#he's probably his first opponent let's just be real

[miru-has-thoughts]

Wait...oh my gosh

WILL JOE HENDRY DETHRONE ETHAN PAGE?!?!

[daddy-dotcom]

Bet on Me

Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader

Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.

Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?

----------------------------------------------

This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 

"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 

I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 

"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 

I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 

"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."

"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 

"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 

------------

"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 

"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 

"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"

"It's kind of my job." 

"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 

"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."

"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"

“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"

"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 

"Ah so you're a local too?"

“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 

“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 

“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 

I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 

“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 

“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 

My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 

“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 

I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”

“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.

“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 

“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 

“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 

“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 

“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 

At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 

———

"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 

"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 

"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 

"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 

"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 

I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 

"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 

"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 

He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 

"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 

"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."

I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 

"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 

“I-I don’t have a-," 

“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 

I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 

“Oh god, Spencer.” 

I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 

“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 

It’s always the skinny, shy guys.

“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 

“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 

His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.

“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.

“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 

“I’m all yours Spencer.” 

————————————————————————

Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [1/…]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“So, I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories,”

— Mitski, "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Canon Typical Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Buggy is an asshole, The reader used to go by "Cross-Hairs" in the past.

A/N: I’m basing this primarily on the LA! version of “One Piece”, as I’ve just recently begun to watch the Anime.

Luffy, for his unyielding devotion towards his dreams of becoming the King of Pirates, evidently lacks the sense of foresight required of a pirate to successfully navigate the seven seas. Then again, it's nothing new.

You’ve always known. The kid's been a hazard to society even in his youth; no filter between his brain and his mouth despite the ungodly amount of food he pushes between his jaws. You used to watch him make his proclamations in front of Shanks' merry band with little more than vaguely piqued interest, indifferent to the youthful albeit naive optimism he exhibited.

Shanks, meanwhile, always used to find his demeanor endearing - “He’s a good kid. Let him dream,”

And so you let him. You watched him dream for the next ten years, making sure that his dreams didn't catch the wrong kind of attention until he was old enough to hold his own weight.

However, back then, Luffy's actions seldom warranted any real consequences. Save for the incident with the Bandit and the Sea King, he's rarely been in any real danger prior to his debut as a pirate.

An unruly child spouting declarations of desiring to become the next “King of Pirates” hardly would’ve caused more of a ripple effect than to make other people shake their heads and laugh. And if it did, you were there to make sure it didn’t.

Now, not only has his actions earned you the ire of the Marines by stealing the Map of the Grand Line, but it has also garnered the attention of other opponents. Far more dangerous ones than the likes of Alvida or even that Axe-Hand Moron.

It was only a matter of time.

So when you find yourself waking up in a wooden cage with the rest of your reluctant crew mates, accompanied by a head-throbbing headache at that, your first instinct is to heave an exasperated sigh.

"Goddamn it."

"Oh, you're up." It's Luffy. He looks unharmed, albeit disoriented, not too unlike yourself. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just snorted a bottle of rum through my nostrils." You get up into a crouching position, eying your surroundings, which doesn't leave much up for inspection considering your cage consists of broad wide planks. "What the fuck happened?"

The last thing you recall before being knocked out was a Jolly Roger in the distance, too far away for you to make out properly. So, not Marines, but pirates.

You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

"Think we wouldn't have told you if we knew?" The swordsman - Zoro - replies with a deadpan look of boredom on his face as he attempts to peek through the cracks in your confinement. You have half a mind to tell him where to shove it but opt for a more quiet approach.

It's during moments like these when you realize you actually miss that scrawny pink-haired kid with the glasses - Koby. He never spoke to you like this. Granted, he was probably intimidated by the way you were always hovering behind Luffy like a silent guardian, but he didn't provide unnecessary comments like Bounty Hunter over there does.

Small blessings and all that. Very small.

You provide a solid kick to the plank on Zoro's right side without warning, catching him off-guard and earning you a short-lived glare. The planks loosen considerably, probably not meant to contain you for long.

Meanwhile, you listen half-heartedly to Luffy and Nami as they discuss the potential identities of your captors.

"They're not marines," Luffy assures her. "Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates."

You glance at him from over your shoulder. "What'd it look like?"

"I don't know, it looked ... like ..." he pauses in thought. "A skull with crossbones, and a red ... dot? It almost looked like a nose, if bones could have noses, but they don't."

The blood in your veins freezes up, as does the rest of your body until their voices blur into nothing.

You've been keeping occasional track of him in the years that's passed since you parted ways, and when he amounted to a considerable bounty on his head, his signature Jolly Roger was hard not to miss on his wanted posters.

-------

"I didn't know there were so many pirates."

You tilt your head at the wall decorated with various wanted posters of different pirates, some more torn and discoloured than others, some more dead than others. You can't find your own amongst them in Shells Town, but then again, it has been some time since last you were on the Marines' radar. More likely than not, your poster is hidden somewhere underneath the several layers of—

"Hey, there's yours!" Luffy damn-near exclaims in wonder and points at— Oh yeah, there it is, right above Foxy's poster, a little yellow around the edges but still holding strong.

WANTED Dead or Alive "Cross-Hairs" 25,000,000

"Oh, wow, a 25-million bounty. That's a lot of berries."

The image is well over a decade old, taken back in your early twenties, and you were much more easy to identify back then. You were sharper in some angles, softer in others, compared to the present.

You look different now. Less robust, a little older, but no less dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Your sharp eyes remain the same, a trait Gol D. used to remark upon with a mischievous glimmer in his own eyes.

"You have eyes sharp enough to cut through steele," he'd say and ruffle your hair. A sense of loss perforating your being at the memory.

Despite being in your thirties, age tends to alter the appearance of most people, and you consider that a pretty good advantage right about now as you're standing surrounded by an army of Marine officers. Given the fact that you've spent the last couple of years away from the sea without a trace or clue, the World Government probably assumes you've died or gone into hiding.

Be that as it may, they didn't even bother to decrease the bounty since last time. How odd.

While Luffy spends a few moments admiring your old picture like a child that just learned their relative is some kind of famous celebrity, Koby is less than enthralled by this revelation.

"T-That's one of the highest bounties in the East-Blue." He is hesitant to look up at you. "What did ... What did you do to earn it?"

"A little here, a little there. Kicked a few asses, stole a bit of treasure along the way. Nothing too bad." You admit with a half-assed shrug as you continue to inspect the various posters.

For the boy's peace of mind, you won't go into the less ... child-friendly details regarding your reputation. About the way you used to fight to the blood with most of your opponents, Marines and pirates in equal measure. How you'd stand victorious atop a pile of broken limbs and pleading sounds from the defeated crowd.

"Yeah, yeah ..." Koby agrees with a feeble nod. "There are way worse pirates on the Grand Line."

Your gaze happens upon a particular wanted poster, and your demeanor stiffens. Not enough to notice from an ordinary point of view, but it does nonetheless.

His sharp cerulean eyes and bright red nose seem to mock you from his picture, and a heavy feeling settles in your heart. A feeling of hurt and betrayal you've long since thought abandoned in the corners of your heart. Not even the loss of your old captain could hope to compare to it

You snap back to Luffy, your voice a little strained as you speak though you desperately try to cover it up. "Are we done here, Luffy?"

------

It's your fucking luck it had to be him of all people to come after Luffy first.

Why him?

Fuuuuuu—

"We don't need to fight." Luffy's voice snaps you back to the present. "I can talk to them, pirate to pirate."

"Not with this one," you whisper more to yourself than anyone else. The only one who seems to catch onto this is Zoro, but the moment he opens his mouth to ask, Nami beats him to it.

A discussion regarding the duality of piracy quickly causes you to lose all interest in the following sequence.

You don't trust either the thief or the bounty hunter as far as you can throw them, and the feeling is mutual in both parts. Sure, they proved useful in getting rid of the Axe-Hand, and have had thus far been tolerable enough for you not to throw them overboard.

Still, Zoro recognized you on the spot where the Marines failed to, and though Nami doesn't, your status as a pirate is enough reason for her to distrust you.

As mentioned, you don't trust them, but Luffy does, and his lead is the only one you'll follow. This is his voyage, and you’re not here to keep him from making mistakes unless you consider them particularly vital. If this bites him in the end, then you'll be there to keep him afloat.

After all, you made a promise to your old red-haired friend.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream."

With no patience left to wait to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, you prepare to kick through the planks. Just then, the top piece of your confinements unfold, and what you're greeted with is the pinpoint definiton of a fever dream on acid.

Tightrope walkers swinging in the air, acrobatics performing acts of impressive feats, someone fire-breathing, and-- was that a guy juggling on a unicycle passing you just now?

A circus troupe. You've been captured by a fucking circus troupe.

"Oh, what the actual fuck?" Is all you can manage to mutter, a sentiment Zoro surprisingly agrees with if the nod he adds serves as any indication.

The troupe has an audience, you come to observe in the distance. They're clapping and cheering on cue with the sign being held in the air, yet they look ... wrong. Forced. Puppets with strings embedded in their limbs, so to speak.

You narrow your eyes in distaste at the view. The hell has he been up to as of late?

In the midst of the enforced round of applause, a voice gradually makes itself more and more prominent through the masses. Deeper and huskier since last you heard it, but yet painfully known to your ears.

"No, no, no, NO! Stop clapping!"

And then he appears. The ringleader himself, exasperated as he throws his arms out to each side and effectively silencing the crowd.

"No, stop! This is all wrong!"

You momentarily forget to breathe as you watch him come into view from behind the audience. He's taller than the last you saw him, that's for damn certain. Must've hit a second growth spurt in your absence because, while you were relatively on equal foot in your youth, he now seems to have grown a head or so taller than yourself.

And like yourself, he's changed, and not inherently for the better. It's a relative statement considering that the life of a pirate is oftentimes a hard one, but it's a fact nonetheless. The years have not been any kinder to him than they've been for yourself. He still has the same hair, the same general appearance, but he's changed.

Out of the three of you, Shanks seems to have had it the easiest in recent years, appearance-wise. He never lost his smile or affinity for the brighter things in life, even when he had his damn arm chewed off.

Meanwhile, you lost your dreams, and he seems to have lost everything you recognized about him in your youth. His smile, his laughter, and even his stance had been replaced by some replica that fails to hold a candle to the original one.

This is a show master, not your friend. Then again, you haven't been friends for a long time now.

Still, changed as he may be from an outward point of view, Buggy's eyes have not. They're clear like the seas, just as they were long ago. (And his nose, of course. How could you forget?).

You can't tell if that's a relief yet.

You're not a fearful person by nature, having lost the distinct ability years ago. Now, however, you feel the tremors vibrating through your ribcage at the sight of him. That's why you decide to turn your face slightly to the side for now, hoping to prolong the inevitable.

Fortunately, your presence evades Buggy's notice for just a while longer as he berates his crew. "The spotlight was late! You completely missed my entrance!"

The sound of said spotlight changing its focus can be heard.

"And where, oh where, was the dancing lion?"

Good! While he's occupied, maybe you can find the right moment to grab Luffy and get the hell--

"Hey! I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!"

... You want to dig a hole in the sand and bury yourself right about now.

"You're the clown guy! Uhm ... Binky, right?"

Buggy, you scream inside as you suppress the urge to yank Luffy by the shoulders and shake him until all of his limbs drop down on the ground. Fuck Shanks and fuck the promise. He's Buggy the fucking Clown, and you did not have to go out of your way to pinpoint that fact!

In your internal state of dismay, you settle with trying to locate potential escape routes. Maybe a hole in the walls of the tent, or an absent-minded guard by the entrance. You're stronger than most, with years of experience behind you, but you're not capable of fighting your way through a crowd with three tagalongs so seamlessly.

"Buggy," the man of the hour states as he approaches, still having failed to notice you. "Buggy the Clown."

No one says anything, which he takes as a sign to continue on with - what you personally regard - as a moronic long line of titles.

"Buggy, the Flashy Fool." Still nothing. He raises his arms, like a lost puppy begging for scraps of recognition. "Buggy, the Genius Jester."

Seriously, what's with him and all the names? He’s always been … overdramatic, but this cuts the cake even for him.

"Wow," Luffy seems genuinely impressed, a stark contrast to his companions, who would rather be anywhere than here. "You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are."

A range of gasps echo from the unwilling audience, and you finally snap your head to the front in alarm. Fuck, he couldn't have used a better word than that. Granted, Luffy didn't mean it in that context, or even that word, but it doesn't matter.

Another thing that hasn't changed about Buggy... And that very same thing might as well be what snaps him out of his theatric act.

You thought Buggy finally would've noticed you by now, seeing it as you're finally willing to face him, but his eyes remain eerily glued to the kid.

"What did you just say?" Buggy asks, calmly.

Way too calmly for your liking.

Oh, no.

Luffy blinks in confusion. "Just that everyone knows who you are?"

You notice the clown lunging before Luffy does.

In the span of a second, you plant yourself between them, the only barrier between him and the clown's rage. You don't move an inch even as Buggy closes in with his gloved hand outstretched towards the boy, having not yet registered your sudden appearance until his fingers are inches from your face.

Your eyes finally lock, the blue in his eyes more prominent now than ever. Almost two decades since the last time you saw each other, and Buggy ceases his attempted assault as though time itself freezes.

At first, there is nothing in his eyes but surprise. Anger. Maybe even a trace of admiration towards the one who dared stand against him. Hot and burning beneath his irises, like glowing embers left behind in a dying pyre.

Finally, there is recognition, and the fire reignites warmer and scorching more than ever before.

He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you, but the glare in your eyes conveys the message loudly enough that even the performers and troupe members alike know not to interfere.

"Leave him be."

You think of what to say, what you can say, after years of being silent. A simple “Hi” will not suffice, and considering the way of which you parted, there is little room for confessions.

Then, Buggy begins to laugh.

It starts out as a whisper of a chuckle, then gradually develops until he's full-out holding his stomach in wheezes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and smudging his make-up.

He points his arm up as he tries to contain himself, and the guy holding the APPLAUSE-sign picks up on the subliminal message. Everyone in the place begins to laugh, both the captives and the captors, so loudly this time that it makes you feel small in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You glance cautiously around yourself, sharing brief looks with your companions before the noises abruptly stop, having most likely been forced to do so.

When you look back at Buggy again, he's smiling wider than ever, but his eyes hold no genuine humor. No, there's an unidentifiable emotion swirling in the depths of his blue eyes that you fail to decipher before he speaks.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this an unexpected surprise?" He raises his arm to gesture to you, as if you're an exotic exhibition behind a display case for everyone to behold. The spotlight is now aimed at you, momentarily blinding your vision.

"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my honor to present to you, the one and only, the myth, the legendary 'Cross-Hairs'! The Beast of the East!"

Applause rings again in the air as Buggy continues.

"She was famous throughout all of East Blue for her many endeavors, with a bounty greater than even yours flashy truly." Admitting that fact looks like it physically hurt him, but he prevails. "And then, almost ten years ago, after her biggest heist yet, she just POOFS!" He snaps his fingers and lets them slowly decline for dramatic effect. "Vanishes out of the blue. Leaving the seas for an unforeseen amount of time."

It would seem like you were keeping track of each other all along.

The next words Buggy utters are so hushed that only you hear them, and his smile is gone.

"Then again, you do have a track-record of leaving things behind, haven’t you?"

Oh, the fucking nerve of this guy. You take a step forward, clenching and unclenching you jaw so much your teeth feel on the bring of cracking. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

You’re about to shout back at him, argue, throwing every caution to the wind just to correct him and scream:

("You're the one who left me, remember?")

Before you can, something taps your right shoulder. Thinking it's Luffy, you turn around, and the last thing you recall before it all fades to black is an air of red dust clouding your vision.

[sunlightmurdock]

you don’t have to be a star | bob floyd

hey, hey, hey lover, I love you just the way you are.

in which after being outshone by his colleagues, Bob takes a moment of reflection with his soon-to-be wife before bed. For @ohtobeleah’s Galentine's Day Special <3

warnings: Bob being a little insecure, Jake being a little shit, kissing and allusions to sex. Adults cuddling and touching each other, nothing that isn’t PG-13. WC: 2.1k

…

Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin is a force of nature, and has been for as long as anyone can remember. For some, he’s intolerable. For others, he’s irresistible. People rarely fall in the middle when it comes to their alignment with Hangman — devotion or despisement.

For you, he’s someone that you will always be indebted to. If it wasn’t for Jake, you would have never met the love of your life.

Two summers ago, you had been at a small gathering for a friend’s party in one of the bars in the Coronado Beach area, and apparently you had caught the eye of the troublesome blonde.

You hadn’t noticed him feigning for your attention with his steely green gaze, or talking about you coolly with his buddies. No, your first experience with Jake was him sauntering up to you, leaning one elbow against the bar and hitting you with a sloped grin. “How’s your night treating ya, sweetheart?”

But, if it wasn’t for Jake Seresin trying his hardest to get into your pants that one night in August, you never would have met Bob.

You would later learn that other people didn’t have quite the same problem you did. As Jake had swept you over to his corner of the bar for a game of pool that he was hoping would lead to much more, you just couldn’t help but notice the man sitting by the window.

His hand curled around a root beer bottle, thin wire-rimmed glasses sitting across the bridge of his nose, and a single chestnut coloured curl dangling onto his forehead.

The routine way he would roll those pretty, Disney-blue eyes, and scoff against his root beer at each smooth line that had rolled off of Jake Seresin’s tongue. Just like you, he knew Jake’s game, and didn’t find it a particularly engaging one to play.

Long after the sun had set and right about the time last orders were called, Jake still hadn’t seemed to give up on the idea of taking you home — and he was being nice about it — but your mind had been made up a long time before.

You had just sunk the eight-ball, and Jake was calling for a rematch. Your lips had just quirked softly, hoping that he would take the hint after this one. “I think I’d rather look for a more worthy opponent.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake had grinned to you, heavily amused by the idea of there being anyone in this bar more worthy than himself. “Like who?”

Bob remembers bashfully how you had turned to him, cocked your head and smiled. God — he probably looked like such an idiot, all shocked like that. He could have been so much cooler, could have answered faster when you had asked,

“How about you?”

But the sheepish nod he had given you seemed to do the trick. He left that evening with your phone number, and now, two years later, he’s wandering through your house in his socks calling your name.

“Damn,” You pop out from the closet a few paces behind him, making him flinch and suck in a sharp breath. “The government name? — What’d I do to deserve that?”

He softens into a smile as he turns around and reaches out for you. Happily, you step out from the closet and let him wrap his arms loosely around your waist.

“Well, the first twenty times I called, you didn’t answer, so,” He leans in real slow, tilting his head to the left and pecks softly at your lips. “Figured I’d try something new, honey.”

“Right, well,” A smile tugs at your lips as you reach up to wipe the transferred lip gloss from his mouth. “What can I help you with, Mr. Floyd?”

Not long now until he gets to call you by that name too. By the end of the year, you’ll be Mrs. Floyd and he still can’t quite believe that he’s so lucky.

“Can’t… figure out this damn thing, d’you think maybe you could help me?” He asks, gesturing down to the unfastened black bow tie around his neck. It makes you smile wider.

All of the wonderful, incredible things that Bob Floyd can do, and he just can’t figure out a bow tie.

“Sure thing, handsome,” You tell him, hands already getting to work with evening out the sides around his collar. “If you’ll reach up on that top shelf in there and grab my shoes once I’m done.”

Ah, so that’s why you were hiding in the closet. Bob hums. “Sounds like a fair deal.”

As you fasten the black silk into a uniformed bow, Bob glances down at your dress, and then back up to study your face. “You look beautiful.”

“Yeah.” You answer playfully, plucking at the bow to test its sturdiness, and dipping in for another kiss. Firm and longing — giving you an idea of exactly how he’s planning to start getting you out of that dress later tonight.

Tonight is Bradley Bradshaw’s thirty-sixth birthday party, organized by his wife. She pulled out all the stops and required a black-tie dress code. Her events are always good fun and tonight is no different.

A buzzing garden party with string lights and music — some of it provided by Rooster himself. Photos of Bradley through his adulthood and adolescence are strung up around the party, reminders of how loved he is by the people around him.

It’s an incredible night. You have a blast, laughing and dancing with the people you have grown to love over the course of your relationship with Bob.

But, on the drive home, you can’t help but notice that something seems to have rattled your soon-to-be husband. He’s quiet in the car. Once you’re home, he sulks inside and kicks his shoes off in the hall, shaking off his bow tie and heading straight for the bedroom.

Curious, you follow behind him with furrowed brows.

“Hold it right there, mister.” You tease him, making him stop in his tracks. You follow him into the dark bedroom, crossing over the carpeted floor and positioning yourself right in front of him. There’s a stern look on your face, peering up at him.

“Robert Floyd, are you bored of my company or something?”

He scoffs weakly, fingers curling around your waist, then tugging you into him. He nuzzles the tip of his nose into your hair and revels in the smell of your shampoo.

“Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd, baby.” He reminds you. You jab him playfully in the ribs and he chuckles under his breath. “‘M just tired, is all.”

It’s not the truth. Really, Bob has known throughout your relationship with him that you could have done better. Jake wasn’t the only guy after you the night that you met.

Sometimes, it just plays on his mind that maybe you settled when it came to choosing him.

Especially on nights where Hangman shows up in the honeymoon phase with some new girl and makes that everyone else’s business. This wasn’t the first girl he has dangled under your nose, reminding you of what you could have had — playfully, of course. To Jake, it’s all good fun.

To Bob, it’s something different.

You squint up at him dubiously, then reach forwards and untuck his shirt from his pants. His gaze falls, watching you start to unbutton it for him.

“That’s it?” You prompt him, smoothing your palms across his bare stomach and up his chest, pushing his open shirt back off of his shoulders. He curls his fingers into the material of your dress, quiet. Your lips press softly to his clavicle, dragging down the warm skin of his pec.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

“Just… wonder if I’m enough sometimes, I guess.” He rushes out with closed eyes and a firm hold on you, like you could be gone when he opened them again if he couldn’t feel you.

Eyes open, you pull away from his chest and look at him.

“Enough?”

His cheeks grow hot. He starts to bite at his lip, his eyes shifting to the carpet. He’s always messing up with what he says. There’s always a better way to say it, and he never realizes until after.

You can see his brain working away, battling itself as he criticizes his behaviour.

“I’m not — showy.” He stumbles for the words and sighs, leaning his head back. “Sorry. I’m just trying to say… I’m trying to say that I’m sorry that I’m not the kind of guy to sweep you off your feet in front of everyone.”

Oh. This is about Jake. Jake showing off on the dance floor with his new girlfriend, throwing her around like she was weightless and kissing her like he was about to fuck her right then and there.

Your lips quirk at the idea.

He’s quiet as you lean in again, starting at the divet between his collarbones and kissing your way across his shoulder.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want to be swept off of my feet in front of everyone?” You ask him, pulling the leather of his belt from the buckle and unfastening it softly. Bob watches you, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“No, maybe not, but — y’know, you deserve to be… shown off like that.” He mumbles, letting you undress him. He steps out of his slacks and turns you around, gently pulling down the zipper of your dress.

As it hits the ground and you turn to face him once more, he’s surprised to find you smiling at him. Grinning, almost.

“What?” He whispers.

“Sit down, cowboy.” You answer, nodding towards the edge of the bed. He frowns, but complies, perching on the edge of your shared bed. You drape your arms across his shoulders and straddle his hips, humming as you kiss him.

“If I wanted to be Hangman’s trophy, I could have been,” You shrug calmly and your fiancé wrinkles his nose at the thought. “I don’t want anyone else.”

He swallows, letting his open palm flow along the length of your back and down onto your ass.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I want you with me, but I wish… I wish I was more, for you.” Your wedding has been playing on his mind a lot recently — an entire day where all eyes will be on the two of you. You deserve someone who will shine as much as you do.

Kissing his mouth, his jaw, then his temple, you squeeze your arms around his shoulders and rock yourself just slightly in his lap.

“Do you want to know why I said I would marry you, Bobby?” You ask him, stroking a curl back off of his forehead. His arms hook firm around your waist, turning you swiftly and planting his weight on top of you. Mm, he hums.

You smile softly as he leans in to kiss at your neck, tenderly stroking your hair out of the way.

“You’re wonderful, and kind and handsome,” Is a relatively strong starting point, but doesn’t do much to sway him. He keeps on kissing. “Animals love you, which I love. You let me sit on your lap when you play the drums, which is really hot. Your handiwork has saved me from almost electrocuting myself so many times.”

He chuckles against your chest; that one is true.

“You remembered my coffee order the first time that you heard it. You still get scared when I sneak up on you. You took the time to teach me about the things you love, and learn about the things I love.”

Bob glances up at you from your navel, pressing a soft kiss to your skin, his palms smoothing along your thighs.

“You’re the last person I think about at night, and the first person I think about in the morning,” You tell him, stroking your fingers tenderly through his curls. He sits up and covers your body with his once more, kissing your mouth. Inches from his face, you lift your palm and stroke your fingers across his cheek. “You’re funnier than anyone I know, and I love that our inside jokes are just ours. So much of our life is just ours.”

He nods his head, his nose brushing your cheek.

“Doesn’t all of that sound like enough?” You ask him.

He leans in for another kiss, soft and slow, rather than answering you.

“You don’t have to be like those guys for me to love you, Bobby,” You decide, secure in the decision and equally secure in the ring that sits on your finger. His lips quirk softly as your legs wrap around his waist. “All I want is the way that you love me, and understand me, and all of you — for the rest of my life.”

Smiling finally, he nudges the tip of his nose against yours and kisses you deeply, pressing you down into your shared bed.

“That sounds like a fair deal.”

…

[fleuraimer]

tw!!! messy, unhealthy family dynamic depicted.

started watching the bear and now i can’t stop thinking abt boxer!carmy, like southpaw but the bear.

next part.

boxer!carmy who started fighting because he watched rocky every day after school as a child (because kids can be quite cruel, can’t they? twinkling eyes and gummy smiles, expressive and vivid, raw, but that vast imagination is no stranger to destruction.)

small for his age, and maybe he liked the color pink more than the rest of the boys in his class, but mikey always said, ‘let it rip, kid. real men wear pink.’ as he wiped his little brother’s tears with the pad of his baby smooth thumb, so carmy never paid it much mind (not until his 10th birthday was coming up and his dad asked him what he wanted the theme of his party to be. he’d told him he didn’t care, “as long as it’s pink, and has cake.” he earned the first ass whoopin’ that left enough bruises for his teachers to notice. “fell off my trampoline,” he’d told them. the berzatto’s didn’t have a trampoline).

boxer!carmy who joins a local gym in 7th grade, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do with all this pent up, boiling angst, festering inside his body, running through the ichor of his being. mom was always screaming, dad was always drinking, sugar was always crying, mikey was never even there anymore…

the gloves cradled his hands the way a family should, hushed the tremble like a mother would to a child. calm.

the sand-bang took away his burdens the way a family could, carried the weight of his agony on boney, worn shoulders the way a father would for his son.

he beat on the bag until his sweat puddled at the floor beneath him, lights flickering as the owner (eddie, a bitter old man that took in “fuckin’ heathens” and gave them a place to call home) silently watched on from his place by the switches.

boxer!carmy who graduates high school, but doesn’t go to college, decides to focus on boxing instead. had already been going to the gym 4 times a week, but now, with school out of the way, he’s there almost every day. he prefers it this way, honestly, away from all the noise and calamity of his home life (can’t listen to another second of mom screaming about how she could have been someone if they hadn’t ruined her life. we could’ve been something, you hear me? and you all fucked it! can’t take sugar’s crying, sad little weeps that chip at his integrity. can’t watch mikey stumble in again, high off this that and the other and gone as fast as he came. can’t understand dad’s carelessness, more concerned with a bottle of bourbon and the ‘ball game than his own children). it’s nice there, anyway—with showers and a kitchen, he’s got all he needs.

he fights day and night, so often that sometimes it’s easier to just sleep there (and after the third time eddie stopped yelling at him about it so he thinks that maybe he might be warming up to him), curled up next to the heater with a blanket and a pillow he stole from mikey’s bedroom (he always had the fluffiest pillows. and besides, it’s not like he’d even fucking notice). he trains so hard and so long that by the end of what would’ve been his freshman year of college, he’s 62-0 in all his rookie matches from january to then.

boxer!carmy who, with his team of nacho (ignacio, a heavyset, easily sweaty sparring partner), benny (a skinny, white medic with frameless, 90s era specs, a hoop earring in his left ear, and a toothpick always in his mouth), and eddie, signs up to go pro, and by some fuckin’ miracle, he gets the headline event of the year.

pushes his ass to work harder than ever before, prove to himself (and mikey and sugar and mom and dad) that he is fucking doing something with his life, more than they ever had, and more than they ever will.

he knocks his opponent out in the 5th round, all teeth and bones intact. cries in eddie’s arms like a big baby, but for once, eddie doesn’t gripe. hell, he’s probably crying too, as he weakly tightens his hold around carmy, and hushes his incessant blubbering. i know, son, i know. y’did it. y’can rest now.

wipes his own eyes as he turns to face the crowd (let it rip, kid), fists pumped in the air in a show of triumph, victory, bittersweet in the absence of those who are meant to see his glory and realize, finally, he is someone, someone worthy of praise and some fucking apologies for all shit he’s been through.

boxer!carmy who fought his way in the ring, and fights every damn day for his spot on the floor. picks up a few more things than championship belts along the way. fractured fingers and broken noses, cracked ribs and misplaced shoulders, popped knees. none in vein, of course. oh, no—god, no—carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the beast—the bear—hadn’t lost a single match since entering the professional boxing league.

boxer!carmy who fights the heavyweight championship of the world, and fucking wins, just to find out later that night, after an evening of food, wine, sex, and celebration, that his older brother, michael ‘mikey’ berzatto, shot himself in the fucking head (let it rip, kid).

boxer!carmy who stops fighting after that. for a while (thinks about drinking and screaming the way mom and dad did to cope, but settles for short breathing and night terrors, instead). he doesn’t talk to the family, doesn’t pick up anyone’s phone calls (they hadn’t spoken in years (because he never picked up the fucking phone calls) and now suddenly because mikey’s dead everyone wants to fucking reconnect?), just comfortably sits in his big penthouse apartment, wallows and wonders on what could’ve been.

boxer!carmy who doesn’t touch a pair of boxing gloves for nearly 6 months, because what’s the point? but then, some little pussy decides to come and challenge carmy for his heavyweight title. he was in no mood, really. michael fucking died, he could kill somebody, for christ’s sake. but, even as a kid (the fuckin’ crybaby)—gettin’ picked on by his classmates for usin’ the pink chalk to draw on the pavement—carmy never really did know when to shut his fucking mouth.

he accepts the dickhead’s challenge, timothy grayson, after the second time he says some over the top, arrogant, macho white-trash bullshit on live fucking television (spews off some real intellect about never giving up fighting for anything or anyone, when he doesn’t even fucking know what happened. carmy’s fuckin’ angry, so angry he doesn’t notice the pretty broad beside him, not really, to busy picturing tommy’s or timmy’s or whatever the fuck his name is face beneath his fists).

boxer!carmy who sets up a pay-per-view fight against timmy boy to defend his heavyweight championship.

boxer!carmy who picks up his gloves again and feels the cradle and coo of a mother. fits the laces just right, finds his bag, and when he throws a right hook, feels his burdens being lifted from his back, protected and brave under the shield of a father.

this is who he is.

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto.

the beast.

the bear.

boxer!carmy who shows up to the pre fight weigh-in at his absolute best physical form, ready to fucking devour timothy on a silver platter.

boxer!carmy who goes up to on the stage after timmy—nacho, benny, and eddie by his side (plus the others accumulated along the years) thoughts calm over the roar of blasphemy being shouted at him. quitter! pussy! fuckin’ pansy bitch! (we could’ve been something, you hear me?)

he keeps his head down as he walks up the steps on the side of the stage, eddie’s hand settled on his right shoulder; grounding. and yet, as his eyes begin to lift from the ground beneath his feet, eddie’s grip on him doesn’t stop carmy from feeling like he’s floating 25 feet above the floor.

perfect, pointed, pink stilettos catch carmy’s eye, open toed with and big, chiffon-esque bow placed across the strap. his eyes trail higher.

deep, caramel skin, glinted in gold accents, fitting over knuckles and bangling from wrists. a mini skirt (shorter than usual, too short) to match the heels, and a skin tight, square neck top to accentuate a sharp, smooth collarbone. a couple stacked necklaces, some (unnecessary) cherry wine hued specs, and a sweet ribbon hanging from long, wistful curls, in that same damned pink.

his blue irises don’t stop fucking flitting around this unknown, ethereal figure until they land on a pair of rich, brown sugar eyes.

oh, jesus fuckin’ christ.

boxer!carmy who can’t keep his eyes off the pretty broad in pink for the rest of the show. he stands taller for her. flexes harder for her, puffs his chest with pride when his weight qualifies by a mile and a minute as the announcers read it from the scale. and the whole time, she’s lookin’ at him. fuckin timothy.

boxer!carmy who gets close to timmy when it’s time to showdown, closer than he has with anyone else. timmy’s yappin’, but it’s in one ear and out the other, nothin’ carmy ain’t heard before (could probably be considered kind in comparison).

he waits ‘til his trash talk subsides. until the silence he let bloom tangled with any single sliver of panic timmy might feel, and watches as it twists onto his ugly mug, brows furrowing. confused.

the corner of his lip lifts, and he holds timmy’s eye. “nice broad. pretty in pink, s’that your little girlfriend?” timmy’s stare hardens, but that deters carmy none. “quite the looker, shame she’s stuck next to your ugly fuckin’ mug—“

“keep her fuckin’ name out of you—“

“or what grayson? huh? can’t do shit now, can’t do shit after i whoop yo’ ass in the fight, and can’t do shit after y’pretty girlfriend dumps y’r s’rry ass because’a it.” nose to nose, breathing jagged, frustrated, a silence settles over them that speaks louder than any rebuttal timmy might’ve had.

carmy manages to press him further.

“i’m going to crush you, timmy. like a fuckin’ bug under my shoe. and after, i’m gonna take y’cute broad right over there back to my hotel suite, and fuck her like she wishes you could.”

boxer!carmy who walks off that stage with a bloody nose and a sore shoulder. but timmy left with a broken nose, an off set jaw, and crunched nuts.

he smiles as he stumbles down the stage steps, leaning into nacho and benny, a sense of dejà vu plaguing him as he recalls a shitfaced mikey falling through the doors of his childhood home (let it rip). but he’s swiftly pulled back into the real world when his eyes lock on a certain pair of wide, brown sugar, cherry red wine framed ones.

with a leaking nose and blood pooling at the seam of his lips, carmy grins, and shoots the pretty broad a wink.

———

a/n: can’t get him out of my head 🌚🧍🏽‍♀️

loosely edited/proofread!!

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 4.2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, bad pick-up lines

words: 3.6k

Summary: After Penny allowed you to open the bar for the few navy pilots, you hang with your group at the pool table since you weren't actually working and you challenge Hangman to a game of pool...

a/n: I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. It's probably one of my favorites. All the pick-up lines used in this chapter are courtesy of the instagram page of jimmyandnath. Check them out, they're really funny.

Link to my masterlist

“Who’s ready for the first round?”, you called out and everybody basically ran towards the counter. By now, you were used to those kinds of rushes, they didn’t scare you anymore. You collected their credit cards and opened the tabs before you placed a few bottles of beer on the counter and opened them in a row. Then you filled the glasses with the beer from the tap and handed out a few tumblers with Whiskey, Bourbon or Jack Daniels. Everybody spread out across the bar, someone put some money in the jukebox and filled the room with music. Counting yourself, there were 13 people in the bar but they managed to make it sound like thrice the amount.

Since you weren’t actually working tonight, you grabbed a beer and walked over to the pool table where your typical group of people had settled for now. It was nice to get the chance to sit down with them for a change. Normally you were working and didn’t have time for a real chat, only some small talk or, in Hangman’s case, a little back and forth of jokes and banter.

“Hey Y/N, up for a round of pool? We’re playing two against two”, Fanboy asked you. You found Hangman and Coyote on the other side of the table, revealing who your opponents were going to be. You always wanted to play against Hangman and this was your chance. “Sure”, you simply said and hopped off the bar stool at the wall. Bob handed you his cue as he walked past you and took your seat.

“I always see you play every time you’re in here. Let’s see how good you really are”, you challenged Hangman when you stepped up to the table. “Oh, I am good, I’m very good”, Hangman assured you.

You put the end of the cue down on the floor and it slipped from your hand. “Whoops”, you said in surprise and picked it back up. When you stood straight again, you caught Hangman and Coyote exchanging a look like it would be the easiest thing in the world to beat you at this game.

“How we’re gonna do this, Fanboy?”, you asked and tried again to lean on your cue. “Uhm, okay, we’re playing team against team, meaning every time it’s our turn we take turns playing the ball”, he explained to you and didn’t look so excited about forming a team with you anymore.

“And do we play with the fully colored ones or do we play all and just see who’s quicker?”, you asked and had trouble holding down your giggle. Even to your own ears you sounded stupid. “That is determined by the break”, he answered. “Who’s taking a break?”, you asked bluntly. “I mean when we shoot the first shot, we’ll see which we sink first and we play the rest of that color”, he explained and almost looked pained.

“Okay, then let’s go”, you said enthusiastically. Hangman had a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to start playing and wipe the floor with you.

“Wanna make it interesting? How about a little bet?”, Payback stepped forward. You looked at Hangman and he looked at you, challenging you with his eyes. “I don’t think we need to put a bet on it”, Fanboy chimed in, sounding nervous. “Alright. What do you suggest?”, you asked but looked at Hangman.

“When I win, you have to serve me every drink with a bow and a ‘here’s your drink, my master’ for a week”, Hangman suggested, his look dead on you. The fact that he used when and not if didn’t go unnoticed by you. You let your tongue run along the inside of your bottom lip as you contemplated.

“Okay. And if I win you have to work a shift at the Hard Deck, call me boss all night and literally do anything I tell you to. You’ll be pretty much my bitch”, you countered his bet.

You saw how his jaw stiffened, his teeth grinding and you had to bite down on the inside corners of your mouth to keep them from curling upwards.

He extended his hand and you took it. “The bet is on”, he almost grunted. His grip tightened around your hand. “Nervous?”, he asked, not letting go just yet. “Only about the many glasses you’re gonna drop during your shift”, you threw back at him with an equally low voice.

Coyote and Fanboy stood off to the side, exchanging looks and already regretting being your team mates.

“Alright, let’s do this”, you said, walked back to where you were first sitting, pushed your cue into Bob’s hands and took a sip of your beer. You used the hairband you had on your wrist to tie your hair back up into a ponytail. Meanwhile, Coyote set up the balls in the triangle on the other side of the table and after doing so, placed the plastic triangle on the little table behind him.

You took your cue back from Bob’s hands and walked back to the table. “Who’s starting us off?”, you asked in the round, looking at Fanboy, Coyote and then Hangman, who was smiling, confident of victory. “Ladies first”, he said and placed the cue ball on the marked spot on the table.

“I can take the first shot”, Fanboy came a step closer, whispering, looking as concerned as can be. “I got this, don’t worry”, you whispered back and winked at him.

“Gentlemen”, you announced with a loud voice, focusing everybody’s attention on you and you took the two steps to stand directly in front of the cue ball. “We’re playing 8-ball on a 9-foot-regulation table. I will start us off with the break”, you said, bent forward, aligned your cue with the cue ball and took the first shot.

You watched as the balls spread out on the table, a solid and a striped one disappeared in the pockets. “Table is open”, you announced and walked around the table to where the cue ball had landed and aimed your next shot. “Solids, number 2, right side pocket”, you announced your shot and after a second of aiming, you sank your next ball.

“Fanboy, you’re up”, you told him and looked up from the table. You found everybody looking at you with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Your face lit up with a confident smile.

“Wait, what?”, Fanboy called out and said what everybody was thinking. “What the hell just happened?”, Payback asked. “I played a lot of pool in my twenties”, you simply said and shrugged your shoulders.

“Why did you act like you haven’t seen a pool table from up close before?”, Coyote asked. “And miss out on the stupid looks on your faces? No way!”, you told him and shot a big smile at Hangman, who was suspiciously silent.

“Come on, Fanboy”, you called him again, nodding at the table to take his shot. He walked to where the cue ball had landed and started to aim at the number 5. “Take the 7, over the head rail”, you advised him and motioned the way the cue ball had to travel with your finger in the air. He breathed out loudly, indicating that that wasn’t an easy shot for him. “You got this”, you patted his back.

Fanboy took a beat to think about the shot. “Number 7, left side pocket”, he announced, aligned his cue and took the shot over the head rail like you had told him. The ball came a bit slow but he managed to sink it. “Yes!”, he called out and you high-fived.

It was your turn again. You grabbed the chalk and gently wiped it over the tip of your cue, holding the eye contact with Hangman, a sugary sweet smile on your face. You blew the dust off the cue tip, still looking at him. Only after that, you took a look at the table and decided on your next shot.

“Number 1, bottom right corner, over the long rail”, you announced the shot and executed it perfectly which earned you a few Ohs and Ahs from your little audience.

Fanboy was up again and despite his best efforts, he didn’t manage to sink the ball and now it was, finally, Hangman’s turn. “Okay, let’s get this over with”, he said, rolled his shoulders back and bent his neck to either side as he stepped towards the table.

“12, upper left”, he said and quickly sank the ball. You took a sip from your beer, not getting nervous. His cockiness will ultimately be his downfall, you could only hope that the time has come tonight. You did everything in your power to make that happen.

Hangman went on to immediately align his cue with the cue ball again. “Hey, it’s Coyote’s turn”, Rooster called out Hangman’s little cheat. Jake presented Rooster with a death-glare before he rose up again and took a step back. You and Fanboy exchanged a little smirk as Hangman seemed a bit nervous.

Coyote, sadly, couldn’t handle the pressure and missed his shot. “Come on, man”, Hangman called out in frustration. “Oh, is it me again?”, you asked with playful innocence and walked towards the table. You heard Rooster chuckling behind you.

The cue ball had landed on the opposite side of the table and you had to walk around to where Hangman was standing. “Excuse me”, you said and looked up at him from under your lashes. If you weren’t mistaking, you heard him growling at you before he reluctantly took a step to the side.

You scanned the table. For the solids, the numbers 4, 5 and 6 were left before you had to sink the 8-ball and would, ultimately, win the game and the bet with Hangman. But with how your balls were set on the table at the moment, every shot was tricky.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you went through the possible shots in your head, visualizing them. “Okay, number 6, left side pocket”, you announced and bent forward to place the cue on the edge of the table. “How?”, Phoenix asked confused as the cue ball was nowhere near placed for that shot to be possible in her eyes. You extended your arm and let the cue shoot forward, hitting the cue ball, which bounced off the opposite long rail from where you were standing, hitting the short rail and coming straight for the number 6, not only sinking the ball but also stopping in a perfect place for Fanboy’s next shot.

“Like this”, you said to her and stood up straight again. You turned to look at Hangman and said, “Geometry, baby!”, and shot him a sly grin. When playing pool, your cockiness could match his and you weren’t the slightest way sorry about that because you knew you were good at it. Hella good!

Fanboy sank the number 5 with ease and now only the number 4 was left. But it was an impossible shot and everybody saw it. And if you weren’t sure already, you only needed to take a look at Hangman’s face which lit up like a child’s face on Christmas morning.

“Okay, we all see it, I’m gonna say it. There’s no way I’ll sink that ball, but here goes”, you said. Since you knew it was about to be Hangman’s turn, you at least tried to place the cue ball as shitty as possible. He still had a lot of balls on the table though, so it wasn’t impossible to hit something.

“Oh, is it my turn again?”, he asked cheerful and came up to the table after taking a sip of his drink. “13, upper left”, he announced and sank it. “10, right side pocket”; Coyote stepped up and sank his ball too. Now they had finally found their flow and sank ball after ball. Your hopes of beating Hangman at something died little by little with every ball he and Coyote sank.

Hangman was about to sink his last ball before the 8-ball. “It was nice wiping the floor with you two”, he said with a slimy voice and bent forward to take his second to last shot.

He indeed sank the last ball but he also sank the cue ball and therefore immediately forfeited his turn to you.

Everybody gasped including you. The expression on Hangman’s face was a picture for the gods. “Oh my!”, you called out and hopped off your chair with big eyes. Fanboy still had to sink the number 4. It was a hard shot but not impossible. Like a real fighter pilot, he withstood the pressure and sank the ball.

Now, only the 8-ball was left on the table. They only thing you had to do was sink it and you could call sweet victory our own. You emptied your bottle of beer and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You stepped forward towards the table and stood next to Fanboy. Everybody’s eyes were glued to the table while you studied the placement of the ball and whispered to your team partner about the ways to sink it, all while swiping the chalk over the tip of your queue.

“Okay, how about you shoot the cue ball here, not too hard, have it hit the second diamond. Then it should go into the bottom right”, Fanboy suggested as he walked halfway around the table and placed his finger on the spot where he suggested for you to aim.

“Stop helping her”, Hangman called out, looking increasingly more nervous. “They’re on the same team, Bagman”, Phoenix said before she took a sip of her beer.

“Everybody shut up”, you said in a loud voice and bent over to take your shot. You aligned your cue and took a deep breath, focusing on the spot where Fanboy still had his finger placed.

You took another deep breath and when you exhaled, you pushed your cue forward and took your shot. It got really silent as everybody watched the white ball hit the spot at Fanboy’s finger than rolling back into your direction, hitting the 8-ball just enough to have it roll towards bottom right pocket. It moved slowly but consistently and your grip on your cue got tighter as you watched it for every long second until it finally fell into the pocket.

Hangman looked at the pocket in disbelief with big eyes and let his head hang in defeat.

“AHHHH!”, you screamed out in surprise that it actually worked just like the people around you. You threw the cue onto the table and ran towards Fanboy, who was coming at you equally excited and threw yourself into his arms. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we won”, you told him with big eyes as you pulled back at an arms-length. “It was all you, Y/N. That was amazing”, Fanboy congratulated you.

You felt hands on your shoulders that were squeezing and shaking you. When you looked over your shoulder you found Rooster looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He was just so happy that Hangman just got it handed to him. “That was awesome”, he congratulated you. “Thanks”, you said with a bright smile that you just couldn’t wipe off your face.

Your eyes fell on Hangman who was coming towards you. He extended his hand. “Congrats! I didn’t think you’re gonna make that shot”, he said as he shook your hand. “Are you gonna be a sore loser?”, you asked. “I don’t know, I haven’t lost until now so we’ll see”, he said and the cocky tone in his voice was back. That didn’t last long. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well, then I’ll make sure you don’t forget this moment so you get a LOT of practice”, you said and it sounded like a promise.

“Let’s raise our drinks to Y/N, the defeater of Bagman”, Phoenix called out and everybody raised their bottles and glasses to toast to you. Even Jake managed to grab his beer and give you a little toast while you smiled in the round and bathed in your victory.

A little later, everybody was sitting in little groups at the tables, the jukebox was playing in the background. You were sitting together with Fanboy, Payback, Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, Hangman and Coyote after handing out more drinks and somehow you had arrived on the topic of stupid pick-up lines.

“Are you my pinky toe? ‘Cause I bang you on the table seven times a day”, Fanboy said and some of the guys nodded, other’s laughed, you and Phoenix rolled your eyes.

“Is that a phone in your back pocket? ‘Cause that ass is calling me”, Coyote said. “I like that. That would work on me ‘cause my ass is great”, you said and clinked the neck of your bottle against Coyote’s. You must really be a bit drunk to just say stuff like that to everybody.

“Okay, I got one. Are you a shark? ‘Cause I’ve got some swimmers for you to swallow”, it was Paybacks turn to be gross. “Come on”, you called out, pulled a face but laughed anyway.

“My dick is so polite, it stands up so you can sit down”, Bob suddenly spoke up. The table got quiet and everybody looked at him with big eyes, seriously surprised that those words had just come out of his mouth. “Ma man”, Coyote leaned forward and patted Bob’s shoulder. The whole table erupted in laughter “Dude, you’re making me blush”, you said and in return made him blush. “That’s a good one, I gotta write that down”, Fanboy said and jokingly pulled over a napkin like he was actually taking notes. “Yeah? Let me know how that works out for ya”, Rooster commented with a chuckle and took a swig of his drink.

“Are you a washing machine? Because I have a load for you”, Hangman said and everybody groaned. “Hangman, don’t make me ring that bell. You know the rules”, you warned him and pointed at the sign hanging in the middle of the bar circle. “What did I do?”, he asked surprised. “You’re bordering on disrespecting women”, you told him. “Your whole existence is a disrespect to women”, Phoenix chimed in. “I just said what everybody else said. Why is it gross when I say it?”, he asked honestly offended. “Because everything sounds gross when you say it”, Phoenix lectured him. “Whatever”, he said and threw some empty peanut shells at her which made her laugh.

“Why is it always about banging and swallowing your stuff? What happened to ‘Hello, my name is…Can I buy you a drink?’ or ‘You look beautiful, I would like to get to know you’”, you asked into the round, honestly irritated. Phoenix nodded agreeingly while she took a sip from her drink. “Those phrases have been worn out, they don’t work anymore”, Payback waved it off. “Works when you haven’t heard it that much”, you mumbled at the rim of your beer bottle before you took a sip. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hangman looking over at you.

“You have to be clever, creative or those chicks won’t give you any attention”, Fanboy chimed in and pulled everybody’s attention on him. “And you wanna tell me that a cheesy pick-up line talking about your jizz will earn you more numbers than an honest ‘Hello, how are you’?”, Phoenix asked and shook her head. “Works on the right girls. I like ‘em freaky”, Fanboy answered her and wiggled his eyebrows.

“No wonder, you never get laid”, Rooster commented and made everybody laugh.

“You guys need a new round?”, you asked to change the topic. “I think we’re good for the night”, Rooster said and finished his beer. “We’ve got an early call tomorrow”, he added and got up from his chair.

“Hey, everybody! Pack it up”, Phoenix shouted and earned a few groans. It was already past 10 PM.

Not only did everybody collect their things, ready to go, but to your surprise, they all brought their bottles and glasses to the bar, placing them on the counter.

“Wow, thanks guys. Why don’t you do this every time?”, you jokingly asked as you closed the tabs and started handing back all the credit cards.

“Do you know how you get home? You shouldn’t drive”, Rooster asked as you handed him his card. “A bunch of you shouldn’t drive home anymore”, you countered. “We all Uber home and get our cars tomorrow”, he replied. “Oh okay, sounds reasonable”, you nodded and collected the glasses off the bar. “You should come with us, we get an Uber pool anyways”, Phoenix leaned on the counter, resting her head in her hands.

“I still have to clean up, you don’t have to wait for me”, you shook your head and smiled at her begging face. “Just come in earlier tomorrow”, Fanboy suggested. “It hurts my heart leaving you here”, Phoenix added and it made you chuckle.

“Alright, just let me put all the glasses in the baskets and wipe down the counter real quick”, you yielded your protest. “Yay”, Phoenix said and came around the bar. “I’m helping you. Come on, guys”, she waved over her colleagues.

“I’ll get us the Uber”, Payback said and got out his phone. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Coyote and Hangman leaving through the front door.

With the help of the others, it only took you a few minutes to clean up most of the bar before the Uber arrived. The six of you got in the van and got dropped off one by one at your houses and apartments. You were the last one in the car and it was 11 PM when you finally walked through your front door.

Next chapter: Part 5.1

[iguessimfished]

TWO SIDES AU!!

(Finished fully. I'm not changing anything now.)

Two sides AU is just two sides that kinda fight every now and then. When a player first enters the game they're randomly placed in a team (they don't choose)

Team A or Team C

Each round all players get 3 lives and once they lose all 3 they can't respawn until the game is over.

The goal of the game is to elimate the other team. When a team wins they now own that territory until they have to fight for it again.

What they're hoping to do is get rid of the other team for good so they can escape the game

Both sides currently think the other team is a bunch of npcs created by their ringmasters.

TEAM A

AIBEL

The leader of team A. He absolutely despises Caine yet he barely knows him and doesn't even know why he hates him so much. He clearly hasn't questioned this yet and is more busy keeping the players from burning the tent down.

GANGLE

Surprisingly the both strongest of Team A. When it comes to fighting she feels really bad about hurting the other team (unless they have their comedy mask on...) so if you're somehow still conscious after you get whacked by that hammer, you'll most likely hear them repeatedly apologize for hitting you.

JAX

(now with mime inspiration) Jax often enters the battle recklessly and never bothers to help his teammates. (They hate him) he also enjoys to constantly taunt and insult the other team, especially when he manages to gets a kill.

(for short, he's an asshole.)

ZOOBLE

Zooble doesn't like to rely on the others, and instead creates themselves a little army with small parts from their zoobox. But the thing is the critters have little HP and so taking them down is quite easy as long as you don't let them get too close to you.

QUEENIE

When the fight starts she tries to stay far and out of sight while taking down her opponents since she isn't the best with close combat. Although if it ever comes to it she'll leave her hiding spot and come to their teammates aid.

TEAM C

CAINE

The leader of Team C. He also dislikes aibel with no clue on why and a little bit of him wishes they didn't fight so much. But everytime they interact it ends in pointless arguing and bickering..

RAGATHA

Ragatha tries her best to help the team and lead them to victory. And so when her teammates are almost down she hurries to patch up any of their wounds. (literally patch it as in sewing.) Attempting to kill ragatha off first won't be easy since she always has her butcher knife prepared.

POMNI

A newer addition to Team C

She's still confused about everything in this place and rather leave than learn more about it, So often times she'll ditch her entire team to go and try searching for a way out. But when she's forced to stay in the fight she prefers to sneak up on her opponents exactly how she sneaks around the circus. (This is the reason she has no bells)

KAUFMO

(it's hard to draw him in my style :[ ) The second kaufmo gets on the field, everything is on fire. It's become a real problem to the point where outside of battle everyone tries their best to keep anything thats able to start a fire away from him, yet he always somehow finds a box of matches or two.

KINGER

When it comes to the battle kinger more focuses on his traps than the actual fight in hopes to catch a insect for his collection. (He has none so far.) If you let him, he'd go on rambles about the many traps he's thought of overtime and how they'd work. (Probably mentioning insects along the way)

EXTRA

I sadly reached the limit of 10 images so I'll just make a separate post and link it to this 😭

Extras here

[moxie-girl]

ASL+U Alice in Borderland AU!!

loads more lore for the AU under the cut!!!!

♠ACE

Ace entered the Borderlands alone, but soon teamed up with Sabo after seeing his skills in ♦ games. He’s aware that Sabo is probably using him for his strength, but he feels confident that he could take him if he tried anything. (Whether this is true remains to be seen.) Quick to anger, Ace has been fired from multiple jobs for insulting customers, but his temper proves its worth in keeping him away from untrustworthy ♥ players. Despite being skilled in many different forms of martial arts, Ace tends to fight dirty, which often catches opponents by surprise in ♠ games. He was arrested several times for suspected arson, and while the claims were never proven, his go-to weapons in the Borderlands include a lighter, and later, a makeshift flamethrower. While initially slow to trust, once he is comfortable around the others he becomes an overprotective and even doting big brother, not that he’d ever admit it.

♦SABO

Sabo entered the borderlands with a few of his co-workers, and was immediately thrown into a ♥ game with only one survivor. (It’s okay, he didn’t really like them anyway.) Initially, he teamed up with Ace to cover for his own weaknesses - while he’s decently fit, many ♠ games require athletics even beyond his level - but he unwillingly began to get attached. Sabo has a special knack for noticing the tricks or loopholes in ♦ and ♥ games, making him an extremely valuable player to work with. An investigative journalist before the Borderlands, he specialized in exposé articles, though many never got published due to companies paying the newspaper to keep quiet. He understands the risks of getting attached to other players, but all the same he can’t stop himself from caring for the others to the point that he’d probably trade his life for theirs, despite being a player who’d usually do anything to survive.

♣LUFFY

Luffy met both Ace and Sabo in a ♣ game that required players to work in groups of three. They tried to ditch him after the game, but were unsuccessful, and eventually decided to keep him around for his skills. While he seems incredibly trusting, Luffy has a keen eye for when someone is actually trustworthy, and survived several ♥ games on his own despite other players trying to take advantage of him. He is incredibly athletic and skilled at ♠ games as well, but his true strength is his ability to bring groups of people together and help them trust each other, even if it’s just for a short time. Luffy’s cheerful attitude despite the situation endears him to Ace and Sabo quickly, and they both find themselves getting attached to him. In the process of this, the two of them also begin to trust each other for real, although they try to deny this at first.

♥UTA

Uta is an incredibly famous idol known for her cheerful, hopeful personality. In reality, she’s merely playing a role she knows the audience loves the most, and she’s actually envious of those types of happy people. (Sometimes, she secretly wishes she was really like them.) In the Borderlands, Uta’s attitude serves her well, as does her fame, and she’s tricked many other players into doing hard work for her. The poker face of her preppy facade is another thing that makes her so skilled at ♥ games, and she’s much smarter than she lets on, playing up her attitude even more in ♦ games to goad opponents into making mistakes. Uta was saved by Luffy in a ♥ game when she was almost killed by a dealer she thought she was controlling, and under the guise of owing him, she travels with ASL for a little while. However, her plans of sacrificing the trio to clear more games are derailed almost immediately by Luffy’s endless optimism.

OTHER PLAYERS

♠KOBY

Koby was initially rather meek, despite having decent physical skills and having taken self-defense lessons for years (in an attempt to stop his bullies). However, after a chance encounter with Luffy, Koby develops his self-confidence and teams up with a group of other players including Helmeppo(♦) and Hibari(♣), realizing his abilities as a skilled ♠ player.

♣LAW

Law is the head surgeon of a prestigious hospital, and he and many of his co-workers were transported to the Borderlands at the same time. They formed a tight-knit team who all trust each other deeply. While Law is good at ♦ and ♥ games, his role as the head of the hospital group and skill at planning and directing the team means his true specialties lie in ♣ games.

♦KIDD

Kidd, despite his rough appearance, is actually an incredibly skilled engineer and one of the smartest ♦ players in the Borderlands. That’s not to say he isn’t also incredibly fit, though most of the fighting is left to his partner Killer(♠). He lost an arm trying to dismantle a piece of game tech, but he built a prosthetic and has continued trying to shut the games down. 

♥BONNEY

Bonney, at only 12 years old, is possibly the youngest player still alive in the Borderlands. Unintentionally, because of her age, more cynical players will sometimes sacrifice themselves to keep her alive. She carries this guilt with her, but doesn’t let it affect her worldview - her strong, trusting attitude makes her surprisingly skilled at ♥ games, and she’s no slouch at ♣ either. 

♠KOALA

Koala is a karate instructor who mainly stuck to herself after losing her previous group to a particularly brutal ♥ game. She has a particularly strong hatred for the game masters and wants nothing more than to give them a good beating. When Sabo gets separated from his group by the ♠K, she saves him and eventually joins his group when they reunite. 

♦DEUCE

Deuce is a medical student who took to hiding his face in an attempt to “re-invent” himself in the Borderlands. His skills as even a trainee doctor are invaluable, and he meets Ace in a ♣ game and eventually joins his group to help with ♦ games. Once he escapes the Borderlands, he plans to write a novel about his experiences, though he doubts anyone would read it.

THE STRAWHATS

I’m sure you’ve noticed that none of the Strawhats are listed here! That’s because Luffy meets them when he is thrust into yet another life-threatening accident after the Borderlands, and is pulled back into another, albeit smaller game. As the only person there who has experience with the games, he manages to keep them alive and the crew becomes close friends once they escape again. (After Ace, Sabo, and Uta beat Luffy half to death for scaring them like that.)

♦: Usopp, Chopper, Robin

♠: Zoro, Sanji, Franky

♣: Vivi, Jinbe

♥: Nami, Brook

[halestrom]

I made this gifset in an attempt to try not write the fic. It backfired. And I am really happy with the first scene so I felt like sharing 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Warnings for: blood, violence, pain, underground fighting. It’s mob boss Jake and fighter Bradley.

The first punch was always the worst. The feeling of knuckles against his skin; the way his head snapped back as pain spread across his synapses; the sudden urge to run filling his bones until he felt jittery with the need; the way thought fled his mind but the training ground into his very being had his arms coming up to defend himself from a second punch. All of it happening in a split second as the crowd roared around them in muted joy at the blood he could feel trickling down his face and then the world rushed back in and Bradley was moving, dodging the next punch and instead throwing one of his own, catching his opponent high on the chin and watching as his head snapped down and he went down in slow motion.

The ref was there, arms as thick as tree trunks pressing against Bradley’s chest to push him back, the tattoos wrapped around his skin telling his story as easily as the scars on Bradley’s body told his. Still, his opponent kept falling until he hit the mat and laid there, bleeding, eyes closed as his team screamed at him to get up, to get moving, to do something as the time wound down in flashes as the crowd screamed along with the coach because they wanted more blood than they already had, spattered around the ring that looked nicer than it should have for the world it belonged in.

But that was the nature of this world. Shiny, pretty things covered in blood, a veneer over the dark underground Bradley had found himself in. It was easy to forget, sometimes, what this world could do, with its brightly lit parties, the men and women dressed to the nines with flashing jewelry and perfectly done hair, outfits that cost as much as a new home. It was all a cover for the darkness, for the jockeying for the front row on the off chance some of the blood would fly over them, a badge of pride to wear for how close to the violence they could get. Bradley had been at more than one afterparty, face bruised and nose broken, again, only to talk to people who had blood splattered over theirs, some of the women with that blood splatter having smudged lipstick which told a tale as easily as the swollen lips of some of the men.

Violence and sex, a tale as old as time.

“Ten!”

The crowd screamed it’s joy as the ref grabbed his arm and raised it over his head, bare knuckles swollen and sore, his shoulder aching from a hit he had taken, the bruises over his ribs mottled and layered in various stages of healing. But all of it faded in satisfaction as he watched the other team pull his opponent out of the way of the rush of people, clamoring to get closer to him as his name was chanted.

“Your winner for the night ladies and gentlemen, Rooster!” the MC screamed into the mike, mouth twisted in a rictus grin, tall and thin and looking like the Grim Reaper himself in his black suit and pale skin.

Bradley knew his job, he knew what he needed to do to keep the favor as he shove his other hand up in the air and dropped his head back, crowing his victory, again, and spitting out the mouth guard, grinning with bloody teeth and split lips, his cheek aching even as the ref dropped his arm and people swarmed, hands clapping him on the back, hitting muscles covered in bruises as he worked his way through the crowd, accepting congratulations and smiling for flashing phones with his arms draped around women who let their hands drop lower than he wished, like he was just something else that was part of the setting and not a real person.

Sometimes, he doubted they thought of him as a real person. It probably made it easier.

He made it back to the corner, hands still clapping him on the back, fingers finding the sore spots and bruising them but he ignored it as he took the towel from his cutman for the night, wiping his face clear, the fabric ripped away from him as soon as he was done and he let it, bracing his arms on the ropes and letting his eyes slide from the cut man who was talking to a man in a fancy suit to a man dressed in a pair of jeans and a white shirt, looking so out of place with the rest of the peacocks but despite that, he looked like he belonged.

And he did. After all, this building belonged to him, the money that changed hands came with a tax that fed back into him, securing his empire with each punch thrown and real time bet made. Jake Seresin was at the top of this world, and like every other thing in this room, Bradley belonged to him.

“Good enough for you?” Bradley asked, forcing himself to smile around aching lips.

Jake smiled back at him, small and sharp and at odds with the coldness in his ice green eyes. “Better than, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice smooth and warm and it was a balm on Bradley’s bruises as he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.

A good fight meant a good paycheck, something better than could mean a bonus. Something Bradley could use to chip away at the bills and put some money away so when his day finally came, his parents wouldn’t be left with the debt.

“Good,” Bradley said, folding his arms and resting his chin on them.

“Taking the hit at the end was inspired,” Jake said, taking a step closer until he was looking up at Bradley, head tilted back but Bradley knew who held the power here.

Crouching until they were eye to eye, Bradley left his hands on the top rope, keeping himself steady as Jake stepped ever closer, reaching out to brush a thumb over the bruise Bradley could already feel swelling his eye closed. “Half the idiots in the room upped their ante on you getting KO’d. Idiots.”

The derision wasn’t masked, but Jake never needed to mask anything. Not with his power, not with the three bodyguards Bradley could make out, and the loyalty of half the room. Bradley shrugged when it seemed like Jake was waiting for an answer. “Wasn’t thinking,” he said, telling the truth.

Bradley didn’t think when he fought. He had an objective. Win. That was all he needed to do and anything else would get in the way. Once upon a time he had thought more, building up the tension until he struck. But that was a long time ago, a different person. He couldn’t risk being that person anymore, not when he needed to keep standing.

Jake smiled like Bradley had said something funny and leaned in, hand still cupping Bradley’s jaw, thumb pressing down on the edge on the bruise until Bradley hissed at the bloom of pain, ignoring the way his pulse pounded. “Regardless, a fight like that deserves a reward. So what do you want, darlin’?”

Money. A way out. A year without something going wrong. To get rid of the axe hanging over his mother’s neck as each month passed and her cancer stayed in remission. To go back in time and beg God a little bit harder for a miracle so Bradley wasn’t drawn into his life. He wanted a lot of things. Jake Seresin might be god in this world, but Bradley knew better than to pray to the devil.

“A good days sleep,” he said dryly, smiling at Jake who huffed, a ghost of something Bradley might almost classify as a real smile ghosting his lips for a second.

“Oh, I think we can arrange that,” Jake said, moving his hand and rubbing a thumb over Bradley’s bottom lip before dropping his hand, but not before Bradley saw the red smeared on it. He licked his bottom lip and tasted salt and copper where there had only been copper before.

“Oh yeah?” Bradley asked, tilting his head to the side, wondering what Jake meant.

Jake gave him a once over before he nodded. “Finish up and then clean up, Rooster. Meet me in my office. We’ll get you out of here before dawn.”

Bradley knew a dismissal when he heard it and he nodded, standing and ignoring the ache in his muscles as he turned back to the crowd, aware of eyes on him, once again aware of the role he needed to play as he thrust arms up into the air and crowe. It was all the crowd needed before they surged, content with the knowledge Bradley had paid his dues to the man who owned all of them and now he was fair game.

Hands grabbed him and he was pulled into the crowd, the world reduced to flashes and half heard comments and Bradley focused on it, letting himself get drawn into it so he didn’t have to think about an opponent he would never see again, and a meeting in an office that had turned him down this path and taken him from aspiring MMA fighter to Jake Seresin’s prize fighter.

[remidyal]

Outstanding antagonists after Junior Year

This post is as much for myself for fanfic purposes as it is for any speculation regarding a Senior Year that may never happen and even if it does would be I think at an absolute minimum three years and more likely 4-5 down the road, but I wanted to round up the known potential antagonists remaining out in the world, roughly ranked in order of known hostility:

Chungledown Bim. Certainly the MOST hostile of opponents, we know he's not dead post-Boy's Night (whenever Boy's Night is supposed to fit into the Quangle) because he's on Fabian's nemesis alert.

Arianwen Abernant. Evidently she has recovered her magic, probably while Cassandra was corrupted into a more Nightmare King-ish state. She was pretty pissed at Aelwyn and Adaine the last time we saw her over the whole death of Angwyn thing; I somehow don't think being chased around Sylvaire by the vand will have improved her mood.

Bobby Dawn. The full extent of his involvement in the Junior Year plot is uncertain, but he sure as hell wasn't helping things. Also some real potential hate between him and the party over the Sandra Lynn thing; while Fig might be gone in a Senior Year I'm going to ignore that for these rankings and in any case Sandra Lynn still lives with Kristen and Adaine regardless, so I think that conflict would be born out. I also think there's a strong case for a clash of pantheons style story going on in the background, and Bobby here would be front and center on the Sol-Helio-maybe Galicaea side.

Kalina. I don't necessarily think Kalina actually IS a traitor to Cassandra the way that Kristen thinks and Ankarna thinks; I almost believe that her turning up at the end of Junior Year was a reaction to them deciding to hunt her, in fact. That being said, while I think Kalina is fully team Cassandra, I also think (and even understand!) that she is most definitely NOT team Kristen, who did let Cassandra kind-of-die and now is splitting her attention. So what's Kalina's play now? I think she's going to try to push for Bobby Dawn to add Cassandra back to the Sol-Helio-Galicaea pantheon, which would be to her a much more stable foundation to keep Cassandra alive on than Kristen.

The Automatons that are going to be hunting Fig. Yes, these are self-evidently a way to excuse that Fig won't be around to help out if there's a senior year and Emily chooses to not play Fig. They're also kind of hilarious, especially since they open up all kinds of questions like 'wait did Sandra Lynn spend her first year of adventuring fighting off killer statues of Arthur Aguefort?' They'd be higher except they're only hostile to 1/6th of the Bad Kids.

Gertie Bladeshield. Also only hostile to 1/6th of the Bad Kids at present, though Cassandra knows if any of them speak up in Kristen's defense she'll probably swear a vow of emnity to them too. Could probably be made up with via a sincere apology, or at least by setting her up with someone.

The Court of Stars and Princess Nara. Now we're into the dubiously hostile territory, because this might not lead to actual conflict, but if there IS a clash of pantheons between the Sol one and the Ankarna-Cass one then the most obvious fight other than Cassandra is over where Galicaea ends up. The members of the Court of Stars we met this season seemed much more, um, I'll use the word chilled out than Angwyn and Kir of last year, but it still feels like a mercurial thing.

Arthur Aguefort. I've been saying for a very long time that the only boss fight that makes sense for a Senior Year IS to have to fight Arthur Aguefort himself; it doesn't even necessarily have to be a 'he's evil' sort of thing, but could just be a 'you're the best party we've had in centuries and I wanna throw down'. He dropped some hints at it in the finale, of course, too!

[pinkisthenewangst]

°`🍨: Kozume Kenma x GN! Reader

°`🍨: Small Hopes

He was bored of you. From the first day your parents introduced you to him, you were simply just boring in his eyes. As if you were black and white. Absolutely no colour that would draw his eyes to your form. You just looked like all the girls that tried to charm him just because he looks cute in their eyes but after he rejected them, he suddenly gets called a jerk. Kenma was totally sure you were one of those.

But you looked at him as if he hung up all the stars for you. As if the world was made for him and he deserved all of it even though all he does is playing his games, play some volleyball and breathe like he is required to do. It was as if you were looking at a statue, build 1000 years ago, but falling in love with the little details that are still there to look at. It pulled your heartstrings when he wrinkles his nose when something annoys him. It made your heart flatter how his hair hangs in his eyes while he is focused on his handheld, that he starts to blow it out of his eyes. But it also hurt so much to see his annoyed face when you open your mouth.

It was not your fault, that you had other hobbies then he did. It was not your fault you were not able to connect to him but why does he make it look like, you did everything wrong from the first time until now? Your parents dragged you to his house after his parents wished to see you. It was Kuroo that wanted you to stay when you walked past them playing volleyball. It was the school system that made you sit in the same classroom as him. But why are you the bad person? You never argued with him. You only did small talk with him if needed. You only looked at him from far away because you both were clearly not friends. But why did your heart decide he is the boy of your dreams?

Seeing him in your dreams is nothing new. Him hugging you softly or smiling at you, with his shy but smug looking smile you sometimes see when he tricked his opponent. Dreaming about a what if situation that will never happen. In the end it was just a stupid crush that made it hard for both of you. Still you needed to let go for his peace of mind and your hurting heart. But why is letting go so hard?

You don't feel giving up because what if he happens to look past his first thoughts. What if he changes his mind? You also don't want to look weak. Weak for giving up a situation that could change. You still have one whole year until your paths will very probably part away. Even if the chance is so small you would need to zoom in on a phone, you would try to grab it with both of your bare hands. Everything that might change something even if it's just you both talking like normal classmates. What the most stupid thing is, is problem you're trying to do all of it on your own. Everything Kuroo tries to catch you and trap you in a situation with his teammate, you always find a way to escape. When the second years somehow nudge you in his direction, you always dodge Kenma before you both collided.

It was hard but one day it might change something. This was your hope and dream. Even if your heart was literally bleeding in your chest, you would just put a band-aid over it while crossing your fingers that it hopefully works out in your favour.

°`🍨: I wanted it to look like a small rant! It's nothing good or life changing but i think it's somehow still bitter sweet :> I might also open my requests for real this time lmao

°`🍨: RESQUESTS ARE ??? (NOT SURE LMAO)

[gummygowon]

forest green | choi san

word count: 1k

request: forest green + angst (pls with happy ending i cant take sadness 😥💔)/opposites attract + san <3 !! thank u !

warnings: a few losers being mean to sannie

a/n: hi love thank you so much for requesting i'm so sorry this im posting this so late but i really had sm fun with this one i hope you enjoy!

"no shot y/n." your best friend soojin whispers to you as you guys walk out onto the court before the game starts.

"what?" you whisper back, trying to keep the cheerful smile on your face as you wave your forest green pom poms in the air at the crowd.

"you like choi san don't you?"

"what?" you pause, whipping your head to look at soojin.

"be so for real y/n, i can see you looking for his nerdy ass in the crowd right now."

"i am not!" you argue, turning your back to the crowd as the basketball team makes their way onto the court.

"y/n, you have the entire school at your finger tips and you choose choi san? nerdy ass choi san who spends his time in the library every friday night."

"and? i don't mind." you sheepishly answer staring down at your poms as san's cute dimple smile infiltrated your mind.

"my god, y/n, you have the kim mingyu wrapped around your finger and you want san?!?"

"at least san has a brain and isn't a jerk."

"so? he's hot that basically covers everything." soojin defends as you guys walk to the sidelines.

"for you it does." you huff, smoothing out your skirt as you get in your spot that was on the corner of the court. it gave you the perfect view of san who was wearing a forest green sweater to represent your school's colors. he was sitting at the very top of the bleachers looking lost as soon as the game started. a small smile appeared on your face as watch san's eyebrows furrow in confusion trying to understand what was happening in front of him. eventually, his eyes trailed down to the cheerleader section where you were. you caught his gaze and gave him a small wave which he returned with a shy smile.

the crowd erupts in cheers as hongjoong scores the first basket of the game meaning your little moment with san was rudely ended. the game however goes on well as your team absolutely destroys your opponent. cheers erupted the gym as the students shouted in celebration. as one of the cheer leaders you follow your team to the court to make a tunnel for the team as they head back to the locker room.

once they leave, your coach gives out her post game speech and then lets you guys go. to your surprise, you see san waiting outside the gym trying to make himself look busy.

"hey," you softly say bumping his shoulder with yours causing him to jump. "do you need help finding the exit or?"

"no," san scoffs bumping his shoulder into you as revenge, "just thought i should say you did great out there."

a shy smile makes its way to your face as your heart beats against your chest. "thank yo-"

"y/n!" mingyu emerges from god knows where, throwing his arm over you forcing you and san to separate. "you comin' to my house later? my parents are gone and i'm throwing a huge party for tonight's win!"

"oh, i-" you peer over mingyu's large frame to see san looking dejectedly at the floor.

"you're going!" yuqi shouts from behind, another one of your teammates.

you didn't even get a chance to say goodbye as mingyu and his teammates along with yours push you to the parking lot.

"why are you even hanging out with san? isn't he a total loser?" someone asks from behind you.

"yeah, plus he's a total sqaure!"

"little man probably hasn't felt the touch of a woman since his mother changed his diaper!"

"excuse me?" you say utterly in shock that your so called friends are just outwardly saying shit about someone.

before anyone even had a chance to say anything san pushes his way through the crowd angrily.

"san, wait!" you say trying to catch up to him only to have mingyu tug at your wrist.

"leave him be y/n. kid's a loser anyways."

"he is not!" you argue, ripping your arm away from him. "just fuck off and go have your stupid party!"

you made a beeline to your car and drove to the one place you knew san would be at a time like this. the park where the playground was a mix of ugly beige and forest green and where the park overlooked your little hometown. san liked it because it made him like he was on top of the world even if he was treated like shit.

thankfully, san's beat up toyota corolla was parked in front of the playground.

"thought i might find you here." you say in a quiet tone, wrapping your hands around self because of course you forgot your lettermen at home.

san didn't even turn to look at you as he swung slowly on the creaky swing set. "aren't you supposed to be at some party?"

"yeah, but i didn't feel like going." you answer sitting next to san on the other swing.

"so you decided to hang out with a loser on a good friday night?" he sarcastically asks.

"san-"

"why do you even wanna be around me? midterms are over so you don't have to be around me for awhile." san spits, still not even daring to look up at you. "you know, i thought that maybe there would be a chance you actually like me."

your heart cracked at every word that was coming out his mouth. "san, i do. a lot. trust me."

"no you don't." his knuckles turning white because of how hard he was gripping the chains on the swing. "not in the way i do."

still san was refusing to look up at you until you take a hand and place it softly on his cheek. san jumps at your sudden touch before slowly raising his eyes to meet yours.

"i like you sannie." you confess, heart racing a hundred miles per hour. "i don't care what people or even you say about yourself. i like the way your dimples pop out when you smile. i like the way you never get frustrated with him when you're teaching me. i like the way you remember the little things about everyone. i like you, choi san."

"i-are you sure?" he asks to stunned to even respond to your confession.

you nod your head, giggling at the way san was staring at you in shock.

"can i kiss you?"

"of course, sannie." you answer before smiling to the warm kiss.

[whenrainhitsmyskin]

Five Times Bakugo Katsuki Fell in Love with You

pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: He doesn’t really know when it first happened, the longing looks in your direction, holding doors open for you, or making sure he attended your shared groups movie nights when he knew you would be there, but he does remember the first day violent butterflies swarmed his gut and attacked him from the inside.

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, talk about anxiety, hospitalization, emotional vulnerability, so much fluff it’s sickening.

The First Time

During the first semester of their second year at UA, Mr.Aizawa had begun instructing more hand-to-hand combat training exercises. It started with demonstrations from the pros and some lessons, and then finally the real deal, to put their learning into practice. 

Aizawa had put together partner rotations, first starting out with people around the same weight class or height, but as the lessons went on the partners became mismatched so the class could learn how to fight someone smaller and more nimble than them or taller with a longer arm reach.

Today, Bakugo was paired up with Mineta, the small fry of the class. Although he always was very serious and dedicated to hands-on hero training, he couldn’t help but take it easy for the day considering he was way out of his competition's caliber.

And he guesses this also caused him to be more distracted than usual as well, considering he usually never lost focus, but today must be an exception when he can’t keep his eyes away from you and your training partner Kirishima. He turns in your direction as soon as he hears you raise your voice at the red head.

“What the hell are you doing Kirishima?” You ask with your hands on your hips staring at Kirishima, who is sitting on the mat in front of you.

“What do you mean y/n? I’m not doing anything?” He asks.

“Why are you going so easy on me, huh?” You shout, lifting him by the collar of his gym uniform. It’s like watching a bad car crash and not being able to look away. By this time the whole class and Mr.Aizawa had stopped what they were doing to get an understanding of what was going down.

“I swear I'm not man!” Kirishima explains, he looks mildly scared even though he’s a few inches taller and his biceps are probably double the size of your own, “You just got the jump on me.”

“Bullshit Kirishima, hand-to-hand combat is basically your specialty considering your quirk is better in close range.” You let him go with a small push, Bakugo swears he can see steam coming out from your ears, “I saw you beat Midoriya multiple times the other day, and I didn’t win against him once last week, so stop going easy on me, it’s not doing either of us any good.”

He would laugh if he couldn’t see how fucking serious you were, calling out one of your closest friends on his bullshit in front of everyone, even though he’s the nicest person in the class. He’s impressed, although he would never admit that.

“She’s right, Kirishima.” Mr.Aizawa cuts in, “This training is supposed to help everyone improve, so fight her like you would a real opponent. Now everyone get back to work!”

That’s what gets Bakugo to finally snap out of his daze from you and back to sparring.

The Second Time

The class was sent away to different locations to complete the practical part of their midterm for their second year. The goal of the exercise is to retrieve the dummy “civilian” from the pro hero who is acting as the “villain”. Class 2A has been split up into several teams, which is why Bakugo just can’t seem to wrap his head around how he is stuck with the Dunce Face who never fails to irritate him, the Icy-Hot bastard that is constantly getting on his nerves with everything he does and then there's…you, the only one apart of this shitty team he can kind of tolerate.

The “villain” his shitty group was up against is a holder of an animation quirk, who can bring inanimate objects to life. It’s already been proven to be a real pain in the ass considering every bush, rock and flower has been coming at them from every angle.

It’s around 1am and everyone is cold and exhausted, so the group decided to set up camp for the night. Himself, you and Todoroki were resting while Denki was meant to stay on watch, but he abandoned his post in favor of peeing somewhere deeper into the woods, which is when the villain decided to animate nearly every tree surrounding their camp site.

Bakugo woke up to the sounds of rustling and a violent scream from your mouth. The three of you start fighting back. How did nobody notice the trees were being animated? And where the hell is Dunce Face? 

He’s probably taken down about a fourth of them himself by the time he hears Sparky running back behind him.

“What the hell happened?” Denki screams, as he joins in on the fight.

“You weren’t doing your damn job Sparky, that’s what happened!” He berated him. Just before Bakugo was going to take down the next one, he noticed your quirk getting weaker, and you were taking longer to defeat the enemy than you should.

“Take this last one!” Bakugo commanded, in order to make this way over to you. 

“On it!” Denki said from a distance.

Bakugo quickly jumped in front of you and took down the last tree, Denki and Todoroki finished off their own as well.

“That one was mine, asshole.” You say, sounding winded. 

“Yeah, well it looks like ya needed the help.” He responds, and that’s when he finally gets a better look at your injury. 

The sight is absolutely gruesome, there’s a nasty gash in the middle of your thigh that’s definitely going to need stitches and recovery girls help, the blood is dripping down the span of your whole leg and onto the grass.

“Oh my god…” He says, not able to take his eyes off of it. You end up following his line of sight and look down. Your eyes widen when you finally see it.

“Oh shit.” You say, lowering yourself to the ground. He can see tears start to prick your eyes as Todoroki and Denki make their way over to you.

“Everything okay?” Todoroki asks, squatting down next to you, “That doesn’t look good.”

“Yeah, no shit moron!” Bakugo points out.

“Oh my god I can’t look!” Denki says, putting his hands over his mouth, “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Do it somewhere else.” Todoroki says, seemingly disgusted.

“You guys are the absolute worst!” Bakugo says in an aggravated tone, “This is all on you Sparky!”

“Everyone shut up!” You yell, Bakugo can see you trying to work something out in your head, a moment later you finally voice what you’ve come up with, “Denki get me your water bottle and-fuck, Bakugo, I need you to put pressure above the wound, lots of it and Todoroki rip off both of your sleeves.”

Bakugo thinks you seem pretty calm for someone that could potentially bleed out at any moment, given that a major artery could have been hit. He determines it is probably a mix of shock and the adrenaline from the fight.

He lowers himself to the ground and puts both hands above your upper thigh, using lots of pressure like you said to do.

“Fuck, we need to call off the mission and get you to a doctor y/n.” He says, his voice wavering, as Todoroki hands over the torn off sleeves and the water Denki retrieved, who is now standing a few feet away.

“Absolutely not, we are gonna carry on with the mission and pass this final.” You say sternly, grabbing the mask right off of Bakugos head and ripping it. You push his hands off of you and tie the mask tightly around where his hands once were.

“Don’t be so stubborn, we can’t-“ He begins.

“Well fucking deal with it!” You say as you begin pouring water on one of the sleeves, “I’m not going anywhere until we pass, I’ll be fine. Now I need you to clean this thing.”

He gives you a hard look and then does what you say. He pats the wound and tries to clean it out as much as he can. You hiss out in pain and fist the grass underneath your palms, he hears Denki gagging in the back.

“Okay-okay that’s good.” You say, he pulls the cloth away and watches you tie the dry sleeve around the wound, he supposed you must have learned more in that Health and Safety class than he did. 

“Well, what now?” Todoroki asks, awaiting your response.

“We go get that dummy, get the hell out of here and pass the exam.” You state with conviction, he can’t tell if you're trying to trick yourself into believing it, or if you are fully confident. You reach your hand out to Bakugos own, “Now help me up.” 

Bakugo grabs onto the hand you are holding up and swings your arm around his shoulder, trying to relieve you of some of the weight you would normally be using on that leg. The group starts heading to the location where the dummy is supposedly located. Denki and Todoroki are a few feet in front of the two of you, but he can make out the faint sound of their whispers and catches them glancing back a few times.

“Thanks.” You sigh, you sound tired and worn out and he thinks you look slightly pale, but he knows if he even attempts to call off the mission you would probably try strangling him to death.

“You did good.” He says, thoughts slipping out, “You stayed really calm in a high stress situation. It’s…impressive.” There’s a pause filled by only your silence, he’s worried he caught you off guard with such a direct compliment, considering he’s probably never given you one before.

“Yeah, well if I wasn’t going to help myself, who would?” You ask.

“Me, it obviously wouldn’t be either of those two idiots.” He doesn't think the two of you have ever talked this much without other people being involved. He guesses you’re just trying to keep your mind off of your injury, he reasons talking with you in favor of passing this exam.

“You got some of the worst scores in our medical training class because you claimed it wouldn’t be useful to you.” You chuckle, giving him a look, unfortunately for him, he looks back.

You’ve got a small smile gracing your lips, even though you’re probably in an immense amount of pain. But what he really can’t wrap his head around is the fact that you’re smiling at him. Why does he even care?

“Yeah well maybe I’ll brush up on it.” He says, his ears are burning, and his heart is beating faster than it probably should be, considering the fight ended over twenty minutes ago.

The Third Time:

When Mina asked him before dinner if he wanted to watch a movie tonight with their shared friend group, he wasn’t all that interested. He would much rather get to bed at a decent time, wake up early tomorrow and use their one day off to study for Monday's Hero History exam.

“No, I'm not watching another shitty movie.” He says, grabbing his plate of food and sitting down at the common room table, right across from you, a recent development in the class's seating arrangements.

“Oh, come on! They aren’t that bad.” She says, taking a seat next to you, “y/n, movie night, are you down?”

“Yeah of course!” You say, seemingly excited to spend the night with your friends, “As long as Sero doesn’t choose it this time. Are you gonna join us Bakugo?”

He pauses, he can’t remember a time where you directly invited him to something before. He thinks you look sincere, and your question makes it seem like you actually want him to be there. Why does he care if you want him there or not?

“Fine, whatever.” He begrudgingly agrees and continues eating his meal.

“Okay cool.” You say, he notices the smile on your face when you speak.

Meanwhile, Mina's jaw is on the floor when she stares between the two of you, but eventually it turns into a sly smirk.

About an hour after dinner everyone meets in the common room for movie night, he notices that most of the class is there, taking up nearly all the space on the couches, besides the one to the far right where Sero, Mina and Kirishima are sitting. Bakugo sits on the edge closest to the tv, leaving space between him and Mina.

He looks around the room. On the couch across from him is Denki, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Ojiro and Shoji and on the center couch across the tv is Todoroki, Asui, Uraraka and Deku with an empty space next to him. He notices that you aren’t anywhere in the common room like you were supposed to be.

Almost as soon as Sero starts the movie, he sees you getting out of the elevator with Shinsou, the pair of you are laughing. He sees you’re wearing pajamas, frilly little shorts and a sweatshirt, he thinks it's kind of cute.

The two of you make your way into the common area, still talking and giggling, he doesn’t like it and he is unable to pinpoint why. Shinsou splits off and sits next to Deku and you slot yourself into the seat next to your best friend and him.

“Anything happened yet?” You ask, not really to anyone in particular, but he takes it upon himself to answer.

“No, just started.” He says, watching you grab a blanket from a nearby basket, “You’re late.”

“Yeah, I wanted to get ready for bed so I don’t have to after the movie.” You say. He just grunts in response and brings his attention to the screen. 

Once you get situated in your seat, he realizes just how crammed the small couch is, your legs are brushing against each other and he swears he can feel your breath, causing bumps to arise on his skin.

About halfway through the movie, which consists of sharks coming out of a tornado-seriously, who lets Sero pick the movie every time?-, he feels your body weight shifting on the couch to get comfortable, and your knee ends up hitting the top of his thigh.

“Oops, sorry.” You apologize to him in a whisper, he feels you trying to move away, but are unable to since Mina is right up against you.

“It’s alright.” He says, turning from the tv and looking at you instead, “Don’t mind.” He can see you start to get red in the face.

“Oh…” Is all you manage to let out in response, he gives you a hard look, your face exudes embarrassment, seeing as you are looking everywhere but his direction. He finds it within himself to turn his attention back to the movie, he wishes he could have seen the adorable expression on your face just a little bit longer.

With just a few minutes left of this god-awful movie, he feels your head hit his shoulder, he goes as stiff as a board and his stomach drops at the foreign feeling. He turns his head and see’s you knocked out by tiredness and unfortunately for him, he can also see Mina and Kirishima giggling, he mouths “shut up” to them.

When the movie credits finally start to roll, everyone begins making their way up to their respective rooms. Denki gives him a thumbs up as he walks away, making Bakugo unironically slap his forehead, not knowing what to do about you sleeping on him. 

After the common room is completely cleared out and he looks at the clock and sees how late it is, he finally builds up the courage to wake you up. He pokes you in the forehead to start. All you do is stir a little in your sleep but nestle into him further and get more comfortable. 

“Oh my god.” He says under his breath, “Time to get up.” He shakes his shoulder to move your head and then he tries nudging your own, but still no luck. He realizes you sleep like a fucking rock, and he is probably just going to have to carry you to your bed. He scoops you up in his arms and gets into the elevator. He arrives on the fourth floor where the both of you reside and if he remembers correctly, you are the last room on the girl’s side of the hallway.

He opens the door to your room, and it looks a lot different than what he would have expected. A lamp emits a soft light on the nightstand next to your unmade bed, which has gray sheets and a green blanket, an abundance of live plants sitting on the windowsill, your school books are piled up on your desk and a hanging black punching bag in the corner across from your closet, clothes and other items are hazardously thrown across the span of your floor. He’s surprised at how messy it is, considering how organized your thoughts and ideas are projected.

As soon as he lays you carefully down on your bed you stir awake. Of course, that’s the one thing that will wake you up.

“Bakugo?” You ask and look at your surroundings, “What are you doing in my room?”

“You fell asleep downstairs and nothing I did seemed to wake you, so I carried you.” He says, standing awkwardly at the side of your bed as you sit up and rub your eyes.

“Oh, well thanks.” You say, he takes a look at you, and he thinks you look kind of cute when you're all sleepy, and that's when he sees the long and jagged scar on your leg that was left on you as a result of last semester's final exam. When you finally open your eyes again, you catch him staring it at.

“Yeah, I know, it’s really ugly.” You state, with a pout on your face, you rub your thumb against it, like you're trying to erase the scar.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says with a confused look on his face when he sees tears form a glassy sheen over your eyes, “Didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s fine.” You say in a tone colder than he has ever heard you use. He can’t wrap his head around on why you’re so upset about the once damaged skin that is now healing on you. Had he done something else to offend you? Did his staring make you insecure about your skin? He racks his brain, trying to come up with something, anything, that could possibly help make you feel better.

“It’s just skin.” He tells you how it is, he doesn't know why he felt the need and desire to say something, “All scars are just skin.” He finally looks at your face and you look like he just rewrote the stars for you, with just a few short words. You look back down at your leg, seemingly in a different light.

“Yeah, just skin.” You repeat him.

“Right. Goodnight y/n.” He says, before going to exit your room. He closes the door behind him and lets out a deep breath. He touches his pulse, its fucking racing, his skin feels like its buzzing.

The Fourth Time:

The third year at UA for the hero course students consists more of hands-on experience through their work studies, rather than being in the classroom. Because of this it’s rare for the class to be there all together, when everyone is out doing their own things for their respective agencies.

Today, Bakugo, Midoriya and Todoroki were called into Endeavours agency for a meeting on an upcoming mission. The first person Bakugo notices when he walks into the conference room is you, to his surprise, seated next to Miriko, who you do your work study with. After him, Deku and Todoroki walk in and the door closes behind him, you take a glance over your shoulder and your eyes meet his own. You give him a smile and a short wave.

His face feels hot, and his neck is sweating, he pulls at the constricting collar of his school uniform, in an attempt to keep it from sticking to him. How is it that even the smallest of friendly gestures you make towards him has him feeling this pathetic?

He sees Deku pulling out the chair next to you to sit down, but before he can, Todoroki grabs him by the shoulders and moves him to the next seat over, causing Bakugo to sit next to you. He thinks the act is strange, but Icy-Hot is one of the strangest people he has ever met, so it adds up.

When Bakugo sits down next to you, he can see you looking at him from the corner of his eye, he fidgets with his thumbs under the table, he blames it on nerves for the upcoming mission and not the attention you have on him.

The plans for tomorrow's mission are all drawn out and prepared to be executed. The Pro’s take their leave in a hurry due to their busy schedules and Deku and Todoroki booked it out of there suspiciously fast as well. He stands up from his seat and notices that you are also.

“I was surprised when Miriko told me we were meeting at Endeavors Agency today,” You say to him, “I never thought we would be paired up for a mission together.”

“It’s weird they have such an uneven ratio of pros to students, makes me think this is going to be an easy one.” He responds. He reaches the door handle and before he can even think about it, he holds it open for you to go through first. He mentally slaps his forehead, for such an obvious gesture by his standards.

“Yeah, I really hope so.” You say with a smile on your face.

The next day rolls around, and the mission is finally a-go. Bakugo and you have been stationed on the roof of another building to stake out the old manufacturing warehouse where there have been reports of illegal drug and weapon distribution. 

They haven't been given any details on how many villains there are or what kind of quirks they have, so the mission needs to be treated with caution, hence the stake out, that has been going on for nearly two hours to see when the van's leave. That time mainly consisted of small talk between the two of you and building a strategy.

The first sign of movement is the back door opening up, three people with cargo loading up three different vans. He eyes you touching your earpiece.

“Miriko, they are loading up the vans with the contraband, what's the move? Do we stop them from taking off?” You ask for command.

“Negative, let them get far enough away where they can’t receive backup, but not too far where they will reach a heavily populated area.” She responds, her voice is a little staticky, but just clear enough to make out.

The pair of you turn towards one another and give each other a nod. Once the vans depart the two of you are off, jumping from building to building, to keep up with them, Bakugo takes a second to look back and sees the other teams heading into the building.

“I’ll get the one in front and you take the last one, ready!” He pauses, “Now!”

The both of you land on two separate vans, Bakugo kicks the front windshield open and throws the villain out the car door, he grabs onto the wheel, slams on the brakes and puts it in park, causing the vehicle to come to an abrupt halt. He gets out, pins the villain to the ground and restrains him with quirk prohibiting handcuffs. 

He turns around and sees the van you were assigned to has been flipped over onto its side, and you are fighting the villain that was in the middle van, you’re putting up a good fight, but that doesn't discourage him from running over to assist you. The two of you start tag-teaming him, but its nearly fucking impossible to get a good hit because his body keeps disappearing and reappearing right before his eyes.

He hears the sound of metal being split in half behind the two of you, so he takes a look in the direction he hears it coming from. He sees a villain holding some type of hand-held machine pointed directly at you. The villain presses a button and all of a sudden, his feet are taking him in your direction, and he ends up on the other side of an extremely powerful blast of air. 

It has him skidding down the road a few meters, throwing his body against the concrete. His ears are ringing, and his vision is blurry, he feels like he can’t breathe. He can just barely make out the sound of your voice and your blurry figure taking down and detaining the other two villains. And then you're rushing over to him. You fall on the ground, press on your earpiece and scream to whoever may be listening on the other end of it, it sounds like he’s under water. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Bakugo.” You put his head on your lap, you brush back his hair with one hand and put the other on the left side of his chest. You start crying, tears fall onto his skin, he feels your hands shaking, “You shouldn’t have done that for me, what-what were you thinking?”

He tries sitting up to get a better look at you, but his chest and ribs ache so bad he’s unable to, he hisses in pain and gives up. Instead, he says your name and covers the hand that’s on his chest with his own.

“It’s like holding a door open for ya, didn’t even have to give it a thought.” He says, and before you can even process his words or give him some words in return, exhaustion finally takes over him and everything fades out.

The next thing he knows, he’s stirring awake to an irritating beeping sound in the most uncomfortable bed he has ever had the displeasure of laying on. The air smells sterile and that’s how he concludes the beeping is probably coming from a heart monitor and he is currently laying in a hospital bed. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is Icy-Hot, who is standing at the foot of his bed and squinting at him.

“Guys he’s awake.” Todoroki alerts the others in the room. Bakugo tries finding his voice, but his throat is too dry and they won’t come out.

“Oh good!” Midoriya says, sitting up from the chair against the wall, “How are you feeling Kacchan?”

He points to the water bottle on the bedside table, Deku hands it to him, he takes a large sip, then two, then three and next thing he knows the whole thing is gone.

“M’fine, how did the rest of the mission play out?” He asks, more concerned for the villain's arrest than his own physical being.

“It went well, we arrested the villains inside of the warehouse and thanks to you and y/n, a good portion of the drugs and weapons never got distributed!” Midoriya chimes, and that's when he sees you over Todoroki’s left shoulder, looking out the window. Your eyes are a little red and your face is puffy, he wonders how long you had been crying for.

“Hey Midoriya, you and I should probably go find the doctor.” Todoroki says.

“Oh okay sure.” Deku responds. They make their exit out of the room and the door closes behind them. Bakugo sits up on the bed and leans against the frame. You still haven’t looked or said anything to him, which is weird because anytime one of your classmates gets injured you always rush to their aid and attempt to comfort them.

“Well, it seems like the mission went accordingly.” His pathetic attempt at making some kind of small talk with a little more substance. All you do is scoff at his words. “The mission is over, we won, what’s wrong with ya?” “Really, what’s wrong with me? The hell is your problem, Bakugo?” You ask, that’s all it takes for you to finally look his way, even though you are kind of half-yelling at him, that's all he really wanted.

“I am just fine y/n, you're the one that’s sulking right now.” He fights back because he thinks it’s what you need right now. The only way most people can get you to reveal your true feelings is by getting you fired up.

“I’m not sulking!” You move to the side of his bed and start talking with your hands like you always do when you’re passionate about something, “You’re the one that nearly got themself killed out in the field today.”

“What, so you're mad I took a hit? So, what, it happens all the time, get over it.” He says with a roll of his eyes.

“No-no, that's not, that's not what I’m talking about Bakugo.” You say, awaiting a response from him. All he does is shrug his shoulders, when you realize you aren't getting a proper response you continue, “You-you took the hit for me, why would you put yourself in danger like that?” He sees your eyes start to water, but no tears fall. They sit there at the brim of your waterline ready to release everything pent up inside. He supposes his heart sort of feels the same way. Ready to unleash every emotion that has been stored up inside for so long, yet there is still something holding it back. Maybe he’s embarrassed or thinks it’s unnecessary, which is probably how you are feeling about releasing your tears at this moment.

“Cause I didn’t want you to get hurt, dumbass. You wouldn’t have been able to brace for the impact, but I was because I knew it was gonna happen, it would have hurt you worse than me.” He says, but what he really means is that it was because he cares more about your comfort and safety than his own. He sees you mulling over his words, processing everyone individually and trying to interpret exactly what he means.

“Fine, I can accept that. I have a question for you though, what did you mean when you said-” You are abruptly cut off to the sound of the door opening. The doctor, Deku and Icy-Hot walk in, much to Bakugos displeasure.

“Glad to see you are up Bakugo!” The doctor says, flipping through his papers attached to the clipboard he’s holding, “Your parents are on their way, but before they get here, I want to run some additional testing. You three should probably head back to UA, Bakugo is likely to return by tomorrow morning if all is well.”

The doctor ushers the three of you to the door, he watches you cross the room and get ready to close the door behind you, but before you do, you give him a small smile, the tears at your waterline are gone.

The Fifth Time:

As a last hurrah before the school year comes to an end, class 3-A decided to go on a camping trip for a three-day getaway. The class started by loading all their supplies off the charter bus and completed their three-mile hike to the camping ground they rented out. Everyone stayed busy until the early afternoon setting up their tents, getting logs for the fire pit, finding the bathhouse and scoping out the nearby lake.

When everyone was just about to get settled in, Mr.Aizawa reminded everyone that UA was only able to grant this excursion because he promised the class would be doing some endurance training while they were there. So, the class was ordered to go on a run on one of the trails. Little did they know it was by far the longest one there and it took them until the sun was about to start setting to complete. 

“Good job everyone, now head to the showers you all reek,” Mr.Aizawa says, covering his nose slightly, “Once you're all done everyone will help with dinner preparations.” 

Once the class is dismissed and everyone takes turns cleaning up, Iida takes it upon himself to assign everyone jobs, so the preparations go smoothly.

“Shoji, Koda and Tokoyami you will be in charge of setting the tables, Sato, Tsu, Kirishima and Bakugo are on grilling duty and y/n, Hagakure, Todoroki and I will be doing food preparation!” Iida announces, Bakugo eyes Todoroki and him talking with one another, “Actually I'll have Todoroki and Bakugo switch places, in the name of efficiency! Everyone else is in charge of setting up the campfire.” Bakugo walks over to his assigned station and sees you and Hagakure unloading the groceries onto the pop-up table, he slots himself in the space to the left of you and takes an extra bag from your hands. He pulls out a few eggplants, zucchini and shishito peppers.

“Well, what do we start with?” He asks, not really to anyone in particular.

“I was thinking that Hagakure could rinse off the vegetables while I scrub them and then you can chop and then you hand them to Iida so he can season them.” You say.

“That sounds like a very efficient plan y/n.” Iida praises you; Bakugo can’t tell if you're blushing at Glasses, or if it's just the sun, he’s hoping it's the latter.

When the four of you begin, Hagakure, you and Iida begin easy conversation, he finds himself unable to partake in most of it because every time you pass him another vegetable your fingertips brush is own. It has his brain short-circuiting and he’s unable to comprehend what exactly is being talked about, which is proven to be problematic when you ask him a question that he doesn’t know the context to.

“Bakugo, are you gonna join?” You ask him, he can tell you’re looking at him, waiting for an answer, but he just keeps his focus on chopping.

“Join what?” He responds.

“We're all gonna hang out by the lake tomorrow!” Hagakure says excitedly, “Were you seriously not listening that whole time?” 

“Yeah whatever, I’ll be there.” He responds.

“Good, I'm glad.” He hears you say almost in a whisper. He pauses his movements and takes a look at you, your face is beat red, and he thinks your hands look a little shaky, but then he realizes his are too and he tightens his grip on the knife. 

Once dinner is done and the sun has fallen, everyone gathers around the campfire to roast marshmallows and hang out. By this point there’s multiple conversations happening and it’s all a little difficult to keep track of, besides the one he sees you and Shinsou having.

You’re leaning closer to him in your seat and then Shinsou says something you find particularly funny, it has your shoulders jolting, eyes watering and a big smile on your face. He hates it. Not because you are smiling, but the fact that it’s because of someone else and not him that he finds an issue with it. He needs it to stop, or he might go crazy, so he walks over to your seat.

“Come get more firewood with me.” Is all he says before he’s walking away, he hears you following behind him almost immediately, “You and Shinsou seem awfully close.”

“Uh yeah I guess so?” You sound estranged, “I mean we are friends.”

 All he does is grunt in response as he begins cutting some firewood. He can feel the jealousy radiating off himself, he hopes you can’t. When he hands you a piece of wood you speak up again.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Well then why did you ask?”

“Why are you reading so far into this, huh?” He fights back, “I don’t care if you two are together, it was just a statement. Now get over it.”

He sees your entire demeanor has changed. Your shoulders have slumped, your face has fallen, and you have turned away from him. You look like he’s just killed your dog. He goes back to cutting firewood and once you have gathered all you can carry, you storm off, back to the fire pit he supposes. When he gets there a few minutes after you, he sees you aren’t there, and neither is Mina.

“Bakugo, what happened?” Todoroki asks him.

“Nothin’ happened; the hell are you talkin’ about.” He says back, with a little bite to his words. 

“She came back without you, so Mina asked where you were, and y/n just walked away. She looked pretty upset.” Todoroki responds. Bakugo’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach, did his words really affect you this much?

“Like I care.” His words betray his heart, “I’m going to bed.”

He unzips the tent and crawls into his sleeping bag. Unfortunately for him it’s a restless night, filled with tossing and turning, and feeling regretful for his heart fleeing so far.

The next afternoon, the entire class spends the day hanging out by the lake. Some of the class is playing beach volleyball, a few people are swimming, some others are tanning on the sand and then there's you, making a point of talking to every guy in the class besides him. 

He pretends not to notice the way you laugh at nearly everything Denki says to you, he ignores the fact that you asked Ojiro to help you get some more towels for the rest of the class, he tries to forget the hug you gave Sero after he scored the winning point in the volleyball match.

However, the one thing he cannot get over is that he knows you are doing all of this because of him, it’s his own fault, he thinks the torture is deserving. But what he doesn’t deserve is that you look so good hurting him. The sun brings out the color in your cheeks, the bikini top and shorts you are wearing compliments your skin and you look happy, being around everyone other than him. 

The rest of the day is spent in agony, and it follows him even when his head hits the pillow. He can't stop thinking, his thoughts are running rampant. So, he sneaks out of the tent, trying not to wake up Kirishima and walks over to the dock. He sits down and takes a deep breath. He looks at where the darkness of the sky and the lake meet. It isn’t hard to see because of the soft glow the moon is casting overhead.

He is left there, sitting with his thoughts, trying to find some sort of solace when he hears the creaking wooden floorboards behind him. He probably woke Kirishima in the process of leaving, and he knows the red head is too good of a friend to not go searching for him.

“Hey.” He hears, but it’s coming from a voice much to feminine to be Kirishimas, he sees you lowering yourself to sit next to him, your feet are dangling above the water, and you lean back on the palms of your hands, “What are you doing out here?” “Nothin’.” He sighs, he doesn’t have the heart to say why. All you do is hum in response and look out at the lake with him. Just for a second there’s a comforting silence between the two of you, but it is soon disrupted when his chest starts feeling tight and violent butterflies swarm his gut. 

His heart rate is picking up and he’s starting to sweat, but he knows the sun isn’t to blame this time. It's you. The only one capable of making him feel like this. It’s intense and anxiety inducing, and he can’t imagine there will ever be a day where this goes away. He needs to get rid of it, so he thinks a swift confession and quick rejection will be the remedy.

“y/n.” He starts with your name, easy and familiar, the sound draws your eyes to his own, “I’m gonna tell you something and-and it’s okay if you don’t say what I want to hear or if you have nothing to say at all.” 

Your eyes go wide, and he gives you a hard look, he lets out a deep breath and finally unravels is heart like he has been wanting to do for so long now

“I don’t know how or when it started, but every time I see you, I want to see you more. I like seeing you smile, but I really like it when it’s because of me. Your determined, smart and so fucking pretty that even a complete idiot could see it.” He lets out a deep breath and his eyes are covered with a glassy sheen, all you do is look at him, “And I know you don’t feel the same, but I needed to say it so you can put an end to this feeling that I have every time I'm around you.”

“Bakugo…” You say his name and the corners of your lips are turning up, “You actually feel that way about me? This isn’t a joke?”

“Why the hell would I joke about this?” He scoffs, turning away from you and back towards the lake.

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe it's because I feel the same way and always thought it was unrequited.” You say, and that gets him to look at you again, he’s really hoping this isn’t some sick joke, “I think you're really nice. You always hold the door open for me, you took a hit for me on our mission, and you-you once told me something I really needed to hear, and it changed my perspective on so many things. You make me feel valued.”

He thinks of those examples, he remembers all of them so clearly. He never had to think about doing anything for you, it’s automatic, he likes making you happy. So, when he grabs your face with his hands and brings the pair of your lips together, he also hopes this makes you happy. 

Your lips are soft and plush, unmoving. He is testing out the waters between both of your feelings now, trying to mend them together with one simple act. He pulls away. Your face is still being held in his hands, and yours are on his wrists. He looks at your expression and you are fully smiling, all because of him, his heart swells in his chest.

The feeling he now describes as butterflies in his gut never ceases, but he learns to like it because he is with you, and he now knows you feel like that when you are with him as well. 

visit my: masterlist

a/n: I am so sorry for the delay on getting this fic released, I expected it to be a lot shorter and I got so busy I just couldn’t find the time for it. However, I hope you enjoyed this read ! 

sidenote: I also head cannon this to be an alternate universe to my fic Only Ones Who Know.

taglist:  @mysideeffectsofyou 

[doukeshi-kun]

THE OVERCOAT — mostly yapping

i'm still sane about nikolai's ability. i'm gonna ramble here because i know nikolai better than asgr sensei himself LMAO. also, please note that i am mostly using manga panels for references because that's like the most canon. yippee i'm using the normal font.

this is not entirely a definitive theory or anything. i'm horrible in writing essay. i just want to create a conversation regarding his ability :3

first, let's establish that: he can definitely use his ability without his cloak. (why he looks big in suits omg pin me down pls)

which means he is a LIARRR RAAAAA

(technically not because it is true that his cloak is connected. it's just that he doesn't mention about the ability is not restricted only to the cloak)

now, i think his ability is either:

A. he has a pocket/personal dimension (like lucy's) but can only be accessed through clothings, not restricted to his cloak. like if you're tiny enough to fit his pocket, you might slip into his personal dimension. and i like to think that his personal dimension can be anything he wants. one day it's a big mansion with things he has stored inside scattered all over the floor. and the next day it is probably a circus tent with creepy mannequins around. who knows. i think that's cool. great fanfic source lmao

there are a few similarities between The Overcoat and Anne of Abyssal Red—they are a type of personal dimension and time flows differently than the real world.

some key differences could be that: Nikolai may or may not change the appearances of his personal dimension. The only way to enter his dimension is through clothings/fabrics. Nikolai can still access his dimension without having to teleport himself fully to there. Obviously he doesn't have a big monster waiting in his dimension. He also doesn't have fancy mechanisms like prison door or things like that. His dimension is literally just a fancy storage room.

i remember, a few people here have mentioned that time does not flow in Nikolai's pocket dimension. there are multiple evidences of this. this poll he unleashes moves on a very great speed. he also mentioned that he can dump a blast of explosion just like that.

he could be dropping the poll from a great high and as soon as the dropping poll slip into his dimension, the momentum and velocity stayed the same. he could be pulling out a safety pin of a grenade and put them into his dimension, and he can just immediately unleash an unsafe grenade right onto his opponent.

—

B. when there's an entrance, there is an exit. the core of his ability is essentially portal creation. as long as the portal is on, things are still connected (perhaps it isn't restricted to a clothing at all. perhaps he severs his own hand to make a gun appear elsewhere). when he closes one connecting portal, the matter trapped within it will get spliced too.

the most prominent example is atsushi's leg.

atsushi's leg is still connected to himself. the portal is 'connected'. and once nikolai severs it or closes it, the object trapped in that portal is also severed. if we apply this logic, it means that atsushi's bone and flesh are literally exposed openly which makes me gag a bit.

by this logic, nikolai can literally sever anything as long as you are within 30 metres. imagine he creates a 'portal' between your head and neck. he could behead people just like that. i think that will be very cool to see. i mean, he already did so in his chainsaw escape trick, which he has a gap between his body and someone else's—which you know what, i feel that the trick is pulled last minute. nikolai is likely intended to be killed off right then and there idk. wouldn't it be more logic to say that he severed his own body like how he did to his own hand? he can already sever and keep his hand connected, it's not impossible for him to do the same for his whole body.

i like to imagine that in this murder when he 'skinned' someone alive.

nikolai probably creates a portal on the victim's body, which allows him to pry open the skin from inside out. imagine you're being tied up and a pair of foreign hands or blade suddenly appear out from your own body and tear your skin apart.

not gonna lie, i feel like fukuchi's sword amenogozen can be totally be replicated by nikolai up to a certain degree. when amenogozen first made the appearance, i literally thought nikolai was helping to manipulate it. i literally thought fukuchi 'borrowed' nikolai's ability or something. nikolai can stab his knife into a fabric or something (an entrance portal) and the knife would come out from inside an organ (an exit portal). the only difference with how amenogozen works and how the overcoat works is that—nikolai just cannot travel back to the past.

i wonder if he can also sever space like akutagawa, but by portal-ing shit

also, i think his ability really doesn't need his clothing to be a medium? because in sigma's case, does nikolai just create seperate portals on sigma's body? connected to what? can he just create random portals onto any space and matter as long as it's within 30 metres? is it really 30 metres? am i tweaking

—

two things can be true at once. now that i'm properly thinking, Nikolai probably does have a pocket/personal and portal creation at the same time because then he can also keep things and link them. i think i am leaning more to that.

Nikolai is already a strong and versatile ability user (that's my man). ngl i am biased but i do think he can take on a lot of characters. his reflexes and timing is very good—as seen during his fight with atsushi and his timing to jumble sigma (mind you sigma falls from the sky in great velocity). besides, nikolai is spontaneous and chaotic—i imagine it would be hard to figure out his next moves because he can unleash literally anything from his cloak. if he can just create portals with less restriction or medium, he can divert attacks.

i can also take nikolai.

what do you guys think :D

[sportswriters]

dating a rival - j. swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x reader | suggestive, a bit smutty | established relationship | wc: 729 | warnings: swearing, dirty talking, sub!jeremy

welcome post!

dating a rival wasn’t easy. when you had to move from north carolina to boston for a job opportunity, being present as a carolina hurricanes fan became impossible. you cheered from the comfort of your home, missing the energy that only raleigh could build at the pnc arena. game day. you were split between your home team and your boyfriend’s performance. the hardest thing to deal was that jeremy couldn’t help being a fucking great goalie. the bruins weren't doing that well, but jeremy blocked every single shot from the opponent. frustrated groans left your mouth the whole game. no water, no pacing around, no hair grabbing were enough to calm you down.

“fuck. jer, why do you have to be so good?” you muttered, answering yourself seconds after, “yeah, that’s what caught my attention in the first place. fuck.”

he texted you as soon as he finished his interview, so you called him.

“hi, baby! congrats on the win, i’m so proud of you for dealing with the canes all by yourself!”

he laughed, knowing how pissed off you probably were for the loss.

“thank you, love. how are you feeling? don’t pretend to be only happy for me.”

“it was a great game, i’m proud of my other goalie too, okay?” you sighed. “you should come over, i’m gonna get us some food. it’s gonna be delivery, though. i have no brain cells left to cook.”

“no plans on poisoning my food?” he joked.

“i have some plans for you, but none of them are deadly.” you bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. lowering your voice, almost as a whisper, you said:  “come over.”

jeremy froze on the other side of the line.

“okay. be there soon.”

after dinner, you talked about the game from two different perspectives. it was chill, a moment to catch up as a couple, some laughs and all of that. but deep inside jeremy couldn’t stop thinking about the real reason you’d invited him over. couldn’t stop thinking of having you all over him tonight after this win.

“i can see your thoughts working, jer. do you want to say something else?”

“i was wondering if you, hum, if you had something other than dinner in mind.”

you tilted your head, faking a confusion jeremy didn’t notice because of how nervous he was.

“well, in fact, i was thinking of congratulating you. but i didn’t want to jump right into it.”

jeremy nodded.

“do you want that right now?”

he was trying to put himself together, finding it hard to do such a thing when your eagle eyes were watching him like that.

“tell me what you had in mind.”

you got up from your cuddling position to sit on his lap. with a soft caress on his bearded cheek, you said: “i’m really proud of you. i’m proud of how fucking great you were out there.” you gave him a peck, his eyes didn’t lose focus once. “so, this is how it’s going to be… i’m going to give you everything you deserve, you’ll decide what it is. i’ll give you everything you want, jer, because you worked for it.”

you adjusted yourself on his lap, getting a helpless moan from him. he was gone already.

“i need you to tell me what you want, baby, i need your words.” your voice turned into a whisper as you got close to his ear, leaving soft kisses on the side of his neck. “want me to start by sucking your cock? let you go all the way down my throat? or do you want me to slide over it right now? i could let you come inside, you know? i think it’s a proper special occasion.”

you could feel him hardening. all the talking with soft kisses were leaving his mind blurred.

“jer, i need your words. this time it should be all about you, then in my turn i would get what i deserve. don’t you think that’s fair enough?” you grabbed his chin, facing his fucked up expression.

you waited for his response, noticing his every move. it was fun to have him like this once in a while, you were going to enjoy every step of the long way.

“please, just… just kiss me and we’ll go from there, okay?” he gulped. “just fucking kiss me right now.”

[biscuitboba]

Not to be crazy about luffy (and zoro) again, but i actually can't stop thinking about luffy and the way he values the people that he holds dear? I think that the more luffy loves someone, the greater the support and respect he will give to the person's ambition.

Remember how a person's dream or ambition is a very integral part of one piece? Thinking about how luffy is probably the person who respects zoro's dream the most (and ofc vice versa cuz THRILLER BARK!) And i just can't-

With luffy we all know that he doesn't really mind dying if it means he's in the process of fighting for his dream, so with the whole zoro vs mihawk fight, luffy of course can only support (from afar) and watch his first mate fight the fearsome warlord.

No matter how much he worries for zoro's life, he just can't get in the way of zoro's dream. He knows that better than anyone not to get in the way of someone else's dream. And their deal (back in shells town) only strengthens luffy's resolve to let zoro face mihawk and not get in his way.

Luffy's concern for zoro is very palpable, but despite this, he stops johnny and yosaku from interfering, making sure that no one gets in the way of zoro's fight. That just proves how much luffy respects his first mate's dream. Like you can see that he is cleary frustrated, clenching his jaw, he is doing everything in his power not to approach his first mate and interfere. But after mihawk slashed his first mate, luffy literally lost it, and well... we all know the rest (he had to intervene)

Im sorry but god, zoro vows to never lose again, him pointing at the sky with his sword as he shouts his words... and of course the iconic moment where for the first time someone calls luffy by his future title, im not normal about it

Also mihawk acknowledging luffy and zoro's compatibility right away will always gets me, cuz honestly dracule mihawk, how???

Real talk, but what i love about zoro and luffy's relationship is how they acknowledge each other's strength. They always say things like "he is strong, he got this", "there's no way he is going to lose", "he will be fine", "it's him, no need to worry", et cetera... Like they have so much trust in each other's strength, that oftentimes they don't even feel the need to worry about the other person, because they are confident with each other's abilities.

But on the other side, sometimes (by sometimes i actually mean quite a lot) they can't help but to feel worried for each other. Especially when the other person gets hurt or attacked right in front of one of them. The worry intensifies when one of them faces a tough opponent or acts rather recklessly. And i think about that a lot.

Ok so, returning to the discussion in my first paragraph, about how luffy will always respect the ambition/dream of his loved ones. Especially if the person is strong, he will really respect that person's strength. A very clear example for this one is after leaving thriller bark and finding out something is wrong with ace's vivre card. The crew asks luffy about whether he wants to go after his brother or not, luffy replies:

Like we all know about how much luffy likes to brag about his brother's strength and also how much he loves ace. But exactly because of that.. luffy chose not to go after his brother at that time.

Now, not to make everything about zolu (who am i kidding? I actually will always make everything about zolu), but thinking about the way luffy put his trust in zoro to fight for his own dream in baratie, and the way luffy feels confident enough to fall asleep for a minute during the fight with big mama and kaido... because he trusts that his powerful first mate will be able to take care of himself, but more importantly, luffy trusts his first mate to keep him safe from danger. In this not essay i will-