#there's some scary shit about to go down courtesy of Chase o-o

[dhampiravidi]

So far, so good. Jayn was, for the moment, a nervous wreck. She was listening to Pogue, obviously, but she was also weighing each sentence against what she knew her parents were each thinking. As his girlfriend, she hoped to all the gods who were out there that her parents were fine with his reply. As his friend, she was curious to see what he said, just because he hadn't really talked about his parents around her before. She doubted that they were racist because he'd dated Kate for as long as he had...but that was all she knew.

Okay...a stay-at-home mom who liked interior design, and a dad who owned a profitable construction company...that didn't sound bad. Jayn didn't think her parents would have a problem with any of that. Then why was she getting weird vibes? She racked her brain, wondering what terrible secrets his parents could be hiding. Obviously, there was the witch thing, but that wasn't really "bad"--plus, she and her parents already knew about that. Jayn wondered and wondered until she was nudged out of her thoughts by the little kiss Pogue sat on top of her head. It was basically a reflex, the way she leaned into it and then into his side.

"Well, it sounds like they both like what they do. That's important, especially when you get to our age," Jayn's mom said, and the smile she had was perfectly audible. Her kid breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Alright, I know my daughter's probably wondering when we'll let you go since she loves Halloween so much...it was nice to talk to you, Pogue."

"Use a webcam next time! I want to see who my little girl's running around with," Mr. Hardy added, though he was clearly in a good mood, too. Jayn was unamused. "Alright, goodnight."

"Night, Dad. Night, Mom. Love you." And then the call was finally over. Jayn put her phone away, pressed her face into her boyfriend's stomach, and let out a weak scream, ever the dramatic. "...thanks for...not thinking they're weird," she muttered, looking up at him. She sort of wanted to ask when she was going to meet his parents, but she worried if it was too soon. There was a difference between him talking to her parents for a few minutes, and her going over to have dinner with the Parrys. And what if his parents didn't like her for some reason? How much did they even know about--

That was how she figured out why the topic of his parents seemed strange. She knew that Reid's mom doted on his two younger sisters, who annoyed him even though he was always making himself available for rom-coms and dating advice. She knew that Ty's family was Jewish and that his dad was the cook while his mom was the baker. She knew a decent amount about Caleb's family because she lived with them. But she didn't know anything about Pogue's parents (besides their careers) because he never brought them up. Jayn bit her lip, worried.

"Pogue? What aren't you telling me about them?" A tiny part of her brain whispered that they were serial killers. Hopefully, that was the dumb part.

Caleb was usually more into mysteries and historical fiction than anything else, especially when the two genres were combined (The Three Musketeers and anything involving Sherlock Holmes were his favorites). Books focusing on romance and intense worldbuilding didn't do it for him. But since he'd found out that his crush, his girlfriend, was the daughter of an urban fantasy author, he decided to try something different. He'd started reading Mr. Keller's novels a couple of weeks after the girls had met him and the others at Nicky's when the book club had been formed. He had only just finished the first book in the series, so he was in no shape to join Cassia, Jayn, Reid, and Ty's meetings...but that didn't mean he couldn't learn a little about the latest addition to the magical story. He was horribly curious that way, wanting to hear as much as he could until there were spoilers.

Thankfully, his curiosity was shushed and nudged to the side when the haunted house became his main focus. He followed Cassia's lead toward the next exit and...ugh. Gore didn't freak him out as much as it disgusted him (there was one of the two reasons why he'd chosen law over medicine). His eyes went straight from the macabre "corpses" that decorated the room, to the walls, so he could look for the exit. Just as he thought he spotted a way out, an actor lunged at him and Cassia, startling him so badly that his doubled portion of the Power reared its ugly head. If he'd been in a room with better lighting, his black sclera would've stood out and scared the shit out of Cass. Thankfully, he reigned in his magic before it could do anything more than make the dim lightbulbs flicker. He managed to tug his girlfriend in the right direction, through some fake cobwebs and past some thunder-and-lightning SFX that poked at his already-shaky skeleton.

Caleb was starting to feel lightheaded. The logical part of his brain, which was buried underneath the worries about that case study he had due in a week, told him that he should probably breathe, as opposed to...well, not breathing. He tried to catch his breath as quietly as possible, not wanting to upset Cassia. After all, she couldn't help him not have anxiety issues. She couldn't erase Chase from his mind any more than she could take the stress out of his brain cells. So he just clenched his jaw and kept going, like he always did, until he realized that the passageway was forcing them into a single-file line. Even if he'd been ten years younger, he wouldn't be able to keep Cass by his side as they moved on to the next room.

"After you," he managed, hoping that she didn't hear how shallowly he was breathing. He would've gone first, but he was busy trying to get himself together. They'd all been having so much fun with the games and conversations...Caleb hadn't even considered how much the haunted house would really affect him. He only ever felt as fragile as he did after he'd had a nightmare, or when his course load was getting to him because he forgot to take his medication.

It was amazing how something as simple as a kiss from his boyfriend could make Aaron feel tough. Then again, he'd stopped having problems with his confidence not long after he had come out. Whatever was going on inside him, Aaron was enjoying his Halloween date with Tyler...even if he kept squealing like a kid every time a fake zombie jumped out from the shadows. And when the actor grabbed his ankle, he let out more than just a squeal.

"SHIIIIT!" he screamed, literally jumping back into Tyler's arms. He blinked, realizing how close Tyler's face was to his, and snogged him properly before he looked for the next exit. "Over here!" He led the way through the creepy greenhouse, and out into some kind of ancient art gallery. There were the paintings you'd see in Scooby Doo, with the eyes that moved if you looked closely, and then there were worn-down statues going all down the hall. At least one was bound to be an actor in cracked grey makeup, so Aaron braced himself as he kept moving forward.

Reid was excited and had a little grin to prove it. Whoever was in charge of the haunted house did a great job, as far as he was concerned. He could see the story behind it all: zombies, or some kind of menacing creature, had rampaged through some rich family's house, and he was the nosy person who decided to check out the crime scene. Cool!

"Reid? Damn, is that you?" He paused, as did the "bloody" guy who was supposed to be scaring him. They looked each other over, then chuckled in recognition.

"Hey, Mar." Marley was Reid (and sometimes Tyler)'s very reliable weed guy, not to mention a former classmate with a penchant for collecting cool seashells and shiny rocks. "Didn't think I'd see you in here..."

"Yeah, well, it's a side gig. Pays kinda nice. Awesome costume, by the way. Wouldn't know it was you besides the blond hair." Reid grinned and bowed dramatically, which made his friend laugh a little. "Alright. Get goin' before I lose my job bein' nice to the customers." The mighty Mothman wished the guy a happy Halloween before he continued on his way. And of course, he was still losing candy as it trickled out of his bag.

Jayn looked up at Pogue, eyes widening as he mentioned that he wrote code. Tyler had mentioned that he himself was studying computer science, but Pogue never had. She wondered how she could've missed that bit of information--was she a bad girlfriend for not having found that out before? She and Pogue certainly talked a lot, though sometimes she rambled on (or ranted) about her opinions more than he was actually contributing to the conversation. The brunette bit her lip softly, making a mental note to talk less and listen more, especially when it came to her boyfriend. In the meantime, it was good that he and her father had some common ground. Her parents were pretty liberal and easygoing, but she'd worried that her dad might have a problem with Pogue's race. Not that her dad was only okay with her dating Black men--he just hadn't seemed as open to her dating people who weren't Black or male when she was growing up.

"What do your parents do?" Jayn's mom chimed in. Jayn froze. Her mom was the type of person who tended to be charismatic, but who also did not give a single fuck when it came to getting what she wanted. In other words, although she sounded nice over the phone, Mrs. Hardy was a savage. She was interrogating Pogue about whether or not he realized it and whether he liked it or not. But there was no way for Jayn to warn him. All she knew was that Pogue hardly ever mentioned his parents, and there had to be a good reason for that. Jayn leaned into him a little more, nervous.

"Reid's...Reid. You never really know," Caleb admitted to Cassia. Reid used to always cry when the Sons' parents took them to take pictures with Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. He was also seriously disturbed by the Gremlins when the four boys had been introduced. But when it came to classic slasher films with tons of gore and jump scares, Reid was a fairly chill person. The blond had been forced to watch chick flicks and kiddie movies ever since his younger sisters had been born, and yet he still hadn't lost his cool. In other words, it was hard to tell what would spook Reid. "His idea of horror doesn't exactly match up with other's people's...speaking of, how's The Dark Mist, your dad's book? Is it scary at all?" Caleb remembered Cassia telling everyone that she'd served as her dad's unofficial editor, so he knew that she had already read the book. Still, he wanted to know how much she, Reid, Jayn, and Tyler were enjoying their club. Jayn had mentioned something about a group chat, but she hadn't elaborated, hinting that she didn't want to rub it in his face. That was nice of her...and yet, Caleb was still curious.

Before he and Cassia entered the haunted house, he kissed her on the top of her head. He wasn't much for public displays of affection, and it didn't seem like she was either (thankfully--he preferred to keep his business a little more private). Though after the few seconds of panic he'd had, plus her flirty comments, he felt like he had to do something--something to show her that he was still present and completely wanting to be with her. He didn't admit it, but Caleb had a feeling that he might freak out sometime later in the night. He just hoped that it wasn't in the haunted house, where Cass would feel obligated to lead him out as she would a small child. Caleb took the first steps forward, wishing he had a way to use his Power so he could sense where the dressed-up volunteers were hiding. It was a good thing that his hands were occupied when the first scare came. He managed to only tighten the hand holding his bag of candy when the first scare came. Thankfully, the shadows seemed to hide his expression, and the "hidden door" stood out to him. "This way!"

Aaron knew that, from a strategic point of view, it was probably best to stay quiet as he and Tyler ran through the haunted house. That way, it would be harder for the hidden volunteers to hear the two of them coming (and it would keep with the ominous atmosphere of the place). But Aaron couldn't hold back his laughter...until the lights dimmed even more and the fake crack of lightning pointed towards a narrow passageway, announced by thunder.

"I'll go first," he told his boyfriend, not in an effort to seem tough, but just because one of them had to go first anyway. There wasn't enough space for the couple to keep walking side-by-side. He crept through the winding corridor, which felt a lot like a jungle gym that'd been spray-painted black in hindsight. Once he got to the end, Aaron found himself in front of some clear tent flaps, that resembled the doors of a greenhouse. He waited for Tyler to join him, then pushed the flaps aside to continue on. The next room had a few bright overhead lights, but they'd been tampered with so they were constantly flickering on and off. There were a bunch of weird, overgrown plants everywhere, too, their roots and dirt littering the floor. Aaron didn't see the mauled torso of the gardener reach for his foot until it was too late.

Reid walked up to the haunted house like a first-grader getting onto the bus for a field trip. He beamed handsomely at the doorman, who simply waved him in once Cassia and Caleb had gone far enough inside. The blond paused for a second, eyes widened when the first volunteers jumped out, but he quickly recovered and kept going at a brisk pace. He had no problem crawling through the dark passages...and yet, little did he know how much candy was trickling out the sides of his plastic bag.

[fluffybunnyartist]

Hey!! Again I can't get enough!! I really appreciate you putting Actually time and effort into our asks! My ask! Can we get a Michael Myers (other SLASHERS) as a meaner more scary yandere?? Like just a more realistic darker version of them with a cute innocent S/O NSFW IF YOU WANT!! AGAIN NO RUSG

Hell ya!! NSFW: Blood, gore, implied sex and noncon.

MICHAEL MYERS

Whatever you did to catch this man's attention you're either one lucky bastard or one unfortunate SOB. Hes extremely possessive and in the first day of him showing you your his you'll be covered in hickies.

You can kick and scream all you want. He has you in his clutches and he needs you. You better learn how to behave. He doesnt like hurting you but will if you dont act nicely.

Friends? Murdered. Family? Pushed away. Any boyfriend/girlfriend? Killed 3 days ago. No one is allowed near you unless you're working or buying groceries. He does know when to let it go.

God forbid anyone flirt or bully you. They're tortured and killed. Only he can do that. Speaking of which his idea of flirting is stealing or murdering people for what he needs for you. That rich family down the street? Murdered and you got some nice shiny jewelry covered in blood.

Now he will wait for consent to fuck you. Hes not a complete monster and you're the only one he loves. But he will grope you, rub up against you and mark you however he pleases. When he kisses you he doesnt expect you to kiss back. Just sit back and take it. Hes still a dom but hes a bit cold. You talked to a cashier for too long and hes left you naked tied to the bed with a vibrator in for an hour.

All in all you're his little doll and hes never loved anyone like you. Just let me play with you Y/N, you'll enjoy it I promise.

JASON VOORHEES

He'd tear anyone to shreds to get to you. You remind him a bit of his mother, so sweet and kind and he wants you. He needs you. So everyone else is slaughter with blood and guts sprayed across the cabin and campgrounds as he carries you to his place.

He ties you up to a bed and a chair during the day so you can sleep at night. Hes very kind, despite slaughtering your friends. He'll treat you like a delicate bird or baby deer. Petting you softly and feeding you from his own plate.

Stay in Pamela's good graces. Mainly be nice to her boy! Dont do drugs and no escaping! If you try he wants hurt you. He'll put you into a timeout. Do it too many times and he'll bend you over his knee and spank you li km e a naughty child. So you're not in much danger.

He's very sweet to you once you get to know him but like Michael he refuses to let anyone come over or near you. He'll chase everyone away. You dont need them, Y/N! All you need is me. He loves to cuddle you. Sweet little pets and even kisses.

Hes more likely to take off the mask if you've earned his trust or promise kisses. Then he'll stay unmasked around you. But only you! He doesnt really make you work but he does appreciate if you clean house a bit.

He always makes sure to have consent before touching you any where other than your hair. He doesnt wanna upset you.

THOMAS HEWITT

Something about you caught his eye. And now here you are at dinner. With your dead friends seated on one side and the large man wearing you best friends face on the other.

Be kind. Dont insult them or itll lead to you being punished. Thomas already made clear that he wants you and he wants you alive so they wouldn't risk killing you but being forced to do hard labor and chopping your friends up for dinner isnt killing you.

He'll spoon feed you the stew made of people. And at dinner you're tied down until further notice. After that you'll be tied to Thomas's bed. He'll feel up on you and touch you no matter how much you squirm. He just cant believe a beautiful creature such as yourself is in his bed. Laying with him!

He likes to cuddle you a lot and he'll grind on you and hump you a ton. Hes never had a sexual outlet before so it's a common occurrence when he just masturbates over your naked body. He loves seeing the look on your face as he cums all over you.

He may actually fuck you without your consent. You're his right? His to take? And he loves you so much. He promises to make you feel good. Just let him in.

BUBBA SAWYER

The fact that you survived one dinner is enough for Bubba to make you his. He'll give you plenty of kisses straight off the bat. He makes sure you're fed and bathed. Usually you're tied up for these.

He doesnt talk so it hard to understand him but he likes to cuddle with you. Sometimes if you cut yourself or get cut he'll lap up the blood and sometimes he likes to bite you.

He can and will kill and eat your friends. If you try to run away or escape you leg or legs may be butchered or mutilated courtesy of Drayton telling Bubba that he needs to so you dont run away again.

Now he'll probably fuck you while you sleep or are so tired you dont know what's going on. He's not so great on consent but that's bc if his upbringing and not out of malice or need to prove your his.

Probably one of the more innocent ones and the only reason he harms you or does freaky shit is bc of his brothers. He likes to make you jewelry out of body parts or steal some from victims.

He'll have Drayton marry you too so you both can have kids together! And he wants lots of kids! He's so happy he found you!

BO SINCLAIR

You're tied up in the chair until you can behave yourself. You get bathroom breaks but only he can take you and hes right inside with you. He'll face the other way he just doesn't want you escaping.

He'll gag you if you keep making noise. He wont glue your lips together bc what if he scars them? You're his perfect little doll. He doesnt want you too injured. So stop struggling in those bindings Y/N. It wont help.

Within the first few days he'll be on top of you grinding and groping. Touching you wherever he can. He loves your body and he wants to make you feel good. Dont you wanna make him feel good too?

Hes aggressive though. He may love you but he wont hesitate to scream or yell at you if hes thinking you're acting like a bitch. Hell come back later being softer and kissing you.

He'll get you to marry him. How can you say no to him? He'll take care of you and your kids! Hes so excited to get his little nuclear family started! After the chair you'll be chained up in his room. Maybe he'll take you for a drive if your good. But hes another one to lock you down fully or cause it so you cant escape.

No he wont cut off your limbs! But maybe if you cant see the exit you wont be able to leave him. Remember even though he loves you he still gets off on your pain a bit.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

More or less Bo thought you'd be good for him and he locked you in the studio where Vincent spends all his time. At first he doesnt know what to do. He leaves you food and water and let's you use the restroom but ues not sure.... but you are really pretty.

Awkward cuddling. Usually when you're asleep he'll nuzzle up to you gently. He doesnt wanna wake you but he wants to be close to you. He'll start drawing you and soon he'll be enamoured with you.

During the day hes polite and kind and offers you things to keep yourself occupied. But at night he let's his fingers and lips wander wherever he wants. Usually you tire yourself out by crying or trying you escape. So you're really conked out by the time he starts to touch you.

He wont mutilate you if you try to escape no. He'll cripple you. He can just carry you where you need to go. He can help you with whatever you want! He can bring you food and water! You can have everything you've ever wanted! But you have to stay here with him.

[crapitskizaru]

Coach!Eustass Kid/Student!Reader

Hello author-sama! I would like to ask for a scenario (or headcanon if you prefer) of Law, Kid, and a character of your choice with an s/o who is rather petite and uses performance-enhancing drugs thinking it is the best/only way to keep up with the rest of the crew. Thank you very much!

Warning: lil bit of angsty self-doubt, aggressively encouraging kiddo 

Word Count: 2,4k

You watched hopelessly as the ball came down through the hoop for a 3-point goal to the enemy team. 

The cheers and shouting hadn’t even subsided when the game clock indicated half-time, starting a break. The break you’d have rather passed on, if only it meant escaping your coach’s piercing glare of disappointment. 

And there he was, already marching towards the benches your team was sat on, expression as furious and wild as usual. You weren’t the only one worried about his judgemental speech that was yet to arrive - reading Zoro’s face like a book, the boy seemed frustrated. He was wiping the sweat out of his forehead when your coach slammed his hands on the bench right next to him. 

“What was that?” he spat, sweeping his gaze around the team. “I thought you had attitudes! You wanna be stinkin’ losers forever? Sittin’ here while the other team is celebratin’?” The coach threw his arms out in anger. “I can’t believe this shit!”

“Sorry, coach,” Usopp muttered, nervously tapping the bench. “We’ll try next quarter.” 

“Yes, you will.” Coach pointed at him with his finger, red hair tousled and giving him a devilish vibe, especially when mixed with the flaming passion in his eyes. “You will keep tryin’ until you get what this sport is about. This is not only your personal defeat. The whole team will lose if each one of you won’t get your shit together and start playin’ like I taught you!” 

“Yes, coach.” Your team members murmured under their breaths, faces grim. The only one who didn’t seem at all bothered, as per usual, was Luffy; the boy gritting his teeth and shooting provocative glances towards the enemy team, as if challenging them to fight. In one hand he clutched a grand-sized sandwich - he had one for each break in between the quarters. 

Your coach sent him a long glance and, for a split second, his face bent into a smirk. “You’re the biggest hope for this team, Mugiwara. Stubborn idiot.” 

You couldn’t help but smile upon hearing those words, Luffy’s grin growing with pride. During the game, the sight of your team leader never losing his vigor and will to fight always managed to lift your spirits up. 

“I will just go and...grab something from my locker.” You weren’t sure whether anyone had heard you, the team busy with going through the game plan for the millionth time. The smell of sweat and Luffy’s sandwich turned into one of deodorants when you entered the empty changing room. 

Your racing heart seemed to calm down a bit, the courtesy of dim lighting and overall silence; but it soon picked up on its pace again when you remembered just why you were there in the first place, and not revising the tactics with your team. 

Hands shaking, you opened your locker and reached for a tiny zip-lock bag underneath your jacket, laying at the bottom. There it was, the last pill, almost like the last obstacle you had to overpower before revealing your true potential. 

You knew you had it in you, somewhere deep and - as for now - hidden. Would you be able to develop it without the drugs? Probably. But why wait, if a much quicker opportunity was right there under your nose? 

It was determination that eventually made your hands stop trembling, a sudden feeling of boldness took over your chest. This had to be done. Even if the game would be lost, at least you’d have done everything in your power to give as much from yourself as possible. 

What if you could do it without the pill? With enough stubbornness, would you be able to get on the same level as Zoro, or even Luffy? Maybe you were just off during the last quarter, maybe if you focused...

There was Nami, with her muscly figure, practically flying around the court; the sheer sight of her was enough to distract all of the people taking part in the game, and adding her skills? She was simply amazing. 

Sanji, with his quick wits and powerful blocks, was always the first one to chase the ball, leading in attack along with Zoro. They were fast, ruthless and effective. When Luffy came into play, there was hardly a team out there that could stop those three together. Adding Usopp and his strategic thinking, there was always a brilliant tactic to perform during the matches. 

And yet, that day’s game wasn’t going as planned. Whether it was the enemy team being simply too good or the overall mood to blame, it didn’t matter. The pill on your palm could give you a boost, maybe even save the game. 

The silence in the room wasn’t helping. It almost felt as if it disapproved of your way of thinking with its overwhelming hush. The layer of sweat on your skin already managed to seep through the clothing, making it sticky and uncomfortable. 

That was it, the break was about to end. Now or never - you squeezed the pill in your hand and reached for a water bottle. 

“What are you doin’?” 

The voice cut through the silence like a knife. Spinning around, you noticed your coach leaning against the doorframe, his face blank. 

“Nothing. I forgot my water bottle.” 

“Is this how it’s gonna be? My own student lyin’ to me?” He approached you; you couldn’t stand the heavy gaze of his eyes. “Show me your hand.” 

Your mind turned completely empty, not a single thought to help you in this dire need, your body numb with fear. Even if you wanted to lift your arm, it just refused to cooperate. 

The enemy team you didn’t care about, it was easy to take any step to defeat them in a game. Your own team? They deserved to have you at your best. But your coach - he was the person to teach you how to dribble, how to do jump shots and slam dunks, how to foul someone without a referee noticing. And if he was to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t classify yourself as a good enough player to make it without drugs, you might have as well resigned from the team right then. 

You could only shake your head in denial when his grip tensed on your hand and brought it to light, revealing the white pill. 

“Throw it away.” 

“Coach, I-” 

“Throw it away!” he hissed, sweeping his eyes along the room. “Before someone comes in.” 

On stiff legs, you made it to the nearest trash can and obeyed the order - you wouldn’t dare to do otherwise. He observed closely as you returned to the locker, bitter tears of shame glossy on your cheeks. 

“What do you have to say to me, (Name)?” 

Your nails buried into the skin on your palm. There was nothing in your mind, not one coherent sentence to explain yourself, the perspective of having your coach let down by your actions already burning your guts. 

“Nothin’?” he gritted and took a step forward. Your back touched the cold metal of the lockers. “Nothin’? At least stand up for yourself, for Christ’s sake! I taught you better than that!” 

You could see his white button-up shirt flexing from the movements of his body as he slammed one hand against the lockers, pinning you in the process. 

“Tell me why.” His voice continued to be low and restricted, but it rang in the quiet room anyway. “Were you scared? Didn’t wanna see how weak you actually are?” 

“I know how weak I am.” 

“Then why? Runnin’ away from the truth won’t take you anywhere. Face it or get out of my team.” He caught your gaze, still motionless in front of you - people always talked how scary and unpredictable he could get, but for someone who knew him that long, it was more about persuasion than instability. Seeing the anger and impatience in his eyes snapped you out of the panic, offering words instead. 

“I don’t want to drag them down with me.” You took a deep breath. “I know we can win this game. I just need a boost.” 

“Listen to me-” His sentence was cut off by a bell signaling the break was coming to an end. You wanted to move, out of habit, but your coach didn’t as much as flinch so you remained in your spot. 

“If there were some pills, legal or not, that could make you all play better, I’d be the first one to get them. But this,” he pointed at the now-empty bag on the floor with his chin. “This shit will make you better for some time. And then you will keep droppin’ lower and lower until you won’t even be able to get out of your damn bed without poppin’ one of those.” 

“Am I supposed to let us lose the game then?” You shivered in frustration, a scorching lump in your stomach growing heavier. There was already loud commotion coming from the direction of the court, the match starting any minute.

“Yes! Lose this game, lose ten other games after this! Face it and keep trainin’.” He finally moved away and fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, purposefully making it more crooked than before. “Life is harsh, baby boo. Truth hurts. But it’s better than some dumb tricks that don’t do shit anyway.” 

You wiped your nose and snorted. “Aren’t you going to report this to someone?”

Another sound indicated the start of the game. Your coach rolled his eyes and directed you towards the door with a slight push at the small of your back. “To the referees? Bunch of pricks. They’d kick you out of the team and I’d have to deal with recruitin’ someone new, then trainin’ them from the start, yadda, yadda, yadda. Borin’. Ain’t no one got time for that.” 

“Coach?” you stopped before the door and shot him a glance. 

“What?” 

“Thank you.” 

It was his turn to snort as he gestured for you to hurry up. “Yeah, that’s right. Thank God for me. Now get your ass out there.” 

The sight of your team already on the court gave you a boost of confidence when you jogged over to them, trying to forget about the wasted pill in the changing room. 

The game flew even quicker than normally - it was a mixture of blocking, passing and sneakily elbowing the opponents in the guts when the referee’s head was turned in the other direction, just as your coach taught you. 

He was constantly shouting out last-second tips for you and also some heavy insults at the enemy team. No one dared to point it out though, and you were proud to have him as a mentor; after all, it wasn’t easy to intimidate the whole team, the spectators and all the referees at the same time. 

The game clock was merciless, showing less and less time until the end of the match. The score was almost even, but there were still a couple of points left for a tie. 

“(Name)-chan!” Sanji threw a bounce pass - as soon as you felt the ball in your hand, a surge of adrenaline washed over your entire body. Before you were able to assess the situation, breath got punched out of your chest when an opponent launched themselves onto you and knocked you onto the floor. 

“Oi! The fuck was that?” You heard your coach’s yell mixing with a loud whistle as you quickly gathered yourself from the floor. 

“(Name), you okay?” Nami asked and you answered with a short nod. 

“I’m screwin’ your mom!” Your team grinned upon hearing the shout of your coach, directed towards the player that fouled you. That man knew how to boost morale, that was for sure. “And your dad too!” 

Laughter died in your throat as quickly as it appeared when you noticed there were 10 seconds left till the end of the game - the ball being handed to you by the referee as he granted your team two free throws. 

Focus, you thought to yourself and fixed your position on the court. The cheering of the people was muffled by the rushing of blood in your ears, your hands trembling around the ball. 

“Just shoot,” your leader chimed from behind your back. “Whatever happens, happens. It’s okay!” 

You couldn’t help but smile up to him. He was right; whatever was going to happen, at least it will be the truth. 

During the first throw, the ball landed perfectly in the hoop and you earned an immerse chanting of the crowd. You searched for your coach - he was there, casually sprawled on the bench as if he already knew the result of the game, a slight smirk on his lips. 

Your arms and legs went numb during the second throw. Everyone’s eyes were on the ball as it balanced on the ring of the hoop, your breath held back and then taken away from you as if it was another foul when the ball leaned to the side and plopped down onto the floor, missing the shot. 

A triumphant roar of the opponents filled your mind when the score indicated their win. 

“Good game!” Luffy sprinted past, patting you on the back. His hair all tousled and dripping with sweat, shirt sticking to his skin. “See you at the training!” 

The rest of the team made their way to the changing room as well, but not without giving you a quick hug and a few encouraging words. Zoro was the last one to leave the court as he sent you a thumbs-up and reached for his water bottle.

“So?” 

You still stood in the same place when your coach approached you, arms crossed on his huge chest. 

“’So?’ We lost the game. Just as I thought.” 

“So what? There will be another chance.” His voice was as nonchalant as ever. “Now get your ass out of here.” 

“But-” 

“You better be on the practice tomorrow.” 

You struggled to argue but soon gave up and puffed out a surrendering breath. “Coach?” 

“What is it this time?” 

“Thank you.” 

He just smirked again and gave you a teasing nudge as you walked off the basketball court together.