#but also one piece because ace didn’t deserve that??

[dio-doflamingo]

When you’re delusional, every character is still alive n thriving and it’s canon because you said so 🤭👍🏾

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers ( 2 )

synopsis: putting an end to everything, drea thinks she’s totally and completely done with paige bueckers. that is until the blonde is finally honest with her.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: angst and smut. they’re so toxic but also like made for each other.. alcohol use, scissoring, fingering, lots of paige’s hands.

notes: another long one so there wasn’t any major cliffhangers, hopefully this makes up for the wait.. :) also a paige & flau’jae feature because i love them sm.

The morning sunlight filters through the hotel curtains, and she’s sitting at the edge of the bed. I can feel the space next to me where she was lying, still warm but empty now. She’s moving around, getting dressed, and I’m fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into bed. But I know I shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to go yet,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s more of a plea than an offer, and I hate how desperate I sound. I can see her hesitate, her back to me as she fiddles with her shirt. For a second, I think she might stay, but then she turns to face me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Why was it so difficult for me to just say it?

“Except I do. We never actually talked… if you missed that part,” she says, and I try to ignore the slight raise in her voice.

In attempt to busy myself, I grab my shirt from off the ground and pull it over my head. “The whole point of last night was to avoid that, Drea. We ain’ gotta talk about it.” I respond, and I’m only half joking, but I still wince at how much of a dick I sound.

She’s serious, and instead of agreeing or starting an argument, she ignores it. “Look,” she starts, and I can see her struggling to find the right words, her eyes glued to the bedsheets. Not me. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say anything, that I get it, she deserved an explanation. But I don’t want to make it easy for her. Not when I know this is probably the last time we’re going to be like this.

“Last night.. it shouldn’t have happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows. "You don’t gotta say that. It’s not like we didn’t both want it,” I huff out.

She looks at me a certain way, and I can tell she hasn’t put much thought into what she’s saying. But she’s saying it anyway. "That’s not what I mean," she says quickly, like she’s trying to fix it. "I’m not saying I didn’t want it. I just… I shouldn’t have let things get so deep between us. How things ended.. it’s my fault.”

Her fault? She shouldn’t have let things get so deep? Theres no way she means these things, right? She stands there, biting her lip, and I know she’s waiting for me to say something. My throat feels tight, and my mind is a mess. I’m caught between wanting to shout at her, to tell her how wrong she is, and just shutting down completely.

This is Drea. The one person who’s always known how to get under my skin, in ways both good and bad. And now, while she’s standing right in front of me, telling me she regrets how deep we got, that basically, she thinks I cut her off because she caught feelings, I can’t help but feel like a fool. I spent so much time convincing myself that she didn’t feel the way I did, that I’d imagined the whole thing. Now it turns out she was in it too. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I wanna tell her to stop, to not say anything more. But I can’t let myself be that vulnerable, not when I’ve spent so long trying to protect whatever pieces of myself I have left. This is, like, the biggest joke of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When I finally do speak, my voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost detached. “So, what now? We just pretend none of this ever mattered?”

Drea’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—regret, maybe, or doubt. It seems like this is the most straightforward conversation we’ve had about the way we actually feel, and everything’s coming to light and an end at the same time. Just as quickly, she pushes it away, her expression hardening, and it makes every dot in my mind connect. “I’m not saying it didn’t matter. It did. That’s why we need to stop.” She’s trying so hard to be the rational one, to be the one who ends this cleanly. But nothing about this is clean.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” God, I even sound bitter.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something—maybe a reason to stay, or maybe just confirmation that this is the right choice. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging with the weight of it all, and I know nothing, at least in this moment, would change her mind about me.

“Please take care of yourself.” She kept me grounded when I couldn’t find my footing, and those words just feel so cruel. It sounded like we’d never be speaking again, and I hated that thought.

I nod, unable to trust my voice, and then she’s gone. And just like that, it’s over. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

A few days pass in a blur, and my time in Phoenix is slowly coming to an end. It’s safe to say the events of the city had only temporarily kept my mind off of everything, and now I’m sitting in a bar with Flau’jae, trying my best not to let the rain cloud over my head poke out. She’s talking, animated as ever, but I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting back to Drea more often than I’d like to admit.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blink, forcing out a smile. “Sorry,” I apologize, stretching my arms out in a way to reset. “I’m listening now. Promise.”

Flau’jae narrows her eyes at me, clearly not buying it. “Nah, you’re not,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “What’s got you so deep in thought? You’ve been acting like you’re here, but not really here, y’know?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess. Been a long week.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. And this long week wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?”

I bite my lip, trying to stay cool. Flau’jae doesn’t know about Drea and me—no one does, really. We made sure of that. But if anyone’s gonna pick up on something, it’s her. I should’ve known better than to think I could just sit here and pretend everything’s fine.

“Maybe,” I say vaguely, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her curiosity. “I just got a lot on my mind, I’m fine,” I reassure, furrowing my eyebrows as if it was nothing to worry about.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning in like she’s about to uncover some big secret. “Stuff, huh? Girl stuff?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “You’re too nosy for your own good, you know that?”

She grins, laughing a little. “Paige! Come on, spill. Who is she?”

I hesitate, and for a second, I consider telling her everything. But that’s a slippery slope, and I’m not ready to go there. So instead, I won’t reveal too much. “It’s complicated,” I sigh.

Flau’jae crosses her arms, fully intrigued. “Complicated how?” She could be a detective.

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Just... complicated. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next.”

She nods slowly, taking that in. “So, you and this girl… y’all were close?”

“Yeah,” I huff out, nodding as I press my lips together. “Real close.”

Flau’jae gives me a knowing look. “Thats who you was texting last night at the game?”

“Maybe,” I drag out, a shit-eating grin gracing my face. Then I slip up. “I was jus’ too scared to say anything to her face.”

Her eyes widen, and she brings a hand up to cusp her lips. It takes me a bit to realize, and as soon as I do, she cuts me off. Damn it. “Thats why you was hugging her a little too long after the final buzzer.”

“Hey! I ain’ even say a name,” I say quickly and louder than intended, trying to backtrack.

She leans forward, eyes wide with amusement. “You didn’t have to! You gave me everything I needed to know. Paige, what the hell? You and Drea, for real? I didn’t know you had game like that.”

I jerk my head back, scrunching my face up at her. There was no doubt that Drea was one of the prettiest faces in the game, and the fact that she can ball too just really adds to it. “I can show you what these rizz hands can do,” I joked momentarily. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing, though. We kept it on the low for a reason.”

Flau’jae shakes her head, holding her lips a little tighter now. “You know what Twitter would do with this? You been out here sneaky-linking and didn’t even give me a heads-up?”

Sneaky-linking? Was that really what it was? “Can we stop talking about this?” I say, half-laughing despite myself.

“And y’all met in high school, too. That’s some next-level soulmatism or something.”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I lift up my drink. The clinking of the ice fills the silence, and I’m able to put a close to the conversation. “It’s over now, anyway. Doesn’t matter.” It’s a lie. We’d clearly went over that it did matter.

Flau’jae studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she can see right through me. But then she lifts her hands up in surrender, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if it’s really over, how about you find someone tonight? You could use it if I’m being honest,” She retorts, referring to the mood I’ve been in the entire night because of my situation.

“Chill!” I laugh, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair myself. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugs, and I hesitate, taking a second to let my eyes wander around the bar. A couple of eyes meet mine, lingering longer than what’s considered normal. I’m not sure if they might know who I am, or just think I’m attractive. Or maybe both.

Flau’jae seems to notice too, shooting me a wild and bright smile. “See? you still got it. Just make a good choice.”

The car hums beneath me, the city lights flashing past as I sink into the leather of the backseat, my head leaning against the window. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, and my mind is replaying the past few hours like a hazy, disconnected reel. All I can think about is her.

You’d think after a night out I’d at least be able to get the mass of Drea off my mind, but I think it just made everything worse. No matter how hard I try to push her out, physically and emotionally, she’s always there, right on the edge of my thoughts.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over her contact. I know I shouldn’t text her. I know it’s a bad idea. But our last conversation on repeat and the emptiness from earlier are making my judgment untrustworthy, and before I can stop myself, I’m typing out a message.

Yo, you up?

I stare at the screen, the words staring back at me. It’s a weak attempt, but I’m past caring. A part of me almost hopes she won’t respond, that she’ll leave me to deal with the consequences of my choices alone. But then I add another text, like I can’t help myself.

Idc if you’re not

It feels like a challenge. Like I’m daring her to ignore me, to stay out of it. But I know that’s not what I want.

I swallow hard and send one last message, my fingers trembling slightly as I type.

You still in Phoenix, right?

The words hang there, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s from the countless amounts of dirty shirley’s or the anticipation of hearing from her. Or both. I really hope I don’t throw up in this car.

I lean back in the seat in attempt to relax, but I can literally hear my heart beating. I wonder if the driver can, really. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I know that if she’s still here, if she answers… I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist whatever comes next.

The minutes stretch out in silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the car’s tires hitting a pothole. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, watching the three little dots appear and disappear. I should put my phone away, maybe even go back to the hotel and sleep this off, but I can’t. I’m too far gone for that.

The Uber turns down another quiet street, and I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. It’s not just about tonight. It’s about all the nights that led up to this, every bad choice that brought me to this moment. The thought of facing it alone is unbearable, and I realize that’s why I texted her. Not because I want her to come over, but because I don’t want to be alone. Or that I do, just with her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop it in my rush to check the screen.

Why?

A single word, blunt and to the point. She’s guarded, as usual. But the fact that she responded at all makes me happy enough.

I just… I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, but I settle on honesty.

Just wanna see you. Is that so bad?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My fingers hover over the screen again, and then I add another message.

I don’t wanna stop seeing you fr

It’s more than I planned to say, more vulnerable than I planned to be, but it’s the truth. And I’m too tired of pretending otherwise.

The reply comes quickly this time, and I can almost hear her voice in the words.

Are you drunk texting me right now?

And no, you mean you don’t wanna stop fucking me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I just stare at the screen, the bright light from my phone casting harsh shadows in the dark car. I can feel the truth in what she’s saying, but it’s only part of it. Yeah, we’ve been physical, and I’m not denying that’s been a big part of this whole thing, but it’s not just that.

No, Drea. It’s more than that. We both know it always was.

You said it three days ago.

I hesitate before hitting send, but I know I have to. I can’t keep hiding behind the bullshit. She deserves better than that even if she won’t appreciate it.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing in on me from all sides. I shift in my seat. This whole thing—this whole night—feels like I’m balancing on a razor’s edge, and I’m terrified of falling off.

When her response finally comes, it’s short.

It’s 2am.

Ok, it’s not ideal. but I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.

And everything I didn’t say.

There’s another long pause, and I can almost picture her on the other end, trying to figure out what to say. We’ve been dancing around each other for so long, caught up in this push and pull, and now it feels like we’re on the verge of something, but neither of us knows how to take the next step.

Then, her next message comes through, and it’s enough to make my chest tighten. It’s hesitant but willing.

Where are you?

Outside your hotel.

Her reply is instant this time.

Come up.

I shove my phone into my pocket and step out of the Uber, my mind on a million as I make my way to her room. Every step feels heavy as if I’m walking through mud, but there’s a part of me that knows this is where I need to be—where I’ve always needed to be.

When I reach her door, it swings open almost as soon as I knock, and there she is, standing in front of me. Her eyes are guarded, just like her text messages, but I can see something softer underneath. Something that tells me she’s just as scared of this as I am.

“Paige,” she says, her voice a little wistful as she fiddles with the door knob. She looks me up and down, almost as if I’m being examined before I’m allowed in.

I don’t know what to say, so I just step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m not drunk,” I state, shooting down her concerns from a few moments ago. She wouldn’t proceed if there was a chance I wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

She looks at me for another long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then, with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me in. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it. Suddenly we’re alone in her room, the reality of the situation settling around us.

“I know I shouldn’t have texted. But I did, and I’m glad I’m here.” I ramble, although still stern.

She sighs, and the curls that fall perfectly over her shoulders bounce a bit. Shes in a pair of short pajama shorts and a long, grey Nike tee-shirt that could’ve been mine. Correction, it definitely is mine. “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. We can make it less complicated.” I try to reason.

She stiffens, her breath catching as she looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—“

“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my voice low as I step closer to her. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking. “I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again. And I can’t… I can’t leave tomorrow without letting you know how much I care.”

I don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, hanging in the air between us. I love you. And I’m sorry. But I can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why. Instead, I just hope she can feel it, hoping she knows without me having to spell it out.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she says quietly, her back turned to me as she walks further into the room. “Running to me when you’re feeling lost. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But I’ont know how to stop. I’ve tried, but… since you’ve been apart of my life it’s been hard to let you go. I don’t wanna lose you—“

“You already did,” she cuts me off, turning to face me, and it scares me how serious she sounds. There’s pain in her eyes, but there’s also something else—something that makes me hope, even if just for a second. “We both did.”

I close the gap between us, and I can tell it catches her by surprise because of the look she gives me. My hands gently cup her face. “Then why am I here? Why did you let me in again?”

She glances down at my lips, and despite being angry, she doesn’t respond with words. Physicality has always been our response for everything involving each other. It’s all we know. She leans into my touch, and it feels like a birthday gift. Her eyes flutter shut before she opens them again, and it’s enough to make me lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else.

She kisses me back, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she pulls me closer, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just us, tangled up in each other, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

But then she pulls back, breathless, her hands still resting on my shoulders. She’s looking down, like she’s fighting some internal battle. “Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You are drunk.”

“I told you I’m not,” I murmur, trying to find her eyes and pull her back to me by the waist, but she resists, her fingers gripping my shoulders tighter. Her resistance is strong, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s trying to push away the intensity of the moment. “Please, Drea.”

She shakes her head, eyes still averted. “I can taste the alcohol!” She brings her thumb up to brush over my lips. “I knew it, why the fuck would you lie?” She’s trying to walk away at this point, but my grip is too tough. I won’t let her go.

“No, listen,” I say, more eager and clear. “What I said, what I meant—none of that has to do with being drunk. I’m here because I need you. Because I want you. This isn’t just about tonight.”

Drea’s resolve falters, her eyes flickering back to mine with her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkling up just a bit. “You’re saying all the right things, but I can’t just ignore—”

I cut her off by pulling her closer, my grip firm but gentle on her hips. My thumbs move beneath her shirt, stroking her skin and feeling the muscle. “I know.” My lips are ghosting over her ear. “But please, just for tonight, let’s not think about it.” I press a kiss right below it. “Just be with me. Let’s just be here.”

“Paige..” she starts again, her voice softer this time, and I love it when she says my name. I lean in, silencing her with a kiss that’s both insistent and tender. She melts into it, her resistance breaking as she wraps her arms around my neck. Shes quick to sneak her tongue in, the movement making me wince, furrowing my brows at how good she tastes.

I guide her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she falls onto it with a soft thud. I follow her down, my body pressing against hers as our kiss grows more fervent. My hands explore her curves, skimming over the fabric of her shirt as it rides up, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

“Is this mine?” I breathe against her lips, the warmth of her hands on my cheeks making my face flush a vibrant red. Drea nods, her breath hitching as she catches the look in my eyes. Without another word, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up over her head, tossing it aside. The shirt hits the floor, and she starts giggling like a school girl, her chest now fully exposed and daunting.

The sound of her laughter makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help but grin, leaning down to capture her mouth in another kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. Our bodies press together, her skin warm and soft against mine, like it was made for me.

My hands begin to wander a bit too much, all the way down to her shorts. Slipping my hand in, I can already feel how wet she is. She lets out a soft gasp as I trace slow, deliberate circles against her clit firmly. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper, my breath fanning over her neck.

Her body has always reacted to every touch, every word. She’s trying to stay composed, but I can tell she’s barely holding on. Her hips instinctively push against my hand, silently begging for more, but I keep my movements steady, torturously slow and sloppy. I want to hear her say it.

“You,” she breathes out, her voice wavering. She’s antsy, I can feel it—the way her muscles tense, the way her breath comes in shallow pants.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. “You can do better than that.”

She whimpers, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to find the words. “Please… I need—” She breaks off, a soft moan escaping her lips when I press harder, right where she needs it most.

But then she grabs my wrist, stopping me just before she can fall over the edge. Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re low, dark, and daring. Three words that are very Drea. “Stop,” she says, her voice firmer now, even though I can tell it’s taking all her willpower. “I wanna feel you.”

The way she says it—so raw, so desperate—it’s enough to make me slip into a trance. I pull back, my gaze lingering on her as I strip off the rest of my clothes, watching as she does the same. Every inch of her is so perfect to the point where it should be a crime, and I want to touch every part.

I lay back on the bed, and she climbs on top of me, her movements deliberate and careful as she positions herself right over the bottom half of my body. I let my hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before coming to rest on her ass. I tilt my head slightly against the pillows, mouth slightly agape. I can’t resist giving her a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft noise from her. I smile, and my hands linger there, holding her close as she settles into place. We’ve done this countless amounts of times, and every single time it feels different. Better.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” I pull her hips down, aligning our bodies perfectly, and the feeling of her heat against mine makes my breath catch, but I’m still focused. “Could stay like this all night.”

Drea licks her lips, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she adjusts herself, the friction and jolting of our bodies a whole whirlpool of pleasure. “You better,” she whispers back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as her hands grip my legs so she can find herself.

Slowly, she starts to move, her hips grinding down against mine in a smooth rhythm. Every slide of her body against me is agonizingly perfect, and I can’t help the groan that escapes as she finds a pace that makes my whole body push up against her.

My eyebrows furrow as I take sight of where we meet, her pussy flat against mine. The squelching of our juices together fills the room, and I lose it. Maybe the alcohol is accentuating the feeling for me, or she’s just this good. “Fuck…” I breathe out, my hands roaming up her back, feeling the muscles flex and move beneath her skin. “You feel so good. Always so good.”

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling forward slightly as she loses herself. I let my hands slide back down to her ass, guiding her movements, making sure every grind, every brush of our bodies, hits just right. I can feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she picks up the pace, chasing that high.

I can’t resist teasing her a little, my hands kneading her ass as she rides me, my fingers brushing just along the edge of her entrance, close enough to make her squirm but not enough to give her what she really wants. She lets out a frustrated moan, hips moving harder, trying to get more.

“Paige!” she groans, voice full of need and just the right amount of anger, her breath coming out in ragged pants. “Stop playing with me. I can’t take it.”

My grip tightens, and I keep her exactly where I want her, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, my fingers lingering as I brush my thumb gently along her cheek. “You can take it, baby,” I whisper. “I know you can.”

She looks at me with those pleading eyes, her breath hitching as she adjusts herself, arching her back more. The movement pushes her even closer to me, our bodies pressing together, and the feeling almost sends me over the edge.

Without warning, I dip two fingers into her entrance, the sight too pretty to resist. It makes her gasp, her body collapsing forward against me. Our skin sticks together, warm too from the sweat, and her chest is pressing against mine as she struggles to catch her breath.

Before she can lose herself entirely, I slide my hand to her lower stomach, pushing her back up, guiding her into place. “Nah, stay up w’me, ma.” My voice is shaky with the effort of holding it together. Out of breath, mouth wide open. “Hold that shit.”

She whines out, her voice high and so pornographic. “Mm—oh, I can’t…” Her words trail off into a desperate moan, her body shuddering as my fingers move in that come-hither motion, curling inside her just right. The feeling of her slick is almost too much to bear, making my head spin.

I push through, keeping her steady even as I feel myself starting to lose control. “You can,” I pant, my breath coming out in ragged bursts. “So close, I know you can do it.”

She’s trembling, her thighs shaking as she tries to follow my command, but I can see the strain on her face, her dilated pupils, the way she’s fighting to keep herself together. My fingers work faster, deeper, and she bites down so hard on her lip I swear it might bleed.

Finally, when I feel her body tighten around me, right on the edge of breaking, I tap her ass lightly with my palm and pull my fingers out just enough to catch everything. “Now, baby. Come for me.”

The moment I say it, she lets go, and we come together, our bodies moving in sync, the room filled with strangled noises. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and I cling to her as we ride it out. She’s finally able to fall on top of me comfortably, hand resting on my chest.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, both of us shaking with the aftershocks, until we finally start to come down. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my heart still racing (for more than one reason I’ll admit) as I hold her close.

I can feel her hesitance, scared to move or say anything. But I can also feel her tiredness, the way her body sags against mine like she’s too worn out to keep up any walls.

Gently, I shift, moving my body so I’m laid up next to her, our limbs tangling together naturally. My arm stays draped around her, holding her close as she nestles her head into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin. It feels good—too good—like maybe we could stay like this forever if we didn’t know better.

“I want you to mean what you said. All of it.” 

Her words hang, and I can feel her hesitation, the fear that I’m just saying things because it’s easier than dropping the bomb or just straight losing her. I swallow, pulling her closer.

“You’ont think I did?”

“Paige.”

“Drea, I do.”

She doesn’t respond right away, just presses herself deeper into me, like she’s trying to believe it, trying to let herself see us being more than what we are right now without it turning into shit. I know how hard that is, how many times we’ve proven we aren’t made for each other.

“Then prove it,” she finally murmurs, her voice a little stronger now, like she’s challenging me, daring me to back it up.

I nod against her, not sure if she can even feel it, but I know what she means. It’s not about words anymore—it’s about what comes next, and whether we can make it work. “I will,” I promise, and for once, I really believe it.

[slut4thebroken]

Teacher’s Pet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.

Words | 6.2 k

Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3

Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most. 

You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay. 

Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…

“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk. 

“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work. 

“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively. 

“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense. 

“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh. 

“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”

“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink. 

“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.

“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned. 

“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.” 

“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.” 

“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.” 

“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?” 

“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.” 

“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.” 

“You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly. 

“No, but,” 

“Then I think we’re done here.” 

The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now. 

“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.  

“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze. 

“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little. 

“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.

Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments. 

You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit. 

When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk. 

“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained. 

“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile. 

“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused. 

“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter. 

“I- I was,”

“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly. 

“See them?” 

“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone. 

“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.” 

“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.  

“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back. 

“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.” 

“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down. 

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again. 

This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention. 

“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?” 

“Anything else?” 

“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again. 

“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said. 

“Um, I- I’m not sure…” 

“Feel free to use your notes.” 

Fuck. 

When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly. 

“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself. 

“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back. 

“I’ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings. 

“But,” 

“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave. 

At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on. 

“Professor?” You finally asked. 

“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier. 

Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk. 

You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”

“Professor,” 

“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again. 

“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now. 

He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you. 

“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.” 

“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.

“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.  

“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.  

“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”

“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not. 

“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.” 

“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.” 

“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush. 

“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly. 

“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly. 

Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours. 

It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk. 

“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.

“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?

“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you. 

“…Why?”

“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in. 

There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around. 

“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you. 

“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair. 

Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.” 

“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy. 

“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far. 

“Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy. 

“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter. 

“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” 

He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh. 

“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.” 

“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor. 

“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg. 

You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other. 

“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months. 

His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.  

“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly. 

You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened. 

“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.” 

“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago. 

“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.” 

“That’s good… Anything else?” 

“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.” 

“No visual or auditory hallucinations?” 

“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”

“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.” 

“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you. 

“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone. 

“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.  

“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words. 

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical. 

In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely. 

“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?” 

You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss. 

“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. 

“Yes.” You whispered shakily. 

“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

“I- I’ve never..”

“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.” 

“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock. 

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.” 

Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh. 

“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”

“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.

“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty. 

“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet. 

“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.

When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch. 

“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you. 

“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you. 

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?” 

You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced. 

When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes. 

“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.” 

You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…

“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you. 

He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face. 

“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock. 

“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach. 

“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness. 

“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”

You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.” 

“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”

“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..” 

“Should I choose for you?” 

“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm. 

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure. 

His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations. 

When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.  

Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity. 

“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need. 

“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing. 

“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal. 

“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again. 

“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances. 

“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.” 

“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead. 

“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste. 

“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.” 

[innerfare]

Ace Relationship Headcanons - Part 1

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Fire Fist Ace

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

A little scenario to start us off: you're Akainu's daughter- meek and mild at the start, with a burn scar or two (and a lot of trauma) from your temperamental father. You have an arranged marriage with a young marine officer, not a bad man but not necessarily a good one, either. And then there's Ace, the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, one of the most notorious criminals in the world. It's quite the scandal when the two of you run away together. Of course, you don’t run away because you’re star-crossed lovers. You run away because Ace finally sets you free. 

You fall first, drawn to him like he’s the sun and you just have to hold him in your hands, even if you’ll get burned. His easy way with people, his boyish laugh, the freckles on his cheeks, his muscular figure. 

Ace notices you’re attractive, sure, and sweet, but he puts you in the same box as everyone else, initially, trying to keep you at arm’s length. This only changes when you reach out to him and forge an emotional connection, approaching him when he’s down, offering him a piece of candy, and saying something along the lines of, “I'm happy you're alive,” or, “I think the world is a better place with you in it,” without even realizing the depths of Ace's low self esteem. 

From that point forward, he loses his voice when you're around because he's never felt such an intense need to wrap someone in his big arms and squeeze, to bury his face in someone’s hair, to inhale someone’s scent. You fell first, but he fell harder. 

His feelings slammed into him like a train and he wouldn’t have been able to peel himself off the tracks if not for Marco’s help (the older man didn’t do much, just told him to stop being so pathetic and shoot his shot). 

Marco intended for him to talk it out with you, but Ace is a man of action, not a man of words. It takes him a bit to gather the courage because he genuinely doesn’t think he deserves to have you, but eventually, the feelings become too intense. Once he decides he’s going to confess, he doesn’t confess so much as he gets you alone and places a heavy kiss on your lips. When you kiss him back, in his mind, the two of you are basically married. 

He works really hard not to be overprotective of you, but he watches you like a hawk. He has such intense anxiety about something horrible happening to you. He even has nightmares of him losing control and hurting you because he’s such a monster, or else of you finally realizing that he’s no good and leaving him. But when he wakes up, you’re always there, and he wraps you in his arms and pulls you into his side. 

Is very insecure about your relationship and has a deep-rooted fear that you will leave him if he isn’t actively doing things for you. Also has an insecurity about being ‘masculine’ enough for you and works really hard not to cry around you. It takes you a really long time to make him feel comfortable enough to open up. 

Isn’t really sure what to do in a relationship because he’s never had one and didn’t exactly have any to observe growing up, so he mostly mimics you. You sat beside him one night on the deck of the Moby Dick and offered him half of the candy you opened up? He starts buying candy to share with you. You offered him your scarf while on a winter island even though he didn’t need it? He always keeps an extra scarf in his bag lest you forget yours and need one. You tell him you love him? He hurries to say it back, not having realized that was something people could say out loud whenever they felt it. 

When Thatch tells him flowers are always a solid bet for wooing a woman, he takes it to heart. He gets so into it, always seeking out flower shops on the islands the two of you visit and asking the people who work there to make custom bouquets with a variety of flowers, though he leans toward sunflowers and orange lilies. If he encounters sunflowers in the wild, he'll most certainly pick some for you. 

He puts so much care into your relationship the guys tease him he’s not much of a pirate, but he doesn’t care. He wouldn’t give up on his dreams for anything, and yet, there’s a small part of him that thinks he would do the white picket thing if you wanted. He wants what you want, and the fact that you want nothing more than for him to achieve his dreams makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. The older guys, the ones who have been on the crew long enough to recall Pops in his prime, also tease him that he really is Whitebeard’s son because the Emperor also had a soft spot for a certain lady and was never very good at hiding it (Roger was the same way but don’t tell Ace that, eek).  

Goes a little crazy for words of affirmation. He has a pretty face? He has a nice laugh? He’s a kind person with a good soul? You’re lucky to have ever met him? You love him for who he is as a person and not the things he can do for you, not the flashy ways he can fight and fearsome reputation he’s made for himself? You’d better be prepared to have his children. He’s super awkward about receiving compliments, though, and often has no idea how to respond. “Erm, thanks, I guess.” Can’t bring himself to admit that your words make him feel like he’s drowning in his love for you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[icallhimjoey]

hi hello yes

sorry, SORRY, sorry! this took a second longer than originally anticipated, but, here it is, live from italy! enjoy! (tw: we get spicy, and we also cut our finger on a kitchen knife, but it's only minor, and it ultimately gets kissed better, so we're fine) Wordcount: 2.8K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You laid on your side, face pressed firmly into your pillow, and looked at Joe who was doing something on his phone. Answering someone who should’ve gotten a reply hours ago, most likely.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, sheets loosely covering him up to about his waist, and his hair looked insane.

It always did, after.

You loved it like that. Frizzy, wild, completly unruly, every piece curling a different way.

Gorgeous.

Little shit.

Joe must’ve felt how you were looking at him, because you caught him sneaking a little look from the corner of his eye before he pretended he didn’t just make direct eye-contact with you and shifted focus right back to the small screen in his hands.

“I know what you’re doing…”

You saw how a slow smile grew on his face. One that he immediately tried to hide, which was of no use.

“Yea?”

Joe couldn’t lose his grin if he wanted to. Giving you another glance made him lock his phone before putting it down on his beside table.

“Wow. Fourth time.” Joe commented, and he phrased it like he was impressed, but you knew it wasn’t with you.

Joe was impressed with himself.

“You’re sick, you know that? Like an actual sociopath.”

It felt a bit silly how you hadn’t fully realised what was going on until just now. After the fourth time it happened.

Four times.

Joe laughed as he got comfortable in bed, tucking himself in for the good night’s rest his smug little face suggested he thought he really deserved.

“I’m just following instructions.” Joe leant over a little and planted a chaste kiss to your forehead before he turned over. “Night night.”

And you know what… you kind of agreed.

You were sort of impressed with him too, but you would never tell him to his face. Obviously. Although, in a weird twist of the truth, it was actually proving yourself right more than Joe probably thought he was doing.

You’d not been fucking around when you said that sex wasn’t just about the orgasm. And the first time, with hindsight, you kind of couldn’t believe that you hadn’t immediately known.

It was a couple days after you’d had that whole discussion with Izzy present, and Joe had challengingly said he was going to prove you wrong. He’d not said a word about it since, and so you’d forgotten about it.

You’d been play bickering all day - mild bullying that touched lines, but skillfully never crossed them.

You’d caught Joe looking into a mirror for a while, and had just watched him for a little bit before you went, “Just admiring, are we?”

He’d nearly jumped out of his skin. Hadn’t seen you were there.

“You fucking...” Joe said through his teeth before loudly exhaling.

You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you as you said, “Sorry, sorry! I’m clearly interrupting something. I’ll give you and your reflection some privacy.”

“Come here!”

He’d taken three quick steps towards you, but you were faster and scurried away before his extended arms could grab you.

To retaliate, Joe had very innocently asked if you could go grab his charger from his bedroom whilst he was busy cooking dinner, not mentioning that he’d seen a fat spider near it just mere minutes ago.

And who were you to deny him a little help when he was literally making you soup from scratch?

The way you’d shrieked from across his flat had made him smile into a taste-testing spoonfull of cooked veg.

It had gone back and forth like that for a bit, sly comments and inside jokes thrown across the table, silly faces and swearwords that ultimately only fed the joy that sparked.

That was, until you were cleaning up after dinner, filling up and already overfilled dishwasher, when Joe decided it’d be hilarious to jumpscare you.

He snuck up, moved real slow, got real close, and then suddenly grabbed you at the waist whilst you were bent over and gave a loud, “BAH!”

The sound you made as you jumped was immediately followed by a loud wince.

“Oh no,” Joe’s vice grip around your waist lost strength immediately as you curled in on yourself, one hand clasping the other tightly. “Did you cut yourself?”

You kept quiet and focussed on the sharp pain that quickly dulled and replaced itself with a light sting.

You hadn’t cut yourself.

Joe had cut you.

Indirectly.

On his huge chef’s knife that you carefully wanted to give a good spot in between all the dirty pots and pans.

“Let me see. Did you cut yourself?” Joe turned you around by the shoulders, but you fought against it and turned to the sink instead.

Water went from slightly red to a little more orange until it ran clear - the cut was only little, but from the way you’d fallen silent, Joe struggled with immediate onset guilt whilst deeply wishing to keep the mood light and playful like it had been all day.

He wished you’d turn and call him a dickhead.

He wished you’d turn and punch him in the bicep.

“Is it bad? Come on, let me see.” Joe tried again, softer and sweeter now, trying to look over your shoulder.

You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you just stared at each other. Joe sort of awkward and entirely unsure of what to do. You sort of blankly, figuring out your next steps.

Which was, be careful what you wish for Joe, an unexpected punch to the bicep.

“What the fuck, Joe – did I cut myself?”

The happy relief Joe felt at your small smile underneath the scolding saved the moment.

“You did that! Did this! Look at it!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry! But, who the fuck holds a knife by the blade?”

“I was trying to make it fit in there!”

“And you had to hold it by the blade for that?” Joe’s smile grew, and you used your shoulder to shove him in response, eyes crinkling from your smile, but gaze back on your finger.

“Can you grab me the scissors?” you asked, reaching for a drawer filled with a lot of clutter, among which you knew there were some plasters.

“Yea, of course,” Joe got you his pair of kitchen scissors, but before handing them over, he forced eye-contact and turned serious for moment as he said, “That was my fault. Sorry. Does it hurt?”

And it only did a little.

You were fine.

Joe helped wrap your finger up with a plaster and the rest of your evening had passed fairly uneventful.

Joe’s little accident had ended the streak of teasing you had going, and instead, he’d turned a little soft. By ways of apologising, you were sure.

And then that mood carried over into his bed, where you sat on the edge of the foot of Joe’s bed after you got into your pyjamas, whilst Joe climbed into his side of the bed. You inspected the plaster around your finger, squeezed and pressed over the cut to feel the slight sting there still. Joe’s foot that nudged your bum interrupted you.

You looked over your shoulder and saw how Joe leant an elbow into your pillow, head leant back against the headboard with a slow smile and eyes that twinkled with just enough cheek to let you know he wasn’t all that tired yet.

“Stings.” You said as let yourself fall back just enough to get your legs up on the bed before crawling across.

“Maybe don’t touch it.” Joe said, using a hand to push down covers for you.

“Maybe don’t scare someone when they’re doing you a favour.”

You were about to get under the covers, but then, Joe changed his mind.

“Okay, fine. Come here.” Joe sat up more, spread his legs, and used both his hands to pull you into the spot in between.

“Careful! I am wounded!”

“Yea, yea, yea…” two strong hands started kneading your shoulders even before you’d fully settled with your back against his front. You immediately relaxed and let yourself sag into him, head bumping against his collarbone as you did.

“I did say I was sorry, didn’t I?” Joe said softly, close to your ear.

“Hmm.. if I say you did, will you keep going?”

Joe huffed a small laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder before whispering, “Sorry again.” into your skin.

And this was the type of shit that you lived for.

Tender touches that were just firm enough to make you feel something, alternated with feather light touches from finger tips that trailed down your arms slowly before they found their way back to your shoulders again.

Across your back.

To your neck.

Up into your hair, a little.

Gave you goosbumps.

Shivers.

Joe’s fingertips dug into flesh, and his mouth would leave gentle kisses right in the spot where your shoulder met the side of your neck.

If there was any stress secretly housing somewhere in your body that you didn’t know about, Joe was finding it. Getting rid of it. Letting it leak right out of you.

You allowed your mind to go absolutely blank.

No thoughts.

Just Joe’s touches.

Pure bliss.

Joe’s fingers roamed all over, then slid into your hair to massage at your scalp and you let your eyes flutter closed as your breath hitched.

“Does that feel good?” Joe softly murmured, full attention on the soft noises you were making under his hands.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, but only slightly. Couldn’t muster up more movement.

“Here, wait,” Joe suddenly shifted and pulled you from your daze a little as he sat up more. But then you felt how his hands were trying to find the hem of your top, and you leant forward to help him undress you.

“Sit back,” Joe said after tossing it, and this time, his finger tips rounded out to your front where he let both his hands stroke the soft skin of your chest.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, pulling your shoulders back slightly to push your chest forward, presenting more skin for Joe to touch.

“Yea, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Joe softly commented after you let a shuddery breath escape you, and you could hear Joe’s smile in his voice.

You weren’t ignorant, but you were definitely actively ignoring Joe’s hard length that pressed into your back.

You had felt Joe get hard just after he’d started this.

“Y-yea,” you answered Joe, voice breathy enough to feel Joe twitch. “Feels really good. Never stop, please.”

“Hmm,” Joe hummed, fingers drawing shapes over your collarbones, up the sides of your neck, then down the front over the soft skin of your chest. Joe felt how your skin started feeling hotter to the touch. Heard how your breathing hitched at every inhale.

“Want to know what else feels good?”

Before you could even properly answer his question, he was already moving. Moving from behind you, hands that held you by the shoulders and moved you aside to he could slip out of bed.

“Wha– I said, never stop.”

But then Joe got his hands on your knees and placed himself in between on his stomach as he spread your legs, and he raised a stupid eyebrow before mouthing at your inner thigh.

And, yea. All right.

This view wasn’t all that bad.

Joe looked up at you as he let his mouth climb up your leg, and you could feel your chest bloom.

Joe was so pretty.

You loved his nose. Loved his eyelashes. Loved his stupid freckles and his stupid lines across his forehead.

“Come up here,” you surprised yourself.

“What?” Joe already had a finger hooked in your underwear, but paused and raised his head a little.

“I want you up here.”

Your lips were jealous of your legs; wanted Joe’s mouth for themselves. Wanted Joe’s weight on top of you. Wanted Joe inside.

“But…” you saw how Joe’s eyes flicked down before they looked up and made eye-contact with you again. “What about what I want?”

Your underwear got slid to the side, and Joe let his brow frown a little as you made a little noise of impatience.

“Do you need reminding of how we got here?”

And, Jesus, okay. Fine.

You knew Joe enjoyed getting his mouth on you, but it was somehow also always a surprise that sometimes he seemed to like it more than anything else.

Your underwear got removed, and Joe coaxed you to lay back.

“Get comfy. I’m going to be here a while.”

Had anybody else said that, it would’ve passed for a corny joke. But Joe said it, and he was serious.

Joe got his mouth on you and from every single move he made, he let you know he wasn’t in a hurry. He let his tongue swirl slowly, would suckle and lick and nose at your velvety-soft skin until you were floating.

Joe knew how to make you feel good.

He’d learnt very quickly how to make you feel good.

Took him one week, actually, to be precise.

And who were you to complain about something so lovely? About having a boyfriend that you had low-key bullied all day who desperately wanted to eat you out still? You could be kind. Be polite and let him have what he wanted.

But Joe was working himself up.

Was aching in his boxers.

Kept trying to find pressure by pushing his hips into his mattress. Knew his precum was likely leaving a wet patch on his sheets.

But Joe liked what he was doing too much to do anything about what was stirring in his underwear.

And he kept you on the edge.

Just far enough away from an orgasm, but close enough to feel that it was there.

Lingering.

Somewhere off in the distance.

Felt good.

You could live here forever.

And you felt like you did, a little. Because Joe was leisurely taking his time, absolutely in no rush of moving on from what he was doing. Joe went on until his own sounds became more pornographic than whatever you were letting slip past your lips. You then suddenly felt him wiggle, and looked down to see him struggle out of his own underwear urgently without letting his tongue lose contact with you.

“Joe,” you moaned, and you meant, hurry up.

With a final strong flick of his tongue, Joe sat up onto his knees and towered over you a second as he pulled himself free from his boxers.

“Oh, my God.”

Joe was leaking precum, more than what you’d expected. You wanted to tell him how you liked that. How that was stupidly hot of him.

How dare he get so turned on by eating you out?

But you didn’t get the chance to say anything, because quickly Joe let his mouth find yours, and you finally got what you’d asked for.

Joe’s kisses were feverish, almost desperate. He let himself slip inside of you, both ways, his tongue doing the most to find yours and his hipbones pushing forward until they pressed you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna come,” you’d never heard his voice sound so constricted as his hips bucked, refusing to let up.

It had literally been just a few seconds.

Like he couldn’t fucking help himself.

Like he got so worked up eating you out that there was no way back now.

And you fucking loved it.

A man who couldn’t control himself, turning himself on past the point of no return by trying to make you feel good?

What a fucking dream.

And he wasn’t joking, either.

Joe pressed his forehead against your cheek, his heavy breath warm on your neck, and then his panting turned into groans.

With shuddering movements and loud grunts, Joe orgasmed, pressing you into the mattress with so much strength, you thought he’d never quite been deeper inside of you.

After a few seconds, he stilled, and went lax. Let every single muscle relax as he caught his breath, and Jesus fucking Christ, you loved it so much. Heavy weight on top, blissed out boy. Bare back right there for you to drag finger nails across. Short curls, wet behind his ears, right there for you to play with.

After a while, you felt how soft wet kisses got pressed into your neck, and you smiled at how adored you felt.

Going to sleep after that, being held in his sheets, arms and legs tangled, faces close, feeling loved and lovely and so, so sleepy, you almost didn’t register Joe finding your finger, the one with the plaster, and bringing it over to his mouth to give it the smallest little peck.

This was the type of shit being together with Joe was all about.

Everything felt safe, and sweet, and sort of glorious as you slowly drifted off.

That was the first time.

The first time of the four of you not realising.

You hadn’t even cared, or had even noticed for that matter, that you hadn’t orgasmed.

Didn’t cross you mind once.

The sex had been good. You had really enjoyed yourself.

So, see?

Joe was wrong.

And he’d just given you the best example that proved you right.

---

The Taglisted

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@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

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@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[rollinouttahere]

Joyride

Yandere Strawhats + Ace x Isekai Reader

2.2k words

Part 2

Yet again, this fic is inspired by @lovelybrooke ‘s Isekai reader stories.

I also want to say thank you for all the support and kind comments on the last story I wrote! I’ve actually been working on my own yandere one piece fic that I’m hoping to start posting in a few days give or take, so if you like what I’ve written so far, keep an eye out for that! All future writings are gonna be posted on my writing blog @rollinouttahere-writes​ so go follow that blog if you’re interested!

Trying to act normal and inconspicuous in the One Piece universe was a far from easy task. Being the massive fan of the series that you were, it was damn hard to not give away that you knew all about the crew that was so generously letting you stay with them after appearing on their ship with zero explanation.

It became even harder to stay lowkey when Ace temporarily joined up with the Strawhats. All you wanted was to hug that man and tell him how loved he is and that he deserves to live just as much as anyone else, but you really couldn’t say or do any of that without looking weird. You’ll just have to settle for being extremely nice to him, which was very easy.

Ace himself was already an easy guy to get along with (now at least), but he was noticeably very interested in you. You couldn’t blame him, what with Luffy almost immediately outing your insane situation to him. He seemed incredulous at first, but warmed up to and accepted the story way faster than you expected. It didn’t take long for his questions to go from feeling like an interrogation to being genuine.

You were so busy soaking up the attention from such a beloved character that you almost missed how jealous your crewmates were getting. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were taking it the best. Chopper probably because he was still so new to the crew that he wasn’t all that bothered by one of them not paying as much attention to him. Usopp was too busy building Nami’s weapon to concern himself with it too much. Meanwhile, Luffy was just so happy to see Ace again that he didn’t really notice that you were spending a lot of time with him. That, and he would usually be hanging out with both of you anyways. 

The others though, oh boy did they not like this. Nami was the most blatant about it, straight up glowering at you and Ace whenever you two were too close for her liking. You’re pretty sure the only thing keeping her from up and dragging you away from him is Luffy dismissing her complaints and telling her to stop fretting over it. You love being a part of their crew, so she should quit worrying!

Sanji and Zoro were both vying for your attention in their own ways as well. Sanji suddenly wanted more help around the kitchen, insisting that he needed an extra pair of hands now that there was another mouth to feed. Given that Ace’s appetite was on par with Luffy’s, you could understand the desire for help. Zoro’s attempts were considerably less convincing. One time he wanted you to spot him while he was working out, making you laugh right in his face at the mere idea that you would be able to help him with the ridiculous weights he lifts. His face had gone bright red after you pointed it out to him, prompting him to walk away immediately, much to your amusement.

Right now, though, you weren’t with Ace. Him and Luffy were busy doing something and you didn’t want to butt in on all their time together. Instead, you were ogling Ace’s boat that was currently tied to the side of the Going Merry.

You absolutely loved the design of his ship, it was such a clever idea to use his devil fruit ability to power a steam engine and make what looks like a tiny sailboat function like a jet ski. It didn’t appear in the anime too many times but everytime it was on screen it looked so cool. 

“I wonder what it’d be like to ride that,” you quietly mused to yourself.

“Wanna find out?”

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sudden arrival of Ace. He laughed at your reaction, not a care in the world for the near heart attack he just gave you.

“Oh my God, Ace, you scared the hell out of me!” You lightly slapped at his shoulder, your other hand resting over your now racing heart.

He laughed some more, “I could tell, and I’m sorry about that.” He didn’t sound even vaguely sorry. Ace elbowed your side, “But seriously, do you want to go for a ride?”

The offer had you staring wide-eyed at him. Then the boat. Then back at him again. “Really? Are you sure?” You were desperately trying to keep your cool and not show how insanely excited you were about the idea.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t. Come on,” he hopped up onto the railing and held his hand out to you. You didn’t need to mull it over, eagerly taking hold and stepping up with him. As soon as you did, he wrapped an arm around you and was ready to jump down onto his boat when Nami started yelling.

“Woah, woah, woah, what the hell are you two doing???” Nami, who was previously pruning her trees, had abandoned the activity entirely in favor of sprinting over to where you were and grabbing onto your leg.

“(Y/N) wanted to try riding my boat, so we’re going for a little joyride, that’s all,” Ace flashed Nami a dazzling smile, not at all deterred by her interruption.

“No way! What if they fall off? That thing doesn’t look safe at all!” Nami was now pulling on you, trying to get you down from the railing.

Ace held on tighter in response, “It’s perfectly safe, it has to be. I’m a devil fruit user, remember? (Y/N) isn’t, so really, I’m in more danger on that than they are. It’s fine.”

You could tell Nami was ready to argue more, but thankfully Luffy piped up, “Don’t worry about it Nami! If Ace says it’s safe then it’s safe!” Luffy, who was perched on his special seat at the bow, came bounding over, “But I wanna go next!”

“Sure thing, Luffy, we’ll be back in a bit,” Ace was quick to jump down with you in tow, not wanting to give any of the other Strawhats a chance to object. After untying it from the Going Merry, he knelt down slightly, “Hop on my back, you’re not gonna want to have your feet down there when we get going.”

Not wanting to get set on fire, you obliged. If you weighed anything to him, he didn’t show it, simply standing up straight as soon as you were on. “Ready?”

You excitedly nod your head, holding on tight to Ace in preparation. It was a good thing too, because he decided to immediately start at the leisurely speed of what felt like mach 7. A shriek emits from your throat as you take off. You think you can hear Nami yelling something again, but couldn’t make it out over your own screaming and the noise of the steam engine roaring to life.

Ace laughed loudly at your reaction, but did slow down slightly, “Sorry about that, I just wanted to get some distance before anyone else tried to stop us.” One of his arms let go of your leg and tugged at your arms around his neck, “But would you mind easing up a bit? I won’t be able to take us back if you choke me out.” 

“Oh oops, I’m sorry!” You immediately loosened your arms and readjusted them. Accidentally strangling Ace was not something you wanted to do today. Or any day really.

He simply shrugged it off, telling you not to worry about it. It’s not like you could really hurt him. “I’m gonna speed up again, you ready for it this time?”

The second you confirm that you are, the boat lurches forward, cutting through the waves like nothing. Now that you weren’t panicking, you could properly take in the experience and thoroughly enjoy it. 

The wind was whipping through your hair and sea water misted the air, droplets clinging to both yours and Ace’s hair. He hit a particularly big wave causing the boat to go airborne for a moment before crashing back down. You found yourself laughing and cheering as Ace continued to show off, which only egged him on more.

After a while, Ace slowed to a stop and let you down from his back. “C’mere, step up on this,” he stepped to the side and motioned for you to step up onto the front of his boat. His hands rested on your hips to keep you steady, presumably not wanting to get chewed out by Nami if you came back sopping wet. 

“This is one of the best parts of being at sea,” he was staring straight ahead. “Sunsets out here are something else, you don’t get a view like this on land.”

He was completely correct, it was beautiful. Orange, red, and pink hues colored the sky and reflected gorgeously in the ocean. It was a breathtaking view, one you would remember forever.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, quietly admiring the view with nothing but the natural sounds of the ocean around you. It was nice, very peaceful. 

“What do you think about staying here?”

You tense at Ace suddenly speaking. “Like staying out here a little longer?” As lovely as this was, the others were bound to get antsy if you stayed out after dark.

“No, I mean staying here in this world,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms fully around you and resting his head on your shoulder to be able to see your face. “It’s nice here, right? Why not stick around? I know Luffy wants you to. Hell, I’m sure the rest of the crew does, too.”

You were taken aback by this statement, and weren’t really sure how to respond. Sure, it could be nice here when you all weren’t being hunted for sport by marines, but this wasn’t a place you could see yourself staying long term. That, and you had a life back home, you couldn’t just throw your friends and family to the wind like that.

Sucking in a breath, you searched for the nicest way to say all that. “It is nice here, but I have to go back.” You could feel his posture stiffen behind you, “Don’t get me wrong, you all have been super nice to me! It’s just that I’ve got all my friends and family back home and I miss them terribly.”

“Your family?” Ace said this so quietly that you weren’t even sure he was saying that to you. Abruptly, he straightened up, “I know! If you want a family so bad you can join the Whitebeard pirates!”

What? You joining the Whitebeard pirates? You already feel inadequate enough around the Strawhats, you can’t imagine how pathetic you would feel around those people. Of course, it would be awesome to get to meet them, but you want to keep to yourself as much as possible since you will eventually have to go back home.

While you were thinking, Ace kept going, “Pops would love you, I just know it. We haven’t gotten another sibling in a while, everyone would be psyched to meet you.” His once comforting hug was growing tighter by the second. Suffocating even.

“Ace-”

“And you already have friends with my brother’s crew, so that’s all taken care of!”

“Ace, ple-”

“Of course, I’m your friend too, but after you join I’ll be your big brother!”

“ACE!” Your yell startled him, mercifully making him let go of you. You take the opportunity to inch forward and create some distance, however minute.  “That’s,” oh, how to put this without hurting his feelings, “that’s very kind of you to offer, but I’d rather stay with the Strawhats for now.”

“Oh…” You don’t even need to turn around to know how disappointed he was by this declaration. He chuckled awkwardly, “I’m sorry about that, looks like I got a little carried away there.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” frankly, you just wanted to go back to the ship after that. The atmosphere was uncomfortable now.

After a few more seconds of silence, Ace cleared his throat and spoke again, “We should probably head back now, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

You were quick to agree and clambered onto his back, “Yeah that’s a good idea, Nami would throw a fit if we stay out much longer.” She’ll probably be mad regardless, but still.

Ace got his boat going and began the trip back. The Going Merry was a lot further away than you’d realized, it was so small that you could just barely make it out in the distance. You internally cringe, your crewmates are no doubt unhappy about you being this far away.

Despite the distance, you couldn’t help but notice how slow Ace was going compared to earlier. It’s like he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. You decided not to call him out on it, not deeming it worth it.

“I’m not giving up, you know.”

“What?” 

“I’ll drop it for now, but I’m not giving up on you joining Whitebeard’s crew. Just… think about it, okay?” Ace’s voice was quiet, just barely loud enough to hear over the engine. 

The rest of the ride back remained dead silent, giving you plenty of time to mull over what just happened. It felt so… Weird. Out of character, really. He’s known you for, what? 24 hours? If that. Yet he’s trying to talk you out of going home and seems dead set on replacing your family with his own. Granted, everyone’s been more clingy than you thought normal, but this was downright bizarre. 

You really need to find a way home, and fast.

[heyclickadee]

So, here’s the thing. The finale is weird. Yes, I’m hurt by the fact that Tech didn’t come back and that a character that’s very near and dear to my heart was badly handled, and that will never sit right with me. But even apart from that, the finale fundamentally does not function as a piece of storytelling or as the end to this story. I’m glad that people are enjoying it, and I will never tell anyone not to. But I don’t think it works. (I get very negative about the TBB finale under the cut.)

It’s not just the Tech stuff or the CX-2 stuff (which may very well have been the same stuff) that got dropped. It’s *everything*. Every theme, Every narrative thread besides retrieving Omega, every character arc except marginally Omega’s, Echo’s (also marginal), and Emerie’s, which was the shortest and gets wrapped up by her deciding to help Echo rescue the kids. It all stops. It makes everything that came before seem cheap and pointless if you take it into account. And this is so, so frustrating for me, because the entire show was driving towards this incredibly rich payoff, it could have been immaculate, and then it whiffed the ball so bad in the last episode that it didn’t just miss, it managed to knock over the bleachers and set the entire court on fire.

Some examples:

1. This season had a really interesting exploration of Crosshair’s PTSD via his hand tremor and how it was something he can learn to manage, but not something that would ever fully go away. Aaaaand then his hand gets chopped off. One, that was stupid. I’ve seen some excellent posts (here’s one by @the-bi-space-ace) detailing why that was a terrible way to handle Crosshair’s lingering trauma, and others talking about how the idea there was that Crosshair needed to move on and it was severing his last ties with the empire. The former, I agree with; the latter, I don’t, because not only—not only!—does this episode stop dealing with Crosshair’s trauma, it doesn’t even deal with having cut off his hand! It just sort of occurs. No one reacts to it, no one says anything about it, there’s no follow up or commentary, nothing happens as a result—it’s an event which occurs with no results coming after it. It may as well be an animation error. You can say it was about Crosshair needing to let go and move on, but that’s something you have to project on to the text, not something that’s actually offered by it. It’s empty.

2. Crosshair again: We also have the lingering issue of Crosshair’s guilt and the fact that he never seems to get to a point where it’s resolved. There’s set up for a resolution. We have that, “Sure you have,” like about Crosshair from Rampart. We also have Crosshair saying he deserves whatever happens to him in Tantiss. And then…no pushback. No resolution. No moment of Crosshair realizing that he doesn’t need to carry that burden. Nothing that says he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He had all this character development this season, but he needed - last little push to forgive himself—and we never get any indication that he does. It, like his trauma, gets dropped like a rock.

3. Hey! More Crosshair! A good chunk of Crosshair’s arc this season was about learning that anyone can change, first, and that no one is beyond saving. Eeexcept that goes no where.

4. Which brings me to my next point: There is set up for the CXs to be saved. Even if we’re laboring under the conclusion that CX-2 was never intended to be Tech at any point in the writing process (I have. Doubts. Yes, I’m calling the creative team liars, here, but with the understanding that they have contracts that may require them to lie), we do have the set up where we learn the electrocyanide zappers can be removed, and with Rex offering forgiveness to CX-1. “Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us.” CX-Tech or no, Crosshair’s arc was tied up with the CX plot, and because he’s the one the CXs tend to react to—or, at least, understands what was done to them—the set up was there for him to help save and maybe rehab the CXs. At the least, there was an indication that they could be saved. Eeexcept nope! That gets dropped like a rock, too, and they’re not going to deal with it. Time for maximum carnage.

5. Hunter’s arc actually takes a step backwards. Sure, he gets a technically happy ending, but because the squad is basically in the same place they were in “Pabu” back in season two (down a member but successfully hiding from the Empire in a safe place), it negates Hunter’s development towards actually taking action—and actually hurts Echo’s arc, too.

There’s been this tension all through the show between just sitting things out on the one hand (Hunter’s way) and taking direct action despite the futility on the other (Echo’s way), but instead of finding some kind of middle ground or third road, it sort of comes back around to saying that, actually, Hunter was right, they should have just gone to Idaflor back in episode three and never left even though the Pabu invasion said that no, you can’t just hide, and even Hunter’s development was moving in the opposite direction. And this also means that Echo never reaches a point where he feels like he can walk away and that he doesn’t have to get himself killed doing this. Despite development otherwise they both end up back at that conversation in “Tipping Point” without any move in either direction or resolution of that tension.

6. Omega. Okay, Omega probably comes out the best after the finale, and, conceptually, I actually love the idea of Omega becoming a pilot even if the epilogue falls a little flat for me. But stuff with Omega still got dropped, including:

- The force stuff. We have two episodes dealing with m-count (after learning in episode three what Omega was created to do). We also have Ventress telling Omega that she doesn’t have a high m-count as far as she can see, Crosshair immediately calling Ventress out for lying, and then Ventress basically saying, “Yeah, no shit, but if she has force potential she’d have to leave you behind, and it doesn’t matter what your opinion on that is, so I’m not dealing with that.” Aaaand then,m. That. Goes nowhere. Despite a bit of set up for Omega connecting to the force as early as episode one, and some more set up in Tribe, and that whole subplot of her learning how to meditate, and so on.

Now, I don’t think that it was ever going to turn out that Omega did actually have a high m-count or that she had a particularly powerful natural connection to the force. I think she’s probably got a low or baseline m-count. What I do think, however, is that we were going to see Omega connect anyway as a refutation of Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire scheme. Their goal (based off of the ST) was to create extremely force sensitive clones as a way for Palpatine to jump bodies without having to waste time re-learning how to connect to the force. You know—dark side, quick and easy path, focus on eugenics and raw power, etc. Had Omega connected anyway because of her big heart and desire to protect, it would have not only paid off that set up, it would have also refuted Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire goal. It would have worked so well thematically and the set up was THERE.

- branching off of that, I think the Omega force stuff was probably tied to the Zillo beast. We also had a through-line of Omega being good with animals and taking the time to calm them instead of responding with violence. The first time we see this is in “Replacements,” where she realizes that the ordo moon dragon (also an electrophage—I don’t know what to call these things—like the zillo beast) is just scared and hungry. This is all conjectural, but it still fits with what was set up.

- Moving on from the force stuff, we also had a through-line that started way back in episode two of the series, but which was really emphasized this season, about Omega feeling like she’s the cause of the bad things that happen to the people she loves. This is why she gives herself up during the Pabu invasion in the first place. This is never resolved! We get Omega’s confidence boost when she realizes she has the force kids to take care of, but we never get a moment where Omega realizes that she has no reason to feel guilty. She’s the glue that holds the family together! But nope! Also dropped!

- But wait! There’s more! The first two season finales have Omega watching someone she loves fall away while she’s helpless to do anything to save them. That’s perfect set up to put Omega in the same situation, but be able to save them, because she’s finally come into her own. Instead we just end up with her needing to be rescued again.

- Omega has this big speech in Shadows of Tantiss about spending her life stuck in one place or another against her will, and how she refuses to be confined like that. I don’t think Omega would have been happy just staying on Pabu for the entire rest of her childhood and young adult life, even if I think she’d want to use it on a home base. But! Dropped!

7. I still can’t get over the fact that the zillo beast is on screen for about two minutes and then just. Walks away. It’s a large beastie that’s been locked in confinement for a while and is probably hungry. And somehow it didn’t go straight to the reactors for some delicious energy smoothies. Like. It. Did. The. Last. Time. Someone. Let. It. Out. But no, that would have required it sticking around for something that was probably dropped sooooo ZILLO BEAST EXIT STAGE RIGHT I GUESS. (Edit: I have been reminded that Hemlock does say to turn off the generators once the zillo beast is out, so that at least makes sense. I still think the zillo beast should have stuck around to do something.)

8. You notice how there are a ton of commandos around Tantiss, even up through “Flash Strike?” And how they kind of largely cease to exist? And how Echo says that there are far more clones imprisoned in Tantiss than anyone thought? And then how they rescue, like, a dozen guys? Because we never find our way back to those cells Crosshair was held in during season two? And how Tarkin does mention not wanting to allow clone dissidence to turn into an uprising back in “The Summit?” Because I did. This show was never going to be about a clone rebellion, that wasn’t the point, buuut I do think the set up was there for an uprising at Tantiss itself. Begin the series with clones losing their agency en masse, end the series with some of the most subdued clones taking it back. Except nope, dropped, soooo we gotta pretend the commandos don’t exist and murder the hell out of poor Scorch.

9. SPEAKING OF. The batch does kill clones sometimes, that does happen, but they do at least usually make some kind of effort to be non-lethal even when they’re not using stun, and times when they do resort to lethal tactics are usually born out of extreme circumstances. Not here, though!! NO HESITATION MAXIMUM CARNAGE. For. Reasons I guess.

10. There’s one point IN THE FINALE where Echo mentions signaling for Rex. This never comes up again. Rex does not show up. In fact, despite being called, “The Cavalry Has Arrived,” the cavalry does not in fact arrive. There is no cavalry. Yes, I know it’s a reference to Wrecker’s first line. But I’m sorry if you call an episode that YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A CAVALRY SHOW UP. Especially when you have a one about calling them in! But that also!! Got dropped like a rock!!

11. One positive: the moment Crosshair and Hunter leaning on each other to make that shot was nice.

12. Sorry, but Hemlock’s death was deeply unsatisfying. Let’s do something more than just shoot him multiple times, okay?

13. Rampart’s death, on the other hand, was incredibly satisfying. That said, the conversation about project necromancer? I’m dying. It’s actually hilarious, because it basically goes like:

“Tell me about project necromancer.”

“Wow! How interesting!”

I’m.

Are you serious?

I’m going to become the Joker.

Yes, I know we know what project necromancer is because of a different show. That’s not the point, the POINT. Is that any pay off for project necromancer in this show got dropped. And that’s deeply frustrating from a narrative perspective.

14. Speaking of, we never find out anything more regarding that partially successful m-count transfer from episode three.

15. We also never do anything with those medical records!

16. And Omega has a whole crossbow she never actually shoots despite the fact that her role on the team was as a sharpshooter after Crosshair left, and despite her getting advice from Crosshair on how to be a sniper. The literal chekov’s gun never goes off. I’m going to go eat gravel.

17. AZI, likewise, got toted around for three seasons for no reason. Probably could have helped with the medical records. Given that he was a Kaminoan medical droid. Oh, and that Omega was Nala Se’s medical assistant. So. Hmm.

18. You can cut everything in the season past episode five and skip straight to the epilogue and end up in the same place. This is not because the other episodes are filler. Far from it! The other episodes are great and deliver some amazing set up. But, because the finale does nothing with that set up, it doesn’t go anywhere.

19. And you know what else? From a narrative perspective, there’s no reason for Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair to be in these episodes at all. They don’t accomplish anything and make everyone else’s job harder. Omega was doing fine, she would have gotten out with the kids with just Echo and Emerie, and Tarkin was coming to cut off Hemlock’s funding and shut everything down once Hemlock lost control of the facility anyway. I can only suppose that the whole reason they were in this episode ended up getting dropped, too.

20. CX-2. Listen, the answer we get about CX-2 isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “Maybe, maybe not—you don’t get to know.” Because. He’s the only CX whose mask never comes off. After a season and a half worth of buildup of unmasking CXs and people pressing them to learn their names. It’s not a no, it’s a non-answer, which is far less satisfying.

And finally:

21: CX-Tech. I’ve seen some people speculating that there was a planned CX-Tech reveal that got scrapped at the last minute—dropped, along with the other points I’ve already laid out. And, honestly? I have to agree. Despite what the creative team says, because even their denials kind of come out weird (like the Kiners saying that the large brass chord in “Battle of the Snipers” was just a nice sounding brass chord and not a reference to “Plan 99.” They also basically say that the sacrifice theme from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif. Which. Is all over “Battle of the Snipers.” That theme. Not Crosshair’s. In a scene. Where he’s supposed to be fighting a shadow of himself who Totally Isn’t Tech but we put Tech’s leitmotif here and layered it in Techno music but nooo that was never supposed to be him. Nope. I mean, come on. I’m not stupid).This post is already long enough, so here are some posts by @apocalyp-tech-a pointing out the reasons why I think this was the case, and one by @eriexplosion pointing out why CX-2 as Crosshair’s shadow and only that doesn’t quite work. I don’t need to go over the trail that was laid out again. Up to the finale this was a character that had more screen time—and far more solo screen time—than Echo. Some people will not stop yelling that there was no evidence, and. No. I’m sorry, there was. I can’t agree.

And some people might say, well, okay, the show misdirected you guys and pulled off a twist by having CX-2 be no one, and well, I can’t agree with that either. Twists only function if the twist is more satisfying than the conclusion to which the story seems to be leading. And I’m sorry, you can’t tell me that a season and a half of CX building and three seasons (because I can find set up all the way back in episode one of the show) for Tech survival culminating in what amounts to a boss fight is more satisfying than getting to see Omega have her big brother back. You can’t.

The reason I bring this up last is because, yes, I think CX-Tech was a plot dropped at the last minute, but because I also think that it’s the dropped plot that ripped everything else apart. CX-Tech was an incredibly efficient way to tie up most of the lingering plot threads and dropped character development.

-Crosshair’s guilt? Okay, he faces down the end result of his decision to stay with the empire and possibly something he knew about (Tech would be in this situation because of Crosshair, and were given hints that Crosshair knew) and is finally able to forgive himself because they’re able to save him.

- Hunter’s decision to finally take action and be proactive rather than reactive is validated, because it’s the thing that finally gets him his entire family back.

- Echo saves someone the same way he was saved, and maybe he realizes that it is enough and that he doesn’t have to be a soldier forever.

- Wrecker’s efforts to keep the family together and keep Hunter sane finally pay off.

- Omega is able to protect the people she charges about and finally, finally has all of her brothers.

- Thematically, it rounds off each member of the batch (Omega included) traumatically losing and then taking back their agency in a way that correlates directly to who and how they are as people.

- It also rounds out the OG batchers each being haunted by a failure that has to do with the thing that makes them special.

- You get pushback against “Clone Force 99 died with Tech! We’re not that squad anymore!” because no, it didn’t, and they’re more than a squad, they’re a family.

- It comes around and closes the wound opened in Aftermath and ripped back open by Return to Kamino: they go in for Omega and lose someone, but here, they go in for Omega and get someone back.

- Would allow Tech to close off his lingering threads and finish his character development BECAUSE THOSE REMAINED UNFINISHED.

- Completely subverts the “bury your disabled” trope by making sure we know the character whose disability was explored the most’s life is more important than his death. Seems like an important thing to do in a show that is kind of about disability. Just saying.

- Makes the lack of closure and little mentions of Tech make sense from a storytelling POV because the necessarily catharsis would come from his return.

- And it would actually add some triumph to the ending. Yes, this little family survived. They outlived the war. They’re together, despite every effort to rip them apart. They made it, despite the dark times, despite the Empire, despite what they were made to do and be. They defied all of that. That would have been so, so satisfying.

As is, without Tech, without that CX-Tech reveal, we sort of end up in this weird place where all the themes are half-baked. They are more than soldiers…except Tech, who had to fall out of the story as a soldier (despite us getting the clearest glimpse of what his life outside of soldiering could have been). They get to live how they want…except Tech. They don’t leave their own behind, except Tech that one time. They should value their own lives a little…except Tech. They’re more than a squad, they’re a family…except Tech, the only one besides Omega to say that’s what they are, doesn’t get to see it, and they don’t get to have him around. We begin the series with a broken family and end it with a family broken differently. That’s not dynamic.

So there’s no really punch to the ending. It’s sort of…well, okay, we tortured a family for three seasons I guess. Relieved that the survivors are doing okay, but that’s kind of it.

22. The finale in general is just sort of a bunch of events which happen, but which don’t lead into one other. It’s weird. It’s not that too much happens, it’s that almost nothing happens. Nothing of substance, in a way. The finale is, in a word, the only true filler episode in the entire show.

TL;DR: I think a lot of stuff got dropped from the finale. I don’t know why. I suspect that it might have to do with the strikes—basically, the script was done, most everything was recorded and boarded, and then when the finale was in production they got sudden drastic budget cuts (this was during a time when the studios were disappearing entire completed shows and movies as tax write-offs), had to gut what they had planned, and couldn’t bring the writers or even showrunners in to smooth over what was gutted or to even pick what got taken out. They wouldn’t have gotten to choose or compress things. They were on strike (because the studios wouldn’t negotiate), and whoever did choose ended up just ripping out the stuff that would actually take any time or budget to deal with (so, basically everything I laid out), killing it (literally), and using the remains of what they already had recorded. And who knows how they had to fill in gaps.

But I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was a last minute decision to take certain plot points and put them in a different show. Maybe it was executive mandate. Maybe the creative team just sucked the whole time (that’s one I have a hard time buying—we have four other shows and most of this one that tell me that they’re better at their jobs than this). Maybe everyone said screw it, who even cares anymore at the same time.

Maybe nothing happened. Who knows? I strongly suspect something bad did happen behind the scenes that was out of the creative team’s hands—I really do, because that’s the only way I can make sense of this—but until we can get someone talking without six layers of PR and NDAs, we won’t know for sure. All I know is that The Bad Batch is an amazing show with 46 episodes that range from “fine-but-clunky” to “IMMACULATE,” with more leaning towards immaculate than not, and some incredible set up, and one episode so nonsensically bad it makes me want to eat drywall.

It’s just that the one terrible episode comes right at the end.

I love The Bad Batch. I love every single episode and all the things that were set up, but…eh, I think I’ll be ignoring the finale until further notice.

[erraticprocrastinator]

Reposting this on Tumblr because, why not?

I’d like to add, now that I’m free from X’s character limit, that I am aware that there are a select few people out there who do write or make art for certain ships with the goal of criticising or “fixing” the relationships and identities in canon, but, at least from what I’ve seen, I truly don’t believe that this is the majority of Hazbin shippers (or non-canon shippers in general). Especially for a show with such heavy queer representation, with a largely queer audience, where most of the popular fan ships are also queer, I don’t think most people are approaching this with erasure in mind.

I know that I, for one, definitely didn’t start shipping RadioApple because I wanted to ignore or change Lucifer and Alastor’s identities in canon. I just found myself drawn to the characters, and their potential for chemistry outside of a canon setting, and decided to let myself have fun with those ideas — which, until now, I kind of thought was supposed to be the purpose of fan content, anyway. I don’t ship them because I don’t like who they are in canon, or because I want them to ever get together in canon (I don’t!), just like I think it’s generally assumed that most people who make gender-bend content don’t actually want the characters to be a different gender, or that people who kill off their favourite characters don’t actually want it to happen.

I’ve truly never seen this be such an issue in any fandom other than Hazbin, even for other LGBTQ-friendly animated shows. I know that this fandom can be pretty hostile in general, but I can’t pretend that I don’t find it disheartening when the comments of almost every adorable piece of fanart I find are littered with things like “but Charlie is with Vaggie!”, “Alastor is ace so this would never happen” (a topic that honestly deserves its own post), or “Angel can’t be with XYZ because HuskerDust is confirmed!”. We know guys. We know. That’s why we sit here writing fanfiction, making fanart; to explore ideas we haven’t seen in canon, or that haven’t been expanded on yet. Fandom is supposed to be a safe space for people who want to test their creativity, not a place to jump on each other because of it. As always, if something isn’t your cup of tea, you’re free to scroll past, click back, or filter out. There’s no need to rain on content that ultimately isn’t harming anyone, especially, and I really can’t emphasise this enough, especially if you support non-canon ships in other fandoms.

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys falling in love at first sight

☆ characters: ace, rayleigh, marco

☆ up next: one piece characters with a jealous gf

☆ a/n: my last post generated a lot of new followers and requests! i'm so happy and am excited to start working on all the requests. i also will be posting a master list soon so thank u for being patient with me on that front haha. enjoy! &lt;3

ace

1k words

“Welcome aboard!!”

Cheers erupted from the crew, as they all swarmed the deck.

Joining the Whitebeard Pirates was always celebrated with an enormous party. 

The sun had started to set but it still beat down relentlessly on the ship and Ace craned his neck to try and get a better view.

You were all the crew had been talking about for weeks. 

Some thief who had managed to steal from the Whitebeard Pirates and get away with it. 

He remembers how Whitebeard laughed when Izo and Thatch came moping back from inventory, nearly pissing themselves when they were forced to admit they’d been got by an amateur. 

Whitebeard had ordered that you be tracked down immediately because anyone who stole from him with that much skill and audacity deserved a spot on his crew. 

After a few weeks of searching, Izo came back with you. 

From what he’d heard you weren’t easy to convince. 

There was alcohol being passed around and the spray of champagne bottles being opened left and right misted his neck. 

He pushed through everyone and began making his way toward the front.

He eventually bumped into Marco who’d secured a front-row seat, downing beer as your fellow pirates all came to get a look at you. 

“What’s the big fuss? Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” he groaned. 

Marco laughed, “Jealous that you’re not the shiny new toy anymore?”

“Barely.”

Both men had given up on trying to get a look at you and decided they’d wait for everything to die down.

“Want a beer?” 

Ace nodded and readily accepted the cool can, chugging it within seconds.

“It’s hot as hell out here.”

Marco took another sip of his drink, “If you feel hot how do you think I feel.”

“Well you’re kind of fire too, you know, like- the whole phoenix thing is-”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s different though.”

“I mean, you could argue that the blue fire is hotter than the red part.”

“Yeah, dumbass, but the point of my devil fruit isn’t fire.”

“Okay well, they’re close enough.”

The heat got the better of the both of them and they gave up their argument, both fairly moody at the heat and the noise. 

“When’s the food part starting.”

“Soon probably, apparently Thatch has the hots for the kid.”

Ace choked a bit on his drink.

“What do you mean? Like he thinks he’s hot?”

“She.”

This caught Ace even more off-guard. 

“She!?”

Now he really wanted to get a look at you.

After another few minutes, the crowd relented, and people started making their way back to the rest of the ship. 

As the group of cheering pirates around you thinned, you felt relief flooding your senses. 

You took a deep breath and walked on board the Moby Dick.

It was massive. Now that you could actually see it, you realized just how intimidating of a ship this really was. Of course, you’d had a general idea since you did rob it blind, but still. It was different when you were a welcome guest. 

Ace took his chance now, and as the last of your welcoming party dissipated he made his way over to you.

As if on cue, you turned to look at him. 

The sun was positioned perfectly behind your head and framed you in a sort of angelic light, it poured up and over your frame from behind you, casting golden hues through your h/c hair. 

He stopped in his tracks, one foot still caught mid-step, trailing behind the other.

You were… pretty.

The slight breeze that had been brought with sunset, swept through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open.

Your lips were slightly parted, had you been saying something?

He didn’t know, he was too enraptured with everything else. 

You stood tall, it was clear you had pride to spare.

Your tan skin glimmered with the same regal hue as your hair, and never in his life had Ace felt that something- someone had commanded his attention so thoroughly with just their presence. 

You walked toward him, Oh my god she’s walking toward me.

He was proud and he had abundant confidence in his worth but if he’d ever doubted that, it was now that he did. 

You extended a hand towards Ace, and as if moving through honey your movement was gentle and smooth, but certain. 

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I think I’ve seen your wanted posters before. You-”

Whatever else you said wasn’t registered by the freckled boy in front of you. 

His cheeks were red and his eyes set.

He was breathing deeply, hanging onto everything you did, drinking in the magnificent sight of you.

He instinctively reached his hand up toward his head to take off his hat and hold it against his chest.

Your voice was silky and hung in the air like cigarette smoke. 

The way you looked at him, your eyes intensely focused and direct, had his knees feeling shaky. 

Any ounce of ego left in his body from the first sight of you, drained out of him as you spoke.

His brain was flushed with sudden anxieties.

Had he come across as a creep? What if you took to the other guys? He was young and maybe you wanted something else? Maybe you didn’t even want a guy at all and your ambitions involving piracy had nothing to do with men! 

You looked at him with a puzzled look, your nose wrinkled slightly.

“Are you okay?”

Fuck, she’s so cute.

If he had been less out of it, he would have heard Marco’s cackling in the background.

“Real smooth, Ace!” Thatch yelled from the balcony outside the kitchen.

You laughed, She laughed!

Ace blinked back the muddled thoughts and premature anxieties that had started fuzzing his thoughts. 

You were giggling to yourself and seemed nearly ready to try and introduce yourself to the next person. 

Ace had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he had time. You both had all the time in the world. 

So he instead opted to tip his hat and flash you a smile. 

“Hi.”

rayleigh

1k words

A quick stop, Roger had promised.

No more than two days, he’d said.

Everyone knew he was lying, and that they’d be landbound for at least a week, but no one was going to complain.

Almost no one.

“Roger, we should get going,” Rayleigh urged, but the Captain was three beers and ฿3,000 into a game of poker. They wouldn’t be leaving until morning.

Roger laughed loudly, earning stares from the bar's patrons. 

“What’re you in such a rush for?! There’re women and booze all over the island, go find some to your liking and quit complainin’!” He laughed again and Rayleigh gave up and decided he’d just head back to the ship for now. He’d send someone to pick up the captain in the morning. 

He didn’t mind the island itself. It was a spring island, and the clime sat at a gentle temperature, with easy-going winds. Tall grass covered the majority of the island and flowers were in bloom all over. 

Yellow daffodils and pink tulips littered the island, dotting the hills and fields with spots of color. 

He made his way slowly back toward the ship, taking more time than usual to enjoy the scenery. If he was going to be stuck here he may as well enjoy it. 

The sun was just about the set, and vibrant hues of orange colored the sky and with his hands in his pockets, he wandered through the hills back to sea. 

The island had no real port, there was just a bay where ships parked. There weren’t any walkways or built-in passages from which to disembark from the ship, you simply had to drop the anchor and paddle or swim to the rocky shore. The grass grew right up to the edge of the ocean, and he sat down in it, deciding he’d wait until it got dark. 

A soft rustling to his left caught his attention.

Tucked in the grass, was a girl sleeping, a book in her hands. 

She was wearing a white dress, and it moved together with the grass, back and forth, pushed by the wind.

A cool breeze ran through your body and with a slight shiver, you slowly blinked your eyes open, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, rolling onto your stomach. 

You flipped through the pages of your book, going back and forth a few times before deciding to close it altogether. 

You sat up, stretching your arms out over your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. 

Rayleigh was, for lack of a better term, entranced. 

He was completely hypnotized by the sight of you. 

He felt as though you’d materialized before him, a beautiful fairy or something similar.

He’d heard stories of sailors coming across women whose beauty stopped them in their tracks. Women that they thought about every night after those initial encounters, held a complete hold on their minds.

He thought that now he felt something similar. 

He felt awkward just sitting and watching you, and thought he might say something. 

A tug in his chest urged him to stand up and try and present himself, but he felt an irritating nervousness spread throughout his body.

C’mon, Rayleigh.

He was usually so… good at this. 

If he saw a pretty girl at a bar or a port or an island he would just talk to her. 

Everything after that came naturally. 

He was a Roger pirate for god’s sake, people around the globe feared him and revered him, and yet… and yet with every breath, he took to try and start a sentence he came up blank. 

The thirty seconds he’d spent trying to speak to you felt like an hour and he thought his heart might stop when you’d turned around to look at him. 

“Oh! Hello!”

He drew in a breath. 

The colored sunset light fell on your face and illuminated your features in soft hues.

Your eyes widened slightly at the man standing before you and you gave him an awkward smile. 

“Have you been standing there a long time?”

An accusatory look settled on your face, and your lips settled into a frustrated pout.

“I, um, yes,” he admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, “I wasn’t- I mean- I had just sat here to enjoy the, um-”

“Yeah, yeah, you creep, I get it.”

You laughed as you said this, and he relaxed a little.

“You’re not from around here are you?” you asked.

“What gave it away?”

“You seem surprised that someone was sleeping outside. It’s normal here, I swear I’m not some weirdo or anything. Our grass is known for being soft.”

He sat back down, slightly closer to you this time.

“What’s that?”

You sat closer to him, pointing to the log pose on his wrist. 

“It’s a compass. Pirates use it on the Grand Line, it works by using the magnetism from each island to route the way toward the next one.”

“You’re a pirate! You don’t look like one! Or act like one.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

You giggled, and he felt completely swept up by your presence. How quickly you started trusting him, the curiosity in your voice that only grew with each question he answered. 

You continued asking him questions, what being a pirate was like, why he was a pirate, and who else did he know that was a pirate. Had he killed anybody?

The more you talked, the more he started feeling like himself. His wittiness and sarcasm started slowly coming back to him, he was able to put aside his awe for your beauty in exchange for his usual flirtiness.

The dynamic between you seemed to shift back and forth between who felt bold and who felt shy. 

“Do you drink?”

“Do I look like I drink?”

Rayleigh laughed, and you joined him. 

Night had set hours ago, yet you kept talking as though you had all the time in the world.

You inched even closer to him, he sat with his legs crossed, and you sat on your knees, feet tucked underneath you. 

You were facing each other and you leaned forward, bringing your lips closer to his.

“When do you leave?”

He tucked some stray pieces of hair behind your ear, trailing a hand down your face.

You rested your head against his palm, looking up at him. 

“Soon.”

“That’s too bad. I like you a lot. You’re more than a pretty face.”

Rayleigh smiled at that, “I haven’t heard that one before!”

In a burst of energy and eagerness you pressed your lips to his, and just as quickly retracted. 

He smiled again, bigger this time, and brought his arms around your waist, holding you in place. 

You pressed another kiss to his lips, still too quickly for him to reciprocate. 

He laughed and you felt proud at the blush you saw coloring his cheeks. 

“Tell me, pirate, are you busy tonight?”

“Not at all, pretty.”

“Would you like to be?”

“Very much.

marco 

1.2k words

“Why can’t you send Ace to do it?”

“‘Cause I sent ‘im to go get fish from the market,” Thatch explained, “And before you ask, I can’t go either ‘cause I’ll be here. Cooking.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back soon.”

Marco threw on a sweater and made his way into the town they were staying in. Thatch was all worked up and excited since they’re known for their produce and food quality.

Naturally, everyone had been sent out to get different ingredients for him.

Marco looked down at the short list he was given, ‘Apples’. 

‘Very concise,’ he thought to himself. 

It was midday and the sun was shining. It was fairly warm on the island, and it was covered in trees. 

There were several signs that pointed him towards the location of the apple farm your family owned. 

He found it with ease and walked around for a bit when he didn’t see anyone out front. 

Every tree was teaming with ripe apples of all kinds. Overripe ones littered the floor and there were some chickens walking around. 

He had been walking for no more than five minutes before he saw you.  

You were reaching up to try and grab the apples that were up on the higher branches of the tree.

You strained your arms upward, using the trunk of the tree as support, your long legs balancing on the tips of your toes. 

Your short dress slid up against your thighs, revealing a soft tan line. 

A few beads of sweat formed on your forehead and after your third reach with no success, you gave up. 

He could feel the pace of his heartbeat start to pick up slightly. 

You looked so calm and at ease. The line of your body as you stretched upward was tantalizing and he couldn’t look away. 

He didn’t want to scare you so he gently cleared his throat.

You turned around in a panic, knocking over a few of the apples in the full baskets that were on the floor next to you.

“Oh! Welcome! Sorry! Sorry- I’m the only one in today and I was trying to get a few more baskets full,” you explained to him. 

“No worries,” Marco said. His voice was deep and he sounded so laid back. 

You were still a bit too far to converse at a normal volume so you walked to him, caught off-guard by how handsome he was. 

He wasn’t wearing anything surprising, nor was he doing anything that was out of the ordinary but you could tell that he wasn’t from around here. 

His hands were calloused and he had a few visible scars spread across the visible parts of his skin.

“What can I get for you today,” you smiled at him. 

“I was sent out for apples! I suppose I’ll take two baskets pleas-”

Marco’s voice trailed off and he cut off his own sentence as he looked and actually made eye contact with you. 

Oh, god. 

He knew you’d probably be hot based on what he’d seen earlier but you were… unspeakably beautiful. 

Your cheeks were full and bright.

Your lips were a lively pink and your eyes caught the shifting glimmers of sunlight in them.

Your hair was pulled back into two messy braids and your loose strands of hair swept back and forth over your face. 

You were unbelievably flattered. 

Naive as you were to love and its complications, you knew what a tempted man looked like. 

An unfamiliar sensation tugged at your chest. You felt like the tendons and muscles around your heart were opening and contracting wildly. 

Your breath hitched in your throat and settled itself right on your vocal cords, you couldn’t say anything. 

You both held a hilariously awkward form of eye contact for several moments. 

Marco swallowed and cleared his mind, regaining his composure to the best of his ability.

“Two of these,” he said again, blinking his gaze down toward the floor as he gestured down toward the basket. 

You took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing another basket for him. 

They were heavier than they looked and after watching your two failed tries at lifting the baskets, Marco offered some help. “Oh, y-yes, please! Thanks,” you said, stepping back as he walked over and picked up the baskets with ease.

“How much do I owe ya?”

“Um.. j-just ฿15.”

“Fifteen?! That’s it?”

“We have, um, a discount going on right now... For handsome travelers.”

Why would I say that? Oh my god, why would I say that!? your cheeks started to rapidly heat up and you shuffled your feet nervously.

Your heart started beating faster against your chest when Marco responded, “How sweet. Take this as a tip then.”

He had a devilishly handsome smile on his face, and you looked at the money he was handing you. “Oh fifty is way too much- I can’t accept that, that’s more than the two baskets would normally be anyway.”

“Well, this is what I always tip beautiful girls.”

You laughed, trying to ignore the rising temperature of your face. 

How embarrassing to be this easily flustered. 

He smiled at you, clearly enjoying himself. 

“C’mon, I insist,” he closed your hand around the money and gently guided your hand back toward your chest. 

You pouted, feeling guilty that he gave you so much money.

“You’re sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pirate,” he said, “There’s a lot more where this came from.”

His voice was full of confidence but he was so relaxed. 

It made your stomach twist.

The way he carried himself- you could tell he was dangerous, but he was so laid back. 

“A pirate?”

He nodded.

You put the money away, and played with the ends of your braids, unsure of what to say to him. 

He bent down, one arm on each side of you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you stood frozen still.

He picked up the baskets, one in each hand, from your sides.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day here, I’m afraid I have to report back soon.”

You nodded, sheepishly looking down at the floor. 

He smiled at you again, winking this time. 

He turned and started walking back toward the entrance.

You knew you’d probably never see him again and a kind of unknown anxiety made its way to your chest. 

“Wait!” you called out, running after him.

He turned around.

“Will... Will I see you again?”

This time a less nonchalant smile spread across the Commander’s face. 

“Oh, absolutely,” he teased, “I’ve got wanted posters in every town from here to North Blue.”

You pouted again.

So cute! Marco thought to himself.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can work something out.”

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Marco,” he answered, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face.”

You smiled. 

He couldn’t help but stare. 

It suddenly dawned on Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, that he was positively, undoubtedly fucked. 

You stood in front of him, waiting for him to say something else. 

“You’ll see me again,” he said, this time with unwavering certainty,

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6. Don’t make plans for the next morning.”

[blues824]

Azul, Trey, Jamil and Rollo (if you write for him ofc, replace him with Rook if you don't) getting a beautifully decorated cake from their s/o as a gift for a job well done because they're jelly that she bakes cakes for the first years whenever they get something done right?

Here's an example (https://img.freepik.com/premium-photo/beautiful-wedding-cake-newlyweds-wedding-nautical-style-birthday-cake-banquet_199620-8510.jpg?w=2000)

Female Reader, as per request. IMAGES ARE NOT MINE. I FOUND THEM ON PINTEREST. Also, why not throw in Rook as well?

Trey Clover

Cake that you give him:

He has seen you give Ace and Deuce beautifully made cakes after every overblot as a thank you for their help, and he couldn’t help but be at least a little jealous because he’s the one who had to deal with Riddle way before them.

What was worse was that you had been declining every single invitation of his to go hang out somewhere. He knew that as the Prefect who had to deal with everyone’s problems that you were probably very busy, but he was missing his beloved.

One day, he received a text from you telling him to come over, and he all but ran to your dormitory. He was not about to pass this up, even if Riddle told him not to. He got to your front door within ten minutes, and when you opened the door he pulled you into a hug. He just missed you so freaking much.

You led him over to the counter while apologizing for never making time for him. You revealed a very whimsical and odd cake, and you told him that you were making this for him as both an apology and a thank you. His heart melted at the gesture, and he took the slice that you cut out for him. 

He took a piece on a fork and held it to your mouth for you to take a bite. He laughed at your shocked face, thinking you were just too adorable. You decided to get payback by smearing some cake on his cheek and licking it off, leaving him flustered in return.

Azul Ashengrotto 

Cake that you give him:

He was definitely jealous that his girlfriend was giving beautifully decorated cakes to the first years of all people. Everyday, he balanced schoolwork with running a Lounge, so he should be more than deserving of a cake. 

He grew to be so pouty around you that you could mistake him for either of the tweels. He was acting very immature, but you found it adorable. He was very clingy, and you thought that if he were in his merform he would probably cling to you with all of his tentacles.

Then there was one fateful day. You asked if he could come over to Ramshackle because you had a surprise for him, and he told Jade to watch out for the Lounge as he needed to go somewhere. He didn’t bother to specify where he was going, as he would be subject to torturous teasing.

When you had opened the door, you had let him in and led him to the kitchen, where an ocean-themed cake sat upon the counter. You explained that you made a cake for him because you noticed how hard he’s been working and that he deserved a cake that reminded you of the tie between the two of you. The cake was of the shore, which connected the land and the sea: you and him, respectively.

He almost didn’t want to eat it because it was so beautiful, but he started with the seashells which were made of chocolate, painted to look like they were real. The effort you put into this singular cake almost made the cecaelia tear up as he laid his head on your shoulder, finally feeling appreciated.

Jamil Viper

Cake that you made him:

He has seen you being tagged on posts of the first years that contained pictures of cakes that you had made. Each was elaborately decorated, and you were usually in the comments telling them good job and thank you for assisting in the overblots. Sure, Jamil felt bad for being one cause of stress for you, but surely you must have forgiven him by now… right?

Maybe it was because he was busy all the time? He thought you understood that as a servant of Kalim and the Vice Housewarden of Scarabia when he asked you to be his girlfriend, so that couldn’t be it. One of his dorm members pointed out that he was about to burn the curry.

Then, he got a text from you telling him to go over to Ramshackle. He told one of the other members to take over for dinner and that something came up as he made his way to your dorm. Eventually, he found himself already at your door and ringing the doorbell.

The second you opened the door, he hugged you out of fear that you were breaking up with him. He knows that he hasn’t been there for you recently, but you wouldn’t break up with him, right? You gave him a kiss on the cheek and you had a smile on your face, so it looked promising. You led him into the kitchen and showed him your surprise. It was a red cake with gold designs.

You made this for him? To tell him good job? He had to repay you for making such an elaborate cake. What was your favorite food? He would make it for you in return. You spent so much time on this dessert just for him, and he couldn’t go without making sure you felt appreciated as well.

Rook Hunt

Cake you give him:

The cake that you gave to Epel was one to cause envy around the entirety of the dorm, and the first year made sure that no one was given a single slice. Not even the baker’s significant other, the hunter himself. He wasn’t one to get jealous easily, but seeing the dessert that you probably spent hours on given to the first year was enough to tip him over the edge.

He tried to spend more time with you. He put a lot more effort into your relationship, his academics, being the Vice Housewarden, his archery, so that you might notice how hard he is working. If only he knew that you had noticed and were actively making a cake for him as a surprise.

At his usual archery spot, he noticed a note on his target. He read it and it was you asking him to come over, and he was more than happy to go. He was about skipping and dancing around to Ramshackle. His beloved Y/N asked him to go over~

When he reached the run-down dormitory building, he smoothed his clothes and hair before ringing the doorbell, and upon you opening he dipped you down into a passionate kiss that left you out of air. He pulled you up, and you took his hand to lead him to the kitchen.

There, he laid his eyes upon the most beautiful cake he has ever seen, based off of the Fairest Queen. Oh, his darling Y/N made it all for him? He’s so honored. You even cut the first piece for him, but he thinks you should have the first bite. So, he held the piece of cake on his fork up to your mouth. You didn’t eat much of the cake because he was too busy tasting the flavor upon your lips.

Rollo Flamm

Cake you give him:

He has seen the cake you designed for the masquerade ball, and he was impressed that a magicless human had that sort of skill. He asked you about it, and you had said that you make cakes like this all the time for when your friends do a particularly good job. Now, he was a bit jealous, and he didn’t even know you that well.

Now, Rollo wasn’t jealous of the cake. He was jealous that you spent enough time with the first years to know when they did a good job. So, he resolved to get to know you better, and he made sure to get all the student council work done before doing so. 

Then, he saw a note at his locker. You were inviting him to a local bakery that you were volunteering at for the Festival of Flowers. He made it there, and you had a smile on your face as you took his hands into yours and led him to the back. The sudden physical contact made him blush so hard.

There, he saw a cake that you made. It was of a carousel, and a very elegant one at that. He was shocked that you made that in such a short amount of time, and with all of the detail you put into it as well! Oh, it was all for him? Well, if that was the case, it would only be right of him to both cut and serve you the first slice, ‘as was the custom’. It really wasn’t, he just felt as though you deserved to taste the fruit of your labor first. You made his heart swoon in ways he never thought it would. If only you weren’t returning home so soon…

[angelgarden-posts]

Hi! I hope you having a lovely day~ as requested are open can i request headcanon for yandere Leona where he is obsessed with y/n but later found out y/n is girl. Like y/n is unaware that someone know her secret now. ( You can make changes in this as you feel)

Hi, I’m having a great day and I hope you are/did as well!! I kind of went overboard and turned these headcanons into a mini-oneshot/drabble, so skip to the end to get to the more possessive behavior~ (also, I don’t feel like I made it yandere enough, so if you want to request this again, please feel free to!!) Actually I might already have ideas on redoing this if I have the motivation in the future!

Yandere Leona Finding Out Y/N is Female

TW/CW: possessive behavior, mentions of violence, slight suggestiveness (I think??? Leona finds y/n’s bra and steals it), more possessive than obsessive tbh, sorry 😭😭

Leona is surprised, tries playing it cool.

However, now that he knows that you’re a girl, it becomes hard for him to control his emotions and behavior.

Because lions are territorial and do not usually interact with other males if they are in packs, he felt it was more taboo and suspicious if he hung around you often when he thought you were both male.

At that time however, he still couldn’t help but be drawn to you, as you were the school’s anomaly and couldn’t stop getting into trouble because of Ace and Deuce. He initiated contact with you to keep you from hanging around those buffoons from the Heartslabyul dorm. He didn’t want to see you around anyone other than him.

You two had quickly grown close, as you continually tried motivating him to do work while straining to keep your own motivation high, and ended up taking on Ruggie’s job in the process.

One day, you were back at Ramshackle because you had to check in periodically to make sure that your living quarters were pristine, and Leona just so happened to stalk follow you there.

As he entered the place, he made sure not to draw attention to himself as you were busy berating Grim, and slipped into your room.

Leona looked around, and an article of clothing caught his attention.

A bra laid on your unkempt bed, and his eyes widened until they were as big as saucers.

Just then, his ears swiveled to the door as your footsteps approached the room.

His momentary panic sent him scrambling underneath your bed, as the windows were shut and his only other exit was blocked by you.

There was a thud and the mattress above his head bounced.

You muttered something under your breath and after a couple, long, moments, your breathing had slowed.

Deciding that it was probably safe to emerge, Leona cautiously crept out from under your bed and bolted out of Ramshackle dorm as quietly and quickly as he could. Definitely not holding a new piece of clothing in his hands.

After that incident, his possessiveness flares even at the slightest contact he witnesses between you and the other students.

He’s constantly making up excuses for you to spend your time with him at the botanical garden and the Savannaclaw dorm.

If you choose to ignore him for someone else, that person will end up in the infirmary one way or another, either with him enjoying torturing the poor fellow, or Ruggie dishing out the dirty work for his boss.

You seemed the same as ever, but now that he knows the truth, he can’t see you in the same light.

When he sleeps near you, he always subconsciously grabs a hold of you and his muscle mass really doesn’t make it possible for you to escape his grasp until he wakes up hours later.

Leona frequently rubs his head and neck on yours, as he considers you his territory and one of his females, so he deems it important to never let you out of his sight.

Be prepared to always have to be at his beck and call, especially because his frustration due to his brother’s privileges makes him think that if there’s anything in the world he deserves now, it’s you.

[doriansredroses]

I’m still upset about what my mom said. It really hurt. She clearly just wants me to make friends but she should’ve been nicer about it. I’ve shortened my tbr list to nine books. The old list had twenty or so. Most of the books are actually recommendations from my peers. Only about three of them are my own choices. I feel like I’m carving off pieces of myself just to fit in. I’m the ugly stepsister cutting off her toes and heels to fit in the glass slippers meant to be twenty first century society.

What hurts most is that I’m not allowed to indulge in what makes me happiest. I don’t even think I’m able to watch the shows that are tailored to my interests because they weren’t recommended to me. My mom has been begging me to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I do want to but it’s challenging to put down a book and the show is seven seasons long, which is too long as of now. She’s also been recommending Bridgerton because it’s a popular and current show, and because I like Jane Austen. I’ve told her that I don’t want to because of how spicy it is and that makes me uncomfortable. She’s insisting I give it a try despite my asexuality. When I came out to her a few years ago, she didn’t even know what I was talking about and probably forgot I’m ace. I feel like I need to force myself to watch it to please her and to gain friends. I know I’ll hate it because of the extreme nudity, sex scenes, intense romance, atrocious costuming that’s not historically accurate at all, and more. The only thing I care about is that there’s a cute little corgi.

Those words ripped my soul. I don’t deserve to cut away who I really am to fit in. Today I wore one of my cute Disney purses and was told it was super cute and that they loved it so much. See, I want to be allowed to be quirky. I just feel so guilty for reading. My mom has shunned my other interests except reading (until now) because she deemed me too weird for writing fanfic, having crushes on fictional characters, and she hates a lot of my fandoms. She was really upset with me last year for watching the Barbie movies of my childhood and thought I was cringe for that. I asked for a Mr. Darcy shirt last Christmas and it was the only thing I didn’t get on my list. But when I asked for Disney stuff for my birthday, I got it all. Apparently Disney is a safe fandom because my mom likes it.

I just want to be myself and not have to hide. I’ve already been hiding my online presence for years because it’s not allowed in my household (except Facebook is okay but my life is too stupid for that) and if my mom found out what fandoms I expressed here, she’d kill me. I’m tired of hiding. I just want to be free. I’m not safe or happy anywhere now that I’m being chastised for reading and being a scholar.

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Round 2 Side A

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Deuce x Ace:

Have you read the novels? They’re gay your honor.

The classic captain/first mate combo. They even have matching names! Also if you have read “Ace’s Story” it’s clear how affectionately Deuce views Ace. ☀️

Stranded idiots to friends to lovers

They are very cute together!!!!

Deuce is from Novel A and my godd is he gay for Ace. They met on a small deserted island and at first Deuce didn't like him because he was in his angsty phase. He had just renounced his name, becoming nameless, but Ace wanted something to call him, so he started calling him Masked Deuce (because he wore a mask and so the names matched). Deuce didn’t like it at first and then suspected Ace was taking the few resources there were for himself. So then he picked up a stick, intent on killing Ace when he found him with a fruit, but he was so weak that when Ace turned around he went "cool stick!" and simply yanked it from him, Deuce deflated. And that's when Ace realized he'd been trying to kill him, but he didn't panic. It was a bit awkward but he decided to share the fruit between them. A half for Ace a half for Deuce. Ace took the first bite and then the other did as well. It was horrible, and yet delicious for the simple fact Deuce had been starving. It was of course the Mera Mera no Mi. After that moment, they became much closer and Deuce's perception of the other completely changed. He became infinitely loyal to him. He kept the name. They worked together and when finally being able to leave the island, he remarks it suck they couldn't even find any treasure, and Ace turns around, looks directly at him, and says "I wouldn't be too sure about that" with a smile. They deserve to be in this competition. They're just...

Novel A is the propaganda, they're so gay for each other. Deuce talks about how lucky he is to be dedicating his life to Ace and Ace calls Deuce the treasure he found on Sixis.

I decided to read the Ace book and I thought everything was exaggerating about Deuce and Ace being gay. And wow was I wrong they were not. When Deuce says Ace didn’t find a treasure on the island Ace was like “yeah I did ur coming with me right” then Deuce goes off on a whole internal tangent about how he will stay by Ace’s side. They also almost have a Ferris wheel date because Ace sees Deuce looking at the Sabaody Ferris wheel and when he finds out he’s never been on one they go on but this off duty marine girl ruins their date :(

It's that first mate devotion. It's the matching names. It's all the poetic waxing Deuce does when writing about Ace.

They are amazing and so underrated.

Propaganda for Usopp x Kaya:

When we first meet them and see them interact they just act so sweet. There's also a chapter in one of the novels where a guy interested in Kaya asks the old Usopp pirates "what kind of guy does she like?" And all 3 reply "Captain Usopp." Which I think is very cute!

He wanted her to laugh! Help her when she lost her parents because he knew exactly what it felt like! He helped her get better! And she was so heartbroken when it seemed like he was lying to her about Klahadore! Then she was more heartbroken when it turned out he'd told her the truth!

They will also be endgame trust me.

The ship that I would put money on becoming canon at the end of the series. It's very romantic how Usopp would come to see her every day, and how they are both still thinking of each other after so much time apart.

[reviewdiaries]

An ode to Ace’s heartbreak in 4x04

After the emotional sucker punch of last week, this week offered a much needed breather, and a time out for Nancy and Ace, particularly Ace who we barely see all episode. And whilst that makes sense because the story is at its heart Nancy’s, it also makes sense because of how Ace sees and treats himself.

We’ve seen before how Ace automatically assumes the worst about himself when it comes to Nancy. He thinks she couldn’t possibly want to be with someone like him who doesn’t have his life together, so he works to “fix” that in his eyes. He thinks it’s his fault for overstepping and trying to kiss her and that’s why she’s been avoiding him. He thinks only speaking three languages puts him at a disadvantage. So after last week where he categorically broke her heart, of course he’s going to assume she won’t ever want anything to do with him again.

GIF Credit @livelovecaliforniadreams

What would I say?

How could he say anything to her that could undo the damage he’s already done? Because now at last he understands. He didn’t get it before, not truly. The breathless want and anticipation eclipsed any of the horrors. And how could he really understand what it was like to lose the person he loved? Sure he sympathised with Nancy but he couldn’t conceive just giving up like that. Not until she wasn’t breathing in his arms. That moment of clarity, fear, desperation, was cold water on the joy - the certainty that they would overcome it. 

How long did it take him to decide they couldn’t try again? The moment she collapsed? When the paramedics were working on her? In the hospital waiting to hear if she would wake? The hours between her being discharged and him finally working himself up to go and see her and watch the hope die in her eyes? But once he’s decided, there’s no going back. Once he’s said those words, hurt her like that, there’s no undoing it. Ace has made his bed, and now, no matter how much it hurts, he’s committed to it. He cannot conceive of a world without her in it, so her not being in his world is his penance. Because he knows, despite all he says about going back to being friends, going back to before. Back, back, back, because he cannot see a way forward. They can’t go back. Not really. He can’t erase the feel of her lips, her pulse beating against his fingertips, the soft curves of her pressed against him as he pulls her in tight. Nancy is the one to say she can’t go back, but Ace is already there, no matter what he says.

GIF Credit @thatonekimgirl

But already his resolve is breaking. It was breaking the moment he turned away from her at Icarus Hall.

GIF Credit @thatonekimgirl

He knew looking at Nancy’s heartbreak, at the tears on her face that matched his own, that he had to leave before he undid it all and gathered her up in his arms. Because now the waters are muddied and he has no idea whether it’s himself or her he’s risking, and the uncertainty will kill him as surely as it might her. 

It fractures a little more whenever one of the others asks him for help and he knows it’s really Nancy asking. Every time he picks up his phone and looks at their last hopeful messages and doesn’t know what to say to her.

I miss you.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

GIF Credit  @livelovecaliforniadreams

He’s thrown himself back into work because if he doesn’t, he’ll drown. And he can’t stand the idea of leaning on their friends and taking that support from Nancy. Knows she’ll reject their help if she thinks she’s stepping on his ground. And she needs the support, no matter how much she might try to deny it. And it’s his fault they’re here, his fault she’s heartbroken - he thinks he deserves not to have all the same support she does. 

But even there he cannot stop helping, stop thinking, stop shifting the puzzle pieces in his head because that’s what they do, that’s what Nancy has taught him to do, and she’s still there in everything even if he won’t let himself physically be near her. Because puzzles are one of her love languages, and Ace still speaks it, still wants to offer up his support, his mind, his ability to piece things together. A peace offering, a love letter, a way to feel closer to her when he’s alone at his desk with nothing but the faint imprint of her lips on his and the gaping fissures of his heart.

[opbackgrounds]

Firstly - get better soon Sarc!! Secondly, a question - how about a rating of doctors/medical professionals in One Piece? Worst to best, and why =D

Worst to best, eh? Going to have to consult the wiki on this, but I’ll give it my best shot

Hogback: I considered putting him higher since he seems to be a competent surgeon—successfully transferring animal parts onto Absolom, among other things—but his utter disregard for ethics puts him at the bottom. Doc Q is a terrible human being, but he doesn’t claim to be advancing medical science. Plus, his supposed greatest feat isn’t even his own. Without Moriah’s devil fruit, Hogback’s “resurrections” don’t exist. He’s a fraud and a creep, -100/10

Doc Q: We haven’t seen him do much doctoring but considering his own health and that of his horse, I have my doubts. That, and handing out exploding apples and then blaming fate when they explode is generally regarded as bad practice. He’s caused much harm and brought no health, so -10/10

Hiliruk: An inspirational figure does not a good doctor make. Please don’t force feed children frog spawn in order to treat their broken bones 0/10

Dr. Blackbeard: we didn’t see his medical practice, but he seemed nice and probably didn’t deserve to be kicked in the head by an Emperor’s commander ???/10

Masked Deuce: I read both Ace novels and didn’t remember he was a doctor, but the wiki says he was a dropout with sucky grades so we’ll say 2/10

Aladine: Also did not remember he was a doctor, but unlike almost everyone else on this list he was sensitive to mental health issues. But without seeing him more in action I can’t give him higher than a 5/10

Nako: Don’t know much about him, but he gave Nami her tattoo and stitched up Zoro’s chest so 5/10 for being partially responsible in universe for two iconic character designs

Marco: Devil. Fruit. Hax. Seen more slapping on temporary (albeit effective) bandaid solutions than truly healing underlying conditions and hasn’t shown himself to be any great specialist or researcher 7/10

Crocus: He’s a doctor and a veterinarian, so he gets bonus points. Couldn’t heal Roger, but kept him alive for his last journey, and is a good enough engineer to hook Laboons stomach up with electric lighting without killing him 8/10

Kureha: If this were based purely on knowledge and expertise she’d win hands down, but we don’t see here treat the range of injuries and illness as some others, and her predatory business practices run the risk of causing real harm to her patients. Don’t through scalpels at your patients while robbing them blind. 10/10 doctor, -100/10 bedside manner

Law: Devil Fruit hax with legitimate medical genius is a dangerous combination in a man who literally steals hearts as a hobby. 10/10 doctor, but there’s a good chance he’ll just murder you instead

Chopper: Protagonist powers, and is the only upper tier doctor who is genuinely altruistic while conducting ground breaking research in the area of manipulating his devil fruit abilities with the power of SCIENCE. He was fifteen years old when he kept Zoro from dying at the end of Thriller Bark and reverse engineered viruses in the middle of a battle as the equivalent as a high school junior. 11/10 doctor, I will be forever mad that Oda never shows more off his efforts keeping these morons alive

Whitebeard’s nurses get a bonus shout out, because as great as he was as a person Edward Newgate was a shit patient and they all had to work in those ridiculous outfits. 15/10 for the lot of of them, I hope he at least paid well

[sashi-ya]

𝐖𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬! chapter 1079 review.

Where to start?

First; I’m so really sorry for Kid, Killer and the whole crew. Honestly, poor babies ☹ I hope, since it wasn’t shown, the sea saves them. (This is based on a little theory I have; sea decides who lives and who doesn’t. Mother Sea, didn’t let Luffy and Big Mom drown in Wano. How comes they were drowning and suddenly they appeared at the coast? Who saved them? Also, the sea didn’t let Ace die back when a storm hit his ship (he wasn’t a df user yet, but he got the mera mera from the sea) or what about on ennies lobby? Mugiwaras jumped to “the sea” with smiles on their faces)

Secondly, let me play devil’s advocate here; is not that Kidd deserved what happened to him, but, it’s natural to get backlash at your actions. If you are gonna go pick up a fight, or, you are going to try hurt other’s friends… well, prepare for them to react.

Some have said, and maybe it can seem like that at first, “this isn’t Oda’s writing” or “it lacks preparation” but honestly when you read it again, I believe we had plenty of clues and reasons to believe this could have been a possible outcome. Why? Well:

✦ Since the Reverie the world is AT CHAOS. We know that because it’s been said several times by plenty of people. You can even see how the CP0 kept constant communication with the rest of the GW and Marine to know how things were going outside Wano. It’s obvious that things will happen when the world is in disarray.

✦ The two times we saw Shanks fought, he acted the same way (and it is the lesson he gave to Luffy, that he has always kept in mind… especially when he met Blackbeard): he won’t fight unless it is strictly necessary and someone hurts/dares to hurt his friends. At Marineford, he arrived and told them “stop or get ready to get fucked with no mercy”. But the most important one for me; featured on the VERY FIRST CHAPTER OF ONE PIECE: the fight with the mountain bandits! he didn’t do anything when they hit their head with a damn bottle. But he did something when Luffy was in trouble. Also, they KILLED SOMEONE and stated WE AREN’T GOOD PEOPLE. We actively chose to ignore that fact, cause he’s been always “luffy’s dad” and he has always acted like a sweet man. HE ISN’T A SAINT.

✦ Now, going back to the fact that Lucky put a bullet on that mountain bandit’s head. What was the premise? “Don’t point guns unless you are ready to get killed”. It’s the exact same thing that happened to Kidd in here. Shanks saw with his INCREDIBLE observation Haki what Kidd was planning to do to his fleet and HE HAD to stop him. Now, is it ok to use SUCH strong attack? Well, idk, but he is strong, and Kid should have known better (even if he had a taste of his power when someone from his crew cut his arm off before. You know… “Arrogance destroys the footholds of victory”)

✦ The giants. Same as the point above; if you are willing to hurt their friends, you should be ready to face consequences. Also, those guys come from the war island… what do you expect? They spent 100 years fighting over stupid things while on Little Garden, do you really expected them not to react if their Island was in danger by a huge cannon? Well… I’m not blaming them either for their reaction.

What I am trying to say is that their actions went perfectly well with their characters. Shanks reaction isn’t new nor weird. The giants reaction is expected.

Hopefully Kid and Killer will be ok, but, don’t get surprised (and I swear to god this isn’t a slander) if they end up not making it. The fake -and sudden- illusion of Kid becoming as important as Luffy and Law on Wano was perfectly added to create even more impact for when Shanks finishes him. This is just an opinion. It’s not that I don’t love him, I do. The thing is that I started wondering myself WHY he was THAT relevant all of a sudden? Well…