#i swear ace was starting to get red in the eyes when he looked at them one last time -

[twistedmir]

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE !

⇀ summary : your partner talks too much, and what better way to make them shut up by kissing them?. (Malleus, Ace, Riddle, Vil.)

⇀ write's note : i have a favorite and its showing.

MALLEUS DRACONIA !

This man, it has already been two hours since he started talking about gargoyles. On any other day, you wouldn't have minded his rambling. But today you were particularly exhausted from babysitting the ADeuce duo, so you could only bear so much.

“ they were originally created as a means of disposing of water, but with time..—” there he goes again, this cute little dragon fae ranting about some random fact about gargoyles. Your head was starting to hurt, you just wanted to cuddle him and let this awful day pass. Despite the growing headache, you didn't have the heart to cut him off.

However, a bulb light up in your head.

You grabbed the fae from his necktie earning a surprise noise from him. You brought him down to your level and kissed his lips. It was a light peck, but you lingered a little bit too long. “ can we go inside now? I want to cuddle? ” Malleus was frozen in place, his lips could still feel yours. He didn't know what to do so he simply nodded, letting you guide him toward the house, your hand in his. Humans were rather bold.

ACE TRAPPOLA !

It was during lunch, your boyfriend's neck was decorated with his housewarden's magic. Ace was complaining—yet again— about how ridiculous the rules are. (something about not eating leftovers that had a green sticker on top of the containers, he swears he didn't know it was someone's else.) His lips were pouting, arms crossed over his chest he looked so cute. Until he opened his mouth to complain this time about Deuce. You sighed, this man always finds something to complain about.

And there he goes again, talking his head off about sevens knows what. This man would not for the sake of it be quiet. You wished to eat in peace, maybe talk with your boyfriend. But he kept going on and on, it was starting to get on your nerve. You love the guy, but he talks too much. Finally, as if the sevens heard your pleas, Ace quieted down. A sigh of relief left you. At last, you could eat—

“ and then Deuce just—” And there we go again. A bulb light up, it'll be funny to see him match with the collar on his neck. Moving closer to Ace, the boy not noticing your approaching figure still going on about how much of an idiot the blueberry boy is (his words.) your hands cupped his cheeks, ceasing his chatter. You lightly pecked the soft lips, pulling away after a short time. The boy was stuck speechless, his mouth closing and opening like a fish, face as red as the Heartslabyul's warden. A chuckle slipped past you, how cute.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS !

In your defense, Ace payed you. He knew how soft the warden goes on you whenever a rule is broken by you. Which is why, the first year though it was better for you to paint the flowers in his place. Riddle was unaware it was Ace's turn—for the first time— so, imagine his surprise when he saw how wrongly you painted the roses. It wasn't such a deal, but it bothered him how dangerously close you were to falling from the ladder. Riddle walked up to you, keen on lecturing you all about safety. Until you wondered if his face can match his hair.

“ How many time have I told you to be careful? You know this ladder is not in the best shape, I wouldn't want you to match it's state. ” The housewarden was scolding you for being careless. While your eyes were focused on his, your mind was wandering somewhere else. Thinking back on Ace's words, you were curious just how far was Riddle lenient on you. A smirk formed in your face.

The Housewarden wasn't aware of the Adeuce level of mischief stirring up in your mind. Closing the distance between you, relishing in the small stutters in his words, you placed your lips on his owns.

It was quiet. Maybe he did let you go with anything—

“ OFF WITH YOUR HEA—”. nevermind.

VIL SCHOENHEIT !

Vil was lecturing some first year about the proper use of skin care. The poor first years were so frightened by his harsh scold and cold voice that when they saw you they pleaded you with their eyes to help them escape from this hell. You took pity on them, Vil, even after his overbolt, still couldn't get rid of some of his habits. Mainly his harsh scolds, but he made progress. The first years looks frightened yet still listen to him. Before, some even cried while others were crushed by his words. So you saw this as a progress of some kind.

Walking up to them, you taped the beauty on his shoulder, making him cease his talk and turn to look at you. He quirked an eyebrow at you, his hands unconsciously finding yours. He was waiting for you to speak, you always taped him when you wanted to talk.

Your heart swell at his small yet meaningful gesture. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time for you. Even when he was scolding his juniors, you clearly saw how his eyes soften at the sight of you. (you made a mental note to pamper him later today in his room).

You signalled him to lean down, which he did despite the obvious confusion. Hands finding their place on his cheeks, cradling Vil's face. You laid your lips on top of his, eyes widening at you actions. The first years took this as a sign and quickly left.

After the initial shock, Vil grumpily returned your kiss. His clean hands pinching your cheeks. “ Honestly, just what am I going to do with you... ”. Even though he was complaining, you didn't miss the pinkish colour at the tip of his ears.

©— twistedmir. 2024 / DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARISE MY CONTENT IN ANY WAY.

[alexa-fika]

Could i please request a fem!child!reader who's picked up swearing with the whitebeard pirates?

Reader sorta knows what it means but also doesn't,

Also flips people off mid convo, (doesn't know what means but thinks it's funny.)

And when she gets angry/annoyed she is kinda a savage, like I can imagine reader with ace (and any other characters) then a group of pirates starts threatening them but reader is just going ham with the insults.

Puppy Escapes ( Shanks x gn!reader x Whitebeard pirates)

Part 1 ( Can also be read as a stand alone)

A/N I am combining these two requests, I kinda change some buts since I would be crushed if Dokucha actually rejected their families love so they came back with something else knstead! Iy’all seemef to like the first one so hopefully you like this one to, I think I COOKED just like Shanks is gonna be COOKED 😂

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drink the sky and @/firefly-graphics

Shanks stared owlishly at the child before them, having just found them in one of the many crow-nests that composed the Red force.

"Boss, what is it?" he heard Lucky call from the ship's Deck.

"My doom," he replied morbidly, fully jumping into the crow's nest and kneeling down next to the child who had the courtesy of at least looking remorseful.

"Dokuchaaaa," he called, stretching the last syllables of their name as they noticed them trying to avoid his stare.

The child, who by now had turned into a flustered mess, both at the fact that they had been busted and that they had gotten busted by the man with whom they were infatuated.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see Mister Shanks again," they mutter.

Shanks lets out a huff but cannot help to give the child a slight grin.

"Your brothers banned you from seeing me again?" he asked, letting out a small laugh as they nodded sadly.

"You know they really won't be happy with this."

"I don't care! Big brothers were being meanies! I just wanted to see Mister Shanks, but they won't let me! I hate them!" they exclaimed

"Come on, Dokucha, I know you don't mean that, do ya?"

"No... I don't," they sniffled.

"It's okay, I know you love your brothers; they love you too. They just worry for you."

"I love them b-but I also love Mister Shanks," they called as they burst into tears and ran towards the man.

"There, There, it's alright," he whispered as he patted the child's back, calming them down as he made his way down the crow's nest, the child held tightly in his hands.

"Come on now, why are you crying?"

"B-Because I said that I hated my brothers! I didn't mean it! I love them so much!" They sobbed

Shanks let a small snicker at their troubles as he continued to rub their back.

"They're gonna be mad at Mister Shanks now, and I won't be able to see you!"

"Already breaking hearts, boss?" Yassop merrily called, letting another belly laugh as his Captain just rolled his eyes at his statement

"Listen, Dokucha, don't worry about that. We will get something figured out, but for now, how about you enjoy your time here? What do you say? Want to be my assistant today?"

They rubbed their eyes furiously at their statement, trying to erase the remains of their previous outbursts, a few rogue sniffles still escaping them, much to their chagrin.

"I get to be Mister Shanks's Assistant?"

"Think you're up for it?" he questioned, lowering them to the floor and continuing to hold their hand.

"Yes, I'm up for anything that Mister Shanks asks of me!" They happily agreed

"Hear that, Beck? I got me an assistant, and they actually appreciate me."

Said man, rolled his eyes as he shook the ashes from the tip of his cigarette, bringing it back to his lips and glancing at the pair

"Better escape while you can; that one right there is a hassle. Too high-maintenance"

"Hah?!"

"Yes, But he's a handsome hassle!" Dokucha piped back with a grin as they hugged his much larger hand against their cheek.

"O-Oi, are you insulting me or complimenting me here?!" Shanks cried

-

"Now you've done it, Akagami!" Ace growls, jumping into the Red Force, followed promptly by Thatch once it had pulled closer to the Moby Dick

"I don't care if you're my brother's savior; you're not getting away with stealing my baby sibling!"

"Now, Now it was just a misunderstanding," He calls a laidback smile on his face as the young men stomp his way.

"Like hell it was!" Ace hollers, reeling a fire-filled fist.

"Brother Portgas D Ace!" Dokucha calls, halting the man on his step

"Oh, Looks like you're in trouble now," Shanks calls, covering his snickers with his hand as the child marched to the nervous fire user.

"Don't you dare hurt Mister Shanks!"

"Why not Dokucha?! This creep stole you from us," Thatch cried.

"Because you'll damage his pretty face!"

"That's the only reason?!" Shanks exclaimed mortified

"Of course not, Mister Shanks! it's because I love Mister Shanks!" They exclaimed, running his way and attaching themselves to his leg, much to the horror of the two commanders

"I'm not sure if that makes it better," he huffs out.

"Dokucha..." Thatch cries, falling on his knees as tears begin to fall down his face comically

"I think this time my heart is really broken," he sobs.

"Hey, Dokucha, I will see you later, okay? It's time to go back now," he murmurs as he kneels beside the kid.

" B-But I don't want to leave Mister Shanks," They cried, their tiny hands clenching into fists as small tears began to pool at the edge of their eyes.

"I will see you again, okay? I think your brothers really need you now."

"They need me?" they questioned, glancing at the irate Ace and a still knelt Thatch.

"Of course, they need someone to keep them in line, think you can do that? It's your next task as my assistant."

"Leave it to me, Mister Shanks!" they exclaimed, wiping off their tears as a determined look appeared on their face.

"Atta Kid," He cheered, rubbing their head.

"I will see you soon, okay?"

"Like We will let that fucking happen" Thach growls pulling out his swords

"Alright, enough of this," A voice cuts in

"Akagami, please return our sibling to us, Ace; Thatch, we're done here," Marco orders as he lands on the ship's bow, causing the Red Force to sink slightly, bouncing back to the waves as it tried to withstand the sudden arrival.

"Ah, Marco, it's not too late, you know; how about you join me and bring your sibling with you."

"Screw off, Red-haired," he answered scowling as the Captain just sent a grin his way, giving his last goodbyes to the small kid as they ran to the Chef, who hugged them tightly, rubbing their cheeks together ask he continued repeating how much they missed them as he made his way back to their galleon.

-

"You are grounded."

"But Papaw!" they whine, looking up at the old giant.

"Not buts. You are grounded for a week, and that is final. For the following week, you will be accompanied by either me or one of your brothers at all times."

"But that's so fucking unfair!"

"..."

"..."

"MY BABY, they tainted you!!" Thatch cried, shaking the child with tears cascading down his face

"Brother Thatch?" they question, confused, their mind becoming dizzy at the motion.

"Stop it, you idiot," Marco called, hitting the back of Thatc's head, causing the latter to release Dokucha only to turn to him with a scowl.

"Damn you, Marco! Let me lament myself; they have tarnished their pure heart," he cried, throwing himself on the ground once again.

"...I'm going to kill him. I am going to roast him alive and give the fishes a barbecued meal of a lifetime," Ace growled.

"What the hell is going on?" Dokucha cried.

"Dokucha, stop," Marco called a stern tone in his voice.

"You brat, where did you learn those words from? Was it from Akagami's crew?"

"Ah? I heard Mister Shanks say those words-

"Ace. Let's prepare for that barbecue. I will have them fillet for this," The Chef murmured, a dark aura surrounding him.

"But since Big Brothers say them a lot, I thought it was okay..."

"..."

"Dokucha, who exactly did you hear say those words?" Whitebeard asked, a glare in his eye as he questioned them

"Big brother Thatch and Big brother Ace!" they cheered.

"..."

"Dokucha. Will you go find Vista for now? Do not leave his side; you are still grounded, Marco called, watching as they stomped off with a pout on their face.

"Assholes," They mutter.

"Keep it up. You just earned another week of being grounded," Marco called.

"But Brother Marco, I don't know what words I can't say!"

"We will continue this discussion later. For now, if you don't know what it means, then you don't say it understood."

"Okay.." they mutter, walking away to find the swordsman.

"Marco, make sure you have the clinic ready," Whitebeard called as he glared down the two wide-eyed and sweating commanders.

"Will do pops."

"Ah-wait..wait a second Pops-

That day screaming and pleas for mercy from the two commanders reverberated across the sea, reaching the ears of the Red Force vessel as they departed from the Moby Dick's location.

"Hmm, looks like that old man found out who was responsible for the child's colorful language," hums Shanks as he leans back on the chair he laid on, downing a cup of sake as he did.

Here we go! Guess Shanks is not the only one getting Cooked! Good thing they have a express healer on watch! Thatch and Ace will definitely need them!

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[acesofspadess]

Teamwork

Ace Giovanelli

The Mexico GP brings up more questions than she could answer

warnings: cursing, talks of crashing, max and lando (they need a TW themselves)

Post qualifying conference 

“Welcome to the post qualifying conference…” 

Soon after questions were asked from the floor…

"Question for Lando,” someone said, “How do papaya rules take place tomorrow being in the same row with Ace?”

Lando shrugged, lifting the mic, “They don’t.” He said dropping the mic, saying he was done with that question and every further one that someone may have wanted to ask.

~~~~

The morning of race day Lando and Ace were walking hand-in-hand water bottles in the other as the walked with Rachel who was interviewing them. Ace was finishing her answer when Carlos walked by and ‘dick-tapped’ Lando who buckled into his girlfriend.

Ace and Rachel both laughed as Ace yelled after him, “That’s my job, Carlos!” Which got a laugh from him and Lando who had once again paused leaning into his girlfriend. “He got you good there didn’t he?” Rachel asked and Lando chuckled. “Karma.” He said, making Ace laugh, “That’s what you get for starting it.”

~~~~

Ace and Lando stood next to each other by Ace’s car having their pre-race talk as always, they were shorter on time so their helmets were half way on.

“How do you always look so good in fireproofs” he murmured, leaning close so only she could hear.

Ace’s laugh came as she shook her head, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Lando, if you don’t stop flirting on the grid, I swear I’m telling Zak,” she teased, though the grin on her face was undeniable.

“Oh, come on. I’m just giving you a little pep talk before the big show,” he replied, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

“Yeah? Well, here’s your pep talk—don’t go doing anything stupid against Max,” she said, her tone serious but soft, knowing the heat of the fight ahead. “Just… be safe, okay?”

He glanced away toward the Red Bull on the front row, then back to her, nodding. “I will. But you know I’ll do what I have to,” he replied, a flicker of determination in his gaze.

Ace sighed, torn between frustration and understanding. She knew it was the sport, the competition, but every time she was reminded, her heart twisted. Still, she gave him a small, supportive smile. “Then go on, show them what you’ve got. I’ve got your back.”

He squeezed her hand quickly before stepping back, flashing her one last smile before they turned to their cars, ready to chase the thrill of the race.

They stayed in their order through turn 1 until Carlos went off track and had to give his position back to Max. 

“Safety Car is out Ace, VCARB and a Williams in the back.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is out of the cars.”

They were under the safety car until Lap 7 and then they continued to race. Ace was close to Lando but wasn’t able to pass him. Carlos took the lead back from Max a few laps later but Ace was still chasing the three ahead. Lando was getting closer to Max and when he went for the overtake Max forced him off the track causing Lando to drive through the grass.

“Lando was ahead at every moment, Max forced him off. He’s going to end up in a wall!”

“Yep, we’ve seen it.”

“Tell them to look at my onboard, it’s very visible.”

“Head down Ace.”

Lando gave Carlos his position back but the fight between Max and Lando wasn’t over as Max went back for the overtake  taking them both off track.

Verstappen throwing it to the inside- BOTH are off! Extraordinary! Elbows are out, brawling between the two of them- and Ace Giovanelli takes advantage to get up to second position, how about that!

“What the fuck is going on infront of me?!”

“Yeah Ace, working on it, P2. Head down.”

For the viewers at home who aren’t well versed, that was Ace Giovanelli, Lando Norris’ teammate and girlfriend. 

Ace is always vouching for him, the two of them are duo you don’t want to mess with.

Never get on Ace’s bad side, especially when it comes to Lando.

But even when it’s not Lando, Ace is always on her radio saying what it is and what it should be.

You gotta love her, she never fails to make the race interesting.

Ace was gaining very well on Carlos, and without getting into an accident, but managed to get very close.

“Closing the gap, please be careful.”

Ace backed off slightly but enough to keep Carlos in her sights.

“Verstappen now has a 20 second penalty.”

“Then why the fuck is he still behind me?!”

As we said earlier, always a good race when Ace is on the radio.

She brings up a good question, Max knows he was in the wrong, and held on and still holds onto that third place position…

A few more laps just holding position came and went until Rupert was back in her ear. 

“Lando behind, Verstappen in pit.”

“I’m not even going to say anything. Gap?”

“6.3”

Ace was losing time to Carlos ahead of her. His pace was just much faster than hers. Lando boxed behind her on lap 30 and she understood why, but she was still in the race. She was boxing a few laps later…

“Ace, pitlane.”

…but so did George, which meant she kept her position in P2. but she was now 31 seconds behind Carlos.

Carlos boxed, a lap later.

“Gap?”

“8.5”

She looked in her mirrors a few times confused.

“Gap behind, you muppet.”

“4.8.”

Papaya like Papaya.

Everyone is a Lando and Ace fan, even if you don’t like McLaren, chances are you love Ace and Lando.

The laps got tricky as she was too far from Carlos to race, but too far from Lando to defend. Tire’s were her number one priority.

“Lando closing, 4.3. If you can push, push.”

She did start to push, and did so very well for around 10 laps. She saw Lando on the big screen during the straight and a feeling she hated hit her hard. This is racing, you need to be selfish. She tried telling herself. Lap 60 she looked at her dash.

“Lando behind, in and out of DRS, you are free to race.”

The papaya’s once again are going racing!

Ace continued racing, continuously checking her mirrors to see the gap behind. 

“10 laps left, bring it home.”

Ace wondered if she would look back on today's race, how she would feel. What would it look like? How would it change her future?

At this pace, if Lando is fighting for that second place position, it will be down to the final lap, Ace’s pace is just faster than his -AND ACE IS SLOWING DOWN! What is she doing?!

“Ace, you are free to race.”

“I’m well aware.”

She waited for the main straight knowing Lando was in her DRS and shifted to the inside watching him pass.

Ace Giovanelli has LET her teammate pass her down the main straight! There were no team orders, no communication on any end! How have we gotten here?!

“Yeah don’t say anything.” She said before anyone could get on the radio. She was so far from George, she knew the rest of the race would just be for maximum points. 

We need to talk about what just happened in McLaren. Ace moved out of the way on her own.

Ace has stayed in that second position since Max and Lando went fighting in those early laps, there is no reason for her to pull away now versus later in the race. He has no chance at taking on Carlos. 

Which makes us ask even more questions. She’s still within enough time to take that position back from Lando, and she’s just taken the fastest lap. I can’t wait to hear the post race interviews.

More laps passed and Ace saw the number get closer to the end.

“Leclerc pitted for fastest lap, how do you feel about going for fastest lap on the last lap? Tire’s are still good.”

“Yeah, leave it to me.”

Ace built a healthy gap to Lando, trusting her car and tires before pressing on the throttle with as much force as she could muster.

…And Ace Giovanelli is setting purple sectors, rapid sectors, to give McLaren a double podium finish and a point for fastest lap for the constructors that is now between McLaren and Ferrari! That’s a podium finish for Giovanelli, a fastest lap, and the the point that comes with it! What. A. Race.

Ace waved at all the fans as she did her podium lap. As she pulled into the makeshift podium parc-ferme she heard Rupert again.

“P3 Ace, good teamwork out there. You did get fastest lap. Thank you for an amazing race.”

“Yeah thanks everyone for a good race, I know our priorities. All points are good points.”

Ace stopped the car, unbuckled, got out, waved at the uproar of people around her before tackling Carlos. “Carlitos!” She yelled, pulling her visor up as he spun her around. “You deserved this!” She shouted over the roar of cars and fans. Carlos hugged her again and they stumbled when Lando joined them. “Well deserved, muppet!” His helmet and balaclava were already off.

Carlos shook both of their heads before walking off towards his team. Ace and Lando walked behind him to the podium stands as she took her helmet off then her balaclava off lethargically. “I can breathe again.” She laughed, putting her helmet down and stuffing her gloves and balaclava in it.

“Why did you do it?” Lando asked as she chugged her water. “No one else may believe you’re still in the fight. But I do.” She told him before getting called over for the interview.

“Ace Giovanelli, podium. I know it was a difficult race , you had to manage temperatures at the beginning, and then towards the end there. How difficult was the race for you?”

“Ehh, it was a difficult one. The first stint was all about trying to manage the temperatures which was kind of difficult, but uh, yeah at the end we did the best race we could do. Carlos was just ahead the entire race. He had an amazing race, but yeah, it was a good weekend for the team, overall it was positive.

“You managed to get the fastest lap at the end, was that the intention with letting Lando pass you?”

Ace fixed the neck strap as she listened before answering. “Uh, no. It wasn’t.” She chuckled, “I let Lando through because he’s fighting for something I’m not, that’s really all there is to it. There isn’t a need for team orders when it comes to the obvious stuff.”

“You took the fastest lap away from Ferrari. How does knowing Ferrari is closing in on you in the constructors feel?”

“It’s exciting.” She said honestly, “No one joins racing for the easy way through. Lando and I have good pace, we have a good team, we have a good car and we’re ready for the fight.”

“Thank you Ace, and congratulations on the podium.”

“Gracias Mexico!” She said waving while walking off.

Ace stayed for a bit of Lando’s interview….

“...and what are your thoughts on Ace letting you by?”

“Uh yeah, Ace is an important part of our team. She’s brought a lot to the team. You have to be selfish in this sport and knowing she gave up her points and position for me anyway, it’s not something a lot of teammates would do, when we’re on track we aren’t dating, we’re racers and that says a lot on who Ace is as a person and as teammate.”

“She said that you were fighting something she’s not, is that something you’ve spoken about beforehand considering Ace is closer to you than you are to Max?”

“No, we've never discussed Ace giving up her position in this race or any race for that matter. We were told to race and Ace did what she did.” 

She was pulled away by her personal team to take pictures- what she assumed Lando was doing when she was being interviewed- before going up to the cooldown room. Her highlight of her and Carlos fighting for a few laps played on the screen. “I thought I had it on turn 4, I was ready but Carlos was just..” She whistled, “But your pace at the end was crazy!” She perked back up. “The wind changed, that’s why they asked you to go for fastest lap.”

“That was the safety car then?” She pointed at the replay and they watched the VCARB and Williams until Lando and Max’s battle played. “Ahh!” He groaned watching him run off the track. “I think I cursed Rupert out when that happened.” Lando chuckled at the second fight and Ace shook her head.

“Carlitos!” Maia laughed as he came in. “What was your tire deg?” He asked immediately. “Wasn’t bad at all actually.”

“You switched to the hards before me no?”

“Maybe a lap before. I think they lasted because I didn’t have to fight off George. That is probably why I managed to steal that point from you, Scarlets.” She pulled his hat over his face.

“Ai!” He said trying to fight her for her hat but she got up to get her water. They spoke about nonsense for a little longer before they lined up for the podium.

Ace walked out waving as she stood on the farthest and shortest step. Maia watched with a laugh as Carlos was raised slowly up by the hydraulics.

After the national anthems and the trophies Ace and Lando looked at each other nodding and shook their bottles hitting Carlos from both sides as Ricky went for Ace and Lando and Carlos tried his best to get them back.

He ran to spray his teams as Ace and Lando shook champagne from their faces. They clinked their bottles laughing, before Carlos sprayed them from behind and they both shook their bottles spraying him again and Ace knew that that picture was getting clipped. 

They took their photo on the podium before walking off messing with Lando and Carlos.

“Hey Ace, a massive race for you today, P4 to P2 then finishing in P3. How was the race for you?”

“Yeah, it was a really good race. We got the maximum amount of points we could have today, Carlos was just at another pace than we could have ever managed. I think for the team it was a great race, we had a much better car than we thought we would have and yeah I can’t complain about much.”

“You gave your P2 up for Lando can you tell us a bit more behind that?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but I knew points wise for the team it would have been the same. Lando didn’t have the pace to catch up to me, for no matter of his own I’ll disclaim, but as I said earlier, Lando is fighting for something I’m not and it felt too selfish to keep that from him, dating or not.”

“And how do you think McLaren is going to do in Brazil next weekend?”

“Every weekend is up for debate. We just have to keep our heads down and put everything we can into every race we have left.”

“Thank you Ace.”

“Cheers.”

~~~~

“A very warm welcome to the top three finishers of the FIA Formula 1 Mexico City Grand Prix. In third place Ace Giovanelli…” Ace wasn’t even paying attention to the introduction as she finished her conversation with Carlos.

The conference was mainly about Carlos, which Ace thought was rightfully deserved. “...it was an important P2 for you today, just how pleased are you with today’s result?”

“Very, very pleased. Um I’m happy, with P2, normally I wouldn’t be, but given the circumstance of how I got here. I can’t complain.” He chuckled looking at Ace who nodded her head shortly teasingly.

“Yeah Lando, you say the second stint was easier but your pace was still off Ace’s, what was going through your head when you saw Ace slowing down?”

“I thought her car failed to be honest.” He laughed and Ace rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “I was like, ‘oh no, what happened, am I next?’ but then I saw her come up behind me and knew we would have to talk after the race.”

“Ace can we come to you now? P3 completes a great day for McLaren. Can we get your take on the race first of all.”

Ace lifted the mic up, “Yeah, I mean all in all it was a positive weekend for McLaren. Maybe not for us personally, Carlos has been strong from FP1 and until the last moment of the race. For myself. During the race I felt I was relatively quick, having a few moments with Carlos, which I hear he did not like-” she nudged him having heard his radio- “but at the end it was it was and I’m very happy for McLaren, very happy for Carlos, he deserves it more than anyone this weekend.

“You’ve probably answered this many times already, but can you tell us what your thinking was behind giving up P2?”

“I don’t think I ‘gave it up’. That makes it sound as if I went for a cruiser, I didn’t.” She chuckled with a shrug. “Thoughts wise, a lot. I wanted to be selfish, get P2 under my name again, but it felt almost too selfish when I’m not fighting for a title, I’m only fighting Charles, and finishing ahead of him is my only goal. As a teammate it felt like the right thing to do.”

“Do you think Lando would have overtaken you if you didn’t let him pass?”

“Uhh,” She paused, thinking about the pace and gap. “Based on the information I was receiving, I don’t think he would have, which is why I did what I did.”

“OKay, let’s open this to the floor.”

Ace was used to getting the least amount of questions when it came to him and Max anywhere close to each other.

“Question for the two McLaren drivers, congratulations on today, you’re both in very good form and McLaren has continued the form through the second half of the season really. How hard are you trying to keep Ferrari away from taking the constructors from you? And are you somehow surprised that you’re now fighting Ferrari and not Red Bull considering how the season has been for all three teams?”

Lando nodded to Ace to go first, “I mean yeah, we’re fighting hard. That’s what we're here to do. I have confidence in Lando and I will continue performing like we did in Singapore, Baku, and Zandvoort. As far as who we are fighting, I don’t think it matters all that much. A fight is a fight.” She shrugged with her hands and Lando chuckled. 

“What she said.” He pointed with his famous smile.

“Question for Ace, when you went through after Max and Lando went off, did you say anything?”

Ace leaned forward, “Sorry can you say that again?”

“When Lando and Max went off track and you passed them, did you say something to yourself? Where you worried that you may have been apart of a collision.

Ace leaned back as she registered the question. “Oh um, yeah of course. Being behind those two is always stressful, you’re always gaging whether you need to speed up and get out of the way, but when that happened I think I said, ‘what the fuck is going on there.’ Oh sorry-” She laughed but then realised what she said and gasped.

“Oh no.” She threw her head back and hit a hand to her hat. “I don’t want to join Max in community service. I was the one who told him how to loop hole it.” She laughed and Carlos and Lando laughed with her.

“You better enjoy it.” Carlos teased making hr laugh more. “Uh yeah, then-

“Beep.” Lando sang teasingly making her chuckle. “Yeah after that I went after Carlos but he was far ahead of me at that point.” She put down the mic with wide eyes looking at Lando.

“Question for Ace. That’s twice you’ve taken advantage of Max and Lando, do you think that the fight is going to the very end, and will be a threeway? Or do you expect to be the clear winner”

Ace raised her brows at Lando as he giggled. “I mean, if they take each other out then you have your answer.” She laughed as Lando rolled his eyes jokingly. “It’s more of a fight between Lando and myself than Max and I. In reality I don’t think about the driver’s championship, I like to think realistically. They would have to have very poor weekends, and I would have to win every race from now on, it’s just not realistic. I just have to focus race by race for the team.”

With one last question to Carlos the conference was over and Lando took her hand as always but she got pulled to the side for her comment and managed to get a way with a warning. 

Carlos had invited them both to dinner and a club that night, Ace knew Rebeca and her would magnetise to each other as Lando and Carlos did. Dinner was nice but Ace loved the club, summer was too long ago for her.

In the club’s neon lights, Ace and Lando moved together, laughter filling the space between them. He spun her playfully, nearly losing his balance when she pulled him back to dance close. Next to them, Carlos and Rebeca were trying to keep up, Carlos’s dance moves were still put together with how much he had to drink. Rebeca was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath, holding onto Carlos to keep him from tripping over his own feet. The boys switched partners and Ace laughed in Carlos’ arms.

“Maybe we should have cut you off at dinner,’” Ace teased, earning an exaggerated groan from him.

“Don’t listen to her,” Rebeca laughed, as they switched again, “you’re doing amazing… at whatever this is.”

Lando grinned, pulling Ace closer as the song switched to a slower beat, his hands finding her waist as they moved together. He leaned in, voice low, “You know, I think we could make our own dance floor later… somewhere a bit more private.”

Ace rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t fight her smile. “Lando! There’s a time and a place!”

“Oh, come on,” he whispered, grinning, “I’m just making sure my best moves are saved for the best dance partner.”

She laughed, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Behave, or Carlos might try to copy you!”

Carlos, catching the end of her sentence, lifted an eyebrow. “What are we copying now? Lando’s... moves?”

“Trust me, Carlos,” Ace said with a smirk, shooting Lando a knowing look, “you’re better off not knowing.”

acegiovanelli posted

liked by carlossainz and other

acegiovanelli Muchas gracias Mexico! Another podium to celebrate before Brazil! Te amo Carlitos! Well deserved (even if you didn't like me racing you)

@/carlossainz @/landonorris @/iamrebeccad

view comments

carlossainz you got to close!

acegiovanelli wimp

iamrebecccad 🥰��

norelli45 here for this dump! carlandace content we deserve

landonorris you stole my picture

acegiovanelli it was on my phone... my phone, my pic

landonorris YOU AREN'T EVEN IN IT

acegiovanelli don't expose the fact you didn't want your own girlfriend in the pic... 😬

landonorris don't start before I vouch for your community service

acegiovanelli sssshhhh you're supposed to be on my side!

mcpapaya54 oh he got you there

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n) ends up in the infirmary because a child wandering around campus bit her.

It turns out that the feral boy is Floyd's and her child from the future.

Request by anon.

"(Y/n), we came as quickly as we could!"

A jolt ran through your body when the door to the infirmary was pushed open with an incredible force. Before you could even begin to recover from the awful noise the hinges produced, you found three figures surrounding your bed.

"What happened to you?" Deuce asked and pointed to your finger in worry. "Someone said you got bitten?"

Ace poked the band-aid that covered the tip of your pointer finger. "Bitten by a feral animal? By Grim?" he asked and began laughing, especially when the cat in question grumbled a few curses of protests.

Much to your amusement, Deuce shot the cat a stern look and wagged his finger in front of his disgruntled eyes. "Grim, what did we tell you?" the blue-haired boy scolded, narrowing his eyes. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you..."

"It wasn't me, I swear!" Grim threw his hands into the air while Ace and you merely laughed your souls out. Your amusement seemed to confuse Deuce, so much that the cat had to explain, "I don't bite people. I have class, you know..."

"Yeah, I was bitten—" you began slowly.

"But you're not bleeding out, are you?" Ace interrupted you and took precautionary step backwards. "And please tell me you didn't get rabies..."

By then, your left eye had begun twitching in frustration — oh, and your ears had begun hurting with all the excessive noise. Before the three could begin arguing amongst each other again, you had already raised your hands to shut them up. "Let me finish my sentences, you idiots!" They quieted down at once, all due to the angry glare you shot them. "No, I got bitten by a child... It was a boy, turquoise blue hair and very very sharp teeth. He couldn't have been older than seven..."

"How... did a child get on campus?" Ace asked with scrunched up eyebrows.

"I don't know..." you grumbled and sank into the soft infirmary bed again — it was much softer than the one back at Ramshackle. After a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and waved the three off. "Just ask Crowley or something."

"And where is the boy now?" Deuce piped up, his eyes flashing with concern. "What if he bites other people? He could seriously hurt someone—"

The red-head rolled his eyes. "It's just a child, you idiot..."

"No, trust me, Ace," you interjected seriously. A series of shivers ran down your back, and something akin to trauma darkened your eyes. "That boy is a menace to society."

"So what do we do now?" Grim asked, panicked.

His blue eyes flashing with utter determination, a bulb seemed to light up above Deuce's head. "We could put up some traps," he suggested while pacing up and down the empty infirmary. "You know, attach some thread to a branch and then prop up a cage. And then use candy as bait."

You clicked your tongue. "That's how you catch a stray cat, not a child..."

°

°

°

"Ugh, why do our professors always give us so much homework? I barely even have time to fulfil my daily squeeze quota anymore! Jade, my whole life is falling apart! What is the purpose of living if I can't have fun?"

"Oh Floyd... please tell me you're finished with the alchemy assignment for tomorrow."

The twins were walking side by side, traversing another courtyard to get to the Mirror Chamber for their shifts at the lounge. Yet, dread already pooled in the depths of Jade's stomach when he looked upon the moody frown on his brother's face. Floyd's mood swings and work didn't mix well at all — it was like throwing oil and water together.

"Nope," Floyd chimed innocently, "haven't even started yet with that stupid assignment."

"The deadline is tomorrow..." Jade furrowed his eyebrows in worry.

His concerned tone merely drew an annoyed scoff from Floyd's pursed lips. "I wasn't in the mood." A whine escaped his lips when he raised his long arms to stretch lazily. His lips twisted downwards into a pout when he suddenly complained, "I haven't seen (Y/n) all day! My little shrimpy would usually bribe me with hugs and what not to do my homework..."

Jade shook his head in disbelief. "By the Great Seven, Floyd..."

Before he could properly begin scolding his brother, a high-pitched voice reached their ears — someone was calling out to them, and the voice was drawing closer. "Daddy!" they managed to discern once the voice was close enough. And almost simultaneously, a young child threw himself into Floyd's arms while continously muttering 'Daddy' over and over again.

Reluctantly moving his arms around the boy to support him, Floyd furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and a tad bit of annoyance. "Huh? What do you want, little guppy?" The sharpness of his eyes softened up though as soon as he found the child's cheeks covered in dried tears. The boy continued wailing and clinging to the Octavinelle student. "Oh my, why are you crying?"

"I-I hurt Mommy earlier!" the boy confessed guiltily. "I bit her! I didn't mean to... I was just so excited to see her again! And I was so happy that I chomped down a little bit too much... It was meant as a love nibble..."

"And where is your mommy?" Jade asked hesitantly.

The boy's mood seemed to increase once he laid eyes upon the other twin. "Uncle Jade! You're here, too!" he exclaimed with a toothy smile.

Floyd and Jade shot each other surprised looks, astonished by the young boy's ease at telling them apart. Yet, with the way he addressed them, they both began to worry.

"I don't remember having a son, Jade..."

"Neither do I."

Before they could ask the child for answers, three figures came running towards them — two Heartslabyul students and a familiar cat monster. All of them were out of breath when they came to a halt in front of the twins.

"Floyd! Step away from that child at once!" Deuce exclaimed and extended his flat hand warningly. "He's dangerous..."

"This little guppy? No, he ain't dangerous at all." A bout of laughter escaped Floyd's lips when he began tickling the boy affectionately. "What's your name, guppy?" he cooed and cradled him gently.

"Nemo!" the boy chimed.

"See?" Floyd drawled. "So cute."

Grim shook his head hastily. "That boy bit (Y/n)!"

The remark caused Jade to tense at once. His limbs suddenly frozen, he only managed to slowly crane his neck at his brother, who was still busy playing with the mysterious boy. Now, on closer look, Jade managed to see the resemblance between the wild boy and the Ramshackle prefect. His disbelief still didn't lessen, somehow, when he carefully asked, "Wait... so (Y/n) is your mother, Nemo?"

The boy immediately piped up happily when that name reached his ears. "Mommy! Where is she?" His toothy smile showed off his razer-sharp teeth. "Is she alright?"

"Great," Ace grumbled under his breath, "so we bought the cage and candy for nothing..."

The revelation had Floyd perking up in utter delight. His bad mood from earlier had disappeared entirely, based on the way he was grinning widely. "Woah, so Shrimpy and I are gonna have little shrimpies together in the future?" Giggles escaped his lips while he threw the child into the air. "I love it! You're making my day, little guppy~"

"If that's the future, you should work hard for it..." Jade muttered mischievously. "Maybe this is a sign by the Great Seven to work on your assignment for tomorrow."

"Nemo, what do you know of alchemy?" Floyd asked, his laughter mixing with his son's giggles. "I'm sure you'll help your daddy work on his assignment, no?"

The question made Jade's smile waver. "Oh, he's hopeless..."

[writtenbymoonflower]

Shaken Soda

You have therapy and Remus is too kind. Remus Lupin x fem!reader. mondern!au

cw: mentions of therapy/mental health issues. Slight mention of unintentional self injury.

780 words

“Thank you, see you next week.” You muttered politely, exiting the small visiting room. 

“See you then.” Your therapist smiled warmly at you. You appreciated the gesture, but wrapped your arms around your middle protectively anyway.

"Bye." The word was just barely a whisper as you turned to walk down the hall, but you were interrupted.

“Oh by the way, we covered a lot today. I’m proud of you, Y/N. Just, make sure to look after yourself extra.” They gave another polite nod and skirted back into their office. You gave a tight-lipped smile at the now closed door before walking down the hall to the waiting area, dreading the walk home in the pouring rain and shivering cold. You pulled the hood of your coat over your head before checking your phone, stalling. 

Hey, dovey. It’s pretty nasty out so I’m going to come pick you up. Be there when you get out. x

You were equal parts grateful and distressed. Happy you wouldn’t be soaked down to your bones, but worried about your boyfriend seeing you in such a raw state. You checked the mirror by the entryway, wiping away mascara residue and pressing your cold hands to your cheeks in a desperate attempt to reduce the redness splotching over your eyes and nose. 

Though Remus would likely see through any attempts at sweeping your struggles under the rug, he was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. 

You listened to the ding of the bell as you swung the door open, walking under the awning to where Remus’ black car was parked. You opened the door, being hit with a wave of toasty AC. 

“Hi lovely.” His amber eyes greeted you with their usual warmth. (Warmth that was pretty much reserved for you).

“Hey Remmy.” You said, much to quiet and reserved for his liking, leaning over the center console to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the spin. You didn’t have to drive in the rain.” Your comment earned an eye roll from Remus, though he was still smiling as he pulled out onto the road.

“Don’t. I get to spend extra time with you, and I’ll never complain about that.” He placed a large hand on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh there. “Almost forgot,” He reached into the cupholder. “Got this for you.” You were handed a to-go cup full of coffee. Your favorite. You swore you could sob all over again. 

“Rem… You didn’t have to.” 

“I wanted to. Anyway it wasn’t completely selfless, I was craving a fog.” You still looked at him all glossy and doe eyed. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was so small. It was only when he looked over at you that he noticed your swollen features and red-rimmed eyes. He could swear there were burns on your cheeks from the scratchy material of your sleeves after being rubbed and wiped raw and cruelly. 

“You doin’ okay, sweet girl?” He tried hard to keep his eyes on the road and stop a notch of concern from appearing between his dark eyebrows, knowing it would only push you more into your shell. 

“Yeah, ‘m okay.” You picked at your nails. Remus took a deep breath. 

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” He started and you tried to keep from wincing. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or didn’t want to tell him what you had discussed, the emotions it brought up, but you knew that when you cracked the lid on your frayed feelings, everything would come out all at once. Tears, murmured fears and all. You were like a pop bottle that had been violently shaken, one wrong move and a mess would be everywhere. “But I want you to know I’m proud of you.” He checked the road around him before making brief eye contact with you. “Really, really proud. I know it can be scary. But also, please know, I’m here if you every need to talk about anythin’. I’ve got you, sweet girl.” 

You nodded as he turned onto your street. You were still feeling raw, but you could feel it subsiding, just by being in his presence. “I know you do.” You looked over at him as he pulled up to your place and put the car in park. It didn’t take many long for you to unclick your seatbelt, leaning over your drinks and wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly. Remus stiffened in surprise, but then hugged you back, smoothing his hands up and down your thick coat. “Thank you.” You whispered into his neck. 

“It’s what I’m here for, lovely. I’m always gonna be here.” 

[cloudcountry]

[inhales]

fem deliquint deuce beating people up with a cool jacket

FEM DEUCE BEING ROUGH N TUMBLE AND GETTIN INTO TROUBLE

fem duece who can't fucking walk in heels but tries her danrdest becuase "honor role students need to be spiffy"

fem deuce who has so many chick and egg themed things (ace makes fun of her stuffed chick)

FEM DEUCE WHO LOVES FLAMINGO BABIES-

fem deuce who squeaks and blushes when you carry her princess style

fem deuce who isn't good at fashion but tries to dress up for your dates

fem deuce who tries to make you bento like her mom did and fails... so you cook together

SUMMARY: some moments you share with fem!deuce

COMMENTS: shes so lesbian to me...i love her.

Her jacket swings behind her like a pair of angel wings as she throws punch after punch, kneeing the guy who bothered you square in the chest. She falls back into a fighting stance as he crumples to the ground, her fists clenched and a splatter of blood across her wrists. She turns to you, short dark blue hair blocking your view of her eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asks, tucking those strands behind her ear, and you can’t help the way your heart lurches when the blood gets in her hair.

It’s not the first time she’s protected you when some guys from another school were just a bit too persistent. You know she’ll lament this fight later and talk about how she’s not a proper honors student, but you’ll be there to convince her otherwise.

She grips your hands like a lifeline, ankles jittering concerningly as she stumbles into her dorm room, kicking the offending shoes off into the opposite wall as soon as the door closes behind her. You purse your lips as she flops on her bed, rubbing her sore feet with her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth. She’s bitten them black and blue again it seems, and you frown.

“You know, Deuce...” you wait until she looks up at you, eyes wide and curious, “You could always start with smaller heels. There’s no reason to wear these monstrosities when they hurt you so much. You could even wear flats!”

Deuce opens and closes her mouth a few times before growing pink, her lips forming a thin line. She didn’t think about it that way, did she?

She regularly wears these little chick hair clips to pull her bangs away from her eyes when she studies. Deuce will forever have the nasty habit of running her hands through her hair and messing up the placement anyway, so you’re not surprised when you find a forgotten pin on your floor or nightstand. Her phone grip is a light blue egg, its shell speckled with darker blue spots. You told her it was cute and she bought you one of your own to get with your new phone, along with a chick phone charm.

She also has a soft spot for baby birds, especially the flamingos in Heartslabyul. Deuce will forever coo about how small and fuzzy and cute they are, petting them softly with the most gentle hands you’ve ever seen.

She swears she isn’t good at fashion but she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen when she steps out of her dorm room, a pair of high waisted black pants and a white lacy top on, the outfit simple but suiting her so well. She rocks back and forth on her heels, the motion awkward in her sneakers (freshly cleaned, you notice with a smile) as she mumbles that it’s her first date, so she tried really hard. You take her hand and pull her closer, swooping her up into your arms as you spin her around. Deuce yelps and clings to your neck, face flushing bright red even when you put her back down. She tries not to notice how lovingly you’re looking at her, or how your expression only gets sappier when she shows you the picnic basket she has in her hands, murmuring something about a homemade lunch she made with Trey to make sure you had the best.

You tell her you’d eat anything she makes you, no matter what.

-> deuce's darlings . . . @vivigoesinsane @deucespadez @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

[macbethsymphony]

charlou my love! I'm about to invade your askbox with all my horny thoughts. Dont' you dare answer them all at the same time, I know you're busy <3

Ok so! As you know I'm rewatching Wano and you know that gif of Marco's mouth? (sent it to you I don't know how many times). Anyways it sent my mind spiraling into what if Marco was angry with you and it just made him snap? My pretty usually composed bird just losing it? I bet he'd fuck good hehe

love ya! -M✨

Millie bb!!!!! I was gonna keep this one really short but you made it spiral out into something almost complete!!!! How dare you?! (jk love you for it)

It's this gif, right? ngl it sends my mind spiraling into unholy territory too

You're infuriating

Marco x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re angry at Marco and he’s angry at you and you fuck. It’s that simple ;)

tw: MDNI, 18+, nsfw, rough-ish angry sex, fingering, p in v sex

wc: 3.2k

It was a well-known fact that the first commander of the Whitebeard Pirates was nearly impossible to anger, notoriously difficult to rile up. Countless people had tried and failed to provoke him. But you? You didn’t even have to try, didn’t have to lift a single finger to bring him to the edge of madness.

"Do you even realize the risk you took back there, yoi?" Marco's voice thundered through the narrow corridor leading to the infirmary, every word laced with barely contained fury.

The stomps of your footsteps against the wooden floor echoed loudly, matching the volume of your voices and punctuating the escalating tension between you. Each of your step left a small imprint of blood, the pain in your leg raging but ignored as wrath blinded your senses.

"I had everything under control," you shot back, your own tone rising in defiance. "Until you—" Abruptly, you halted, turning around and jabbing your index finger into his chest with force. "Until YOU decided to fucking swoop in."

Marco's eyes blazed, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles twitched visibly. "Under control? You call that under control?" he retorted, his voice dangerously low. "You were inches away from becoming sea king feed, and you think that's control?"

The infirmary doors loomed ahead, your destination within reach but forgotten, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "I sure as hell didn't need your heroics," you spat, words dripping with bitterness. "I had it perfectly laid out, and you ruined it."

“Ruined it?” Marco scoffed, his expression darkening. "Your plan nearly got you killed. Again." His statement hung heavy in the air, the weight of his frustration palpable. “When are you going to learn to fucking listen to me, yoi?”

Listen to him? That made you see red. "Listen to you, Marco?" You stepped closer, and he instinctively stepped back, his eyes widening at the pure rage in yours. "You are not MY commander. Ace is." You looked him up and down, a sneer twisting your lips. "I don’t have to listen to a single word you say, pretty bird." The usually playful nickname was now laced with venom as you spat it out.

He regained his footing, stepping forward as you stepped back, the anger in his gaze blazing harsher than you'd ever seen. He started to speak, but you turned on your heel, determined to make your point, your quick steps leading you toward the sanctuary of the infirmary.

"Oi, get back here," he yelled after you. "I’m not done, yoi."

"Oh, fuck you, Marco." You shouted. "As I said, I don’t have to listen to you."

Marco's frustration boiled over. With a swift motion, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to face him. The sudden movement brought you chest to chest, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

“You will listen to me, yoi,” he growled, his voice low and threatening, his breath hot against your lips.

You laughed in his face, a rich, bitter sound. Fucking asshole. With your free hand, you unclasped the holster at your side, expertly cocking one of your guns and pointing it right at his face.

“Unhand me right now, pretty bird, or I swear I’ll fucking shoot.”

His grip on your wrist tightened, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. A manic smile broke on his lips. "You wouldn't dare," he whispered, his voice a mix of challenge and something darker, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your finger twitched on the trigger, but you didn’t pull it. He took a step forward, then another, and another, until he had you flush against the wall. His free hand shot over your shoulder, and he leaned close, effectively trapping you in.

“You will listen to me, yoi,” he repeated, his lips brushing yours.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of anger and something you’d never admit to.

Fucking asshole.

The adrenaline still surged through your veins, the proximity, the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes—it all combined to create a heady, intoxicating tension that made it hard to breathe.

“You think you can intimidate me, first commander?” you whispered, your voice full of insolence. You cocked your head back, looking down at him from your low vantage point. You slid the nozzle of your gun against his neck, across his chest, pointing it at his crotch. “It’s your last warning, pretty bird.”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved, the air between you charged and electric. Then, with a sudden, desperate urgency, he crashed his lips against yours.

It was a violent collision of emotions, a raw, unfiltered exchange that left you breathless. Marco's lips were demanding, his grip on your wrist unyielding as he poured all his pent-up anger and passion into you. And you responded in kind, matching his intensity with your own, all teeth and tongue, clashing and almost snarling into it.

For a moment, everything else drifted away—the battle, your argument, the constant push and pull between you. Your hand fell to your side, gun forgotten and all that remained was the heat of his body pressed against yours, the taste of his lips, and the desperate need to assert your own power in the midst of his.

But you were nothing if not defiant. With a sharp twist, you broke free of his grip, shoving him back hard enough to make him stumble. Your eyes were blazing as you leveled the gun at him once more, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Don't think for a second that you can just kiss me to shut me up," you snapped, your voice trembling with fury.

Marco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a wild, dangerous light in them, a reflection of your own intensity. "And don't think for a second that I won't do it again, yoi," he shot back, his voice low and rough, a deadly promise that shattered the careful balance between the two of you. Slowly he stepped towards you.

Fucking asshole.

You retreated, each step a painful reminder of the battle that had just ensued, leaving smears of blood on the wooden floor that turned into dark smudges on the sterile tiles of the infirmary. Marco's deliberate footsteps echoed behind you as he closed the door, the latch clicking ominously in the small, quiet space.

Locked in a silent standoff, your eyes defiantly held his, the air thick with a volatile mix of anger and desire that pulsed between you. You leaned heavily against the cool surface of a nearby medical cabinet, swallowing hard against the rising tide of pain. The throbbing ache in your wounded leg grew more insistent, a stark contrast to the adrenaline high still coursing through your veins.

Gun held steady, your aim unwavering over his heart, Marco advanced with a dangerous calmness that belied the tension in the room.

“Put the gun down, yoi,” Marco growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble that ignited a primal response deep within you. “I know you won’t shoot.”

Your narrowed gaze bore into his, finger twitching with a tantalizing urge to prove him wrong.

“Not a fucking chance, pretty bird,” you shot back, words edged with defiance. “Not until you fuck off.”

As the barrel of your gun hit his chest, you could see light blue flames grazing his skin.

You scoffed.

Fucking asshole.

He wasn’t taking any chances, huh?

“You won’t shoot, yoi,” he commanded this time. There was an unusual sharpness in his gaze, condescension thick in his tone as he emphasized each word. 

And you hated it.

"You don’t get to order me around." Your finger tensed against the trigger, and as his hand moved to the barrel to push your gun away, you squeezed it.

It all blurred together. Bullets streaked through the air, passing through the haze of blue flames, burying themselves in the wall behind. In a swift motion, he disarmed you, gun falling with a loud clang on the tile. His grip on your wrist was so tight you felt the bruises forming, his other hand tangled in your hair, wrenching you back, your own fingers shooting to his forearm to keep your balance. Your body arched against the cabinet, and he closed in, looming over you, his ragged breaths brushing against your brazen smile.

Fucking asshole.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, drowning out the chaos of your mind as Marco pinned you against the medical cabinet with a ferocity that you didn’t know he possessed. You liked that look in his eyes. Unbridled fury suited him well.

“You fucking shot me, yoi,” he shouted in your face in bewilderment.

“I wish they’d been seastone bullets, you asshole,” you snarled.

He didn’t flinch at the harshness of your tone. Instead his lips curled into a predatory smile. As the shock subsided, amusement and lust swirled and mixed with the anger plaguing his features.

His tongue met your lower lip, then his teeth, taking all the time in the world, relishing the power he held over you in the moment.

His hand in your hair gripped harder, pulling you back further, nails dragging against your scalp. He wasn’t kind and the pain made you gasp, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. Your eyes fluttered close as his lips found yours and his tongue darted in, dominating yours.

The heat of his mouth melded with the anger still simmering beneath your skin, igniting a firestorm of desire that you fought to suppress. But resistance proved futile against the raw intensity of his touch, the taste of him searing into your senses.

Fuck.

Your legs felt weak and not because of the gaping wound on your thigh. The familiar dizziness of lust was starting to overtake the edges of your mind. A muffled groan escaped your throat, half defiance, half surrender as he deepened the kiss, devouring your response with a relentless hunger. His body pressed into yours, every line and angle hard against your own, a testament to the storm of emotions raging between you.

His hand left your wrist, and slid down your side, hairs rising in the trail of his touch. You struggled against the overwhelming pull of him, the magnetic force that drew you closer even as you fought to regain your composure. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, tracing upwards with a deliberate slowness that set your nerves alight.

As his touch grazed the curve of your breast, you let out a low, involuntary moan, the sound mingling with your ragged breaths. Your hands, no longer restrained, buried themselves in his open shirt, nails digging into fabric, pulling him somehow closer still.

He moved your head back, exposing your throat and his lips trailed along your skin. His hand roamed down to your hip, then to the front of your pants, fingers deftly undoing the buttons. He stopped at the lace of your underwear.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, a plea whispered against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. The grip on your hair loosened and you slacked against him slightly. "Tell me to stop, yoi, and I will."

“Oh, fuck you, Marco,” you mewled into him, words muffled as your lips found his again. 

With a growl of approval, he pressed himself closer, his hand slipping past the edge of your underwear. You bucked against his touch, a dangerous need driving you forward.

He took his time, tips of his fingers dragging up your slit, gathering your arousal. He teased and relished the desperation slowly etching on your features.

As you opened your mouth to complain, his fingers found their mark, and you let out a broken cry, the sensation sending shockwaves through you. Marco's touch was skilled, knowing exactly how to unravel you with each deliberate movement.

"Fuck, Marco," you gasped against his lips, your hips moving in time with his rhythm. You felt his fingers enter you, his palm delightfully dragging along your clit. 

Oh gods. You felt your legs start to shake, the sweet promise of rapture so near.

He drank in your whines and mewls, lips moving lazily against yours, his focus entirely on you, fingers working you closer and closer to the edge. His gaze seared in the image of pleasure twisting your features into his mind. So pretty under him. 

The world suddenly ceased to exist, the only reality the heat and intensity of his touch, the way he made you feel alive and on fire all at once. A sharp cry escaped you as you came, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

He quickly turned you around, the edge of the cabinet digging uncomfortably into your abdomen. You dimly heard the rattle of glass bottles and whatever instruments were locked in there, but it didn’t matter. He rolled his hips against yours and you could feel how hard he was against your rear. Suddenly you were ready to go at it again, craving to feel him inside you and you needed it now.

"Fuck me already," you demanded, impatience lacing your voice as you turned to face him. The sight that greeted you made you instantly regret it. His lazy grin of victory made your legs into jelly, and the satisfaction in his eyes ignited a desperate longing within you, making you want to moan his name.

Marco's grin widened, and he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Always so impatient, yoi,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

You glared at him, trying to maintain your defiance despite the tremor in your legs and the pool of arousal he’d just left in your underwear. "Just shut up and do it already," you snapped, words wavering slightly.

He hummed, considering.

His hand trailed up and down your back, dragging your shirt, fingers brushing over your skin with deliberate slowness. Every touch sent a growing need to your core, heightening your anticipation. You let out a frustrated growl, your body aching for more. "I swear, Marco, if you don't—"

“If I don’t what?” His hands played with the waistband of your pants, still stuck against the curve of your hips.  He let them pool at your feet and as he dragged down your lacy underwear, his lips traveled along your neck. “There’s nothing you can do to me little feather.”

You weren’t aware of when he’d undone his own trousers, but you could feel his tip against your folds, your slick coating his length. Your hand shot to the edge of the cabinet for balance, a shaky moan escaping your lips as he pressed against your clit, against your entrance. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see him, but he felt so big between your thighs and so frustratingly good.

You tried to back into him but he stopped you with a bruising hold on your hip. “Didn’t say ya could do that, did I?” he said as his hand tangled in your hair once again, pushing you forward, lifting your hips until you stood on tippy toes.

“I can do whatever I fuckin—” he started to enter you tortuously slowly. “Ah,” you gasped, he was stretching you so fucking much. “F-fuck.” Your thighs trembled and your knuckles went white as you gripped the edge of the cabinet with all your might. It was so fucking much.

“Ya can take it,” he grunted in your ear the strain of restraint evident in his voice. “Fuck that’s it. Be good for me, yoi.”

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he stopped, recentering himself.

You could barely hear the soft unsteady laugh that escaped his lips through your own pants. His hand trailed from your ass to the curve of your spine, firing an electric shock to your core and your cunt twitching around him.

“So fucking wet, and warm and tight.” You could feel the satisfaction in his voice. “Who knew you could be so obedient, yoi?” He punctuated his statement with a slap to your ass that sent you positively keening under him.

You felt some of your slick drip down your thigh and your cheeks heated. You ached to feel him move. “Just fuck me already, Marco,” you pleaded.

He leisurely slid out of you, teasingly unhurried and you felt the absence of him, the growing need to feel him fill you again. He let out a low chuckle as he sensed you spasm against his tip, your body telling all you stubbornly kept to yourself, begging for him in your stead.

“Look at you, yoi.” He palmed your ass roughly, making you wait. “You’re dripping to the floor.”

He slowly pushed back in, the friction against your walls making the world around you go blurry. You were grateful for his hold on you as his pace gradually picked up, entirely unable to trust your own legs. You shook beneath him, completely claimed, your moans sticking at the back of your throat, but he still frustratingly teetered right at the edge, never enough to allow your orgasm to build.

“Please, Marco,” you keened, your voice a high pitch cry you didn’t recognize. “More.”

He snapped his hips at your demand, turning his pace hard and brutal and it was suddenly too much. Every drag of his cock made you see stars, shattered your breath. You sobbed out his name in a desperate plea but instead he brought his fingers to your clit.

The moan you let out was obscene, only enhanced by the squelching noises and Marco’s forceful grunts. You were certain that something had broken in the cabinet, the sound of glass loud but it was evident neither of you cared as he somehow increased his pace.

Your body sought to curl upon itself but you were trapped and it was all too much. You were aware he was almost just as close as you, his erratic thrusts and the way he bit into your shoulder clear indicators.

The world seemed to fade around you and you were suddenly lost in the moment. Every sensation was amplified, the intensity of the waves of pleasure washing over you consuming you. As the tension built to a breaking point, you cried out his name, your body trembling with rapture.

Marco followed soon after, his own climax a fierce, shuddering release that left him breathless and spent. He held you close, his forehead resting against the damp skin of your neck, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Marco muttered, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder before backing off. You whined as you felt him pull out, felt his seed along your thigh. Your legs gave out and he quickly pulled you into his arms before you could hit the floor.

“Real infuriating, yoi,” he repeated, bringing you to one of the infirmary beds.

You smiled as he sat you down and as he made to retreat, you dragged him to you by his shirt. "Right back at you, pretty bird," you replied as you kissed him softly.

It was tender this time around and he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing soothing circles.

“Let me clean that for you,” he murmured, eyes looking at the wound on your thigh. “Wouldn’t want it to get infected, yoi.”

Masterlist

[wisted-twunderland]

What’s in the TWST boys’ makeup bags?

I love that many of the guys in Twisted Wonderland wear makeup and that it’s so normalized. That made me wonder: what’s in their makeup bags?

Ace: Before coming to Night Raven College, he thought wearing makeup was girly. Upon seeing so many of the guys in his dorm wearing it, he decided to give it a try. Uses a red eyeliner pen for his signature heart near his eye.

Deuce: The spade near his eye is actually made with a makeup stamp, since the shape is difficult to get right freehand. He has a minimal skincare routine and often forgets to wash his face, but tries to remember because in his mind, honor students have skincare routines.

Cater: has a lot of half used products lying around, because he always goes out and buys whatever is currently popular on Magicam. Doesn’t leave his room without BB cream.

Trey: Doesn’t wear a ton of makeup, but he does enjoy wearing it from time to time. Honestly he spends more time and energy on dental hygiene. (???)

Riddle: Applies his eyeliner with precision and blends out his eyeshadow perfectly every single day. He likes makeup because he thinks it makes him look more mature.

Leona: Can’t be bothered to wear a ton of makeup everyday, but he does know how to apply it, being a prince. When he does go all out, he likes a smoky eyeshadow and black mascara.

Ruggie: The only makeup he owns is a dried up black eyeliner pen he got out of the clearance bin at Sam’s to wear with his ceremonial robes. He swears it’s perfectly good and it still has product inside, you just have to soak the tip in water for a couple of minutes.

Jack: Doesn’t care much for makeup, but he is a stickler for sunscreen use. He uses one that matches his skin tone and smells like coconut.

Azul: uses more makeup than you might think by just looking at him. He always does his base makeup and likes to use dark purple eyeliner to match his dorm uniform when he is running the Monstro Lounge. His contour is nearly undetectable but if he didn’t wear it you’d notice right away.

Jade: Uses a thin black eyeliner pen to create a shrewd cat eye look. His lips are always moisturized and he always has a high end lip balm in his suitcoat pocket.

Floyd: Thinks makeup is boring. His lips are chapped and the skin on his face tends to be dry and patchy. He claims it’s because he’s a merman living on land but the truth is he just doesn’t care.

Jamil: Putting on makeup every morning before Kalim wakes up is Jamil’s “me” time. His eyeliner game is strong and his contour is on point.

Kalim: He likes sparkly eyeshadows, but Jamil always ends up helping him blend it out. When he does wear eyeliner he is constantly smearing it and Jamil is constantly redoing it.

Vil: His makeup routine is extensive and full of high end products, but Vil can get it done in 15 minutes flat. His skin care routine, however, is another story and the whole process takes 45 minutes, including drying time.

Rook: loves a gradient blended eyeshadow. Draws his eyebrows on every morning after plucking them into oblivion in a fit of passion in his quest for beauty.

Epel: still thinks makeup is kind of for sissies and not manly, but he is starting to change his tune and enjoy it more. Has a bag full of products Vil instructed him to buy and taught him how to use. When he tries to sneak out without it on Vil sends him back to his room and makes him wear it.

Idia: Ortho bought him an under eye concealer for the dark circles under his eyes due to late night raids, but he has never used it. Owns several unopened eyeshadow palettes from crossovers with his favorite anime. He also has several pairs of colored contacts for cosplay, but he has never worn them outside his room.

Ortho: His silicone skin is incredibly high quality and makeup can be applied just like human skin. He likes to apply some cheeky blush from time to time to give himself a more lifelike appearance.

Malleus: Has an extensive collection of makeup, mostly dark eyeshadow palettes. Being raised by Lillia, he has been able to apply a perfect smoky eye since he was only 100. His nails really are naturally black, no polish, but he does file them and apply a shiny clear top coat.

Lilia: Has a huge bag full of cheap eyeshadow palettes that he likes to play with. Doesn’t leave the house without eyeliner.

Silver: wears makeup, although you can barely tell, since he keeps it very natural and minimal. Is very conscientious about only using brands that do not experiment in animals.

Sebek: uses a minimal amount of makeup to look put together; uses excessive amounts of hair gel. He even gels his eyebrows to make them that shape.

BONUS

Grim: washes his face twice a day with his own spit.

[haikyu-mp4]

Knight in a borrowed suit

word count; 1215 – f!reader wearing a dress, inspired by New Girl

He stood you up. After taking up a table for over an hour, sitting in the middle of the restaurant and on show for everyone to watch as you tried your best to stop the tears from escaping, you’re sure that he stood you up. With an elegant dress, hair dolled up and impeccable makeup compared to what you usually did, you had been so excited for this date with a man you truly thought was interested. The two of you had gone out once or twice before and you were hoping it could grow into something, make you forget about that one unattainable volleyball player your heart beat a bit louder for. But it seemed not even people without status were interested for long. Maybe you came on too strong? Did you laugh too loud? Whatever it was, you weren’t sure you deserved this humiliation.

The waiter came over again with the same pitiful smile, and you knew she would politely ask you to leave. With a straightened back and tears at bay, you pursed your lips so she wouldn’t feel too bad about it.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but unless you want to order, we have to give up your table,” she said, trying to speak as low as possible so all the people eyeing you wouldn’t be too entertained.

“That’s okay, I appreciate your patience,” you said, putting your purse on the table so you could pay for the wine glass you had when a voice rang out through the restaurant.

“Wait! I’m so sorry I’m late.” Oh, you knew that voice very well. Your head snapped in his direction, a small tear finally escaping the brim of your eye to trickle down and caress your smile. A very thankful smile.

It wasn’t your original date, it was Miya Atsumu.

He smoothed his hands over his suit, trying to catch his breath as he came over to your side, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before moving to the other side and gesturing to the waiter. His hair was a bit messy, and his tie wasn’t very well tied, but he was handsome nonetheless. It was also Osamu’s suit, so it didn’t fit him like a glove. “Please excuse me and leave the menus. I’ll make sure to tip well for the wait,” he said, more professionally before finally sitting down. Your eyes had followed him the whole way, wide with wonder that he came to save you. It felt like you were in some romantic comedy.

About 1 hour earlier

Atsumu was never happy about that new manager asking you out, and much less about you agreeing to it. Could you not see he was going through a perfectly planned 14-step process of asking you out? You had known each other since the day he started playing for the Black Jackals and he felt like there was a spark between you. He found you beautiful even when you weren’t dressed up for anything special, and you always had a great sense of humour. Nothing could brighten his day quite like making you laugh, a feeling he would even compare to a perfect service ace.

So when he saw that slimy manager in the gym, laughing with his friend after seemingly picking something up when he was supposed to be with you, he had to stop himself from getting violent. “No way man, she was way too much. I swear I’ll hear her laugh ringing in my ears for weeks, and that ain’t a good thing.” your original date said to the other guy, and Atsumu took in a few deep breaths to calm down before running to the locker room. He hit speed dial and held the phone to his ear, happy Osamu picked up quickly.

“What?” he snapped.

“There’s no time to explain, I need you to get me a suit.”

Now here he was, sitting across from you with red ears and a slightly nervous smile. He had finally caught his breath when he looked at you properly, taking in every blink of your eyelashes and how your shoulders looked so kissable under the dress straps. “Wow,” he breathed out, feeling more breathless than he did after running all the way to the restaurant. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you, Atsumu,” you said affectionately, leaning your arms on the table in a desperate attempt to get just a little closer to him. You looked happy, he thought, but it was painted with uncertainty. “But… why are you here?”

Atsumu took a moment to answer, thinking back to what he heard before and trying not to let the angry emotions ruin this moment. “I’m taking a beautiful woman on the date she deserves,” he answered.

You didn’t need to know how he knew you were stood up, because now all you could think of was how real it felt. The universe granted you a chance to pretend Atsumu was there for you and not just because he’s a good guy.

It genuinely felt like that as you talked the night away, sharing food and ordering whatever wine they recommended as you talked about the things you never had time for at work. Your laugh was melodic to him, it’s what he imagined he would hear if he ever got into heaven. Unfortunately, you weren’t quite sold on him being there out of his own interest. So as you two stepped out of the restaurant at the end of the night, you said “Thank you for saving my date, Tsumu. You didn’t have to but I had a great time.”

Atsumu grinned, so hopelessly enchanted with your smile. “It was my pleasure, honestly,” he said, and it felt a bit too polite to you.

“If you want, I won’t tell anyone. You were probably just being nice,” you said with a forced chuckle, revealing more of your emotions than you planned.

“What?” he asked, grin diminishing as he tried to understand.

“You’re a good friend, I don’t want to assume there is anything more.”

“No!” It was now or never. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the moon, desperately trying to reach for you and never quite making it; frustratedly. It left you speechless, staring at him with parted lips and trying to take in enough air to support your rising heartbeat. “I want to take you on more dates. I want to spend most of my time with you, actually. And I want to kiss you, fuck I want to kiss you so bad.” his eyes went to your lips and back up, and your pulse quickened even more, frozen like a deer in headlights from the sudden confession. Atsumu stepped closer, hands hovering over your hips like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. “I really really like you.”

“Tsumu,” you breathed out, a wide smile blinding him to the level that his eyes started watering from its light. “I like you too, I always have.”

Safe to say that the manager who stood you up would lose his job by next week, but you wouldn’t even look in his direction when you had Atsumu’s constant affection. Sometimes, the universe has a plan, and luckily, Atsumu’s 14-step plan was cut down to 3.

masterlist

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey. 

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead. 

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person. 

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you. 

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much. 

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that. 

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one. 

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first. 

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

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

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards. 

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave. 

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway. 

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back. 

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you. 

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long. 

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes. 

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times. 

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could. 

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

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

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him. 

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day. 

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing. 

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night. 

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again. 

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped. 

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far. 

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend. 

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier." 

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter. 

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top. 

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you? 

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider. 

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing. 

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him. 

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco. 

"Of course I do," she whispered. 

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't. 

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do. 

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried. 

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him. 

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

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was. 

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately. 

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave." 

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed. 

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey. 

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month. 

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave. 

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic. 

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug. 

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real. 

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect. 

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you. 

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table. 

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb. 

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea." 

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight. 

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house. 

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

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

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[yuri-is-online]

Can I request a kind of song fic? You know the song national anthem? The part where it says "red, white, blue is in the sky. Summers in the air, and baby heavens in your eyes". Can I have that with the first 3 dorms? Love your writing!

The familiar tone of cicadas and flushing greens bring about a stereotypical image of summer, and with it the reality of nearly a full year away from your world. No one has said it out loud yet, but it really does look like Twisted Wonderland is going to be your forever home, so it really is time you start thinking about what you want your future to look like...

And someone really seems to want a staring role in it.

I don't listen to Lana at all so I spent a brief moment wondering why someone was requesting I do a song fic based on the American National Anthem. Anyway I listened to the song a few times and came up with an idea, and then another, and another and I am so sorry this took forever. I hope you enjoy. notes: they/them used for Yuu, all scenarios are meant to take place over summer break, and contain a lot of summer themes. Going to the club and making out with Cater, possessive Leona, and mentioned vehicular manslaughter with Floyd. Other than that pretty tame. For other fic please look to my masterlist here.

Heartslabyul

Riddle

Riddle doesn’t know much about happiness now that he thinks about it.

He assumes he was happy when he played with Trey and Chenya all those years ago, and his mother had always been so insistent that true happiness came from doing well in his school work, and Riddle can say he gets something like happiness from his grades.  But then if that is “happiness” then what is this?  It doesn’t feel like it deserves quite the same word as what he feels like when he gets a good grade, and he certainly doesn’t get the same feeling of “happiness” from Trey as he does from you.  There’s a sting of pain to it that compels him to smile, to stay as close to you as possible when you speak.  

“I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

That was where the pain had to have come from, but you’re here with him now and he knows you won’t be going back to that great somewhere you had come from and being next to you still hurts.

“Here.”  You tap your metal sparkler ignites his and you smile, wide and free in an attempt to encourage him to enjoy himself.  You must have noticed how tense he is, something that doesn’t change as he tries to force his focus on the sparkler.  It’s simple, short, putting out a bunch of yellow sparks that he swears it shouldn’t have the strength to.  It’s a lot like him, he supposes, he holds it out and up further and watches it spark down, the burnt edges sagging under their own weight as it rages against the night sky and tries to rival the stars.  “Are you going to draw anything?”

“Huh?”  He’s supposed to be having fun.  Are you disappointed in him?  No, you seem to have expected this, you're reaching for new sparklers and fumbling looking for something.

“If you twirl the sparkler through the air it’ll leave light behind.  It looks like drawing shapes.”  You take the risk of nodding towards Ace and Deuce, who he thinks are trying to draw their card suits from how Ace is pointing and Deuce’s face and laughing at the brief flicker of a spade he thinks he sees.  “It won’t stay for long but it’s still fun.”  A lighter, he recognizes the click before he turns back around to you and sees you fumbling with it.  Your hands must be cold, he can’t be happy with that but the strange feeling surges and compels him forward with the gentlest of fires he’s ever conjured.

“You’re the expert, so I’ll trust your advice.”  You jump slightly with the sparks and laughter, saying something he doesn’t hear as he takes his sparkler and joins you in drawing little hearts in the air.  It has to be a silly thing he’s said for you to laugh so much, but he means it so.  If he lets you point out the fun things, he thinks as you toss your second set of spent sparklers into the bucket of water and hold out the next for him to light, he can busy himself with the practical.  And maybe together you can both learn to enjoy that thing called happiness you both don’t know much about.

Trey

“Don’t you think you are being unfair?”  The words come out even though it has got to be pointless to say it; Trey has to know why else would his smile be so “strained,” why else would he be so determined to keep from making eye contact?  And furthermore he has to know you know, that’s why he is standing so close to you despite this new no eye contact rule.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  He continues looping icing in detailed patterns across a particularly complicated cake that you have to stop and stare at in wonder, could you ever get that good?  Trey must have a great deal of patience to do such technical work, shame he has also decided to use that skill to test yours.  You huff and look at your own work, Trey has to know you’ve been looking at him, people can feel the weight of other’s eyes right?  Let’s see how he functions without your attention.

Fine, you assume he’ll be fine, he’s always so unbothered by anything you do.  Cater has always insisted otherwise, but you swear he’s uncaring too. 

“Maybe you should intern at a cake shop.”  You do your best to mimic his voice and he chokes on his laugh, it takes a great deal of strength and perhaps patience that rivals Trey’s own to not turn and look.  His laugh is so genuine you could mistake it for joy.  “That’s what you said.”

“I did, didn't I?  Good advice that.”  His voice is a bit closer now, you try not to think about how that’s possible, you were already working so close to one another how could he get even closer without touching you?  Why do you want him to touch you… 

“Why didn’t you just invite me here?”  That has got to sound more pathetic than it does biting, it certainly feels that way.  “I applied to three separate places, and before I even completed the first line on your little questionnaire I got a call back from them congratulating me on getting hired here.”  Trey doesn’t so much as flinch, you see him in the corner of your eye, pretending to adjust his glasses and inspect your work.

“Maybe I wanted some plausible deniability.”  He’s so sincere you finally look at him and only sort of regret it when you see his triumphant smile.  “But someone got a bit too excited about a friend from NRC finally visiting and chased everyone else off.”  You snort.

“I can’t imagine Cater’s never wanted to come here, what with how he talked it up so much.”

“He has mentioned it once or twice.”  Trey adjusts a strawberry on a cupcake next to you, out of nerves more than need as he wonders over how to word what he wants to stay next.  “But I am glad you decided to come.  I was worried you would say no.”  You snort and Trey laughs slightly as he watches you squirm in indignance and tries not to focus on your lower lip’s quiver.

“Why on earth would I say no?  I’ve been curious about this place since forever.”  There’s flour on your apron he wants to smear on your face as an excuse to touch you and ignore the aching annoyance in his chest.  I don’t want you to be curious about the shop, everyone is.  I want you to be curious about me.

“Well there are more interesting ways to spend your summer than next to an oven.”  He says it nonchalantly as his thumb lingers on your nose just a bit longer than it should and your annoyance fades in place of something he doesn’t know but wants to oh so badly.

“Well maybe I just didn’t have anything better to do.”  He loves how pretend annoyed you get with him, the way your nose twitches and your eyes dart to look anywhere but him.  “And maybe I’ll not have anything better to do this winter or next summer either.”  He loves the security he has to indulge in those little things, even if you can’t ever go back to your old home.

“Oh?  That’s a real shame.”  He finally moves his thumb down your cheek and curls his fingers just under your chin to force you to look at him, to beg you to see a new possibility in his eyes.  “I can fix that.”

Cater

Cater inviting you places wasn’t a new thing, but you had really expected it to become an old one once he hit his fourth year and didn’t constantly see you irl and have to pretend he was as invested in your friendship as you were.  Was that a cruel thing to think?  Sure.  Did you hate yourself for it?  Absolutely.  Was it partially a product of your overwhelming fear of the consequences of opening up to someone with abandonment issues when you were all but guaranteed to permanently abandon him in a way that was so much worse than any of his previous friends?

Well now you were just being way too serious for the type of trip you were currently on.  You’ve never seen so many flashing lights outside of a nightmare but Cater certainly looks like he’s having the time of his life on the dance floor with Lilia and Kalim while you sit next to Trey being “boring” in the corner.  Not that you shouldn’t be at the club, you've just got a lot on your mind and no place to think it. 

“You don’t have to sit here with me if you want to.”  You apologize and Trey laughs, surprisingly not at all awkward.

“I’d make a total fool of myself, and I don’t want to end up on magicam being called someone’s dad.  Again.”  He swirls his drink in his hand and you look down at yours; you’re at a beach if you didn’t remember because of the stray sand in your shoes you would know by the little umbrella in your cup and the cheekily unbuttoned hawaiian shirt that displays the beads around Cater’s neck as he makes sure to fill your entire vision and steal your breath.

“Yuuuuu, c’mon dance with me.”  He grabs both your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and pulling out to the floor with the force of his voice as much as his grip.  “Can’t let you stay in the corner allll night, I’d be a bad senior!”  You think you hear Kalim and Lilia say something to Trey, but Cater’s so close to you, you can’t really hear anything, not even the music or the last call from the bar that sends you and your friends into the street stumbling back towards the hotel Kalim had insisted on booking.  “They’re certainly having fun.”  Cater hasn’t  let go of your hand, thumb circling your palm before finally resting nearby your pulse point.  “Sort of a shame to call it quits now.”  So he says but you can see the night’s been getting to him.  

“If you need a break I don’t think anyone will blame you.”  You squeeze his hand and a little of Cay Cay’s smile returns to Cater’s face as he squeezes back.  “Do you want me to let you sleep when we get back to the rooms?”  

He doesn’t respond immediately.  Those serious thoughts from before bring you back to reality and you finally see how far behind you’ve lagged from the rest of your group.  

“I want to hear your voice.”  The dull fear of abandonment snakes through you both and coaxes out Cater’s words he’d probably wouldn’t have ever said if you weren’t staying and he was completely sober.  It hitches in your breath as he looks at you, Cater’s real unguarded smile on his face as he lets the boardwalk lights shade him in their perfectly imperfect artificial shine.  “I want to hear you say we’re besties out loud again, I want it to be real.  Because I’m mad I screwed things up before thinking you’d be gone when you’re so desperately real.”  You wave the others on ahead, they shake their heads with knowing looks as you stop and lean into Cater, pressing your foreheads together and staring deep into each other’s eyes searching for something neither wants to admit was always there.  “You don’t deserve to be stuck here.”

“You don’t deserve to be stuck in your own head.”  He flinches and you reach to touch his cheek, could you kiss him here?  Would that be moving too fast?  “I’ll be just fine, Cater.”  

“But I want to keep you stuck here with me.”  He mumbles, and makes the move to kiss for you.  Your arms move around his neck and your hands thread through his hair, pulling him close as he never dared to be.

You’ve got all sorts of things you want to say out loud, just for him to hear.

Ace

“It’s so hot.”  Whines Grim, his bright smirk completely betraying his intent as you try not to sigh too loudly as you look over the prices at this ice cream stand Ace had convinced you to check out.  “I reeeeeally wish we had an ice cream sundae right now, don’t you hench human?”  

“You already had half a watermelon earlier,” you mutter “if I get you a whole sundae you might get sick.”  He won’t.  Grim almost never gets sick.  You’ve seen him eat and rank literal dirt.  But still you already are going to be carrying back the groceries Ace’s mom asked for and didn’t need something difficult to carry.  Thankfully there always seems to be something for cats in the Queendom of Roses because the seller helpfully pipes up that he has a tuna flavored push pop that Grim immediately begs for instead.

You consider getting the same one for Ace, but his childish joy when you pass him a cherry popsicle before opening your own is almost worth the missed joke.  “Aww nice, about time you paid me back for everything I do for you.”  Almost.  You roll your eyes and take your share of the grocery bags, half heartedly fighting for Ace to let you take more of them.  He won’t let you, nodding towards Grim in way of an excuse as if the little monster ever lets you take his paw.  He’s been doing a lot of things like that while you’ve been staying with his family, it’s actually been sort of nice.  There has been a sort of domestic give and take between you two for a long time now that you think about it, probably since the first time he tried to sneak his way into your bed, that has translated into something like a routine.  His family has been nice enough not to say anything about it but you know they see it too.  “Hey you have work tomorrow right?”

“Yeah.”  You try to blink your way back to a more normal state of mind.  “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nah I’ll just text you if I think of something when I’m on my way to pick you up.”  Ace says it so nonchalantly you have to wonder what old Ace would say.  The one who made fun of you for not having magic and ditched a girlfriend without saying anything for being boring, or did you never actually know that guy and got lucky enough to meet the ace of hearts instead?  

“Ya don’t always gotta walk them.”  Grim snorts, unimpressed as always in a way that never fails to make you smile.  “Yuu isn’t gonna disappear!  Headmage said they were here to stay.”  Ace rolls his eyes and you laugh.  For some reason he never fails to take bait from Grim.

“That’s not what it’s about, dummy, walking alone is dangerous.”

“Yeah Grim,” you teasingly scratch his little head “besides the only one who isn’t going to be around forever is Ace.”  

“Do you really think I won’t be around forever?”  Ace actually looks offended, sounds it too and you find yourself indignant.

“You’ve got to have a life eventually.”  You shrug.  “Deuce and me, school, that doesn’t last forever.”   “You can be a part of that life too you know?!”  It’s not the closest to a confession you’ve ever gotten from Ace, but it’s certainly the loudest.  “Look, I get you’ve got a lot going on in your mind right now, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  I’ll sit outside that door waiting for you to be ready, and I’ll still be there even if that day never comes.  If you’re really in trouble I’ll bust down that door, just because you’re forced to be here doesn’t mean you’re alone.”  You wait.  You wait for the back track, the joke, the step back into the comfort of the friend zone but it doesn’t come.  He looks you in your eyes and keeps walking forward towards home.  “You have me, you know?”  You’ve always had me.

Deuce

Sometimes you forget how abnormal Deuce is.  Probably because it’s a normal sort of abnormality, if any such thing exists, that doesn’t involve magic or monsters and you would have been able to wrap your mind around no matter what time and place you had met in.  But that doesn’t mean Deuce is not capable of doing or saying things that surprise you.

“Let’s make a pillow fort.”  He says, the familiarity of his joy the only thing that’s keeping you from screaming about his words.  “I’ve never made one before, it’ll be fun!”

“Oh I refuse to believe that.”  You laugh but refuse to protest, Ace isn’t here to bring down the mood and there’s no way Grim would deny something that he thinks is guaranteed to involve popcorn from the few times you’ve camped out in the Ramshackle Lounge and watched TV together.  And to be fair that’s also your plan for tonight, Deuce has a bunch of movies he’s been determined to show you since you agreed to stay over for the Summer.

“Well maybe back when I was a kid with my mom.”  He certainly has enough blankets for it, but then what self respecting house doesn’t have a few extras?  “I’ve never had a friend stay over before…”  If you were in a different mood, if his flushed face wasn’t so cute, you might tease about how you had been here before with Epel, Ortho, and Silver but there’s a tone to the way he says friend.  It’s the way he makes sure to lie as close to you as possible in your little fort and watches you as much as the movie that tells you that he feels, even if he doesn’t think, that this is somehow different.  “Have you?”  He asks it late, as the credits roll on your third or fourth movie and Grim snores.  “I thought maybe we could do something normal for once, but I forgot to ask.”  You laugh and roll your head onto his shoulder and allow yourself to really think about things.

“Thank you.”  It’s the first thought you have, surprising you both.  But should it?  There’s something warm and comforting about being with Deuce.  Natural even.  “I can’t say I’m happy but I feel closer to home than I have in a while.”  Deuce squeezes your hand and rests his head on top of yours.

“I’m glad.  I- know I shouldn’t be but I am sort of happy you’re still here.”  He wants to say he’s happy you are staying, but he knows he can’t.  It would be too cruel and Deuce knows he can’t really understand the depth of what you’ve lost or make up for it with sleep overs or movie nights.  But he does so want to try.  “I promise I’ll do my best to make your time here worth it, I meant what I said during Starsending.  I want you to be there when I get my badge, I want to make you proud of me too.”  

“I’d say I’ll be the loudest in the room but I’ve met your mom.”  You sleepily quip and he laughs.  “And I’m already proud of you, Deucey.”  His half open mouth freezes, his thanks stuck in the softness of your voice as he wills himself to sleep to sear the sound into his brain.

“Sweet dreams, Yuu.”  He’ll make this a summer worth having, he swears it.

Savanaclaw

Leona

“You cannot have driven me out here just to nap.”  Leona’s head is heavy and warm in your lap in stark contrast to the cool greenery that shades you from the rest of the palace.

“Can’t I?”  He opens his eyes to look up at you with a gleam that’s just so smug it makes your heart flutter in what you have to work very hard to convince yourself is annoyance.  “Because I could have sworn I just did.”

You aren’t sure why Leona invited you.  That one time you had visited the Savannah before had been because Grim demanded, not because he wanted you there.  Or at least that’s what you had thought but this time you had received an invitation, and though it had been worded more like a demand (must be a cat thing) it had been surprisingly thoughtful in its accommodations.  Grim certainly had been happy enough to accept on your behalf even before Crowley had agreed to let you go.

“I’m just surprised you would want anyone with you to nap at all.”  You had been afraid to touch him when you saw him, but you swear he wants you to play with his hair with how he purposely spreads it out, like he’s displaying for you.  “I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

“Maybe I would have been.”  His bluntness is only dulled by its predictability, there’s something almost relieving about it if you’re honest.  Everyone has been so insistent on saying they are happy you have stayed and just as eager to avoid talking about the specifics that worry you.  Not Leona, he keeps his green eyes focused on you, striking right at the heart of things.  “But you aren’t half as annoying as everyone else, even if you could stand to fight for yourself a bit more.  Why do you think I invited you here anyway?”

“...so your family wouldn’t bother you about your duties?”  He laughs, loud and free and so forceful he shakes your entire body with its pride.

“Well you’re half right.”  He reaches up and pulls you down, rolling to the side so you’re lying in the bit of ground he’s warmed and caged in the safety of his arms with nowhere to run from the obvious truth.  “You’re here because I want you to be.”  The way he says it, the touch of his forehead against yours and the lull of his heartbeat, it’s like he’s daring you to think of your entire existence in Twisted Wonderland in terms of him and him alone.  And he knows it, he has to he’s too smart to word his sayings in a way that would misconstrue his meaning.  “What’s that shit you herbivores are always yammering on about?  ‘Finding your family?’  Well I found you so you’re going to stay right?”

“Are you offering me citizenship, your majesty?”  Because you have to make this a bit of a joke otherwise you’ll let him in on just how much power over you he really has.

“I’m offering you a home.”  He’s surprisingly serious.  “It’s dark, a bit shit, but you already like those sorts of places if your dorm is anything to go by.  And you’re so annoyingly sunny I’m sure it’ll perk right up when you settle yourself in.”  Just like he does as you move to hide your face in his chest, your breaths matching in the safe lull of slumber under the jungle’s starry sky.

Ruggie

“Man, I love Summer!  People are just so much freer with their cash, y’know shishishishi.”  Ruggie cackles as he settles himself into a booth, still somehow full of energy despite the day you’ve both had while you slump across from him.  “Peak tourism season means loads of opportunities for work!”

“I know Leona said this place was popular but I guess I didn’t realize just how much.”  Ruggie had been so proud to show you this barbeque place after your first night working at the resort with him, and you had been more than happy to know it on nights like this when you had worked overtime meeting some really pushy customers' needs for what felt like way too little money.  Even though this gig paid pretty well some people just weren’t worth shit, something Ruggie knows all too well.

“Yeah, nothing on Sage’s Island ever gets this busy.  You holding up ok?”  Ruggie’s always like this while he’s on the job, you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean too much by it, that he’s just checking up on you from a place of mutual understanding but it still feels good.  Good enough that the smile you manage is genuine.

“Surprisingly, yeah.”  You could really do with some more sleep than you are going to get when you return to Grim tonight, but then you always could.  “What about you?  You always look twice as busy as me and that’s saying something.”

“Aww, you worried about little old me?  Kiiinda weird Yuu!  I’m the senior here, I'm more used to this.”  He’s the same smug Ruggie, brimming with enough confidence and infectious determination that perks you up just a bit.  Or maybe it’s the fact your food’s come and you are determined to snatch up the utensils and cook before Ruggie can and use it as an excuse to keep all the best cuts for himself.  He doesn’t jump to fight you tonight though, instead he looks contemplative.  “Hey, are you sure you’re ok with how you spent your Summer?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”  The meat sizzles on the grill, dampening the seriousness of the conversation with its pops, and Ruggie tries to focus on it but it’s clear he has been thinking about this for a while.

“Well, my invitation was kinda late.  I was really surprised you didn’t want to spend your Summer hanging out with your friends.”  You don’t say anything immediately, wondering how best to respond to someone who, admittedly, has never really admitted to being your friend despite you both regularly flirting with that and a much deeper concept.  

“I mean I do.”  It’s best to be honest with him, he won’t accept anything else even if it hurts to see you refuse to look at him as you flip the meat to cook its other side and continue thinking out loud.  “But I’m going to be stuck here forever, I want to get a head start on some security.  I can’t live in Ramshackle forever.  And besides…”  It’s best to be honest with him, you reassure yourself as you take a deep breath and give him the cut you know he’ll like best and stare deep into his eyes.  “I was happy to hear from you and get a chance to see you again sooner.”  His ears twitch and his eyes widen, words fumble out of his mouth without any real meaning as you both silently agree to table the conversation and eat your meal.  The best meals aren’t rushed, and the best connections allow themselves the time they need to grow.  You know you’ll both be ok, you promise yourself you will make sure of it.

Jack

“Jack, what is this thing again?”  You ask slightly exasperated, not with the product or with him, just yourself for still not remembering the types of snack foods available in a basic convenience store after a whole school year in this world.  For once, Jack doesn’t complain or pretend he doesn’t want to help, just dutifully walks over and looks at the package before putting it back on the shelf.

“It’s a type of chip, you liked this flavor better.”  He adds it to his basket and you sigh, mutter an apology Jack doesn’t acknowledge verbally, instead touching your thigh gently with his tail.  “Is there anything else you want to bring back to Sage’s Island with you?  If you don’t remember until you get back…”  I won’t send it to you.  That’s what he wants to say, but he cuts himself off before he can.  He can see your mind auto filling it in as you think, and he curses himself silently.  What a fool he’d been, “I won’t need to do that I’ll just know” he hadn’t counted on lying to himself about how he felt.  His mother had, she’d even laughed about it when he had tried to stumble around asking to let you visit.

“A soulmate is something you work for, Jack.  It’s not given to you, you have to earn it.”

Jack likes to think he works hard.  His grades are good, he’s in great shape, his unique magic is truly a gift and he isn’t taking it for granted but you.  You’ve got two separate drinks held up to the light, neither of them are exclusive to the Shaftlands.  You could get them at Sam’s any time but you are squinting as if you have truly never seen them before and he guesses that’s because it’s true.  Why is it so hard to just speak to you?  Is it because you're human?

“If you want something limited, those are over here.”  He takes what you were looking at anyway.  “My sister really likes this one.”  I think you will too, it’s a lot like what you get from the vending machines.  You nod and add it to the basket, turning towards the canned goods and insisting on getting some “fancy” tuna for Grim with a smile that stirs his soul and reassures him of what Jack knows is true even if he can’t speak about it.

“You think he’d notice even if it was different?”  You are shaking your head as you look at the can, making jokes but not bothering to pretend you don’t care.  It’s maddening, how bright you shine for those you care about and how little he can do to give that shine back to you.

“You can’t tell him how much it costs, otherwise he will insist it is.”  That works, you laugh and his tail goes crazy, unable to hide how important your laughter is to him.  I love you.  That’s what he wants to say.  “You should come back next summer.”  But he doesn’t, he rubs his neck and looks at the shelves and thinks it so loud he swears his heart is halfway out of his chest.  There’s a soft look in your eyes that he wants to think says you hear it, but he knows that he can’t take it as an excuse.  Next summer I’ll say it.  I’ll say it every day that you’re here, I promise.  Your smile is everything he needs.

“I look forward to it.”

Octavinelle

Azul

There’s a picture on your phone you don’t think you were meant to see, but magicam lets you delete photos and Azul hasn’t done that yet.  It’s been an hour, the little opened notification sits there taunting you both but still he doesn’t do anything.  Not send a follow up message or delete the photo or anything and FINALLY you’ve had enough so you do something beyond reckless.

You call him.  And he answers.

“Prefect!  Always a pleasure to hear from you.”  Azul sounds so infuriatingly put together you want to die.  You bet he’s sat in some sort of fancy office, leaning back with a smug look on his face while you hug a pillow close to your chest, still in your pajamas seething with nerves over his little mistake.  “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Did you mean to send me a picture of your menu for orientation?”  You cringe at how upset you sound, because you really aren’t exactly.  It’s silly to hope Azul would talk to you over the summer at all, and if he did of course it would be about business.  That’s what talking with Azul is always about.  “Oh and hello I guess.”  But it still pays to be polite if for no other reason than the melodic laughter that you get to hear at what you're sure Azul sees as a cute mistake.

“I would have called you if I hadn’t.”  He sounds like he is reassuring a child, but still pauses to keep you off your game before he continues.  “I was expecting you to give your opinions on it, you have to have some don’t you?”  

“Not for free.”  You snort and he laughs again, slightly more awkwardly this time and you wish you could say that you didn’t feel bad, that you were as cold and calculated as the sea but neither of you are really.  It isn’t wrong to want something is it?  Azul is pro-greed, so surely he would understand you teasing him a bit to keep him in your life for just a bit longer.  “Do you need my opinion for something?”

“Just to hear it.”  Azul has a way of being so damnably dismissive about things it drives you insane.  Just once you want to hear him say- “Besides, it’s been a while since we talked and I thought it would be a good ice breaker.”  You choke on your own thoughts and almost break your jaw trying to keep him from hearing.  “You’ll be there I trust?”

“Orientation?”  Your throat hurts and it shows in your voice, that stupid octopus has got to be so smug right now it would be so insufferable to look at.  You definitely aren’t thinking about it and it definitely isn’t making your struggle to breathe worse.  “Or the Lounge?  Because it’s not like I’ll have anything to do really if you want help or something… I am sort of curious about those house themed drinks, that's a stupid good idea for an orientation by the way.”

“I knew you’d get it!”  Azul sounds so excited it’s almost pure.  “You’ll have to come by beforehand so I can show you how to make them, it took so much time to get the correct flavor pallet for the Savanaclaw and Ignihyde ones you have no idea-”  

And just like that he has you, he has you!  You’re listening and talking to him through all of his explanations, probably sitting somewhere under a tree well put together with Grim on your lap and… smiling he hopes?  While he is curled into a small ball in his room trying to pretend he knew this would work out exactly like he wanted the whole time.

You’ll be there.  When the bell strikes and the mirror opens its gaze on NRC once again he won’t have to be nostalgic for flames and mayhem because you will be there.  And this time he swears he’ll catch you for good.

Jade

It’s the last day of school and yet you have nothing to pack and nothing to do.  The usual excitement that accompanies the final freedom of summer is sort of lost in that void of being unable to go home, and as ashamed as you are to admit it you think you’ll go crazy if you don’t have anywhere to go next summer.  You already felt so overwhelmingly lonely when you first got the news, and you have heard these things get better but it doesn’t feel like it will.  Even the knock at your door fills you with dread, you don’t want to ruin Ace and Deuce’s excitement with your bad mood.  But that’s not what you see when you open your door.

“Hello prefect.”  Jade Leech is tall, so tall he fills up the frame with his stiff figure that you always have noticed for how proper it is but today he seems even more rigid than usual.  Guarded is the word you would use if you could ever picture him being afraid of you.  “May I come in?”  You nod and shut the door behind you both, your idle curiosity drowning out the danger signs as neither of you move or speak.  Jade’s hands stay folded in front of him, yours stay at your sides as you wait.  Wait wait wait for what you don’t know, hadn’t the twins told you they visited their parents over this break?  His mother sounded lovely, why would he want to keep her waiting?  “I was wondering…”  He closes his eyes and brings his hand up to his chin as if he is deep in thought but it reads more like it is taking a lot out of him to say what he wants to “Would you be interested in climbing Mount Moln with me sometime?”  Your breath catches in your throat, the memories of your trip to Harveston still somewhat fresh and inviting in their domesticity.  You hadn’t thought he would remember that little conversation you’d had, but he does.  His wide smile when he opens his eyes to see your fluster screams it’s haunted his dreams as much as it has yours.  “I do seem to recall you expressed a desire to climb it, and since you will be staying with us for the foreseeable future I thought I would take my chance on the proposal.”  Did he have to word it like that?  It’s doing things to your heart.

“I did say that, didn't I?”  You try to center yourself by closing your eyes, it’s always a bad thing to appear desperate around him but your mind insists on remembering.  The feel of the snow, the smell of the woods and the bonfires, and of Jade whether he would believe you or not.  Of the excitement in his voice when he named all the plants he knew, of the funny look on his face when his sled misbehaved, so passive as if it was happening to someone else and not him.  And of the shiver of excitement at his ideas on how to sabotage the other team, whispered quietly in your ear so as not to alert Epel in an effort to convince you of his position.  Or maybe now that you look at him he just wanted the excuse to be close.  “Yes.  Yes.  I would like that very much.”  Jade’s smile stretches to something as dangerous as it is thrilling as he takes his long desired excuse and closes the gap. “I will see you next week then.  Make sure to pack your things.”  You splutter and he takes a deep breath to savor the look as he traces your cheek and takes your weak protests in stride.  He never did say you would be going to Mount Moln this summer, you need to train after all.  Jade Leech intends to take his time with you, assuming you’ll let him of course.

Floyd

“Hehe Floyd and shrimpy, drivin to the beeeeach.  What’ll they do?”  

“Stay in their lane and watch the road.”  Crewel has to have added a “fuck” in there that he didn’t voice if his death grip on the car’s grab handle is anything to go by, and if you are honest you wish he had, it would make this whole experience much more bearable.  You have opted to hold Grim instead, prayer was also an option but that wouldn’t keep Grim from trying to harass Floyd.  He’s laughing now, saying something to Professor Crewel you can’t quite place, maybe adding a new verse to his little song that admittedly sounds kind of catchy.  Floyd has a very nice voice you swear he only ever uses to make fun of people, not that you could see him ever doing anything with it since that would take too much repetitive work.  “Pull off the exit here and make sure to park WITHIN the lines this time.”  Crewel snaps and you find yourself finally at a merciful stop, and unable to free yourself and Grim from your seatbelts fast enough under the guise of “getting your things” from the trunk.  

You aren’t fast enough to avoid Floyd.  He’s there as soon as you open the trunk, tell tale smirk on his face.

“Well shrimpy?  I’m waitin’”  He’s giggling, the only thing that’s keeping him from kicking his feet is their need to be on solid ground to keep him upright.

“You suck.”  You say completely deadpan without a hint of irony.  “Congratulations I didn’t know anybody could do it that bad.  Why did you want to try learning to drive again?  They don’t have cars under the sea do they?”  Floyd seems amused by your attempt to steam past your little insults, choosing to ignore them for now and shrug as he takes the umbrellas out of the car and closes it.  

“It seemed fun.  Beakerfish is always goin on about ‘em and Pops says they get stupid expensive.  Why’s that huh?  You humans sure do like buying shit just to break it.”  He doesn’t move immediately, like he’s waiting for something and determined to block your way until he gets it.  So you take a deep breath and lie to yourself that it’s just this one answer.

“Floyd, most people don’t wreck their cars on purpose.”  It should be the most obvious thing in the world, but still he doesn’t move.  His smile gets wider and his eyes blaze with determined focus, for some reason he gets closer to you, one hand resting above you on the car to loosely cage you against it.  He has to know what he’s doing here too, Floyd’s a lot but he’s not stupid. “Aww really, shrimpy?  There’s so many movies and games ‘bout it you’d think that’s the whole point of havin’ em.”  He giggles exactly like he does before moving in with a squeeze, bending to whisper in your ear as if Crewel isn’t just on the other side of the vehicle still holding that damn crop and just looking for an excuse to strike.  “That’s not all they do in the movies though, huh Yuu?  Maybe I wanna take you someplace nice,quiet, and all alone for once~”  And just like he’s gone, back to bothering your professor who you know is chastising himself for agreeing to chaperone this trip while you try desperately to catch your breath.

[faeryarchives]

when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace trappola x f!reader)

summary: the rising streamer ace trappola has always been teased by his friends and fans about his failed relationships - that is until one certain stream where each and everyone of them were proven wrong.

note: ok i had this idea at 1 in the morning i was like 'hmmm what if we make a streamer series for twst?' and its just full of fluff and crack like no magic au + everyone is just normal

recent fics: happy birthday (malleus x reader) & so what are we? & in sickness and in health

it was around saturday midnight when everyone should be asleep, but ace trappola decided it was a good time to stream a horror game out of all possible games he could play with his friends. they all started as friends before starting the game but i fear he might have none after the stream.

"crabby, where are you~?" the sound of floyd humming through the mic sent shivers down the boy's back as he tried hiding from the hunter. "it's so funny to see floyd just have this tunnel vision to kill ace." jamil's smooth voice rang out, obviously amuse how the scene was unfolding. 

"oh flooooyd! ace is hiding in the house with the telephone!"

"i hate all of you, after this game i am blocking everyone!" seeing him become the victim in the game and everyone turning on against him, his fans flood the live stream chat with laughing emojis and 'take the l'.

"ace, become a good bait while we fix the car." he heard ruggie and deuce laugh at his misery before their characters ran opposite his direction.

"okay who is the one that said floyd should be the hunter this round? hey, hey, hey! stop chasing after me- am i the only player in this game?! epel is right here!" in an act of desperation, ace tried to hide behind epel's character instead but only to receive massive damage when the attack hit him instead.

"eh... but guppy-chan isn't even trying to run away, which is boring!"

"wait, really?" he then stopped running. ace turned to face the hunter's character, trying to see if floyd would actually kill him, only to notice something wrong a little too late. "heh, gotcha,"  ace screamed into his mic, watching his character gets stuck in the tree and meet his demise as floyd split him into half literally. the words 'you died' appeared on the streamer's screen. 

gloomurai: wow you are so great in this game 🤣

"i see you idia-senpai! it's not my fault they all turned against me!"

wani-sama🔧: it's your karma for selling them out to ruggie last game

"yeah, yeah... well, i'm always the last one to get caught, so this can be pretty relaxing." the streamer smirked as he watched from deuce's point of view where he is currently lost in the woods. 

"i get to watch them die but knowing floyd he might quit mid-game." to used to being the first one out, ace sighed, switching from one point of view to another. bored ou of his mind, he looked at the corner of his screen, ace looked at the comments curiously as they try suggesting things.

muscle-red: why don't you do a q and a while waiting then?

"question and answer? don't you guys basically know me already?" ace looked at the screen intently, contemplating whether he should do it.

"fucking viper i swear!" suddenly someone joined the call causing ace to jump in surprised, only to realize it was ruggie. 

"how did you die?"

"jamil betrayed me because we thought it was a four-seater car. it turns out it was only two!" hearing this, ace turned to jamil's point of view and snickered about how he and epel got chased by the sneaky eel. "welcome to the dead club."

as if he could imagine his senior rolling his eyes at his words, he smirked smugly - karma does bite back hard. "hardy har... what were you doing? i heard something about a question and answer?"

"chat wants me to have another q and a portion, what more do i have to tell you guys?"

cowabunga: how is the search for your beloved mwishxr: there is no use in asking that 

"search for my beloved? hey!"

"shishishi! even your viewers are against you!"

it's a running joke in ace's community on how he was immediately dump by his ex girlfriend one week after dating. it wasn't like he wanted to share the story - he shared it as a batsu game after losing a round of uno. usually, when asked about his search for a girlfriend, ace would get all red and try to defend himself from the single until he became old allegations.

but today was surprising because not only did he not become all flustered and defensive - ace trappola looked smug even as he leaned his head into his palm and laughed.

"hmm, i wonder about that?" from behind, ace could hear approaching footsteps stopping next to him, and the live stream chat went wild and even ruggie who was looking at ace's stream right now watched with wide eyes as someone who was wearing the streamer's well-known sweater stood beside him.

"what the fuck?!"

gloomurai: ?!?!? muscle-red: what is with the sudden plot twist wani-sama🔧: WAIT wani-sama🔧: IS THAT-?!

"heya (nickname)~" ace hummed, turning his gaming chair facing your direction, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he grinned at you ever so cheekily. "you're late!"

"what are you five? i don't even know why you want me to come over." you rolled your eyes, trying to push him away playfully, only to run your fingers through his hair and chuckle.

seeing him lazily smiling at you causes you to succumb to your urge to pinch his cheeks - hard, making ace cry out in pain. before you could even ask another question, you saw something flash at the corner of your eye causing you to look at his monitor - realizing that he is still streaming. while holding onto you. and he not even on mute!

"this is all your plan, wasn't..." holding his face in your hands, ace could only laugh and nod, his hand quickly pulling you down, making you sit on his lap as he proudly present you to everyone. "as you can see, i am not hopeless anymore!"

wani-sama🔧: WHAT ARE YOU DOING SIS?!

"how is it possible i could hear sebek through the screen..." you sigh, leaning your back on ace and waved at the camera so casually as if the chat and ruggie weren't surprised at all.

"i just want to say to chat that ace didn't have my family in hostage." with you hand wrapped around his, you put up up and showed it to the camera. "and he is stuck with me."

hearing at just what you said made everyone in the chat go insane erupting into numerous emoji and something with the lines of 'oh my god he is not lying!' or just exclamation but nothing beats the reaction of your friends.

"(name) you settled for a guy like him?!" you could hear ruggie's surprised voice through your boyfriend's headset and honestly, you were contemplating if you would agree or just laugh it off.

"what can i say? sometimes, idiots have their charms."

jamil-viper: i can't believe you got (name) of all people... deuce-spade: oh thank god i don't have to keep it a secret anymore. wani-sama🔧: YOU KNEW?! epel-felmier: i think that's the effect of not our gc !!

the stream goes on with ace finally having his bragging rights and the twitter stans going crazy about the sudden girlfriend reveal. oh well, karma does hit back hard doesn't it?

[leighsartworks216]

Writer's Block

Zayne x gn!Reader

I've been stuck in a bit of a rut trying to write for these boys, so I decided to write a fic about writer's block to get out of my writer's block. To be honest, I have no idea how it worked as well as it did

Warnings: established relationship, swearing, domestic fluff, writer's block, food, eating, cuddling, forehead kisses, references to Clopidogrel the squirrel

Word Count: 2,436

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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The little black bar blinks mockingly at you. The only mark on the empty document, taunting you for your lack of creativity, of imagination, of perseverance. Blink, blink, blink. Waiting for you to type anything. And you come up pitifully short.

You sigh and shut your laptop. You look around the living room, at the little knick-knacks you brought from your apartment when you moved in, the cozy blankets strewn about as the days get colder, and the clock on the wall. You could watch TV, pick out a book from the shelf, put together a puzzle…

You open your laptop again. The empty document continues to mock you.

What do you want to write about? Action? Well, you’ve never been very good at writing fight scenes or thrilling chases. How about some romance? Eh, you have no idea where to start with that, and relationship drama sounds about as appealing as a moldy pizza crust from the bottom of a week-old dumpster. If you were a bit cleverer, you would try your hand at a murder mystery.

“Love?”

You hum.

Zayne comes around the sofa to pick up your empty mug from this morning that sits lonely on the coffee table. He looks down at you skeptically. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“No,” you admit. He’d pry it out of you either way; might as well tell the truth. “My brain is stuck, right now. All I want to do is write, but nothing is coming out.”

“Why not take a break?”

“Because nothing else sounds good to do,” you try to explain. “Trying to do anything else feels bad, but trying to write also feels bad.”

He closes your laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “Let’s start with getting something to eat. We can go to that music-themed diner we saw the other day.”

You sigh, long and drawn out, but the look he gives you advises you not to argue with him. “Okay.”

He smiles slightly. “Your brain needs time to rest, even if all you want to do is push through it.” He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Go get dressed. Something warm; it’s chilly outside.”

“Yes, doctor.” You draw yourself up from the cushion, body aching from sitting there for so long. He raises an eyebrow at you. You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “Yes, my love.”

“That’s better.” He returns the kiss and heads into the kitchen to rinse out your mug.

You shoot one last glare at your laptop, before going to the bedroom to change.

-

The drive is mostly quiet. The soft hum of the AC pushing warm air throughout the car being the most prominent sound in the silence. You watch the people passing by, walking or biking along. You try to make little stories for some of them.

While Zayne is stopped at a red light, you point out his window at a teenage girl being pulled along by an overexcited dog. “She stole it from the pound.” He chuckles lightly, caught off guard by the sudden remark. “It’s a gift for her little brother, because their parents won’t let them get a pet. She’s gonna say it was running loose when she found it, and, ‘Oh please, can we keep it? We’ll take good care of it!’”

“Will they let her keep it?” he asks as the light turns green.

You huff and sink into your seat, staring back out of your window. “Who knows?”

He reaches over to hold your hand in your lap. His thumb runs over your knuckles, tracing the familiar path it takes every time you’re upset, brushing over the silver ring on your finger. It’s almost Pavlovian how quickly it soothes you. “I think they just might.”

You know it pains Zayne to see you like this, acting like a petulant child just because you can’t think of a few good words. You lean your head on his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Mhm, but can I anyway?”

He breathes a quiet laugh. “Yes, you can.”

“Then, I’m sorry for acting like this. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Of course. If you would like to make it up to me, we should go to that crepe stand in the park.”

You laugh and pinch his hand. He squeezes you back in return. “Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, we can go there after lunch.”

-

The diner is snug. All sorts of band memorabilia line every inch of the walls. The tables are decorated with images of album covers, protected by a layer of see-through plastic. You manage to snag a booth right by the door, giving you a perfect view into the connected gift shop, lined with instruments and CDs.

As you wait for your food, named after old 1980s and 90s songs, you and Zayne catch up. Small updates on how Yvonne and Greyson are doing, in exchange for an odd article you saw on Moments. You tell him about a cat you saw the other day that you forgot to tell him about, and he updates you on Clopidogrel, the squirrel who comes to his office window to beg for nuts. Once the food arrives, though, conversation is exchanged in favor of listening.

Over the old music blaring a little too loudly in the diner, you listen to the full tables of friends and family that chat. You overhear something about an Aunt Mindy who’s just adopted another parrot, despite already owning three. Someone’s boss who keeps microwaving fish for lunch, and the ongoing notes-on-the-fridge war about it. A friend of a friend of a friend who met some celebrity, or so they say, but they can’t be trusted to tell the truth because of such-and-such.

A couple sitting behind Zayne, right beside the entrance to the gift shop, seem to be on their first date. The guy is talking a lot, even speaking over the girl he’s with at some points. You try not to stare when she suddenly blows up about him not listening to her. He talks over her again to try defending himself. It gets so bad, two staff have to tell them to leave so they stop disturbing everyone else. They don’t even get their food as they stomp out, continuing to complain all the while. Zayne shoots you a look that says he knows you’ll be using this for your writing at some point down the line.

Bellies nearly full, with just enough left for a dessert crepe, Zayne takes a moment to take in the decor. There’s one sign high up on the wall that says, “If you remember the 60s, you weren’t there!” It must be quite old. Really, all of the stuff in here could be considered antique. It’s fascinating to see it being appreciated instead of locked away behind glass; given the chance to live again.

“Feeling better?” he asks as he leads you back to his car, parked in a lot nearby.

“Mhm. But now I keep thinking…”

“About what?”

“How glad I am that none of our dates went that poorly.”

He chuckles softly. You smile and hold onto his arm, leaning into him. “Well, there was that time early on…”

You laugh at the memory. “You should have gone right home! I told you not to worry about dinner!”

“I couldn’t leave you to eat at that restaurant alone, exhausted or otherwise.”

“But then I had to drive you back home, anyway! You know how I don’t like driving your car.”

The car in question unlocks with a beep. He opens up the passenger side door for you to get in. “I’m glad my perseverance didn’t ruin your opinion of me,” he says, before shutting the door and rounding the car to get into the driver’s seat.

Once he gets in, you poke his arm. “Of course not. It just meant I had to get on your ass more about overworking yourself.”

“Yet you still ignore my advice…” He gives you a pointed glance as he starts the car. “Do I have to start getting on your ass about overworking yourself?”

“You already are!”

“I could be far more insistent about it than I currently am.”

“Please don’t.”

-

The park by the hospital is familiar and welcoming, as always. A light breeze caresses your cheeks as you start walking side by side, and you’re glad you dressed warmly like Zayne said to. Still, you may or may not have used it as an excuse to walk even closer to him, to “conserve heat” as you fake a shiver. He’s so used to your antics by now, he teases you about the possibility of keeping an extra coat and scarf in his car for you.

The people at the crepe stand know you already. You try not to think about how often you must visit for that to be the case, as they ask if you want your usuals and get to building the crepes exactly as you like. Zayne is just patient enough to let you take a quick photo of both of your treats together to post on Moments. You fondly wipe away a small glop of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth that he misses, and he catches your hand before you can put it on his nose instead.

You walk to a secluded little bench that you’ve practically claimed for yourselves. You’ve never seen anyone else sit here, ever. It’s tucked away beside a small pond, where ducks huddle together as they float, flat beaks tucked under their wings as they enjoy an afternoon nap. The bench itself is old and worn down, covered in lichen and carved into by old lovers. But it’s yours.

You sit side by side, watching the waterfowl and enjoying your treats. When you finish your crepe, you lean your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist to keep you close, indulging in being a little more affectionate in the extra bit of privacy you have here. It feels nice, just being here with him.

“Thank you again for this,” you say softly. You can’t fight the smile that appears on your face when you feel his head rest on top of yours. “The head editor has been hounding us all lately to write something spectacular. As much as I love working for the paper, sometimes it makes writing painful.”

He hums in understanding. His fingers trace mindless shapes against your hip, only stopping when you squirm from how ticklish it is. “You went into a job that makes your hobby into work, but that detracts from the relaxing, fun experience it used to be.”

You sigh. “Yeah. And then the stuff I do end up writing for fun, I hoard to myself. I haven’t done that for years, because I like sharing my stuff with other people. Now, it’s like I have to keep that little scrap of joy all to myself.” You close your eyes and turn your head to press your cold nose against his jacket lapel. “I know I should just quit and find something else to do, but even if I want to write a novel or a book of my own, I’d still be turning my hobby into a job.”

“You would be able to work at your own pace.”

“Then who’s to say I’ll ever finish anything to be able to publish it?”

“What would happen if you didn’t publish anything?” he counters. “Aside from posting on the internet.”

You pause for a minute. If you did quit, start writing for yourself and decide to write a novel, what would happen if it never got published? There wouldn’t be an editor or boss looking over your shoulder, hounding you about deadlines or appealing to a larger audience. And there wouldn’t be people expecting a novel from you unless you bring it up yourself. You could work on a secret project for years with Zayne as your only witness and there would be no worrying about other people getting hype and losing interest when you take longer than expected. Sure, you wouldn’t get paid, but money wasn’t a concern with Zayne’s career, and you could always do a little freelance if you felt like it, or find another job that doesn’t involve writing, so you can keep it as a hobby all to yourself again.

You sigh, as though a huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders, and lean a bit heavier into his side. He welcomes it easily, adjusting his arm to wrap around your back so he can rub your arm. “I’ll put in my two weeks notice tomorrow,” you tell him. “Which means I still have to figure out what to write about for this assignment.”

“You’ll think of something,” he assures. “You can always write about that girl and her stolen dog.”

You chuckle. “Her parents will post up flyers about a missing dog, and an employee at the pound will see it. It’ll be a huge scandal. And just when she thinks she’ll have to give up the dog - which they’ve named Sir Butterton the Third - her parents will finally relent and adopt it.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, and he smiles down at you with those ever-calming hazel eyes of his. “See? You’ve already got a plot synopsis. The rest will come naturally.” He squeezes your hand, which has grown cold after spending so long in the cool breeze and autumn weather. “Now, we should get you home before you catch a cold.”

“You’re out here, too! You could catch a cold just as easily.”

“All the more reason to hurry back.” He stands first and helps you from the old bench. You’re not sure he even consciously thinks about it before doing up your jacket to keep the cold air from getting in. You don’t mind. It gives you a chance to admire the man you’ve chosen as your life partner. He gives you a questioning look. “What’s on your mind now?”

You smile and reach up to playfully adjust his scarf. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering who I should base the dad on in my story.”

His ears turn pink, but he shakes his head, taking your hand from his scarf and leading you back toward the car. “If that’s the case, I would recommend a different name for the dog in your story.”

“Oh? What should it be, then?”

“Aprotinin.”

“I’m not naming the dog after a drug!”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[matchadobo]

KIDD; hockey player kidd x figure skater reader

summary: title says it all

warning/s: none, very fluff, gn reader

* thinking about hockey player kidd who's been exceling since high school as that athlete kid and figure skater name that was also unstoppable in ice.

* kidd is an absolute monster at the rink, as aggressive as hockey players are; kidd was perfectly suited to this. the team's ace and is totally the most jackass member; nobody can say shit about it because he carries the team. he's a good team captain but not a good senpai, he'd enjoy making the rookies suffer and would entirely destroy them at initiation, he says it'll only make them stronger

* just imagine kidd in a jersey 😩 that big angry man who's as pale as snow with his fiery red hair standing out in the rink. would probably have 1 as the jersey no. cuz he boastful like that. and oooooh when he raises his jersey to wipe off cold sweat during practice and that sculpted fucking body just oooooh

* you know i fight fire with fire so figure skater name who has the same amount of feist, skill, and stature in the field minus the arrogance

* so when you and him met, imagine the absolute pandemonium. it'll happen on one winter olympics where the only thing you two agree about is how each other ticks you off. you two'll meet at the bleachers by the rink because you both plan on using it at that time

* "got here first." he'll say, tone assertive as he fixes up his shoes. "and?" you'd reply walking closer to him with both hands on your jacket pockets. "i, will be using the rink. and you, should go." he wouldn't budge, would instead stand up and try intimidate you. "nah," you'd clicked your tongue, taking off your jacket. "don't wanna. you don't even own the place." you left your stuff by the bleachers to enter the rink and left him fuming

* he'd then watch you on your competitions to get to know the jackass who messed with him.

* "since when were you interested in figure skating?" killer would ask and he'd receive a glare from the other. "was just checkin' if the rink is big enough." then he'd leave 🤣 killer will look at the screen and immediately knew why kidd was acting like that

* since then, you two will somehow bump into each other a whole lot. and each time you two see each other, kidd would either avoid you or scowl at you. that's why your impression of him was really, really bad. you thought of him as a local athlete asshole.

* so when his match finally came and you were there to watch him, you saw how much of a different person he was. he was his team's ace and captain. how he carries himself in the ice was reason enough why he was the captain. you studied him thoroughly: no matter the vulgar shit that comes out of his mouth with all the curses and insults, he radiated an attractive kind of leadership. his kouhais and mates listened to him and once the game plays out, next thing you know they're winning. his kouhais looked at him with much admiration, and it looks like you are too.

* when the game finished and you went outside to get some food and to your surprise, he was buying the same burgers you were eyeing.

* "i swear, you're following me aren't you?" kidd barked, clicking his tongue. "i'll have you know that i'm a regular here. if anything, you're the one following me." you rolled your eyes, fishing out money from your wallet. "tch, i better fuckin' leave then." he started walking away as you waited for your food. "h-hey wait," you called out, contemplating if you should continue. "congrats on winning, you were pretty cool back there."

* he'd scowl again, start to blush profusely as red as his hair, and leave 😭 you'd be kinda hurt but what else can you do about it? he started avoiding you since then

* little did you know he'd be watching you at your next match at the farthest top of the bleachers just so no one would know. kil would 🤪

* kidd would be so in love with how you move, would go crazy about the fact that you two shared a rink to victory. he never appreciated artsy and dramatic shit and that's exactly what youwere doing, but you might've just change that. as someone who would only be interested in aggressive cool shit, this was a first for him. he'd watch you earnestly: how your expressions change, the shape of you, or how your body twists and dances gracefully on ice. he wouldn't be able to sleep that night especially on what you told him after his match.

* so he visited the rink once more to clear his head and figured he might see you there again, in a very unlikely chance he did see you. he figured you seem to be practicing for finals. "it's midnight." he'd greet you, his deep voice echoing in the hall. "yeah. and you're here." you stopped, skating towards the bleachers. "gotta practice for finals too?" you added. "nope, don't need to." arrogance once more, it pissed you off but now you're amused. "of course you don't," you smiled. "then what're you doing here? you must be tired from today, right?"

* he'd take a while to answer, as if thinking if he should honestly answer. kidd would always speak his mind, he was blunt and that's what he was known for. so right now, as the glass of the rink was separating the both of you in the cold ambience of midnight, he was too lost in you to think properly. he'd just brush you off and say, "'s none of your damn business. i can't sleep, maybe the ice'd fuckin' help." he dismissed, crossing his arms and looking the other way.

* so an idea popped in your head, "if you wanna take your mind off of something, maybe skating would help. go put on some skates." you skated away, continuing on your practice. not thinking about if he'd ignore you or agree. he gave no response but left, it saddened you a little

* only that he returned and is now skating with you with a mild blush on his cheeks, he said it's due to the cold and a pale ass like him becomes red as hell in those times 🥺😞. playful insults turn into snippets of your backstories then into little things about each other as you both glide across the ice. he can speak normally without insults after all.

* you two didn't mind the time at all, nor the press camping out the venue catching some pictures of your little adventures with the scotland's hockey team captain as you two snag foods from 24hour food places within the vicinity. nor does kidd give a fuck about the articles that resurfaced the next day about the rumored relationship with you

* "so you two hit it off, huh?" your coach asked you and his teammates interrogated him. you two just dismissed them with flushed red cheeks.

* after the olympics, you two didn't even try to hide the fact that you are going on dates.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 3 - Zoro

Source for pic

Word Count: 3420

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

|Chapter 2 - Kid| / | Chapter 4 - Law |

Zoro:

You hear Kid’s truck leave in the middle of the morning, meaning he must've finished fixing the tractor and Shanks doesn't need him anymore. You text Nami and Robin in your girls’s group but both of them are busy today and you plan on meeting tomorrow at a new café they swear has the most amazing food ever and, somehow, they are dying for you to meet the owner. 

You still need to find a job, even if it's just a part-time job, since you plan on helping your father with the chores around the property, but it would be nice to start thinking about a semblance of a future. To be truthful, you don't really know how long you plan on staying in the Calm Belt, but at least for some months. It's not like you have that much going on in the city anymore. 

Anyway, you still have today's lunch to worry about, so you make some pasta with tomato sauce, some salad and take out a frozen garlic bread from the freezer to go with it. You're sure your dad is going to complain about the lack of meat on the plate, but if he's going to live with you, he better get used to eating less meat.

When all is ready, you go outside and ring the bell, like your mother used to do to you when you were a child and lost track of time while playing outside. Giggling, you let yourself get lost in the memories before your dad comes back. 

Except ten minutes pass and still no dad. “What the hell…?”

Making sure the stove is off and the pots have lids - these flying bugs and pests can be annoying - you step outside and look around the property. Where did he say he was? He mentioned he still needed to properly fix a large part of the fence since the wood was rotting. 

A weird coldness is settling about in your stomach as you take a deep breath and cup your hand over your eyes to shield them from the bright sun. “Where was the fence broken?” Your eyes follow the whole length of the fence, squinting and tearing up because of the brightness but, after a bit, you manage to locate your father's pickup truck. It's not that far. But there's no red-head in sight. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat along the feeling of dread that's starting to take residence in your chest and do a little sprint to where the truck is parked. “Dad?” You can't see him anywhere and, at this point, you're not sure if the acceleration in your breath is due to your little run or to the fact that you're starting to panic. “Dad!” You scream, your voice louder, squeakier and shakier. 

A muffled grunt grabs your attention and you look everywhere, trying to locate it. “Down here, bug.” Shanks’s voice is strained and tired and the dread in your chest keeps building up. 

“Daddy!” You whine as you turn around the truck and find him lying on the floor with the driver's door open. “What happened?” You kneel beside him but don't touch him, afraid to make things worse. 

“Ah, you see, bug,” he chuckles and groans at the same time, “it's just my back. Sometimes it gives out like this. But I'm fine!” The nonchalant tone of his voice has you fuming at the ears. 

“What do you mean?” You growl between your teeth. 

“It's just a jolt of sharp pain in my back. When it's this serious, I usually hop on to the clinic and the doc gives me a shot and all’s well that ends well.” He grins but your frown is undeterred. “I see you are not amused.”

“I'm calling an ambulance.”

“There's no need! Just drive me to the clinic. Help me up.”

“No! It might make it worse! Did you fall?” You take your phone out of your shorts’ back pocket and search for the number to the fire station because you know it's the fastest way to get an ambulance in this small town. 

“I didn't fall. My back gave out as I was climbing the truck and I lied down because it helps with the pain. Don't call an ambulance, just help me up.” He says your name sternly but you still don't budge, your finger hovering the green call button while your brows scrunch together in deep thought. 

“Bug, I'm fine, really. Let's not hog an ambulance. The town only got one and it might be needed.”

“Alright.” You put your phone back in your pocket. “I'm going to try and lift you up but if I can't, then I'll call for the ambulance and you can't whine like a baby!” Your finger is waving in the air and Shanks stifles a chuckle with another groan because, apparently, any movement hurts. 

You force a verbal agreement out of him before you position his arm over your shoulder and use all your strength to lift him up. Somehow he finds some semblance of strength in his legs and hoists himself into the back seat of the truck, lying down in a position that doesn't strain his back. 

“Okay, okay, you're fine. I'm fine. We're all fine.” You take deep breaths as you clean the dirt from your hands against your shorts. “I'm going to drive this baby up to the house to get our identification and my purse. Okay, dad?”

Shanks mumbles something against the seat since the best position for his back seems to be to lay on his stomach, and you sit in the driver's seat, having to adjust all the settings and the mirrors to suit your small height. 

“Oh, perfect.” You chuckle nervously. “It’s a shift stick. I have to drive with a stick.” You take three deep breaths as your father moans in the backseat.

“Bug, I taught you how to drive a stick! It's not that hard. You just-...”

Your body whips immediately to your father's slumped form and you manage to mutter between clenched teeth. “Dad, if you so much as mention a word about the way I'm driving from here to the clinic, I will either call an ambulance or drop you on the side of the road!”

Shanks chooses wisely and remains silent as you manage to, somehow, turn the pickup around to go back to the house for your stuff, screeching, halting and jerking all along the way, turning your father's moans into grunts of despair. 

“I can still call the ambulance!” You admonish him when you return from inside the house. 

“Let's just go, bug. Daddy needs some drugs for the pain.”

This time, you manage to get out of your driveway without much jerking and things seem to be going well as the road is clear of both obstacles and cars and the only thing weighing on your mind is how the hell you’re going to park the truck once you get into the clinic. 

Until you hit a giant pothole that came out of nowhere and blow a tire. 

“Aw, crap!” You curse as you stop the truck and pull over to the side. “Dad, are you hurt?”

“No more than before.” Comes his muffled reply though it does seem more strained. 

“Just stay there, I'll take care of this.” You assure him as you climb out of the car and ignore whatever he mumbles between his teeth. 

You know how to change tires. It was another thing your father taught you when you were a teenager but, like many things from your teenage years, it was something that was quickly stored away and disappeared alongside all the useless memories of your earlier years. 

So now you're screwed. 

You decide to start with small steps as you remove the spare tire from beneath the bed at the rear - just getting the thing out has you sweating bullets, but that's one part covered. You grab the jack from the back as well, and spend the better part of the next ten minutes finding the right place to slot the thing. 

“Dad, are you alright? I can still call the ambulance? Or do you want to call Ace or- …?” As you peek inside you discover Shanks is sound asleep in the backseat and you relax a bit. At least he's not in pain now so you can take your time. 

You rummage through the tools your dad has on the back of the truck at the same time as you find a tutorial online to help you through the process. You make quick work of taking the hubcap off and then the lug nuts, placing them on the driver's seat for safety. 

“Okay, okay, I got this!” You give yourself a pep talk but you should know that once you start to think you have everything under control, the universe throws you for a loop. So, as soon as you use the jack to lift the car up - with extreme difficulty, and, at this moment you have dirt, sweat and tears all over you - the tire escapes from under the truck because - you realise, much too late - you weren't supposed to remove the lugnuts before lifting the car. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You scream as you start running after the tire. The thing just picks up speed and you are already panicking because you've seen one too many videos of rogue tires and the destruction and mayhem they can cause and you do not have the money to pay for a veranda window, right now. 

Luckily, and you really don't know how, the tire hits an elevation and slows down to a full stop by the other side of the road. Lungs aching, head throbbing and chest heaving, you lunge forward and grasp your knees with both hands, trying to force some air back into your chest. But you don't even realise you're in the middle of the road until you hear tires screeching and a police car abruptly stopping in front of you. 

A squeal is all that escapes your lips as you fall to your knees and cover your head with your hands, face contorted into a pained grimace as realisation hits: you were almost run over by a police car. 

“Lady, what in the world are you doing in the middle of the road?”

The policeman gets out of the car and he is intimidating. Muscles all over, tall and an eye missing. You'd think you were in trouble if that mane of green-hair wasn't so familiar. 

“Zo-zo…” You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, your hands grasping at the dirt below you for some grounding. “Zoro! It's me.” You tell him your name between shaky breaths and notice how his frown is quickly replaced with a shocked expression. 

“No way!” He exhales your name with a light chuckle as you smile back at him and get up on shaky legs. “You're really back? Nami said you were returning but I didn't believe her. You haven't even come to visit once since you left so I really doubted you'd come back.”

A tiny blush spreads to your cheeks. He's right. You didn't even come visit your father nor your friends once. Shanks was always the one who went to Grand Line City. That's how fed up with country life you were. Once the nostalgia kicked in, however, you were far into your studies, and then into your career, and then into the asshole and the timing was never right. 

“Yup, I'm back.” You get up on shaky legs and brush the dust off of your shorts before flashing him a grin. “The uniform suits you!” Damn right it does. It fits in all the right places. He wasn't so fine when you went to school together and all he wanted to do was start a Kendo club at school. 

“Why are you in the middle of the road? I could've hit you with my car, woman.” He frowns. 

“My dad's car. We had a flat and I decided that I was smart and independent enough to change it on my own. I did things in the wrong order and the tire ran away from me.” You chuckle nervously as you point at the tire on the side of the road. 

“You must be joking.”

“I wish I was.” You reply deadpan. But this story is too wild to be an invention. 

“I'll help you with the tire before you start any more trouble.” A dry chuckle emerges from his lips. “Incredible how some things never change..”

He’s right. You’re the biggest klutz to exist and you seem to attract trouble no matter where you go. So you just laugh along with him.

As soon as he parks his car and retrieves the tire from the other side of the road, you both get to work, Zoro effortlessly taking charge of the situation with you awkwardly passing him some tools and him pretending you’re actually helping. 

“So, Troublemaker, what brings you back to town?” He asks casually as he tightens the last lug nut.

You shrug and sigh. “I-... well… life brought me back.”

He sets down the tool, wipes his hands on a rag and stares at you, deadpan. “Life brought you back? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Stuff happened, alright?”

“Stuff?”

Exhaling deeply you just decide to rip off the bandaid. “My fiancé cheated on me and I needed a change of pace!”

“I’m sorry about that.” He says as he sets the truck back down and stores the tools in the toolbox again. 

“It’s okay. I’m over it.” Liar. “Thanks for the help.” You gesture towards the truck and shake your head. “I can’t believe dad is still asleep.”

Zoro laughs as he helps you put away the flat tire and all the tools.

“So you plan on staying long?” He’s wiping the rest of the grime from his hands and watching you as you sigh and give him a lopsided grin. 

“For a while, yes. We'll see how long!”

Shrugging, you close the rear door and flash him another grin, ready to thank him again, but, somehow, you trip on your feet and stumble forward.

Zoro quickly steps up and catches you by the shoulders to steady you. “Easy there, Troublemaker. How uncoordinated are you?”

You can’t help but notice how warm and big his hands are as he steadies you. Letting out a nervous chuckle, you realise you are blushing. “Ah, well, you know me! I did not get better with the years.”

The way his eyes wander over you makes you feel hot and self-conscious at the same time. Zoro removes his hands from your shoulders as his smile widens into a grin. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

Is he flirting? You’re about to reply but as you try to walk, you trip again! Except this time you realise it’s because of the untied shoelace of your sneakers. Alas, the realisation doesn’t stop your tumble and it’s great that you’re still so close to Zoro because he catches you again, this time with his hands on your waist as you reach forward and claw at his chest.

At his muscular chest. 

“My God, again!? I swear I’m not usually this clumsy!” Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. What is it with this man that makes you trip all over the place?

You try to steady yourself but you’re still a bit wobbly on your feet because you might have sprained your ankle - though you’re not about to admit that - and his hands grip you tighter to steady you better.

“Careful there. Wouldn’t want you falling for me.”

Your breath catches in your throat as your heart somersaults in your chest. Yeah, he’s definitely flirting. Your face whips up as your nails grip the fabric of his uniform, eyes locking onto his and a playful smile on your lips. 

“Would that be so terrible?”

His thumb moves slowly against the bone of your hip and the air is suddenly charged with tension. 

“On the contrary…” You can't help but notice the way his voice deepens. 

“Bug?” Your dad moans, breaking the spell and forcing you two apart. Clearing your throat you bend down to tie your shoelace. 

“Coming, dad!”

“Hey, Mr. S!” Zoro approaches the window of the truck and greets him. “I see you’re about to hop onto the clinic again! It’s the second time this week already, right?”

Shanks started to tut, tut, tut, Zoro as soon as he started to speak but it was too late. You raise your head and open the truck door suddenly, almost hitting Zoro’s nose in the process.

“Again? Second time?” You squeal, burning holes into your father. “Explain, Shanks!” You know your father understands that you’re mad at him once you call him by his name. 

“I, uh, well, it’s, uh… hmm…” 

You raise your hand to stop his blabbering, noticing him flinch and sweat, meaning he’s in real pain and you should just get him to the clinic ASAP. “We’ll discuss this later. Lie back down!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He whimpers and does as you told him. Slamming the door you try to turn to say goodbye to Zoro but notice your top got stuck in the door and you can’t move an inch. 

“Oh, my God!” You whine burying your face in your hands as you hear Zoro’s guffaws in the background.

You don’t move for a second, trying to gather your breath and shake away the shame, so Zoro steps up and opens the door, freeing you in the process, wearing an unbearable smirk.

His arm brushes against your side as he unlocks the door and you can feel his breath against your ear, making you shiver but, either he didn't notice the close proximity, or, at least, he does nothing to acknowledge it and the moment passes. 

“What will happen to you when I’m not here to rescue you at every step of the way?” He crosses his arms and cocks his head to the side. “I’m genuinely surprised you managed to stay alive to see the age of 25. Statistically, and from what I’ve seen, you should be dead. Or terribly impaired.”

You snort before you realise that wasn’t sexy at all but you decide to just go with it as you close the door again. 

“I have no idea. Maybe you should just stick around me, in case I get into more trouble.”

“I might just do that.” He finishes with a shit-eating grin.

“Bye, Zoro, thank you for everything.” You wave and open the driver’s door to get to your seat. 

“Oh, wait.” He exclaims as you turn around to meet his gaze. He takes a step closer and, before you can react, he reaches out and brushes a lock of hair away from your face. His feather-light touch sends a jolt of warmth through you, settling in your chest.

“You had something…” He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as you look into the corner of your eyes to see a dried leaf on his fingers. 

The fingers that linger on your cheek for a moment while you’re both lost in each other’s gaze, but before you can say anything, a crackling sound emerges from Zoro’s police radio.

“Zoro, come in. We have a situation at the park. Need you to respond immediately.”

It’s amazing how Zoro’s soft expression suddenly turns hard and serious as he reaches for his walkie-talkie. “Copy that. I’ll be there ASAP.”

You take a deep breath and give him a smile. “Duty calls?”

“Yeah.” He grunts, his voice laced with regret. “Sorry. You’ll be okay for now?”

Chuckling and tucking the lock of stray hair behind your ear, you nod. “Just go and save the day, Officer Zoro.”

He laughs back at you and turns to return to his car. “Catch up later?”

“Definitely.” You answer him back as you climb into the driver’s seat. As his car whizzes past you you can’t help but smile again. Zoro changed. But then again, so have you. 

Maybe coming back home means more than healing wounds: yours and your father’s. Maybe it's about rediscovering lost connections. 

You shake your head and turn the engine on. 

You had absolutely zero intentions of getting mixed-up with another man, but it’s kind of hard to do that when one just caught you. Literally and figuratively.

[stormgardenscurse]

Scuse me! If possible, could I request the first years sneaking into a girls' sleepover that a female reader is attending, and they're disguised as girls? Please and thank you!

sleepover! — twst first years

Summary: First years sneak into a sleepover you're attending (other attendees are all girls). They’re just worried about you (and maybe were bored and thus made bad decisions), but maybe this time they bit off more than they could chew?

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek

Note: I don’t specify the reader’s gender within the work. Due to the nature of the request it’s easily assumed that the reader is female—but really, you can imagine it as anything you’d like because I don’t use specific pronouns here!

Ace

No one’s sure who initiated this whole thing, but they can be sure that Ace was the most conflicted about this. On one hand, why was he going through so much trouble just to do something dumb and embarrass himself? On the other hand, they’ve heard… things from their classmates and senpais about how sleepovers can get sometimes, so of course they’re worried about you! (Read: said classmates and senpais talked about horror scenarios for the drama, not knowing they were applying it to a very real situation).

The moment Ace texted you to ask how long you’ve known those people, it was over for them all. How could you go to a sleepover with people you’ve only met like, twice?! Ace is swearing under his breath as he somehow finds himself at Sam’s shop, buying what looked like cosplay outfits and wigs, just to sneak in and make sure you’re fine.

…And maybe he’s doing this because a part of him is afraid you’ll ditch them for new friends, but no one has to know that. Ace covers this sentiment by talking—a lot—and being the one that makes excuses/fake stories while the girls at the sleepover ask them about themselves. Even making a remark about you and Ace, who they've identified (jokingly) as the type that's extroverted at first but only leans on a few friends:

“Despite loosening up now, Ace must not be used to large gatherings like these, huh? She keeps leaning toward you! I can tell you guys are close.”

He doesn’t do that normally, right…? Surely it’s because of nerves and how ridiculous this situation is. Yes, definitely.

Deuce

Deuce didn’t realize the obstacles of this plan until they all arrived at the sleepover; how does he blend in with girls - there’s no specific way, right? They’re just people— And then they start talking about their type in guys and Deuce can’t help but turn red at the idea that somehow, his thoughts just float to you.

He’s admittedly very interested in what answer you’d give (and a little hopeful that it gives him a little guidance in… Uh, nevermind.) And then it’s his turn, and somehow Deuce just blanks out and says that he’d like someone like you—not explicitly, but he ends up describing your traits and only notices later, when Ace’s answer is instead just flippant, that ‘oh, mine was too specific.’

The other girls there assign Deuce with the ‘sporty girl’ type of vibe, and while he’s flattered, he can’t help but get distracted by how your laughter catches him—it’s so clear and bright, Deuce wants to hear it again and again—but moments like these where you’re sparkling in his eyes are rare, and what Deuce doesn’t know is that it’s not your new friends that caused this, but just the memory of how the first years barged into the sleepover with a mission and ‘I’ve got you!’ written across their faces, despite how they’re completely out of their comfort zone.

Deuce in particular does look very cute in a high ponytail; it’d be a crime to not take some pictures together to commemorate the event. Just don’t show them to any of their senpais, alright?

Jack

Jack agreed to go in an attempt to make sure the others don’t end up doing something that derails the entire night for you - he’s pretty sure you could take care of yourself and know what you’re doing, but boys will be boys… And the last thing he’d want is for their sneaking-in to ruin the sleepover.

The long hair and crossdressing outfit is a little uncomfortable though. When you offer to help Jack tie his hair up, he doesn’t know why he starts to feel embarrassed at how your hands brush against the back of his neck, murmuring a little thanks to you.

He doesn’t talk much during the evening because of his voice, but Jack’s quite relieved at how smoothly the sleepover goes. He just doesn’t want to become a liability (you shouldn’t need to worry, just enjoy yourself!), so when he’s asked about his hobbies or interests, Jack answers that he likes to cultivate cacti.

There’s no reason to lie about such a thing, after all - but it surprises him when the other girls ask you if that’s why you wanted to take a detour to a flower shop the other day to get a beginner’s plant.

Unbeknownst to them, you’d actually wanted to try taking care of one and then gift it to Jack later on... So you improvise, saying that yes! It was Jack’s influence that made you want to try it out (still the truth, but without the detail of you wanting to offer it to him along with a proper confession… Maybe you'll need to rehash you plans to be more romantic.)

Epel

Please don’t point out how he could just enter the sleepover and probably not even need a disguise—Epel still had to apply makeup and dress up to blend in! Honestly speaking this idea seemed entirely ridiculous to him, but he got so caught up in the others’ determination and energy that he ended up here too.

Epel isn’t too happy about how you obviously find him cute in this getup, but he’s relieved from the pretense of acting like a shy, soft-spoken girl when you bring up that he really likes magic wheels!

“Epel looks so cool whenever she goes on a joyride, and she plays Magift too!”

“Really?! I never would’ve guessed! Now I’m starting to admire her too... I wish I could do all those things.”

…Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad. Aside from pretending he’s a girl, Epel’s glad that the people here are really open-minded about hobbies. He even ends up agreeing to race one of them someday (they’re from another magic school, and one of the girls are quite good at flying).

Despite somehow becoming a favorite of the night, Epel doesn’t let you feel left out! He’s here for you first and foremost, and to him, you’re the main character of the day.

…Also, he wants you to be with him whenever he does show off how cool he is. Wowing everyone else fills him with pride, but there’s something he chases after in the way you smile at him - supportive and lingering with amusement at the inside jokes you share.

Sebek

To be honest, the fact that he agreed to do this in itself is really sweet—Sebek found the idea of joining the sleepover ridiculous, until the other guys started appealing about "what if the prefect ends up not enjoying it?” “What if they need our help?”

Ahem. While Sebek isn’t as worried about your socialization skills, he does worry a bit at the idea that you’re going to someone’s house when you haven’t known them for long. So for the sake of your safety (read: his peace of mind), Sebek agrees to go. Just to check on you and leave.

And then two hours pass and suddenly he’s sitting next to you at the sleepover, in what is honestly an embarrassing disguise (who decided to give him that fake bra?!), and trying not to lose his composure while he answers questions from conversation.

Despite all this though, Sebek does conduct himself with poise and the careful way he’s speaking (trying very hard not to be too loud, and really just sitting straight because it’s good practice plus he’s kinda nervous right now. Are girls always this touchy with each other? He can handle some pushing around, but you’re sitting awfully close to him right now!)

The question of celebrity crushes does appear though, and of course Sebek confidently replies that Malleus is the only right answer (slowly convincing some of the girls of Malleus’ appeal when he rambles about the prince) - but at the end of the day, he’s acutely paying attention to you and responds before you even have to ask for things; asking for the snack bowl and letting you take some before he does, placing a blanket over your shoulder when it starts to get cold—it’s cute when he doesn’t expect you to offer the same comforts to him, sharing the blanket and leaning against one-another while a movie plays on the TV.