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tinydefector · 2 months ago

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Marine Centre 9 - Merformers

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Fic Masterlist

Have the collection of the Oceanides I have art finished of

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After the incident with Big Blue and Angelfish they had distanced themself slightly, more out of embarrassment over anything, the felt bad for Big blue they had been pestering the crap out of him and he had been avoiding them due to ‘that’.

They felt stupid more than anything, it was getting close to a lot of animal's breeding season so it was only expected the oceanides would be going into season as well. They couldn't blame him for avoiding them, if the roles were reversed they would have been mortified.

They are snapped out of their thoughts as the small group of kids walk towards the entrance of the centre. a smile crosses their lips as they see their little cousin bouncing towards them. “Hey kiddo, woah look how tall you have gotten!” They laugh while ruffling their hair.

“Mum and Dad said you asked if I wanted to visit!, woah are those the Mermaids you work with! They are so pretty!” They exclaim in excitement as they move to rest on the jetty. The three other kids move closer to watch as well.

"Look, it's coming over! Can it understand us?" one boy called.

A girl squealed as Angelfish swam near, clearly awestruck. "Mum, its staring! I think it wants to say hi!" As she waves slightly at him.

"Hello fishy! My name's Jill. What's yours?"

Angelfish chirped softly, tilting his head at the odd, high-pitched sounds. Their enthusiasm, like playful otters, was infectious. He trilled in greeting, watching with amusement as Jill gasped.

"He talked to me! Did you hear?"

Her brother laughed. "Silly, it doesn't have a name or talk. It just makes noise like a dolphin."

Jill pouted stubbornly as Angelfish whistled quietly, hoping she'd understand he was friendly.

They shake their head softly at the kids. "Alright everyone. These beautiful beings are Oceanides. Or as I'm sure you all call them Mermaids, merfolk." They explain to the children. "All of them here have names. This sweet boy here is Angelfish. And if you're really good some of the others might come over to say hi" they hum while motioning to Angelfish. As they sit down ushering for the kids to move closer.

The children gasped in awe, gathering around eagerly as Quin sat with them to tell more. "Angelfish is curious about you all too," she said with a smile at the sweet oceanide. "He knows 'hi' and can understand something. Can any of you say hello to him nicely?"

Two brave kids leaned forward, waving. "Hi Angelfish!"

He chirped happily in response, floating closer as he twirls and shoes off in delight. "He's so cool!" exclaimed a boy. "Can he really talk?"

"Well, not quite like us," Quin explained. "But Angelfish and his pod use special whistles and clicks to communicate. They can recognize each other, share danger signals and even tell stories that way. It's amazing!"

"They sing a lot, Angelfish here loves cuddles but you have to remember they are wild creatures and not all of the mers are the same. We have a big one here who doesn't really like people. His name is The Meg but i call him Big man, but then we have Angelfish, Cherry and Babybee who do very much like people" they explain as Bluestreak presses his head into their lap.

The children listened, enthralled, "Angelfish seems to really like you," noted a boy. They smiled, stroking Angelfish’s frilled head where it rested against their leg. "I've spent time getting to know them all. Angelfish was the first to become cuddly towards me”

Jill raised her hand eagerly. "What's Babybee like?" "Oh, he's the sweetest little thing, so curious and playful! Not much bigger than you. Just don't squeeze too tight if you're lucky enough to meet him."

Questions kept flowing as the youngsters soaked up every detail. "Quin would you mind taking them to meet the Turtles and show them the Ray's?" They ask with a smile as they watch the group of kids. Their little cousin looked excitedly to spend time with them away from the other group.

"Of course!" Quin replied warmly. Gaining the children's attention, she spoke with kind enthusiasm. "Who would like to learn more about our shelled friends and the stingrays we have here?"

A chorus of raised hands answered, swarming Quin as they stood.

Quin grinned at their eager faces, leading the way. "Now everyone listen closely please no loud noises or quick moves that might startle. The sea life once we head inside"

As the other kids and their parents walk away with Quin, their little cousin stays with them, moving to sit beside them on the jetty. "Would you like to meet someone very special to me kiddo?" They ask giving their little cousin a slight nudge with their elbow.

The kid nods eagerly, bright eyes alight with curiosity. "Yeah! Who is it?" Their feet kick softly against the worn wooden slats, "Is it one of the Mermaids? Do you think they'll let me touch their tail?" They inquire while watching the oceanides.

"I'm sure you can if they let you, but just wait" they make a loud whistle which catches the oceanides attention but it's a quick little blur of yellow and black that comes darting towards the jetty, cooing and calling. "Yes, yes hello bubba!" They laugh as the pup nearly climbs up onto them. Their cousin gasps in delight as the sunny blur of scales comes clicking and chirping over the water. "A puppy! No, a Guppy!"

Small hands reach out eagerly to greet the bouncing bundle of yellow and black with a careful pat and giggle. Up close, its skin gleams so smooth, like the jewels piled in tidepools but alive with vibrant colours. Their wide eyes drink in every shimmering detail. The flicking fins, bright little face, bubbly noises of joy. "Omg! He's so cute. What's his name?"

" This is BabyBee, he's the only pup we have here, remember when I had to look after a really sick baby mer, well this was him. He's rather attached to me now" they chuckle. Hoisting him closer so that their little cousin could meet him. "Say hi Baby" they coo softly to the pup.

The kid grins wide, gently waving hello. "Hi BabyBee! I'm so glad you're all better now. Thank you for coming to visit us." They gently pat his shimmering skin, marvelling at the silken texture. But even more amazing were the strange sounds he made.

"Bubba hi! You nice," Babybee chirps back, nuzzling their palm for scritches. His caretaker hugging him sends joy bubbling up his frame. They chuckle watching their little cousins face in shock hearing bumblebee talk. "Shhh, you're the first person outside of me to hear him talk. Don't want a lot of people knowing. " they whisper. As Babybee purrs and plays with their fingers.

Quickly pressing a finger to smiling lips, they nod eagerly. "It's our secret, I promise!" they whisper back. Gently wiggling fingers to play peek-a-boo. Bee wiggles his fins and frills giggling as he plays. His joyful chirps and trills make them smile in delight over being so taken with someone to play with.

"He's the reason I asked your mum if you wanted to come stay with me for the weekend. Once the tours over with the other people I'll take you to the beach. You can come play with him and meet the others" they explain. Their cousin's eyes light up brighter than the midday sun. "Really?! I get to come here and play with Babybee all weekend?"

"Thank you thank you! It's the best present ever!"

"Anytime kiddo" they give a partial hug to them. "All right bubba, you gonna go back in, I'll be back later" they coo to the pup as they settle him back into the water.

_______________________

From his perch on the rocks, Megatron watches the unusual exchange with contemplative interest. He hadn't ever seen the caretaker with spawn of their own, but to see how close this small one was with them he could only suspect.

Meanwhile, chatter rises high as ever among the gathering pods. "Didja see that?" Skywarp titters eagerly. "They are introducing their own kin to Bumblebee!"

Ever-hopeful Bluestreak chirps with joy. "Just think of all the fun those bitlits will have playing! Don't that just warm your frills, Ratch'?. Bumblebee has a playmate now"

Ratchet hums softly, as Bumblebee trills a farewell before darting back to play, Bumblebee chirps and whistles eagerly, spiralling around the gathering pods with buoyant glee.

"Didja hear dat, didja hear? De bitlit coming to play wif me!" His words are quick and jumbled in his delight. “I saw pup, making new friends are you” Ratchet coos while checking the bitlet

Rodimus rumbles a muted warning to his peers. As they swam closer, frills flared showing off the colours "Easy now, don't scare our soft-skins with your antics."

But Sideswipe whistles an impish laugh, spiralling through the water with flared colours on proud display. "Aw, come on Roddy! Let'em see what they're missing!"

Bluestreak chirps from the jetty, a webbed hand resting on their leg as he coos up at them again. He whines softly before attempting to mimic one of their words again. “Bu..bubba?” He calls out his big black and blue eyes staring up at them pleadingly.

Ever eager to one-up his peers, Sunstreaker slowly swims his way closer. He lets out a small growl at Bluestreak only for the soft skin to growl back at him. A smug look crosses his face as he lets out a pleased rumble.

Meanwhile, Jazz and Mirage watch in amusement. “You'd think if they were that desperate they'd go looking for another walker” Mirage states and Jazz just shakes his head in amusement. “five shells Sunstreaker is the one who woos them” Jazz hums to the other.

Arcee watches before finally deciding she was going to give It a shot. “Move out of the way Guppies” she calls, pulling herself up onto the jetty partially as she flares her frills and calls out in a little melody at the softone even as they begin to walk away. It earns a look from them and it makes her feel rather smug.

“Eat my tail you lot” she sparks at the boys.

__________

Later

Laughter echoes across the sand as Their cousin runs across the sand towards the water. giggling wildly, as they move up onto the rockpools that line the coast.

Bee zips towards shore with gleeful whistles. Breaking the waves as a bubbly blur of yellow and black scales. "Bubba! Bubba, here! Play now, yay!" He trills, wriggling onto the rocks and into the pools to follow.

Small hands pat his slick hide with utmost care and delight. "Hi Babybee! I'm so happy to see you again. Did you have fun while I was gone?" Together they tumble into the foamy surf that washes into the shallow area of the rock pools, the pup chattering eagerly. "Don't leave the rock pools please, you two can play in the water but don't leave my sight" they state in a stern voice.

Babybee chirps obediently, while their little cousin nods eagerly at them. "We'll be good, we promise!" they call, small hands clasped around smooth yellow-black scales. Together pup and child splash and play among the glittering tidepools teeming with hidden worlds. Shrimp dart from probing fingers, anemones bloom neon against stones.

Babybee chatters happily, chasing crabs and crunching down on them when he catches one, holding out some to his new friend who declines the crustacean. but trading shells and stones that they find as they giggle and play together.

They move to sit with their feet handling into the water of the pool, eyes watching them cautiously as they settle into the shallows chasing little fish and crabs. It was peaceful even as the oceanides began pulling themselves out of the water to watch in delight to see the pup having a playmate.

The Megs massive silhouette glides unseen amidst the dark swells, scarlet gaze fixed upon the two playing in the water. Within the pools, Bee chitters happily as he snaps at darting fish, kicking up frothy swirls for his small companion to squeal and giggle over.

They feel the large presence of Oceanide behind them, tilting their head back slightly before smiling at the large Mer. " Hey Big man, you want a cuddle?" They coo softly as he makes himself comfortable on the rocks, chin resting against his arms as he watches the two younglings play.

He regards them as they lean against his bulk with a considering hum. His rumble carries distant notes of laughter. Gently his serrated tail curls to grant shelter from the sea breeze. Bee's little trills echo the puppy's pure joy, swimming circles around their companion.

They go quiet for a moment as they lean against him as they watch the two. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your pup, I keep thinking back to what I could have done." They mutter softly. "It should be your pup out there playing with Bee".

They nearly gasp as he moves, bright scarlet eyes locked on theirs as he brings his forehead to rest against theirs. With great care he nuzzles their brow, letting a soft whine leave his throat.

They hold onto him as they both continue to watch Bee and their little cousin. The Meg remains a watchful, silent guardian.

______________________

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chevyslate158 · 11 days ago

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Pleasantries of 'Love' 18+ (Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader) Chapter 1 - Gilded Beginnings

A/n: Hey everyone! First off, I want to apologise for taking so long to upload this chapter. I’ve been working on a bunch of drafts, so you’ll have plenty of content to enjoy over the holidays! 🎄✨ I promise I’ll be uploading them very soon, so stay tuned!

I hope you enjoy this chapter of Pleasantries of 'Love' and I’m looking forward to sharing the next one with you all. 😌💖 Also, I’ll be uploading a finished draft of a short story featuring Coriolanus either tonight or tomorrow (you’re not gonna want to miss it!). 📖✨ As for Threads of Freedom, the next chapter will be up later this week, along with many more updates! 😍

Thanks for your patience, and I can’t wait to hear what you think! 💕

Word Count: 6.7k words Warnings: Power Imbalance, fixation, manipulation, obsession themes, social pressure, unrequited affection, control, age gap, gendered expectation, objectification, traditional expectations, coercion, underlying threat, unhealthy relationship dynamics (Coriolanus and Reader), eventual smut and eventual arranged marriage

The gilded ballroom brimmed with grandeur, its opulence almost overwhelming. Y/n stood near the edge of the crowd, marvelling at the way the crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars. Her breath hitched slightly, her nerves fluttering as the hum of conversation rose and fell around her. The string quartet’s melody soothed her, and she clasped her hands tightly to steady herself, her soft blush gown swaying gently with her every movement. She adored how the dress reminded her of spring blossoms, modest yet quietly radiant, like the life she lived.

Her eyes scanned the room, widening slightly at the decadent displays of wealth: trays of delicacies she had never seen before, diamonds glittering on throats, wrists and ears. A warm smile touched her lips when someone greeted her, and though their words often carried subtle barbs, she responded with kindness nonetheless. Politics and power games weren’t her nature; instead, she revelled in small, sincere exchanges. That is why she had such a small group of friends. Her upbringing had taught her the strength of humility and the beauty of honesty, even in a room filled with the opposite.

Y/n’s family lingered nearby, her father standing protectively at her side while her mother and young sister basked in the excitement of the evening. Her two closest friends, Clara and Rose, whispered animatedly about the attendees, their eyes sparkling as they tried to guess who wore which designer dress or who was the cutest couple at the event. Y/n giggled softly at their speculations, feeling a surge of gratitude for their company.

Rose twirled a lock of her auburn hair around her finger, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “Clara and I have decided we’re going to rank the best-dressed couples here tonight. Starting with them.” She tilted her head toward a striking pair near the centre of the room, their coordinated gold and ivory ensembles gleaming under the chandelier light.

Clara scoffed playfully. “Oh, please. They’re trying too hard. Look at her necklace—three layers of diamonds? Overkill!” She pointed subtly with her glass of sparkling cider. “Now, they,” she gestured to another couple near the banquet table, “look perfect. That midnight blue suit with her silver gown? Subtle and classy. No one’s outshining the other.”

Y/n chuckled softly at their analysis, letting their animated chatter ease her nerves. “I’m impressed you two know so much about Capitol fashion. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea who designed what.”

“That’s why you’ve got us,” Rose quipped, nudging Y/n again. “We’ll make sure you’re the best-dressed at every event from now on.” She paused, glancing toward a group of sharply dressed young men by the bar. “Speaking of, is it just me, or are we getting a lot of looks tonight?”

Clara smirked, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. “You’re not imagining it. I caught at least two of them glancing our way just now. Maybe they’ve never seen real beauty before.”

Y/n rolled her eyes with a laugh. “You two are ridiculous. They’re probably just wondering why we’re hovering by the wall like shy schoolgirls.”

Rose gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I’m surveying the room. It’s called being strategic.” She turned toward Y/N with a sly grin. “And besides, you should be flattered. Half the men in here can’t take their eyes off you. Including, might I add, a certain very important man.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed immediately. “Stop it,” she protested, shaking her head. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Rose teased, her voice sing-song. “He’s looking again. Right now.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered as Clara leaned in conspiratorially. “You should practice your curtsy. Who knows, you might end the night with a dance from President Snow himself.”

“I’ll do no such thing!” Y/n whispered back, mortified, though her friends’ laughter made it impossible to stay annoyed. They teased her mercilessly, but the warmth of their camaraderie eased the tension in her chest. For a moment, she allowed herself to giggle along with them, the weight of the evening forgotten—until the thought of his piercing blue eyes lingered just a little too long in her mind.

Y/n’s laughter faded as curiosity tugged at her brows furrowing ever so slightly. Was he truly looking at me? Gathering what little courage she could muster, she dared to glance in his apparent direction. Her breath caught in her throat the moment her eyes found him. President Snow stood near a marble column, a glass of deep red wine cradled effortlessly in one hand. The tailored crimson suit he wore seemed to command the attention of the room, the deep hue a stark contrast to his fair complexion and icy blue eyes. The jacket’s sharp lapels framed his broad shoulders, his polished appearance exuding an air of quiet authority that made her stomach flutter.

His features were a study in precision—strong, angular, and utterly unreadable. The slightest tilt of his head and the glint in his eye gave him an edge of mystery, as though he were privy to secrets the rest of the world would never uncover. He sipped his wine slowly, his gaze steady, and Y/N’s cheeks burned when she realised those piercing blue eyes were locked on hers once again.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. The noise of the ballroom faded into a distant hum, and all she could feel was the erratic rhythm of her heart as it skipped a beat, then another. His stare was unrelenting, both chilling and thrilling in its intensity. It was as though he could see straight through her, past her composed exterior, to the nervous energy buzzing beneath her skin.

She quickly looked away, her fingers tightening their grip on the folds of her dress. Butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach, and her thoughts became a tangle of confusion and exhilaration. What was it about his gaze that made her feel both exposed and significant all at once? She hadn’t even spoken a word to him, yet somehow, she felt as though he had marked her as someone worth noticing.

Clara’s voice pulled Y/N from her daze, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “You’ve gone quiet. Let me guess—you’ve been captivated by someone across the room?”

Y/n blinked, trying to compose herself, but her thoughts were still tangled with the image of him—the sharp angles of his face, the commanding presence he exuded, and the way his icy blue eyes had held hers with such certainty. Her heart fluttered wildly, betraying her previously composed exterior. “I’m just… lost in thought,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual.

Rose, ever perceptive, wasn’t convinced. “Lost in thought? Or lost in someone?” she teased, her grin widening as she glanced knowingly in the direction Y/n had dared to look. “Don’t deny it—you’ve been sneaking glances at him.”

Y/n’s cheeks burned, and she clutched the fabric of her gown tightly to steady and ground herself.

“That’s not true,” she whispered, though the heat rising to her face and the erratic rhythm of her heart told a different story. She couldn’t admit it—not to herself, not to anyone—but the way his eyes had lingered on her made her feel seen in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Despite her original protest, curiosity got the better of her once more, and she found herself stealing another glance. Her heart nearly stopped when she caught him watching her again, his gaze steady and unrelenting. He raised his glass ever so slightly, the faintest smirk curling at the corner of his lips, as though he knew the effect he had on her.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air heavier as though the wind was knocked out of her. Oh, dear God. Y/n’s thoughts spiralled as she quickly averted her gaze, her heart leaping to her throat. A rush of warmth spread across her cheeks, and her pulse thundered in her ears, betraying the composure she struggled to maintain.

Why does he keep looking at me? She wondered, her mind a whirlwind of nerves and wonder. She barely registered her friends’ continued chatter as her thoughts spiralled. Had she imagined the subtle acknowledgement? Or was it real?

Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them together one over the other, her friends’ laughter blending into the background. She tried to calm the butterflies fluttering wildly in her chest, but her gaze kept drifting back to him, as though pulled by some invisible force.

The night passed in a whirlwind of introductions and pleasantries, her family eager to acquaint her with men her age. Her father, ever watchful, took it upon himself to steer her toward eligible bachelors, each introduction feeling more forced than the last. One was the son of a wealthy politician, another the heir to an influential Capitol family. Y/N smiled politely, exchanged the expected small talk, and nodded at all the right moments, but her heart wasn’t in it. The son of the wealthy politician was tall but slender, with soft brown hair that fell just above his ears, and wide, nervous emerald green eyes that never quite met hers. His clothes were well-tailored, though his fidgeting hands betrayed his shyness shifting from foot to foot, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment clearly aware that his father was trying to attempt to set him up.

“Y/n,” the young man began hesitantly, his voice soft and uneven as though it might crack at any moment. “It’s… it’s been a long time since we’ve talked. You look—uh—nice tonight.” His emerald eyes darted to hers briefly before dropping back to the floor.

“Thank you, Theodore,” Y/n replied with a kind smile, her tone gentle. She remembered him well enough—Theodore Alden, the quiet boy from her school years, always sitting at the back of the classroom with his head buried in books. “It’s good to see you again. You’ve done well for yourself, I hear.”

He flushed deeper, tugging nervously at his cuffs. “Oh, I… I don’t know about that. My father likes to, um, exaggerate.” He glanced toward where his father stood a few feet away, watching them with an encouraging but overbearing smile. “I just… I wanted to say, I always admired you. You were always so kind… and graceful.”

Y/n blinked in surprise at his honesty, a warmth rising in her chest at his sincerity. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Theodore. I’ve always thought highly of you as well.”

His gaze lifted for a moment, meeting hers fully for the first time, and a tentative smile formed on his lips revealing small dimples. “You have?”

“Of course,” she said with a small laugh, trying to put him at ease. “You’ve always been intelligent and thoughtful. That’s something to be proud of.”

Before he could respond, her friends’ laughter rang out behind her, drawing her attention. She turned back to Theodore with an apologetic smile. “I should rejoin my friends. But it was lovely to speak with you again.”

“Y-yes, of course,” Theodore stammered, stepping back awkwardly accidentally bumping into a waiter in the process causing him to hastily apologise to the waiter before turning back to face you with an awkward smile on his face with his cheeks flushed. “Thank you for… for talking with me.”

As Y/n walked away, she felt a pang of guilt for leaving so quickly, but she felt as though the conversation had run its course. Glancing back once, she saw him watching her retreat with a wistful expression, his shoulders slumped slightly as though regretting he hadn’t said more.

As Y/n approached her friends, Rose and Clara exchanged knowing looks, their smiles already brimming with mischief. The moment she rejoined them, they pounced.

“Well, well,” Rose said with an exaggerated smirk, crossing her arms. “What was that all about? You and Theodore looked pretty cozy over there.”

Clara gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Don’t tell me the shy boy finally worked up the nerve to talk to you! Did he confess his undying love? Write a sonnet on the spot?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We were just catching up. It’s been years since I’ve spoken to him.”

“‘Just catching up,’” Rose echoed, mimicking Y/n’s soft tone. “Is that what you call it when a man can barely breathe around you? He looked like he was about to faint, Y/n.”

Clara giggled, leaning closer. “He’s had a thing for you since, what, first year of high school? Honestly, I think it’s adorable. The way he couldn’t stop fidgeting—poor thing was terrified of saying the wrong thing.”

“Terrified because Rose wouldn’t stop glaring at him from across the room,” Y/n shot back, giving her friend a playful nudge.

Rose held up her hands in mock innocence. “Hey, I was just trying to make sure he knew he had to impress you. Besides, he’s not really your type, is he?”

“And what exactly is my type?” Y/n asked, arching an eyebrow.

Rose and Clara exchanged another look before bursting into laughter. “Well definitely not shy, blushing bookworms,” Clara teased.

Y/n shook her head, laughing despite herself.

“Oh, come on,” Rose said, looping her arm through Y/n’s as they walked further into the ballroom. “Admit it, it was sweet. He couldn’t stop looking at you, and you can’t tell me you didn’t feel even a little flattered.”

Y/n sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Clara grinned, nudging her gently. “Whatever you say, Y/n. Just remember, if you ever do need a shy, adorable politician’s son in your life, you’ve already got one wrapped around your finger.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, the faint blush on her cheeks betraying her exasperation. “You two are impossible,” she muttered bashfully under her breath, though their teasing drew a small, reluctant smile.

Rose suddenly gasped, her eyes lighting up with mock realization. “Oh, right! How could I forget? You weren’t exactly paying attention to poor Theodore, were you? Not when you were giving heart eyes to the president earlier.”

Clara burst into laughter, clutching her side. “She’s right! Y/n, you practically melted on the spot. I’ve never seen you blush that much in my life. Should we curtsy every time we walk by you now? Future First Lady and all?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, her face flushing as she waved them off. “I was not giving him heart eyes! Stop it, people will hear you!”

Rose smirked, tapping her chin dramatically. “Oh, you weren’t? Because I’m pretty sure he was looking at you, too.”

Clara nudged Y/n with her elbow. “Come on, admit it. Just for us. You felt something, didn’t you?”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands as her friends giggled uncontrollably.

Yet even as she humoured with her friends on her family’s previous attempts to match her with Capitol’s finest, her gaze kept drifting across the room. No matter where she was or whom she spoke to, her eyes sought him out, as if drawn by some invisible force. Each time she looked, he was closer than the last time.

Coriolanus Snow moved with calculated ease, weaving through clusters of politicians and dignitaries with his effortless charm. His crimson suit was impossible to miss, and neither was the way he glanced in her direction, his gaze lingering just long enough to send her heart into overdrive. His every move seemed casual, but Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that he was purposefully closing the distance between them.

Her pulse quickened as she realised he was nearing her side of the room, his slow but deliberate path bringing him closer with each passing moment. He stopped to exchange a few words with a senator, then moved on to greet a wealthy benefactor, all while subtly inching toward her. Each glance, each small shift, made her chest tighten with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Y/n, are you even listening?” her mother’s voice broke through her thoughts gently tugging her away from her friends and close to her side so she could join in on the conversation. “Lord Albright was just telling us about his family’s estate outside the Capitol.”

“Oh,” she said quickly, forcing her attention back to the conversation. “That sounds lovely.”

But her distraction didn’t go unnoticed. Rose stifled a laugh, her eyes flicking knowingly toward where the young president stood. “You’ve been staring all night stop being so obvious,” she teased in a low voice. “He’s going to think you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not—” Y/n began, but her words caught in her throat as her gaze unintentionally flicked back toward him. This time, their eyes met again, and her breath hitched. He was only a few paces away now, his sharp features illuminated under the golden light of the chandeliers. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the deliberate way he was closing the gap.

Just as the moment felt unbearably intense, her father spoke up. “It’s getting late. We should head home before the streets grow too busy.”

Y/n’s stomach dropped. “Already?” she asked, a hint of reluctance slipping into her tone.

Her mother gave her a gentle smile, guiding her toward the exit. “It’s been a long evening, dear. You’ll have other chances to socialise.”

As they made their way toward the grand doors, Y/n couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder one last time. Snow was standing where she’d last seen him, his piercing gaze following her departure. There was something in his expression—calculated, almost possessive—that sent a shiver down her spine.

She tore her eyes away, her heart pounding as she stepped out into the cool night air. Even as the carriage pulled away, the image of him lingered, etched into her mind like an indelible mark she couldn’t shake. Deep down she had a gut feeling this wouldn't be the last time she saw President Snow.

-Two days after the grand event- Y/n found herself seated at the dining table with her family. The cozy glow of the chandelier illuminated the room, filling it with warmth as the evening meal unfolded. Plates clinked softly, and light chatter wove through the air, her parents and siblings discussing the usual topics of the day.

It was then the soft knock came at the door. A courier, dressed sharply in Capitol livery, handed a small, elegant envelope to their housekeeper. The sealed parchment bore the unmistakable crest of the President. Y/n's heart fluttered at the sight of it as it was carefully placed in her hands.

“Who could that be from?” her mother asked, her curiosity barely contained.

“I have no idea,” Y/n murmured, her fingers trembling as she broke the seal. Her family’s conversation fell into a hushed silence, all eyes now on her as she carefully unfolded the letter.

As her gaze swept across the elegant script, her breath hitched. She could barely process the words, the formal tone, or the undeniable authority that each sentence carried. When she reached the end of the letter, her cheeks were flushed, her mind whirling with the weight of the invitation. -Start Of Letter-

The Capitol, Office of the President, Panem,

Dearest Y/n Y/l/n

I hope this letter finds you well. Allow me to formally introduce myself: I am Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem, though I suspect you may already know of me. Yet, in turn, I must admit I knew little of you until recently when fate allowed our paths to cross. At my recent formal event, amidst a sea of notable guests, it was you who caught my eye. There was a quiet grace in your demeanour, an elegance that demanded notice yet sought none. Intrigued, I found myself wanting to learn more about the person who carried such an air of distinction.

As a man who values intelligence, poise, and refinement, I feel compelled to extend an invitation for us to become better acquainted. It is rare for someone to leave such an impression, and rarer still for me to act upon it. However, I find myself intrigued by the possibilities that may arise from our acquaintance. To that end, I would be honoured if you would join me for an intimate dinner at Le Marbre Étoilé this Friday evening at 8 o’clock for I have already taken the liberty of reserving a table. The setting is one of the finest in the Capitol, offering an atmosphere befitting such an esteemed guest as yourself.

While I understand the obligations of daily life can sometimes interfere with such invitations, I must stress the significance of this occasion. My schedule, as I am sure you can appreciate, is relentlessly occupied, leaving little room for rescheduling. I trust you will recognise the importance of seizing this opportunity and make the necessary adjustments to your own commitments. You are, of course, free to decline. However, I would hope such a decision is carefully considered, for an audience with the President is a privilege not lightly afforded.

I eagerly await your company and trust you will honour my invitation with your presence.

Until we meet, I remain yours with the utmost anticipation.

Warm regards, Coriolanus Snow President of Panem

-End of letter-

“What does it say?” her father pressed, leaning forward with a look of concern.

“It’s…” Y/n hesitated, still struggling to believe it herself. “It’s from President Snow.” Her voice was quiet, yet it seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “He… He’s invited me to dinner. This Friday.”

A moment of stunned silence followed before her mother clasped her hands together. “President Snow? Invited you personally? How extraordinary!”

Her father frowned slightly, his protective nature stirring. “Why would the President take such an interest in you, Y/n?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “He said he noticed me at the event and wanted to become better acquainted. He’s already made arrangements for dinner at Le Marbre Étoilé.”

Her mother’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Le Marbre Étoilé! It’s the finest establishment in the Capitol. What an incredible honour!”

Her father rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It is unusual, but… he is the President. It wouldn’t be wise to decline.”

Her younger sister giggled, teasing. “Looks like someone caught the eye of Panem’s most powerful man.”

“Enough,” her father said firmly, though a trace of pride crept into his tone. “Y/n, you’ll go. You’ll represent our family with dignity and respect.”

“But…” Y/n faltered. “What if I embarrass myself? What if I’m not what he expects?”

Her mother placed a gentle hand on hers. “You’re everything he could expect and more, darling. Be yourself—your grace and poise will do the rest.”

Y/n looked at each of her family members in turn, feeling a mix of trepidation and resolve. The weight of the invitation was heavy, but their encouragement wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

Finally, she nodded, a small but determined smile breaking through her nerves. “I’ll go,” she said softly. “I’ll make sure I don’t let any of you down.”

Her family’s approval bolstered her spirits, but as she folded the letter and set it beside her plate, her thoughts drifted back to the man who had written it. President Snow—a name so synonymous with power and control. She wondered, for the briefest moment, what kind of man she would truly meet that Friday night. -Friday-

Friday evening arrived faster than Y/n anticipated, bringing with it a flurry of nerves and excitement. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange, while the glow of Capitol lights began to twinkle in the distance.

Her bedroom was a whirlwind of fabrics and accessories as her mother and younger sister fussed over her, each determined to ensure she looked perfect for the evening ahead. A soft gown of midnight blue had been chosen—a colour that complimented her complexion and highlighted the delicate curves and frame of her body. The fabric shimmered faintly under the light, subtle yet captivating, with a neckline that was modest but elegant it dipped just low enough to catch the eye but not enough to be deemed scandalous, with the dress flowing gracefully to the floor.

“Hold still, darling,” her mother instructed, carefully fastening the clasp of an understated pearl necklace around Y/n’s neck. “You look exquisite. Truly, like a vision.”

Her younger sister grinned, hands busy smoothing the delicate folds of the gown making sure there was not a single crease. “You’re going to leave everyone speechless, especially the president.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed at the mention of President Snow, her stomach twisting with nerves. “Do you think this is too much?” she asked, glancing at her reflection in the mirror.

“Not at all,” her mother reassured her, brushing a few stray hairs back into the intricate updo they had styled. “It’s elegant. Sophisticated. Exactly the impression you want to leave.”

Her sister couldn’t resist teasing. “You’re going to make every woman in that restaurant jealous, Y/n. But don’t forget—he’s the one who invited you. That says everything.”

Y/n managed a small smile, though her heart still raced. The weight of the invitation and the significance of the evening felt almost overwhelming. Yet, beneath the nerves was a flicker of curiosity, a quiet wonder at what awaited her.

Once her hair was set, her makeup applied with a light and delicate touch, and the finishing details of her ensemble in place, her mother stepped back to admire her work. “Perfect,” she declared with a smile of pride. “Absolutely perfect.”

Y/n turned to the mirror, studying her reflection. For the first time that evening, she allowed herself to feel a sliver of confidence. She had to admit, she did look elegant, the kind of elegance she imagined would be expected of someone dining with the President.

Her father appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of protectiveness and awe. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft. “Are you ready?”

Y/n took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of her gown with trembling hands. “I think so,” she said quietly.

Her mother gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders. “You’ll do wonderfully, darling. Remember, just be yourself.”

As she descended the staircase to the waiting car, her family’s encouraging smiles lingered in her mind. Though the thought of meeting President Snow still made her heart race, Y/n was determined to carry herself with grace and dignity, no matter what the evening held.

The soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the manor living room marked each passing moment as Y/n sat with her family, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her midnight blue gown cascading elegantly to the floor. Her father paced near the window peeking out discreetly every so often, his stern expression masking the nervous energy he exuded. Her mother, ever composed, sat gracefully beside Y/n, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. Beside her, Y/n’s younger sister fidgeted, her excitement barely contained as she sat perched on the arm of the couch. “I’m sure he’ll be here any moment,” her mother said, glancing at the ornate clock above the mantle. Her tone was calm, but the glimmer of pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Do you think he’ll actually come to the door?” her sister asked, her wide eyes alight with curiosity. “Or will the driver just honk and wait outside?”

Her father shot her a look. “A man in his position would do well to show proper respect.” Her father stood near the window, peeking out and looking to see if the president had arrived yet. He turned to Y/n, his gaze softening. “Remember, this is just a dinner, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a mix of encouragement and caution. “Be polite, but don’t let anyone make you feel uncomfortable.” Y/n nodded, her heart pounding against her ribs. The weight of the evening ahead pressed down on her, but she met her father’s gaze with quiet determination.

The sound of an approaching vehicle, smooth and unmistakable, silenced the room. Y/N’s heart skipped as the sleek black Capitol limo came into view, its polished surface gleaming under the glow of the estate’s exterior lights. The car rolled to a stop in front of the manor, and after a moment, the door opened.

Coriolanus Snow emerged with the kind of poise that commanded attention. Dressed in a tailored black suit with crimson accents—a subtle yet striking statement of power—he exuded confidence. In his hand, he carried a single white rose. He paused briefly, adjusting his coat, before making his way up the stone steps to the front door.

The knock that followed echoed through the room, sharp and deliberate. Y/n’s father straightened, crossing the room to answer. When he opened the door, Coriolanus greeted him with a polite, disarming smile, his icy blue eyes betraying nothing of his true intentions.

“Good evening, Mr. Y/l/n,” he said smoothly, his voice like silk. “I am Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem. Thank you for allowing me the honour of escorting your daughter this evening.”

Y/n’s father hesitated, sizing him up for a moment before stepping aside. “President Snow,” he said, his tone cautious yet respectful. “Welcome to our home. Please, come in.”

Coriolanus stepped inside, his sharp features framed by the soft glow of the chandelier overhead. His gaze swept the room briefly before settling on Y/N, who had risen from her seat, her composure steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted, inclining his head with a practised air of courtesy. “You look radiant this evening.”

“Thank you, President Snow,” Y/n replied softly, curtsying slightly, her voice steady even as her heart raced.

With a small, calculated smile, he extended the white rose to her. “A token for a memorable evening,” he said, his tone gentle, though his eyes gleamed with something more inscrutable.

Y/n accepted the rose with both hands, her fingers brushing the delicate petals. Before she could respond, he snapped the stem cleanly, leaving the flower intact. Leaning forward, he gently tucked it behind her ear, his touch light but deliberate.

“There,” he said, his voice low, almost intimate. “Perfect.”

Her family watched the exchange in silence, yet her mother beamed at the exchange while her sister barely stifled an excited squeal. The weight of the moment was heavy in the room. With an air of finality, Coriolanus stepped back, offering his arm to Y/n. “Shall we?”

Y/n glanced at her parents, who both gave small, reassuring nods. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand lightly on his arm.

Just as he guided her toward the door Snow turned back to her father, his tone unwavering as they were about to exit the front door of their manor. “I assure you, Mr. Y/l/n, your daughter will be in the utmost care this evening. I deeply value the trust you’ve extended to me.”

Though Y/n’s father maintained his reserved composure, he gave a measured nod. “See that you do.”

The sleek black limousine gleamed under the streetlights as Coriolanus Snow held the door open for Y/n. His movements were precise, every action exuding an air of control and authority. Y/n hesitated for the briefest moment, casting a glance back at her family standing in the doorway of the manor before stepping inside the luxurious vehicle.

The interior of the limo was nothing short of breathtaking, a haven of understated opulence. The soft leather seats were impeccably stitched, their deep, rich hue complementing the gleaming mahogany panelling that lined the walls. The subtle glow of warm, recessed lighting cast a golden hue over the space, illuminating the fine crystal decanters that held Capitol's most exclusive vintages in a small, built-in bar.

The faint aroma of expensive cologne mingled with the delicate scent of fresh roses arranged in an understated vase near the side panel. Every detail spoke of wealth and precision, from the velvet-lined armrests to the silent hum of the temperature-controlled environment.

Snow followed closely, settling into the seat beside her with a measured grace. His movements were deliberate, exuding an air of calm control as he adjusted his position. His tailored suit caught the light subtly, the fabric hinting at its impeccable craftsmanship, while his piercing gaze swept the cabin briefly before returning to her, his presence filling the intimate space effortlessly.

As the car began to move, the city lights of the Capitol streamed past the tinted windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours that danced across the sleek interior. The glow of neon signs illuminated towering buildings, their facades adorned with holographic advertisements that shimmered like liquid gold. Streets were alive with motion, a symphony of luxury vehicles gliding past pedestrians dressed in extravagant finery.

Capitol elites wandered the bustling avenues, their laughter and animated conversations spilling into the night air. Women adorned in opulent gowns, encrusted with gemstones that caught the light, strolled arm-in-arm with men in tailored suits boasting rich, exotic fabrics. Groups lingered near gilded restaurant entrances, their expressions a mix of idle amusement and carefully practised airs of superiority, waiting to enter establishments where chandeliers glittered like starlight through tall windows.

The gentle hum of the engine was the only sound for a moment before Snow broke the silence.

“I trust your family approves of our outing this evening,” he said, his tone conversational but with an undertone of authority.

“They were… a bit surprised by your invitation, Mr. President,” Y/n replied, her voice soft and almost hesitant, her gaze flickering to meet his before dropping again.

“Coriolanus,” he corrected smoothly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “There’s no need for formality between us tonight.”

Y/n nodded, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The grandeur of the Capitol outside the window was both mesmerising and intimidating, but she focused on maintaining her composure.

After a short ride, the limousine pulled up in front of Le Marbre Étoilé, the Capitol's most exclusive dining establishment. The grand facade of the restaurant was illuminated with golden lights, its towering columns and intricate marble carvings radiating opulence. A valet immediately stepped forward to open the door, bowing slightly as Coriolanus exited the vehicle.

He turned to offer Y/n his hand, his gaze unwavering as she placed her fingers lightly in his. His palm was cool but firm, his grip tightening around hers with a subtle yet possessive strength. “Welcome to Le Marbre Étoilé,” he said, his voice carrying a note of pride, each word measured and deliberate. His touch lingered as if to ground her amidst the overwhelming grandeur surrounding them, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers, commanding her full attention.

The restaurant’s entrance opened to reveal a grand lobby adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, and towering arrangements of fresh roses. The murmured conversations of the Capitol elite filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of a string quartet playing in the corner.

Snow placed a hand lightly on the small of Y/n’s back, guiding her through the crowd. Heads turned subtly as they passed, whispers rippling in their wake. Y/n couldn’t help but feel the weight of every gaze, but Snow walked with an unbothered confidence, as though the entire evening had been orchestrated solely for them.

A maître d’ appeared, bowing deeply. “Mr. President, your table is ready,” he announced, gesturing toward a private section of the restaurant.

“Excellent,” Snow replied, his tone clipped but polite. He glanced at Y/n, his icy blue eyes momentarily softening. “Shall we?”

Y/n nodded, allowing herself to be led further into the gilded halls of Le Marbre Étoilé, the quiet elegance of the setting only heightening her sense of anticipation.

The dinner began with a glass of sparkling Capitol wine, its bubbles shimmering like liquid gold in the crystal flutes. Y/n’s fingers trembled slightly as she lifted the glass, stealing a glance at Snow from beneath her lashes. His every movement was deliberate, and precise, from the way he swirled the wine in his glass to the subtle tilt of his head as he observed her.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked, breaking the silence that had settled over their secluded corner of the grand restaurant.

Y/n’s cheeks warmed, and she placed the glass back onto the table with care. “I suppose I’m not used to being in places like this,” she admitted, her voice soft.

Snow leaned forward slightly, the flickering candlelight casting sharp shadows over his features. “And yet, you carry yourself as though you belong here,” he said, his tone almost disarming. “Your poise betrays any claim of unfamiliarity.”

Y/n glanced down at her plate, feeling the weight of his words. “That’s kind of you to say, Mr. President.”

“Coriolanus,” he corrected smoothly once again. “You’ll find I prefer a more personal approach during private engagements.”

She nodded, her lips curving into a faint, polite smile, though she didn’t trust herself to speak again just yet. Her shyness was a strange comfort in this setting; it shielded her from the vulnerability of meeting his gaze too often.

The meal was a parade of Capitol extravagant appetisers of delicately arranged seafood, main courses of tender meat paired with rare vegetables, and desserts that looked more like works of art than food. Each dish was introduced with an air of reverence by the maître d’, and while Y/n appreciated the effort, she found herself more focused on the man seated across from her.

“Do you often dine with guests in such an... exclusive setting?” she asked cautiously, breaking the silence as she carefully cut into her entrée.

Snow’s lips twitched into what could only be described as a shadow of a smile. “Rarely,” he admitted, his icy blue eyes locking onto hers. “I value my time too greatly to squander it on idle company. This, however...” He paused, lifting his glass in a subtle gesture toward her. “This is a notable exception.”

Her heart fluttered, and she quickly dropped her gaze, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. “That’s... flattering,” she murmured, fumbling for the right words.

“You’re being modest again,” he replied, his tone gentler than she expected. “I find it refreshing, truthfully. The Capitol is so often a place of excess, of posturing. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t demand to be noticed but commands attention nonetheless.”

The compliment left her breathless, and she focused on her plate, her appetite fading as nervous energy took its place. “I’m not sure I deserve such praise,” she said finally, daring a glance at him.

Snow set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, studying her with a piercing intensity. “That humility is precisely what makes you deserving,” he said quietly, as though it were an irrefutable fact.

For a moment, the room seemed smaller, the grand space folding in on itself until it was just the two of them. The orchestra’s music faded into the background and the clink of glasses and murmured conversation from the other diners echoed a distant hum.

Y/n took a small sip of her wine, her fingers gripping the glass tightly as she tried to steady her nerves. There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her—not unkind, but calculated, as though he were peeling back her layers and uncovering secrets even she didn’t know she had.

“You’re quiet again,” he observed, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

She managed a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I suppose I’m still not used to this.”

“Then allow me to make you more comfortable,” he said smoothly, raising his glass. “To new beginnings, Y/n.”

She hesitated before lifting her glass to meet his, her smile tentative. “To new beginnings.”

As their glasses clinked softly, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner was more than just a meal. It felt like the start of something she couldn’t quite name—something thrilling, terrifying, and inescapable.

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bird-inacage · 1 month ago

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The Heart Killers: Character Interviews (Kant/Bison Focus)

So this proved to be super interesting. Let us see what can be gleaned from these brief little interview segments with Kant and Bison.

Immediately, I'm struck by how serious and stoic Kant comes across. He has a very mature aura, and is quite hard to read (which I guess is a plus considering what he gets up to). I didn't expect this, based on how flirty and forward he appeared to be in the trailer, and that makes me wonder if it's all part of a persona he's playing. Or whether the real Kant is in fact more measured and introspective, and Bison just brings out his playful side?

A notable trait that gets signposted repeatedly is Kant's care for his brother Babe. I believe Khao has made a similar comment about him being family-oriented. It makes a tonne of sense to me as to why Bison would be drawn to a 'family man'; someone who has strong family values, when Bison's essentially been rejected by his own.

"My goal in life is to make sure my brother grows up into a good man. I want to make sure he doesn't feel like he's lacking anything. We're all we've got right now." "I just live day by day, just keeping with my goal which is making sure my brother grows up well." This is so telling of Kant's mentality. Not only does it suggest that Kant is a stand-in parent of sorts, but that he doesn't live for himself. (Which could be something of a parallel to Bison - who is unable to live by his own rules). His goals centre entirely on his loved ones' needs being met and supporting them. This definitely gives provider with self-sacrificing tendencies.

"I feel like my goal is just to make sure my loved ones get to live their dreams. For now, I just want my brother to have a good life. But one day, if someone comes into my life and I love them, my goal would be to make sure they get to achieve their dreams." And yet another selfless, touching sentiment. The desire to aid your loved ones to actualise their dreams, possibly before or over your own. I expect Kant will be a very doting, nurturing soul. (Lucky Bison).

I wonder if Kant and Fadel will empathise with one another over their respective little brothers, and the sense of responsibility that comes with it. Bonding opportunity perhaps?

The most mysterious thing Kant says is "One more thing I'm not a big fan of is the beach." (The reason is personal). Curious. First has specifically talked about filming on the beach, where they were able to do a lot more improv. Any speculations on the above are wide open.

Now let's move onto our resident Murder Kitten. I've always said that Bison reads as a real sweetie-pie based on everything we've seen thus far. He's very animated and expressive. Khao very deliberately uses a softer, lighter vocal register as Bison, which just accentuates this cute, darling image. A real child at heart who wants to make up for a life he didn't get to lead. "I go out, I'm just trying to live outside the burger shop." His childhood dream about seeing the northern lights is just another example of a boy who has daydreamed of escape, and welcomes any excuse to be as far away from his actual life as possible. He also mentions being fond of a stray cat who resides near their burger bar, who he enjoys feeding and playing with. This precious boy, I cant. (Note: I need to have scenes of this in the show PURR-LEASE).

Everything about Bison as a person feels at odds with his violent lifestyle, which seems to be a central conflict in Bison's character arc. It does beg the question of what if Bison had never been adopted, what kind of life would he be living instead? And I think this drives Kant's desire to fight for Bison's chance at a new start. A boy with big dreams meets a man who wants to realise them. What a match.

Another comment we've heard before in the pilot is "I also don't like liars", no doubt foreshadowing the fallout when he finds out Kant did exactly that. I do think it's likely that whatever drives Kant to take the detective job has reasons to do with his own brother. He may wish to clear his record of anything untoward for his brother's sake. Based on this premise, when Bison does find out why Kant did what he did, I think that will help soothe any hard feelings.

On a side note - I've seen a comment mention that Kant apparently calls Bison 'kitten' in the novel. ERM HULLO?!! I will allow one spoiler, and that is whether this is true or not. And if so, I DEMAND that it is a featured pet name in the show, because why on earth would you miss an opportunity like that?!

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I'll be updating as the show airs.

#the heart killers #the heart killers the series #THK #THK meta #kantbison #firstkhao #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #no novel spoilers pls!#kantbison is going to be a LETHAL combo #every tiny tidbit makes me love them so much more already #kant giving daddy energy both inside and outside the bedroom #if kant does call bison 'kitten' in the show - i'll die on the spot #seriously though first's seriousness here is so distinctly different to sand or akk - closer to alan a smidge but still different you know #just actors doing actor-y things - god bless them

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ideasengineering · 5 months ago

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Unleash your creativity with Arena Animation Salt Lake the Best Graphic designing centre, offering the best graphic designing courses in Salt Lake, Kolkata. Find the top-rated institute near you and embark on a journey to become a graphic design expert.

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sophie-frm-mars · 1 year ago

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We've just spent 3 days on the ZAD filming a documentary and I'm really excited. If you don't know, the ZAD is a French term that means Zone a Defence and means somewhere squatted or occupied to resist the state. In particular we were on the Notre Dame des Landes ZAD, a massive area of biodiverse wetland that was squatted by farmers, ecologists, anarchists and communists for over a decade to stop the French state building a new airport near Nantes. Eventually the state gave up and the squatters won, and now they live there outside of modern capitalism taking care each other in a manner that it wouldn't be unreasonable to call real, actual communism that's happening inside the imperial core right now

We stayed at pa Rolandiere, one of many little communes within the ZAD, and home to Jay and Isa, authors of We Are Nature Defending Itself. Like many of the places we saw, there is a central common living area and lots of little cabins and caravans around for sleeping in, but la Rolandiere also has a couple of pretty unique things. They have a lighthouse, and a visitors welcome centre. Jay told me this is because they see conviviality as a certain kind of revolutionary practice. The state paints the people on the ZAD as terrifying violent criminals, so having a welcome centre for visitors to come and learn about the ZAD is a kind of direct resistance to that.

I learned a hell of a lot being there. I talked to farmers, artists, squatters, a medic, a botanist and of course, lots of communists. I also walked miles through forests and fields and got to forage some interesting mushrooms which was very special for me. I'm looking forward to seeing the documentary develop into a real thing, but sitting on the train back from Nantes to Paris right now I'm reflecting on it all and I really feel like I'm coming down off an incredible high. This morning I was weeding a row of carrots!

I keep thinking about our interview with the botanist Jasmine, who told us that on the ZAD it's really hard to be lonely, because even if you aren't around human beings, you feel the presence of all the plants and animals in a way that you don't do anywhere else, and I really think it's true. I'm going yo be thinking about the ZAD for a long, long time. I may not have been a part of their struggle but I hope that my documentary can be. We are not defending nature, we are nature defending itself 🌺🍄🦎

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clincberriganvet · 3 months ago

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horsfields · 10 months ago

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New delivery of lots of pottery animals!

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 4 days ago

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The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 3

Source for pic

Trouble 3

Word Count: 4959

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I should have chapter 4 already finished... but it's not completed yet... I haven't written almost anything this week! I know with the hollidays it will be hectic around here, but I have a few days where the office is going to be closed, so maybe I can write a bit more! Fingers crossed! Until then, please enjoy the calmness before the storm!

Masterlist

“Morning, Bug.” Shanks fills a mug of coffee for you and sets it down on the table near your plate of bacon and eggs, beside a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Morning, Dad. Thanks for the coffee, but aren't the flowers a bit too much? It's not my birthday…” You mumble between yawns.

“They're not from me…” Shanks smirks and nods at a note that's tucked in with the silk ribbon.

Brow rising, your fingers brush the petals of a deep crimson poppy before they catch the note between them. ‘Wild and beautiful, just like you.’

What? Who?

Despite the lovely gesture, you can't shake the slightest feeling of unease, it tugs at your stomach, leaving you queasy and suspicious.

“Who's it from?” Shanks tries to hide his curiosity but falls short when he reaches over your shoulder to glimpse the note.

“I have no idea.”

“Come on! Not even the slightest hint?” You shake your head while your mind conjures up images of a slightly not-safe-for-work dream you had with a certain green-haired cop, and you blush unintentionally.

Obviously. Shanks picks it up.

“You and Zoro seemed pretty cosy when I arrived yesterday…”

“It's not from him… I think.” You deflect the implications, not wanting to read too much into it yourself. “He’s not the type for grand gestures.”

Shanks hums in agreement while placing his coffee cup in the sink. “I see what you mean.” But then he places his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at his unbearable smirk. “Though do not underestimate a man in love.”

“Dad!” You feel your ears getting hot as you get up suddenly, looking for a vase to set the flowers on.

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs.

“He’s not… we… we’re just friends! I just got back.” You fuss with the flowers until they’re all spread beautifully on the vase and then set them at the centre of the table.

Shanks pouts and stares at you through the flowers, across from you. “Friends.” He air quotes with two fingers. “I’ve been there, Bug.”

“Agh! You’re impossible, Dad.”

But he might also be right. Because if last night was any indication, you and Zoro might be crossing the ‘just friends’ barrier soon.

And, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with that.

-*-

Shanks tells you to put a hold on your job hunt because he’ll be gone for about three weeks to a month for a horse show on an island in the South Blue and he’ll need you to take care of the animals and manage the farm chores.

So you spend the next week getting reacquainted with most of your father’s tasks in addition to the ones you had taken over ever since coming back.

The gifts keep coming.

Every morning there are chocolates, or flowers, or stuffed animals, little trinkets… The notes are rather simple, always evoking your beauty, but short and nondescript. You are no closer to knowing who they’re from now than you were on the first day you got them.

Shanks keeps hinting that it might be Zoro, but you doubt that very much. Besides the fact that he’s not one for romantic gestures, he would’ve said something about the gifts after six straight days.

And it’s not like you haven’t been chatting… not in person, since you’ve been busy at the farm and he’s been pulling double shifts to have the Saturday off again, but you text every day.

Short texts, to the point, much like Zoro is, but he always asks how you are and if you need anything.

And knowing he’s trying to take care of you leaves a very warm feeling in your chest. Especially because your clumsiness almost brought you to the clinic twice just this week. You have to thank whichever deity is watching over you because, even though you hurt yourself, it’s never serious enough to send you to the hospital.

“When are you leaving?” You ask Shanks while packing beverages, muffins and a cake you’ve baked for today’s chosen group activity.

“Let’s see, today’s Saturday, Beckman says his helper will arrive Monday morning to keep in charge of his farm, so sometime Monday afternoon, Bug. Why? Missing your Daddy already?”

You are.

“No! I just want to make sure you carry all of your medicine and that you have Dr. Law’s emergency contact with you, in case you need it–”

“I’m not going to drag Law all the way to the South Blue just because–”

“I called him and he said you should call anytime, so you’re going to call if you need him!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Shanks has got to be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met.

“Where are you going?” He hisses when you swat his hand away as he tries to steal a salty bacon muffin you’re storing in a container. Then you relent and let him have it.

“Just one, Dad! We’re going on a picnic in the park.” You say with a grin. “Nami organised it, of course. We’re going to spend the day hanging out, playing games, and socializing.”

Shanks nods, never breaking your gaze, while trying to surreptitiously steal another muffin. This time you slap his hand with the lid of the container, and he yelps. His pout is quickly replaced by a smirk. “Is Officer Zoro going?”

You’re sure your nonchalant look can’t disguise the crimson blush tainting your cheeks, but you try to pay it no mind. “Yes. And Luffy, and Usopp, Chopper, Sanji–”

“I was going to tell you to be careful, but I’m sure Officer Zoro is going to keep you safe from all harm.” Shanks taunts and you seethe, hands flying to your hips.

“What are you, Dad, ten?” He guffaws as he successfully manages to distract you and steals another muffin before sprinting away from you and the kitchen.

“Be safe, Bug! Have fun!”

Seriously. How is this man a father?

-*-

Nami swings by your house with Vivi to pick you up for the picnic. You notice Robin’s absence in the car, and both girls giggle.

“Sabo’s picking Robin up. They’ll meet us there.” Vivi answers, and your mouth hangs open.

“Are they a thing?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” Nami laughs as she fixes her hair in the rearview mirror while waiting for the light to turn green. “Much like you and Zoro, I think.”

You choke on your own saliva, and it takes you a good minute to regain proper breathing functions, all while Nami and Vivi erupt into cackles and giggles.

“We’re just friends!” You say after you’ve caught your breath.

“Sure, honey. We all believe that.” Vivi turns on the front seat to pat your knee in a condescending manner while you blush.

“There’s so much heat coming off you two whenever you’re close that I don’t know how you still haven’t spontaneously combusted.” Nami quips, and you purse your lips. She’s not wrong there. “I mean, you’ve always sort of clicked, but now… daaaaamn!”

You sigh and bite your lip, trying to contain a giggle from erupting. “Who else is going to meet us there?” You ask, changing the subject and Nami shakes her head, knowing all too well what you’re doing, but not pressing on the matter.

-*-

It’s a beautiful day for a picnic, and the park is the perfect setting for the beginning of a wonderful midday. There are rows and rows of trees, shade galore, small cobblestone pathways for long walks, and even a small creek providing a soft lull alongside the soft giggles of children.

You and the girls are setting up rows of blankets on the grass, by the shade of the tall trees, when the group begins to arrive. You lift your head, hand sheltering your eyes from the sun, and scan the crowd. Luffy, Barto, Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper are approaching the treeline. They probably rode together.

A slight breeze dishevels your hair as your eyes linger behind, but there’s no green mane of hair in sight yet. An absent sigh leaves your lips before you spy Nami’s knowing smirk aimed your way.

She doesn’t say anything, but you blush anyway. Her unspoken words linger around you like a thick fog. You are eager to see Zoro. She knows it, you know it, hell, anyone who saw you two interact lately knows it.

But you vow to retain some semblance of dignity and pretend to fuss over the blankets and small folding chairs. You’re so absorbed in your task that you don’t even see him approach.

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

The smile that graces your lips is instant and unstoppable. You turn slightly and bite your lower lip when your eyes meet his. Why does every shirt he wears seem so tight against his muscles?

“Hardly! I’m just setting up chairs!” But as you deliver the words, the chair you were opening snaps shut, almost catching your fingers, and you yelp.

“You’re a menace.” His tone is both amused and resigned, almost as if he knew something of the kind would happen, was expecting it, even.

“It attacked me!” You defend yourself weakly, a giggle bubbling up in your chest because he is right. You are a menace.

Zoro ends up helping you set the chairs, and you don’t even try to stop him. Both because you’re very likely to end up either hurting yourself or breaking a chair, and because he keeps brushing his shoulders and hands with yours, and the touch is welcomed.

Robin and Sabo arrive with flushed cheeks - you can almost see Nami registering that fact for later probing - and soon after, Franky and Brook, two older men you still haven’t met but Luffy quickly introduces you to, saying they’re also part of the gang.

You see Sanji already setting up food on the blankets, and he greets you warmly. “Hi, Sanji. You rode with Mosshead?”

“Oi?” Zoro snaps, and you ignore him.

“I did, Madame, and it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. Please remind me not to do it again.”

You giggle when Zoro’s brows knit together, his hands clenched into fists. “Tch, shitty cook, next time you ride with me, it will be in my patrol car and I’ll be dragging you straight to prison.”

Sanji starts to fume, his pursed lips crumpling the cigarette dangling from his lips, and you grimace. “Hey, hey, boys, it was just a joke!”

Nami sighs as they butt heads and continue arguing. “Never mind that.” She tells you. “Any chance they get to get up close and personal, they take it. They have a weird bromance thing going on.” She raises her hands defensively in the air. “I swear, for a moment there I thought they were going to be a thing, but Sanji loves women too much and Zoro is a man with a goal-oriented mind. Even if it’s someone he set his sights on a lifetime ago.”

Your brow raises at her as she smirks that all-knowing smirk. But she leaves it at that and stands in the middle of the boys, dragging Sanji by the scruff of his dress shirt, telling him the girls are hungry, which promptly sets him back to the task of setting up the food.

“Shitty cook…” You hear Zoro mumble as he sets his hands in his pockets and kicks a blade of grass. It’s cute how flustered he gets. Then his eye sets on you and he frowns with a low grumble. “Oi, I didn’t forget you called me Mosshead.”

You set a hand on your heart, feigning repentance. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Mosshead. I forgot your title.”

“Trouble…” He lowers his tone in mock warning, and you smile, taking a step back, hands in a defensive stance.

“Lord Moss, Knight–” Your antics are cut short by a piercing yelp when Zoro jumps and tries to catch you, but somehow, you swerve away from his grasp and start to run, an unbridled laugh filling your lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just joking!”

“Repentance doesn’t dissolve the crime! Come here, Trouble!” He sprints, though you suspect he’s hardly even trying, and you cackle, running faster, the voices of the group fading into the distance.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Maybe you should’ve measured your words, because as soon as he hears the challenging tone in your voice, he sprints faster, and you barely have time to breathe before his arm wraps around your waist and he swirls you in the air, making you scream and laugh before he pulls your back against his chest.

Heart pounding against your ribs, cheeks flushed from running and breath catching in your throat, you feel your legs shaking when Zoro’s warm breath tickles your neck. “Gotcha.” He whispers, and you notice he’s not even out of breath while you look like you ran a marathon.

The world dissolves into just this moment. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees are nothing but background noise to the deafening pounding in your chest and the buzzing in your ears.

Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch Zoro’s eye fixed on you, a wild smirk on his lips. “What now, officer? Are you going to arrest me?”

Damn. That was supposed to come out playfully, not sultrily. Right?

“Depends.” Did his voice get huskier? “Are you going to resist arrest, Trouble?”

You feel your throat bobbing up and down at all the wild fantasies running through your mind. The way he uses that nickname manages to send shivers down your spine and heat straight into your core.

“Obviously.” You sound breathless, and it's a good thing you can blame that sorry state on the run, or you wouldn't know how to explain it.

“Figures.” He chuckles low, and you feel it rumbling in his chest. Then, with a swift movement, he turns you, bends his knees, and hoists you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Wha–”

“Let's go.” Your flush deepens as you feel his strong hand against the back of your thighs, holding you in place. “The humiliation will teach you not to call me Mosshead.”

“Come on, Zo, I said I was sorry!” You whine, and he stiffens, his pace slowing for a beat, and you feel his shoulders shake slightly. Then he resumes his pace.

“I like that.”

You stop pounding your fists against his back and raise your brow. “What? Me apologizing?”

He grunts and keeps walking, the blanket and your laughing friends nearly in sight. “That nickname. Way better than Mosshead.”

Oh! Zo! Another small blush creeps into your cheeks, but before you can reply, Nami whistles. “What you got there, Zoro?”

You hear your friends laughing and bury your face in your hands, feeling mortified. “Someone’s been naughty.” Zoro replies with a smirk and an edge of amusement in his tone.

“Seriously?” You grumble, pushing against his back to try and wiggle out of his embrace, though it’s all for naught because he has an iron grip on your legs.

“Well, either set her down so we can all eat or take her to naughty jail and punish her. Away from our sight, please.”

“Nami!” You yell, exasperated, but Zoro merely chuckles, swerving right as if changing directions.

“Naughty jail it is, then.”

“No, no!” You whimper. “I’m sorry!” Chopper stares at both of you, not sure if you’re being serious, so you try to take advantage of him and stretch your hand. “Help me, Chopper!”

He reaches his hand out before Nami swats it away. “Let them be, Chopper. They need some alone time.”

You seethe at Nami, a pout on your lips. “Traitor.”

Zoro lets out a low chuckle before settling you down at the edge of the blanket. “Learned your lesson, Troublemaker?”

You steady yourself, hands against his chest, and a permanent blush tattooed on your cheeks. “Damn you. I’m never calling you Mosshead again. You won.”

“I see you’re a fast learner.” His smirk is impossibly smug. “Zo’s fine, though.” Then he turns his back on you, opens the small cooler, and takes out a beer, cracking it open with one hand and chugging at it without another look back at you.

And, damn it, if that doesn’t mess with your heart.

-*-

“Who wants another drink?” You ask and count the raised hands before getting up, heading towards the cooler to satiate your friends’ thirst. Zoro moves his hand before you reach it, and smooths the blanket before you can trip on its raised edge.

You smile at him, but he’s not even looking at you. His eye is shut, one arm behind his neck as he leans against the tree, though you know very well he’s attentive to everything. You pass the drinks around, then return to get your own.

“Watch your head.” Zoro mumbles, and you raise your brow but don’t heed his advice and, therefore, hit a low branch of the tree, releasing a string of curses while rubbing your forehead. “When are you going to start listening to me, Trouble?”

“When you stop sounding like a smug jerk.” You mouth, annoyed at his attentiveness and at how he seems to perceive danger before you even realise it’s there. He chuckles and you retrieve your drink, returning to your seat.

After a while of relaxing in the shade, Luffy drags everyone to a frisbee game. The boys are all down to play, but the girls just sit by a bench near the open space the boys chose to throw the frisbee and tackle each other.

You sit on the back of the bench, a case of water bottles by your feet because you know the boys will be thirsty soon. Vivi sits on the grass in front of Nami’s legs, and Robin and Kaya are on the bench.

After a small chit-chat about meaningless stuff, you decide to bring up something that’s been bothering you. “So I’ve been getting a lot of gifts lately…”

Four heads whip your way, and you sigh, already expecting that reaction and the bombardment of questions that follow. So you raise your hands, and they stop to let you continue. Though you decide to focus on the game in front of you instead of the way they’re all staring at you.

You especially focus on a very athletic green-haired man who constantly gazes up to where you are before focusing back on the game.

“It’s flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… It started last weekend, after the party at Luffy’s. They have notes, but nothing personal. No name, no nothing… I don’t know who they’re from, and I don’t even know if I should be flattered or freaked out by them.”

“How do they make you feel?” Robin asks, and you shrug, not quite knowing how to answer that question.

“The first ones made me feel good. I thought they were from– I thought I might know who they were from. But since he didn’t say anything about it, I doubt they're from him. So now they just feel weird…”

“Honey, we all know you’re talking about Zoro.” Nami says in a very condescending manner, and all the girls agree.

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. You’re so obvious it hurts.

“Fine, yes. I thought they might’ve come from him, at first. But he’s not one for romantic gestures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Nami quipped back, a smirk tugging her lips as her eyes fell back on the game. Sure enough, Zoro’s eyes are back on the bench - on you, to be more specific. “I think it’s quite romantic the way he’s always checking to see if you’re safe. Keeping you away from trouble and making sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

A small blush creeps its way into your cheeks. It is quite romantic. “That’s just Zoro being Zoro. He’s a cop. He protects and serves.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure he would like to serve you.” Nami giggles and all the girls try to stifle their own laughs. “But you’re wrong about that. Sure, he’s always attentive to any kind of threats, but it’s different with you.”

“What do you mean?” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds maddeningly against your sternum.

“She means that Zoro doesn’t usually go out of his way to keep people from tripping on stuff or from bumping their head. And with you, he’s always extra careful.” Robin finishes with a small smile.

“Like the way he’s playing now, but keeps looking at you to see if you’re still in one piece. It’s like he’s expecting you to spontaneously combust or something.” Kaya adds with a giggle.

“It’s very endearing.” Vivi finishes, and your blush deepens, so you bury your head back into your hands, stifling a loud groan.

“But you’re still right.” Nami continues as if you’re not breaking down in front of them. “I don’t think he’s the one leaving the gifts…” She laughs suddenly. “But there’s one way to tell for sure.”

You raise your head from your hand cocoon to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Zoro is already halfway to the bench and you squeak. “Nami…”

“Hey, Zoro!” She starts with a wave of her hand. You see Zoro raise his eyebrow at her, his long strides bringing him closer to the bench.

Shit.

He’s sweaty all over. Fat droplets of perspiration drop from his temples to his perfect jawline and neck, and you gulp, feeling hot and bothered. So, it comes as no surprise that when he reaches his hand to grab a bottle between your legs, you lose your balance and fall back on the bench.

Yelping, you expect to hit the floor with a dry thud, air escaping your lungs and sharp pain blinding you. Instead, you feel a strong hand wrap around your forearm and tug hard, then your face being squished against a muscular, sweaty chest.

Zoro saved you from an ugly fall. Again.

“Seriously, Trouble? Why?” His voice is gravelly and rough, but with an edge of exasperation lacing it. “I’m starting to feel like I have to be with you 24/7 or you’re going to end up in the hospital.”

Your breath is still leaving your lips in ragged gasps because of the slight scare of facing an inevitable fall, and your face is still pressed against Zoro’s chest. You feel the girls’ gaze on both of you and Zoro seems completely unfazed by it, while saying you’re embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.

So you disentangle yourself from the predicament that is Zoro’s muscles and laugh it off, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “Ah, thank you. I got… distracted.”

“By what?” He asks while taking a sip of water.

“Well, Zoro,” Nami begins, and he shifts his focus to her, “we were discussing who could be her secret admirer, and then you showed up. Curious.”

“Secret admirer?” Zoro’s gaze falls back on you, his brow scrunched.

“Ah, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just–”

“She’s been getting gifts. Flowers, chocolates, love declarations…” Why is Nami exaggerating? Is she trying to fish for information or make Zoro jealous? “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with it, would you?”

He drinks the water in three long gulps before answering, his scowl now permanently etched on his lips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”

You look down and bite your lower lip. You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe, secretly, there was still a little part of you that hoped he could be showering you with that kind of attention.

“Well, I just thought–” Nami begins, but she’s swiftly interrupted by Zoro, whose eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.

“When I want someone, I make it clear I’m interested. You’ll know.” He finishes drinking the water just as your eyes meet his, and the fire burning there scalds and melts. Was he telling you he’s interested? Was he saying he’s about to make a move?

With a smirk, he turns his back, grunts a gruff ‘try not to fall again, Trouble’, and gets back to the game, leaving you more confused than ever.

“Did he–” Nami starts.

“Nobody says anything. We’re going to act like nothing happened.” You mumble before getting up and chugging down an entire bottle of water yourself to try and calm your nerves.

It doesn’t work.

-*-

The frisbee game makes everyone tired - and hungry - so, after all the bellies are filled again, the crew is relaxing in the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon and the lulling sounds of the park.

Chopper, Usopp, Luffy, and Barto are enjoying a card game. Franky seems interested, but he’s only overseeing and throwing advice that only seems to make Usopp lose the game. Robin has a book in her hands and Sabo’s head on her lap, his eyes closed with a blissful smile on his lips.

You have serious doubts that she's paying attention to the book, especially since she seems to be stuck on the same page for over ten minutes, but you don’t say anything. Kaya is braiding Vivi’s hair and Nami is snapping photos of the crew, taking little candid shots with her cellphone. Brook is gracing everyone with a nice, mellow song on his violin - he's a wonderful musician - and Zoro seems to be sleeping peacefully, leaning against the tree.

Everything seems peaceful, quiet, and idyllic.

But you can’t seem to shake the feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. It’s like someone is watching you, but you can’t quite pinpoint who or where. It’s a prickling on your neck, something you’re already growing so used to that you start to think you should have this checked out by a doctor.

With a heavy sigh, you stand up, stretching your arms to justify that action. “I’ll be back soon.” You say softly to Nami, who’s closer to you and she nods. Then, you look around before taking a step. The park is one big open space - with the exception of some trees here and there - except for the dense treeline behind you.

So that’s where you’re headed.

-*-

Zoro senses you getting up and opens his eye slowly, following you with his gaze and scowling when you don’t see the tree root sticking out and stumble a little before steadying your pace.

You’re such a damn klutz.

And damn it, if he doesn’t want to be there to catch you and protect you from everything.

His heart constricts slightly at the thought, and he sighs softly. He thought absence had made him forget how he felt about you. He even had some ‘relationships’ while you were away. Wait… can he really call something that never went past three months a real relationship? He never truly bonded with those women. Never truly cared.

No one ever made him feel the way you did.

The way you do.

But time and distance did nothing but make him pine harder for you. When Nami told him casually that you were returning, he almost didn’t believe her. You didn’t even come back for any of the holidays or to say ‘hi’, let alone come back for good after experiencing life in the big city.

But you returned.

And then he thought he wouldn’t quite forgive you for having literally abandoned them. No text, no email, no letter, nothing. He would be salty, at least. Grumpy and upset, at most.

But he forgave you instantly.

One look at your dishevelled form, chasing a goddamned tire with dirt all over your clothes and face, and he was a lovestruck teenager again.

Fucking heart, what a useless organ.

All those thoughts forgotten, he simply reached out. And you reached back, almost like no time had passed between you, and you could basically continue your story where you left off.

And he was willing to try.

Though he didn’t want to rush too fast - damn Nami should just stop intruding and let you two figure things out yourselves. He’d get there. He almost kissed you already, so the feeling is mutual.

He’s got time.

Sitting up, he watches as you peek behind trees, a cautious demeanour to your posture making him raise his brow. What the hell are you doing?

“Just go to her, dumbass.”

“Shut up, Witch. Mind your own business.”

Nami sticks her tongue out at him and snaps a picture of his grouchy face before turning her phone towards you and snapping another candid shot.

“You look like a lost puppy in love. It’s cute, you know? The way you keep looking out for her.” Zoro feels his ears heat up and leans back again, trying to close his eye and return to a state of relaxation, but he can’t very well do that when you’re doing God-knows-what near the trees, looking creepily at everywhere and everything. “Just make sure you make your move soon… or maybe that secret admirer will one-up you and poof!” She makes an exploding gesture with her hand, and Zoro scowls at her.

“You’re insufferable.” He quips before getting up and dusting his jeans.

“Word of the day? How smart of you, Zoro.” She giggles when Zoro passes by her and messes up her hair with his hand, earning an indignant gasp from the orange-haired girl. “I just went to the salon, you brute!”

Zoro smirks at her reaction and starts pacing towards you, Nami’s antics behind him. Well… all except one…

‘Make sure you make your move soon…’

Perhaps he should. He doesn’t want to lose you before even having the chance to have you.

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