan raved about some new steakhouse that opened up downtown, Joel saw it as the perfect opportunity to treat his girl after a stressful couple weeks.

She had a break between the spring and summer semester, a much needed one that. He came home on a Friday afternoon and told her to get ready, that he’d be taking her out on a date. She didn’t refuse or question him either, excited at the prospect of going out to dinner with him, doing something together after he’d been gone for a couple days doing business in Dallas. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous, baby,” he nearly growled in her ear, fisting the material of her little black dress at her hips. 

“Joel, dinner,” she reminded him with a soft laugh as he began to kiss along the curve of her neck, lips wet and hungry.

“We got time,” he muttered, one of his large hands slipping between her thighs to rub over her clit.

“Joel, I swear,” she gasped, grinning as he stroked her clit through her panties with rough fingers.

“Swear all you want, baby, lemme hear it,” he grunted, his smile evident in his tone as gripped her shoulder and turned her around to face him. 

She rolled her eyes, smiling as she took his hand and tugged him towards the door. “I’m hungry.”

“I got somethin’ to fill you up,” he remarked without skipping a beat, smirking as he reached around to grope her ass with a low, rumbling chuckle. 

She laughed, shaking her head as he dipped his head down to kiss her again, one final attempt at getting her to give in before they left. 

The restaurant was crowded when they arrived. Thankfully they were only late by ten minutes and Joel seemed intimidating enough in stature that the host didn’t argue about seating them. Once seated near the bar, Joel pulled Indi’s chair closer to his at the small, round table, so both their backs were to the wall, allowing them the view of the whole restaurant from their corner.

“That’s a nice touch,” she said with a giggle, pointing at the giant metal longhorn statue near the entrance of the restaurant, propped up on a platform with a plaque in front of it.

Joel scoffed lightly, his arm around the back of her chair. “S’alright,” he muttered, bringing his glass of whiskey to his lips. 

Their waiter was fast, attentive, but also knew to leave them alone for the most part. Indi figured it must be because of Joel’s intimidating scowl, one always directed at others but never at her. 

“Hey, this kid keeps lookin’ at you,” Joel said lowly after they had ordered. “You know ‘m?”

She looked up at him, having been too distracted by the decor of the restaurant to feel anyone’s eyes before following his gaze to the bar. Joel seemed to be glaring at the bartender. The bartender was casting long glances at Indi.

“Oh…” she choked, her back stiffening as she realized who she was looking at. “Oh shit.”

“Who is that, darlin’?” Joel asked again.

“Um…th-that’s my…” she chuckled nervously, anxiety filling her stomach as she kept glancing over at the bartender. “Remember when I said I used to date a drug dealer?” she asked quietly, leaning close to him. “That’s him.”

Joel stared at her for a long moment, his brain short-circuiting for a minute as it tried to process the fact that he was currently sitting in the same room as his fiance’s ex-boyfriend. From the few things she’s mentioned about him throughout their relationship, a no good punk ex-boyfriend at that.

“That’s him?”

She nodded slowly, watching closely for his reaction. “What’s his name?”

“Joel,” she sighed, shaking her head in exasperation, “don’t start.”

“Name, darlin,” he demanded, keeping his voice low, but his tone left no room for argument.

“Joel,” she insisted.

“Don’t make me ask you again, sweetheart…I have no problem tyin’ you up tonight for makin’ me repeat myself,” he warned, leaning in close, his lips brushing her earlobe as he practically growled his threat at her.

She gripped his forearm with a shiver, that tone immediately sending a wave of desire between her legs. He chuckled, already knowing the effect he was having, reading her desire like an open book. “I’m waitin’, sugar,” he drawled, bringing his free hand up to caress her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip as she shuddered against his touch. 

“Derek,” she sighed, blinking slowly up at her fiance, brain already beginning to shut off and fully submit to him.

“Thank you, baby, that’s all I needed to know,” he cooed at her, his dark tone vanished, replaced with a gentle warmth. 

He drops the topic after that. Joel does an excellent job of keeping his girl focussed on him and their date, engaging her in conversation about things he knew would keep her talking, keep her smiling at him. All the while, he would sneak glances at the kid behind the bar, who still blatantly stared at their table as he worked. It annoyed him, but not to the point he felt he needed to act. 

And then his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Fuck, it’s Tess. Give me a minute, baby, I’m sorry,” he sighed, scooting his chair back to step away.

“It’s fine, Joel,” she insisted, continuing to eat as he walked towards the men’s bathroom, bringing the phone up to his ear. 

Joel had been gone all of ten seconds before Derek approached their table, hands in his pockets, smelling like stale alcohol and a hint of weed. 

“Hey Indi,” he greets her with a smirk. “What do you want?” she sighed, having a feeling this might happen if Joel left her side. 

“That’s your new dude?” he asked, shifting his weight to one side as his eyes trailed down to her chest.

“Yes, that’s my fiance actually, so get lost,” she declared, bringing her wine glass to her lips.

“You know who that is right?” Derek continued with a low chuckle and a shake of his head. “You thought I was into some shit, baby, that’s the kingpin of the whole city…” 

“So you’re still dealing, then?” she muttered, setting her glass down slowly.

He shrugged, trying to appear confident and nonchalant. “Not like I used to, only the natural stuff now.”

She didn’t believe him for a second. “That’s great, you can leave now,” she huffed, her eyes sharp as she glared at him. 

“Damn girl, chill out. Just tryin’ have a conversation with you. You know, catch up,” he insisted with a flirtatious grin. 

“That’s not a good idea,” she stated, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed across her chest.

“Come on, babe, you know we had fun,” he cooed at her, only causing her glare to harden.

“Fuck off, Derek.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, his easy smirk shifting into a scowl. “Look, is your man needin’ another guy? I’m lookin’ to make some cash and rollin’ with the Millers is guaranteed bank,” he said, leaning on the table, his palms flat on the tablecloth as he spoke to her.

Before she could go off on him for his sheer audacity, another figure approached the table. Indi exhaled a breath of relief, finding Joel standing tall beside his chair, eyes cold and jaw tense as he stared down at Derek.

“Best be gettin’ away from her, kid,” he growled, taking his seat. 

“O-oh, uh, Mr. Miller, I’m…I was just catching up with Indi, we, um, we used to date, you know?” Derek stuttered, standing straight with his hands in his pockets again.

“That so?” Joel drawled, bringing his arm around the back of her chair, his hand protectively on her shoulder.

“Y-yeah, yes, sir. I was tellin’ her that I’m still in the game…thought maybe you could use another guy on the streets, uh…workin’ for you, sir.”

Joel glared at him, his free hand on the table, holding his whiskey glass as he scanned Derek who shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He raised a brow at the younger man with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t need some punk-ass kid touchin’ what’s mine, including my product. Get back to your day job, Derek,” Joel stated in a low tone, stating the other man’s name with obvious warning. 

Derek gulped, intimidated by Joel already knowing his name without him having mentioned it yet. He looked at Indi and then back Joel. Her expression was blank as she leaned into Joel’s side, her gaze steady on Derek, standing her ground with a disinterested shrug.

“Y-yeah, alright,” he nodded with a scoff, ducking his head as he turned around.

“Hey, kid,” Joel said as Derek went to walk away.

He turned back around, a slight spark of hopefulness in his eyes. 

Joel’s gaze was icy as he glared at the younger man. “Speak to my girl again and I’ll break your fuckin’ jaw.”

She knew she shouldn’t be as turned on as she was when Joel so openly threatened her ex-boyfriend, but she couldn’t help it. When he got like this, he seemed to radiate power and dominance even more than normal, his energy drawing her in like a magnet.

When Derek was gone, she leaned into Joel’s side, her hand on his thigh as she whispered in his ear. “That was really hot, handsome.”

He chuckled, a low sound deep in his chest as he watched her eyes dilate fully in the low light. “Got you all hot and bothered, baby?” 

She nodded, biting her lower lip, leaning into him to kiss him. “Very…”

He smirked, bringing one large hand to her jaw and kissing her hard, his fingers curling into her hair as she sighed. He felt her hand inch up his thigh further, her engagement ring clinking lightly against his belt buckle. 

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m ready for dessert.”

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ꜰɪᴠᴇ ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“For someone who claims to be a scientist, you sure aren’t very smart.”

You glance down at Hiro’s messy notebook filled with scrawls and doodles, even a simple two-plus-two equation scribbled on one side. The boy in question just groans in response, his head on his desk.

“Shut up,” He grumbles, trying to swat you away with an annoyed hand. “Don’t you have a job or something?”

“In fact, I do! And I’m getting paid by my boss to bring coffee up to you, so be grateful, you stinkbug.” You practically push him off the chair, and he slides onto the floor with a defeated and very drawn-out groan of complaint.

“Tadashiiiii, get her away!” Hiro whines loudly. His brother is stretched on his bed in a relaxed position, typing away on his phone, seemingly engrossed in a conversation. 

“Mmhm, have fun, kids,” He hums in response, not even bothering to look up. You smirk, sitting on Hiro’s chair and flipping through his notebook. He doesn’t do anything to stop you, merely moving to sit cross-legged on the floor as he absentmindedly toys with his MegaBot.

It’d been over a week since you started working at the Lucky Cat cafe, having gotten to know the two Hamada brothers a little more since your first few days there. Over time, you’d learnt that Tadashi was the go-to for anything under the sun while Hiro…is there. 

Well, he does have some merit to him, you suppose. He’d helped you fix the espresso machine when it broke down during a shift once without a grumble, though he did express repayment in the form of many cups of coffee provided by you. However, the two of you were somewhat like oil and water — you just didn’t mix well. 

There were occasions where you did share the same view, of course, such as Tadashi’s love life and, likewise, your love for coffee. Hangouts during your break time were mainly spent in their room, talking gaily about trivial things ranging from their go-to WackDonald’s order, to heavy topics such as the discovery of mummies.

Conversations were never dull, to say the least.

“I understand nothing,” You hand back the notepad with a blank smile, having leafed through pages and pages of equations and barely legible handwriting. Hiro scoffs, taking it from you. 

“For a self-proclaimed journalist, you’re not very bright.” 

“Whatever,” You roll your eyes, taking a sip from the mug on his desk you’ve claimed as yours. Hiro’s own cup sits snugly in a corner, and dried coffee stains are all that’s left after he’s chugged it all down in the span of an hour.

It’s your shift's break time, and you decided to hang out with Hiro and Tadashi because why not? You’re bored, and one is significantly better to be around. (It’s Tadashi.)

“Tadashi, you need a refill?” You ask, hesitating when you see his cup is still filled to the brim with his mocha. Hiro snorts at his brother’s gaze that’s trained solely on his phone screen, shaking his head no in response to your unanswered question. 

“It’s fine. He’s busy flirting.” 

“I am not!” Tadashi huffs when he registers Hiro’s words, setting down the phone and glaring at the little punk with cheeks so red they could rival even the neon signboard opposite the cafe. 

“Oooo, does Tadashi have a crush?” You remark with a cheeky grin, giggling mischievously as Hiro snickers with you. You fist bump him subtly, eyes filled with pure intrigue and evil curiosity directed at the oldest. “So, who’s she?”

“ ‘She’ is none of your business.” He lays back down, turns his phone off and grabs a book from his bedside shelf. He opens it to a random page, furiously reading the words as if it’d help to ignore whatever expressions are on your face. “I swear, the only time the two of you work together, and it’s to mess with me.” He mutters under his breath.

“Mmhm.” Hiro chooses to let it go, but only for now. You chuckle, getting back up and dusting off your jeans. You check your watch, only to see that it’s reaching the end of your break time. “You staying for dinner?” You hum in thought at the question, recalling Sakura saying something about being out tonight. 

“Sure,” You reply with a shrug, “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be home. Why? You’ll miss me that much already?” You tease with a toothy grin, knowing full well that it’d be the opposite. Hiro gags in response, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

“You wish. Cass just asked us to tell you to stay for dinner anytime. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” He says snarkily, crossing his arms.

“Well, it’s your lucky day. I’ll be staying for dinner the whole week!” You cheer, doing jazz hands to irritate him even further. Hiro rolls his eyes, getting back up from the floor and reclaiming the chair. 

“See you later!” You call over your shoulder as you exit their room, heading back downstairs to the cafe, where you resume your usual duties. Cass welcomes you with a smile, and you tie your apron back on before stepping behind the counter, falling back into your regular routine of handling the espresso machine with expertise. 

The hours pass quickly, but you can feel the subtle ache in your muscles gradually builds up. You hand another cup of coffee to a customer with an automatic smile, your cheeks numb to the sensation. Once they leave, your shoulders sag in relief. Leaning back with a weary smile, your back longs for the sweet comfort of your bed and a massage. 

“You alright, hon’?” Looking up at Cass, you send her a weary smile in response to her concerned question. “I’ll be fine, but I might go back home right after dinner,” You reply with a breathy chuckle.

“Okay, just make sure to text us when you’re back.” You follow her up the stairs once she’s done closing the cafe, having helped clear and wipe down the tables. The kitchen is familiar to you now, having grabbed many meals from the fridge and heated them up in the microwave. 

“I think you’ll really like the menu tonight. It’s gonna be mac n’ cheese!” She cheers, heading over to the stove and starting to prepare dinner. Opening the drawers that store the cutlery and plates, you lay them on the table in their usual spots. One for Hiro, one for Tadashi, one for Cass, and one for you.

“Could you call the boys down for me? My hands are a little full right now,” She chuckles, nodding her chin to the container of flour in her arms, a spoon in her free hand to scoop out the needed amount. You send her a silly two-fingered salute, skipping back up the stairs to summon the two Hamada brothers.

“I’m comin’ in, don’t be naked, please!” You warn playfully with a single knock on their door before entering. 

“Didn’t know you were such a pervert.” 

“Am not! I just prefer to keep my eyes untainted by your hideous self,” You gasp, offended by Hiro’s words. He merely laughs in response, turning his chair to face you and getting up. 

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Mac n’ cheese.” Tadashi beams at your response, slinging an arm around your shoulders. He does the same to Hiro, the sudden weight almost knocking the breath out of you. “Now, now, children. Get along during dinner, and don’t leave any leftovers.”

Hiro bats his arm away with a glare. “I can behave myself. I’m not a child, unlike a certain someone.”

“You’re literally the same age as me!”

“And yet, so much more mature.” He smirks. Your jaw drops at his reply, struggling to fire back a retort. 

“Drop dead.” You grumble instead, returning down the stairs with your mood instantly soured. 

“Don’t you think that might’ve been a little much?”

“What? I was just stating facts!” 

Tadashi raises a brow. Hiro holds his defiant stare for a few moments, only to groan exaggeratedly with a roll of his eyes as he relents. “Fine. I’ll be nicer. But she can take it; that’s our whole thing!”

“Really? Being mean is your go-to conversation starter?”

“It works, doesn’t it?”

Unable to hide his amused smile, Tadashi grabs Hiro and ruffles his hair roughly with a soft laugh. “Be nicer.” He reminds before letting go and heading downstairs. 

“Ugh,” Hiro mutters, trying to use his fingers to comb his hair back into his usual style. 

“Something wrong dear?” Cass asks as you slide into your seat. You take a deep breath and exhale, calming yourself before perking up and shaking your head. “I’m fine, don’t worry!”

“If you say so…” 

You’re cheered up by the pot of mac ‘n cheese she sets down in the middle of the table, the heavenly smell filling the room and making your stomach rumble. Tadashi slides into the seat on your left while Cass sits on your right, placing down a plate of garlic bread and a small bowl of salad at the same time. 

Spotting Hiro walking down the stairs, you turn your head away, pretending not to see him as he sits opposite you. You ladle a portion of the cheesy goodness onto your plate, beginning to crunch down on a slice of garlic bread after. A happy hum alerts Cass to your bright smile, 

her heart practically melting at how much you’re enjoying the simple home-cooked meal. 

“Since you’re staying for dinner the whole week, is there anything you’re craving? Just let me know so I can drop by the grocery store and grab whatever I need.” 

You shake your head, not wanting to inconvenience her further than you already have. Being hired as a part-timer and even having meals for free is more than enough for you. 

Swallowing down the last of your garlic bread, you clear your throat. “I crave just about anything you make, Cass.” 

You’re suddenly engulfed in a warm side hug, smiling awkwardly until she finally lets go. Her fingers grip your shoulders excitedly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Got it. I’ll pull out all the stops for some hot wings on Wednesday!”

“Are those the ones so hot they’ll melt our faces off?” Hiro asks, suddenly interested in the conversation. He looks up from shovelling spoonfuls of mac n’ cheese in his mouth, talking through his chews.

Cass reaches over and smacks his arm lightly. “No talking with food in your mouth, young man.” She scolds lightly, “But yes, they’ll melt your faces off, so make sure you’re prepared!”

“Can’t wait.” Hiro grins widely, chomping down on some garlic bread. “To see you cry from the spice.” 

“Oh no. I can handle my spice, little one. You’re the one who should prepare a carton of milk when your tongue’s practically melting.” You shake your head with a scoff.

“Says you, loser.”

“You’re the loser.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“A loser.”

“Okay, what did we say about behaving?” Tadashi reprimands you both. Your cheeks warm, slouching in your seat from embarrassment at how immature you were being. The Hamada family (save for Hiro) welcomed you with open arms, only for you to repay them by acting like a child. 

“He started it….” You protest weakly, only to purse your lips into a pout when Tadashi gives you a stern look. Hiro is slumped in a similar position, only to pick up his spoon to eat another mouthful of mac n’ cheese.

“Hiro.” 

“Fine,” Hiro heaves an exaggerated sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Tadashi looks back at you, raising his brows expectantly. You look back at Hiro, who’s also waiting for you to reciprocate his apology. You straighten your back, sitting upright. “I’m sorry.” 

Yeah, you could be the bigger person here. Besides, your aching muscles were already screaming at you for slouching. Tadashi sits back with a satisfied smile, continuing to eat while Cass watches the entire thing go down, stunned and unable to interject.

The rest of the meal continues in peace, with Cass making small talk and you responding in kind. Once the dinner is over, you stand up to do the dishes, wincing when your shoulders groan in protest. Cass spots your expression, gently moving you to sit back down.

“Hiro, would you be a dear and walk her back home?” 

He parts his lips to protest, only to falter when he sees his brother’s pointed stare, recalling the conversation from earlier. “Fine,” He sighs, standing up and going downstairs.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow!” You wave goodbye to both of them who're cleaning up, walking downstairs and grabbing your bag along the way. To your surprise, Hiro holds the door open for you, exiting after you do.

“So, which way, loser?” 

You glare at him. “That way, loser.” 

Hiro has to jog to catch up to you, chuckling at your reaction. You walk side by side in silence and navigate the familiar streets before your steps slow to a halt. You look up at the sky, sniffing the air and spot dark clouds gathering in an ominous cluster above you.

“Wha-?”

“I smell rain.” You interrupt him. True enough, a loud rumble echoes through the sky and it starts to rain. “Damn it, I didn’t bring an umbrella.” You mutter, digging through your bag while Hiro automatically shifts his hoodie to cover his head.

“You didn’t bring an umbrella with you?” He frowns at your raised voice though he knows it’s because of the sound of rain pelting against hard surfaces, making it hard to hear, crossing his arms as the rain starts to come down harshly on the both of you. “Hey, it’s not like they said it was gonna rain tonight!” He defends himself.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s just find a shelter.”You spot a bus stop a short distance away, your shirt quickly getting soaked through. Hiro’s no better, his hoodie practically drenched by the time the both of you jog to the bus stop. He takes it off with a disgusted shiver, letting the soaked hoodie rest in a pile on the bus seat. 

Luckily, no one else is around. You wring your hair, getting as much rainwater out of it as possible. “So, you can smell the rain?” 

You glance up, nodding briefly. “Well, it’s kinda more like a weird sixth sense, but it only works moments before it starts raining.” 

“That’s actually kinda cool,” He comments absentmindedly, twisting the end of his shirt to squeeze out the excess water from the rain. The rain continues drumming against the plastic roof and walls of the sheltered bus stop with force so harsh you’re almost sure the plastic will break. 

Hiro’s subtle shiver doesn’t escape your notice, your body reacting automatically to the cold breeze that brushes past your bare skin. It’s chilly, you realise, sparing him a quick glance. Your arms wrap around yourself in a small hug, teeth chattering slightly as you try to control the involuntary shivers. Hiro’s no better off than you, sitting a short distance from you. He’s shivering nonstop, trembling hands clutching his thin shirt. 

Should you?

There’s really nothing to lose, so may as well.

“Hey, loser.” His head snaps up, turning to look at you with a raised brow. “Get over here.” You order, gesturing for him to move closer. He purses his lips in thought, regarding you with a suspicion-filled gaze. “I’m not gonna hit you, so scooch your butt over here.”

He ignores the roll of your eyes, slowly moving over till he’s right next to you. Instead of pushing him away, however, you press yourself against his side. The sensation of his wet shirt sticking to the side of your arm makes you shudder, Hiro flinching away in surprise. 

“What are you doing?” He says indignantly, using his elbow to shove you away. You scoff. “Calm down; I’m trying to conserve both our body heat. I thought you were a ‘scientist’, albeit fake.”

“I am a scientist.” Hiro retorts. 

“Whatever you say, now get back over here so we both don’t freeze.” 

He reluctantly gives in with a soft grumble, moving to sit next to you again. Your positions are awkward, but you decide it’d make do for now. San Fransokyo is beautiful, but the night weather can get unreasonably cold during the change of seasons. The rain continues to pelt against the sturdy plastic, and you watch it drip off the leaves of a tree nearby. The howling wind brushes against your ears again, and you instinctively draw closer to the boy next to you.

You feel his arm wrap around you, looking up in curiosity only to see him wince. “It’s freezing,” He allows himself to admit through a quick breath. Nodding in agreement, a sudden thud against the roof makes you both flinch. Looking up, you spot a branch that landed on top, having broken off from the nearby tree.

You glance at Hiro, meeting his eyes before the both of you dissolve into relieved laughter. Your shoulders shake with chuckles, wiping the tears that form in the corner of your eyes with a soft giggle. “Guess we’re both kinda scaredy cats, huh?”

“Says you; I wasn’t affected at all.” Hiro jokes with a grin, nudging your side. You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I see where this is going, Einstein.”

“Einstein? Aren’t you admitting your inferior intelligence a little too soon?”

The bite in his words is less distinct than before, the usual harsh and condescending tone now softer, almost playful. “Mmhm, keep dreaming.” You hum in return, a relaxed smile on your lips as the once harsh rain starts to let up.

“How’s the progress on your microbots coming along?”

“You know about that?”

“Of course. Tadashi keeps me updated when he helps out at the cafe.” Hiro’s wide eyes elicit a gentle chuckle from you, shrugging nonchalantly at his surprise. “You ask about me?”

“No,” He frowns. “But it looks like it’s going well for you.”

“Yeah, well. What can I say? I’m just too smart for my own good sometimes.” 

“Yeah, sometimes.” You snort, shaking your head. “Anyway, how’s it coming along?”

“It’s actually going pretty good,” He admits, “I got the base stuff down; I’m just having trouble with the headband configurations. Gotta code it out and everything. Luckily Tadashi offered to help look it over, and Wasabi offered to check my design.”

“Wasabi’s pretty cool. God, that day we met was a mess, wasn’t it?” You laugh, looking up at the clouds that are slowly parting, the rain slowing to a drizzle. 

“Don’t even remind me. Carbon metal embrittlement was sick, but not sick enough for me to be covered in pink.” Hiro shakes his head.

“I thought it was pretty cool, actually.” 

“ ‘Course you did.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” You shove him lightly, and he falls onto the bench with an amused laugh. You stand up, offering your hand to him. “Looks like the rain’s stopped. C’mon, I’ll wash your hoodie at my place - it’s the least I can do since you agreed to walk me back.” You grab the mentioned hoodie, nose scrunching when you register precisely how wet it is, the material heavy in your arms.

“Thanks.” 

The road back to your apartment is riddled with puddles, and you sneak him a glance before jumping into one with a carefree smile, splashing Hiro slightly. He shoots you an annoyed glance, only to reciprocate the action and spray your jeans as he jumps into a giant puddle.

“Hey!” you protest, though his mischief-filled eyes are now searching for another puddle to jump in. The tension between you two has dissolved chiefly to some extent, and you find yourself actually enjoying the walk home. Maybe you’ll even bump him up into friend status if he continues being this nice.

“So, how’s your ‘journalism’ going?” He chooses to ask after the both of you have splashed each other to your fill, balancing himself along the side of the pavement with ease. The lack of cars on the road doesn’t help your worries, choosing to tug him back into the safer inner corner of the walkway. 

“My ‘journalism’ is going fine, actually. I’ve been interviewing Tadashi about Baymax for a while now, and I think it’s gonna be a really solid article.” You say, pride stirring in your chest at the reminder of the various open tabs on your laptop back home, the Word document with your nearly complete article just waiting for you to conclude it.

“Sure, like he needs any help getting the word out there with your ‘journalism’.” 

Your steps slow to a stop in the middle of a shallow puddle, brows furrowing in confusion at Hiro’s words. They weren’t filled with malice by any means, but they weren’t exactly pleasant to hear either.

“What?” Hiro turns to look at you with a cheery smile, beckoning for you to continue walking. You take a step toward him, crossing your arms.

“What do you mean ‘my journalism’?” You mimic his air quotes, your arms returning to cross over your chest as you wait for his answer.

“Uh”, He chuckles, “I just mean that Tadashi doesn’t need journalism to get the word out there about his awesome invention. Look, I’m not trying to insult you or anything, but…journalists can be kinda dumb sometimes.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Look, take it from me. They write boring articles that ask Tadashi about his partner, the nerd lab, but never about his invention and the correct details. Journalists are dumb. ‘Cept for you, of course, but you’re gonna have to prove yourself.” He punches your side lightly jokingly, waiting for you to laugh at his joke. 

Except you don’t.

You stand there with your arms crossed and narrowed eyes, glaring at the boy before you. “Journalism isn’t dumb.” You say slowly, stressing every word. 

“Sure,” He shrugs it off. “But can we go now? My legs are kinda getting numb.”

“God, you’re such a jerk. How did I even think you were decent for a single second?”

“Woah, jerk? Dude, if this is about the journalism comment, I said except you, okay? Plus, I was only half-joking. Don’t take it seriously.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, only to yelp when you punch his arm harshly. 

“What was that for?!” 

“For being such a jerk. And for calling journalism dumb. I seriously can’t believe I was gonna bump you up into friend status.”

“Well, don’t then. It’s not like I asked to be your friend. And to be clear, you’re definitely never getting friend status from me either.” The both of you are glaring at each other now, the hostile tension rising with every passing second.

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Good!”

You storm off with a scowl, not even bothering to look behind you to check if Hiro’s still following. A few streets down, and you finally calm down somewhat, glancing behind you to see no one except the bright streetlights. Guess he hadn’t bothered to continue walking you home.

A sudden sneeze sneaks up on you, doubling over as you sneeze not once, not twice, but thrice. Your nose feels stuffy, and your fatigued body feels sluggish. You look down at your hand, only to sneeze once more. You stand back up, sniffling. 

“Shit.”

— — — — — — — — —

taglist:

@urfavarab

@dee-zbignuts

@frogindisguise

@mangodamochiii

[the-kr8tor]

Random movie Hobie headcanons I've had for some time;

(small tw: Hobie's trauma/PTSD+ angst tbh)

IF YOU THOUGHT YOU NEEDED THERAPY LAST TIME JUST WAIT FOR THIS ONE <3

-Love fish and chips, will absolutely NOT eat it with lemon (wrong opinion) and is a vinegar type of man. He will genuinely look at you with DISGUST if you squeeze lemon on your beer battered fried cod.

-Owns a turntable! Probably a radio and multiple other music related things in general. Would learn how to scratch old radiography acetates (X-ray's) into vinyls (an actual thing that was done in Russia as part of the punk movement! Fun fact)

-I can imagine that since he's lived in poverty he doesn't actually like sharing his food, especially with how sad his backstory is. Hell he might not even eat in front of you for a good bit until he genuinely gets comfortable with it all. Starting with eating snacks to full meals next to you, not scared that you might steal it away or yell at him anymore. He comes to understand that maybe he just needed someone to understand him

-All to say I imagine him with PTSD, he has nightmares on some nights. At first he refused to tell you why but as he went on...he just felt the need to tell you. To express himself and tell you how bad he feels, how his soul feels torn apart and shattered. You still think that even with all the pieces of glass on the floor you can help him recuperate so he can make himself back into the beautiful mosaic he is. Something unbroken, something breathtaking and shining. You hope he realizes he's perfect

-He doesn't yell at home, that's one thing you come to find out. His footsteps are light even with his long and slender frame you thought he'd make more noise. But he walks like he's not there. It's enough to break your heart when you see him crying over a broken glass as he whispers soothing words to himself.

-His inner child needs a hug, hell HE needs a hug as he is now. He needs comfort, he needs trust and he needs to be able to open up. He's so strong, like obsidian. Sharp and straight edged. But he'd be lying if he said he doesn't feel weak sometimes.

-I think it's safe to say that he has very few objects left from his childhood. He holds on to his mother's necklace, hiding it away in his house boat to make sure no one finds it. He has a certain anxiety with the thought that someone will steal his very last few possessions that remain from when he was nothing but a loving and trusting kid. A kid who had it bad. And you help ease him into a sense of security again, gently and very softly guiding him through it.

-He wouldn't be fully ashamed of his emotions but he hates crying in front of anyone. He fears he'll get mocked, that you'll laugh at him even if all he knows from you is kindness and soft tender words. There are times when he freezes up, his fists curled up and shaking. He tries his best to avoid crying in front of you but he ends up tearing up as you ask him what's wrong, holding his face in your hands.

-🪦

And here I thought the bonnie and clyde one hits hard 😭😭😭

This one went from being so cute to dread

Poor Hobie 😭😭😭😭😭 i wanna hug him and tell him everything is alright

[tower-arcana]

a little shinjiham thing i did, i like to hc that kotone was a bit of a trouble kid in grade school! also basically me wishing we could defend junpei in either route at that One scene behind the port island station </3 writing piece under the cut + ao3 crossposting (warning for in depth descriptions of violence)

Kotone had a feeling this wouldn’t go as any of them had planned. Sure, she trusted Yukari, and sure, she didn’t want to sit around and wait for clues to fall into their laps either — but this was a bit reckless, even for her. She didn’t want to drag Junpei into this, and she didn’t want Yukari to get hurt; she was sure she could handle herself, but that was a lot harder to do when there were others to look after, she’d learned.

But even so, here they were, standing in some alleyway in the backstreets of Tatsumi Port Island, and before Kotone could think of a plan or even warn Yukari, the girl was already charging headfirst into the fray.

Kotone really did like Yukari, she respected her and admired her strength without doubts — but she had to admit, this was a very, very poor decision of hers. She froze as she watched the other girl begin to antagonize the punk-ish looking boys, going as far as to call them trash. Yep, definitely didn’t think this through.

The dread only sunk deeper in Kotone’s stomach as the two boys began to encircle their group, and before she could even blink, the ‘head honcho’s’ fist had driven into Junpei’s gut.

In that moment, it was like time had stopped: she wouldn’t say she’s overprotective, because her reaction is only natural in this situation, really. She sees one of the few friends she has get hurt, and she loses it.

It’s like she’s seeing through tunnel vision, and without another word, she charges past Yukari to confront the guy that seemed oh so sure of his control over the situation — she would just have to shake that belief a little, wouldn’t she?

As he retracts his hand from the now doubled over Junpei, the guy spots Kotone approaching, giving a smug snort at her silent fury, not even knowing what kind of wrath he’d invoked.

“Got something to say, girlie—?”

And that’s just about all he manages to get out before her fist connects with his jaw, a resounding crack echoing through the alley, soon followed by the quiet gasps of the guy’s friend and the two girls that had been making snarky comments the entirety of the encounter. Still, Kotone didn't stop there, she knew there was a statement that had to be made here.

Fuck with her, or worse, her friends, and you get obliterated, simple as that.

Without skipping a beat, she kicks his knee to the point of his leg giving out, a strained yelp escaping his lips from the pain of the attack. She wants to go further, to stomp his brains into the pavement, but his friend has already grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her off of the scumbag as she gives a furious hiss.

She tears at his hand that refuses to let go, and she almost feels a bit of fear that the group of lameasses might get the upper hand, but by chance, someone else happens to step in as well.

A boy around her age with messy brown hair and a fierce scowl of his own yanks the second guy back and away from Kotone, and while she’s given the chance to recover, this newcomer uppercuts his opponent; she’s sure she saw a piece of a tooth fly out from the hit…

Kotone stares in slight awe for just a moment, and even if this newcomer looks a bit worse for wear, she had to admit she was impressed. Still, she couldn’t let her guard down too long, and she quickly turns just in time to see the first punk struggling back to his feet.

“You little bitch, do you even know who I am–?!” He hisses, wiping blood from the teeth-marked gash in his bottom lip as he manages to balance himself, and yet, his smart-ass comment only gives her enough time to act first once again. With a quick hook of her right foot, she sends him crashing down onto his back for a second time, and she follows up with a merciless kick to the gut that produces a satisfying groan from her opponent.

Kotone’s almost tempted to give him another kick, but she figures it’s best not to sink to his level in her mind’s eye — so with that, she spits onto the pavement beside his curled up body and finally clocks back into the world around her.

Yukari’s helped Junpei up off the ground, the first averting her eyes from Kotone, and the latter staring at her in a mix of fear and awe; on the other end, the mystery guy has rendered the other attacker unconscious with a bloody nose, and the vulture-like girls hanging by the scene just snicker under their breath before finally heading off, leaving their ‘friends’ in the dust. So far? She’d call the situation handled.

“W–Woah, Shiomi-chan! You made that guy eat dirt!” Junpei spoke up as Kotone took a second to pin her hair back up in its usual ponytail, a shaky laugh falling from his lips. “I mean, seriously, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

At that, Kotone just rolled her eyes, brushing off his praise with a shrug of her shoulders. “I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover then, eh, Iori?”

“Especially not when you can’t even handle yourself in a place like this,” the guy with messy hair suddenly interjects, his tone harsh in comparison to her own, making Junpei flinch. “Seriously, what were you doing coming to a place like this when you can hardly hold your own, aside from this one over here?”

Kotone pouts a bit at the way he jabs his thumb dismissively in her direction, but before she can defend her friends, Yukari gives a defeated sigh.

“Look, I… yeah, I know that wasn’t the smartest approach, but we heard we could find out about Fuuka Yamagishi if we came here, and—!” She cuts herself off with another shake of her head, and now Kotone recognizes the look on Yukari’s face: guilt.

The guy just keeps glowering for a moment, and Kotone almost thinks he’s about to make another jab at them altogether, but then he proves her wrong. With a heavy exhale, he rubs the back of his neck, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“I’ve seen Yamagishi at the hospital; she’s well and fine, physically at least. You probably caught wind of some of the girls that like to hang around here from Gekkoukan… apparently they’ve been picking on her real bad and it caused her to take leave from school a bit,” He pauses, finally glancing back up with those perpetually tired eyes. “That good enough for you?”

The three students blink a few times, clearly surprised by the off-putting guy’s sudden straightforwardness, but Kotone had to admit, they’d gotten what they came for.

“Th–Thanks, yeah, that’s really helpful,” Yukari gives a slow nod, and she awkwardly turns, Junpei still supported on her shoulder. “We’ll get out of your hair then, thank you again…!”

Kotone almost follows after the two instinctively, but stops as she glances back at the stranger, an imaginary lightbulb going off over her head. “Oh, wait — how can we even properly say thank you without getting your name?”

She can practically feel Yukari and Junpei staring holes into the back of her head, silently begging her to not antagonize the scary-looking guy anymore, but just like she does when she sees the warning signs, she rushes right through anyway!

“Mine’s Kotone Shiomi, thanks a lot for helping out back there, we were in a real tricky situation!” Kotone introduces herself with her usual blindingly bright smile, almost as if she hadn’t just kicked a guy’s ass a couple minutes ago, and holds her hand out for him to shake.

She holds this same position for a couple more seconds as he scrutinizes her, before finally, he gives a low chuckle and a quick, firm handshake. “Tricky’s one way to put it — I’m Shinjiro Aragaki, and no need to thank me. Those two had it coming to ‘em.”

Kotone feels a rush of triumph at getting Shinjiro to crack a smile, even if it was a snarky one, but her mind instead feels the need to focus on the odd sense of deja vu she feels along with it. Why did she feel like she’s heard that name and dry laughter before?

It looks like Shinjiro’s blindsided by something similar, and the two share a puzzled look before with quiet ‘ahem’ from Yukari, they realize they’re still shaking hands. He quickly retracts his hand averts his gaze, and Kotone can only put hers back in her jacket pocket and snicker at the guilty expression on his face — like holding hands with a girl was illegal or something!

“Well, I’ll see you around then, Aragaki!” Kotone waves goodbye with her other hand, still smiling like always, though now her face feels a bit warmer as he gives a quick nod in return.

“Yep, seeya,” And with that, Shinjiro turns on his heel, quickly skulking back to the shadows from whence he came. As Kotone catches up with Yukari and Junpei, she doesn’t miss the roll of her eyes that the other girl gives her.

[sparkagrace]

hi tej! i'm here with aus you might not write, though you'll have to let me know how close i get hahaha. i think you wouldn't write... an unhappy ending, infidelity, and time travel?

hope you have a good week! <3

Bri! thank you so much for sending this! This one was so tough because all of them would hurt me in various ways. But for you, I did time travel with a mild side of unhappy ending (I AM SORRY!). I hope you're having a good week so far! 💗💗💗

steve x bucky | teen | 860 words tags: post-EG, time travel, not a fix-it but a break it further

Bucky finds the old man behind the creek. Sam is back at the cabin, talking to the remaining Avengers — the Shield already tucked away safe — and Bucky doesn’t need any of that. He needs answers first. 

He takes a seat on the bench, hands buried in his black jacket and stares out across the water. The sun already set but there’s still light in the air before the night really sets in. Bucky is headed to the airport in the morning; after that, he doesn’t know yet. 

“Hey, punk,” Bucky begins. 

“Bucky.” The old man’s voice is raspy and slow, but with an aching familiarity. Bucky tuts. 

“So… where is he?”

The old man sighs softly, a small smile playing on his lips. Wistful. Fulfilled.

“194—”

“No,” Bucky cuts him off. “Where is he really?”

The old man who has Steve’s face glances at him, and Bucky’s right hand tightens around the knife hidden in his jacket pocket. The left already a fist inside the other. 

Bucky has seen a lot of weird things in his extended lifetime. Seeing an older version of his best friend morph into a green alien barely fazes him. 

He’s heard bits and pieces as they recovered from the battle and put Natasha and Tony to rest, and as he was caught up on missing another five years. He’s heard about Skrulls from Fury, not directly but he was around when Steve found out. Last night he and Steve went for a walk around the cabin while everybody else slept, and Steve laid out his plan to go back and replace the stones and pass the shield onto Sam.

And return to Bucky.

They didn’t know how long it would take Steve to do it, but they both knew he’d come back a little older.

Not decades.

Not having lived an entire life without him.

This is not Steve.

“He broke the rules.” The voice that comes from the Skrull isn’t the poor impression of an older Steve, but he sounds experienced. “He was told not to change the timeline.”

“What did he do?” But Bucky already knows. He had already told Steve not to.

“He went back to save you. The Alps. He got to you before Hydra did, but just before they did. The TVA tried to come for him too. It was him against the TVA and Hydra and then…” The Skrull blows out a breath. 

“Is he alive?”

“He used his last Pym particle to send you somewhere. Nobody knows where in time the ‘45 version of you is. Wherever it was, he hid you good.”

“So, he’s in space jail?”

The Skull shakes his head.

“The timeline can’t change. Too many things need to happen for this to happen, for Thanos to be defeated. The timeline needs a Winter Soldier and you weren’t there.”

Panic floods Bucky’s gut. The hold on his knife tightens. 

“Hydra took him and turned him into the Winter Soldier. It took longer, but they still could carry out the major events they needed in order for this timeline to happen.”

“And you?”

“Me? I was sent to live out a life Steve Rogers could have lived. Nobody but Hydra knew he was the Winter Soldier, and no-one would believe it if they saw Captain America out in public for decades, enjoying the glory he should have had if he had survived the war. Nobody would be looking for him under the ice if they saw him on TV shaking hands with the President, would they?”

“So you’ve been around for seventy years pretending to be Steve?”

“No, I lived it better than he ever could. I made him a legacy,” Skrull Steve grins proudly, and Bucky hates him. “I gave him a wife and kids, medals, glory. Passed on the Shield once or twice, and now Sam has it as it should be. He had a good life.”

“You had a good life. Where is he now?”

The Skrull shrugs. “Went down with Project Insight.”

No, no. That can’t be right. There’s no way that Steve — his Steve — who he just saw a half hour ago vanish on that platform, is gone. They’ve always rescued each other. Bucky eyes the platform in the distance. If he could—

“He’s gone, Sergeant. He saved you, for whatever that’s worth. You might already be dead by now too.” In his pocket, the knife taunts Bucky. He hates how this imposter talks about a Steve that wasn’t the one that Bucky knew. Wasn’t the one the world deserved. 

A shot rings out, startling Bucky and killing the Skrull. Thankfully not with Steve’s face but still. Bucky’s eyes dart around the area until he hears soft shuffling a short distance away. Bucky takes the knife from his pocket and holds it ready. 

Then he watches as an older man emerges from a hidden spot, a pistol in his only hand and a haggard face that has lived decades.

His face.

Older. Experienced. Haunted.

This is him from the Alps. The one Steve risked everything to save.

“We don’t have much time, Sergeant. Come with me. I know how we can save our Steve.”

ily sweet Bri! ✨I absolutely hate time travel because it is confusing but thanks to @cable-knit-sweater and @teenytabris for getting my thoughts in order 🥰️

[chanshoesunite]

24 Days of CHRISMAS: Day 22

Content info: Just a little drabble inspired by me having “Drive” on repeat since it came out on Spotify, idiots having a crush and driving around

Word count: 2443

Warnings: suggestive themes (I don’t actually know what that means but I’ve always wanted to say that), senseless driving (the planet is dying, Kids, take the fucking train)

Something about this, about driving through the night with Chan, the pulsating bass and tension between you, makes this one of the most intimate moments of your life.

Chan and you have been in the same friend circle for a while, but you’re not really close. He is sweet and intimidating at the same time, maybe because he’s so collected, so responsible, so hot or because he always wears black, that you don’t really try talking to him. You listen to him, though, because he is a fascinating person. You know he works in music production, and the way he talks about rhythm and melody and lyrics reminds you of magic – it seems like Chan is one of the initiated and allowing you glimpses into his world of alchemy.

So basically, you are not really friends with Chan, but he is best friends with Jisung, and you are best friends with Minho, and Minho and Jisung have the sort of friendship that could also be a passionate love affair if both of them didn’t insist they were straight, and that’s why you and Chan share a group chat, a social circle and often a few words, but not much more. Not that you wouldn’t like to share more with him, because honestly, you are kind of crushing on him.

It's late summer, and the heat is still holding your city captive, causing people to remain indoors or within reach of water all day and to only roam the streets at night. Your friend group is one of them; Felix made all of you – that is Chan, Jisung, Minho, Hyunjin, Changbin, him and you –  go to a late movie and then get ice cream afterwards. You’re sitting on benches in a park, listening to a busker, chatting, watching people flocking about even though it is well past 11 pm. The air is still stuffy, but bearable as you slowly lick your ice cream and listen to Jisung and Minho bicker over your head about this girl Jisung apparently likes and how to best talk to her.

“I really don’t see what’s so bad about going to her and saying, ‘Excuse me, noona, do you have a boyfriend?’,” Jisung argues.

Minho sighs. “Well, if you don’t want her to go out with you, I’d absolutely recommend that,” he says, exasperated. “What do you think, YN? Is that a good line?”

It really isn’t, but you don’t have the heart to tell Jisung, so you shrug and say, “If anyone could do it, it’s Jisungie,” winking at him. Your friend beams at you and throws an arm around you. “See, that’s why YNnie’s my favourite, Minho. I don’t even know why we call you Lee Know when you clearly don’t Lee Know.” He extends a fist to you to bump.

Minho stares daggers at you, and you shake your head. “Sorry, Sungie, but that was too bad even for me to support.”

Jisung draws his arm away as if stung, but Minho replaces it with his. “Good girl, YNnie,” he coos. “I knew your values still mostly aligned with mine.”

At that moment, Chan jumps up from the bench. “I think I’d like to call it a day now,” he announces. “You know how my creative hours tend to be after midnight.” He glances at Minho and Jisung. “Do you need a ride back?”

They both nod and get up, Minho pulling you along. “Can we take YNnie as well?” he asks. “I promised her I wouldn’t let her walk home alone so late, and she lives really close to your place, actually.”

“Thanks for talking about me as if I wasn’t here, punk,” you say, but Minho expertly sidesteps your slap. You really do prefer not walking home alone if you don’t have to.

Chan looks at you evenly with that nice but guarded expression of his. “Sure, no problem,” he says.

“Thanks,” you smile.

He nods, and then, after the short walk back to the parking garage, there’s lots of hugging as Hyunjin collects the rest of the group to drive them home.

You’ve never actually been inside Chan’s car, and you’re positively surprised. It’s black, obviously, and the inside could be dark grey but looks black in the weak light of the garage as well. It smells of him, you realise – of his deodorant and something spicy, like cinnamon, and it’s much cleaner than any of the other boys’ cars. Jisung insists you call shotgun as you’ll be the last to leave the car “and Chan hates playing Uber driver”, and so you find yourself next to Chan a few moments later as he first starts the music and then the car.

Jisung and Minho are still bickering in the backseat, and the two of you are quiet as Chan guides the car out of the subterranean garage and into the nightly traffic, which is already pretty scarce. A Conan Gray song is playing, which surprises you pleasantly, and you gently hum along. You can feel Chan glancing over at you, and as you glance back, he’s no longer looking at you, but smiling softly as he watches the street.

Jisung finally seems halfway convinced that his “Excuse me, noona, do you have a boyfriend?” line isn’t the best idea he’s ever had as Chan pulls into the driveway of his apartment building a few minutes later. Conan Gray winds down and is replaced by Frank Ocean, which has you nod appreciatively. This playlist fits the mood of a city that is asleep except for those who are staying awake to take back some of the quality the heat wants to steal from them.

Jisung thanks Chan with a slap on the shoulder, hugs your whole seat from behind and punches Lee Know on the shoulder before jumping out of the car, waving at you, and disappearing into the night. Minho sighs and leans back, only now noticing the music.

“Is that your night drive playlist again, hyung?” he asks, and you glance at Chan to see him blush slightly. “It might be,” he half admits before activating the turn signal. “Do you have to out me as a complete music nerd in front of YNnie?” You frown. You’ve never heard him use your nickname before. Or say your name at all, that you can remember. You like it. It sounds good in his voice.

“Chan, you’re not hiding the music nerd particularly well,” you say playfully, at which he snorts. “And I don’t think it’s something you should hide, either” you add more earnestly, which earns you another glance from him.

Minho sighs again, dramatically. “I am outnumbered by people who curate playlists for absurd situations,” he declares.

“There is nothing absurd about night drives” you exclaim at the same time Chan threatens, “I can always stop and let you walk home!” You look at each other and share a smile, a genuine one, and the way Chan’s dimples slowly appear is mesmerizing.

Your friend groans in the back seat. “Aigoo, the two of you really are a match made in heaven.” You don’t know what he means by that, and nobody wants to elaborate, so you are all quiet for the few moments it takes to reach Minho’s house.

When Chan stops, Minho jumps out, only to lean back in and shout, “Have a good night, you two,” before slamming the door and skipping away.

Chan shakes his head. “Thanking people is a concept that guy is not familiar with, is it?”

You shrug. “I know his mum tried.”

You are both sitting there, saying nothing for a moment, before you burst out: “Can I see your playlist?”

Chan hesitates for a second, then nods. “Since Minho mentioned you like absurd playlists, I’m ninety-two percent sure you will appreciate it.” He unlocks his phone and tosses it to you. You glance at his home screen for a second. “Aww, that’s us at the barbecue a few weeks ago,” you say happily, glancing at the selfie of the friend group in swimwear that was taken in early July at a lake. Chan just grunts as he starts the car again, and you open his Spotify to browse through the list.

“Oooh, I love that song,” you squeal, choosing “affection” by BETWEEN FRIENDS to follow Frank Ocean. The bass, the whimsical singing and the melancholic lyrics make it a perfect choice for this playlist and for driving through the summer night. You cue up “Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift because it’s a mood and you’re delighted Chan would include it in his playlist – you stan a male Swiftie. “That’s such a good playlist, Chan,” you say, “Can I share it with myself?”

“Sure,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road, but you’re not getting unfriendly vibes from him. You pull up a messaging app and send yourself the link. “See, now we actually have a chat history,” you declare, and that is a little awkward, simply because you’ve been hanging out because of your shared friends for at least a year – shouldn’t you text sometimes?

“I’m glad,” Chan simply says as he switches lanes. Taylor Swift comes on, and he starts quietly singing along.

“I love that you’ve got Taylor on there,” you compliment, for lack of anything better to say.

He shrugs. “She is a damn good songwriter.”

And you’re both singing along again. Chan turns onto one of the main streets that snakes around all of the inner city, and there’s plenty of traffic here, and so many lights from advertisements. Still, inside of your dark car, it feels like you’re the only people in the world, a dark little boat in an ocean of artificial light.

“Tell me about your weird playlists,” he says quietly. You cringe a bit. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Pinkie promise.” He stops at a red light, so he can actually turn to you and hold out his pinkie to you. You grab it with yours, delighted by how small it looks next to his, and at the softness of his skin.

“I have one that is called “Songs for Sexual Tension Filled Dancing with your Enemies To Lovers Love Interest”.”

Chan starts laughing before he can hold himself back. “Hey!” you yell, but the traffic light switches back to green so you can’t very well hit him. “You promised,” you whine.

Your driver snorts. “Yeah, but I thought you were going to say something like “Eating Ice Cream in my Over-Knees on a Saturday Night like they do in Romcoms” and not some fantasy inspired slash fic foreplay stuff.”

You pause. “Both of those categories are oddly specific, Christopher.”

Awkward silence on his part.

“And the fact remains that you broke your promise.”

“What’s even on a sexual tension playlist?” Chan asks, trying to distract you.

You roll your eyes. “The Arctic Monkeys, of course. Why are you even asking?”

Chan points at his phone. “There are some of their songs on this playlist as well.”

You glance back onto his phone and choose one of them. The thumping bass and dirty guitar riffs begin reverberating through the enclosed space of the car. Chan starts singing along again, and the way he softly breathes “secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought” has you thinking that you could fall in love with this man if you let yourself. This Chan, this past midnight, slightly sweaty T-shirt, unselfconsciously singing in the car Chan, is not intimidating. He is enchanting.

And the fact that he allows you to see him like this, so vulnerable, so himself, feels intimate in a way you don’t really have words for.

He interrupts himself. “Are you still mad I laughed at you?”

“Very,” you say, not meaning it at all.

Chan knows, because he smiles as he glances over at you. “How about we grab some takeout and drive around a bit more? I’m paying. And you can play me all the sexual tension music you like.” What does he even mean by that? Is he aware of what he’s doing to you?

You pretend to think hard, but then admit: “That sounds like a fair deal for breaking a pinkie promise, I would argue.”

Chan nods. “And I get to spend more time with you, so who’s the real winner here?”

You blush, and Chan meets your eye again to smile at you. You strike back: “Well, seems like you planned all of this anyway, given the fact that you haven’t even asked where I live yet.”

Now it’s his turn to blush. He clears his throat. “Okay, maybe I deserved that. Would you rather I took you home?”

On an impulse, you put a hand on his thigh. He slightly jumps, but puts his own hand on top of yours, his bigger one covering yours completely. “We ain’t stopping now,” you say decidedly.

Chan doesn’t react verbally, but his hand squeezes yours. “McDonald’s?”

You nod, and Chan turns off the main road, still holding your hand.

“YN?”

“Yeah?”

“You know – my home screen picture?”

You nod. “The one from the barbecue?”

Chan is quiet for a second. “That’s the only one I have of us together.”

His confession hits you kind of out of the blue, and you panic a little, because you say, “One of the lines Jisung wants to try on his noona is ‘I’m not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together.’”

Chan pulls his hand away, groaning. “That’s it, I’m abandoning my crush on you. Why would you say that!”

His… Crush on you? Could he be any more honest?

“Chan?”

He sighs. “Yeah?”

You gulp, but keep going. “I have a playlist called Crush Culture.”

He waits for you to go on.

“And… The image for it… Is your WhatsApp profile picture.”

Chan is quiet again before asking. “Are there any Arctic Monkeys on that playlist?”

You huff a laugh. “I Wanna Be Yours.”

Chan parks the car and then glances over at you. You only now realise that you’ve reached the McDonald’s closest to your house. “Crush activated again. But I’m not kissing you in a parking lot.”

You nod. “We stan a classy man.”

He bites his lip and shakes his head. “Let’s get some fries and then go somewhere else, okay?”

You smile. “Okay.”

You both get out of the car, and he carefully takes your hand. “Where do you live, by the way?” he asks as you’re walking towards the restaurant.

You grin. “I’m not telling you.”

Chan shrugs. “I’ll try again in an hour.”

You nod. “Try you may.”

~Day 23~