#and start testing the deck out the next time i play

[unnonexistence]

*holds up zimone paradox sculptor* i am going to make a math deck that is soooo busted

[inseobts]

Without the Hat

law x gn!reader

in a world of teasing, blushes, and stolen glances, law stops wearing his hat because of your compliment, but then the crew's teasing only makes everything more complicated—and maybe a little more perfect.

a/n: cutest thing I could ever think of, ngl

words count: 2.5k

tags: fluff, gender neutral reader, humor, slow burn, silly love

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

It starts like this.

You’re both sitting on the deck of the Polar. It’s quiet. The sea is calm. Law is reading a book, his hat on the bench beside him for once. His messy black hair moves gently in the wind.

You look at him, just for a second too long.

He glances at you “What?”

You blink “Nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow “You’re staring.”

You shrug “You look nice without the hat. That’s all.”

He stares back “...What?”

“I said I like how you look when you’re not wearing that dumb hat.”

“‘Dumb’ hat?”

You nod “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

He keeps staring. He’s not mad, but something in his face changes.

“…Huh” he says, then looks back at his book like you didn’t just shake his entire existence.

The next day, he walks into the kitchen. No hat.

You almost drop your cup.

“Wait,” you say, pointing “Where’s your hat?”

“I forgot it” he says fast. Too fast.

“Forgot it?” you repeat, grinning.

“I was busy.”

“Busy forgetting your hat?”

He ignores you.

The next day, no hat again.

You’re suspicious.

You lean close while he’s talking to Shachi “Hey, did you stop wearing it because I said you looked good without it?”

Law doesn’t even flinch “It’s being cleaned.”

“Liar.”

“It smelled like fish.”

“Liar.”

He keeps talking to Shachi like you don’t exist.

Another day.

He walks into the infirmary. You’re sitting on the bed swinging your legs. He’s got his usual coat, but again... no hat.

“Okay,” you say loudly “What’s the excuse today?”

He looks at you. Calm. Too calm “Bepo’s repairing it.”

You squint “Why would Bepo fix your hat?”

“He’s learning to sew.”

“…Liar.”

“I support his hobbies.”

You throw a pillow at him.

And still, every day after that, the hat stays off. Even when you ask. Even when you tease.

Every day, a new excuse: “It’s drying.” “I’m testing wind resistance.” “It’s in quarantine.”

But you catch him once, in the hallway, fingers on the brim of it in his room. He sees you and pushes it away like it’s poison.

You grin.

He sighs.

“…Shut up.”

He wears it again.

Just like that.

No warning. No reason.

You walk into the kitchen and he’s standing there with his hat on, like nothing changed. Like the past week of messy black hair and fake excuses never happened.

You blink once. Pause. Open the fridge.

“...Morning” he says.

“Morning” you answer.

That’s it.

No comment. No teasing. No jokes.

Nothing.

Law stares at your back while you dig around for juice. His hands twitch like he’s waiting for something.

When you sit down with a glass, he tries again “It was windy today.”

You nod “Yep. Super windy.”

He stares harder “…So I wore the hat.”

You sip “Makes sense.”

Silence.

He stares more.

You look up “What?”

“…Nothing” he mutters, walking out with his tea like you just slapped him with confusion.

Later, in the hall you pass him. He’s still wearing it.

You smile at him. Normal. Friendly.

Nothing about the hat.

Law watches you disappear around the corner with the face of a man who just lost a game he didn’t realize he was playing.

At dinner you’re sitting across from him. Hat. On.

You talk to Shachi. You laugh with Penguin. You hand Law the salt.

You say nothing about the big round fluffball sitting on his head.

“Did you notice anything?” he finally asks mid-bite, staring dead at you.

You blink “About what?”

He frowns “Never mind.”

You lean your cheek on your hand, watching him “You okay?”

He looks away “Fine.”

Night time.

You knock on the door to his room. He opens it in a t-shirt. Hat still on.

You don’t say a thing.

“You needed something?” he asks.

You hand him a book he left in the kitchen.

“Oh,” he says “Thanks.”

You smile “Goodnight.”

He closes the door slower than usual.

Then opens it again a second later.

“…You didn’t say anything about the hat.”

You blink “Should I have?”

He stares “You always say something.”

You shrug “Maybe I got used to it.”

“…You liked it better off.”

“Yeah,” you say, calm and honest “I did.”

You turn to go “Still do.”

He closes the door again. This time, faster.

You smile all the way back to your room.

One day you walk into the control room.

Law’s sitting in the captain’s chair. Arms crossed. Eyes on some map. Hair messy as ever.

Hat: gone.

Your heart does a small, ridiculous flip.

But your face... totally calm.

“Morning” you say, walking past like your brain isn’t screaming.

“Morning” he says, not looking up.

You sit at the console. Turn it on. Pretend to focus.

Inside, you’re a disaster.

At lunch, he walks in late. Still hatless.

You look up, then immediately down at your plate. You don’t say a thing.

You think maybe your ears are turning red.

“Yo, Law,” Penguin says “New style again?”

Law shrugs “Didn’t feel like wearing it.”

Everyone nods.

You stab your rice. Stay cool. Stay normal. Do not look for too long.

You look anyway. Just a little.

Your breath catches. You take a sip of water so no one sees you smiling.

He notices.

In the hallway later, you walk past him again.

Still no hat. Still no comment.

But your eyes flick to his hair. Just a second. Barely.

He sees it.

You feel it.

You keep walking.

He stares after you with a face like he just lost and won something at the same time.

That night, on the deck you’re sitting on a bench. The sea’s quiet.

Law walks out. Stretches. No hat.

He sits beside you.

You don’t look at him. Not directly. But you feel warm.

“You’re quiet” he says.

You nod “I’m relaxed.”

“…You didn’t say anything again.”

You blink up at him “About what?”

He gives you a look. You give him an innocent one back.

Then he leans just a little closer.

“…You’re blushing” he says.

Your hand flies to your cheek “What—no, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“You’re seeing things.”

He smirks “So it’s back to this.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands “I hate you.”

He chuckles. It’s soft. Real.

“…You don’t” he says quietly.

You peek through your fingers “Yeah. I don’t.”

It’s just the two of you on the deck again.

Stars above. Waves below. Silence between.

Law leans on the railing beside you. No hat. Hair soft in the wind. He doesn’t say anything at first.

Then, he sighs “I stopped wearing it because of you.”

You blink “Huh?”

“The hat,” he says, looking straight ahead “You said I looked better without it. So I stopped.”

You freeze.

“You never noticed,” he adds, “or at least, you pretended not to.”

You cover your mouth with your hand “Oh my god.”

He looks over, eyebrow raised “So?”

You laugh nervously “So what?”

“Why do you like me better without it?”

You panic.

“Put it back on.”

“What?”

“I’m begging you. Just… wear it. Please.” You wave your hand in the air, still looking anywhere but his face “Where is it? I’ll go get it for you.”

Law stares “You didn’t answer my question.”

You cover your face “I hate you.”

“That’s not new,” he says calmly “Why?”

You groan “Because—ugh. Because you look cute, okay? And kinda sexy.”

He blinks.

Still not looking at him, you mumble, “Your hair’s a little messy and I like it. It makes you look more… real. And softer. And… you have those few white hairs near your temple and I really, really love them.”

Silence.

You squeeze your eyes shut “There. Happy now?”

You still don’t look up.

He doesn’t speak.

You frown “What, now you’re gonna bully me forever?”

“…No” he says quietly.

You peek at him and see he’s staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“You… like the white hair?”

You groan again, turning away “Law, please, don’t make me say it twice. Once was already enough embarassing.”

He’s quiet. Then—

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well. Now you do.”

A pause.

“I like when you blush” he says suddenly.

Your head snaps around “What?!”

He smirks “Just saying.”

You throw your jacket at him and stomp off, face burning, heart racing.

Behind you, he catches the jacket… and smiles.

You avoid him for a full day after the "cute and sexy" comment.

You help Bepo with supplies. You eat fast and leave faster. You talk to everyone but Law.

You pretend you’re totally fine.

You are not fine.

You’re hiding in the engine room, checking things that don’t need checking, when he finds you.

He leans in the doorway, arms crossed. Hatless. Hair all soft and wild, like he knows exactly what he's doing.

“Hey” he says.

You glance over “Hey.”

He walks in. Slow. Casual.

You take a step back and bump into a crate.

He doesn’t stop “You running from me?”

“No...” you lie badly.

He’s in front of you now “You said I looked sexy.”

Your face catches fire instantly “I did not say it like that.”

“I remember it clearly.” He tilts his head “Kinda sexy. That’s what you said.”

You look away fast “Do you need something or are you just here to bully me?”

He hums “You said my hair was cute too.”

“I say lots of dumb things.”

“I don’t think it was dumb.”

You look at the wall. The ceiling. Anywhere but him.

Then his hand lifts and you freeze.

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. Gentle. Slow. Like he has all the time in the world.

You forget how breathing works.

Then his fingers trace just under your jaw, brushing your skin lightly before dropping.

You don’t move.

“Your face gets warm so fast” he murmurs, voice low, amused “It’s kinda cute.”

You finally snap your head toward him, flustered “You’re evil.”

He shrugs “Just saying.”

You push past him, heart pounding, cheeks on fire.

And Law watches you go, smiling like he’s finally having fun.

Law’s wearing the hat again... Big, fluffy, dramatic.

You see it as soon as he walks into the main room where everyone’s gathered. You blink like it’s a ghost.

He sits down with a book like nothing happened.

But you know something’s off.

You lean toward Shachi “Since when is he wearing it again?”

Shachi grins “Since everyone started teasing him about looking too soft without it.”

Penguin laugh “Bepo told him he looked like someone's husband.”

You blink.

“…He does” you mutter before your brain can stop your mouth.

Then you look away fast. Arms crossed. Pouting a little without meaning to.

Law doesn’t react. He’s pretending to read, but you know he’s listening.

You mutter under your breath, “Why wouldn’t y’all mind your business…”

You think it’s quiet.

It is not quiet.

The room goes dead silent.

“HUHHH?” Penguin points “What did you say?!”

Shachi is cackling “Wait wait wait—did you just say—??”

Even Bepo’s blinking slowly like he just unlocked the final puzzle piece.

Law doesn’t look up, but one ear definitely twitches.

You slap a hand over Shachi's mouth “No I didn’t. Shut up.”

“Ohhhh my god,” Shachi gasps freeing himself “That’s why he stopped wearing it.”

Penguin: “That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when he put it back on!”

You groan into your hands.

Bepo: “Captain… this is kinda romantic.”

Law finally speaks, dry as sand “I can and will throw all of you into the sea.”

They ignore him.

Shachi elbows you “So you’re the reason he had his hair out for, like, a week straight?”

You glare at the floor “Stop talking to me.”

Penguin grins “You’re blushing again!”

“Stop looking at me!”

Law stands up “Enough.”

Everyone freezes.

He walks to you. Calm. Slow. Hat still on.

He leans just a little closer, voice low.

“…You want me to take it off again?”

You pause. Swallow.

“Maybe...”

The crew explodes.

After the teasing dies down (a full hour later), you escape. You need to breathe. Your face has been hot for too long and your heart is doing laps.

You find a quiet spot near the back deck, away from the noise.

And of course he finds you again. Hat off now.

Just him, wind, and that look he gives only you.

He walks over slowly, hands in his coat pockets “They were loud.”

You sigh “They were monsters.”

He smirks “You’re the one who said it out loud.”

“It was a whisper.”

“Not really.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. A real one.

He steps a little closer “You still mad I wore the hat again?”

You glance up at him “Maybe.”

He’s watching you.

You’re watching his hair again.

You reach up without thinking, fingers sliding gently into it.

Soft. Messy. Warm.

You ruffle it, grin wide “There you are.”

Law freezes.

He’s been touched before. Fought. Treated. Pat by Bepo. Whatever.

But this...

Your smile. The laugh in your eyes. Your fingers brushing through his hair like it’s the easiest thing in the world...

His heart does a full backflip.

Something cracks open.

He looks at you like he’s seeing sunlight for the first time.

“You’re perfect” he says before his brain can stop him.

You blink “What?”

He steps closer. You drop your hand.

He takes your wrist, gently. Just holds it.

“I said,” he murmurs, “you’re perfect.”

You stare.

“You’re serious?” you whisper.

He nods.

So you lean in, slowly. Nervous. Testing.

He meets you halfway.

It’s soft. Warm. A little awkward, like two people who definitely thought about this for too long.

But it’s real.

When you pull back, his eyes are still half-closed.

You grin “So... you gonna keep the hat off for me or what?”

He leans his forehead to yours “I might burn it.”

You both stand there for a second.

Your heart’s still racing. His fingers are still lightly holding your wrist.

Then you laugh. A small one at first, then bigger. Bright.

He raises an eyebrow “What’s funny?”

You grin, cheeks warm “I mean, I actually like the hat too.”

He tilts his head “You do?”

“Yeah,” you nod “It helps me not have a nosebleed every time I look at you.”

He blinks “What?”

You shrug, playful “Not for real, but… close.”

He snorts “You’re ridiculous.”

You wink “I try.”

Then he smiles soft, real.

“I know,” he says, “I’m joking about it though. This hat’s actually important to me.”

You nod “I figured.”

“But,” he adds, stepping a little closer again, “I do enjoy the fact that without it, you get always so… flustered.”

You pout immediately.

Cross your arms. Look away.

“Have you finished bullying me?”

He chuckles, slow and warm.

Then you feel something soft land on your head.

You blink.

He’s placed the hat on you.

Big. Fuzzy. Covers almost your whole head.

His hand gently pats the top of it.

“You look cute with it” he says quietly.

You turn to him, only your eyes visible under the fluff.

“Didn't think you’re such a menace...” you mumble, heat creeping up your face again.

He smiles again.

“You’re cute either way.”

You cover your face with both hands under the hat “I’m gonna scream.”

He hums “That would be fair.”

[kitchen-spoon]

It was a Rainy day in April when the ER doors flew open and Eddie was called over to an ambulance that just pulled in. A gurney was being guided out the back and on it lay the most beautiful man Eddie had ever seen. Tan, and muscular in a basketball jersey covered in mud. Somehow even soaking wet and dirty the mans hair was immaculate. His head was thrown back in pain, eyes squeezed shut as he gripped at his swollen very dislocated knee.

Normally being a head orthopaedic surgeon he wouldn’t be down in the pit but, chicago Easts E.R lost power due to the storm and has started referring everything over to them. It was all hands on deck right now.

“Put him in trauma room 2, I’ll take care of it, it’s a simple dislocation.” Eddie ordered. He followed them inside and helped transfer the man over onto the bed. “Someone tell me who this guy is.” He called out exasperated.

“Steve Harrington.” The man - Steve pipped up.

“Thank you.” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. He took Steve’s chart away and shooed everyone else from the room.

He approached the bed again, gloved hands settling on Steve swollen purpling knee. Steve hissed at the slightest touch of the area. His kneecap was raised and twisted to the left.

“Your knee is dislocated Steve, its swollen but once its re-located the swelling will go down with some elevation and icing. Also, You should wrap your knee for the next month if your going to be playing sports again.”

“All that without any X-rays or tests?” Steve chuckled. One of his eyes was squinted open and he was smirking at Eddie, his eyebrow raised.

Eddie wasn’t one to brag but, he also wasn’t one to waste a chance to peacock a little in the name of flirting with a tan, hairy, muscular man with perfect hair.

“I’m the head orthopaedic surgeon in this hospital. I deal with much more complicated circumstances than this everyday.” Eddie shrugged, smirking back.

“Why do I get the best of the best then if i’m just a simple dislocation?” Steve’s body didn’t tense up this time when Eddie touched him, too distracted to notice yet. “Did you get in trouble or something?” He giggled.

“No.” Eddie looked up at him, smiling proudly as he spoke. “I’m head of my my department Sweetheart, and I’m good at what I do. Best of the best like you said.”

Steve finally winced, looking down as Eddie lined his hands up, he didn’t apply any pressure yet. “The Chicago East ER is shut down so we are taking the over flow from the storm.” Eddie continued on, he watched Steve face as he gripped his knee.

“Guess I just got lucky then.” Steve laughed tightly.

“I’ll make it as quick and painless as I can Stevie.” Eddie said as he locked eyes with Steve’s wide hazel doe eyes. He looked like a baby deer it made Eddie’s heart squeeze. “On the count of 3 Stevie, you got this.”

Steve nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. He counted out, “one…two..”

Eddie braced his feet on the floor and bent his knees on one. And on two he forced Steve’s leg straight and pushed his kneecap back over.

“Mother fucker.” Steve grit through his clenched jaw. His hand reached out and landed on Eddie’s forearm gripping tight.

Once his knee was in place Eddie let go and held Steve’s hand instead. “Good job sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” Steve replied automatically, then blushed when he caught himself.

“I’ll wrap your knee, remember to ice it.” Eddie got up and grabbed the stretch bandages from the cart.

He wrapped Steve’s knee methodically, occasionally looking up to check on Steve. Every time he did Steve was laying there with his eyes closed a smile on his face.

“All done.” Eddie said quietly as he finished, he didn’t want to startle Steve. Instead he slid a hand up Steve’s outer thigh.

Steve laid there for another 10 seconds then opened his eyes and looked to Eddie, silently reaching a hand up to ask for help.

Eddie complied of course, he slid his hands into Steve’s and gently pulled the man up. Once he was sitting up Steve didn’t let go of Eddies hands. “Are you single Eddie the head orthopaedic surgeon?”

Eddie smiled, “I am. But how old are you.” Eddie was hopeful but he still wanted to ask. He wasn’t going to date a college student at 35.

“I’m 29.” Steve sounded hopeful.

“I’m 35,” Eddie squeezed his hands.

“Take my number?” Steve bit his lip.

It was Eddie’s turn to blush as he nodded, grabbing the note pad off the supply cart.

Steve wrote his number in big swoopy strokes and singed his name off with a heart. He handed it to Eddie then got up off the chair. “Call me.” He whispered in Eddie’s ear as he passed by, placing a hand on his shoulder. The fingers on his free hand rested on Eddie’s chin turning it towards him, he leaned in slowly, eyes watching Eddie closely until their lips finding touch and they slipped closed. He ended the kiss off biting Eddie’s lip, dragging it between his teeth has he pulled away.

“Bye Eddie.” He whispered, then turned away walking out of the trauma room.

Eddie watched him go, and when he couldn’t see him any longer he looked down at the paper with Steve’s number and bit his own lip.

The moment didn’t last long, a nurse crashing through the door and calling him over to a trauma bay. He put Steve’s number in his pocket and tied his hair up, heading over to his next patient.

[hummingbird24220]

Can I please request reader gifting sanji a new tie. It's one of those gimic types (shaped like a fish or with a naked lady underneath type) and he appreciates the gift so he has to wear it but reader keeps gifting him increasingly ugly ties until sanji eventually breaks and has to tell him that while he loves the gifts he can't take one more ugly tie.

(Sorry for all the sanji! I definitely have a favourite, hope you don't get bored of writing for him <3)

Anon, do not apologise. I too, like you, have an obsession with this man. I could write about him for DAYYYYYYS.

I really liked this prompt^^ as a lot of fun to write.

Enjoy!

--

Tie-ranny

Sanji x reader

The first tie was a joke. You swore it was a joke.

It was a silk monstrosity in the shape of a koi fish—glossy, orange, and just the slightest bit too anatomically accurate. You found it in a tiny market stall on an island known for its quirky fashion, and you immediately thought of Sanji.

Because of course you did.

The man wore suits like second skin, cooked like a god, and smoked like a noir protagonist. He had style. He had grace. He needed a stupid tie shaped like a fish.

So, naturally, you bought it.

You approached him in the galley after dinner service, when most of the crew was lounging about the deck, nursing full stomachs and half-lidded eyes. Sanji was wiping down the counters, still wearing his signature black shirt and that sleek, boring tie.

Time to change that.

“Sanji,” you chirped, hands behind your back. “I got you something.”

He glanced up, smiling instantly. “For me? Mon amour, you shouldn’t have.”

You snorted. “Trust me, I probably shouldn’t have. But here.”

You revealed the tie like it was a weapon. The way his smile twitched said he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t.

He took it gently, inspecting the silky koi fish with a kind of cautious reverence. “...It’s a tie,” he said, after a beat.

“Not just a tie. A statement.”

Sanji paused, then let out a light chuckle. “It’s definitely saying something.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “You hate it.”

“I love it,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “No one’s ever given me a tie before. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

You blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Of course.” He smiled at you—warm, charming, and with just a hint of terror behind the eyes. “Merci, my dear.”

You were kind of joking. But now you were also kind of obsessed.

The next morning, Sanji wore the tie.

He actually wore it.

Full suit. Polished shoes. Orange koi fish flopping limply down his chest.

Zoro nearly fell overboard laughing. Usopp asked if it was cursed. Luffy tried to eat it. But Sanji—oh, bless his elegant little soul—kept his head high, his tie straight, and served breakfast with the air of a Michelin-star chef who had absolutely not lost a bet.

You were delighted.

He was doomed.

You gave him a second tie a week later.

This one was a standard black, but when pulled, it flipped up to reveal a tiny cartoon woman in a bikini winking suggestively. Sanji paled when he discovered this—after wearing it to serve tea to Robin and Nami.

He wore it for three days out of sheer politeness.

The third tie played “La Cucaracha” when touched. The fourth one glowed in the dark. The fifth? A neon green knitted monstrosity with googly eyes stitched on like some kind of haunted seaweed.

You were testing him now. You had to be.

And Sanji—poor, noble, increasingly sweaty Sanji—endured them all.

But something in his eye had started to twitch.

-

Sanji didn’t cry.

But he did sigh like a man who had seen war.

“This one sparkles,” he said faintly, holding up tie number six between two fingers like it might bite. “It’s—bedazzled.”

“Exactly,” you grinned. “It matches your sparkling personality, Sanji-kun~”

He blinked slowly. “I don’t sparkle.”

“You do in my heart.”

He paused. “...That’s very sweet,” he said, voice hollow. “Excuse me while I go make dinner and question everything I’ve ever known about fashion.”

The next time you docked on an island, you dragged Zoro along on your usual supply run. Not because you liked him (you didn’t—he was a menace), but because he owed you a favor and you wanted a pack mule.

You didn’t expect him to actually get into it.

“Oho,” Zoro said, plucking a tie from a dusty clearance bin like it was Excalibur. “This one’s got a cat riding a shark. That’s a power move.”

You gasped. “Oh my god. And look, this one’s got… is that a chili pepper? With sunglasses??”

“Hell yeah it is.”

Suddenly, you and Zoro were in the middle of the store, doubled over with laughter, holding up increasingly cursed neckwear like you were art collectors discovering lost masterpieces.

“What about this one?” Zoro asked, barely holding it together. “It’s a chicken. But with abs.”

“Sanji would hate that.”

“Then we’re buying it.”

It became a game. A secret mission. Operation: Drive Sanji Mad With Fashion.

The tie haul that day was devastating:

One with a holographic dancing skeleton.

One that said “HOT STUFF” in flaming Comic Sans.

One with googly eyes that rattled when he moved.

A skinny tie that looked like a strip of bacon.

You didn’t even try to hide your glee.

And the worst part? Sanji still wore them.

Maybe not with pride. Maybe not even with dignity. But with a kind of resigned, tragic elegance—as if he’d accepted this was his life now, a living shrine to the gods of bad taste.

“Y/N…” he said one afternoon, when you handed him a tie shaped like a squid.

“Uh-huh?”

He looked at you. You looked back, all innocence and sunshine.

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Sighed.

“…Merci,” he whispered, like it hurt.

Back on the Sunny, Zoro leaned on the railing, watching Sanji stir soup with his squid tie flapping obscenely against his chest.

“You think he’s gonna snap soon?” Zoro asked, sipping his drink.

You leaned beside him, smug. “I’m giving him three more ties. Maybe two if I find the one with the whoopee cushion.”

Zoro grinned. “Let me know when you go shopping again.”

The alliance had been forged. The chaos was escalating.

And Sanji?

Well, he was hanging on by a thread.

A very ugly thread.

--

The final tie was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. Which is exactly why you bought it.

It was fuzzy. It was fluorescent. It had two giant googly eyes, a felt tongue that dangled like an accusation, and a built-in squeaker that wheezed every time it moved.

Zoro saw it first.

He stared at it for a long moment, then simply muttered, “Oh, he’s gonna die.”

You nodded solemnly. “Or finally confess his sins.”

You presented it to Sanji after dinner, the rest of the crew scattered and full and blissfully unaware of the oncoming storm. You held the box like it was a precious heirloom.

“Sanji,” you beamed. “From me to you.”

He froze. You saw his soul briefly leave his body before he schooled his face into that familiar, worn-out smile.

“For me?” he said, voice soft like a dying man’s last words.

You nodded with dangerous excitement. “It squeaks.”

There was a long silence as he lifted the lid. His face didn’t change. Not at first. But you saw the exact moment his spirit cracked.

His eye twitched. His cigarette drooped. And then—very gently—he closed the lid.

“Y/N,” he said.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You froze. “Wait, what?”

“I love you,” he repeated, fast now, like he was running downhill with no brakes. “I love your smile and your laugh and the way you talk to my soup like it’s alive. I love your voice in the morning and how you hum when you’re bored and yes, even how you and the mosshead formed some unholy alliance to torture me with these godforsaken ties.”

You were completely stunned.

Sanji took a breath. “But if you give me one more tie that squeaks, glows, sings, or looks like it crawled out of a clown’s nightmare—I will burst into flames. And not in the charming, smoldering way. In the literal spontaneous combustion way.”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Then blinked. “...So you’re saying you do like them?”

Sanji stared at you.

You grinned. “You do!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Mon Dieu, please spare me.”

But you stepped closer and leaned in, voice soft now. “You could’ve told me from the start, you know.”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You’ve worn a tie that said ‘Grill Me Daddy.’ I think we're past shame.”

That got a reluctant laugh from him.

You reached into your bag and pulled out one last item—not a tie this time, but a sleek, dark blue one with a subtle embroidered pattern. Tasteful. Elegant. Something that actually matched his wardrobe.

He blinked. “Wait… this one’s not hideous.”

You shrugged. “Well, I did get you like eleven gag ties already. Thought you earned one nice one.”

Sanji looked at you like you’d just handed him the moon. “...Thank you,” he said quietly.

You smiled. “You’re welcome, Mr. Grill Me Daddy.”

He groaned again—but this time, when he tugged you in for a hug, he didn’t let go.

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

I just read your post about reader being a total badass when another girl is trying to take her man, can we get a reverse one? Where reader is being flirted with?

Seriously it was so good!

In which, the MHA boys react to the reader being flirted with.

Characters included: Dabi (Touya Todoroki), Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Tomura Shigaraki, Izuku Midoriya, Hitoshi Shinso, Hanta Sero.

Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

The bar was packed, the air thick with smoke and whiskey. You were leaning against the counter in a black minidress, waiting for your drink, when some random guy slid up beside you.

"Hey, sweetheart," he smirked. "What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I have a boyfriend, fuck off.”

“That’s what they all say. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” he continued with a sly grin, placing a hand on top of yours.

You didn’t even get a chance to respond before a strong, scarred arm looped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.

Dabi.

His voice was low. "Alone?" He chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That’s cute."

The guy hesitated, realizing who you were. Everyone knew that Dabi was the most wanted S-class villain. His amber eyes flicking between you and Dabi. "I didn’t realize—"

"Yeah, you didn’t." Dabi tilted his head, blue flames sparking at his fingertips. "Start running."

The guy? Gone in seconds.

Dabi kissed your neck, chuckling. "I love scaring off idiots. You’re fun bait, doll."

Katsuki Bakugo

It was a normal day at the gym—until some dumbass decided today was the day to test Bakugo’s patience.

You were warming up, minding your business, when some cocky asshole strolled up. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to you, clearly checking you out.

"Wow," he whistled, looking you up and down. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because damn, you’re—"

Before he could finish, a handful of explosions went off beside him, making him stumble back with a yell.

Katsuki stood there, arms crossed, eyes blazing with fury.

"The hell you just say to my girl, dickwad?" His eyes were narrowed, boring holes into the other guy’s soul. Wow, Katsuki sure was hot when he was so protective over you.

“Woah there man—” The guy backed away slowly, turning around and speedwalking out of the area.

Katsuki grabbed your wrist, pulling you close. "Ya good, dollface? He touch you?”

You smirked. "Jealous much?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, but his grip on you didn’t loosen.

Shoto Todoroki

It was a simple coffee run, or at least it was supposed to be. Shoto was at the counter, waiting for both of your orders while you sat in one of the booths, scrolling mindlessly on your phone.

Without warning, some smooth-talking guy slid into the seat beside you. "Hey," he smiled, "Mind if I join you?"

Before you could answer, two cups of coffee were placed before you. “I mind.”

You tilted your chin up to meet Shoto’s mismatched eyes. "You’re flirting with my girlfriend." His tone was calm but you could tell that he was annoyed. The air around you had become cold, something that happened whenever someone managed to push your boyfriend’s buttons.

The guy blinked. "Uh—"

Shoto didn't even look at him. He slid into the seat next to you. Interlocking your fingers. "I don’t share," he murmured.

The guy practically tripped over himself leaving.

“Sho.” You giggled, looking at him.

Shoto sipped his coffee like nothing happened. "Yes, love?”

Hanta Sero

The two of you were at an arcade, laughing as you played games together, until some guy decided to interrupt. He was tall, decked in all black and had a flirtatious smile.

"Hey," he grinned, stepping between you and Hanta. "I’ve been watching you for a while… maybe I could get your number?”

Hanta stood infront of you, blocking you from the other guy’s sight.

"Oh, for sure," he said with a sly grin, right before launching a strand of tape at the guy. Who barely had time to react before he was yanked backward, stuck against the wall, arms pinned to his sides. “What the heck man?”

Hanta wrapped an arm around your shoulder, still grinning. "Oops. Looks like you’re busy."

You giggled. "You’re evil."

"Only when people try to steal my girl."

Eijiro Kirishima

You and Eijiro were strolling through the festival, the glow of lanterns reflecting in his bright red eyes as you both enjoyed the sights and food stalls. The night was perfect—until some overconfident idiot decided to ruin it.

"Hey there hot stuff," the guy smirked, stepping a little too close. "Why don’t you ditch the kid and have a real man show you a good time?"

Your red-head boyfriend stopped mid-bite of his takoyaki. Slowly, he turned to face the guy, a sharp grin stretching across his face.

"Hey, man," he said, cracking his knuckles as his quirk activated with a sickening crunch. His fists hardened into razor-sharp stone, glinting under the festival lights. “What are your intentions?”

The guy paled, taking a cautious step back. "Dude, chill, I was just—"

"Just…?” Eijiro tilted his head. The guy nodded furiously before bolting into the crowd. You started laughing, holding onto your stomach as you doubled over.

Kirishima sighed, turning back to you with a pout. "Babe, do I really not look scary? I thought I was at least a little intimidating."

You tried to hold back a laugh but failed. "Eiji, you’re too adorable to be scary."

His jaw dropped. "Too adorable? Babe, I literally just made a guy run for his life!"

You grinned, poking his cheek. "Exactly. Cute, but effective."

Eijiro groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. "Man, this is terrible for my reputation."

But he still laced his fingers with yours, grinning as he led you toward the next food stall—because honestly? He’d rather be your cute boyfriend than be scary any day.

Tomura Shigaraki

The Villain’s Den was loud, pulsing with heavy bass and neon lights. The club was a known hotspot for the worst of the worst—rogue assassins, yakuza, underground black-market dealers. It was the kind of place where rules didn’t exist, where people only stepped on each other’s toes if they wanted a death wish.

You were sitting at the bar, sipping on something strong and expensive, watching the dance floor where bodies grinded together, the flashing red and blue lights reflecting in their hungry eyes.

Shigaraki was next to you, one arm slung lazily over the back of your stool, his other hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey. He wasn’t much for crowds, but he tolerated them when it meant keeping an eye on you.

It was almost peaceful.

A cocky-looking bastard slid into the stool beside you, his breath reeking of liquor and weed. He was built like someone who thought he was untouchable—broad shoulders, expensive rings on his fingers, tattoos from head to toe.

He looked at you like you were something to win.

"Didn’t expect to see someone as fine as you in a place like this," he drawled, tilting his head. "What do you say I buy you a drink, huh? Lose the zombie-lookin’ guy and come have a good time."

Before you could rip him apart yourself, a scarred hand landed on your thigh, fingers slipping just under the material of your crimson minidress.  Tomura didn’t look up. Didn’t need to.

"Touch her again," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music, but somehow more chilling than the bass drop. "And I’ll make sure they’re scraping your remains off the floor by morning."

The guy hesitated. He turned to look at Shigaraki properly, taking in the red-rimmed eyes, the baby blue, almost white hair, the twisted smile and the slow, casual way he tapped his thumb against his glass.

Realization hit.

The color drained from the guy’s face. He swallowed hard. "Shit, man—I didn’t know it was—"

"You do now." Shigaraki’s fingers flexed, his grip tightening just enough to send a very clear message. The guy stood up immediately.

He pushed off the stool so fast it nearly tipped over, bolting into the sea of criminals like he could outrun death itself.

You sighed, sipping your drink. "Tomu.” You whined. “You’re no fun. I was kinda hoping you’d let me handle that one."

He finally turned his attention to you. His fingers brushed higher up your thigh, his other hand setting his empty glass down with a soft thunk.

"You okay?"

You smirked. "That was kinda hot."

A deep, amused chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Damn right it was."

Izuku Midoriya

The All Might-themed merch store was bright, filled with limited-edition action figures, posters, and collectibles. You and Izuku were wandering through the aisles, fingers intertwined as he excitedly rambled about the latest All Might figurine that had just been released. His eyes were practically glowing as he pointed at the details, completely in his element.

You loved seeing him like this.

A random stranger, dressed in a cocky grin and an oversized jacket, strolled right up to you. "What’s cookin, good lookin’?," he purred, completely ignoring Izuku standing right beside you.

You blinked. Seriously?

Izuku, mid-sentence, froze. The guy leaned against the shelf, flashing you what he probably thought was a charming smile. "How about you ditch the nerd and come get a coffee with me?"

Izuku’s eyes darkened. His usual soft expression shifted into something serious.  "Excuse me," he said, shoulders squaring as he stepped in front of you. His voice was calm—too calm. "She’s with me."

The guy laughed, clearly underestimating him. "Relax, dude. I’m just saying she could do better than some fanboy who—"

Izuku moved so fast the guy didn’t see it coming.

The entire shelf behind him rattled, a gust of air bursting through the store as Izuku’s foot lightly tapped against the floor. He hadn’t even used his full strength—just enough to shake the ground beneath them.

The guy stumbled, eyes wide. "Wh-what the hell?"

Izuku didn’t even blink. Didn’t move. Just looked him dead in the eye. "You were saying?" The guy bolted.

Izuku let out a small breath, turning back to you. The moment his eyes met yours, his serious expression melted, a sheepish smile replacing it. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

You smirked. "Wow, Izu. That was kinda hot."

Izuku turned bright red. "D-Don’t say stuff like that!"

You just laughed, lacing your fingers with his again. "C’mon, fanboy. Show me more of these All Might figures."

Izuku, still blushing, happily obliged.

Denki Kaminari

The arcade was loud, packed with people, flashing lights, and the sounds of game machines beeping wildly. You and Denki were on a date night, sharing a bucket of popcorn while he tried (and failed) to beat you at air hockey.

"I swear you’re cheating," he pouted as you scored another point. You smirked, twirling the paddle in your hand. "I don’t need to cheat to beat you, baby."

Denki groaned. "Ouch, but again… why’s that kinda hot?."

Before you could serve again, a random dude appeared at your side, looking far too smug for someone who hadn’t been invited.

"Hey," he said, completely ignoring Denki. "I saw you playing and had to come over. You’re pretty good. Bet you’d have more fun playing against me... or maybe, with me?"

Denki froze. Then, ever so slowly, he turned his head toward the guy, blinking like he’d just heard the dumbest thing in existence.

You sighed, already unamused. "No thanks. I’m here with my boyfriend."

The guy didn’t even react. "What, the walking pikachu? He doesn’t seem like much competition."

Oh. Oh, that was a mistake.

Denki let out a low whistle, tossing his paddle onto the table. "Bro. That’s crazy," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I could fry your nervous system in a second, but hey, points for confidence."

The guy visibly tensed but tried to play it off cool. “You’re bluffing.”

Denki grinned, leaning in slightly. His fingers sparked. "Am I?”

A tiny bolt of electricity shot from his fingertips, buzzing through the air right past the guy’s ear. Not enough to hurt—just enough to remind him what quirks existed.

The guy bolted.

Denki laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Man, you really attract the idiots, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "You jealous?"

Denki pouted. "Maybe."

You kissed his cheek. "Don’t be. You’re the only idiot I like."

He beamed. "Damn right I am."

Hitoshi Shinso

It was late at night, and you and Hitoshi were sitting outside a small ramen shop, enjoying the quiet hum of the city. The neon lights flickered, casting soft purple and blue hues against his face as he lazily stirred his noodles.

You loved moments like these—just the two of you, no distractions, no expectations.

Until some jackass decided to ruin it.

A man—cocky, unbothered, and absolutely unaware of what he was walking into—slid into the empty seat beside you.

"Hey," he said, flashing you a grin. "Are your parents beavers? Cause damn!"

You stared at him. Hitoshi did not react.

"You know," the guy continued, completely oblivious to the danger he was in, "a pretty thing like you shouldn’t waste time with a guy who looks like he hasn’t slept in ten years."

Hitoshi, mid-bite, finally blinked. He set his chopsticks down slowly, exhaling through his nose before resting his chin on his palm.

"Oh?" His voice was smooth. "That’s funny."

The guy smirked. "What is?"

Hitoshi just tilted his head, purple eyes glowing slightly. "That you think you have a chance."

And then, before the guy could react, Hitoshi activated his quirk.

"Be a good little idiot," he commanded, his voice low, silky, lethal. "And leave."

The guy’s face went blank. He stood up immediately, turning on his heel and walking straight into the street, disappearing into the night like a puppet on strings.

You snorted. "That was overkill."

Hitoshi hummed, taking another bite of his ramen. "I could’ve made him trip into a dumpster."

You smirked. "Now that would’ve been hot."

Hitoshi chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re ridiculous."

"But you love me."

He sighed dramatically, giving you a lazy grin. "Yeah, yeah. Lucky me."

[mywhisperingwords]

never will be | fred g. weasley

summary: if one more person called fred your boyfriend, you were going to hex them—and then probably yourself for wishing it were true word count: 5.8k masterlist

“Seriously, though,” Angelina said, leaning against the Gryffindor common room sofa with a sly grin, “when are you two finally going to admit it?”

“Admit what?” Fred asked, looking up from the deck of Exploding Snap cards he was shuffling.

“That you’re dating,” George chimed in from across the room, tossing a chocolate frog wrapper into the fire.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “For the hundredth time, we’re not dating.”

“Not yet, at least,” Angelina muttered, smirking at you.

Fred laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just bored and trying to start drama.”

George snorted. “Says the bloke who can’t go two hours without dragging her off to help with one of his pranks.”

“That’s because she’s got steady hands,” Fred argued, flashing you a grin that made your stomach flip. “Best partner-in-crime I could ask for.”

“Mm-hmm,” George said, exchanging a knowing look with Angelina.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but forced a casual laugh. “Exactly. Partners-in-crime. Nothing more.”

Fred’s grin widened, oblivious to the way your voice faltered on the last words.

Later that evening, as you sat in your usual spot in the common room, Fred plopped down beside you, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

George and Angelina had finally left you alone, their laughter about your so-called “relationship” fading into the background.

Fred tossed a bright green bean into the air, catching it in his mouth. “Honestly, they’re relentless. Next thing you know, they’ll be planning our wedding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, definitely. George would insist on fireworks during the vows.”

“And Angelina would probably hex the cake to explode in my face,” Fred added, grinning.

“Not that you wouldn’t deserve it,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

Fred gasped dramatically. “Me? Deserve it? Please, I’d be the perfect groom. You, on the other hand…”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

Fred smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You’d probably spend the entire ceremony arguing with me about the flowers or the seating arrangements.”

“Only because you’d insist on something ridiculous, like having a Quidditch match instead of a reception,” you shot back, laughing.

“See? Proves my point,” Fred said, throwing another bean into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. The conversation was silly, but it sent a pang through your chest all the same. For a moment, you wondered—what if it weren’t so ridiculous? What if you weren’t just friends?

“Guess it’s a good thing we’d never actually be a couple,” you said lightly, testing the waters.

Fred snorted, not catching the slight hesitation in your voice. “You’ve got that right. Can you imagine? We’d probably kill each other within a week.”

Your smile faltered for a split second, but you quickly recovered, laughing along with him. “True. It would be a disaster.”

“An entertaining one, though,” Fred added, grinning at you.

You laughed again, but the ache in your chest lingered as his words played over in your mind. A disaster.

Fred, oblivious, tossed the box of beans onto the table and stretched his arms over his head. “Anyway, who needs all that relationship nonsense? We’re better off just being us.”

“Right,” you said softly, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “Just us.”

But as you watched Fred lean back, his expression carefree and content, you made a silent decision.

It was time to stop hoping for something that would never happen. It was time to move on.

A couple days later, Fred dropped into the seat next to you in the common room, his typical big grin directed at you. “Fancy sneaking out to the kitchens? I was thinking a snack, but maybe we could even go for a full-course meal if the house-elves are feeling generous.”

You didn’t look up from your book, keeping your voice steady. “Can’t. I’ve got plans tonight.”

Fred tilted his head, frowning. “Plans? With who?”

“Just plans,” you said vaguely, flipping a page.

Fred narrowed his eyes, studying you for a moment, but you didn’t elaborate. Eventually, he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Your loss. More food for me.”

You hummed noncommittally, keeping your gaze fixed on the words in front of you.

Later that evening, Fred was sprawled on the sofa near the fire, George and Lee arguing over a card game beside him. Angelina sauntered in, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

“Oi, Ang,” Fred called, waving her over. “What’s she up to tonight?”

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know who. She said she had plans.”

Angelina hesitated for half a second before smirking. “She’s got a date.”

Fred blinked, the words not registering immediately. “A date?”

“Yeah,” Angelina said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “With that bloke from Ravenclaw—what’s his name? Aaron? Aiden?”

“Andrew,” George supplied helpfully, grinning.

“Right. Andrew,” Angelina said, crossing her arms. “Apparently, he’s been asking her out for ages, and she finally said yes.”

Fred frowned, a strange tightness forming in his chest. “Huh.”

George glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Fred?”

“No,” Fred said quickly, shaking his head. “Why would there be?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, who raised an amused eyebrow. But neither of them said anything, much to Fred’s relief.

Meanwhile you were trying your best to focus on Andrew as he told you about his latest Quidditch practice. He was charming, handsome, and undeniably kind. Exactly the type of person you should be going out with.

But as much as you tried to stay engaged, your mind kept wandering. His laugh wasn’t quite as infectious. His jokes weren’t quite as sharp. And when he leaned in slightly to brush his hand against yours, your chest didn’t flutter the way you wanted it to.

You forced a smile, reminding yourself why you were here. Andrew had always been good to you, and after Fred’s clear rejection, it was time to stop holding onto something that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you alright?” Andrew asked, his voice soft as he studied your face.

“Yes,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Sorry, just a bit distracted. It’s been a long week.”

Andrew smiled, his eyes warm. “I get it. I’m glad you said yes, though. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

You felt a pang of guilt but managed another smile. “Me too.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Andrew deserved a chance, and you were determined to give it to him.

Still, as the evening wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder what Fred was doing. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thought that you wished he were sitting across from you instead.

You had done your best to steer clear of Fred over the past few days. You weren’t sure why, if someone dared to ask. Maybe you wanted to avoid telling him about your date or maybe talking to Fred would force you to acknowledge that moving on was harder than you thought.

It wasn’t easy, avoiding Fred, considering he had a knack for showing up everywhere you didn’t want him to be.

And, naturally, today was no exception.

“Oi!” Fred’s voice rang out from behind you as you made your way down the hallway after class. “Wait up!”

You considered pretending not to hear him, but the sound of his footsteps catching up told you there was no escaping this time.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside you. His usual grin was in place, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Haven’t seen much of you lately. Been avoiding me or something?”

You gave a half-hearted laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just… busy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Busy with what? Or should I say who?”

Your stomach twisted at the question, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Angelina mentioned you went on a date,” Fred said, his tone light and teasing, though his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. “Figured you’d be too busy swooning over this Andrew bloke to hang out with your real friends.”

You rolled your eyes, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. “It was just a date, Fred. No swooning involved.”

Fred tilted his head, studying you. “Come on. Spill. What’s he like? Is he as funny as me? Doubt it.”

You hesitated, your heart hammering as you searched his face for any hint of jealousy, any sign that this conversation bothered him. But Fred’s grin was firmly in place, his tone casual and carefree.

“He’s nice,” you said finally, keeping your voice even. “Really nice.”

Fred’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before returning. “Nice, huh? That’s a glowing review.”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” Fred said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe that he’s secretly boring or has terrible taste in music. Something I can mock him for.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, but it quickly faded as the tension in your chest tightened.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Well, if he’s so bloody great, maybe we should invite him to hang out with us sometime.”

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. “Are you serious?”

Fred shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Why not? He could use a proper Weasley test. See if he can keep up.”

You shook your head, muttering under your breath. “You’re impossible.”

Fred watched you closely, his grin slipping just enough to reveal the confusion beneath it. He didn’t know why the thought of you with Andrew left a sour taste in his mouth, but he was determined to ignore it.

Maybe it was just because he didn’t know the guy. Or because he didn’t want to lose his favorite partner-in-crime to some bloke from Ravenclaw. That had to be it.

Definitely not because he cared more than he should.

&

The common room buzzed with its usual post-dinner chaos. Fred was in his element, loudly challenging George to an Exploding Snap rematch after a questionable loss earlier, when you walked in with Andrew.

Fred’s laughter faltered for half a second, but he quickly covered it up with a grin. “Well, well, look who decided to join us. Ravenclaw royalty.”

“Hi, Fred,” you said, your voice neutral but carrying an edge of warning.

Andrew smiled politely, clearly unfazed. “Hey. I thought I’d take you up on your offer to hang out.”

“Brave of you,” Fred quipped, gesturing to the chaos around him. “We’re not exactly Ravenclaw standards of refined.”

Andrew chuckled. “I can handle it.”

George appeared beside Fred, grinning broadly. “Andrew, right? You’re the Quidditch guy. Chaser, yeah?”

“That’s me,” Andrew said, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Always nice to have another flyer in the group,” George said, clapping him on the back. “Ignore Fred if he gets too annoying.”

“Oi!” Fred protested, but George was already leading Andrew to the sofa, chatting about brooms and game strategies.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Play nice,” you muttered as you passed Fred, taking a seat near Angelina and Lee.

Fred watched as Andrew settled into the group, answering questions and laughing at everyone’s jokes with ease. His jaw tightened when Angelina leaned over to whisper, “He’s charming, isn’t he?”

“Sure,” Fred said, his voice flat.

An hour later, everyone seemed to be getting along swimmingly—except Fred.

He wasn’t outright rude to Andrew, but his usual teasing had a sharper edge tonight. Every time Andrew spoke, Fred had a quick quip or an exaggerated eye roll.

When Andrew mentioned his house winning the latest match, Fred chimed in with, “Ravenclaw’s strategy, isn’t it? Win the game, lose the fun.”

George elbowed Fred, but Andrew only laughed. “We take Quidditch seriously. Some of us, at least.”

Fred grinned tightly. “Right. Because fun has no place in sports.”

“Okay,” you interjected, cutting through the growing tension. “Who wants snacks? I’ll get some from the kitchens.”

“I’ll help,” Andrew offered, standing up.

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Fred before nodding. “Sure. Let’s go.”

After you and Andrew left the common room, Fred slumped back into his chair, muttering something under his breath.

“What’s your problem?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Problem? I don’t have a problem,” Fred said quickly.

“Sure you don’t,” Angelina said, smirking as she leaned against the armrest. “You’re only acting like a jealous git.”

Fred scoffed. “Jealous? Please. I just think he’s boring.”

George chuckled. “Yeah, he’s awful. Friendly, charming, loves Quidditch—how dare he?”

Fred scowled but didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the door you’d just walked through.

When you and Andrew returned, the evening had mostly calmed down. Fred kept to himself, though his eyes followed you whenever you weren’t looking.

As the group began to disband for the night, Andrew turned to you, his smile warm and easy. “I had a great time the other night. Do you think you’d want to do it again? Soon?”

Fred’s head snapped up at Andrew’s words, but he quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with his deck of cards.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering to Fred for just a moment. His usual grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and averted eyes. Ignoring him and the little voice in the back of your mind, you turned back to Andrew.

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that.”

Andrew’s grin widened. “Great. I’ll find you tomorrow to figure out the details.”

You nodded, and as Andrew left, you glanced back at Fred one last time. He was shuffling his cards with unnecessary force, avoiding your gaze entirely. Weird.

Over the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Andrew began to take shape. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life.

He wasn’t overly pushy or demanding, which you appreciated, and he had a way of making you laugh—though not quite as effortlessly as Fred could.

Still, it felt nice to have someone show genuine interest in you, even if the spark you were hoping for wasn’t quite there yet.

Of course, Andrew didn’t just win you over—he charmed everyone.

“Well, he’s bloody polite,” George said one evening after Andrew left the common room. “And he brought snacks. Can’t argue with that.”

Angelina nodded in agreement. “He’s sweet. You picked a good one.”

“Of course she did,” Fred muttered, slumping lower in his chair.

Lee gave Fred a side-eye. “You alright, mate? You’ve been acting off lately.”

“I’m fine,” Fred said quickly, grabbing a deck of cards and shuffling them with unnecessary vigor. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lee raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.

The thing was, Fred wasn’t fine.

He didn’t know what it was about Andrew that rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was how the bloke always seemed to be around now, sitting beside you in the common room or leaning in too close when you laughed at one of his jokes.

Fred told himself it was just the newness of it all. You’d always been his person—his partner-in-crime, his go-to for pranks, his late-night snack accomplice. And now Andrew was stealing you away.

It was irritating.

But Fred wasn’t jealous. Definitely not.

One afternoon, the group decided to head down to the lake to take advantage of the rare sunny weather.

Andrew and George carried the food, Angelina and Lee brought the blankets, and you walked ahead with Fred, your pace slowing as you chatted.

“So,” Fred said casually, kicking a stone along the path, “how’s Prince Charming?”

You gave him a look. “He has a name, you know.”

“Right. Andy.”

“Andrew,” you corrected, rolling your eyes.

“Same thing,” Fred said with a shrug.

You sighed. “He’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Fred said, though his tone was anything but casual. “Just wondering how long he plans to stick around.”

“Why? You planning to scare him off?” you asked, your voice teasing but laced with curiosity.

Fred grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before you could respond, Andrew called your name from behind, jogging to catch up with you.

Fred fell silent, his jaw tightening as Andrew slipped into step beside you, his hand brushing yours as he walked.

By the time you reached the lake, Fred was thoroughly annoyed.

As everyone settled on the blankets, Andrew took the spot beside you, leaning close to whisper something that made you laugh. Fred sat across from you, stabbing at his sandwich with unnecessary force.

“You alright there, Fred?” Angelina asked, nudging him with her foot.

“Fine,” Fred said tightly, taking an aggressive bite.

George smirked. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully bothered.”

Fred glared at his twin but said nothing.

As the sun began to set, Andrew offered to walk you back to the castle, and you accepted with a smile. Fred watched the two of you leave, his chest tightening as your laughter faded into the distance.

“Mate,” George said, clapping Fred on the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad.”

Fred scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” George said with a knowing grin.

If there was one thing Fred Weasley prided himself on, it was his ability to remain unshakable. Cool under pressure. Steady in the face of chaos.

Except, apparently, when Andrew was around.

“I’m just saying,” Fred declared loudly, leaning back in his chair with the kind of dramatic flair that immediately drew everyone’s attention, “no one is that nice. It’s suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Angelina repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Fred said, gesturing wildly as if this were common knowledge. “No one can laugh at every single joke. Even George’s bad ones.”

“Oi!” George protested, though he was grinning. “My jokes are masterpieces.”

Andrew, seated comfortably next to you, chuckled. “I don’t know, George. That one about the Blast-Ended Skrewts last week was a bit of a stretch.”

Fred’s eyes narrowed. “See? Right there. He’s even polite when he’s being critical. Who does that?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Fred, are you really mad because Andrew is nice?”

“I’m not mad!” Fred insisted, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I’m just… observant. He’s too nice. It’s unnatural.”

“Fred,” Lee said, struggling to keep a straight face, “I think you might be allergic to decent human behavior.”

The group erupted in laughter, and for a moment, even you couldn’t hide your amusement. But Fred wasn’t done yet.

“Mark my words,” Fred continued, pointing dramatically at Andrew, “this whole ‘charming and perfect’ act is going to crack one day. And when it does—”

Andrew held up his hands, laughing lightly. “Alright, you’ve got me. I’ll admit it: I burned toast once. Twice, actually. Sometimes I even leave the cap off the toothpaste.”

“Oh, the horror,” Lee said, clutching his chest mockingly. “Fred, are you sure we’re safe in his presence?”

Fred scowled, muttering something under his breath.

You shot him a look, your patience wearing thin. “Fred, if you’re so bothered by something, maybe you should do something about it.”

Fred blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in your tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, standing to grab a glass of water. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Fred watched you leave the room, the weight of your words settling uncomfortably in his chest.

“What’s her problem?” he muttered, glancing at the others.

Angelina snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

Fred frowned. “What?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, barely containing his laughter. “Oh, nothing,” George said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you acting like a jealous prat every time Andrew breathes in her direction.”

“I’m not jealous!” Fred shot back, his voice a little too loud.

“Sure you’re not,” Lee said, patting him on the shoulder.

Angelina leaned forward, her smirk practically glowing. “Fred, has it ever occurred to you that you’re not mad at Andrew? You’re mad because he’s with her, and you’re not.”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He shut it again, glaring at the lot of them as they burst into laughter.

“Honestly,” George said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen Blast-Ended Skrewts with more self-awareness.”

Fred groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all useless,” he muttered.

“Hey, we’re just here to point out the obvious,” Lee said with a grin. “The rest is up to you, lover boy.”

&

The Three Broomsticks was warm and bustling with chatter, the kind of lively atmosphere that could distract anyone from their troubles.

Fred leaned back in his chair, nursing a mug of butterbeer, and let the noise wash over him.

It had been weeks since he’d felt this at ease. For once, he wasn’t thinking about Andrew or the way he seemed to occupy every spare moment of your time.

Because, for the first time in a long while, it was just the group—George, Lee, Angelina, you, and him—laughing, joking, and bickering like always. And with you sitting across from him, grinning over the rim of your butterbeer as you teased George about his latest failed prank, Fred felt… content.

Comfortable. Like everything was back to normal.

But then the door to the pub opened, letting in a gust of cold air and a familiar figure.

Fred’s stomach twisted the moment he saw Andrew.

“Hey, everyone,” Andrew said, his smile easy and confident as he approached the table.

Fred tried to focus on his drink, on George cracking a joke, on literally anything else—but then Andrew leaned down, his hand brushing your shoulder, and kissed you.

It wasn’t long, just a brief, casual kiss on the lips, but it might as well have been a Bludger to Fred’s chest.

The laughter at the table carried on, the others welcoming Andrew like they always did, but Fred barely heard a word. His mind was spinning, his heart racing, and for the first time, he couldn’t keep up the denial.

It wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just protectiveness.

It was jealousy.

Pure, undeniable jealousy.

And it wasn’t just because Andrew had you—it was because Fred wanted you.

The realization hit him like a brick wall. Every time you laughed at Andrew’s jokes, every time you brushed his hand with yours, every time you smiled at him with that soft, affectionate look in your eyes—it burned.

Because Fred wanted to be the one making you laugh, holding your hand, earning your smiles.

But it wasn’t him. And now, sitting here, watching Andrew slide into the seat beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair, Fred finally understood why it hurt so much.

&

Fred paced the length of the Gryffindor common room like a man possessed, his hands raking through his hair as George, Angelina, and Lee lounged on the sofa, watching with varying degrees of amusement.

“She kissed him,” Fred muttered for the fiftieth time, his voice tinged with both disbelief and frustration.

“Yes, Fred,” Angelina said patiently, not bothering to hide her smirk. “We were all there. You don’t need to recap.”

“But—” Fred turned on his heel, his expression wild. “How did I not see it before? How did none of you tell me?”

George snorted. “Mate, we’ve been dropping hints for years. You’re just thick.”

“Excuse me?” Fred stopped pacing long enough to glare at his twin.

Lee chimed in, grinning. “He’s right, you know. It’s been painfully obvious to everyone but you. Honestly, we were starting to think you’d never figure it out.”

Fred groaned, collapsing into a chair and burying his face in his hands. “What am I supposed to do now? She’s happy with Andrew. I can’t just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You could do nothing,” Angelina suggested, crossing her arms. “Let her be happy. Maybe keep your mouth shut for once in your life.”

Fred glared at her. “Thanks for the support, Ang. Really helpful.”

“I’m just saying,” Angelina continued, shrugging. “If you care about her, maybe you don’t ruin things for her. It’s not about you, Fred.”

George tilted his head. “Or—and hear me out—you could tell her how you feel and let her decide.”

Lee grinned. “Or—and this is my favorite option—you stage an elaborate prank to scare off Andrew, then swoop in as the knight in shining armor.”

Fred groaned again, throwing his head back against the chair. “You’re all useless.”

“Hey, I’m giving you options,” Lee said defensively.

“Yeah,” George added. “And Angelina’s just saying what she’d do if she were you. Personally, I think you should grow a pair and tell her the truth.”

Fred shot him a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Angelina said, her tone softer now. “But you’ve got to figure it out, Fred. Otherwise, you’re just going to keep driving yourself—and the rest of us—mad.”

The sound of the portrait hole opening drew their attention, and there you were, stepping inside with your bag slung over one shoulder and a slight frown on your face.

Fred’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately sat up straighter, trying to look normal—which, of course, only made him look even more suspicious.

“Everything okay?” you asked, glancing between the group and Fred’s suspiciously guilty expression.

“Fine!” Fred said quickly, his voice a little too loud.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push, instead walking over to your usual spot by the fire. You dropped your bag on the floor and pulled out a stack of parchment, rifling through it with a small, frustrated sigh.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off you. It wasn’t anything special—just you being you—but the way your hair caught the firelight, the tiny furrow in your brow as you concentrated, the way you bit your lip when something didn’t go right…

In that moment, Fred knew.

Knew that no one else would ever make him feel the way you did. Knew that no one else would ever measure up to you. Knew that he couldn’t keep this to himself anymore.

Now he just had to figure out how to tell you.

“Merlin, he’s gone,” George muttered, nudging Angelina. “Look at him.”

Fred ignored them, his mind racing as he tried to think of something—anything—to say. But for once in his life, words failed him.

Fred had never been one to overthink things. Usually, he went with his gut, said whatever was on his mind, and dealt with the consequences later. But when it came to you, every plan he came up with seemed doomed from the start.

The first time he tried, it was on the way to Charms. He’d spotted you walking ahead, your bag slung over one shoulder and your hair bouncing as you moved. His heart did that stupid thing where it sped up, and before he could stop himself, he called your name.

“Hey,” you said, slowing to let him catch up.

“Hey,” he replied, suddenly feeling like his tongue had turned to lead.

You smiled at him, that warm, easy smile that made his chest ache. “What’s up?”

Fred opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Andrew appeared from the other direction.

“There you are,” Andrew said, grinning as he slipped an arm around your waist.

Fred’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “Right. See you in class,” he mumbled, walking off before either of you could reply.

The second attempt came during a group study session in the library.

Fred had been unusually quiet, his eyes darting to you every few seconds. You were sitting across from him, absently twirling your quill as you read over your notes.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, leaning forward.

You looked up, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

“I—”

“Shh!” Madam Pince hissed from across the room, glaring at Fred like he’d just set one of her precious books on fire.

Fred sighed, leaning back in his chair as George smirked beside him. “Smooth,” George muttered under his breath.

The third time wasn’t even his fault.

He’d waited until you were alone in the common room, curled up in your usual chair by the fire. It was late, and most of the others had gone to bed, leaving the room quiet and cozy.

Fred took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he approached. “Hey, can we talk?”

You looked up at him, your expression soft but curious. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Fred hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue. This was it. He just had to say it.

But before he could, Lee burst into the room, laughing loudly about something George had apparently done. The noise startled both of you, and whatever fragile moment had been building between you vanished in an instant.

Fred sighed, watching as you smiled politely at Lee’s antics before heading upstairs to your dorm.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Andrew was as kind and attentive as ever, but your heart wasn’t fully in it. You caught yourself zoning out during conversations, your mind drifting to memories of late-night laughs and pranks with Fred.

Andrew noticed.

“You’ve been a bit distant lately,” he said one evening as you sat together by the lake. His tone was calm but serious, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, though you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for.

Andrew smiled faintly, shaking his head. “We should talk. Really talk.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with unease and the underlying feeling of already knowing what was about to come.

&

The rain fell steadily, soaking through your cloak and chilling you to the bone, but you didn’t care. After your conversation with Andrew, you’d needed space to think, to feel, to breathe.

That was why you stayed in the same spot he left you in, even when it began to pour.

But tonight, the storm wasn’t just inside.

The sound of footsteps on the dock pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see Fred, his red hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his clothes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice carrying over the rain.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, looking equal parts frustrated and relieved. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the water. “Needed to think.”

Fred hesitated, then stepped closer, the wood creaking under his weight. “And you couldn’t think inside? Where it’s dry?”

You huffed a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Guess not.”

An awkward silence stretched between you as the rain continued to fall. Fred shifted on his feet, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something.

He hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through what he wanted to say.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he blurted finally, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “You’re out here in the rain, and I’m the idiot who followed you, and… Merlin, I don’t even know where to start.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression guarded. “Then don’t.”

Fred shook his head. “No, I have to. Because—because you drive me mad. You’re all I can think about, and it’s infuriating because I don’t even know when it started, but it’s just… there. All the time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice.

“You know, Andrew is… perfect, really. Kind, understanding. Says all the right things. And he’s right. He’s everything I should want.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “If he’s so perfect, then why are you out here? With me?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you blinked, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Why, if Andrew’s so perfect, are you standing out here in the rain with me instead of him?” Fred pressed, his voice soft but insistent.

Your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the truth spilled out. “Because he’s not you, Fred! He never was.”

Fred stared at you, his breath hitching as your words sank in.

You laughed bitterly, swiping at your wet face. “Andrew is kind and caring and everything I should want. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s not you. And that’s why we ended things. He knows he’s not the one I want to be with.”

Fred didn’t move for a moment, as though your words had stunned him. His wide eyes searched yours, raindrops slipping down his face, mingling with the uncertainty you saw flicker there.

But then, something shifted. Determination sparked in his gaze, and in one swift motion, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His hands, rough yet gentle, cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your rain-damp cheeks.

The kiss came like a thunderclap—fierce, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. His lips claimed yours with a desperation that stole the breath from your lungs, as though this was the only way he could make you understand everything he couldn’t say.

The rain blurred everything around you—the trees, the lake, the world itself—but Fred’s warmth anchored you. His hands trembled slightly against your skin, betraying the vulnerability beneath his boldness.

A soft gasp escaped you as your fingers curled into the fabric of his soaked shirt, pulling him closer instinctively. The rain had drenched you both, but Fred’s heat seeped through the layers, making you feel like nothing else mattered.

His lips moved against yours, earnest and unrelenting, as though he feared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tightly enough. And yet, there was no demand in his kiss, only a raw, aching need that left you dizzy.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Fred rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. His hands stayed on your face, as if letting go would break the fragile moment between you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but firm, his thumb brushing away the rain—or was it a tear?—from your cheek. “Forgive me?”

The rain continued to fall, cold and relentless, but it didn’t matter. Fred’s eyes searched yours, unguarded and full of something that made your chest ache.

“Always,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

Fred’s lips curved into the faintest smile before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less consuming.

From a distance, George and Lee watched from the cover of a nearby tree, Angelina holding an umbrella over them with a triumphant smirk.

“Told you,” George said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lee muttered, crossing his arms, but not before handing George the bag. “I still say it’s weird to bet on your brother’s love life.”

“Not when it’s this predictable,” Angelina chimed in, snatching a Galleon from the bag. “You’re welcome, by the way. I made this happen.”

“You did nothing,” George said, rolling his eyes. “They’re just idiots. Idiots in love.”

[wwccol]

The Signal: Gotham’s Daylight Guardian

The Batfamily is trying to unravel Duke's "daytime crime-busting secret" only to discover that it's literally just Duke being Duke—and looking like a terrifying eldritch being—it’s brilliant.

Tim: "Okay, I’ve been running the stats. Crime in Gotham during the day has dropped by, like, 40%. That’s not normal. Something’s going on."

Jason: "I say Duke’s been moonlighting as a Jedi or something. There’s no other explanation."

Duke: "I swear, I’m just... out there, doing my thing. Nothing fancy!"

Dick: "Right. Which is why we’re all suiting up and following you tomorrow. For science."

The next day, the Batfamily gathers on a rooftop near Wayne Tower, decked out in their suits, ready to tail Duke as discreetly as possible.

Jason: "Alright, Narrows, go do your thing. We’ll stay out of sight."

Duke (rolling his eyes): "You guys are making this way weirder than it needs to be. I’m just... patrolling."

Dick: "That’s exactly what makes it suspicious. Go on."

Duke sighs, mutters something about how everyone’s being dramatic, and leaps off the rooftop.

The rest of the Batfamily follows at a safe distance, blending into shadows and keeping tabs via comms. At first, everything seems normal. Duke stops a mugging with a quick intervention and moves on. But as he continues, they start noticing patterns .

Witnessing The Signal in Action

A small group of teenagers loitering in an alley suddenly stiffen as Duke lands silently on a nearby fire escape. He doesn’t even say anything—just crouches there, watching.

Teen 1 (terrified whisper): "Did you see that? Oh my god, it’s looking at us!"

Teen 2: "What is that thing?!"

The group scatters like frightened birds.

On another street, a man about to break into a car looks up and sees Duke silhouetted against the sunlight. The golden glow of Duke’s eyes intensifies, and shadows seem to curl unnaturally around his frame.

Car Thief: "Nope. Nope. Not today. I’m going back to Metropolis."

He drops his crowbar and sprints away.

From a nearby rooftop, the Batfamily watches everything unfold.

Tim: "Okay, I don’t get it. He didn’t even do anything that time."

Barbara (from the comms): "I checked the cameras. He just landed on a fire escape and... stared. Is this his whole strategy?"

Steph: "Wait, is this some kind of Jedi mind trick? Duke, are you secretly psychic?"

Duke (on comms): "No! I’m not psychic. I don’t know why they’re freaking out!"

Jason: "I’ll tell you why—they think you’re a demon, dude. You’ve got the whole Lovecraft vibe going on. Look at you! You’re like a glowing shadow monster on top of a building."

Dick: "He’s not wrong. You’re giving off serious 'guardian of the apocalypse' energy."

Duke: "You guys are exaggerating. I just look... cool. Right?"

The Batfamily decides to test the hypothesis. Jason volunteers to get closer for a better look, pretending to be a random pedestrian.

He casually strolls down the street, glances up at Duke on the rooftop, and immediately freezes. Even Jason—who routinely faces death and chaos—is struck by the sheer wrongness of Duke’s appearance. It’s not that Duke’s doing anything malicious. It’s just... unsettling.

Jason (into comms): "Okay, yeah. It’s definitely the eldritch horror thing. My fight-or-flight reflex just kicked in, and I know it’s him ."

Duke: "I still don’t see it!"

Barbara: "Hold on. I’m recording this. I’ll pull up the feed so you can see what Gotham sees."

Back in the Batcave, Barbara plays the daytime surveillance footage on the main screen. The Batfamily watches in stunned silence as the video shows Duke leaping across rooftops. In the broad daylight, his glowing golden aura seems magnified. His shadow stretches unnaturally, flickering like it has a mind of its own. His eyes gleam with an unearthly intensity, and he moves with a predator-like grace that’s both mesmerizing and terrifying.

Dick: "Wow. You’re like Batman’s scarier, solar-powered cousin."

Steph: "Or the protagonist of a found-footage horror movie."

Tim: "Oh my god. Duke... you look like the final boss of a cosmic horror video game."

Jason: "No wonder Gotham’s criminals are freaked out. You look like you’re about to drag their souls into the void."

Duke (finally seeing it): "...Oh. Oh no."

Duke leans against the console, burying his head in his hands.

Duke: "I thought people were just scared of, like... the idea of a Bat vigilante. Not me personally. "

Tim: "I mean, technically, it’s still the idea of a bat vigilante. You’re just the daytime version. And the daytime version is... apparently an eldritch sentinel."

Bruce (stepping in): "This works to our advantage. Fear is a powerful deterrent."

Duke (sarcastically): "Great. My entire crime-fighting persona is an eldrich nightmare… That’s not weird at all."

Later

The Batfamily decides to lean into Duke’s unique abilities. They even brainstorm ways to amplify the effect subtly (glowing lenses for his mask, playing up the shadow distortion) while ensuring Duke feels supported.

Bruce: "You’ve turned daylight into an ally in a way no one else has. Use it."

Duke: "Yeah, but... can we not make me look like the end boss of Gotham?"

Jason: "Too late, man. It’s perfect."

As they laugh and tease Duke, he starts to accept his role as Gotham’s daytime terror—a protector like no other. Though, deep down, he secretly enjoys how effective it is.

Extra

Scenario 1: The Hallway Horror

It’s late at night, and the Batfamily is scattered throughout Wayne Manor. Jason is heading to the kitchen for a midnight snack when he senses movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns to see Duke standing at the end of the dimly lit hallway, perfectly still.

Duke’s golden eyes are glowing faintly in the dark, his shadow stretching unnaturally along the walls. Jason freezes.

Jason (startled): "Jesus Christ, Duke! What are you doing?!"

Duke: "I was heading to my room."

Jason (still on edge): "Well, don’t stand there like a damn ghost! You scared the crap out of me!"

Duke raises an eyebrow.

Duke: "You’re literally a guy who sneaks up on criminals for a living. How did I scare you? "

Jason grumbles as he stalks off to the kitchen. Later, he tells everyone at breakfast that Duke’s "eldritch hallway act" nearly gave him a heart attack.

Scenario 2: The Living Room Light Show

The family is hanging out in the Wayne Manor living room after a patrol. The lights are dimmed, and everyone’s winding down. Duke is lounging on the couch, half-asleep, when Tim notices something strange.

Tim: "Uh... Duke? You’re glowing."

Everyone turns to look at Duke, who blinks in confusion. Sure enough, his golden aura has started to flicker faintly in the dim room. Shadows from the furniture stretch and bend toward him like they’re being pulled into a vortex.

Dick: "Okay, that’s... unsettling."

Steph (grinning): "Is this your way of telling us you’re secretly a nightlight?"

Duke, now fully awake, tries to suppress the glow. But the more he panics, the brighter his eyes get, until Jason hurls a throw pillow at him.

Jason: "Turn it off! You’re gonna summon Cthulhu in the middle of movie night!"

Bruce walks in, sees the chaos, and just sighs.

Bruce: "No eldritch summoning in the living room. Take it to the cave."

Scenario 3: Shadow in the Batcave

Tim is working late in the Batcave, surrounded by monitors and gadgets. He hears footsteps behind him and assumes it’s Bruce.

Tim (without looking): "Hey, can you hand me the—"

He turns around to see Duke standing there silently, his glowing eyes piercing through the shadows of the cave. Tim yelps and nearly falls out of his chair.

Duke (startled): "Whoa! Tim, it’s just me!"

Tim (catching his breath): "Don’t sneak up on people like that! You’re like a freaking cryptid in here!"

Duke smirks, but when he steps closer, the shadows behind him flicker unnaturally.

Tim: "Nope! Nope! Back up! You’re officially banned from the Batcave after dark."

Scenario 4: Bedside Terror

Damian wakes up in the middle of the night and spots a tall, shadowy figure standing silently by his bed. He grabs his katana instinctively and swings—only to realize it’s Duke, glowing faintly.

Damian: "Thomas! What are you doing?"

Duke (guiltily): "I, uh... thought I saw a shadow move in your room. Turns out it was just me."

Damian groans and flops back onto his bed.

Damian: "Next time, announce your presence before you scare someone into an early grave."

Scenario 5: The Kitchen Incident

Steph and Damian are in the kitchen arguing over the last cookie Alfred made.

Damian: "It’s mine. I called dibs."

Steph: "You can’t call dibs on dessert, Demon Spawn!"

As the argument escalates, the lights flicker, and a low hum fills the air. Both turn to see Duke standing in the doorway, his eyes glowing faintly. The refrigerator light casts long, exaggerated shadows across the floor, making Duke look ten feet tall.

Duke (deadpan): "Why is it always the cookies?"

Steph and Damian scream simultaneously.

Damian (recovering, annoyed): "Tt. That was unnecessary."

Steph: "Duke, I swear, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack."

Scenario 6: Midnight Training Gone Wrong

Dick decides to train late in the Batcave, running through an obstacle course. He doesn’t realize Duke is also there, watching from the shadows. As Dick flips off a beam, he catches sight of Duke perched on a ledge, his glowing eyes tracking him like a predator.

Dick slips mid-flip and lands on the mat with a thud.

Dick: "DUKE! Why are you lurking like that?!"

Duke hops down gracefully.

Duke: "I wasn’t lurking. I was observing."

Dick: "You were lurking. Your shadows were doing the creepy tentacle thing again!"

Duke glances at his shadow, which does seem to be moving independently, and shrugs.

Duke: "I can’t control that all the time. Besides, you’re supposed to have situational awareness."

Dick: "Not for you ! You’re worse than Bruce!"

:D!!! lol posting here but I also posted on AO3

[penkura]

Everybody Knows

Summary: You want to keep it a secret as long as you can, but living on a pirate ship makes that difficult.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of vomiting, slight food aversions, loving husband Sanji (not a warning tbh haha)

Note: Everyone, hi!! I wrote this before I ever finished 'knowing', and I just couldn't help but to share it here now that that's completed! I loved writing this so much, and yes, this is one of the two one-shots that are connected to 'knowing'! I'll post the second next week most likely! This also takes place about four to five years after the end of 'knowing'! I hope you all will enjoy this!!

“Sanji, look, look!! It’s positive!”

“Wait. No way, really?!”

Your smiling and giggling while showing off the positive pregnancy test ended up being contagious, Sanji grinning when he saw it as he wrapped you in a tight hug and spun you just a little. He couldn’t do it too much after all! You’d just found you were likely carrying a precious blessing, he didn’t want to make you dizzy or sick or anything!

It’d been nearly four years since your wedding on the Thousand Sunny after the events in Wano, and just about two years since you decided to start trying for a baby, but now! Now you were pregnant! Finally, after what felt like so much longer than it should have been. You hadn’t told anyone that you two were even thinking about having a baby, you wanted to keep it as secret as possible, and it taking almost two years to even get to the point of a positive test was definitely keeping it secret.

Honestly, when you’d told him you wanted to try having a baby, Sanji was ecstatic and nervous all at the same time. Of course he wanted to be a dad, he’d thought about it for so long, especially once you two married. But, with the life of a pirate, it couldn’t be that safe, could it? Obviously others had done it, Gol D. Roger had kids on his ship, Whitebeard did too, and Big Mom had all her kids (don’t remind him of that though, poor man thought he’d never see you again). The world had become moderately safer, people weren’t as terrified of pirates anymore, specifically your crew with how much you had helped others.

When you did tell him, you had made sure no one else was around and that it was about bedtime for most of the crew. You’d stay in the kitchen with Sanji while he finished off the dishes, telling you what he was thinking about cooking the next day for meals most nights, and that was the perfect time. A few of your crewmates came through to wish you both goodnight. Nami had done so early so she could check the map and log pose, making sure you were heading in the right direction. Zoro had the first night shift and had, like always, just requested someone bring him some sake after a while. Brook had chosen to spend some time playing his violin on the deck, Franky was likely in his workshop you thought. Robin came and said goodnight a bit later, saying she’d be joining Zoro in the crow’s nest for a bit with her latest book. You hadn’t been entirely sure about where Jimbei was at first, then heard him on the deck with Brook. Luffy and Usopp had tried to sneak in with Chopper to get a late night snack, making you giggle softly when you saw them come in the door as quietly as they could, before Sanji threw bread at them and chased them out, shouting “that’s all you get! The kitchen is now closed, goodnight unless you want to work!”

Hearing your giggle made Sanji turn back and smile at you, his lovely wife! He still couldn’t believe you two were married some days, just about two years at this point. Before he even started on the dishes, he stopped and gave you a kiss on the top of your head, saying “Once I’m done with the dishes we can head to bed, okay?”

“Sure!”

You tried to keep your focus on your own book while he worked, but your thoughts kept jumping around. You started one thought and lost it, wondering what it was before it came back, and your face heated up at the thought you’d been having the last few weeks anytime you were alone with your dear husband. Every time you’d try and bring the subject of having a baby up to Sanji, someone would interrupt and you’d back down, nervous they’d hear and it would spread around the ship before you even started trying.

You just wanted to be a mom on top of being a pirate, nothing more to it. And you knew Sanji would be an amazing father. No matter how his biological father was, Sanji would be different, he’d had Zeff as his chosen father, his real father. You knew he would be okay.

When Brook started to play what sounded like a familiar lullaby from the East Blue, it made you smile. You checked around quickly to make sure the coast was clear, before getting up from your spot at the table and walking over to Sanji, giving him a hug from behind that made him greet you.

“Sanji~?”

He hummed a bit while finishing drying another dish, “Yes, darling? What can I do for you?”

Smiling just a bit and burying your face in his shirt, you quietly made your request, “I want us to have a baby.”

It was loud enough for him to hear it, nearly causing Sanji to drop the plate in his hand as he choked a bit on his cigarette. Carefully, he set the plate down before turning around and taking your face in his (still damp) hands, trying to make out if you were joking with him or not. All you did in return was smile softly, nothing but love for him in your eyes. Once he realized your smile was sincere and that’s what you really wanted, he smiled widely and nodded, kissing you all over your face.

“Of course, of course, mon amour!!” he was almost as quiet as you were, he could tell you didn’t want anyone else to hear this precious desire yet, “Absolutely, whatever you want, as many as you want!”

You giggled while he kept kissing your face and you wrapped your arms back around his shoulders. "One would be a good start."

Now, you finally had the positive test you’d been anxiously waiting for. Every other one you’d taken that came up negative frustrated both of you at times, but every time it happened, seeing how upset you were, Sanji would just hug you and say it would happen one day, he just knew it would. You’d just keep trying and praying and hoping until it did.

And finally it did. The second line on the test was faint, but you could see it. You had a positive test!

After you two had calmed down from your excitement, you decided to keep the news secret for the time being. You wanted either Chopper or a doctor at the next island to confirm that your test wasn’t a false positive before you told anyone. The ship was due to land at an island that had a large town on it the next day, so Sanji agreed on taking you to a doctor once you did, under the guise of getting some ingredients to store (of course he did need to do that shopping, but making sure you really were pregnant was top priority). You absolutely trusted Chopper as a doctor, but you knew it was likely word would spread sooner than you wanted it to, so you made the choice to go to a doctor once you docked at the next island instead.

Some of your crewmates picked up on how you two acted through the day, but didn’t think too much of it. You guys were sickeningly sweet to each other most of the time anyway, it was gross how lovey-dovey you were (to Zoro anyway). A few times you’d be doing your chores, and someone, namely Robin or Nami, would catch how Sanji, who had been handing drinks and snacks to those who wanted them, would catch you out of the corner of his eye, before quietly watching you for a moment, deciding to go over and offering to take your work off your hands. You just smiled and said he could help if he was that bored and he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead gave a smile and a nod, helping you finish your chores a little faster.

Nami noticed first how weird Sanji was acting towards you. Normally he'd be his regular self, providing her and Robin with drinks and snacks in his normal way, before going over the top to do the same for you. It made sense since you were his wife, but that day he seemed…off? Almost like something had happened to calm him down. His normal acts of treating them like queens were a bit more subdued, and then with you, the one he almost treated like a goddess, he seemed like he'd been hit with a tranquilizer that made him more gentle, soft. It was very odd.

“Hmmm, Robin? Do you think those two are being…weird?”

Robin looked up from her book just enough to see Nami watching you two again; you were playing a card game with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper, while Sanji stayed nearby just watching. This was the most they'd seen him out of the kitchen in a while, it definitely was odd.

“Sanji is being a bit more protective of her today.”

“Is [Y/N] sick or something?”

“She seems normal to me. Maybe she’s pregnant.”

Nami laughed a little louder than she intended, but it didn’t gain yours or Sanji’s attention. It did gain Luffy's, who looked over wondering what Nami was laughing about before returning his attention to your card game.

“That’d be something.”

Neither girl dared to ask you about it that day, just in case they were incorrect and said something that could be considered offensive. They didn’t even know if you two wanted to have kids in the first place, maybe you just didn’t feel well and Sanji was just being the overprotective husband to his sick wife. The last time you'd been sick he barely left your side and got some help with the cooking so he could take care of you.

When it was dinner time, you were very careful to not let anyone notice how the smell of the fish you were having was making you nauseous. When Luffy asked why you weren't having any, you made the excuse of not feeling very well, deciding to forgo the fish to keep from making yourself sick. It wasn't technically a lie, you just made it sound convincing enough that no one questioned you further.

A silly argument broke out about who would get your share since you weren't eating the fish, and it made you laugh along with Nami. Luffy and Brook both wanted it, Usopp said it should be left for the next day because maybe you'd feel up to eating it then, while Chopper tried to ask you what was wrong and you just told him your stomach was a bit upset, he said he'd give you something to help if you wanted.

You really did impress Sanji with how well you were keeping your little secret. If it weren't for your restraint, he'd have told everyone by now, he was sure of it. It was taking everything in him not to pick up a transponder snail and call Zeff to let him know the good news. He knew you'd let him as soon as it was really, truly confirmed, he was just so anxious to tell someone.

Everyone cleared out after dinner minus you and Robin, she decided to stay behind and help with clearing the table, something you normally did to spend some extra time with your husband that he greatly appreciated.

However, this time, Sanji kept trying to make you stop helping.

"[Y/N], please, sit down! Robin and I will take care of the table." Sanji really, really wanted you to sit down and take it easy. If you were pregnant, you needed rest! You might be growing a whole new person inside you! You'd need all the energy you could have over the next few months!

"Sanji, it's ok! I can help."

"[Y/N]," Robin gave you a smile as she looked between you and Sanji, "if you aren't feeling well, I don't mind helping tonight. You should go let Chopper check you though, just to be certain it's not something to be worried about."

You bit the inside of your lip, wanting to tell Robin why Sanji was being so much more protective over you, but you weren't sure if you should. You viewed her like an older sister, and knew that if you did tell her, she'd keep your secret. Robin would take any secret you told her to the grave. Instead, you looked at Sanji with a slightly pleading look that caused him to just know what you were thinking. Sanji gave you a smile and nodded, which made you smile in return.

"Robin, the only reason Sanji is like this right now is because we got a positive pregnancy test this morning."

Honestly, Robin was joking earlier when she made that suggestion to Nami, but hearing you confirm her silly thought actually made her smile even more at you.

"Really? That's wonderful!"

Nodding, you started to almost beg for her silence on the matter.

"We don't want anyone else to know yet, so I haven't gone to Chopper for real confirmation. We're going to go find a doctor on the next island tomorrow to get a blood test done."

"That's a very good idea, to make absolutely sure your test was positive."

Sanji nodded, setting a hand on your shoulder. "So…could you keep it a secret please? Just until we have it confirmed."

"Of course. Your secret is safe with me."

Robin then joined Sanji even more in telling you to sit and relax, to the point you decided to head to bed with a laugh when Sanji said he didn't mean you had to leave. All you did was kiss him and say you'd see him when he finally came to bed himself.

You took a quick shower, before changing into your pajamas and choosing to lay in bed, hair still a bit wet but you didn't care. You wanted to see that positive pregnancy test again. It still felt surreal to you that it might be happening. You might become a mother in a few months.

The two faint, pink lines were still there, you hadn't been dreaming all day.

Gosh I hope it's not a false positive…

Eventually Sanji did come to bed with you, after his own shower and with his hair still damp too. You barely even moved when he laid down next to you, setting his hand on your stomach while you kept staring at the test.

"It's so weird."

"Hmm?"

"To think that we might be having a baby. It feels weird, doesn't it?"

He nodded a bit, while you finally laid the test back down on your nightstand and turned to face your dearly loved husband with a smile.

"You might get to be a dad soon."

"And you might get to be a mom soon."

Your giggle never failed to make him smile, even more than he already was. Sanji wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, hugging you and burying his face in your hair.

"I love you…no matter what we find out next, I love you so much."

You returned his hug and sighed happily, content with where you were now. You really hoped and prayed your test was accurate, that soon you'd be parents, you'd have a baby of your own to care for and love as well.

"I love you too, Sanji."

All would be well.

+!+

"All right everyone, I have your allowances for today!"

The normal culprits of bad spending habits cheered or thanked Nami, while you gladly took your decent sum and pocketed it immediately. Of course you wanted to look for some clothes, but you had no idea how much a doctor would charge you for a test, so you hoped the allowance Nami gave to you would be enough for both.

Usually you'd join in on drawing straws to see who stayed on the ship to guard it, but before you even could take one from Usopp, Sanji took your hand and told everyone you had decided you were going with him to get groceries this time. Not a single one of your crewmates questioned it, the rest of them drawing straws and Zoro and Jimbei being the lucky ones to stay on the Sunny. Once everything was settled, the rest of you left the ship and broke off in different directions. You stopped a local and quietly asked her where a doctor or women's clinic was, and she was kind enough to lead you and Sanji there.

After the kind older woman left you, the two of you didn't go inside yet. Your nerves had picked up and Sanji could tell. He felt the same way, you both had the same thought running through heads.

What if it was a false positive? What if all your hopes you'd had over the last 24 hours were about to be dashed and you weren't really going to have a baby?

Despite all the fears and worries, Sanji held your hand just a bit tighter and it brought you out of your thoughts and you looked at him.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

You thought for a second, then shook your head. "It's ok, I can go. You need to go grocery shopping so we're back on the ship at the meeting time."

Although he really did want to go with you, Sanji nodded and gave you a tight hug, kissing your forehead. "No matter what they say, I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do!" You laughed a bit, leaning up to give your sweet husband a kiss. "I love you too, and I know it's all gonna be okay. Meet you here in about an hour?"

Sanji nodded, letting you go but letting his fingers linger on yours as you turned and walked into the clinic. He stayed for a few minutes, before turning to go find the shopping district and get his grocery shopping done by the hour time was up, saying silent prayers that the news you brought back would be good.

+!+

The hour you had agreed on had passed, Sanji was waiting for you outside the clinic nervously. He'd honestly expected you to be outside and waiting for him already, but maybe something was wrong? Did something happen that was keeping you there longer than you expected? He prayed it wasn't something along the lines of you getting your pregnancy confirmed but being told you'd lost the baby already. That would devastate both of you after the time you'd had even just trying to get pregnant.

No, no, don't even think that. Everything is fine.

Every time someone exited the clinic and it wasn't you, Sanji got even more anxious, wishing you'd finally step out. He'd nearly gone through another two cigarettes while waiting, knowing you'd be upset with him over it but he couldn't help it. The nicotine was at least calming his nerves somewhat.

I'll have to apologize to [Y/N] later.

Finally, after another almost twenty minutes, you left the clinic and his nerves calmed a bit more but his heart started racing, wondering what you were going to tell him. You hadn't even looked up from whatever papers you had been given, you were still reading them it looked like. But once you did and saw Sanji was waiting for you, you gave him the brightest smile he thought he'd ever seen from you, even brighter than the one you had when you two got married.

"Sanji!" You ran to him and threw your arms around him, causing him to do the same. He tried to ask you what the doctor said but the words wouldn't come out, but once you pulled back from your hug, you didn't stop smiling. "It was right! We're having a baby!"

Actually hearing you confirm that your pregnancy test was positive made Sanji unbelievably happy. Even though he could feel tears starting, he smiled at you, hugging you again even tighter than before, picking you up and spinning you a bit, and telling you how happy he was. He set you back down and released you from the hug, kissing your face and thanking you for this blessing while you laughed a bit. He didn't need to thank you, not even a little bit. It was your choice and you were glad to be having a baby with him.

After one more kiss, he ended up pulling away from you with a grin, throwing his arms in the air with tears in his eyes.

"I'm gonna be a dad!!!"

+!+

Usopp and Nami were the ones to find out next. The two had been wandering the town when they came up near the clinic Sanji had dropped you off at, not thinking much about it at the time. You had a doctor on the ship, Chopper was the best one possible!

…so why was Sanji standing outside this clinic like he was waiting for something?

"What's he doing?"

"Why would I know that?"

The two were obviously confused. Had you gone inside? Were you that sick? Why didn't you tell Chopper or anyone else?? You could have stayed on the ship instead of letting Sanji drag you to town! Granted yes, he was your husband and you didn't seem to mind at all, but still. If you weren't well, you could have stayed behind and rested instead of running through the town in the few hours Nami had given you all to explore. She had just learned it would take two days for the log to reset, so you had plenty of time to explore! Honestly, sometimes Nami thought Sanji of all people could be a touch more considerate when you said you weren't feeling well.

"[Y/N] did say she had an upset stomach last night," Usopp remembered while watching Sanji light a second cigarette, "maybe they didn't want to bother Chopper and brought her here?"

"Oh come on, they have to be hiding something." Nami was trying to think what could be so important that you two would come to a random clinic on this island instead of just going to Chopper, just as you stepped out and ran to hug Sanji. The two of you were full of smiles and excitement, making her tilt her head. "What's going on?" Nami was trying so hard to hear, she was about to just discreetly walk by and eavesdrop.

"I don't know, I can't hear them." Usopp leaned in a little more, still trying to stay hidden.

The two didn't need to wait any longer to know what you two were saying, as Sanji's outburst of shouting that he was going to be a dad told them everything and Nami gasped while Usopp's jaw dropped almost to the ground.

"She's pregnant!!"

"Did…did they plan that?!"

"Who cares, Usopp! There's gonna be a baby on the ship soon!"

The two were conflicted on if they should confront you now or wait until you told everyone, while they were deciding you and Sanji had started walking back towards the farmer's market to finish the grocery shopping, neither Nami or Usopp noticing until she went to shout for the two of you.

"They're gone! Dang it!"

"Well…I bet they'll tell us later, Nami."

"If they don't," Nami's berri eyes didn't get past Usopp, "I can try offering them some baby funds, at an interest."

"Nothing gets by you."

+!+

Getting back to the ship, you helped Sanji put away all the groceries (despite him telling, begging you to rest), before putting away the very few clothes you ended up purchasing. After paying for your appointment and the prenatal vitamins they gave you, your allowance was about half gone, but you were able to find a few cute clothes you could wear now and some pieces to put away for later on. It was a bit difficult for you to find some maternity clothing items, but you did find some cute pieces! Even more difficult was keeping those pieces hidden when you were showing the other items to Nami, Robin, and Chopper. You made the excuse that they were more intimate items which flew over Chopper's head but made Nami pull a face while Robin laughed a bit.

Nami did keep pestering you about what you did and how you spent all your money this time, but it wasn't that weird to you, she normally asked if anyone had anything left from what she gave them, and if they wanted her to put it away for the next island stop. You almost, almost told her, but just claimed your clothes were more expensive than expected.

Robin was the only person who you pulled aside and confirmed you were pregnant to. She gave you a hug and congratulated you properly, sitting with you in the room you shared with Sanji to get a little more information from you.

You'd told her that yes, this was planned, about two years later than you had originally hoped. You were nine weeks along, and intending to keep it a secret from everyone else until your first trimester was over just to be safe. The doctor you saw had said everything looked good so far, and it gave you immense relief to hear that.

Your plan was to stay on the ship the next day and tell Chopper so he could start to prepare for whatever he'd need to do to help you through your pregnancy and delivery, but you wanted to wait and tell everyone else once you passed the twelve week mark. Robin said she'd absolutely help as well, she even gave you a few books on pregnancy that you and Sanji could read through.

The rest of the day, Nami and Usopp wondered if you or Sanji were going to say anything about your having a baby. Not one word slipped from either of you, and it was starting to frustrate both of them. At dinner you were able to eat, Sanji quickly catching on that fish was making you nauseous, so he ended up making some meat instead which greatly pleased your captain.

"Sanji!! Seconds!" Luffy whined a bit and Sanji told him to hold on while he got a bit more ready, making Luffy lean over on you, "[Y/N]~~~ can I have some of yours??"

"No, Luffy!" Sanji looked over his shoulder and set a small glare on him, "[Y/N] needs her dinner!"

"But she always shares it with me~!"

"She can't right now!"

"Why not???"

"Because she–"

"--I'm starving after being sick yesterday!"

You nodded, eyes slightly wide as you realized Sanji was that close to revealing your pregnancy earlier than planned. He covered his mouth when you shouted over the two, turning back to the stove and cursing at himself.

Almost blew it, holy crap.

"But I want meeeeeaaaaat."

"You can have some vegetables, Luffy."

Luffy made a face and decided it wasn't worth it, he'd wait for more meat to be cooked. Franky was willing to share with him though, which made your captain happy at least. Once you had finished eating, you took your plate to the sink and stopped to give Sanji a hug, he whispered sorry to you, but you just shook your head, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“No worries, my dear.”

“Yohohoho, you two are so loving even with a baby on the way!”

Everything went silent. Your crewmates all stopped eating, the sound of silverware on plates was quieted as they stopped to stare at you with widened eyes, and both you and Sanji went completely stiff, you started feeling ill.

How the hell did Brook know?! You hadn’t told anyone apart from Robin, and were fairly certain Sanji didn’t tell anyone after you left him alone earlier to start on dinner. Nami had been a little persistent with you, asking you a lot of questions earlier but you didn’t tell her anything, and you didn’t know at the time that Zoro had even questioned Sanji about why he wasn’t smoking as much. Usopp knew Sanji was close to shouting at Luffy that you were pregnant, and now Chopper realized you feeling nauseous last night made more sense. Robin smiled a bit since she already knew, and Franky hadn’t thought to question anything yesterday or today, honestly thinking you were sick and Sanji was just trying to quit smoking. Jimbei had noticed you feeling sick earlier than anyone, but assumed you’d just caught something since you all were constantly out at sea and stopping at various islands, you could have picked up any kind of illness.

Luffy never questioned a thing, but hearing Brook’s statement made him break into a large grin.

“You guys are having a baby?!”

Your nausea was back, and Sanji could see it in how pale your face was becoming as you, back still turned to the table, tried to figure out whether to confirm, deny, or start asking how Brook knew.

“I…” You felt worse while trying to decide what to say, covering your mouth with your hand.

“[Y/N]? Are you–”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You pulled away from Sanji and ran out of the kitchen with your hand still over your mouth, making several of your crewmates yell for you, while Robin had run after you. Sanji almost ran after you as well, before realizing he needed an answer from a certain musician first. He set a glare on Brook that made him shudder.

“You. Who the hell told you that?!”

Brook continued to shudder while everyone else couldn’t believe the glare Sanji was giving him.

“T-t-the test was still in the bathroom trash this morning! I-i-it was only n-natural for me to assume!”

“Damn it,” Sanji pulled at his bangs, cursing himself for not suggesting you threw that in the kitchen trash or hid it under your bed until you were ready to tell people, and really wishing he could light a cigarette right then, “Fine, all right?! We’re having a baby! She’s nine weeks and we were gonna tell you all once she was past the first trimester, but guess everyone knows now!”

“Sanji–”

“You guys take care of putting the food away and the dishes, I’m going to go comfort my pregnant wife!”

Sanji threw down his apron and ran out of the kitchen after you and Robin, causing Nami to shout for him, but she didn’t follow him.

Everyone that was left, was completely silent, all mulling over the news that you and Sanji were going to be parents soon.

“S-so,” Brook was still a little shaky after seeing how angry Sanji was, “uh, did anyone else know?”

Nami and Usopp raised their hands, heads down. They only found out by mistake, but both felt awful at your precious secret basically being revealed against your will.  Surprising everyone though was Zoro who nodded.

“Wait, how did you know Zoro??”

“He told me earlier.”

“He what?!”

Rolling his eye a bit, Zoro nodded again while taking a drink of his sake. “I mentioned that he hadn’t been smoking and he ended up telling me. I didn’t want all that information dumped on me but he seemed like he was anxious to tell someone. I just happened to be the first person he talked to.”

That made more sense than Sanji just deciding Zoro would be the first person he told. It became quiet again, Luffy was thinking and pressing his index finger to his forehead before he finally said something.

“So…why did Sanji say they were waiting?”

“Well,” Chopper spoke up, a little shell shocked that he was going to have to take care of a pregnant woman on the ship, but a bit excited about it, “A lot of couples wait until after twelve weeks because the chance of miscarriage is higher before then. It’s never really zero, but waiting until after the first trimester is common practice, by then they’re more confident that the baby will make it.”

“Oh, I see!” Luffy started laughing after that, a grin on his face that seemed to start spreading to his crewmates as the information sunk in. “They’re gonna be awesome parents! I bet it’s a boy!”

“Oh no,” Nami shook her head with a small glare, “It’s got to be a girl, we need more girls on this ship!”

“I can make some SUPER toys for them!”

“I’ll make sure the baby and [Y/N] are both healthy!”

“Would playing lullabies for the child make up for this?”

“Imagine if the cook’s kid wants to be a swordsman.”

“I have some great stories of bravery and adventure to tell them!”

“I’m sure they’ll be great no matter what the child is or what they decide to do in the future.”

The other eight members of your crew continued discussing their own ideas of what your child would be like, working to clean up dinner, when Nami stopped and bit her lip.

“What’s wrong, Nami?” Luffy tilted his head at her as she stopped gathering the plates.

“I feel bad that she got sick because of this. We all made [Y/N] so nervous after Brook said they were having a baby. I hope she’s not too upset.”

“Even if she is,” Zoro had started to leave, but stopped to listen to Nami’s concerns, “the cook will take care of it. He’s her husband after all.”

+!+

“Can I get you some water, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you, Robin, but I’m fine at the moment.” You sighed a bit and leaned against your pillows, Robin nodding as she sat beside you on your bed. You’d completely lost your dinner after you ran off, Robin staying with you to keep your hair back and help you get back to your room until Sanji got there.

He almost burst into your shared room a few minutes later, running over and hugging you close.

“Are you all right, mon amour??”

Nodding, you just hugged him back. “I’m okay. I’m…upset, but otherwise just fine.”

"Rightfully so," Sanji nodded, stroking your hair a bit, "We've barely had time to process this and it's already out."

"How did–"

"The test was still in the bathroom trash can."

Hearing that, you realized it was your fault in the end, for not being more careful about how you disposed of the test. Whining a bit you leaned against Sanji again. "I'm an idiot. I didn't even think about someone seeing it there…"

"Hey, you're not an idiot. Anyone else would have done the same thing," Sanji leaned down just enough to kiss your forehead which made Robin smile before she took her leave, knowing he would make things right, "it didn't even cross my mind that we should've put it somewhere else."

"I should've tossed it overboard."

"I don't think any of the fish want something that's been peed on, love."

That made you burst out laughing, so hard you almost felt like you were going to be sick again but you knew you weren't. Seeing you smile and laugh made Sanji smile as well, as he crawled into bed by you and pulled you back into his arms. He was glad to see you smiling and laughing after the disaster that had been dinner. You deserved to be happy about having a baby, not stressed because it got out earlier than you had planned.

Once you calmed down, you laid there and stared at the ceiling for a bit, Sanji still holding you and rubbing your arm to help comfort you as you thought.

"I'm not that mad at Brook for bringing it up."

"I'm pissed at him."

"Sanji."

"It wasn't his secret to tell."

You sighed with a nod, turning to be face to face with your equally as upset husband, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I know…but now I don't feel like I have to agonize over how to tell everyone."

"I…suppose that's true…"

Thinking about the reactions you got from your crewmates, you smiled a little.

"Luffy sounded happy."

"He did, didn't he?"

"He probably thinks this means new crewmate, instead of what is essentially his niece or nephew."

Sanji laughed, nodding. "That's exactly what he thinks, I'm sure of it."

The two of you spent what felt like hours just talking about your day, the insanity of it all. Finding out you really were pregnant, that secret getting out during dinner and making your morning/evening sickness come back, and the likely reactions of your crewmates. You talked until you started dozing off, Sanji quieting his voice when he noticed you were falling asleep. Once you were asleep, he stayed at your side a few minutes longer, before deciding he needed a shower and to check the kitchen before bed.

Before he got up and left, Sanji tucked you in a bit, kissing your forehead with his hand resting on your stomach lightly.

"Sleep well. I love you both so much."

+!+

Breakfast the next morning was weirdly quiet. You'd helped Sanji get everything ready, once again despite him telling you to sit down and relax, to rest since you know, you were growing a whole new person in your womb, you needed as much energy as possible. You just ignored him, smiling and setting the table quickly as everyone else started to file in. Brook had found you earlier in the morning and apologized for the night before, which you accepted with a bright smile, telling him everything was fine.

Sanji still was angry but couldn't find it in him to glare at the skeleton anymore. If you were willing to forgive, Sanji would find a way to do that himself.

During breakfast, Luffy stood up with his drink in hand, making everyone look at him while he grinned. He wanted to toast something obviously, and everyone else raised their drinks to his.

"To Sanji and [Y/N]'s baby! Our future crewmate and niece or nephew! Hopefully nephew though!"

Everyone else laughed and shouted cheers, taking a drink, while you were fighting back tears. You hadn't fully expected all of them to be so accepting of the idea of a baby on board, but what else did you expect?

This ragtag group was your family now, your baby would have no shortage of protectors or joy in their life.

Sanji, the ever attentive husband he was, smiled just a bit seeing the happy tears in your eyes. He leaned over with a kiss to your temple, whispering "It's ok to cry if you're happy."

And you did, just a bit. You thanked Luffy, thanked everyone for being so wonderful and accepting of your baby, who hadn't even been born yet. Most of your crew responded in kind, telling you their thoughts of how they could help when the baby was born, offering to decorate a nursery, asking if you want a boy or girl. Everything they could think of that would help you and Sanji to settle into your roles of mom and dad in a few months. They offered to split up your chores among them, something you asked them not to do until later into your pregnancy. You still wanted some semblance of a routine before you gave birth and had to devote all your time to a tiny human.

Eventually, breakfast had its own little squabble as Luffy snatched the last piece of bacon when Usopp and Franky were reaching for it, a small brawl breaking out. It made Sanji yell for them to be careful around you, leading Franky and Usopp to drag Luffy to the deck to continue their little spat.

You laughed, leaning back in your chair and giving Sanji a smile.

"I love our weird family."

"Hmmm, so do I, mon amour."

All would be well, when you had your baby in a few short months. They would be welcomed with a flurry of love and adoration, not just from you and Sanji, but from everyone else as well.

Can't wait to meet you, little angel.

[glassartpeasants]

Supernova trio reacting to you cupping their cheeks and kissing them before saying, "I'm proud of you"

Characters: Luffy, Law, and Kid

GN!Reader

A/N: It literally came to me just now, and I needed to write it before I lost the motivation.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff

~~~

Luffy:

It was just one of those days on the sunny, everyone was relaxing and enjoying not being shot at by marines or defending themselves by other pirates. Robin with her flowers, Nami sunbathing, Zoro napping in the warm sun while Brook played his music next to him. Sanji making drinks for everyone while Franky tinkered on the Mini Merry. Usopp working on new inventions while Chopper studied next to him.

The only one yet to be seen was your boyfriend, Luffy.

"Luffy! Hey, where are you?" You walked around the ship calling out for him, yet no response. He usually came to you after you even called his name. Was he below deck or up in the crow's nest?

"(Y/N)!" Just while you were thinking about where to look next, you hear the telltale sound of Luffy's sandals running at you at full speed. Turning around, you see your boyfriend lunging at you before wrapping his rubber body around you. Both of your fall to the ground on your butt.

"There you are! Where were you? I've been looking for you!"

"I was making something!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Here! It's for you!" Luffy untangled his arms from your torso before shoving a piece of paper to your chest. Grabbing it, you brought it to your face to look at it. You saw a drawn picture with you and him holding hands with the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" written on it.

"I made sure to give it my all!" You can feel your heart melting as you look at it.

Placing it down next to you, you move your hands to cup his warm cheeks. You rub your thumb along his cheekbone before leaning in to kiss him on the tip of his nose.

"I love it Luffy. It's perfect, I'm so proud of you." Luffy looked at his nose wide-eyed with a light red painting his cheeks before looking back up at you with a wide smile.

~~~

Law:

It wasn't uncommon for your boyfriend to be locked away in his office. Working and studying about anything and everything under the sun. He put his studies before his own health almost all the time.

It was hypocritical cause he'd chastise you if you did the same.

Despite that, you walked to his office with coffee and some onigiri just to keep him at least a bit healthy. A smile plastered on your face as you knocked on his door.

"Come in." Carefully opening the door to make sure you don't spill, you slip through without an incident.

"Hey, baby. I got you some coffee and snacks." You walk up to his desk and place the tray holding everything on the only unoccupied space left on his desk.

"Oh. Thank you (Y/N)-ya." You watch him grab an onigiri before taking a big bite, his eyes still focused on his paperwork. Walking up behind him, you place your hands on his shoulders and gently start to massage them. You feel him tense for a split second before letting out a sigh as he eased into your touch.

"What you working on?"

"I took a test and now I'mm correcting myself."

"And?" you see him place his pen down as he yawned.

"I got them all right." His long, drawn-out words had you giggling as you put your hands on his cheeks and moved his head so he had to look up at you. You gently took off his hat and placed it on some of the papers. He gave you a puzzled look at your actions.

"What are you-" Leaning down, you place a soft kiss on his forehead. You looked down at him and admired how the light framed his face from that angle.

"Well, I'm very proud of you for working so hard to get them all right." You can see the pink dusting his cheeks as he looks shocked to hear you say such things. He looks to the side to avoid eye contact as his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

"Thank you..."

~~~

Kid:

The feeling of your brutish boyfriend holding you close as the two of you lay under the covers has a permanent smile on your face. You loved being in his arms and enjoying his touch. The safety he promised always scared away the nightmares that threatened your sleep.

Looking up, you see Kid with his eyes closed and his hair messy, no longer held up by his goggles. He looked so peaceful and contempt while he slept that you couldn't help but admire him.

"Enjoying the view?" You see him open an eye while a smirk plays along his lips.

"Very. What? Can't I admire my perfect boyfriend?" Rolling his eyes, you see the red creeping up along his neck and face. He always got so embarrassed when you complimented him. It was truly your favorite pastime.

"I simply like admiring my strong, handsome, decently smart boyfriend." You see the small look of offense appearing on his face at your last words. The feeling of him pinching your thigh had you yelping yet giggling.

"I'm kidding! Only a smart guy would be able to create such beautiful metal artwork and machinery." Using your elbows, you push yourself up so that you're face to face with him. His amber eyes staring directly into yours as he waited to see your next move.

Moving your hands to cup his cheeks, you kiss his lips passionately. You can feel Kid smirk as he kisses you back with the same amount of energy. His arm pulls you even closer, and you feel him rub his hand along your back.

Pulling away from his lips, you move a stray hair behind his ear as he pouted. The freckles that covered his face calling you to kiss every inch of his face. Your heart felt like it was gonna burst out of your chest with how much love you felt for him in that moment.

"I'm so proud of you, baby. No doubt in my mind that you'll be the King of the Pirates." His eyes widen at your words before red covers his entire face. The face that once held a smirk now soft as he took in your words. He moved his head to your neck just so you couldn't see how much your words affected him any more than you already had.

"I love you, Kid." You run your fingers through his silky hair as you hold him close. You feel him kiss your neck before mumbling against your skin,

"I love you too."

[h1nanii]

Silent tunes, played by you.

[CH1] [CH2] [CH3 ]

(Sanji x Deaf!Reader | F!Reader) inspired by the 2004

Japanese Drama "Orange Days".

[Fluff, Angst, maybe smut as the story progresses.]

Genre: Romance, Drama, Adventure, Slice of Life (with canon-verse context)

Setting: Post-Enies Lobby, during the "calm" moments on the Thousand Sunny

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Deaf!Female Reader (former musician)

Inspiration: Orange Days (2004 Japanese Drama)

———————————————————————————

Hands that can speak.

The next morning on the Thousand Sunny came soft and golden. The sea was calm, and the breeze carried the scent of breakfast—coffee, eggs, and something sweet.

But Sanji wasn’t in the galley.

He was on the deck with Robin.

You stood by the stairs, unnoticed, watching from a quiet corner as the two of them talked. Well—he talked. She listened, arms crossed gently over her book, an amused tilt to her lips.

You couldn’t hear his voice, but you’d come to recognize the way his hands moved when he got excited. Animated, almost theatrical, like he was performing a recipe with every word.

He pointed to the air, then made a clumsy sign with his fingers.

Robin corrected it patiently, adjusting the angle of his hand.

You blinked.

He was learning sign language.

For you.

Your stomach turned in a strange, fluttering way. A violin string pulled too tight.

Earlier That Morning

Sanji had knocked lightly on Robin’s door just after dawn.

“Robin-chwan,” he said, tone unusually quiet, “you know sign language, right?”

Her eyebrow had lifted with curiosity. “A bit. Why do you ask?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, lighting a cigarette with a flick. “There’s someone I want to talk to. Properly. Not with a damn notepad.”

Robin closed her book and looked at him for a long moment. Then she smiled.

“All right, Cook-san. Let’s start with the basics.”

⸻

Back in the infirmary, Chopper was flipping through papers—your medical file, notes about your hearing loss, neurological tests, recovery status. He was a careful doctor. He didn’t gossip.

But Robin had come to visit, and somehow, the topic shifted.

“She doesn’t talk about it,” Chopper said softly. “But she played music before.”

Robin tilted her head. “Violin, yes?”

Chopper nodded. “Her inner ear was damaged by a concussion. She might have heard the explosion—right before it went silent. That’s the worst kind of silence, I think.”

Robin’s eyes were gentle. “It’s not just hearing she lost, then.”

“No.” He looked up at her. “She lost the part of her that listened.”

Robin didn’t respond right away. Then she looked out the window, toward the upper deck where Sanji practiced a new word in sign: “Beautiful.”

“She’s beginning to find it again,” Robin said quietly.

⸻

That evening, you returned to the galley.

Sanji was waiting.

The room smelled like saffron rice and grilled fish, but the second you entered, he stood a little straighter. Nervous. You noticed the absence of the notepad.

He moved slowly, deliberately.

First, he pointed to you.

Then, he formed the sign: “Thank you.”

Your eyes widened.

Then: “Music.”

He made the sign for melody—awkward but recognizable.

You couldn’t help it—you smiled.

He beamed like a kid winning a prize at a fair.

“Robin’s helping me,” he said aloud, then quickly added the sign for “learning.”

“I want to talk to you. Like you talk. Not just with food.”

Your heart ached.

Not painfully—but in that soft, blooming way that makes your fingers itch to create something beautiful.

You reached for a napkin and scribbled:

You already speak to me. Every time you cook.

Sanji’s grin softened into something smaller. Something real.

Then, carefully, you took his hand.

You guided his fingers, slowly, showing him the sign for your name again.

He mouthed it. “That’s you.”

You nodded.

“I’m Sanji,” he signed slowly.

You laughed—silent, but your shoulders shook. His fingers had been almost right. You fixed them gently.

Sanji looked at your hands for a long time.

Then he whispered, “I’m gonna learn everything. Every sign. Every word. If it means I get to hear your voice through silence.”

You touched your heart.

Then his.

And in that moment, with the ocean humming outside and the stars blinking quietly overhead, he understood.

Using all of his free time for the next month to practice, practice talking to you without having to read stupid scribbles or playing charades.

— — — — —

The storm started like a whisper.

The first drops of rain pattered against the sails like fingertips on a snare drum. The air was damp and hushed, and the deck groaned softly as the sea rolled beneath.

You were sitting under the awning on the upper deck, your knees tucked up to your chest, a blanket around your shoulders. The air was too quiet. Too thick.

You couldn’t hear the storm.

But you felt it.

Each rumble in the wood beneath you. Each vibration of the waves, traveling up through your legs and into your bones.

It reminded you of the explosion.

The last sound you ever heard.

You hugged your knees tighter.

Sanji approached without a sound. He knelt beside you, an umbrella clutched loosely in one hand, eyes warm and a little uncertain.

You looked at him, and he smiled—small and soft.

He offered the umbrella. You didn’t take it.

He sat with you anyway.

A minute passed. Maybe more.

Then his fingers moved awkwardly.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

You gave him a faint nod.

He waited, then signed again:

“You make the Sunny feel quieter… in a good way.”

You almost smiled.

Almost.

He kept going. He was talking too much. Not with his voice—yet—but with his hands, his mouth. Movement, motion, effort.

Effort that pierced something raw.

He signed something new.

Slow. Careful.

“I wish I could hear your voice.”

You froze.

His smile faded just a little, his hands pausing mid-air. He didn’t know what he’d just stepped into.

Your heart tightened.

You shook your head—not no, not yes, just—don’t.

But he didn’t stop.

“I keep thinking about it,” he muttered softly. “When you smile. When you laugh. When you’re frustrated. I want to know what it would sound like.”

Your body went stiff reading the words coming from his lips.

He leaned forward, gentle.

“Would you ever… maybe someday… try to speak to me?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your fingers started moving in a fit of anger before you could stop them.

NO.

STOP.

PLEASE.

But he didn’t read them fast enough.

So you smacked the deck with your palms—sharp, sudden, a thunderclap in silence.

Sanji jerked back.

You stood abruptly, blanket falling from your shoulders.

Tears blurred your eyes—damn them. You didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him.

Your hands moved furiously. Big, clumsy, angry signs that hit the air like punches.

YOU DON’T GET IT.

I CAN’T.

I CAN’T.

Your jaw trembled.

Then, more slowly—hands shaking now:

I don’t know what I sound like anymore.

You looked at him—really looked.

His face had fallen, stunned and silent, eyes wide.

You stepped back, chest heaving with breathless sobs. No sound. Just tremors. Just your shoulders shaking.

You reached for your notebook with trembling fingers and wrote in sharp, panicked strokes:

You don’t know what it’s like…

You don’t know what it’s like to not remember the sound of someone’s voice.

You ripped the page.

Shoved it into his hands.

Then signed, violently, painfully:

You won’t ever know what it’s like.

You’re a great man, a great crewmate, a great friend sanji. Handsome, smart, talented.

You slammed your palm into your chest.

But I’ll never get to know you by your voice.

Sanji’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

You stood there, wind in your hair, rain starting to fall, trembling like a string pulled too tight.

Then, quietly, hopelessly:

And I don’t know what I sound like either. If my voice has changed, I’ll never know. If my name is called, I’ll never know.

The tears came silent and heavy.

Down your cheeks, over your lips.

You turned away and covered your mouth, as if it would stop the sobs from showing.

It didn’t.

Sanji stepped forward—slowly.

He didn’t touch you. Just knelt beside you again, like he had at the start.

Then, he reached out and signed:

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t respond.

You sat there, shoulders shaking, face hidden.

And he stayed.

Just like that.

No words.

No more questions.

Just him.

And you.

And the rain.

And the sea.

And the aching, yawning silence between you.

You scanned his face gently as he sat with you, trying to read his expression, Guilt

Without thinking straight, your body turned—leaning in closer to the blonde, tilting your head slightly as you planted your lips onto his.

Maybe it was his effort to talk to you.

Or the way your heart raced with every glance you stole from him.

Whatever it was, it felt right to place that kiss—leaving the lovestruck cook in shock as the rain poured.

[bartoszsims3]

The First Goodbye – A Day of Dates & Decisions

Today was a big day in the Bachelor Challenge house, and not just because Bruce finally got to spend quality time with each of the contestants. That’s right—our leading man went on one-on-one dates with everyone, each lasting up to an hour (or until they decided to cut it short… yikes 😬). With elimination looming at the end of the day, every moment counted.

🌞 MORNING MADNESS

The day started bright and early with John and Andy sharing an outdoor shower (nothing to see here, just Bartosz things 🌿🚿).

💪 STRATEGY OR ESCAPE?

With dates happening throughout the day, everyone handled their pre-elimination nerves differently:

🔥 Kurt took out his stress on training, working up a sweat and proving that if love doesn’t work out, at least his biceps will. 🛁 Andrés, on the other hand, completely avoided the social chaos and spent the entire day soaking in the hot tub, distancing himself from the house. 📚 The other guys kept it chill, reading books, playing foosball, and trying not to overthink their upcoming date with Bruce.

🌟 Bonds Forming & Games in Motion

💀 Belphogor and Ciarán found unexpected friendship, proving that not everything in the house has to be about fighting or flirting (…though it usually is). 🏃‍♂️ Later, Ciarán and Kurt channeled their inner kids and played tag on the deck, because nothing says I like you quite like chasing someone down at full speed. 📖 John once again took on the role of storyteller, captivating Joshua and Vincent with another legendary scary story.

⏳ THE FIRST ELIMINATION…

By 6 PM, it was time to say goodbye to someone… and unfortunately, Cornelius was the first to leave the house. 💔 While he came in hoping for a love story, it seems fate (and Bruce) had other plans.

I didn't cover every little event today — because, well, I spent 10 sim hours monitoring Bruce’s every move and making sure these one-hour dates went smoothly. (And yes, it was exhausting. 😩)

With one contestant down, tensions are rising, connections are forming, and Monte Rubro is just heating up. Who’s next? Who will rise? Tomorrow the tests begin to unlock an exclusive meeting with Bruce.

🔥 Stay tuned, because things are only getting wilder from here.

(based on relationship level with Bruce)

[girlkisser13]

tyche cabin headcanons

children of tyche

• when they enter a room, either things immediately start going well, or utter chaos unfolds. there is no in-between.

• they have an almost supernatural level of confidence, always believing things will turn out in their favor. and, annoyingly, they’re usually right.

• with focus, they can nudge the odds in their favor— like ensuring a sword lands the perfect strike or a trap malfunctions at just the right moment.

• they’re the type to go all in during a poker game, even if they have a terrible hand, because somehow, they always pull through.

• their mere presence can make things feel more lively—or more chaotic. they often act first and think later.

• some fully embrace lucky charms, rituals, and omens, while others scoff at them because they believe luck is always on their side.

• coincidences happen around them ALL the time.

• they might trip and accidentally take out an enemy, dodge an attack at the perfect moment, or land a near-impossible hit just when needed.

• some of them genuinely decide important things by flipping a coin or rolling dice. it’s less about indecisiveness and more about trusting fate.

• they often show up where they’re needed most, even if they didn’t plan to be there.

• chiron has prohibited them from betting on chariot races, capture the flag outcomes, or anything that involves gambling with other campers.

• they don’t rely on brute force; they let fate guide their attacks and often fight unpredictably, making them hard to counter.

• if their luck turns sour, it really turns sour. think sudden downpours, tripping at the worst moment, or getting a nosebleed mid-fight.

• their friends joke that walking with them guarantees a good day, while their enemies learn that messing with them leads to an absurd streak of bad luck.

• either they completely wing a test and somehow ace it, or they forget about it entirely and just hope for divine intervention.

• they’re the type to enter a raffle once and win, or be the exact 1,000,000th customer at a store and get free food for life.

• these are some common phrases that you might hear from a child of luck: "oh, i found twenty drachmas on the ground." "oh, my sword landed the perfect hit without me trying." "oh, my enemy tripped and knocked themselves out."

• campers constantly inspect their dice and decks when playing games with them, convinced that something has to be rigged. (it isn’t. They’re just that lucky.)

• they’re the ones who somehow hit a bullseye while blindfolded, or throw a sword across the battlefield and hit the one weak spot on a monster.

• some like to collect "unlucky" items like broken mirrors and black cat figurines— because bad luck doesn’t really stick to them.

• they either get caught instantly or miraculously steal the flag without trying.

• one time, a child of luck got lost and accidentally stumbled into the enemy’s base while holding their own flag.

• somehow, they always have just the right amount of money for whatever they need— down to the last drachma.

cabin exterior

• the cabin’s shape shifts subtly depending on the angle you look at it— one moment, it appears sleek and elegant, the next, it looks slightly lopsided, as if fortune itself can’t decide.

• the door is an oversized roulette wheel that spins when touched, clicking to a stop before allowing campers to enter.

• occasionally, it lands on a "jackpot" symbol, triggering a harmless but flashy effect, like confetti or a burst of golden sparks.

• the windows are shaped like playing cards and dice, shifting patterns unpredictably.

• the roof is adorned with horseshoes, some right-side-up for good luck, others upside-down to keep things balanced. a weathervane shaped like a spinning coin never quite settles on heads or tails.

• a large golden statue of tyche stands in front, blindfolded and holding a set of dice in one hand and a cornucopia in the other. occasionally, it winks or shifts slightly when no one is looking.

• nearby, a small wishing well grants minor strokes of luck to those who toss in a drachma— though the results are always unpredictable.

cabin interior

• the room seems to change slightly each time you enter. sometimes, there are more beds than usual; other times, furniture appears in different places as if moved by an unseen force. no one is ever quite sure if they left something in the same spot they found it.

• each camper’s bunk is uniquely themed after different symbols of luck— one might have four-leaf clovers embroidered into the sheets, another may have pillowcases decorated with dice, and some even have a slot-machine headboard that occasionally dispenses a random treat (or a harmless prank).

• the beds themselves seem to have a mind of their own— sometimes incredibly comfortable, other times squeaky and uneven.

• in the center of the cabin, a large round table serves as the hub for games of chance— poker, dice, and other gambling-inspired activities.

• it’s enchanted so that no game ever plays the same way twice. a dartboard on the wall seems impossible to miss— until it isn’t.

• golden horseshoes hang at odd angles, and shelves are filled with an eclectic mix of lucky charms and cursed artifacts, their effects unpredictable.

• a massive coin flips itself at random intervals, seemingly deciding the overall "luck" of the cabin for the day.

• lockers are organized in a completely nonsensical manner— some opening normally, others requiring a secret knock, and a few that only unlock if you’re having a particularly lucky day. campers are used to "losing" things, only to find them in the most unexpected places.

cabin traditions

• every morning, campers flip a golden drachma to determine their luck for the day. heads = good luck, tails = bad luck, on its side = total chaos.

• they have a huge monthly game night with poker, blackjack, dice rolling, and harmless bets (no drachmas, just bragging rights).

• every week, campers draw a random challenge (like wearing mismatched shoes or speaking in rhymes) and must complete it— no backing out!

• they have something called a "lucky streak board". it tracks the wildest winning streaks and worst unlucky moments, from undefeated poker runs to tripping six times in a day.

• campers carry personal lucky charms all summer, then swap them at the end to “share the luck.”

• if someone has a streak of misfortune, the cabin throws salt over their shoulder and rolls a die to reset (or worsen) their luck.

• they like to spread good fortune by leaving lucky charms, harmless pranks, or "good luck" notes around camp.

divider by @kodaswrld

[vitaminseetarot]

Back-to-Back PAC Part 2: What is Beginning For You? 🥚🌴🌊

Hey y'all it's time for round 2 of my back-to-back reading! I have to admit I was a little upset that the widespread glitch in tumblr's tags last night messed the mini event up a bit; I was disappointed that my reading wasn't visible in the search until earlier this evening. But it's not gonna stop me from submitting the 2nd half anyway! So if you haven't seen part 1 yet I highly encourage you to check it out as it's my last reading of 2024.

(Yes, I've decided to go with spring colors for these piles!)

Pick any one of the three images above to find out what's beginning for you:

Pile 1: Morganite Nest Pile 2: Aventurine Palm Pile 3: Larimar Sea

Pile 1: Morganite Nest

Knight of Pentacles, King of Pentacles, Page of Swords, 7 of Swords; Non-Attachment, Co-Create, DNA - Karma, Acceptance: all is as it should be

How's it going, pile 1? Your next chapter is going to be a slow and steady one and I get that, in some respects, this will be like a breath of fresh air. In other times, it may test your patience. But there's a sense of serenity that's emerging from you as a result of past experience. You're realizing that some things manifest more brilliantly when they're given their time to form and flourish. I think of all knights, the Knight of Pentacles respects the necessity of sitting back and letting actions speak for themselves before pushing towards the next act. So I see an equal play here of you taking action on something and then detaching from the outcome until you're able to make your next move. This doesn't always mean things have to move slowly, in fact when done in confidence this could become a regular ritual enough to build momentum.

It's like playing a turn based game for the first time; we see somebody play the same game quickly and wonder how it all began. It all began with learning the ropes, the basic moves one by one, until it became ingrained into gamemaster's body as a habit. This beginning is all about embracing the angels of habit forming while making peace with the devils of difficult patterns that must be reconfigured. Habits, either way you spin them, are powerful. In this next phase of life, you're able to balance the two minds, the one focused on abstract goals and the one focused on earthly desires. I'm getting this understanding that both parts need to be heard to be in harmony with each other.

Finally, you're learning a lot in this new beginning as the Page of Swords, but the biggest lesson this year will be in recognizing that you can bring your greatest goals to fruition as the King of Pentacles. He represents your "how" in this reading, meaning that you already possess the strength to build yourself up and it's up to you to use it in a balanced way. This reading, for the most part, seems to be about work-life or school-life balance, though there is also a message here for ambitious creators too. I see you being able to complete many things this year coupled with the sense that you're working along with the universe rather than against it. You're able to discern your capacities from what the world can bring you, what's in your hands versus what's out. And that knowledge is strong, pile 1! You'll have the stamina and the patience to see things through while staying grounded. Reach for the stars and, after you touch them, be sure the clouds catch you and bring you back to the earth once again.

Pile 2: Aventurine Palm

XX Judgement, 9 of Swords, The Prism, Page of Cups; Confidence, Neverending Story, Love - Compassion, Nurture: grow a great life

Hey, pile 2. I wanted to mention that even before I started your reading, a "self-love" card fell out of one of my oracle card decks as I was clearing my desk to prepare your reading. I didn't think much of it until I drew your cards and then knew what it was all about! Pile 2, your next beginning is going to involve so much more personal care for your own well being and happiness. I'm feeling with the Judgement card like this is gonna come almost as a revelation to you. You're going to be given a message that will rock you to your core in regards to old beliefs. This may come as a story someone tells you, or through a work of fiction. It could be something you witness secondhand that causes you to rethink some ideas.

Your beginning is going to come as a wake up call to look after yourself more. Not just in regards to self-care, but in terms of how you perceive yourself as well. How you believe in yourself, and how much trust you're able to put into your own self-belief. The 9 of Swords makes total sense with this as this person's depicted to be falling. Your old self-limiting beliefs that kept you in a loop of confusion and worry are falling away in this next chapter. Being there for yourself is just going to make "sense", I don't know how else to put it. It's like how I'm required to inspect my car every year, but I'm not required to have a yearly physical for my body. It makes sense to look after the car, so much so that it's legally obliged, but I have to be the one to decide if I am worth the same "inspection" for my own health (assuming it's all affordable ahem). The car is being taken care of so it can work right on the road, but can I function? Here I go, comparing myself to a machine, while saying that I'm "fine".

Strong, justifiable anger I'm channeling here. This is the argument I hear in my head right now. "Why do we treat objects better than people?" This is what's changing for you, dear pile 2. It's like caring for yourself won't be seen as just necessary for simply "functioning", but as an act of empowerment for your own life separate of society's. You're right, people should be treated better than material things. Your outrage for others' sake is a reflection of your needs. This blank card with the gem is called Prism, and simply represents everything, all that is. And a loving open palm rests beneath it. This is you seeing your own inner light and worthiness and recognizing gentleness as a great priority. The next chapter in your life calls for radical compassion that spills outward and it starts from you filling your own cup so much that it overflows.

Pile 3: Larimar Sea

7 of Wands, 6 of Cups, X Wheel of Fortune, Queen of Swords (Rx); Festivity, Orphaned, Dragonfly - Emergence, Timing: wait for the right moment

Hello, pile 3. I see a bold new beginning for you filled with vitality. You'll be taking charge life by the horns to go where you've been deeply demanding. No room for auto-pilot based decisions anymore; you will be at the helm of your ship to steer it towards your desire. There is an almost aggressive pollyanna vibe to this reading, insistent on joy. I think you've been striving for this kind of joy for a while, but letting things be as they always were doesn't tend to bring novel results. You're taking more of an active stance on your dreams and that's admirable, pile 3.

I'm kind of getting Rapunzel from Tangled here in how she struggled both inside and out to break free and seek what she knew would fulfill her. Others called her immature but still became inspired to do great things because of that naive hope she held. You are filling your plate with what you want and casting out the naysayers who try to drag you down. You're saying no to those who yell "stop having fun around here!". It is a huge and liberating but also scary feeling to own up to what you want. Like with Rapunzel, there's a mixture of cheering and crying to be had. Your childhood stories are reaching out to you; they want you to reintegrate their lessons for you to take with you moving forward. It's easy to discount them as cheesy, but oftentimes it's those old messages that impact us the deepest. Honoring your inner child is helping you restore your boundaries and reclaim the tower that once held you back as your own.

Your next beginning involves a beautiful glow up due to the immense amount of respect you give to yourself, so much so that you'll be unable to put up with less. Things are turning to your favor as you adapt to life's conditions without losing your emotional core. Some of you will discover a more competitive side to your nature, which may come as a surprise. Perhaps this side was suppressed in childhood but is renewing itself to be understood again. This new beginning will be more able to support you, should you choose to take a bold path to get into something competitive, like playing sports or signing up for an online poetry contest. For others, this is more about pursuing the things you didn't think you had the audacity to do. As long as you take things in stride and don't overthink it, embracing this fierceness will help you burst out of the cocoon like a newborn dragonfly when the time is right. No longer hiding beneath the rocks, the wheels are turning and allowing you to fly forth from the waters.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2025, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[steddieas-shegoes]

all mixed up

for @steddielovemonth prompt “love is the perfect mixtape’

rated t | 940 words | cw: brief mention of recreational drug use | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, fluff

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The silence in the car was stifling.

It was hot. Like, entirely too hot.

Steve was about five seconds away from taking his shirt off and dealing with Robin’s rolled eyes when Eddie, surprisingly, beat him to it.

The windows were down, but the radio was off, and sweat was dripping from every pore of their bodies onto the sticky leather seats of Steve’s car.

Eddie’s shirt was sitting on the seat next to him, and one of his hands was gathering his hair up so he could get some wind on his neck, not that the wind was any real help.

“What if we just all go to Robin’s?” Eddie asked when they were only a block away from her house. “Soak up some cool air.”

“Her parents are home,” Steve said for the fifth time.

“I don’t see the issue.”

“They think you were targeting me as the next victim,” Robin shook her head. “I don’t know how many times I’ve explained to them-“

“Fine!” Eddie said, too hot to bother listening or trying to argue. “But I swear we’re getting the AC in this car fixed tomorrow.”

“Oh, do you suddenly have $140?” Steve was met with silence. “Thought so.”

When Robin got out of the car, she slipped $20 into Steve’s hand. “For gas or AC, whatever.”

It was the first time Eddie had ever seen her give Steve any form of payment for rides, and probably the last going off of the way Steve’s entire face went from mildly uncomfortable to physical pain.

Eddie moved to the passenger seat and buckled up.

That was the biggest rule in Steve’s car: everyone wore seatbelts unless they were being chased by Upside Down creatures.

Steve backed out of the driveway once Robin was inside, and once again tried to flip the AC on.

Nothing.

“Why did this have to happen right before the hottest part of the year?” Eddie groaned.

“Just lucky,” Steve shrugged.

He should’ve taken his shirt off when he was in Robin’s driveway.

He pretended not to be distracted by the sweat glistening on Eddie’s chest, his skin flush pink from the heat. Steve pretended to not notice his newest tattoo, a nail bat that could have been identical to Steve’s real one under his bed.

“Oh!” Eddie suddenly said, nearly making Steve slam on the brakes or steer off the road. Maybe both.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot,” Eddie started to say as he reached through the backpack he had on the floor at his feet. “I made a…ah-ha!”

He held up a small rectangle, beaming over at Steve, who was too focused on driving to really see what he was holding.

“Uh. What is it?” He asked.

“It’s a mixtape! You were complaining about the kids stealing all your tapes and I thought I could make one for you,” Eddie opened the cassette case and shoved the tape in the tape deck. “I fit as much of what I knew you had on here, but there are limits to my magic so-“

“You seriously made me a mixtape of a bunch of pop songs?” Steve rolled to a stop at a stop sign, finally able to properly look over at Eddie.

He was pulling a lock of hair into his mouth, nervously looking back at Steve like he was unsure he’d done the right thing, like this was a test he hadn’t studied for and had a big chance of failing.

“I mean, I did throw in one of my favorite songs halfway to shake things up,” Eddie said nervously.

“You recorded fucking Blondie on a tape for me?” Steve asked incredulously.

“One song is Blondie, but-“

“And Tears for Fears?” Steve was still stopped in the road.

Eddie glanced behind them, ignoring the squeak of his slick skin rubbing against the seat. No cars, thankfully.

“Yeah, they’re on there.”

Steve put the car in park.

“Steve, you’re in the road, you can’t-“

“Shut up!” Steve turned completely towards Eddie, his face serious. “You made me a mixtape.”

“Yes and now I’m regretting mentioning it while you were driving.” Duran, Duran started playing and Steve let out a small gasp. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Do you remember when you told me that music was your love language? We were high and you said that you would give the person you love a mixtape to show you cared about them?”

He did say that. It was well over a month ago, when he and Steve had been sitting on his roof smoking, when Eddie had almost told him then how much he loved him. He’d held back, but barely.

“I…yeah, I remember.”

“And you made me a mixtape.”

“I did.”

“Eddie…”

“Steve…”

“Is this you telling me you love me?”

It wasn’t. Not intentionally. Not really.

But as expected, Steve saw through him, had a memory like a steel trap despite how many times he’d had his lights knocked out.

“You love me.”

Eddie was desperate to touch him, but the reminder of how hot it was, how much sweat was dripping off of him made him pause.

“When we get to your house, I’ll tell you.”

“What? Why not now?” Steve pouted.

Eddie fell harder.

“Because if I kiss you in this car, I’ll be mad about suffering in the heat longer. You have a house with AC and a cold shower." Eddie poked Steve's bottom lip back in. "I can show you if you hurry."

Steve took the car out of park and hit the gas, his perfect mixtape playing on the radio and Eddie laughing in the passenger seat.

[yo-ri-su-ki]

Hello! I have a funny cute and funny request. Dante and the reader are playing a card game, and whoever loses the card game has to do whatever the winner chooses. Well, Dante loses, and now he has to do something funny.

High Stakes And Hijinks

An: I HAD THE BEST TIME WRITING THIS OMFG IT MADE ME LAUGH

It had started innocently enough.

You and Dante were sprawled out on the floor of Devil May Cry, an open bag of chips between you, a deck of very questionable-looking playing cards in your hands, and the TV blaring in the background. Rain pattered softly against the windows, trapping the two of you indoors with nothing but your collective boredom and Dante’s cocky grin.

“So,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him over your hand of cards. “Whoever loses this next round has to do whatever the winner says.”

He smirked, utterly confident. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Just don’t cry when I win.”

You grinned like a gremlin. “Oh, I won’t.”

A few minutes later…

“…Is that a straight flush?” Dante’s smile froze.

You laid down your cards with the flair of a magician revealing their final trick. “Read it and weep, demon boy.”

“No way. No way!” He flopped backward in defeat, hands over his face. “This is rigged. You’ve got psychic powers or something.”

“Or maybe,” you said smugly, leaning over him, “you’re just bad at cards.”

“I’m good at plenty of things,” he grumbled.

“Well then, good sir, it’s time to test your talents.”

Ten Minutes Later…

Dante Sparda the infamous devil hunter, half-demon powerhouse, ladies’ man extraordinaire

stood in the middle of the street wearing a bright pink tutu, matching leg warmers, and a glittery plastic tiara that sat slightly crooked on his head.

He struck a pose as a passing elderly woman blinked at him in confusion.

“Who’s your fairy demon daddy?” he said with a wink.

You were crying from laughter across the street, doubled over with your phone held high. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you actually did it!”

“I lost fair and square,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “A man’s got to own up to his failures. Even if that means becoming Princess Dante of the Glitter Realm.”

“You're making a scene!”

“Exactly what you ordered, wasn’t it?” He wiggled his hips for emphasis. “I don’t do half-measures, babe.”

A small child walked up to him, holding a juice box. “Are you a ballerina?”

“Only on Tuesdays,” Dante said, patting the tiara. “Stay in school, kid.”

You wheezed. “This is going on the agency’s bulletin board.”

“I swear to Sparda, if Lady sees this…”

You grinned evilly. “She’s getting a framed copy.”

Dante sighed in defeat but couldn’t help laughing when he looked at you, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Alright, alright,” he said, stepping back toward you and taking your hand dramatically. “Next time, I’m picking the dare. And you’re not getting off with just a tutu.”

You raised a brow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Dante winked. “Depends how good you are at cards next time.”

You hadn’t stopped laughing since Dante spun in a full pirouette for a group of confused tourists. But now, safely back inside the Devil May Cry office and with the tutu mercifully retired, Dante was plotting.

Literally.

He sat at the table with narrowed eyes, cards fanned out in his hands like he was some kind of blackjack war general.

“This time,” he muttered, “the devil gets his due.”

“You said that last time,” you said smugly, sipping your drink. “And I got a new lockscreen photo of you pretending to be a magical girl.”

“Magical Man, thank you.”

You chuckled and reshuffled the deck. “Alright, rematch. Same rules: loser does what the winner says.”

He cracked his neck. “Prepare to serve, human.”

Ten Minutes Later…

“NO!” Dante howled, slamming his cards on the table. “YOU HAD FOUR ACES?!”

You beamed. “Aces beat your two sad little kings, Dante. You know what that means.”

He groaned. “Okay, okay, what humiliating nonsense am I doing this time?”

You grinned like a villain in a Saturday morning cartoon. “You’re going to do… a dramatic soap opera monologue. In Vergil’s coat.”

He stared at you. “…You are one cruel woman.”

“Do it. Or I’m making you wear the tutu again. With fishnets.”

Five minutes later, Dante was standing on top of the couch, Vergil’s blue coat draped over his shoulders, looking like an absolute disaster. He threw one hand over his heart and began.

“Why, Maria?” he cried in the most theatrical voice you’d ever heard. “Why did you leave me for the pizza delivery guy?! I gave you my demon heart, and you shredded it like expired parmesan!”

You clutched your sides, tears of laughter streaming down your face. He stomped around like he was on a stage, gesturing wildly.

“My soul burns brighter than my twin’s judgmental eyebrows! And yet... AND YET!! you chose… STEVE!”

He collapsed dramatically onto the couch, one leg kicked over the backrest like a dying swan.

You applauded. “Bravo. A performance worthy of an Oscar. Or at least a Razzie.”

He peeked up at you with a lazy grin. “Next time, I win.”

“We’ll see, Mr. Drama Queen.”

He rolled over, grabbing the deck again. “One more round. This time, loser has to sing karaoke in a demon bar.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re on.”

He smirked. “Hope you’ve been practicing your Britney Spears.”

Location: A VERY shady demon bar, somewhere in the Underworld.

The place was dim, full of growling patrons, flickering neon signs, and questionable drinks bubbling in mugs that probably bit back. You had no idea why the microphone was shaped like a severed hand—but Dante insisted it was “part of the vibe.”

And now here you were, standing on the tiny stage, a spotlight glaring down on you, while Dante lounged at the bar sipping something glowing blue.

Because you lost.

By one card. One!

Dante waved at you from his barstool, the smuggest grin plastered across his face. “Break a leg, superstar! Or, y’know, get one chewed off.”

You shot him a death glare as the first notes of “Toxic” by Britney Spears crackled from the old speaker system. The demons in the bar turned to look, eyes glowing.

You took a deep breath. If you were going down, you were going down with style.

Two minutes later…

"WITH A TASTE OF YOUR LIPS IM ALL IN A RIDEEEE YOUR TOXIC IM SLIPPING UNDERR"

You were owning it.

"IM ADDICTED TO YOU DON'T YOU KNOW THAT YOUR TOXIIIICC?!"

You spun. You twirled. You even did the hair flip. Demons howled (possibly in support—maybe in pain, unclear). One huge, fanged creature started waving its claws in the air like a glowstick.

Dante choked on his drink, wheezing with laughter.

“My god,” he gasped, slapping the counter. “You’re actually killing it!”

You sang straight into the severed-hand mic, flipping him off mid-chorus without missing a beat. The bar roared.

By the end, a small crowd of demons was clapping, and someone even threw what looked like a… spine? You didn’t question it.

You descended from the stage dramatically and strutted back over to Dante.

“Well?” you asked, breathless.

He clapped, laughing so hard he wiped tears from his eyes. “That was the most unhinged, glorious thing I’ve ever seen. I think you just started a cult.”

The bartender, a leathery imp with a bowtie, handed you a coupon. “One free drink, Princess of Pop.”

You blinked. “…Did I just get promoted?”

Dante leaned in with a lopsided grin. “Looks like someone’s a hit in hell. Who knew?”

You smirked, poking him in the chest. “Your turn next round. And I’m picking Backstreet Boys.”

He paled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.”

You never thought you’d see the day.

Dante Sparda, son of Sparda, devil hunter, resident bad boy of Red Grave City… standing on stage in front of a crowd of bloodthirsty demons, clutching the severed-hand mic like it was the last slice of pizza, as the opening beat of “Everybody (Backstreets back)” echoed through the Underworld’s crusty old speakers.

You were crying laughing before he even opened his mouth.

“Oh my god, we’re back again…” Dante sang in a half-growl, striking a pose so dramatically awful it circled back into amazing.

The crowd paused.

And then LOST IT.

Demons screamed in excitement. One tried to crowd surf and fell flat. A spider demon threw its top hat on stage. The bartender rang a tiny bell and yelled, “GET IT, WHITE HAIRED KING!”

You nearly fell out of your chair.

Dante leaned into it hard. He hip-thrusted. He moonwalked (badly). He did finger guns during the “Am I sexual?” line and winked at a three-headed werewolf.

He pointed directly at you when he belted, “Backstreet’s back—ALRIGHT!!”

You ducked behind your glass, mortified and hysterically proud.

“I hate you!” you yelled over the music.

“YOU LOVE ME!” he shouted back mid-dance break, spinning like a drunken Beyblade.

Post-performance:

Back at your table, Dante collapsed in a heap, dramatically fanning himself with a demonic drink menu.

“Well?” he panted. “Rate my boyband energy.”

You pretended to think. “You looked like a fever dream inside a leather jacket.”

“I am a fever dream,” he said smugly, wiping glitter off his face. “And admit it—you were into it.”

“…Maybe a little.”

“HA! One more round?”

You narrowed your eyes. “If I win again, you’re doing a K-pop routine.”

His soul visibly left his body. “You are crueler than Vergil on leg day.”

You smirked, already shuffling the cards. “Deal with it, Princess of Pop.”

An: Sorry if this isn't what you wanted but I hope you loved Dante singing backstreet boys and wearing a tutu..heh😼

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I bought my car two years ago, and the CD player has never once worked. The door to the slot was jammed shut, and I assumed there was no disc stuck inside it because nothing happened when I pressed eject and it never played anything. For the first few months I owned it I would occasionally try to get it working, but the long term solution was to take the entire dashboard off and either fix or replace the entertainment console which would be prohibitively expensive. Since then, I've totally written off the CD player and have exclusively used the tape deck underneath it instead (the car's from 2006). It doesn't have a 3mm jack, but I bought a tape-to-aux converter so I can still plug in my phone and listen to my playlists that way.

Well, today I was listening to some music and I noticed that the LCD screen on my dashboard said "DISC IN," and there was a little red light flashing next to the slot. On a complete whim I pressed eject for the first time in over 20 months, and a CD popped out!

This has been in there since before April 2023, and the back is all scratched to hell and cloudy. The eject button had never worked before, so this caught me completely off guard! I had my car battery replaced in December of last year, so maybe that jumpstarted the old system? I have no clue. I don't even know if the player works, I don't own any CDs and I'm afraid to try it because another disc might get stuck. If it does work, I'm definitely gonna start a new collection. Tapes are nostalgic novelties, but I really do like being able to skip back and forth. This could be the start of a new era for me.

There's a huge used book sale this weekend and every year there's a corner of the warehouse dedicated to vinyls, tapes, and CDs, so I'll be sure to pick something up to give it a test. They also sell 8 tracks, but my car isn't that old. I'll keep you posted.