gloriousdreamerland

[gloriousdreamerland]

You around kids

fem!reader

characters: zoro, sanji, law, shanks and ace

tags: fluff, light comedy, established relationship, comfort, emotional bonding, humor

a/n: sorry it's all cramped but I reached tumblr's limits of blocks per post, so if you need a easier way to read this, click on the ao3 link!!

words count: around 2.2k - 3.4k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The sun is warm but not too hot. A soft breeze plays with your hair as you walk beside Zoro through the busy town streets. The island is new, full of life and color, and the crew has scattered to do their own things. Nami went shopping, Sanji chased after ingredients... or maybe girls, and Luffy? Who knows.

You, on the other hand, just wanted a calm day. A nice walk. No drama. Zoro didn’t have any plans, so he chose to stay with you.

“Didn’t feel like wandering off,” he said with a shrug “Plus, you always get lost.”

“I do not!” you argue with a little laugh.

“You got lost on the ship” he says with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, bumping his arm lightly with your shoulder “That happened once. And you’re the one to talk???”

Zoro just grunts, amused, and keeps walking beside you. His hands are in his pockets, his swords resting at his side like always. He walks with that usual lazy confidence, but you can tell he’s relaxed.

Then, you hear a small cry. Like a kid. You stop walking “Did you hear that?”

Zoro lifts his head “Yeah.”

You both follow the sound, turning down a quieter street. And there, near the side of a fruit stand, is a small boy. He can’t be older than five. His face is red from crying, his small hands wiping at his eyes. He looks scared.

“Hey, sweetie,” you say gently, kneeling in front of him “What’s wrong?”

The boy looks up at you with big teary eyes “M-Mommy’s gone…”

“Oh no,” you whisper “You got separated?”

He nods fast, then suddenly throws his arms around you. You nearly fall back from the sudden hug but Zoro puts a hand on the back of your head, gently, just to keep you balanced.

Zoro’s eyes widen. You glance up at him, then back down at the boy. He’s shaking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay...” you say, rubbing his back “We’ll help you find her. I promise.”

The boy doesn’t let go. He clings tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear too.

Zoro scratches the back of his neck “You sure about this? We could find a guard or something.”

You give him a look “Zoro, he’s terrified. Would you want a stranger dragging you around if you were five?”

He sighs “Fine. So we’re babysitters now.”

You smile a little “Just until we find his mom.”

Zoro folds his arms, watching the boy with a face that’s trying very hard not to be soft “What’s his name?”

You turn to the boy “Sweetie, what’s your name?”

He sniffs “Kenji.”

“Okay, Kenji,” you say with a warm smile “I’m Y/N and this is Zoro. He’s kind of grumpy, but he’s nice.”

Zoro makes a sound like a scoff, but he doesn’t argue.

Kenji peeks up at Zoro “You have swords…”

Zoro raises a brow “Yeah. Don’t worry. I only use them on bad guys.”

Kenji nods seriously, then looks back at you “You’re really pretty…”

Your face heats up a little. Zoro frowns “Kid, don’t start.”

You laugh, standing up slowly as Kenji keeps his little hand in yours “Alright, let’s find your mom, okay?”

Kenji nods, still holding onto you like you’re his lifeline.

Zoro walks on your other side, still acting cool but every now and then, you catch him glancing down at the kid. And maybe, just maybe, you see a small smile on his face. Just a little one.

You’ve been walking around the town for a while now, asking people if they’ve seen Kenji’s mom. A few shopkeepers shake their heads.

Some say, “Sorry, haven’t seen any woman looking for a kid.”

You try the market square next. No luck there either.

Kenji’s small hand is still in yours, holding tight like he’s afraid to let go. His other hand rubs at his eye now and then, but he’s not crying anymore. Still, he stays close. You’re like his safe space now.

You glance down at him “Kenji, do you remember where you last saw your mom? Were you near a shop?”

He shakes his head slowly “I was looking at fish. Then I turned and she was gone.”

“Fish,” Zoro repeats “That narrows it down to…everywhere.”

You sigh “We’ll keep looking.”

Kenji tugs on your hand “Are you tired? I can walk by myself.”

Your heart melts “I’m okay, Kenji. But thank you.”

Then suddenly he reaches out and grabs Zoro’s hand too and you both freeze. Zoro stares at the small hand holding his, like it’s some kind of bomb.

Kenji doesn’t notice. He just keeps walking like it’s the most normal thing in the world, one hand in yours, one hand in Zoro’s. As if he’s done it a hundred times.

You glance at Zoro, and your face gets warm. Really warm. This…looks kind of cute. No… more than cute. It looks like… a little family.

Zoro’s eye twitches. He knows what it looks like too.

A woman passing by gives you a soft smile “Oh, what a sweet family.”

You nearly choke “Oh! We’re not—uh—we’re just helping—”

Zoro mutters under his breath, “For the love of… please don’t let anyone from the crew see this.”

You whisper back, “Why? Afraid they’ll think you’ve gone soft?”

He scowls “They will. And they’ll never shut up about it.”

But he doesn’t pull his hand away from Kenji’s. Not even when the kid swings his hands a little. You try not to smile too much, but your cheeks still feel hot.

“Y’know,” you say after a moment, “you don’t look that grumpy right now.”

Zoro gives you a side-eye “Say that again and I’ll let you get lost on purpose.”

You grin “Worth it.”

Kenji suddenly asks, “Are you and the sword guy married?”

You and Zoro speak at the same time.

You: “W-what? No!”

Zoro: “Hell no!”

You look at Zoro kinda offended by his tone.

Kenji tilts his head “But you look like it…”

Zoro lets out a long sigh “Kid, you really trying to make my day harder?”

You can’t stop laughing now. Even Zoro, after a beat, smiles just a little. Just enough to make your heart do a little flip.

The sun’s still out, the breeze still nice and you still haven’t found Kenji’s mom, but…you’re doing okay. And as long as the kid keeps walking between you and Zoro, hands held tight, maybe it’s not such a bad way to spend the day.

Kenji’s hand is still snug in yours, and Zoro hasn’t pulled away from the other side either, though his eye twitches every few minutes like he’s trying to pretend it’s not happening.

You’re still wandering through the streets, asking around and scanning every corner for a woman calling out for her son. No luck. Then suddenly, Kenji tugs at your hand and mumbles, “I’m hungry…”

You pause “Oh… right. You haven’t eaten anything.”

Zoro groans immediately “We don’t have time to stop and eat. We’re looking for your mom, remember?”

Kenji’s bottom lip quivers “But… my tummy hurts…”

He rubs his stomach with both hands now, giving you the most tragic look you’ve ever seen. You’re done. Defeated.

“Zoro,” you whisper, “he’s so cute. Let him eat.”

Zoro crosses his arms “He’ll survive. Kids bounce back.”

Kenji grabs your arm again “Please… just a snack?”

Your heart melts into a puddle “Zoroooo…”

Zoro looks at you and you’re doing it too… That look. Eyes wide, soft voice, the tiniest pout. Now both you and Kenji are staring at him like abandoned puppies in the rain.

He curses under his breath “You guys are teaming up on me.”

You say nothing, you just keep pouting. He rubs his face like this is physical pain “Fine. Fine. Twenty minutes.”

Kenji jumps up and cheers “Yay!”

You smile up at Zoro, wrapping your hand around his arm “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”

He groans again, but you catch the way his ears turn a little red. You head toward a food stall nearby, and as soon as you do, you hear a loud voice call out “Oi! Zoro! Y/N!”

You both turn and there they are.

Luffy and Sanji, carrying way too many bags and snacks.

Sanji’s eyes go wide when he sees the kid. He drops his bags “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

Kenji looks up at you, his mouth full of fried dough “Who’s the loud guy?”

Sanji points dramatically at Zoro “How could you?! You stole her away and now—now you even have a child?!”

Zoro blinks “What are you talking about? Do you know how kids are made?”

Luffy laughs “He looks just like your kid. You’re all holding hands and stuff. It’s so cute! You should make a real one!”

Sanji falls to the ground instantly “I’m dying. I’m literally dead. This is hell.”

You’re laughing too hard to speak.

Kenji, still chewing, leans over to Zoro “Are those your friends? They’re weird.”

Zoro sighs “You have no idea.”

Luffy crouches next to Kenji, nose almost touching his “Heyyy, what’s your name?”

“Kenji!”

“Cool name! You wanna be a pirate?”

Zoro grabs Luffy by the back of his vest and yanks him away “No recruiting children.”

Sanji stands back up, wiping his nose “Mon dieu… Y/N, if you ever decide you want real romance, you know where to find me.”

You smile sweetly “You’d have to fight Zoro for me first.”

Sanji turns pale, not because he’s scared but because you think of Zoro right away “…I’m good.”

Kenji tugs your sleeve again “Are they always like this?”

“Pretty much” you say with a giggle. Zoro mutters, “You get used to it.”

Even as the chaos unfolds, Zoro moves just a little closer to you. His hand brushes against yours again and Kenji, still holding your other hand, starts humming happily between bites.

After the chaos (and mild heartbreak) that was Luffy and Sanji, you wave them off with a tired smile. Sanji is still crying in the background. Luffy’s trying to steal a meat bun from someone’s cart.

“Bye, Kenji!” Luffy shouts cheerfully “Don’t forget to train so you can join my crew!”

“I won’t!” Kenji waves both hands like you’re sending off a ship.

You tug his sleeve gently “Okay, come on. Let’s keep going.”

Zoro mutters under his breath as you walk again, heading farther into the town “Out of everyone… they had to be the ones we run into.”

You smirk “Could’ve been worse.”

“No. That was the worst.”

“Even worse than running into ALL of them together?”

He gives you a sharp side-eye “Don’t push your luck.”

You giggle, swinging Kenji’s hand a little as you walk. He’s full now, calmer, but still sticking to you like glue. Zoro’s hands are back in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched. He looks like he wants to complain, but he’s still here. That says enough.

Then, out of nowhere, Kenji tugs at your hand and looks up at you seriously “Miss Y/N? Can I call you Mama?”

You freeze. Everything around you stops. The breeze. The street noise. Even Zoro seems to pause mid-step. You blink at him “W-What?”

Kenji looks a little nervous now, like he’s not sure if he’s done something wrong “I know you’re not really… but you’re really nice, and you make me feel safe like my mama does. I miss her…”

Your throat closes. You don’t even know what to say. Tears prick at your eyes so fast you can’t stop them. One slides down your cheek before you can hide it.

You crouch down, hugging him gently, trying not to cry too hard “Kenji… I’m sure your mom misses you too. We’re gonna find her, okay? I promise.”

He nods, leaning into your hug.

Zoro is quiet behind you. For once, not a single sarcastic comment. When you glance up at him, you see that flicker in his eyes. Something soft. Something… careful. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. And somehow, that silence means more than words.

You’re walking again, slowly now. Kenji hums as he walks between you and Zoro, swinging your hands. He’s more cheerful after eating, even skipping a little. It’s almost hard to believe this is the same scared little boy from earlier.

Then you hear a woman’s voice, panicked and breathless “Kenji?! Kenji!!”

All three of you turn around, a woman is running toward you, her eyes wide with worry. Her hair’s a bit messy.

Kenji gasps “Mama!!”

He lets go of both your hands and runs to her. You and Zoro stop walking, watching as he throws himself into her arms. She catches him and falls to her knees, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, thank god,” she whispers, burying her face in his shoulder “I’ve been looking everywhere, Kenji, I was so scared…”

“I’m okay, Mama!” he says brightly “I wasn’t alone!”

You and Zoro stand quietly a few steps away, watching them hold each other. Zoro crosses his arms and says nothing. But his expression is… softer now. Thoughtful.

Then, Kenji turns and grabs his mom’s hand.

“Come on! Come meet them!” he says, tugging her toward you.

She lets herself be pulled along and gives you a teary smile “You… You helped him?”

You nod “Yeah. He was alone and crying. We couldn’t just leave him.”

She presses a hand to her chest, still catching her breath “Thank you. Truly. I don’t know what I would’ve done—”

She starts reaching into a small pouch “Please, I have a little money—let me give you something.”

You shake your head quickly “Oh no, really. That’s okay. We had… a good day, actually. He’s a sweet kid.”

Kenji beams proudly beside her. Zoro’s still silent, standing with that usual lazy posture.

The woman glances at him, hesitating “Are you sure? Maybe he wants—”

Before she finishes, Zoro shrugs “Y/N did all of it by herself.”

You glance over at him. That’s not true, you both helped. But he says it like he wants to make clear that the kindness was yours. You give him a small smile.

The woman bows slightly “Thank you both again.”

You nod, just about to say goodbye when Kenji suddenly throws his arms around your waist again.

You blink “Kenji…?”

He’s crying again. Quiet, but real tears, as he mumbles “Do you… have to go?”

Your throat tightens “Hey, don’t cry… You’re with your mom now. You’re safe.”

“I know,” he says, sniffling “But I don’t want you to go. I love you… you’re my best friend.”

Tears fill your eyes instantly. You hug him back, squeezing gently, as you whisper “I love you too, Kenji, you’re really brave, you know?”

He looks up at his mom “Can she stay with us?”

Her eyes soften “Sweetheart… she has her own life and friends. But maybe one day you’ll meet again.”

He wipes his face with his sleeve, still clinging to you. Zoro turns away slightly, trying to act like he’s not watching, but his ears are red and in his chest, something warm builds, quiet and slow.

You’re so gentle. So natural with children. And for the first time… He lets the thought sit. Maybe a future like that, with you, soft like this… wouldn’t be so bad.

Eventually, you say goodbye. Kenji waves and waves until he’s out of sight. You and Zoro walk in silence for a few minutes. Then… you feel something. Zoro reaches over and takes your hand.

You blink, surprised “Zoro?”

He doesn’t look at you, eyes straight ahead, face a little pink “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just… thought you might need it.”

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. A few more steps go by before he adds, quietly “You’d be good at it.”

“At what?” you ask.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly “…Being a mom.”

Your heart skips as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye “Not saying right now. Just… someday. If you wanted that.”

You stop for a second, staring at him. He’s not blushing anymore. He’s serious.

You nod, eyes soft “With you… yeah. I think I’d want that someday.”

Zoro looks away quickly, but you see the tiniest smile on his face.

You let go of his hand and he turns to look at you surprised. But then you jump and put your arms around his neck as he grabs you by your waist to steady you.

You kiss him quickly but softly while saying “I love you so much Zoro, thank you.”

He’s still surprised but asks “What are you thanking me for?”

“To think of me when you think about your future.”

He blushes and starts to look away but you catches him saying “Of course I would.”

You smile as you let go of him and then take his hand again as you swing it and walk as you’re the happiest girl in the world, with your biggest smile one and humming a little cute song.

Zoro watches you all the time with the softest smile he ever had.

── .✦ Sanji:

The sun sets behind the island’s hills, painting the sky in soft orange and purple. You can already hear music and laughter in the air. The village is buzzing with excitement.

“We’re just in time for the Moonlight Festival” Nami tells everyone, smiling as a few locals greet her.

“They want us to join?” Luffy asks, his eyes already searching for food.

“Yes,” Robin says “They’ve prepared clothes for us. It’s part of their tradition.”

You glance around. The people here are wearing bright outfits, flowing skirts, golden sashes, beads, and flowers in their hair. It looks magical.

One of the village girls walks up to you, holding a folded dress.

“For you,” she says with a kind smile “You’ll look beautiful in it.”

Sanji’s eyes narrow, already hovering at your side “She always does” he says softly, brushing a hand across your lower back.

You smile and take the dress inside a small tent to change.

When you step out, the crew is waiting. Zoro looks away with a bored expression. Usopp whistles.

But Sanji�� he freezes. His face turns red in two seconds. Then an elegant nosebleed.

“Oh my god, Sanji!” you rush to him as he stumbles back, heart-shaped eyes glowing like lanterns.

“You… You can’t just walk out looking like that, mon amour,” he gasps “I was not prepared. That dress—you… your everything—!”

You laugh “You’re so dramatic.”

“I am in love,” he moans, holding a hand over his nose “And now I’m dying.”

“Save it for later, lovebirds,” Nami rolls her eyes “Let’s go! The festival’s starting!”

The streets are glowing with lanterns. Drums beat in the background. Kids are running around with flower crowns. You hold Sanji’s hand tight as you pull him through the crowd.

“Wait, wait—look!” you gasp, pointing to a stall “Caramel apples!”

Sanji chuckles “Mon amour, you know I can make you better ones. Twice as sweet. Three times as shiny.”

“Yeah, but these are festival apples,” you grin, bouncing on your heels “It’s different!”

He groans playfully but fishes some coins from his pocket “Fine. Who am I to stop you from being adorable?”

You grab the apple and take a big bite “Mmm! Okay. Yours are still better.”

He smirks “Told you.”

You two stroll past more stalls. Roasted nuts, cotton candy, fruit juice in bamboo cups… you try everything. Sanji keeps spoiling you without complaint, even if he keeps saying, “You know I could cook all of this for you, mon trésor.”

You wipe a bit of syrup off his cheek with your thumb “Yeah, but this is more fun.”

You turn a corner and freeze “Sanji!” you gasp.

“Hm?”

“There!” You point to a game stall. Behind it is a giant plushie… a round, smiling bear with soft ears and a flower crown.

Sanji squints “You want that thing?”

“Yes! It’s so cute!”

But before you can step forward, a group of small kids run up.

“We saw it first!” one of them shouts.

“No way! I’m gonna win it!” another boy says, grabbing a ball from the counter.

You look at Sanji. He cracks his knuckles and smiles “A competition, huh?”

“Winner takes the bear!” the tallest kid says.

Sanji kneels to their level, grinning “Alright, little ones. You’re on.”

Sanji throws the first ball... Miss.

“Damn it—”

The ball bounces off the edge of the target, knocking over nothing but his pride.

“Too slow, old man!” the little boy cackles and throws his own. Miss.

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Oh-ho? You think you’re better?”

“I am better!” the kid huffs, grabbing another ball. Miss again.

Sanji leans in “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Your aim is trash.”

“So is yours.”

They go back and forth for the next minute. Ball after ball. Miss after miss. Neither hits a single target. Sanji’s hair is messier now, and the kid’s cheeks are puffed in frustration.

You cross your arms and bite your lip to stop laughing. Finally, Sanji steps back, hands on his hips.

“This game is clearly rigged.”

The kid points at him “You’re just mad because you lost.”

“You lost too!” Sanji snaps back, eyes wide.

“Only ‘cause you distracted me with your loud yelling!”

They both look exhausted and full of mutual respect…and mutual failure.

You walk up between them and say, “Okay. My turn.”

Sanji blinks “Mon amour, are you sure? It’s harder than it looks—”

“I wanna try.” you say, handing him the caramel apple you’re still holding.

You pick up the ball. It’s heavier than you thought, but manageable. You narrow your eyes, pull back your arm and… You knock over all three cans. Clean.

Sanji’s jaw drops. The little boy gasps so loudly, you think he might pass out.

The game keeper just laughs and hands you the giant plushie “Well done, miss!”

You grin and hug the bear tight “I did it!”

Sanji laughs, not caring at all about being shown up “You’re amazing!” he says proudly “Absolutely perfect.”

He kisses your cheek with zero shame “My talented goddess.”

But the kid… the kid is just staring at you now. Like something huge just clicked in his little brain.

“…What?” you ask, smiling at him “You can still try again, maybe there’s another plush—”

“I love you.”

You blink “Huh?”

“I don’t know why,” he says, completely serious “But I do.”

You stand there with your plushie, speechless. Sanji snorts so hard he has to turn around to hide his laugh.

“Is it the bear?” you ask gently.

The boy shakes his head “It’s your face. And your power.”

Sanji is wheezing now “That’s a strong statement, mon petit rival.”

“I said what I said,” the kid replies firmly, hands in his pockets “If you break up with him, I’ll wait for you.”

You pat his head “Thanks, but… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

He sighs “Fine. But just know… you’re my first love now.”

Sanji finally turns around, wiping tears from his eyes “I’ve been defeated. By a child.”

You both laugh, holding hands again. You keep walking through the festival lights, one giant plush bear in your arms, and the chef at your side.

The night deepens, and the music slows down.

Soft lanterns float above the square, swaying gently in the warm breeze. They’re glowing in different colors as orange, pink, soft blue, like slow-moving stars. Couples begin dancing in the middle of the cobblestone plaza.

Sanji gently tugs your hand “Dance with me, mon amour?”

You grin and nod “Only if you don’t step on my feet.”

“I would rather die.”

He places one hand on your waist, the other holding yours with a practiced ease. His touch is warm and careful, like he’s afraid to break you. You sway together under the lanterns, the sounds of violins and laughter floating around you.

“You look beautiful in this light.” he says quietly.

You look up at him, smiling “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. This moment is soft. Sweet. Just the two of you… until…

“HEY, Y/N!”

Your head jerks up. You turn. A small voice echoes through the crowd.

Sanji’s brows twitch “No.”

Walking through the legs of villagers, holding something behind his back, is that kid.

Your jaw drops “How do you know my name?”

He stops right in front of you, puffing his chest like a tiny warrior “The idiot said it like five times while we were throwing balls. ‘You’ve got this, Y/N! Knock ‘em down, Y/N!’”

You blink “Oh… yeah. That sounds like him.”

Sanji coughs “You remembered that?”

The kid pulls out what he was hiding behind his back, a delicate, glowing flower. Its petals shimmer like they’ve been dusted with stardust.

“This is for you,” the boy says, holding it out with both hands like an offering “You deserve something this pretty.”

Your heart does a little owh at the sweetness “Aww… thank you.”

You take it gently, not wanting to crush it.

Sanji, meanwhile, stares at the flower. Then at the kid. Then at you.

He chuckles lightly “How… thoughtful.”

You glance at him “You okay?”

“Oh, me? Perfectly fine,” he says with a smile that’s way too tight “Just enjoying the sight of my girlfriend being courted by an eight-year-old.”

The kid looks up at him “Nine.”

“Ah, of course. My mistake,” Sanji says, voice calm but eyes twitching “A mature gentleman.”

“Way cooler than you.” the boy mumbles.

Sanji crouches down slightly, still smiling “You want a kitchen knife to go with that flower, mon petit rival?”

You step between them, laughing “Okay, okay, enough. This is getting weird.”

The kid sighs and shrugs “I’ll just wait till you’re single. No rush.”

“There will be no waiting.” Sanji grits through his teeth.

“Time is on my side, old man.”

“SHE’S MY AGE TOO!” Sanji yells irritated.

You nearly drop the flower from laughing so hard. You pat the boy on the head again “You’re really sweet, but I’m staying with the idiot for now.”

“Forever,” Sanji corrects “She’s staying with me forever.”

“Yeah, yeah. For now…” the boy says, walking away into the lantern lights.

You turn to Sanji, still giggling “You were jealous.”

He raises a hand, dramatic as ever “I can’t believe he kept insulting me. I was not jealous. I was threatened.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He sighs “Okay. I was… mildly unsettled.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He smirks again “And you’re always cute. But please… no more nine-year-old rivals.”

The music quiets. The stalls are closing. Lanterns start floating into the sky, some by string, some released into the wind with wishes written on paper. The villagers begin gathering near the beach and hilltops.

You stretch your arms with a happy sigh, the big plushie still tucked under one arm “It’s almost time for fireworks, right?”

Sanji nods and gently takes your hand “Follow me, mon love. I found us a better spot. Private. High up. Just us.”

“Romantic?”

He grins “Always.”

He leads you up a narrow path behind the main square, through a line of trees. A few lanterns hang along the way, giving the path a warm glow. Eventually, you reach a small wooden platform, almost like an old lookout. There’s a railing, a perfect view of the sky, and just enough space for the two of you to stand side by side.

You lean against the railing, wide-eyed “This is perfect…”

Sanji steps behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder “I know. Just like you.”

You snort “Cheesy.”

He kisses your temple “True.”

Just as the wind picks up slightly and you snuggle closer into his arms…“Hey!”

You both turn your heads.

It’s the kid. Again.

Sanji groans, stepping forward “Are you following us now?”

The boy crosses his arms “I think destiny wants me and Y/N together.”

Sanji points at him “She’s literally standing here with me, holding the bear I helped her win—”

“I pushed you to give up and her winning it, so technically I helped too.”

“You called me ‘trash’ and insulted me!”

“And yet… here we are.” He spreads his arms as if the universe just proved his point.

You lean on the railing, grinning like an idiot while they go at it again “I feel like I should get popcorn for this.”

The kid puffs up his chest “You’ll thank me when we’re married one day.”

“I am going to faint.” Sanji rubs his face.

You laugh softly, eyes crinkling with joy. The two of them are so dramatic in their own ways… Sanji with his poetic French curses, and the kid with his over-the-top confidence.

But then the sky explodes into light.

You gasp and rush toward the railing, hands gripping the wood. Fireworks bloom above the hills, one after another, bursts of gold, red, green, and silver painting the night. Some twinkle, some crackle, some swirl in spiral shapes like dancing stars.

“Whoa…” you whisper, completely forgetting the chaos behind you.

Then, beside you, another small gasp. You glance down. It’s the kid.

His eyes are wide. His mouth slightly open in wonder “They’re… huge.”

“Is this your first time seeing fireworks?” you ask.

He nods slowly “Yeah. They’re… kinda magical.”

You smile, your face glowing with the same light reflecting in the sky “Right?”

Behind you, Sanji watches the two of you from a few steps back.

You’re both standing at the railing, heads tilted up, eyes full of wonder, soft smiles on your faces. The flower the kid gave you is tucked in your hair. The bear still in your arms. And somehow, in that one moment, you and the kid… look similar.

Same joy. Same spark. Same heart.

Sanji feels something shift in his chest. Not jealousy. Not annoyance. Something deeper. Warmer.

He pictures this moment again, but years in the future. You, at the railing, holding a small hand. Your child’s hand.

Their eyes lighting up like yours. That same smile. That same awe. And he’s there too, arms around both of you. His future, clear as the fireworks above.

You turn around and catch his gaze “Sanji?”

He blinks and smiles softly “Sorry. Just… thinking about how lucky I am.”

You raise an eyebrow “Because we won the bear?”

“No,” he says, stepping forward to join you at the railing “Because I get to watch you fall in love with everything.”

You rest your head on his shoulder again, your free hand finding his.

“With me?” The kid says.

“NO! DROP IT!” Sanji yells at him but then they both smile and keep watching the fireworks as they keep blooming. And Sanji is already planning forever.

The last firework bursts in a shower of silver and gold, lingering like a sparkler in the night sky. Then silence.

Soft cheers rise from the village below. The glow fades, lanterns flickering low. The magic of the moment hangs in the air for just a little longer, like it doesn’t want to end.

You sigh, still holding Sanji’s hand “That was perfect…”

Next to you, the kid is still staring at the sky. But the fireworks are gone now, long finished. Yet he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. His eyes are wide, his mouth just barely open. He looks like he’s still inside that wonder.

You smile at him “Hey… by the way… What’s your name?”

He blinks, like he’s waking up from a dream “Oh. It’s Tama.”

“Nice to meet you, Tama.” You kneel down a bit so you’re closer to his height “What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

Without hesitation “A pirate.”

You laugh softly “Really?”

He nods, proud “A brave one. With a big ship. I’ll visit all the islands with weird animals and floating rocks and treasure.”

Sanji smirks beside you, hands in his pockets “Then I guess we’ll keep being rivals even out at sea, huh?”

Tama gives him a sharp side-eye “I’ll have to steal y/n from you and out-pirate you.”

Sanji grins “Try me, mon petit.”

You giggle and ruffle Tama’s hair gently “Well, I hope we meet again when you’re out there chasing dreams.”

Tama glances up at you “What about you? What do you want to be?”

You pause. It’s not something you really think about. You look over at Sanji… messy blond hair, gentle smile, the way he’s still looking at you like the stars are in your eyes instead of the sky.

You shrug “I don’t care what I become. I just want to be with Sanji forever.”

Sanji freezes for a moment.

Then, he lets out a quiet breath, like someone just handed him the whole world.

His voice is soft “You’ll never have to wish for that, mon amour. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tama watches you both. He’s quiet. No more smug grins or snappy lines.

Then, slowly, he nods. He tucks his hands into his pockets and gives you a small smile, real and warm “Then it’s good the idiot is so persistent.”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Hey—”

Tama doesn’t look at him. He’s looking at you “You’re really happy. I can tell.” His voice is calm now, like something inside him understands something bigger “So… I’m okay with it.”

Your heart softens “Thank you, Tama.”

Then, without fully thinking, you smile even wider and say, “Sanji, I hope our future baby is going to be like him.”

Tama blinks, clearly unsure what to say to that. Maybe even a little embarrassed. But he nods slowly, lips pressing together in a shy smile.

Sanji stops breathing.

He stares at you, completely still, as if the fireworks just restarted behind his eyes. That sentence… so casual, so soft… hit harder than anything tonight. Our future baby...

You’re thinking about it. About a future. About family. And not just that. You’re thinking about it with him. His heart squeezes in his chest.

You’re here, in his arms. You’re in love. And you’re imagining a child with his smile and your eyes, running around somewhere under the same stars.

You turn and see the look in Sanji’s eyes.

He’s smiling, but there’s something deeper behind it. Something full. Something that says, I heard that.

You just smile back, knowing he doesn’t need to say a word.

Tama shrugs and turns around “Don’t get too comfy though. I’ll be cooler than him someday.”

Sanji puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close “We’ll be cheering for you… maybe.”

Tama waves over his shoulder, heading back toward the village, lantern light flickering around him.

You and Sanji stay a little longer at the lookout, arms wrapped around each other, the flower still in your hair, and the last warmth of the fireworks still in your hearts.

The festival is over. But something even better stayed behind with you…

Love. Peace. And the promise of forever.

── .✦ Law:

The sea is calm. The deck is quiet. You wipe your hands with a towel and step out of the infirmary for some air. A peaceful day. For once.

“GUYS! GUYS!! I’m back!!”

Bepo’s voice booms from the ramp. You glance over, blinking. Law appears from the hallway behind you, arms crossed and already frowning. Penguin and Shachi pop their heads out of the engine room.

“Why are you yelling?” Law asks, sharp.

“I got everything!” Bepo shouts, jogging up “But also—uh—”

He’s carrying something. No. Someone. It’s a kid.

A little girl, maybe five years old, wrapped in one of Bepo’s spare coats. Her hair’s messy, face pale. No shoes. She looks completely terrified.

Shachi stares “That’s a child.”

“Bepo,” Law growls “You didn’t…”

“I had to!” Bepo pleads “She was hiding behind crates in the market. All alone. People walked right past her. Like she wasn’t even there!”

“So you picked her up and brought her here?!” Law’s tone spikes.

“I couldn’t leave her! I asked around, but no one knew her. No one cared! She wouldn’t talk to anyone but me!”

The girl looks around fast… strangers, loud voices, sharp tones. She panics.

Her eyes lock on you, maybe because you’re the only woman here at the moment, maybe because you’re not yelling, and suddenly she jumps out of Bepo’s arms.

“Wait—!” Bepo yells.

Too late. She runs straight to you and throws her arms around your waist, hugging you like her life depends on it.

You freeze.

“Woah—hey, hey,” you say softly, instinct kicking in. You crouch down, hands gentle on her arms “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She buries her face in your chest and doesn’t say a word. Everyone is staring.

“Y/N,” Law says, voice low “Do you know her?”

You shake your head “Never seen her before.”

“Then why is she hugging you like that?” Penguin asks, confused.

You rub her back carefully “She’s scared. She saw someone safe. That’s all.”

Law narrows his eyes, crouching beside you.

“Kid,” he says quietly, “what’s your name?”

“…Mimi.” she whispers.

“How old are you, Mimi?”

She holds up five fingers without looking up.

“Do you know where your parents are?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you remember anything?”

She shrugs.

Law stands up “Fantastic.”

“I don’t get it,” Shachi says “Why would she run to Y/N? Just randomly?”

“She doesn’t know me,” you say, still holding Mimi gently “She was just scared.”

“She’s still shaking,” Bepo murmurs “I think she really was in danger.”

Law opens his mouth to reply, but footsteps thunder up from below deck.

“Ikkaku!” Penguin says as she appears, out of breath.

“Captain!” she gasps, holding up a tablet “Emergency Marine alert. I just picked it up from the city’s comms.”

“What kind of alert?” Law asks, tone serious.

She flips the screen around “They’re searching for a missing child. Classified level. No name. No photo. Just this—”

She swipes again. A blurry snail-cam image. It’s Mimi. Wearing that same coat.

“…Shit.” Law mutters.

Everyone stares at the screen.

“Why are the Marines looking for a five-year-old?” Shachi asks, stunned.

“Classified level? That’s not normal” Penguin adds.

Ikkaku reads off the report “Orders are to retrieve the child alive. No reason listed. But every local base is on alert. They think pirates might have taken her.”

Mimi stiffens. She presses closer to you.

“…Bad men,” she whispers “Mama said they’d come…”

“Mimi,” you say softly, “do you know who the bad men are?”

She shakes her head quickly “The marines… that I had to run. Mama said… find someone kind. Someone who felt safe.”

She looks up at you then. Big, frightened eyes.

You smile gently “You found me, don’t worry.”

Law steps beside you, staring down at the kid. His hand brushes yours.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, “She can’t stay on deck.”

You nod.

“She stays below, for now” Law says, turning to the crew “And no one talks about her. Not a word. We figure this out before the Marines come knocking.”

Bepo lets out a breath “Thank you, Captain.”

Law glances back at you and Mimi “Don’t thank me yet. This is trouble.”

“She’s just a kid,” you murmur, carrying her gently as you stand “We’ll protect her.”

Law’s voice softens “Yeah. We will.”

The door closes behind you both with a quiet click. The hallway outside Law’s quarters is silent now. You and Law stand inside the dimly lit room, away from the crew, away from Mimi.

He leans against the desk, arms folded, hat on the surface next to him. His jaw is tight. You’re pacing.

“She’s five, Law,” you say “Five. And terrified. You saw her face.”

“I know what I saw,” he replies, coldly calm “But she’s not just any kid, Y/N. She’s being hunted by the Marines. That’s not normal.”

“She didn’t ask to be hunted,” you shoot back “She didn’t choose any of this!”

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice rises slightly.

You stop pacing “Then why are you looking at her like she’s a problem?”

He straightens “Because right now? She is. She’s a risk. For all of us.”

You flinch.

“Oh, great,” you say, sarcasm slipping in “Glad to know your heart’s still functioning.”

His eyes narrow “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m not twisting anything! You’re acting like she’s a ticking time bomb!”

“I’m being realistic!” he snaps “You always do this—take in strays without thinking!”

You freeze. The words echo. You always do this.

Your chest tightens “Then is that what I am to you?” you whisper “Some stray you took in?”

Law’s expression shifts instantly “What? No—”

You shake your head, stepping back, voice low and bitter “Forget it. I’m done.”

He moves toward you “Y/N, wait—”

“No,” you say, turning for the door “You wanted to be realistic? Fine. Be alone with your logic. I’m going to be with the actual human being we rescued.”

You slam the door on your way out.

You sit cross-legged on the floor of the small guest room, paper and colored pencils spread out between you and Mimi. She holds a red pencil in her small hand, tongue poking out a little as she focuses hard on drawing something.

You force yourself to smile “That’s a very good cat, Mimi.”

“It’s you” she says, showing you proudly.

You laugh gently “Oh! I’m the cat?”

She nods “You were soft when I hugged you.”

You pause “That’s… really sweet, actually.”

She looks up at you “Are you mad?”

Your smile fades “Why would you think that?”

“You left fast. Like Mama did… when she was mad.”

Ouch.

You set your pencil down and reach out, tucking her hair behind her ear “I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“Then who?”

You sigh “Just… someone I love. We said some things we didn’t mean.”

She nods like she gets it “Mama and Papa did that too. Then they’d be quiet for a while. But after, they hugged a lot.”

You smile faintly “Maybe we’ll get there.”

Mimi turns back to her paper “Do you think my Mama’s okay?”

Your heart aches “I hope so, Mimi. I really do.”

You pick up a blue pencil and draw beside her in silence for a while. The sound of coloring fills the small room. For a little while, it’s peaceful again.

Even if your chest still burns with anger and something else you don’t want to admit yet. Not hurt. Just… disappointed.

The hallway outside the guest room is quiet now.

Right now, it’s just you and Mimi, surrounded by colored pencils and messy drawings. She laughs when your stick figure ends up with five arms. You giggle along, your mood slowly softening.

“Look!” she says proudly, holding up her latest masterpiece. It’s her, you, and what might be Bepo if you squint. You’ve all got huge smiles and stars around your heads.

“That’s amazing,” you say, genuinely impressed “Did you make me taller than Bepo?”

She nods “Because you’re strong.”

Your heart actually hurts a little at that “You’re the strong one, Mimi.”

She looks up at you, eyes wide and happy. It’s the first time she’s looked this light since she came aboard. Something warm blooms in your chest. You don’t say it aloud, but this feels… right.

She deserves moments like this. You both do.

There’s a soft knock at the doorframe. You turn and Law stands there. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just… watches.

You see his eyes flick to Mimi, then back to you. The scene freezes him. Like he’s seeing something he wasn’t ready for. Like he’s seeing you with a child in your lap, laughing, gentle, bright. Like family.

You look away first. Mimi doesn’t notice. She’s too busy coloring in the sky purple.

Law jerks his head toward the hallway, silently asking for a word. You hesitate.

Then slowly stand up, brushing your hands off “I’ll be right back, okay?” you whisper to Mimi.

“Okay.” she says without looking up.

You follow Law out into the hall. The door closes behind you, soft and careful. He runs a hand through his hair. He looks… tired. And guilty.

“I deserved everything you said earlier” he starts.

You don’t speak yet.

“I was angry. Not at you. At the situation. At how helpless it made me feel. It reminds me a lot of when… nevermind.”

Still, you wait.

“I wanted to do something. So I called in favors. Checked restricted comms. Dug deep.”

You lift your eyes to meet his “And?”

“I found out who her mother was,” he says “They were living on the outskirts of a Marine-controlled zone. Poor. Invisible. Perfect targets.”

Your throat tightens.

“She died,” Law continues “A week ago. Protecting Mimi. Marines were already closing in. Her mother fought back alone. Got her daughter away. Then…”

He trails off.

You stare “…Mimi saw that happen?”

He nods “But I think she doesn’t remember it. Or won’t. Trauma like that… it can block memories completely. Especially in kids.”

Your back presses to the wall “She… thinks her mom is still out there.”

“I know,” he says quietly “I was hoping she was. I wanted to go find her. Bring her here. Give Mimi the ending she deserved.”

You press your hands to your face “God…”

Law steps closer “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

You lower your hands slowly, voice shaking “You thought I’d fall apart?”

“No,” he says “I thought I would.”

That makes you look at him.

“I saw you with her just now,” he says “And I thought… maybe we could give her something close to a family. Not perfect. Not planned. But something.”

Silence hangs heavy for a second.

“I’m sorry,” he says again “For the fight. For what I said.”

You nod slowly “I was mad. But I never stopped trusting you.”

He reaches for your hand. You let him take it.

“She’s all alone now” you whisper.

“Not if we stay” he says.

You squeeze his fingers “I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s been three months since Mimi came aboard. She doesn’t cry at night anymore. She doesn’t flinch when someone raises their voice.

She laughs. Loudly. She steals snacks with Penguin, watches Shachi build models, draws on Bepo’s fur while he naps, and sometimes, when she’s really sleepy, she crawls into your bed without saying a word and snuggles between you and Law.

You and Law never talk about it, and neither does the crew, but everyone sees the way Mimi holds your hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world. The way Law makes sure she eats, takes her medicine, wears a coat when it’s cold, even when he grumbles about it. The way her drawings now always have three people in them.

You, her, and Law.

She knows the truth now. She remembers it all… her mother, the chase, the moment she lost her, the fear. It came back slowly, in pieces, but she never fell apart.

She held on. To you. To him. And now it’s time.

You found a safe place for her, a quiet island far from Marine eyes. A good family who knew her mother once, who wants to care for Mimi like their own. A home with books, and warm food, and other children. It’s the best chance she’ll ever get.

She knows it. She understands.

But even understanding doesn’t make it easy.

On the third-to-last day, you find Mimi sitting with Bepo in the garden space at the top of the sub. She’s holding her sketchbook.

“Hey,” you say gently, sitting down beside her “Can I see what you’re drawing?”

She turns the book around. It’s you and Law again… only this time, she’s drawn herself in the middle, holding both your hands. Above you is a sun with a smiling face.

Your chest aches.

“I like when we’re together.” she says, matter-of-fact.

“I do too.”

She leans against your arm “You’re not mad, right? That I said yes to going?”

You pause “Never. Mimi, we want you to be safe. That’s what matters most.”

She goes quiet for a second “But I’ll still miss you. A lot.”

You stroke her hair softly “I’ll miss you too. Every day.”

She looks up “Do you think Captain Law will miss me?”

You smile “I know he will.”

That night, Law finds you alone in the infirmary, pretending to organize the medical supplies. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed.

“You’re avoiding me” he says.

“No I’m not” you lie instantly.

“Y/N.”

You sigh and sit down on the cot “I just… don’t know how to say goodbye.”

He walks in, quiet, and sits beside you “You don’t have to.”

You glance at him.

“We’ll find a way to see her again,” he says “Even if it’s just from a distance. I promise.”

Your eyes sting “She’s the best thing that ever happened to this ship.”

He nods “She’s one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

You look at him, surprised.

“I didn’t think I could… do this,” he says “Feel like this. But she made me believe in something again. She made me remember if Corazon and even understand him more now.”

You reach out and take his hand “She made us a family, didn’t she?”

Law squeezes your hand gently.

“And we’ll let her go,” he says “Because that’s what family does. We protect them. Even when it hurts.”

The crew stands in a quiet line on the deck.

Bepo is the first to kneel down, huge paws gentle as he hugs Mimi tightly.

“Don’t forget me” he says, voice shaking.

“I could never.” she whispers, burying her face in his fur.

Penguin gives her a pack of candy and awkwardly pats her head “Eat this when you miss us, okay?”

Shachi kneels next “We’ll miss you, shrimp. Stay awesome.”

Ikkaku lifts Mimi’s little hand and presses a friendship bracelet into her palm “For luck” she says, smiling even though her eyes are red.

Everyone says their goodbyes. Everyone hugs her.

You stand back, next to Law, holding your breath. Watching. Trying to stay calm. But your chest feels tight. Your hands shake and Law, quiet and steady beside you, notices. He doesn’t say anything. He just reaches out and takes your hand in his. Warm, grounding. Solid.

You glance down, surprised. He never does this in front of the crew. Your fingers curl around his slowly. It helps. You’re grateful.

Mimi turns at last and walks up to you both. Her steps are slower now. Her smile is gone. And when she reaches you, she breaks.

Her small arms wrap around your waist so hard it knocks the air out of you “I don’t wanna go.” she sobs.

You drop to your knees and hold her, tears falling fast “I know, baby. I know.”

“I wanna stay with you. And Law. And Bepo and everyone. I don’t want a new house.”

“I know. But this is the safest place. It’s what your mama wanted. And we’ll still love you. Always.”

She shakes her head, crying harder. You don’t want to let go. You really, really don’t. And Law… he just stands there, quiet, one hand resting gently on your back as you cry into Mimi’s hair.

He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s there. Holding you up in the way he always does.

When you finally pull away, your eyes meet his and he gives you the smallest nod. You nod back.

It’s time. Mimi turns to him slowly.

She throws her arms around his legs without a word. Law stiffens.

Then, very awkwardly, he kneels and hugs her back. His movements are a little stiff, unsure, but he doesn’t let go too quickly.

“I’m gonna miss you, Captain Law” she mumbles.

“…I’ll miss you too.” he says, voice low.

You blink. You’ve never heard him say that out loud.

When she lets go, her eyes are red and puffy, but she wipes them on her sleeve like a little soldier. Then she walks with the woman who came to get her, toward the small transport boat.

But just before she steps down the ramp, she stops, turns around, wipes her face and yells, loud as ever “HEY!”

Everyone jumps.

“If you ever give me a little brother or sister,” she says proudly, “I better get to meet them! I’ll be the best big sister in the world!”

Dead silence. Your jaw drops. Law’s eyes widen just slightly.

The crew turns to look at you both and absolutely loses it.

Penguin snorts. Shachi wheezes. Ikkaku starts clapping. Even Bepo chuckles behind a paw.

You and Law look in opposite directions at the same time, completely red-faced, avoiding each other’s eyes like it’s life or death.

“I… what…” you stammer.

“I didn’t…” Law mutters.

Mimi waves from the ramp, beaming “BYEEEE!”

And with that… she’s gone. Leaving behind stunned silence, a warm sea breeze and a very awkward question neither of you has ever asked before.

The door to Law’s studio closes behind you with a soft click. The sound of laughter still echoes faintly down the hall as the crew keeps joking about Mimi’s parting gift.

You and Law don’t say a word.

You wave a hand dismissively toward the corridor like go away, and Law rubs his forehead in quiet frustration as you both walk deeper into the room.

You drop onto the old sofa with a dramatic sigh. Your legs flop over the side “That kid really knows how to drop a bomb” you mumble into a pillow.

Law says nothing. He just walks toward his desk and sits down heavily, glancing at a stack of papers that definitely aren’t important right now.

“…So…” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, still hiding in the couch.

He clears his throat “Have you ever… uh. Thought about… you know.”

You peek at him “About what.”

He doesn’t look at you “A kid. Of your own.”

You squint “Why are you talking like that? You sound like Bepo when he ate spoiled mochi.”

He shoots you a look and you laugh, then immediately groan and hide your face in your hands.

“Oh god, I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this.”

“You didn’t answer” he says.

You peek through your fingers at him “Did you think about it before?”

He shrugs one shoulder “No. Not seriously.”

He stands up and walks over. He kneels in front of you and gently pulls your hands away from your face, exposing your cheeks and all the heat blooming in them.

His voice is soft “But now… I don’t hate the idea.”

Your heart skips. Your mouth opens and for once, no teasing comes out. Just a quiet little truth.

“…Same,” you say “If it’s with you.”

His ears go red. He clears his throat again, standing up abruptly like you just slapped him with a compliment.

“Don’t say stuff like that so easily” he mutters.

You laugh, covering your own red cheeks again “You started it!”

He turns back to his desk, muttering something under his breath.

You’re not sure what he’s thinking. But his shoulders relax a little while his hand lingers on the edge of his chair, like maybe he’s imagining what another little voice in this room might sound like someday.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sun is warm on your shoulders. The smell of grilled fish, sea salt, and cheap beer fills the open-air restaurant. You’re sitting beside Shanks, your legs draped over his lap, one arm around his broad shoulders. He’s laughing loud, one hand resting on your thigh, a bottle in the other.

The Red-Haired Pirates are noisy,talking with full mouths, yelling jokes across the table, getting into friendly fights over who gets the last crab claw.

You’re smiling, head leaning against Shanks’ shoulder, completely relaxed. Then you notice a woman, maybe in her twenties, carrying a small kid, probably two or three years old, on her hip. She’s standing near the entrance, eyes scanning the place fast, like she’s searching for someone. Her brows are drawn tight, lips pressed together.

“Shanks…” you murmur, nudging him with your elbow.

He follows your gaze.

She spots you. Her eyes go wide with something like hope. She walks fast toward your table, clutching the child tighter, muttering “excuse me” as she passes the crew. The little one, a girl, blinks up at everyone with big sleepy eyes. She stops right in front of you.

“Hi,” she says, out of breath “I—Sorry to bother you. I know who you are. You’re Shanks’ crew, right?”

You blink “Uh, yeah. That’s us.”

The woman shifts her weight, bouncing the kid gently “I know this is weird. Really weird. But I—I need help.”

Shanks straightens a little beside you. His arm slides behind your back but he stays quiet, letting you speak first.

“What kind of help?” you ask slowly, looking from the kid to her.

“My babysitter canceled last minute. I’m already late for work—I’ll lose my job if I don’t show up. It’s only for a few hours. Please,” she pleads “I don’t know anyone on this island, and you… well, I’ve seen you in the papers. You’re not bad people.”

You open your mouth to answer, then close it.

The little girl is chewing on her own shirt, blinking at you with big brown eyes. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair’s tied up in a tiny puff.

You glance at Shanks. He’s watching you with that gentle smile of his. His eyes are soft. He doesn’t say anything, he just squeezes your hip lightly, like he’s telling you, Your choice.

“I don’t know anything about kids.” you say, voice low, nervous.

“You’ll be fine,” the woman says quickly “She’s easy. Doesn’t cry much. Her name’s Emi.”

The little girl makes a tiny sound, like she’s trying to say something but decides against it.

You look at Shanks again. He smiles wider.

“I’ll help you,” you say finally, sighing “Only for a few hours.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.” the woman breathes. She kisses the kid’s forehead and whispers something into her ear. Then she hands her over to you.

The moment Emi’s in your arms, she goes still. Warm and small. A little heavy. She smells like soap and bananas.

The woman gives you her name, a quick “I’ll be back before sunset.” and then she’s gone.

You sit there frozen. Shanks looks down at Emi in your lap. Then back up at you.

“You look terrified.” he says, chuckling.

“I am terrified.” you whisper.

“Want me to hold her?”

You shake your head slowly “No… I think I got this.”

Then Emi sneezes on your chest.

“Okay,” you groan “Maybe not.”

Shanks is already laughing.

At first, Emi just… sits there. On your lap. Quiet, blinking, nose still a little runny. She doesn’t cry. Doesn’t move much either. Just holds a tiny stuffed rabbit in one hand and sucks her thumb with the other.

You’re stiff as a mast. Shanks drapes his arm around your shoulders, whispering in your ear, “You’re holding her like she’s a bomb.”

“I’ve held swords with more confidence...” you mutter back.

He laughs, soft and deep, and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear “Try putting her on the bench next to you. Let her get used to everyone.”

You do. Emi shifts to sit beside you, rabbit clutched to her chest. She peeks around the table. The crew watches her like she’s a sea monster that just learned to smile.

“Hi, Emi!” Lucky Roux waves with a toothy grin “Wanna try some pineapple?”

She buries her face in your side.

Yasopp chuckles “You sure she’s not scared of you, Y/N?”

“She should be.” you say dryly.

But over time, it changes. Slowly. Emi starts pointing at things on the table. A shrimp. A spoon. A shiny gold coin someone dropped. You tell her the names. You offer her a piece of soft bread, and she takes it with two hands like it’s a treasure.

An hour later, you’re wiping jam off her chin with a napkin and helping her clap to Benn’s bad humming of a lullaby tune. She giggles when you make a fish face at her. You giggle back. And Shanks is quiet. He watches.

Not in a smug or teasing way. He’s not smirking. He’s not laughing with the others when Yasopp says, “Look at this! Y/N’s got the mom vibe going strong!”

He just… looks.

You glance at him and find his jaw a little tight. His drink untouched. His gaze heavy on you and the child. Like he’s thinking hard about something he doesn’t want to say out loud.

“Captain?” you ask softly.

He blinks, like he’s been pulled out of somewhere far away “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

He nods. Too fast.

Roux leans over with a grin “Hey, Shanks. You gonna put a ring on it if she starts popping out mini Shank’s?”

Everyone laughs.

You feel your face heat up, heart thudding a little “Oh my God—can you all shut up?”

“I want to marry her.” Shanks says suddenly.

Silence. Everyone stares.

You slowly turn to him “What?”

He meets your eyes. His voice is even, but his expression is… different. Calm on the surface, but his eyes are darker than usual “If she wanted that too. Yeah.”

You feel Emi rest her head on your arm, yawning, rabbit smushed between her face and your side.

You’re not sure what to say. The crew fumbles between teasing and trying not to look too shocked.

Shanks finally looks away, picking up his drink again.

Benn watches him for a long second. Then quietly says, “Alright, alright. Let’s not scare the kid, huh?”

And just like that, the noise starts up again. Jokes. Laughter. Loud plates. Big bites.

But Shanks doesn’t joke anymore, and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking at you like there’s something he’s not saying. Something that makes your heart beat a little faster.

Then everything fall falls apart when Emi gets bored.

One minute she’s snuggled against you, soft and sleepy, her rabbit tucked under her chin. The next she’s on her feet, running full speed down the middle of the open-air tavern, arms flapping like wings.

“EMI!” you shout, scrambling to follow her.

Your drink spills. A spoon clatters to the ground. Shanks laughs under his breath and gets up with you, already moving.

She darts under a table where two drunk fishermen are playing cards, crawls past their feet like some kind of tiny demon, and pops up between a tray of grilled squid and a candle.

“I got her!” Yasopp calls out, lunging, but Emi ducks and keeps running, laughing wildly now, barefoot and fast.

“She’s gone feral!” Lucky Roux howls.

“Shanks!” you bark, spinning around helplessly “Stop laughing and HELP!”

He grins, but there’s warmth in his eyes as he moves quickly, circling the tables “Aye aye, sweetheart.”

You try one side, he takes the other.

“Emi,” he says, crouching low, voice gentle, like he’s speaking to a scared animal “Hey, baby girl. Wanna play a game? It’s called Freeze. Can you freeze?”

She stops. Looks at him. Wobbles on her feet.

You sneak up behind.

“Gotcha!” you grab her mid-spin, lifting her up like a sack of potatoes.

She laughs and squeals, legs kicking.

“She’s a slippery one.” you mutter, holding her close, out of breath.

“I like her spirit,” Shanks says, grinning as he brushes a strand of hair from your face “She reminds me of you.”

You squint at him “You’re not funny.”

The crew starts clapping. Yasopp whistles. Roux raises his mug “Now that’s a team, huh? Look at them. Mom and Dad of the year.”

“Oh, please—” you start, but Shanks just reaches for Emi’s little hand and gives it a squeeze.

“Teamwork, right?” he says softly to her.

She nods. Then sneezes again. Right into his chest.

You burst out laughing this time and say “That’s karma.”

He wipes it off with a napkin like it’s nothing.

You sit back down together, Emi now curled in your lap again, finally tired. Shanks stays close. Not just beside you but with you. Helping. Watching. Smiling softly when Emi dozes off. But he’s still quiet. More quiet than usual.

Your eyes keep drifting to him. The way he’s looking at the girl. The little frown he doesn’t even know he has. The way his hand rests on her back like he’s done it a hundred times before.

He used to be like this with Uta. And Luffy, too. Soft. Present. Gentle.

You haven’t seen that part of him in a long time. You missed it.

“You okay?” you ask under your breath, while the crew starts arguing over dessert.

He doesn’t answer right away.

Then finally, “Yeah.”

You stare at him a little longer “Are you lying to me?”

He smiles, but it’s not the usual cocky grin. It’s smaller. Tired.

“I’m not sure what I’m feeling,” he admits “Just… thinking, I guess.”

You squeeze his hand “About what?”

He shrugs, looking down at Emi “About a lot of things.”

And now you are quiet, because something in your chest shifts. Soft. Strange. Familiar.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like you’ve already given him something he thought he’d never have again. Or maybe it’s the way it suddenly feels… real.

You. Him. And this small, chaotic moment that makes everything else disappear.

The sun starts to dip, painting the sky in gold and peach.

You’re still at the tavern, Emi snoring softly on your shoulder, her little fingers tangled in your hair. Shanks sits beside you, quiet. His arm rests behind you, not touching, just there.

And then she returns. The woman bursts through the crowd, her apron flying, face flushed with panic. The moment she sees you, she stops, hands over her heart like she might collapse.

“Oh my god—thank you. Thank you so much,” she breathes, almost crying as she rushes to you “I’m so sorry I took so long. I owe you my life.”

You wave a hand gently “It’s okay. Really. She was good. A little fast—like, sprint-across-the-rooftops fast—but… I had fun.”

Emi stirs and opens her eyes.

“Hi, baby.” the mother coos, arms outstretched. The little girl shifts toward her sleepily, and you pass her over with care. For a second, Emi resists, her hand still reaching for your shirt.

Your heart squeezes a little.

“Thank you again,” the woman says, eyes filled with real gratitude “If you’re ever on this island again, please come find us. I mean it.”

You smile, brushing some crumbs off your lap “Of course. Be safe.”

You watch them go, mother holding daughter close, disappearing into the market crowd. And then it’s just… quiet. Too quiet.

The crew starts packing up, joking softly, but there’s a change in the air. A stillness you don’t like. You look at Shanks.

He’s already looking at you.

Not grinning. Not teasing.

Just watching you with that faraway softness in his eyes, like you’re a slow dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. Like maybe, for a second, he saw something more than just this moment.

You reach for his hand and lace your fingers through his.

He squeezes back but doesn’t say anything.

The walk to the ship is slow. The crew’s laughing again, arguing about who drank the most, but it’s like the volume’s been turned down. You and Shanks trail behind.

Still no words. Not one.

That night, the sea’s calm. The stars are out. You’re both in your cabin, door closed, boots off.

You lie on your shared bed, watching him stand at the window, shirt half unbuttoned, red hair catching the moonlight, and you’ve had enough. You sit up.

“Alright, Red,” you say, crossing your arms “What’s going on in that dumb, beautiful head of yours?”

He looks over his shoulder, startled “What?”

“You’ve been quiet ever since Emi left. You’ve said maybe ten words total. And I know you. That means you’re thinking. Hard.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck “Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Nope.” You crawl across the bed toward him, poke his side “Try again.”

He sighs “It’s… complicated.”

“So is your face, and I still look at it every day. Try me.”

That gets a small laugh out of him.

You press your forehead to his back “You don’t have to hold things in with me, Shanks. Not the serious stuff. Not the scary stuff. Especially not the stuff that makes your eyes look like that.”

He turns slowly, leaning against the window. You slide your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arms around you too, finally. Breathing in.

“Seeing you with her,” he says softly “With Emi.”

You wait.

“I kept thinking about Uta. About Luffy. About how fast it all went. How I blinked and they weren’t mine to hold anymore.”

You don’t speak. Just hold him tighter.

“And then… I saw you. Just being there. Caring for this tiny stranger like it was nothing. Laughing with her. Holding her. And something in me just… ached.”

You tilt your head up “Ached how?”

He looks down at you, eyes serious now “Like I wanted that with you. And I didn’t even know how much until I saw it.”

The words settle deep inside you.

“You’d be a good father.” you whisper.

“You’d be the best mother.” he says back instantly.

Silence again, but this time it’s full. Of possibilities. Of truths unsaid until now.

“I didn’t say anything,” Shanks adds, brushing a hand through your hair, “because I don’t want you to think I expect that from you. Or that I’m pushing it. I just… couldn’t stop seeing it.”

You lean in and kiss him slow. No rush. No pressure. Just soft and sure.

When you pull away, your voice is warm and quiet “Then keep seeing it. I don’t mind.”

You kiss him. Long, soft, deep.

The kind of kiss that says more than either of you can find the words for. His hands settle on your waist, grounding you, holding you like you might drift away if he lets go. And when you finally break apart, you stay close. Forehead to forehead. Breathing the same air.

Now it’s your turn. You exhale shakily “I always saw you with Uta. And Luffy. The way you held them, talked to them, made them laugh… the way they looked at you.”

Shanks closes his eyes, lips pressed together.

“I used to watch from the deck,” you continue softly, “and I’d think… that. I want that with him. Our own little chaos. Our own quiet moments. Our own family.”

His grip on you tightens just a little. His thumb strokes your hip, slowly.

“I never said anything,” you admit, voice quieter now “Because I thought… maybe you already had your turn. Maybe being a dad again wasn’t something you wanted. Like, maybe Uta and even Luffy were your ‘once in a lifetime’. And I didn’t want to be selfish.”

Shanks pulls back just enough to look at you fully, eyes wide, voice rough “Selfish? Y/N… You have no idea how wrong you are.”

You blink.

He cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek “If anything, I was scared you didn’t want that. I never wanted to put that weight on you. My name. My crew. My life.”

You both laugh a little, soft and breathless. And then he says it “I’d love to see a little you run around the ship.”

Your heart does a full spin in your chest. You both collapse back onto the bed, side by side, hands tangled together, staring at the ceiling like it holds the future in its stars.

“I think she’d be loud.” you say, smiling to yourself.

“She?” Shanks grins “You’re already picking sides?”

“I just know. She’d talk back to Benn by the time she could crawl.”

“She’d steal Yasopp’s sake and blame it on Lucky Roux.”

“She’d steal your cape and wear it like a dress.”

“She’d make the whole crew bow to her by age four.”

You laugh. He laughs too. Your fingers tighten around his.

“She’d be soft like you,” he adds suddenly, voice lower now “Kind. But dangerous.”

You glance over at him “She’d be brave like you. Wild, loyal, always smiling.”

He sighs, almost dreamily “I can already hear her little feet running on the deck.”

“And your big voice yelling ‘don’t climb the cannon!’”

You both break into giggles and then silence again, but this time, it’s wrapped in warmth, in hope.

Shanks turns his head to look at you. You’re already looking at him.

“I mean…” he says slowly, raising one eyebrow, “we could start working on that little Y/N… like… right now.”

You gasp “Shanks!”

He smirks wickedly “What? I’m just saying. We’re both here. The ship’s quiet. The moon looks nice. You’re cute. I’m cute. It’s called destiny.”

You snort “You’re impossible—ah!”

He attacks, fingers darting to your sides, tickling, making you laugh and squirm under him.

“Shanks! Stop!”

“Never!” he grins, pinning you lightly with his weight “You’re stuck now. You told me your secrets. I told you mine. That makes us legally married in pirate law.”

You laugh until your cheeks hurt. You wiggle, but he’s strong, gentle, always careful. And then you stop moving. So does he.

Your eyes meet again. Closer now. Breath mingling.

That softness returns. Like a wave pulling you under, not scary. Just deep. Full of something quiet and forever.

You reach up and brush his hair behind his ear.

He leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you whisper “I love you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your palm “And I love you more than I thought I even could.”

His mouth finds yours again, slower this time. No rush.

The kind of kiss that makes the world outside the cabin disappear and maybe, tonight is the beginning of something new.

── .✦ Ace:

The sun is warm, the breeze is salty, and Ace is doing what he always does when he’s not fighting or eating: walking too close to you with that lazy grin on his face.

“You sure you don’t wanna race?” he asks “You lose, you buy lunch.”

You raise an eyebrow “You’ll cheat with your fire.”

“Not true.” He places a hand on his chest, all dramatic “I only cheat if I’m losing.”

You snort “So always.”

He gasps “Betrayal.”

The two of you walk down the main road of a small island town. It’s quiet, peaceful, one of those places that doesn’t care much for bounties or pirate crews. People nod, wave, smile. Ace stretches, yawns, and puts his arm lazily around your shoulder.

“Maybe we should stay here a few days,” he says “Nice change from all the running.”

Before you can answer, a small voice says “Is that Fire Fist Ace?!”

You both turn. Two kids stand by a fruit stall, one boy, maybe six, and an older girl, probably nine. The boy’s eyes are wide. The girl looks like she’s not impressed yet.

Ace grins “Yeah, that’s me.”

The boy lights up “No way! My dad told me you can burn down a whole ship in one punch!”

Ace shrugs, clearly proud “Depends on the ship.”

The girl, however, is staring at you.

Her eyes narrow “You’re her, aren’t you?”

You blink “…Her?”

She steps closer, pointing at your waist “You’re the swordwoman who beat that Navy officer in Loguetown. The one who fights with two blades and never loses.”

You look down at her, surprised. She’s serious. Ace whistles.

“Wow,” he says “I didn’t know I was walking around with a legend.”

You nudge him “Shut up.”

The girl keeps going “They say you cut a cannonball in half.”

You sigh “It was already cracked.”

Still, her eyes sparkle. The boy joins in, bouncing excitedly.

“She’s so cool! Are you really pirates?!”

“Guilty,” Ace says, holding up his hands “But friendly pirates.”

“You don’t look friendly...” the girl says.

Ace grins “Good. That’s the point.”

Then the boy tugs at your sleeve “Can I see your sword?”

You crouch to his level “They’re sharp. Not safe for kids.”

He frowns “I won’t touch it. Promise!”

You glance at Ace, who’s watching you closely, smiling like he’s waiting for something. You sigh and slowly pull one of your swords just a little from the sheath, just enough to show the edge. Both kids gasp like it’s treasure.

“Can you teach us how to fight?” the girl asks suddenly.

You blink “You’re nine.”

“So? You were probably younger when you started.”

Ace chuckles “She was.”

You give him a side-eye “Stop helping.”

The little girl folds her arms “You could just show us something. Like a move. Just one.”

You sigh again but you’re smiling now “You’re very stubborn.”

She shrugs “You have to be, if you wanna be strong.”

Ace leans against a wooden post, arms crossed, amused “Sounds familiar.”

You glance at him “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean… yeah.” He grins “It’s the first time someone’s asking you for autographs instead of me. I’m letting it sink in.”

The boy tugs your coat again “Please? One move?”

You finally stand, looking at the open space near the dock “Fine. But just one. Then you leave us alone and go home, got it?”

The kids cheer and run to the clearing.

Ace follows, whistling “You’re gonna start a sword school at this rate.”

You roll your shoulders, then pull your blade halfway out, just enough to flash the steel. You drop into a stance, slow and firm. The kids go quiet. Then, with a sharp breath, you move. One swift, elegant slash through the air, so fast the wind shifts. The tip of your sword stops just above the ground, and your coat flutters around you.

The boy’s mouth hangs open. The girl’s eyes are huge.

Ace whistles “Show-off.”

You sheathe the sword in one clean motion.

The girl points “That was awesome! Can you do it again?”

“No,” you say, but you’re laughing now.

The boy runs over and hugs your leg suddenly “You’re my favorite pirate now!”

You blink, surprised. You pat his head awkwardly “Uh. Thanks?”

Ace watches you, your hand gently resting on the boy’s head, your stance still grounded, strong but soft. You’re not trying to impress anyone. You just exist like this. Capable. Calm. Kind. Something shifts in his chest.

You look up at him “What?”

He shrugs “Nothing. Just… didn’t know you were this good with kids.”

“I’m not,” you say “They’re just clingy.”

The girl now grabs your wrist “Can I hold your sword?”

“No.”

“Can I touch it?”

“No.”

“Can you teach me how to fight like that?”

“No—”

Ace walks over, laughing “C’mon, sweetheart. Be nice.”

You glare at him “You help, then.”

He lifts his hands “Nope. I’m just the fire guy. You’re the star today.”

The boy turns to Ace “Do you two live together?”

You and Ace exchange a look.

He grins “Something like that.”

The girl squints “Are you married?”

You cough “No.”

“Are you gonna be?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Ace just laughs and says, “Wanna help me convince her?”

“YES!” the kids shout in unison.

You groan and walk away “I regret everything.”

Ace follows, hands in his pockets, that lazy smile still on his face, but his eyes stay soft. He watches you gently shoo the kids away, then thank the fruit vendor with a quiet bow. And in that moment, he knows. Clear as day.

“She’s not just strong. She’s not just mine. She’d be the best damn mom the world’s ever seen.”

He doesn’t say it out loud. Not yet. But he’s thinking it. Hard.

You and Ace are sitting under a tree near the edge of the village, sharing a bag of sliced fruit.

“You think they’re gone?” you ask, biting into a juicy piece.

Ace shrugs “Maybe. Or maybe they’re forming a fan club.”

You nudge his leg with your boot “I don’t need a fan club.”

He gives you a lazy grin “No, but you deserve one.”

You roll your eyes, but your ears go a little pink.

Then, a small voice calls from down the road “WE’RE BACK!!”

You groan “No.”

Ace grins “Yes.”

The two kids come running, the boy nearly trips over his own feet and stop in front of you, proudly holding up folded paper sheets.

“Look!!” the girl says, unfolding one “We drew you!”

You blink “…You what?”

They hand you the papers. The drawings are messy, full of wild colors, but so full of heart. One is of you holding two swords, a big smile on your face. Another shows you and Ace together, tiny figures with stars around you. A third shows you with a little kid, sword in hand, standing tall.

You pause at that one. Ace leans over your shoulder to peek. His voice is softer now “Is that supposed to be your kid?”

The girl nods proudly “Yup! We made a story about you! You’re a pirate mom who protects her ship and teaches her kid how to be strong.”

You stare at the page, silent. The boy holds out a few crayons “You can draw too, if you want!”

Before you can say no, he’s already sitting down, opening another paper. The girl joins him. They look up at you, smiling.

“C’mon,” she says “We wanna make a whole crew!”

You glance at Ace. He shrugs, trying to act casual “Up to you.”

You sigh and sit down cross-legged in the grass “Alright. But I’m drawing the captain.”

“That’s YOU!” the boy says.

You raise an eyebrow “I meant me.”

They laugh.

You start sketching. Nothing fancy just simple shapes. You draw yourself with a pirate hat, a tiny sword tucked in your belt. The kids start adding characters around you: themselves, animals, someone with a frying pan who’s probably Ace.

You’re focused, smiling to yourself as you add waves and stars and a sun.

Ace just watches you from where he stands, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. There’s a heat in his chest now that has nothing to do with his powers. It burns deeper. It’s watching your hand gently guide the boy’s when he can’t get the lines straight. It’s hearing you ask, “Want me to draw your pirate flag too?” in that soft, patient voice.

It’s the way you look down at the page like you’re already imagining a future.

“This shouldn’t make me want her more,” he thinks, frustrated “But it does. She’s drawing little pirate stories with them on the grass. She’d be the kind of mom who makes the world feel safe.”

He swallows hard and looks away for a second, like it’ll calm him down... It doesn’t.

You finish your little drawing with a final scribble of wind in the sails.

“There,” you say, holding it up “Captain, crew, and treasure.”

The boy claps “It’s perfect!”

The girl leans over to look “Yours is way cooler than mine.”

“Nah,” you say, nudging her arm “You’ve got better colors.”

They beam like you just handed them gold.

Ace is still standing nearby, arms crossed, pretending to be relaxed, but his jaw is tight.

You glance up at him “You okay?”

“Me? Yeah.” His voice comes out rougher than he means it to. He clears his throat “Just… warm.”

The boy tugs at your sleeve again.

“Hey,” he says, eyes wide with curiosity “Do you have kids?”

You blink. Ace freezes.

The girl adds quickly, “You’d be a really cool mom.”

There’s a beat of silence. Just the wind and the scratching of a crayon. You sit back slowly and shake your head “No. I don’t.”

The boy frowns “Why not?”

You laugh softly “Because I’m still busy being a pirate.”

“But you could be both,” the girl says, very seriously “Like in the drawing.”

You smile at that “Maybe someday.”

Your voice is calm. Light. Like you’re just answering any question. But Ace… Ace is not calm. He watches your face as you say those words “Maybe someday” and his heart lurches. Because now it’s real. Not just a fantasy in his head. Not just a warm thought. You’ve imagined it too now.

He doesn’t say anything. He just walks over slowly and sits down behind you, arms resting over your shoulders as you lean back against his chest.

“You’d be amazing at it.” he murmurs, low so the kids can’t hear.

You glance up “At what?”

He looks down at you, eyes soft and a little wild at the edges, like something’s breaking open inside him “At being a mom. I mean it.”

You pause. Then, quietly, you ask, “You think about that?”

He nods “More than I expected to. More than I ever thought I would.”

The kids are still doodling, totally unaware. You say nothing, but your hand reaches up and rests gently over his. That’s all he needs.

The kids eventually stand up, arms full of drawings and unfinished paper pirate maps.

“We’re gonna go show these to our grandpa!” the girl says.

The boy nods “Thanks for drawing with us!”

You wave, still sitting in the grass “Stay out of trouble.”

The boy grins “Bye, pirate mom!”

You blink “I’m not—”

But they’re already gone.

Ace snorts behind you “Pirate mom, huh?”

You roll your eyes and lean back into him again “Don’t start.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder “Too late. You’ve got the role down already. You give good advice, threaten people just enough, and draw cool flags. What more could a kid want?”

You hum “A dad who doesn’t set the house on fire?”

He grins “I’d try to keep it contained.”

You laugh, light and warm “You’d accidentally roast our laundry.”

“Okay, yeah, but I’d teach them how to blow stuff up responsibly.”

You fake-think “Hmm. Dangerous. But useful.”

He smiles, but then falls quiet. You feel the shift instantly. His arms wrap tighter around your middle.

“You were really sweet with them.” he says softly.

You shrug “They were cute.”

“You were cuter.”

You snort “Gross.”

“No, seriously,” he murmurs “I was watching you and thinking… like, really thinking—”

He breaks off, then tries again “That I wanna see you like that again. With… our own.”

You smirk “You mean with a mini version of me bossing you around?”

He groans “Oh god. A tiny you would be terrifying.”

“Admit it. You’d love it.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“I would,” he says, suddenly serious “I really would.”

You look up at him. He’s already looking down at you, eyes soft, mouth slightly parted, like he’s realizing it all over again.

You tilt your head, grinning “You’re so obvious, Ace.”

“Am not.”

“You were practically glowing while I helped that kid draw a sword.”

“I was not glowing!”

“You sighed like five times.”

“I didn’t—”

“You had your sappy ‘I’m in love’ face on.”

“I always have my sappy in love face on.”

You laugh, twisting in his arms to face him fully “True.”

He leans in, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m serious though,” he murmurs “Someday. I’d want that. With you.”

Your voice softens “Yeah. Me too.”

You kiss him slow, sure, and just a little teasing, then pull back with a grin “But if the kid turns out chaotic like you, I’m blaming your genes.”

He laughs against your mouth “Deal. But if they’re scary with a sword by age seven, that’s all you.”

You smirk “We’ll make a terrifying little pirate together.”

“Perfect.” he says, smiling like he already sees it.

[gloriousdreamerland]

𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑜𝑦

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

A/N: I watched maybe two seasons of this show last year and kind of moved past it. I randomly got a Clark Kent fic on my feed last night and suddenly I have a demon in my brain telling me to write. Anyway, there is a horrendous lack of full fledged, non-smut fics for this man, so, here you go.

Summary: Your friend has been distant for months, all of a sudden he's a brand new man. He's practically a puppy dog following after you and you're not sure how to feel. What's a girl to do when she suddenly finds herself looking at not one, but two Clark Kent's?

“Have any plans?” You pull your English book from your locker, fingers stilling as you wait for Clark to respond. Silence stretches between you, long enough to make your brows furrow in confusion. Peering around the edge of your locker door with narrowed eyes, you let out a sigh. 

You should have seen this coming. As always, Clark is staring at Lana from across the hall, looking like he walked straight out of a sappy romance movie. 

She’s close, so close, but entirely out of his reach. She laughs, tucking a perfect, shiny strand of hair behind her ear, completely unaware of the way Clark pines for her. Always pining. Always looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world. 

You could gag. 

Slamming your locker shut, perhaps harder than necessary, you break Clark out of his trance as he flinches away from the noise. His head snaps toward you, blue eyes narrowed on the irritated scrunch of your face. You smile, forcing the snark out of your expression. 

“Did you say something?” His voice is kind, expression open, as though he’s finally ready to listen. But the bell rings, cutting into the moment. You only have a minute to sprint to the other side of school. 

“No,” you sigh, forcing the stilted smile to stay on your face, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he offers, falling into step beside you. “That way you can tell me what you actually said,” he teases, giving you that familiar boyish grin that never fails to make you unravel. 

You bite your tongue for a moment, mind unraveling as you struggle with telling him the truth or not. This is stupid. He’s Clark, your best friend. Your stupid, oblivious, beautiful best friend. But the way he looks at you, soft and warm as he slows his stride so he can walk together a little longer. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

No. It will definitely still hurt. 

“Would you want to do something this weekend?” You rush it all out at once and immediately look away from him, terrified by what you might see on his face. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then Clark laughs, light and easy. Your stomach twists and your head shoots up, a disbelieving glare on your face. You’d known it would be unlikely that he’d return your feelings, but laughing seems below him. 

“Why’re you being so weird?” He shakes his head, still grinning. “We’ll just do a movie night like always.” He squeezes your shoulder, casual, friendly, a wholly innocent gesture. Nothing more and nothing different. It’s completely platonic to him, as it always is. It takes you a moment to realize that he took what you were saying the wrong way. Or, maybe this is just the gentlest way he knows how to let you down. 

“Right,” you struggle to keep your voice even but it doesn’t matter, the dejection slips through your tone. His smile falters slightly and he looks like he wants to say something when the shrill ring of the bell interrupts you both.

“I’ll see you later,” he offers but he sounds uncertain. Most of your plans have fallen through lately. Either because he was busy with Lana or off disappearing somewhere. You’re not sure, but you know the divide is growing larger between you both and you’re getting scared you’re going to lose him. 

“Sure,” you give him a flat smile and he hovers beside you for a moment, like he wants to fix this but doesn’t know how. 

“You’re going to be late,” you startle slightly and glance over your shoulder. Blake, a boy you share your English class with offers you a shy smile as he hovers by the door, holding it open for you to walk through.  

“Thanks,” you walk past them both and into class, not wanting to look at Clark any longer. You miss the sharp look Blake shoots Clark and the way your friend lingers by the door for a minute before rushing off to his own class. 

You slide into your seat, lucky to have gotten in before Mrs. Brown, lord knows she would love to make a spectacle of anyone being tardy. Blake follows not far behind you, slipping into the seat beside you as always. He’s nice enough, quiet, unassuming. You’ve never said more than a few words to each other, but right now all of his attention seems to be on you. 

He whispers your name and you give him a brief glance and smile, mind still wrapped up in Clark. “Um, I was going to ask,” he stutters over his words for a moment, swallowing thickly before finally meeting your eye. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you answer absentmindedly. “I have plans with Clark,” you tell him shortly as Mrs. Brown walks in. You don’t have time to explain that you’ll probably just end up waiting around your house all weekend. Just to get a brief and incomprehensible explanation of why you were all alone on Monday. 

He sinks back in his seat with a sigh just as the teacher begins writing the assignment on the board. You shoot him a slightly concerned look before brushing the interaction off as nothing.

Standing in the line at The Talon has become almost a hobby for you. Not just because Clark drags you here constantly, but because he distracts Lana from actually taking any orders. The wait time seems to triple every time he walks into the shop. You hear people grumbling behind you and finally move toward Clark, breaking the unspoken rule of leaving him and Lana alone. 

“There’s a line, Clark,” you sing-song, warning him. The both of them flush, breaking their hushed conversation and shooting you a sheepish look. 

“I’m sorry,” Lana apologizes and you wave her off. “Do you want anything?” 

You’d been considering getting a muffin, but when you look over and see the lovesick smile Clark is giving her, you find your appetite has disappeared. “Uh, no, I’m good.”

Clark turns toward you with a soft frown and he nearly makes you forget just how much you resent him for dragging you along to see this. “I thought you were hungry.”

You glance back at Lana and find her eyes already on him. God, what’s the point of a breakup if you’re still obsessed with each other? “No, it’s alright.”

You move away from the counter to step outside, expecting him to stay there and continue flirting despite the angry customers behind them. You’re surprised when you hear his voice immediately beside you. 

“Hey,” he moves away from the door, a grin on his face. Face wrinkling in confusion, you nod your head in greeting even though you’d just seen him. Your eyes narrow in on the leather of his jacket and your head tilts in confusion. You swear he was wearing a zip up a moment ago. “What’re you doing?” He asks, tone light as he stands beside you closer than he normally would. 

“Uh,” you’re tempted to glance over your shoulder and make sure he isn’t still standing in The Talon. “Did you hit your head?” He flushes slightly and you laugh. “Just our usual friday endeavors, you moon over Lana and I hold back the mob of angry customers who just want a coffee.” Laughing to ease some of your own tension, it trails off when you see the smile drop from his face. 

His eyes narrow and he glances toward the shop, “Idiot,” he mutters. You shoot him an affronted look and he blanches, quickly correcting himself. “Me, not you.” You want to question him further but he slings an arm over your shoulder and redirects you away from the shop. Mind a blank slate, you feel your brain break slightly at the simple touch. 

When you were younger, before Lana, before either of you even knew what crushes were, something like this would mean nothing to you. As it is, though, your friendship seems to have dwindled to nothing but compulsory hangouts and the occasional conversation in the hallway. Something as simple as his arm around you has turned into everything for you. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Movies at your place, like usual,” you remind him. He must have slipped and hit his head on the way out of The Talon.  Either that, or he already forgot the plans you made just this morning. Neither would surprise you. 

His face screws up and he shakes his head, “God, that’s lame.” You scoff, shooting him an odd look, not bothering to remind him that it was his idea. “I mean what’s he-” 

Clark cuts himself off, glancing down at you before letting out a short laugh. “How ‘bout the fair?”

You reach up and press the back of your hand to his forehead. He gives you a bewildered laugh, taking your hand in his and grinning. “What are you doing?”

You lean back slightly, breathless at the awestruck way he’s looking at you. You’ve only ever seen him look at…

Lana, you’ve only ever seen a look like this directed at Lana. But now, those deep blue eyes are pulling you in and you feel helpless to fight them. You swallow hard, blinking while you try to remember what you were even going to say. 

“Uh,” licking your lips you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement. “I was seeing if you had a fever. Since when do you want to go out?” 

He laces your fingers together and tugs you forward, “Since now.” 

Usually, you’re not so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth. Months, you’ve been praying he treats you with even a semblance of care he throws toward Lana. Now, you finally get it and you can’t help the sick tightening feeling in your stomach telling you this is all wrong.

The fair is less crowded than you had expected. Though, it is nearly the last day it’s in town, you suppose everyone’s already had their fill of it. You have been trying to get Clark to come with you for nearly a week, maybe this is why he had waited so long to join you. Some of the rides you actually got all to yourself. 

“You know these things are rigged,” you tease, watching as he tries and fails at the bottle toss for the third time. The bored teenage girl behind the booth briefly glances up from her book to glare at you both. You shoot her a sardonic smile and she turns to Clark. 

“You can just buy the stuffed animal, ya know?” She drawls. 

“That’s cheating-”

“Where’s the fun in that-”

You and Clark share a grin as you speak over each other. The girl pales at your joined voices and returns quickly to her book, muttering something about annoying couples. 

Your stomach flutters at the idea of you and Clark as a couple but you push it down. “Alright,” Clark chuckles and holds his arm out for you, “let’s get out of here.”

You slip your arm through his easily, smiling up at him. You’ve long since stopped questioning just how touchy he is. Clearly, he’s in a generous mood tonight and you feel like taking advantage of that as much as possible.

“Where to next?” He asks and your eyes crawl across the fairground, struggling to find something you haven’t already done. 

You toss what must be your third lemonade in the closest bin and shoot him a sheepish smile. “I think I’ll need to go to the bathroom before we do any more rides.”

He’s slow to let you go, hand drifting down to hold yours as he steps back. “I’ll wait by the ferris wheel,” he tells you lowly. 

Your cheeks flush, eyes widening slightly as you slip away from him. The ferris wheel is notorious among Smallville students as the place to make a move. Everyone knows it’s just couples that ride up in those rickety old cars. Still, Clark is slightly oblivious to stuff like that. You don’t want to get your hopes up just for it to ultimately be nothing more than a friendly outing. 

Rushing toward the sad group of Port-a-potties you let out an annoyed sigh when you see the long line awaiting you. Your foot bounces against the dirt impatiently as you peer around the girl in front of you just to see there has to be, at least, ten people before you. 

There’s a vibration in your pocket before you hear the shrill ringing of your Nokia. Digging it out of your jeans you answer without checking the contact. “Hello?” The girl in front of you shoots you a dirty look and you take a step back from her. 

“Hey, where’re you?” You frown at the sound of Clark’s voice, glancing around like you might be able to spot him in the crowd. You’d told him where you were going, why would he be calling?

“You know where I am,” you tell him, chuckling. 

There’s a slight huff on the other end and you frown, he almost sounds disappointed. “What are you talking about? We were supposed to watch movies tonight.”

“Okay, Clark, I’m officially concerned. You’ve been acting weird all day. We’re at the fair,” you say slowly, over-enunciating your words like he’s slow. “You said movies were going to be lame.”

There’s a long pause and he utters your name in a concerningly serious tone. “The person you’re with-”

“Alright, do you mind?” The girl in front of you whips around and snaps at you. Blanching, you lower the phone from your ear and she shoots you an incredibly dirty look. 

“Clark, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you whisper into the phone. 

“Wait-” 

You cut him off, hanging up and shoving your phone in your back pocket. She turns back around and rolls her eyes. It doesn’t take long for your Nokia to start ringing again but you figure you’ll just meet Clark by the ferris wheel like he said. 

Low groaning drifts through the noises of the crowd and makes you pause. Tilting your head around the corner of a trailer, the sounds only grow louder. Everything inside you says not to investigate, but the person sounds like they’re genuinely in pain. You can’t just walk away. 

“Hey,” you call out softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s no response and you take a hesitant step closer. A scuffed white converse slips from behind the back of the trailer and it looks worryingly similar to Clark’s. “Clark?” You call out, creeping a little further into the dark. 

It’s like a cocoon of silence back here, as though the shadows swallow the voices and loud cheering sounds of the games beyond you. “No,” the small voice croaks out. You see a hand in the dirt and they begin dragging themselves forward. You jump back a step, heart picking up as you watch them get to their feet. 

This was a stupid idea, walking toward a stranger in the dark. Even in Smallville you couldn’t trust everyone. They finally turn and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, Blake, hey.”

He gives you a weak grimace, clutching his stomach like he’s in pain. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying to get a better look. 

“Fine, fine,” he stutters out, shifting just enough to keep his face half-hidden in the shadows.  Even knowing the person lurking within the shadows, you still feel slightly on edge. Something about the way he moves unsettles you. It’s not as though you know him well, he’s just a classmate. Someone quiet and harmless. Or, you hope he’s harmless, right now there’s something about him that feels wrong.

“Alright, um, if you’re sure,” you take a careful step backward. Your foot’s barely back on the ground when he lunges forward. His hands stretch toward you like he’s about to snatch you into the shadows with him. You’re stuck deciding whether you’re going to scream or bite him when he jerks back like a puppet being yanked on a string.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, breathless. “Clark walked by. He- he told me to tell you he was leaving.”

Your stomach twists with panic. Right now you care more about not getting your throat slit in a dark alley than you do about Clark ditching you. Without a second thought, you turn on your heel and run out from between the trailers. You swear you hear footsteps, quick and light, following your path to the cars. 

Sliding into your car, you lock your doors and peel out of the lot. You leave the fair, and whatever just happened, behind, not looking back. The phone in your pocket vibrates again but you ignore it, too freaked out by what just happened to bother answering.  

Someone calls your name and you peer around the edge of your locker door, grimacing when you see Blake walking toward you. His brown hair is a mess, like he’s been fussing with it all morning, and his thick glasses, normally perched precariously on his nose, are nowhere to be seen. His normal polished clothes look like they’re three sizes too big and you frown.  

“Hey,” you drag the word out, trying to sound polite even if his outburst last night left you feeling incredibly unsettled. “Feeling any better?” You hesitate to meet his eyes, and when you do, your annoyance only deepens. 

He’s watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Did you need anything?” You ask, voice trailing off as you close your locker and take two deliberate steps back. 

Blake’s brows furrow and he almost looks hurt before his expression smooths over into something startling unreadable. “Um, no, I’m sorry,” his gaze drifts past you. The color drains from his face and you barely have a second to process the oddity of this conversation before he turns on his heel and goes barrelling down the hall.

“Hey,” Clark’s familiar voice cuts through your confusion, and you turn to see him striding toward you. Gone is the easy, playful grin he wore last night. He looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, intent on something. “We need to talk,” he tells you, tone grave. 

“I know,” you snipe, not bothering to hide your irritation at just leaving you alone at the fair last night. You aren’t surprised, he’s been doing that for weeks now. What stings is that, for a little while, you had felt like you were actually friends again, only for him to ruin it. 

His brow furrows and he glances around the empty hallway with a frown. “Look, we can’t talk here, but-”

The warning bell rings, cutting him off. “Shit,” you mutter, shoving your books into your bag and turning away from Clark. He calls your name but you wave him off. “Later, Clark, I can’t be late again.” He watches you go with a frown, running a hand through his hair before turning toward his own class. 

Not even ten minutes later you spot him walking past Mrs. Brown’s room. Though, you swear he was wearing a red shirt not a green one. You could be wrong, it’s not as if you had long to take in his outfit.

You figure he’s just passing by and go back to taking your notes. There’s a light hiss from the door and you frown, looking up to see him hovering in the doorway and waving you forward. You glare toward Mrs. Brown’s back and shake your head. No way, you mouth. 

Clark gives you a pleading look, frowning and motioning you forward again. You know that look, you’ve been on the receiving end of it for years now. He’s clearly not going to let go of whatever  he was badgering you about this morning. 

“Can I go to the bathroom?” You call out, not bothering raising your hand. The old bat’s half-blind, you doubt she’d see it anyway. 

She answers without even bothering to turn around and face you. “If you need to use the restroom, you do so before my class,” her shaky voice calls out with a huff. 

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, stuffing your books in it as she turns back to the board. There’s no point in arguing with her, she’s never going to give in. You wait until she drops her eraser. The second she bends over to grab it, you’re bolting toward the door. Clark grabs your arm, dragging you behind him.

He makes a break for the end of the hall, blowing past the geometry class he’s meant to be in. He busts through the school doors and leads you quickly through the courtyard. “Clark,” you hiss, trying to hold back a laugh at the stupid grin on his face. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes alight with mischief, “Come on, you can’t tell me you actually want to listen to her rambling on about Shakespeare for an hour.”

You can’t argue with that, but he hasn’t done a jail bust for you in a while. Especially not during one of the few classes he shares with Lana. “No, I didn’t,” you pause as you realize he’s leading you to your car and not his truck. “Am I driving?”

“Truck didn’t start this morning,” he tells you shortly, not bothering with any further explanation. You swear you saw him drive in this morning but you could be wrong. It’s not like he’s the only kid driving his dad’s old busted truck in this town. “I’ll drive, though, you won’t know where we’re going.”

“Ominous,” you snark as he takes your hand in his, directing you toward the passenger door. Gentle hands push you up against the side of the car and he ducks down, leaning into your space. You crane your neck up, flushing slightly at the proximity. Any closer and you could kiss him. 

“Well?” He questions softly, lips curling up in a half-smile that makes you want to melt. You blink, forgetting what you were doing before you notice his outstretched, open, palm. Swallowing thickly you take your keys out of your bag and place them in his hand. “Thanks,” he ducks down, soft lips pressed against your cheek before rounding the front of the car. 

Your hand drifts toward your cheek, a bewildered smile on your face as you try and regulate your breathing. “What the hell?” You mutter, shaking your head slightly. Turning around, you open the car door and slip into the passenger seat. 

Clark greets you with a grin, scooping your hand up in his as he pulls out of the school parking lot. You don’t want to think about the trouble you’re going to be in tomorrow, all you can focus on is how good Clark’s hand feels in yours. 

“I’m really starting to feel like I’m getting kidnapped,” you joke, head tilting to look out the window. The golden fields stretch endlessly, rolling past in waves as the car gets further from town. Houses become scarce, replaced by sprawling farmland and grazing cattle. The further you go, the more isolated you feel. 

Clark chuckles, but there’s something off about the sound, a slight wheeze, a strain where there wasn’t before. His face crumples and he turns away from you, his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel from his tight grip. 

“Are you okay?” You reach instinctively toward him but he jerks his hand back. You gasp, jumping back when you catch a glimpse of his face. It ripples, the skin shifting unnaturally, as if something beneath it is struggling to break free. 

“Oh no,” Clark groans, voice strained. His entire body spasms and his hands slip from the wheel. The car lurches violently to the side, tires screeching against the pavement. Panic surges through you, hands bracing against the door as you shout his name. 

He curls into himself, muscles seizing, leaving the car veering out of control. The telephone pole ahead rushes toward you, growing larger by the second. You throw yourself forward, grasping at the wheel, desperately trying to steer, but Clark’s foot slams against the gas instead of the brake. 

Everything happens too fast. A blur flashes in front of the windshield. Then, a sudden stop. Your body flies forward, arms bracing against the dashboard as your head whips forward and back, pain rattling through your spine. 

You whine in discomfort, slowly sitting up and trying to take in your surroundings. The passenger door is ripped open. You flinch, recoiling instinctively and sending a shock of pain down your body. Your breath stutters as someone ducks their head inside, a startling familiar pair of blue eyes find yours.  

“Clark?” You whisper, gaze flicking to the seat beside you where Clark still sits, doubled over, his breathing ragged. 

The Clark outside the car reaches in and gently pulls you out. Warm, calloused hands skate carefully over your arms and shoulders. He cups the back of your neck, tilting your head up, thumbs gently smoothing over your jaw as he looks you over. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is soft, thick with concern. His eyes briefly leave yours to double check you for any injuries he might have missed. 

Your heart pounds. This isn’t possible. You must be concussed. You blink rapidly still struggling to wrap your head around the whole two Clark’s thing when the second one stumbles out of the car. 

He steps are uneven as he rounds the fender, his entire body shaking. Your rescuer moves swiftly, placing himself between you and the other Clark. He shields you, broad shoulders tense, protective to a fault. Must be the real one. Right? You rub your aching head and frown. 

“What were you going to do with her?” The one in front of you barks the question out, his voice sharp and edged with something dangerous.

“I just,” the other one keels over, cutting himself off with a pained groan and shaking his head. “Wanted to get away,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forcing himself straight again. 

“And you had to take her with you?”

“What’s going on?” You jut in, stepping back from both of them. Facing them, you see the same wounded expression reflected on both faces. Whichever is the fake, he’s certainly mastered the puppy dog look. 

Your rescuer tries to take a step forward but you throw your hand up, keeping them both at bay until you know what’s going on. He sighs and glances over at his shoulder at the other one.  “How long have you been able to do this?” 

It's like they start a conversation in the middle and you’re completely lost.  “Last year, I never saw a use for it and it was too much of a pain. But then I realized,” he looks at you, face contorting. “You would never go for a guy like me. You couldn’t. You were too wrapped up in him,” he spits the word out with venom, nodding toward the Clark you know has to be the real one. 

“You love him and that stupid all-American smile.” He chuckles, but it breaks off into a groan as he doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach. He drops to his knees and moans through clenched teeth, clutching at his face as he folds over. The longer black hair shrinks to a dull brown, broad shoulders slimming as the clothes he wears hang loose on him.

The illusion shatters, “Oh, God, Blake?” You gasp out, taking one step toward him. He shakes his head and you stop as Clark grabs your elbow. You glance up at him but he just shoots you a soft look that has you rooted to the spot. 

“I’ve been in love with you since freshman year,” Blake chuckles, still sounding like every word hurts. “If only I figured it out earlier, it’s always going to be him. I never had a chance, did I?” His gaze flickers toward Clark before he collapses to the pavement. 

You both go running toward Blake. Pressing your trembling fingers to his neck, you let out a sigh of relief when you feel his faint heartbeat. 

“We need to get him to a hospital, fast.” You lean back from Blake, looking around for Clark’s truck, confused when you don’t see it. “Dammit, Clark, where's the truck?”

He flushes, shaking his head, “I didn’t bring it.”

You frown, “What’re you talking about?” 

He glances toward Blake, the rise and fall of his chest steadily slowing. When he looks back at you his expression is unreadable, an intensity to it that you’ve never seen before. “I need you to trust me.”

“Always,” you tell him without missing a beat. He gives you a small smile but it lacks the usual warmth. 

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” You glare at him but he just shakes his head. 

“Please,” he looks close to begging and the pulse under your grip is getting weaker. Swallowing down your confusion you close your eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I’ll be back.”

You frown, feeling a rough breeze blow back your hair as your eyes shoot open. But the spot in front of you is empty and the body under your hand has disappeared. Getting to your feet, you spin in one slow circle. There’s nothing out here except golden fields, your totaled car, and you. All alone. 

Clark eventually came back for you. His truck rolling into view after being on your own for half an hour. You hadn’t talked to him the whole ride back to town, too shocked by everything that had happened. 

He carried the conversation for the both of you, offering a brief explanation that only confused you more. Blake had apparently been one of the meteor freaks, somehow being exposed to it when it had left a crater in your town. 

But Clark didn’t tell you how he made it across the highway and to the hospital in under five minutes with no car. He didn’t tell you anything that actually mattered. So, you told him to drop you off at home and you haven’t seen him in a week. 

Chloe had called you once during your self-induced isolation, just to tell you that she’d driven by Blake’s house. Apparently the entire place looked like it had been cleaned out. No sign of him or his parents anywhere. You wish you could say you care, but you don’t. You’re almost grateful he’s gone. Not only did he reveal your long held secret infatuation to Clark, he’d clearly had ill intentions as he tried to take you out of town. 

Your Nokia nearly buzzes itself off your nightstand as you set your book to the side and look at the all-too familiar contact.

Clarkie

The stupid nickname you’d given him in middle school lights up the small screen and you let out a rough sigh, watching as it rings and rings before finally quieting. The screen goes dark before lighting up once more as his ringtone fills the silence of your room. He doesn’t give up easily, you have to give him that. 

You’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face him. Not now that he knows about your feelings for him. There’s no hiding what Blake so plainly laid out for him. You sink into the comforts of the pillows on your bed and wonder if you could just live here forever. 

Something knocks against your window and you ignore it as nothing more than a branch from the tree. It’s not much longer before it happens again and you rip your hands off your face and are forced to sit up. Your phone rings once more and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that you know exactly who waits outside your window. 

“You can’t hide forever,” comes an annoying cheerful voice from outside. You force yourself off your bed and slink toward your window. Sure enough, Clark waits below it, a boyish grin poised on his face as he looks up at you. As much as you’re avoiding him, it’s plain cruel to just leave him outside. 

Reluctantly, you open your window and he’s quick to climb your tree. You back up as he slots his broad frame through and into your room. He lets out a short huff of breath and straightens up, giving you a sheepish smile. 

Taking a seat on your bed, you find it a tad difficult to look at him. Clark sucks in a deep breath and grabs your desk chair. He straddles it, resting on the back of it and staring at you until you feel like he’s going to burn holes into the side of your face. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You hum and shrug, tucking a loose wave behind your ear. “I’ve been sick,” you lie, briefly looking up. The intense way he’s looking at you leaves you breathless and you have to take in a slow breath so your heart doesn’t kick up too much.  

“I want to tell you something.” Your head shoots up, concern lacing through you at the grave tone of his words. He looks away from you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, actually, I want to ask you something first. Is, uh,” he chuckles a little and licks his lips, a nervous tick he’s never been able to kick. “Is all that stuff that Blake said true?”

Your stomach drops, burying your face in your hands, you let out a low groan. “Oh, god,” you suck in a sharp breath, unable to look at him as heat flushes through you. 

Lying is always an option. It’s a poor option, but it’s there. Maybe, if you just lied straight through your teeth he would drop it and leave you alone. But you’ve been hiding this for so long, tucked so tightly to your chest, it would be a relief to finally be unburdened of the truth. 

“Yes,” you whisper. You don’t want to look at him, don’t want to face the truth of his rejection. Clark has been your best friend since you could walk, losing him over this stupid crush would destroy you. 

The silence drags on for too long and you feel the anxiety calling its way around you. Warmth envelops your hands and calloused palms draw them away from your face. 

You peek one eye open to find Clark kneeling before you, a soft smile on his face. “You better not be laughing at me, Kent.”

A small chuckle slips through his lips and you slap at his shoulder. He catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I’m not, I promise. I wish you’d told me.”

“Why? So I could ruin our friendship faster?” You snark. 

“No, so I could do this,” he darts forward, soft lips capturing yours. You freeze up, eyes wide as his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. 

There’s a brief moment of shock where you’re completely frozen. But then you feel the way his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. And you find yourself melting into the feeling of his embrace, eyes closing as you slowly open up to him. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying themselves in the soft waves of his hair. 

The kiss itself is gentle, chaste almost. But it warms you from the inside out, makes you feel like you’re going to be nothing but a puddle of goo the longer he holds you. When he pulls back, he drags it out, lips lingering as long as they can. 

You’re slow to recover, eyes glazed over as you stare at him. He seems just as shocked, like he hadn’t expected to do that. Of course, you say the first thing that comes to mind instead of just shutting up and enjoying the moment. “What about Lana?” You blurt out, wincing the second it leaves your mouth. 

He frowns at you and shrugs, “What about her?”

“You’ve been blowing me off for months for her. We go to her shop every day just so you can stare at her. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly discovered feelings for me. I won’t be your backup, Clark.”

He shakes his head vehemently, looking almost offended by the idea. “What? No. Of course you’re not,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you before sinking back on his heels with a huff. “Look, I wasn’t ditching you for her, I can explain all that,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “later.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and he reaches up, taking your hands in his. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But the most important thing is that I am completely over Lana.”

“Really?” You question, tone harsh but bordering almost on teasing. “You look at all your friends like that?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he pauses, “just you,” he adds with a cheeky smirk. You roll your eyes and shake your head, looking away from him. “Whatever you thought you saw between us, it was only on her end. I swear, it’s been you for a long time.”  

You look away, but he’s not accepting that, tilting your chin to face him once more. “It’s always been you,” he murmurs, voice steady, certain.

Your breath hitches, heart stuttering in your chest. Maybe this is real. Maybe it’s been you that’s been the oblivious idiot. 

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze head-on. “Then prove it.”

His smile is slow, confident, and this time when he leans in you don’t hesitate to meet him halfway.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[gloriousdreamerland]

⌕ one piece: mugiwaras • franky.

♡ like or reblog if you save/use.

[gloriousdreamerland]

Borrowed Hearts - pt.3 (end)

Trafalgar Law × Fem!Reader

part 2

You attack the Heart Pirates with your crew, but it ends up backfiring on you, so you end up helping Law and the others in Wano.

Reader's powers: inspired by Monoma's powers (bnha). Basically you can borrow/copy other people's powers.

Words Count: 4.5k

A/N: Honestly this is my favourite piece I wrote （*＾-＾*）

Tags: could contain wano arc spoilers, enemies to lovers, fight scenes, humor, awkward powers, bikering, fluff building

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You end up at the edge of the village, where the forest begins. The music is softer here. You can still hear it, but it’s distant, like a memory.

You lean against a tree, watching him. He looks… serious. More than usual.

“You’re not gonna scold me for the ‘husband’ thing, are you?” you tease lightly, trying to fill the heavy silence.

He doesn’t smile.

“No.” Law says.

His eyes are dark, thoughtful, studying you like he’s seeing something he didn’t understand before.

“I just…” He trails off, searching for words. His hand grips his sword tighter, like he needs something solid to hold onto.

“I wanted to say…” he starts again, slower, more careful “I’m glad I met you.”

You blink, feeling your heart jump stupidly hard.

Law glances away, frustrated, like he’s mad at himself for even saying it out loud.

“You’re reckless. Annoying,” he adds, voice rougher, but not angry “You joke too much. You act without thinking.”

You laugh quietly “Gee, thanks. I get you're drunk but I have a heart too, you know?”

“But…” He turns back to you, eyes sharp and raw “You’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for. Including yourself.”

You stop laughing.

“You could’ve run,” Law says “You could’ve abandoned us. You could’ve used your powers for yourself. No one could’ve stopped you. But you stayed. You fought. You trusted us.”

His voice drops even lower.

“And you trusted me.”

You swallow thickly, feeling your chest get tight.

Law steps a little closer, not touching but close enough you can feel the heat of him.

“I don’t take that lightly.” he says.

The words hit you harder than you expect.

You open your mouth to say something... anything... but nothing comes out.

Law watches you for a second longer. Then, as if it costs him something real, he mutters under his breath:

“I care about... you... More than I should.”

Your heart stutters.

You want to joke. To tease. To lighten the heavy feeling building between you. But you don’t.

You step closer too, standing just a breath away.

You look up at him, feeling brave for once “Good,” you say softly “Because now I care about you too.”

Law’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile, but something close.

He leans in slightly, and for a second you think he might kiss you but he stops himself, pulling back with a frustrated sound deep in his throat.

“We’re drunk...” he says, voice rough “I’m not doing something stupid just because of sake.”

You laugh breathlessly, heart pounding “Then do something stupid tomorrow.”

Law finally smiles, a real one this time, small and crooked and beautiful.

“Maybe I will.” he says.

And for once, there’s no pretending between you anymore.

The next morning, Wano is quiet. Not the heavy silence of battle, but the lazy, tired quiet of people recovering from too much celebrating.

You wake up with your head pounding and your mouth dry.

The sunlight is too bright. Your clothes smell like smoke, sake, and sweet festival food.

You groan into your pillow.

“Never drinking again...” you mumble (lie).

You don’t even go back to the others right away because today is the day everyone leaves. Today is the day you have to say goodbye.

You dress slowly, dragging your feet, doing everything you can to stall.

Part of you wants to march down to the docks, hug your chaotic temporary “husband”, and say a proud goodbye like it’s nothing.

The other part, the bigger part, doesn’t trust your heart not to break if you see him face to face.

So instead you do what you do the best… you hide.

You find yourself walking toward the hills overlooking the coast, where you can see everything without being seen.

From up here, the view is perfect. The sea is a dazzling blue. The three big ships othe f Heart Pirates, Straw Hats, Kid Pirates, are docked, bobbing lightly in the water.

You can see them even from this distance: tiny figures moving back and forth, shouting, loading supplies.

Even without hearing, you can tell the Strawhats and Kid’s crew are already arguing. You spot Kid waving his arms aggressively. Luffy probably laughing like a maniac.

The usual chaos.

You smile a little despite yourself.

It feels so familiar now.

You spot Law’s crew too, you see Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, all working more calmly. Packing things with neat efficiency.

Law stands near the ramp of his submarine, one hand on his sword, looking like he’s organizing something.

Except… he keeps glancing around.

Looking for someone.

Looking for you.

You feel your throat tighten.

You press your hand to your chest, willing your heart to stay inside your ribs.

When your ship finally sails into view, it’s easy to spot your crew… your small, humble ship.

They’re waving, calling out to the others, asking questions you can’t hear.

Your first mate is there, looking around frantically.

Your navigator points toward the town like maybe you’re still there.

Everyone shrugs, looks confused.

Law doesn’t shrug.

He frowns deeper, scanning harder, stepping up the ramp a few steps, scanning the cliffs and the forests beyond the coast.

You sink down behind the tall grass on the hill so he won’t spot you.

Coward.

Coward.

Coward.

You hug your knees tightly, watching the scene like a ghost.

You think about all those weeks together.

Training. Fighting. Laughing.

Teasing him. Saving each other’s lives.

Dancing like idiots in the festival square.

Calling him your husband.

Hearing him say “I care about you” like it physically hurt him to admit it.

And now you’re just… hiding.

Because if you face him…

If you say goodbye…

You’re scared you won’t be able to leave.

You wipe your face quickly when you realize tears are threatening to fall.

Down at the docks, you see Law step forward again.

You see how his crew keeps looking at him, how Bepo says something that makes him shake his head.

Like he’s telling them to wait. Like he’s giving you a little more time.

You bury your face in your arms.

“I’m sorry...” you whisper into the grass “I’m sorry I’m such a coward.”

But you stay hidden anyway, because you don’t know how to say goodbye to the person who made you feel seen again.

Then you suddenly stop thinking.

And that's when you run down the hill, full speed, your heart hammering so hard it hurts. You fall a few times for how fast you're going, your knees now red.

The docks get closer and closer. The ships are almost ready. They’re about to leave.

Your crew spots you first.

“Y/N!!” Your first mate’s voice cuts through the noise, pure panic.

They start running toward you, waving their arms, trying to reach you.

Some of them yell things you can’t even hear over the blood rushing in your ears.

“Y/N! You’re okay!!”

“Captain, slow down!”

“Are you hurt?!”

You barely even see them.

You’re only looking for him.

And then you spot him.

Standing near the ramp of the Polar Tang, head turning at the commotion.

His eyes find you instantly as he freezes.

You slam to a stop a few meters away from him. Your legs buckle.

You collapse onto your knees, hitting the ground hard, hands slapping the floor to keep from faceplanting.

The force rattles your arms.

You drop your head down, gasping, crying so hard it feels like your ribs might crack.

You’re sobbing.

Loud. Ugly. Desperate.

Right there, in front of everyone.

The docks go quiet in shock.

You hear footsteps rushing toward you... your crew, your precious idiots who never saw you like this before.

“Y/N...”

“Y/N, breathe!”

“Captain, we’re here!”

Someone reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch back violently.

“N-No—!” you choke out, not even looking up “D-Don’t—”

They all freeze, hurt flashing across their faces.

They don’t understand.

A shadow falls over you.

You feel a hand, a different hand, hover above you.

“Y/N…?”

Law’s voice.

Rough. Careful.

More careful than he’s ever been before.

You shudder so hard your arms almost collapse again.

Law slowly lowers his hand onto your back. Solid. Warm. Steady.

The Heart Pirates stand nearby, tense and whispering.

“Should we…?”

“Is she okay?”

“Captain…?”

Kid’s crew stares, weirded out but curious.

Kid himself scoffs loudly “The hell is happening now?!”

Killer elbows him sharply, probably telling him to shut up.

Luffy just watches with wide eyes, mouth hanging open in confusion “Ehhhhh?! y/n’s crying?! Why?!”

“Idiot.” Zoro mutters under his breath somewhere.

Nami, Robin, Chopper, everyone who stayed behind… all of them are frozen too, whispering and glancing between you and Law.

But Law ignores them all.

His hand stays steady on your back.

“I’m sorry” is the only thing you can say in between your sobs.

“You don’t have to apologize.” he says lowly, voice like gravel.

You look up at him, face soaked in tears, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. You open your mouth but you can’t speak.

You need him. You need him so badly it hurts.

You lift a shaking hand.

Law tenses thinking you’re going to cling to him.

Instead you tap his wrist.

There’s a small, almost invisible pulse of power.

You steal his ability.

Law’s eyes widen a fraction but he doesn’t move to stop you. He lets you.

You push yourself up just enough, body trembling violently, and with the last ounce of your control you croak out “Room.”

The world shifts around you.

People gasp.

Someone shouts.

“Y/N!!!”

“What is she doing with it now?!”

“Captain Law—!!”

“Did she just—?!”

Before anyone can grab you, you lock onto Law’s body with your mind and shamble the two of you away.

Gone.

In a blink.

You land rough, tumbling onto the grass somewhere on a hill, far away from the docks.

The second you regain your balance you launch yourself at him.

No hesitation.

You crash into Law’s chest, arms wrapping around him so tightly it knocks the breath from your lungs.

You cling to him desperately. Face buried into his shoulder.

You’re crying harder now. Shaking so badly you almost knock you both over.

You don’t care about pride. You don’t care about looking weak. You don’t care about anything except holding onto him for just a few more seconds.

Law stands frozen for a second.

And then, slowly and carefully, he wraps his arms around you too. Pulls you in tight. Lets you cry. Lets you fall apart. Lets you be real.

No judgment. No anger. No shame.

Just him. Just you. Just this.

Your sobs slowly die into quiet, shuddering breaths.

Law never lets go, arms around you, body anchoring you back to the world. He waits.

Only when you’re calm enough to lift your head he speaks.

He looks at you and for the first time, he doesn’t hide anything.

No coldness. No walls.

Just tired, raw, vulnerable honesty “Y/N…”

He hesitates for a second. Then he leans back just enough so you can see his face properly.

“Yesterday,” he says quietly, “when I asked you to join my crew… I knew you’d say no.”

You blink at him, confused and hurting.

He gives a small, almost embarrassed smile “But that wasn’t my Plan A.”

You freeze. Your heart jumps.

Law glances away briefly, as if picking the right words, then meets your eyes again.

“Every time you smiled,” he says, voice rough but warm, “every damn time… my brain just started planning ways to keep you by my side.”

You let out a shaky breath.

It doesn’t sound possessive. It sounds… aching. Like someone who found something precious and didn’t know how to hold it without breaking it.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to fish something out from inside his coat. A small metal key.

You stare at it, confused.

“I didn’t know if you’d ever accept,” Law mutters, looking down at it, fingers turning the key nervously “But before the fight… even today… I worked on something.”

He lifts his head, locking eyes with you again.

“I had Bepo and the others help me make space on the Polar Tang. Real space. New rooms. New systems. Enough for you and your entire crew.”

Your breath catches painfully.

“You—?” Your voice cracks.

Law nods once.

“I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and them. I didn’t want to ask you to abandon them.” He presses the key into your hand, folding your fingers gently around it “I just wanted you to know… you have a home. With us. If you want it.”

You can barely see him through the new flood of tears in your eyes “You… you did all that… even though you weren’t sure if we would come?”

“I had to try,” Law says simply “For you.”

There’s a long silence between you, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Just full of things unspoken.

You look down at the key in your hand.

Small. Cold. Heavy with everything it means.

He didn’t just want you for your powers. He didn’t want you because you were strong. He made a space because he loved you, long before he could even say it.

You lift your head slowly.

“Law…” Your voice shakes “I don’t want to ruin this and all but… is this… is this a confession?”

He breathes out a short, broken laugh.

“No,” he says “It’s a promise.”

You stare at him, heart slamming against your ribs.

“I’m not asking you to give up being a captain,” Law says quietly “I’m not asking you to change. I’m just asking you to stay.”

He leans down, forehead almost against yours.

“And if you stay… I’ll never let you feel alone again.”

You stare at Law like you’ve never seen him before.

Your heart is full to the point of bursting.

So, naturally… you grin.

Still tear-streaked. Still trembling. But it’s your real smile again... wild, mischievous, you.

“Since when, Trafalgar?” you tease softly, wiping your face roughly on your sleeve “Since when did you fall for me, huh?”

Law exhales, half a laugh, half a groan.

“I should’ve known you’d ask that.” he mutters, rolling his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance. Only affection.

You step closer, voice dropping to a mock-whisper.

“Was it when I stole your powers and made a mess of everything?” You nudge his chest lightly “Or when I called Zoro and Robin my type in front of you?”

Law snorts under his breath, shaking his head.

“You’re unbearable.”

“But you still made room for me.” you sing, eyes gleaming.

He gives a small, crooked smile “Maybe I’m the unbearable one then.”

You laugh a real, bright laugh that echoes across the hilltop.

Law’s smile grows just a little wider at the sound. Relief flickers across his face, soft and obvious. You’re you again.

Finally, he clears his throat, pretending to sound serious “So… what’s your answer?”

You step closer.

He stiffens slightly stunned as you take his face between your hands. Gently. Tenderly.

He doesn’t move.

He doesn’t breathe.

And you lean up, closing the last bit of space between you, and kiss him.

Slow and shaky at first, because you’re still crying a little, still overwhelmed, but certain. So certain.

Law freezes for a second, like he can’t believe this is real, and then kisses you back, fierce and sure.

The key in your hand presses between your palms and his chest, warm between you.

When you finally pull back, you rest your forehead against his.

Breathing the same air.

Smiling through fresh tears.

“My answer,” you whisper, voice trembling with happiness, “is yes.”

Law exhales slowly.

Like he’s been holding that breath for months.

And for the first time since you met him, you see him look… happy.

Not just relieved. Not just proud. But truly, deeply, happy.

He wraps his arms around you again, pulling you tightly against him.

“Welcome home.” he murmurs against your hair.

And this time, you don’t have to hide your tears. You’re already exactly where you want to be.

You and Law walk back down the hill, side by side.

You’re still smiling so much your face hurts.

He’s still trying to act like he’s unaffected but the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth gives him away.

As you get closer to the docks, you realize… nobody left.

Your two crews, the Strawhats, and even Kid’s crew, they’re all still there, scattered across the beach. Watching around nervously. Waiting.

You spot Kid crossing his arms with a scowl.

Luffy bouncing up and down, pointing in your direction.

Your own crew pacing around, stressed out.

As soon as they see you, smiling, laughing, nudging Law’s arm while you talk, a visible wave of relief goes through all of them.

You can almost hear them all thinking thank god.

You break into a run the last few meters and crash into your crew, grabbing them into a messy group hug.

“What happened?!” your vice-captain asks, pulling back to look you over, worried.

You wink dramatically.

“Let’s just say—” you throw an arm around his shoulders and point grandly toward the docks, “—let’s say goodbye to our small ship companion!”

Everyone stares at you.

“…What?” someone says slowly.

You grin and, still leaning on your vice-captain, spin both of you around and point toward the Polar Tang, Law’s big yellow submarine.

“That’s our new ship!” you declare proudly.

Your crew gasps.

Your vice-captain blinks once.

“…Y/N, that’s hard to steal,” he says very seriously “Especially if you announce it in front of the owners—”

“No need to steal anything.” Law cuts in, walking up behind you.

Everyone turns to him like he’s a second sun suddenly appearing.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, speaking in his usual calm tone.

“The Heart Pirates made space,” Law says simply “For your captain and for all of you. You’re moving in with us. If you want.”

You turn back to your crew, practically bouncing on your feet.

Their mouths hang open. Someone drops a crate. Someone else stares between you and Law like he’s doing math he can’t solve.

Finally, your vice-captain recovers first.

“…Is that because you’re in love with our Captain?” he says suspiciously.

Dead silence.

Law closes his eyes slowly like he regrets his entire life.

You cackle and elbow him lightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” your vice-captain says, victorious.

Behind you, you hear Kid muttering, “No way…”

Luffy gasping loudly.

Zoro smirking like he knew this from the beginning.

Others chuckling.

You just beam, throwing your arms wide “Welcome to our new home, idiots!”

Your crew finally cheers, still confused, still overwhelmed, but happy. Because they trust you. Because somehow, things worked out better than anyone ever imagined.

And Law just watches you.

Like he still can’t believe you’re really here.

It turns out moving ships isn’t as easy as it sounds.

Even with a small, humble ship like yours, there’s a lot to haul.

Your crew is busy carrying crates and bags, helped by the Heart Pirates who, surprisingly, don’t complain much. Some of them already joking like they gained new weird family members.

Meanwhile, you’re in your little cabin, trying to pack up your personal treasures.

Law kneels beside an open chest, carefully picking through the things you’re keeping, like he’s cataloging them in his mind.

He holds up one colorful book.

“…Comics?” he says, a little amused.

You glance over, smiling softly “Yeah. I love them.”

Law flips through the pages curiously.

You sit on the edge of your bed, hugging a small pillow to your chest.

“As I told you when I was a kid,” you say, voice lighter than the weight of your words, “I didn’t have many friends. After I ate my devil fruit… people were scared of me.”

You pause, smiling a little sadly “So I started reading. Comics, mostly. It was like… a way to escape. I could be anywhere, anyone, for a little while.”

Law stops flipping the pages. He doesn’t say anything, but when you glance up, his gaze is soft. Understanding.

You clear your throat, shaking off the heaviness, and grin teasingly.

“And besides,” you add, pointing a finger at him, “I saw you nerding out over Sanji’s raid suit that day. You’re a nerd too!”

Law blinks like you hit him with something invisible.

“I was analyzing the technology.” he says flatly.

“Uh-huh,” you hum, smirking “Nerd.”

He huffs, a tiny twitch of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You beam, feeling lighter.

But after another five minutes of trying to shove too many things into a box, you flop dramatically onto your bed.

“Lawww…” you whine, kicking your feet “Can’t you use your powers to move my stuff? I’m tiiired.”

You stick your bottom lip out in a ridiculous, exaggerated pout.

Law doesn’t even blink.

“No.” he says simply.

You groan, sitting up with a fake glare.

“Fine,” you huff “Then I’ll do it myself.”

You throw yourself off the bed and charge at him, arms stretched out like you’re about to touch him and steal his powers.

Law steps back instinctively but instead of copying his powers, you just crash into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

He freezes for half a second.

Then his arms slide around you too, steady, sure, like they were always meant to be there.

You press your cheek against his jacket, grinning.

“I like my solution better.” you mumble happily.

Before he can answer, the door creaks open.

Your vice-captain steps in, with Shachi trailing behind him, both holding empty crates.

They both stop dead.

They stare at the two of you, wrapped up together like you’re glued at the heart.

“…Uh,” your vice-captain says awkwardly, “we finished moving all the crates and wanted to see if you needed help...”

He looks at Law’s hands still around you “...but maybe you don’t?”

Shachi snickers.

“Is this our new life now?” he says with a huge grin.

You laugh brightly without letting go of Law, tilting your head up just enough to smirk.

“Yup,” you chirp “Get used to it!”

Law sighs against your hair, a soft sound, tired but fond.

Like he already knows this is his life now too, but he doesn’t mind one bit.

After hours of moving crates, boxes, and furniture, everything is finally ready.

You stand on the deck of the Polar Tang, looking around in awe.

Your old little ship, full of memories, is now officially part of your past.

Your future starts here.

“Come on,” Bepo says, waving you and your crew inside excitedly “We’ll show you your rooms!”

You follow him.

The corridors are tight, submarine life, but clean and well-kept.

You pass room after room: some smaller ones where your crew will stay (they’re already cheering and picking spots like kids at a sleepover).

Finally, Bepo stops in front of a bigger door.

He throws it open dramatically “Ta-daaa!”

You step inside and blink.

Your new room is huge compared to the others. There’s a real bed, a bookshelf, an actual desk and even a small couch tucked against one wall.

It’s… beautiful. Simple, but everything you never had on your tiny ship.

Your crew piles in behind you.

“…This is not fair.” your vice-captain says, pouting.

“She’s already getting favoritism.” someone else grumbles, only half joking.

Law, standing at the doorway with his arms crossed, speaks calmly “It’s because she’s a captain.”

You’re about to thank him but your teasing nature wins.

You smirk, twirling toward him.

“And his wife,” you say sweetly “Or… ex-wife?”

Law stiffens visibly.

His mouth opens slightly, like he wants to say something, anything, but no words come out.

Shachi and Penguin snort so hard they almost fall over.

Bepo covers his mouth, trying to hide a laugh.

Your crew laughs too, loving the sight of the usually calm and composed Law looking completely flustered.

You saunter up to him, poking his chest playfully.

“It’s fine, Captain Law,” you tease “You can still call me your wife if you want.”

Law glares at you half-heartedly, his cheeks slightly pink.

“Don’t push your luck.” he mutters under his breath.

You grin wider but everyone can see the way he watches you now.

Not with annoyance, not even with just fondness, but with something deeper that says this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Your new life has begun and it’s already a mess.

In the best way possible.

Happy arc:

The Heart Pirates really went all out.

They hung decorations all over the Polar Tang, even though it made the tight corridors look like a festival stand.

The small dining room is packed, your crew and theirs mixing together, eating, laughing, yelling over each other.

Someone put on music (you’re not sure where they even found a radio down here) and Bepo keeps trying to dance without knocking anyone over.

It’s chaos. Good chaos.

You sit tucked away at the edge of the room, nursing a drink, eyes soft as you watch everyone celebrate.

It’s the first time you’ve seen your crew so relaxed with another. It’s the first time you’ve felt… safe.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Law leaning against the wall, away from the noise.

You smile.

Without even thinking, you slip through the crowd and grab his hand, threading your fingers through his.

Law looks down at you, a little surprised.

You just smile up at him bright, full of life.

“Hey,” you say softly “Just wanted to steal you for a second.”

You tug him along a few steps, just enough that you’re out of the direct line of sight from the others, who are too busy drinking and laughing to notice anyway.

You stop and face him, still holding his hand.

“I’m really happy.” you tell him honestly.

Your voice drops to something a little softer, something that feels almost private, just for him “I didn’t know it could feel like this. Being part of something… safe. Being wanted.”

Law’s thumb brushes lightly against your knuckles.

“You deserve it.” he says simply, like it’s a fact, no hesitation at all.

You grin wider, tilting your head teasingly.

“So…” you drawl “How does it work now? Two captains on one ship?”

Law raises an eyebrow.

“I outrank you.” he says dryly.

You snicker.

“But I’m more fun.” you shoot back.

Law’s lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice so only he can hear.

“And what about if we want to sleep together, hm? My room, yours…” You tap your chin thoughtfully “Or should we alternate?”

Law chokes slightly.

You laugh under your breath, proud of yourself for making the great Trafalgar D. Water Law flustered again.

But you squeeze his hand to let him know you’re teasing, and serious... and here, with him.

Law tugs you a little closer, enough that your foreheads almost touch.

“We’ll figure it out.” he murmurs.

And somehow, those three simple words sound like a promise. About more than just rooms.

About a future. Together.

You close your eyes for a moment, just breathing him in.

The smell of the sea, the sharp clean scent of his jacket, the steady warmth of him.

You’re home.

Finally.

And this time, you’re not alone.

[gloriousdreamerland]

positivity post 😁😁!!!!

[gloriousdreamerland]

Something There That Wasn't There Before (Ace x Reader)

Summary: Five times other people noticed Ace was hopelessly in love with you, and one time you did.

AN: I've had a couple other WIPs that have absolutely been kicking my butt, so I needed a break to write something fun and short. I remember early on in TWST a lot of people had a theory that Ace was going to be a traitor or something, and then book 7 happened.

Warnings: AFAB reader she/her pronouns, menstration and blood briefly, fluff, best friends to lovers, does this count as a song fic?

Cross posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Light streamed in through the large windows of Ramshackle dorm, catching the delicately floating dust mots in the air. It probably would have been considered a peaceful morning, if not for the loud banging on the front door that immediately shattered the blissful quiet. 

“Seriously, Ace? Again?” (Y/N) huffed without any real malice, hands on her hips. “You’re going to get a permanent mark around your neck at this point.” 

Ace scowled and looked away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the evidence of Riddle’s signature spell locked firmly around his neck. 

“I’m going to transfer dorms this time, I mean it,” Ace said, waltzing into Ramshackle without waiting for an invitation. Not that it really mattered, anyway. Everyone in Night Raven College knew that if you were trying to find Ace Trappola, the Prefect’s dilapidated dorm was a good place to start. 

(Y/N) followed Ace as he strode purposefully through the hall to the sitting room, flopping down on the couch with his hands behind his head. “Seriously,” She said. “You get collared so often I think your kids are going to be born with one around their neck.” 

Ace smirked up at her. “Do you think about my kids a lot, (Y/N)?” He laughed as (Y/N) scowled and kicked his crossed legs.  

“Whatever. I’ll make some more eggs. Do you want juice or coffee?” 

With a winning smirk, Ace jumped up and followed her, not unlike a particularly fond puppy, into the kitchen. 

“He better not eat all my eggs,” Grim grumbled from the banister where he and the Ramshackle ghosts had been watching the exchange. “Last time he came for breakfast he took my waffles!” 

“Hadn’t you already had five by that point?” Ezra, the thin and almost skeletal ghost, asked. 

“That’s not the point!” 

“Oh, it’s best to leave them be,” Phineas, the midsized ghost, said. 

Gus, the rotund ghost, picked up Grim, not without due complaints, and the group hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, spying on the two. Ace said something that made (Y/N) laugh, grinning victoriously as she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to hide her smile. She thumped his chest with her spatula. The observant ghosts noticed that she had made Ace’s plate of breakfast different according to his specific tastes without having needed to ask. 

“Ah,” Phineas said. “It’s it a joy to watch it bloom right in front of your eyes? I’d almost forgotten what it’s like.” 

“Oh, of course, of course,” Gus said, holding Grim and scratching behind his ears to distract him. “I can see it clear as day.” 

“Mra?” Grim asked, trying not to lose himself in the pleasant scratching sensation. “See what?” 

“There’s something sweet,” Ezra said. “And almost kind.” 

“There’s certainly something there that wasn’t there before,” Phineas concluded with a definitive nod. 

“What?” Grim shouted, extracting himself from the ghost’s arms. “What’s there?” 

The three gave each other knowing looks. “We’ll tell you when you’re older, Grimmie.” 

~~~ 

Ace gnashed his teeth as the basketball bounced uselessly off the basket rim. It was his fourth time missing an easy basket during club practice that day and the annoying itch of being off his game was starting to get at him. 

Coach Vargus blew his whistle, waving everyone off the court for a water break. Ace drank in large gulps from his water bottle, rolling his shoulders to try and shake off whatever funk he was stuck in. He jumped as a freezing cold and wet sensation pressed against his neck. He whipped around his see Floyd glaring down at him, his normal sharp toothed grin pulled into an annoyed frown. 

“Geez, Crabby,” Floyd said. “You’re making a mess out there, and not the fun kind.” 

Ace shoved Floyd’s water bottle away. “Lay off, I’m fine.” 

“You’re not,” Jamil said, sitting down on the bleachers and looking at the two sideways. “And it’s affecting the rest of us. So whatever’s going on, get it together.” 

Ace swatted at the air as if trying to bat away their comments like flies. “I told you I’m fine! It’s not my fault some people just want to fly off the handle at every little joke.” He frowned and muttered under this breath, “She knew I was just joking, right?” 

Jamil and Floyd shared a look, both knowing there was really only one ‘she’ Ace could be referring to. 

“Girl trouble?” Floyd teased. 

“Knock it off! It’s not like that!” 

“So then what is it ‘like,’ then?” Jamil asked, crossing his arms. 

“It’s just a misunderstanding, stop prying.” 

“Well, if it’s that easy, you have a chance to clear it up now. “ Jamil pointed to the door of the gym. Ace jumped straight to attention as he saw (Y/N) walk in, looking around. She caught his eye and smiled shyly, lifting her hand in an uncertain wave. 

Floyd slapped Ace on the back. “Go get ‘em, Crabby!” 

Ace rubbed his sore shoulder, glaring back at the two while jogging over to (Y/N). “Uh, hi.” 

“Hi,” She said back. “Practice going well?” 

“It’s… fine.” 

They both didn’t say anything for a second, before speaking at the same time. 

“Look, I wanted to-”

“I just wanted to tell you that-” 

They both stopped trying to allow the other to speak first. “Go - go ahead,” Ace said nervously. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said, fiddling with her fingers and looking down. “It’s just - I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I’m making a ton of progress with classes and everything, and then someone says something that makes me remember I don’t even know the most basic information of this world, and then it all comes crashing down and I feel like I haven’t made any progress at all. But I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It was childish and I know you weren’t trying to be mean or anything. I’m sorry.” 

Ace’s already flushed face turned even redder. He looked away, pulling up the collar of his jersey to cover the lower half of his face, pretending like he was wiping sweat away. “I, uh, yeah, no, I get it. I’m, uh, I’m sorry too. I keep forgetting you’re not, like, from here and don’t know everything. You know I don’t really mean it when I say that kind of stuff, right? Not to you, anyway.” 

“Right, I get it. I guess I need to get thicker skin.” 

“No, it was my fault, totally! You’re doing great with everything, more than great! Seriously, you got to just ignore me half the time.” Ace bit his tongue before he could feel himself start to babble more. 

She smiled at him and he felt his heart speed up like he was in the middle of practice again. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, no problem.” 

From back at the bleachers, Floyd and Jamil eavesdropped on the pair’s conversation. “Aww,” Floyd teased, elbowing Jamil. “You think they’re going to kiss and make up?” 

Jamil pushed his hand away. “Don’t get in the middle of stuff that doesn't involve you.”  

“It’s cute though, right? Look how embarrassed Crabby is getting.” 

“Yes,” Jamil said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “He’s a dear.” 

“Come on, look at them!” Floyd waved his hand, the subject of their observation oblivious. They were standing just an inch too close to each other given the situation, both locked on the other as if they were the only people in the gym, on campus, on Sage’s Island, in the world. (Y/N) laughed at something he said, snapping Ace out of his focus. He blushed hard again, looking away and covering his face with his hand to try and disguise it. “Poor Crabby’s so unsure.” 

Jamil sat up straighter, mouth dropping slightly open and eyes wide. He shook his head, ignoring Floyd’s knowing look. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it there before.” 

For the second half of practice, Ace scored six baskets. 

~~~ 

It was a perfect spring day. The sun was warm, the sky a robin’s egg blue, and a cool wind swirled around the campsite in the forest surrounding Night Raven College. The newly christened Camp Vargus was in full swing, students running from task to task to try and meet the requirements necessary to keep their club from being shut down. 

“Wait, wait! I think I’ve got it!” Deuce yelled in excitement. He was on his hands and knees, leaning down way too close to the base of an unlit campfire. Forbidden from using magic, their group had to start a fire themselves to get ready for the team that was fishing in the nearby lake. The tinder at the base of the pyramid shaped logs started to glow with faint orange sparks. 

“Wait, let me see!” Ace said, pushing over to crouch down. He formed a tunnel with his hands, blowing through to try and push more oxygen to the fire. 

“Wait, no!” Deuce protested. “You’re going to blow it out!” 

“No way, you do this to make it catch!” 

The two started shoving each other out of the way. The sparks fizzled and faded, the two boys slumping over in defeat. 

“How is this so hard?” Deuce groaned. 

“Seriously,” Ace said, rubbing the back of his head. “How do you even do this without magic?” 

“Done!” (Y/N) chirped. They whipped around to see a proud (Y/N) standing above a roaring campfire. Grim cheered, holding a skewer with a fish at the end over the blaze. 

“Wha-? How did you do that?” Ace said. 

“Ramshackle doesn't have any heating,” (Y/N) said. She put her hands around Grim’s shoulders, pushing him back a little away from the flames. “But we do have plenty of fireplaces. You learn new skills pretty quick when it means not freezing to death.” 

“That’s… useful?” Deuce said. 

“Hey, let us steal some of it!” Ace said. He poked a stick at her fire, sending up sparks as the logs were jostled out of place. 

“Pretty sure that’s cheating,” (Y/N) said. 

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask,” Ace replied with a smirk. The end of his stick caught fire and he quickly shoved it into the center of his and Deuce’s. They both watched it, enraptured, as the kindling started to smolder before smoking out. (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at their defeated expressions. 

“Come on,” She said, waving at her own fire. “I’ll tell Coach Vargus we all worked on this one.” 

“Isn’t that cheating, too?” Ace asked. 

“Oh, so now you have a conscience?” 

Ace waved her comment away. The small group huddled around the fire, holding their hands out to catch some of its warmth. 

“Man, I’m starting to get hungry,” Deuce said. “What I would give for one of those egg sandwiches from the cafeteria.” 

“I’d kill for an ice coffee,” Ace agreed. 

“Well, it’s nothing as fancy as that, but we can roast some of the fish we caught earlier. Wish we had some salt and lemon for it, but - wait, Grim!? When did you eat all our fish?” 

“Isn’t that what it’s there for?” Grim said, unrepentant, licking his paws. 

“We still needed that to prove to Coach that we caught some! Otherwise he won’t count our win for the fishing challenge.” 

“You should probably hurry,” Deuce said. “The sun’s starting to get low. With everyone else there all day the fish might be scared off.” 

“Well, twist my arm, why don’t you?” Ace said, pushing himself up. “Come on, I’ll help you fish.” 

(Y/N) took his outstretched hand as he helped her up. “Oh, what a noble sacrifice, Sir Trappola. Your gracious deed will be sung of in legends for generations to come.” 

Deuce looked after them. The sun caught around their hair, forming halos. Ace made some comment he couldn’t hear, (Y/N) smiling and shoving him. She looked up and away at something in the tree. But Ace’s gaze stayed on her. His sarcastic expression changed into something else, something harder to pin down. As (Y/N) turned back to him, he snapped back to his usual self, both of them disappearing behind the bend in the road to the lake. 

Deuce frowned, looking after them. “He looked her way and I thought I saw…” He shook his head. “That’s new and a bit… alarming.” 

~~~

The glittering windows of the indoor mall of Maquillaville proudly promoted all manner of luxury products. (Y/N) twirled around, admiring the jewel like displays as well as the new clothes Vil had acquired for all of them. 

“Isn’t this all amazing?” She said, clasping her hands together. 

“Yeah, a real scream.” 

(Y/N) turned to Ace’s grumbling tone, hiding her smile behind her hand at him. Ace was loaded down with a veritable mountain of colorful shopping bags, each emblazoned with logos from shops where a simple pair of socks would probably cost more than (Y/N) would ever make in a year.

“Ugh,” Ace complained. “I think my spine is permanently bent.” 

“Don’t let Coach Vargis hear that,” (Y/N) said. “He’ll give you a lecture on how you need to work on your core muscle strength.” 

Ace suddenly stood up straight, holding his bags out like free weights. “I was just kidding! I’m so strong stuff like this is nothing!” 

“Good to hear,” Vil said behind them, dumping another round on bags in Ace’s waiting arms. “We still have a few more stops before dinner. You’re able to keep up, aren’t you?” 

“Here, let me help,” (Y/N) said with a laugh, taking a stack of boxes Ace was struggling to keep upright. The two first years walked a few paces behind Vil, Azul, and Jamil, who were much less burdened. 

Every once and a while, a fan would come up, asking Vil for an autograph. He would graciously smile, sign whatever they had, then make pleasant excuses to usher the group away before a crowd of admirers had a chance to form. Surprisingly, the rest of them weren’t immune from this phenomenon. A pair of girls had tried to sneakily take a picture of Jamil as they stopped at a sweet shop, and Azul had been asked for an autograph as well. The magnetism of just being around a star like Vil, not to mention their new threads, made them seem like stars themselves. 

As the three upperclassmen went into a store, Ace unceremoniously dropped his bags. He exaggerated stretching his back out, looking sideways to make sure (Y/N) had laughed at his hyperbolic pain. 

“Excuse me,” A small voice came from behind them. Ace turned around to see too fashionably dressed girls standing in front of him. “Can we take a picture with you, please?” 

“Me?” Ace asked, pointing to himself. “I mean, yeah, sure, why not?” 

The two lit up. One of them grabbed Ace’s arm, pulling him in close, making him blush and look over for (Y/N)’s reaction. She was busy with the other girl who had shoved her phone at her, asking her to take the picture. 

“Alright,” (Y/N) said, awkwardly holding the phone up. “Say ‘Cheese.’” 

“Cheese!” The two girls said, pushing themselves close to Ace. (Y/N) could tell his smile was forced. He kept moving his hands, not quite knowing what to do with them, hovering in the air just above their shoulders. They girls giggled as they thanked Ace, not bothering to throw (Y/N) a second glance. 

“That was weird,” Ace said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sort of,” (Y/N) said. “They probably thought you were a celebrity here for the movie premier. Or maybe they just wanted a picture with a cute boy.” 

“Cute-?!” Ace sputtered. “Come on, (Y/N) you can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere.” 

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?” She brushed her hand along his hair, pushing back a few locks that he had ruffled out of place. “It’s fun to see you dressed up to the nines every once and a while.” 

He pushed her hands away with a wide grin. “Yeah, well, I guess you clean up pretty good, too.” 

(Y/N) held up her ghost camera, holding it up at various angles and circling, mimicking the various paparazzi that had been waiting for Vil around town. “Mr. Trappola, Mr. Trappola! Over here! Can we get a picture? Give us an interview! Who are you wearing? Are you going with anyone to the premier?” Ace dropped the shopping bags, posing in dramatic and exaggerated poses. Both of them broke out into giggles between shots. 

From across the hall,  the three upperclassmen had just stepped out of the store, watching the two first years.“Honestly,” Vil said. “Is it too much to ask for focus while I step away for five minutes?” 

“Is it really that much of a surprise?” Jamil said. “We probably should have expected something like this after he, ahem, won the lottery.” 

“How touching,” Azul said with a hand to his chest.”You know, as upperclassmen, we should, how should I put it? Encourage those younger than us, yes?” 

Jamil matched Azul’s sly look. “I see what you mean. Maybe Ace deserves a little chat from his betters, yes?” 

Vil smacked them both with one of his shopping bags. “Oh, leave them alone. I’m more surprised (Y/N) is falling for any of this.” 

“Falling for it?” Jamil asked. 

“He’s mean and coarse and unrefined,” Vil said. Looking back at them, his face softened with something almost like adoration. “Although, I suppose there is something there that wasn’t there before.” 

“Oh?” Azul said, voice full of faux sympathy. “And what’s that, exactly?” 

Vil rolled his eyes. “I knew this was a mistake.” He waved over at Ace and (Y/N). “You two! Enough dawdling! We have plenty to do.” 

He watched as Ace exaggerated a sigh, hefting the bags up as if they were filled with bricks. (Y/N) giggled, taking a few of them from him to lighten the load. 

Turning, Vil couldn’t help smiling to himself. “Really, who would have ever thought that this could be?” 

~~~

Ace whistled as he cut a slice of cherry pie in the Heartstabuyl kitchen. He had begged his mom to send him her old recipe, the one she used to make pies for his birthday for years. He’d made it himself, with only a few tips and suggestions from Trey watching over his shoulder. He’d left (Y/N) in one of the dorm tea rooms. He’d invited her over to study, but even after they had been here for almost an hour, waiting for the pie to bake, they had barely gone through two pages of their textbook. He scooped up the two plates, holding them up like a fancy waiter, and headed back to the tea room. 

“Alright,” Ace said, pushing the door open as he walked backward into the tea room. “One piece of Trappola famous cherry pie coming right-” He froze as he took in (Y/N)’s tear stained face. She was standing, worrying her hands together and staring at a red stain on the once pristine white couch. 

“I started my period,” She choked out. “I didn’t realize so I must have bled through my skirt and on to the couch and now it’s stained and Riddle is going to be furious and this is so embarrassing and - oh my god!” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. 

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey!” Ace said, quickly putting the pie on a table and rushing over to her. “It’s okay! Come on, we’re two smart people, right? We can fix this. There’s probably some kind of cleaning solution or something around here. Or can we cover it up? I wonder if that color changing spell would work. Oh, wait! Here.” He quickly shrugged out of this jacket, slinging it around (Y/N) to tie around her waist. “There, see? That’s one problem down already.” 

(Y/N) hiccuped another sob, rubbing at her teary eyes with the heel of her hand. “I-” 

They both froze as they heard Riddle’s voice coming from down the hall. A second later, the handle of the door clicked as it was pushed open. 

Two very important things happened all at once within the span of the next breath. First, the door to the sitting room opened, revealing Riddle, Cater, and Trey. Second, Ace snatched up the plates of pie from the table, upending them and smushing the bursting red cherries into the white couch. 

The very air seemed to freeze in the room. The three upperclassmen stared at Ace, Riddle’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

Standing up and dusting his hands, Ace smiled wide and said, “Oops! My fault! Sorry about that, Housewarden, I’ll - Ack!” Riddle’s signature spell hit him so hard Ace fell back hard on his rear end. 

(Y/N) gasped. Riddle was turning as red as the stained couch, standing over Ace on his dagger like high heels and ranting while the other boy stared down at the floor. 

“No, wait-” (Y/N) started. 

“Man, I’m such a clutz sometimes, right, (Y/N)?” Ace cut her off, rolling his eyes dramatically as if he didn’t have a care in the world and the collar around his neck was no more an inconvenience than an itchy bug bite. “Seriously, I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes.” 

Riddle grabbed the lock-shaped collar and yanked Ace back around. “If you would listen for once in your life-!” Riddle continued. 

Trey had quickly run over to a cabinet in the corner of the room, pulling out cleaning supplies and hand towels. He started scraping off chunks of pie from the couch, trying to salvage it as much as he could. Cater slowly pocketed his phone, looking between each of them before his gaze settled on (Y/N). He smiled in that reassuring, big brother, Magicam perfect way and came over to her, gently taking her arm. 

“Hey, have you seen the new topiary in the garden?” Cater said, pulling her away from the scene of the crime. “We had them shaped like bunnies!” He quickly ushered her out of the room, ignoring her protests. Instead of heading outside, Cater brought her to the dorm bathroom. “Do you have any supplies with you?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, embarrassed. “How do you…?” 

“I have sisters, you know? Guessing that has something to do with the couch, right? No, don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. So, do you have anything? I can go grab something if you want.” 

“No, that’s okay. I think I do.” She dug through her bag and headed into the bathroom. 

Cater pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Trey. “Don’t let Riddle go too hard on Ace, okay? People do stupid things when they’re trying to impress someone they like.” He looked up as the bathroom door opened, (Y/N) whipping her wet hands on her skirt. Cater directed her outside to the gardens, although he couldn’t help note her worried and longing glances back to the sitting room.

“Why did he do that?” (Y/N) asked in a small voice. 

Cater hummed. He pulled at the sleeve of Ace’s jacket she still had wrapped around her waist.  “Well, it’s true he’s no Prince Charming. But I think Ace likes being your white knight sometimes, you know?” 

~~~

The Disamonia dorm was quiet as everyone slowly started to wake from Malleus’s Overblot. Everyone awake started rousing the others, pulling away thorny vines and helping sleep addled students sit up. 

Ace was sitting against the cool stone wall of the dorm sitting room, knees up, head leaning back, and eyes closed. Sure, they had been asleep for all of the actual action, but his heart was still speeding along as if they’d had a brutal brawl in real life. His eyes cracked open a little as (Y/N) came to sit down next to him. 

“You know,” (Y/N) said, knocking her shoulder gently against Ace’s. “You were the only person who had me in their dream.” 

Ace looked away and blushed. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Your dream was an endless summer vacation. No responsibilities, no one to answer to, just perfect sunny days with people you care about. And I was there. It could have just been a tropical paradise, but your dream specifically included a way for me to be happy. For a world that was supposed to be all about you, that’s interesting, right?” 

“Yeah, I mean,” Ace said. He still wouldn’t look at her, face turning red as he rubbed the back of his head. “Feels like I’m always taking care of you anyway. Must have gotten stuck in my subconscious.” 

(Y/N) hummed. “It was really sweet.” She shuffled closer. “All this time I think it’s been in the back of my mind, but I’ve never really noticed. You’re always doing that kind of stuff for me, aren’t you? You joke about having to come to my rescue, taking care of me, but I guess you’re kind of right. But maybe I like that. Maybe I just want an excuse to keep you closer to me.” She was quiet for a moment. “Even if it doesn't work out, even if I’m never able to go back to my original world, I think I’d be okay. I mean, I’d be sad, of course. I miss so many people and things back there. Seriously, you have no idea what I’d do for a Dr. Pepper right now. But, I mean, here, in this world, I’ve seen so many amazing things. There’s magic and adventure and danger and beauty I could never have dreamed of. And, of course, there’s you.” Ace jerked up, looking at her with wide eyes. “And I think that makes everything worth it.” 

Before either of them could think too hard about it, before they could say another word, (Y/N) leaned forward, kissing Ace. His eyes widened in surprise before fluttering closed. Tension melted out of his shoulders and he leaned closer, bringing up a hand to cradle the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. (Y/N)’s hand clutched at his shirt, pulling him ever closer. 

“Oh, no!” Epel said. They jolted apart, surprised and suddenly remembering they weren’t the only people in the room. “I did not just go through all of that just to wake up and watch you two make out!” 

“Oh, lay off,” Leona said. “It’s about time. Better than watching that one be all moon-eyed all school year.” 

“Hey!” Ace protested, but his grip on (Y/N)’s hand didn’t falter. “I am not ‘moon-eyed’!” 

(Y/N) laughed, wrapping her arms around Ace’s shoulders and burying her face in his chest. Ace humphed, turning red, his hand going up to rub against her back, hugging her closer. 

“Ace?” She said quietly. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” He said nervously. 

“I’m really glad you’re here. I’m just sorry I didn’t see it there before.” 

“See what?” 

In reply, she kissed him again.

[gloriousdreamerland]

Something There That Wasn't There Before (Ace x Reader)

Summary: Five times other people noticed Ace was hopelessly in love with you, and one time you did.

AN: I've had a couple other WIPs that have absolutely been kicking my butt, so I needed a break to write something fun and short. I remember early on in TWST a lot of people had a theory that Ace was going to be a traitor or something, and then book 7 happened.

Warnings: AFAB reader she/her pronouns, menstration and blood briefly, fluff, best friends to lovers, does this count as a song fic?

Cross posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Light streamed in through the large windows of Ramshackle dorm, catching the delicately floating dust mots in the air. It probably would have been considered a peaceful morning, if not for the loud banging on the front door that immediately shattered the blissful quiet. 

“Seriously, Ace? Again?” (Y/N) huffed without any real malice, hands on her hips. “You’re going to get a permanent mark around your neck at this point.” 

Ace scowled and looked away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the evidence of Riddle’s signature spell locked firmly around his neck. 

“I’m going to transfer dorms this time, I mean it,” Ace said, waltzing into Ramshackle without waiting for an invitation. Not that it really mattered, anyway. Everyone in Night Raven College knew that if you were trying to find Ace Trappola, the Prefect’s dilapidated dorm was a good place to start. 

(Y/N) followed Ace as he strode purposefully through the hall to the sitting room, flopping down on the couch with his hands behind his head. “Seriously,” She said. “You get collared so often I think your kids are going to be born with one around their neck.” 

Ace smirked up at her. “Do you think about my kids a lot, (Y/N)?” He laughed as (Y/N) scowled and kicked his crossed legs.  

“Whatever. I’ll make some more eggs. Do you want juice or coffee?” 

With a winning smirk, Ace jumped up and followed her, not unlike a particularly fond puppy, into the kitchen. 

“He better not eat all my eggs,” Grim grumbled from the banister where he and the Ramshackle ghosts had been watching the exchange. “Last time he came for breakfast he took my waffles!” 

“Hadn’t you already had five by that point?” Ezra, the thin and almost skeletal ghost, asked. 

“That’s not the point!” 

“Oh, it’s best to leave them be,” Phineas, the midsized ghost, said. 

Gus, the rotund ghost, picked up Grim, not without due complaints, and the group hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, spying on the two. Ace said something that made (Y/N) laugh, grinning victoriously as she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to hide her smile. She thumped his chest with her spatula. The observant ghosts noticed that she had made Ace’s plate of breakfast different according to his specific tastes without having needed to ask. 

“Ah,” Phineas said. “It’s it a joy to watch it bloom right in front of your eyes? I’d almost forgotten what it’s like.” 

“Oh, of course, of course,” Gus said, holding Grim and scratching behind his ears to distract him. “I can see it clear as day.” 

“Mra?” Grim asked, trying not to lose himself in the pleasant scratching sensation. “See what?” 

“There’s something sweet,” Ezra said. “And almost kind.” 

“There’s certainly something there that wasn’t there before,” Phineas concluded with a definitive nod. 

“What?” Grim shouted, extracting himself from the ghost’s arms. “What’s there?” 

The three gave each other knowing looks. “We’ll tell you when you’re older, Grimmie.” 

~~~ 

Ace gnashed his teeth as the basketball bounced uselessly off the basket rim. It was his fourth time missing an easy basket during club practice that day and the annoying itch of being off his game was starting to get at him. 

Coach Vargus blew his whistle, waving everyone off the court for a water break. Ace drank in large gulps from his water bottle, rolling his shoulders to try and shake off whatever funk he was stuck in. He jumped as a freezing cold and wet sensation pressed against his neck. He whipped around his see Floyd glaring down at him, his normal sharp toothed grin pulled into an annoyed frown. 

“Geez, Crabby,” Floyd said. “You’re making a mess out there, and not the fun kind.” 

Ace shoved Floyd’s water bottle away. “Lay off, I’m fine.” 

“You’re not,” Jamil said, sitting down on the bleachers and looking at the two sideways. “And it’s affecting the rest of us. So whatever’s going on, get it together.” 

Ace swatted at the air as if trying to bat away their comments like flies. “I told you I’m fine! It’s not my fault some people just want to fly off the handle at every little joke.” He frowned and muttered under this breath, “She knew I was just joking, right?” 

Jamil and Floyd shared a look, both knowing there was really only one ‘she’ Ace could be referring to. 

“Girl trouble?” Floyd teased. 

“Knock it off! It’s not like that!” 

“So then what is it ‘like,’ then?” Jamil asked, crossing his arms. 

“It’s just a misunderstanding, stop prying.” 

“Well, if it’s that easy, you have a chance to clear it up now. “ Jamil pointed to the door of the gym. Ace jumped straight to attention as he saw (Y/N) walk in, looking around. She caught his eye and smiled shyly, lifting her hand in an uncertain wave. 

Floyd slapped Ace on the back. “Go get ‘em, Crabby!” 

Ace rubbed his sore shoulder, glaring back at the two while jogging over to (Y/N). “Uh, hi.” 

“Hi,” She said back. “Practice going well?” 

“It’s… fine.” 

They both didn’t say anything for a second, before speaking at the same time. 

“Look, I wanted to-”

“I just wanted to tell you that-” 

They both stopped trying to allow the other to speak first. “Go - go ahead,” Ace said nervously. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said, fiddling with her fingers and looking down. “It’s just - I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I’m making a ton of progress with classes and everything, and then someone says something that makes me remember I don’t even know the most basic information of this world, and then it all comes crashing down and I feel like I haven’t made any progress at all. But I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It was childish and I know you weren’t trying to be mean or anything. I’m sorry.” 

Ace’s already flushed face turned even redder. He looked away, pulling up the collar of his jersey to cover the lower half of his face, pretending like he was wiping sweat away. “I, uh, yeah, no, I get it. I’m, uh, I’m sorry too. I keep forgetting you’re not, like, from here and don’t know everything. You know I don’t really mean it when I say that kind of stuff, right? Not to you, anyway.” 

“Right, I get it. I guess I need to get thicker skin.” 

“No, it was my fault, totally! You’re doing great with everything, more than great! Seriously, you got to just ignore me half the time.” Ace bit his tongue before he could feel himself start to babble more. 

She smiled at him and he felt his heart speed up like he was in the middle of practice again. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, no problem.” 

From back at the bleachers, Floyd and Jamil eavesdropped on the pair’s conversation. “Aww,” Floyd teased, elbowing Jamil. “You think they’re going to kiss and make up?” 

Jamil pushed his hand away. “Don’t get in the middle of stuff that doesn't involve you.”  

“It’s cute though, right? Look how embarrassed Crabby is getting.” 

“Yes,” Jamil said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “He’s a dear.” 

“Come on, look at them!” Floyd waved his hand, the subject of their observation oblivious. They were standing just an inch too close to each other given the situation, both locked on the other as if they were the only people in the gym, on campus, on Sage’s Island, in the world. (Y/N) laughed at something he said, snapping Ace out of his focus. He blushed hard again, looking away and covering his face with his hand to try and disguise it. “Poor Crabby’s so unsure.” 

Jamil sat up straighter, mouth dropping slightly open and eyes wide. He shook his head, ignoring Floyd’s knowing look. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it there before.” 

For the second half of practice, Ace scored six baskets. 

~~~ 

It was a perfect spring day. The sun was warm, the sky a robin’s egg blue, and a cool wind swirled around the campsite in the forest surrounding Night Raven College. The newly christened Camp Vargus was in full swing, students running from task to task to try and meet the requirements necessary to keep their club from being shut down. 

“Wait, wait! I think I’ve got it!” Deuce yelled in excitement. He was on his hands and knees, leaning down way too close to the base of an unlit campfire. Forbidden from using magic, their group had to start a fire themselves to get ready for the team that was fishing in the nearby lake. The tinder at the base of the pyramid shaped logs started to glow with faint orange sparks. 

“Wait, let me see!” Ace said, pushing over to crouch down. He formed a tunnel with his hands, blowing through to try and push more oxygen to the fire. 

“Wait, no!” Deuce protested. “You’re going to blow it out!” 

“No way, you do this to make it catch!” 

The two started shoving each other out of the way. The sparks fizzled and faded, the two boys slumping over in defeat. 

“How is this so hard?” Deuce groaned. 

“Seriously,” Ace said, rubbing the back of his head. “How do you even do this without magic?” 

“Done!” (Y/N) chirped. They whipped around to see a proud (Y/N) standing above a roaring campfire. Grim cheered, holding a skewer with a fish at the end over the blaze. 

“Wha-? How did you do that?” Ace said. 

“Ramshackle doesn't have any heating,” (Y/N) said. She put her hands around Grim’s shoulders, pushing him back a little away from the flames. “But we do have plenty of fireplaces. You learn new skills pretty quick when it means not freezing to death.” 

“That’s… useful?” Deuce said. 

“Hey, let us steal some of it!” Ace said. He poked a stick at her fire, sending up sparks as the logs were jostled out of place. 

“Pretty sure that’s cheating,” (Y/N) said. 

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask,” Ace replied with a smirk. The end of his stick caught fire and he quickly shoved it into the center of his and Deuce’s. They both watched it, enraptured, as the kindling started to smolder before smoking out. (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at their defeated expressions. 

“Come on,” She said, waving at her own fire. “I’ll tell Coach Vargus we all worked on this one.” 

“Isn’t that cheating, too?” Ace asked. 

“Oh, so now you have a conscience?” 

Ace waved her comment away. The small group huddled around the fire, holding their hands out to catch some of its warmth. 

“Man, I’m starting to get hungry,” Deuce said. “What I would give for one of those egg sandwiches from the cafeteria.” 

“I’d kill for an ice coffee,” Ace agreed. 

“Well, it’s nothing as fancy as that, but we can roast some of the fish we caught earlier. Wish we had some salt and lemon for it, but - wait, Grim!? When did you eat all our fish?” 

“Isn’t that what it’s there for?” Grim said, unrepentant, licking his paws. 

“We still needed that to prove to Coach that we caught some! Otherwise he won’t count our win for the fishing challenge.” 

“You should probably hurry,” Deuce said. “The sun’s starting to get low. With everyone else there all day the fish might be scared off.” 

“Well, twist my arm, why don’t you?” Ace said, pushing himself up. “Come on, I’ll help you fish.” 

(Y/N) took his outstretched hand as he helped her up. “Oh, what a noble sacrifice, Sir Trappola. Your gracious deed will be sung of in legends for generations to come.” 

Deuce looked after them. The sun caught around their hair, forming halos. Ace made some comment he couldn’t hear, (Y/N) smiling and shoving him. She looked up and away at something in the tree. But Ace’s gaze stayed on her. His sarcastic expression changed into something else, something harder to pin down. As (Y/N) turned back to him, he snapped back to his usual self, both of them disappearing behind the bend in the road to the lake. 

Deuce frowned, looking after them. “He looked her way and I thought I saw…” He shook his head. “That’s new and a bit… alarming.” 

~~~

The glittering windows of the indoor mall of Maquillaville proudly promoted all manner of luxury products. (Y/N) twirled around, admiring the jewel like displays as well as the new clothes Vil had acquired for all of them. 

���Isn’t this all amazing?” She said, clasping her hands together. 

“Yeah, a real scream.” 

(Y/N) turned to Ace’s grumbling tone, hiding her smile behind her hand at him. Ace was loaded down with a veritable mountain of colorful shopping bags, each emblazoned with logos from shops where a simple pair of socks would probably cost more than (Y/N) would ever make in a year.

“Ugh,” Ace complained. “I think my spine is permanently bent.” 

“Don’t let Coach Vargis hear that,” (Y/N) said. “He’ll give you a lecture on how you need to work on your core muscle strength.” 

Ace suddenly stood up straight, holding his bags out like free weights. “I was just kidding! I’m so strong stuff like this is nothing!” 

“Good to hear,” Vil said behind them, dumping another round on bags in Ace’s waiting arms. “We still have a few more stops before dinner. You’re able to keep up, aren’t you?” 

“Here, let me help,” (Y/N) said with a laugh, taking a stack of boxes Ace was struggling to keep upright. The two first years walked a few paces behind Vil, Azul, and Jamil, who were much less burdened. 

Every once and a while, a fan would come up, asking Vil for an autograph. He would graciously smile, sign whatever they had, then make pleasant excuses to usher the group away before a crowd of admirers had a chance to form. Surprisingly, the rest of them weren’t immune from this phenomenon. A pair of girls had tried to sneakily take a picture of Jamil as they stopped at a sweet shop, and Azul had been asked for an autograph as well. The magnetism of just being around a star like Vil, not to mention their new threads, made them seem like stars themselves. 

As the three upperclassmen went into a store, Ace unceremoniously dropped his bags. He exaggerated stretching his back out, looking sideways to make sure (Y/N) had laughed at his hyperbolic pain. 

“Excuse me,” A small voice came from behind them. Ace turned around to see too fashionably dressed girls standing in front of him. “Can we take a picture with you, please?” 

“Me?” Ace asked, pointing to himself. “I mean, yeah, sure, why not?” 

The two lit up. One of them grabbed Ace’s arm, pulling him in close, making him blush and look over for (Y/N)’s reaction. She was busy with the other girl who had shoved her phone at her, asking her to take the picture. 

“Alright,” (Y/N) said, awkwardly holding the phone up. “Say ‘Cheese.’” 

“Cheese!” The two girls said, pushing themselves close to Ace. (Y/N) could tell his smile was forced. He kept moving his hands, not quite knowing what to do with them, hovering in the air just above their shoulders. They girls giggled as they thanked Ace, not bothering to throw (Y/N) a second glance. 

“That was weird,” Ace said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sort of,” (Y/N) said. “They probably thought you were a celebrity here for the movie premier. Or maybe they just wanted a picture with a cute boy.” 

“Cute-?!” Ace sputtered. “Come on, (Y/N) you can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere.” 

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?” She brushed her hand along his hair, pushing back a few locks that he had ruffled out of place. “It’s fun to see you dressed up to the nines every once and a while.” 

He pushed her hands away with a wide grin. “Yeah, well, I guess you clean up pretty good, too.” 

(Y/N) held up her ghost camera, holding it up at various angles and circling, mimicking the various paparazzi that had been waiting for Vil around town. “Mr. Trappola, Mr. Trappola! Over here! Can we get a picture? Give us an interview! Who are you wearing? Are you going with anyone to the premier?” Ace dropped the shopping bags, posing in dramatic and exaggerated poses. Both of them broke out into giggles between shots. 

From across the hall,  the three upperclassmen had just stepped out of the store, watching the two first years.“Honestly,” Vil said. “Is it too much to ask for focus while I step away for five minutes?” 

“Is it really that much of a surprise?” Jamil said. “We probably should have expected something like this after he, ahem, won the lottery.” 

“How touching,” Azul said with a hand to his chest.”You know, as upperclassmen, we should, how should I put it? Encourage those younger than us, yes?” 

Jamil matched Azul’s sly look. “I see what you mean. Maybe Ace deserves a little chat from his betters, yes?” 

Vil smacked them both with one of his shopping bags. “Oh, leave them alone. I’m more surprised (Y/N) is falling for any of this.” 

“Falling for it?” Jamil asked. 

“He’s mean and coarse and unrefined,” Vil said. Looking back at them, his face softened with something almost like adoration. “Although, I suppose there is something there that wasn’t there before.” 

“Oh?” Azul said, voice full of faux sympathy. “And what’s that, exactly?” 

Vil rolled his eyes. “I knew this was a mistake.” He waved over at Ace and (Y/N). “You two! Enough dawdling! We have plenty to do.” 

He watched as Ace exaggerated a sigh, hefting the bags up as if they were filled with bricks. (Y/N) giggled, taking a few of them from him to lighten the load. 

Turning, Vil couldn’t help smiling to himself. “Really, who would have ever thought that this could be?” 

~~~

Ace whistled as he cut a slice of cherry pie in the Heartstabuyl kitchen. He had begged his mom to send him her old recipe, the one she used to make pies for his birthday for years. He’d made it himself, with only a few tips and suggestions from Trey watching over his shoulder. He’d left (Y/N) in one of the dorm tea rooms. He’d invited her over to study, but even after they had been here for almost an hour, waiting for the pie to bake, they had barely gone through two pages of their textbook. He scooped up the two plates, holding them up like a fancy waiter, and headed back to the tea room. 

“Alright,” Ace said, pushing the door open as he walked backward into the tea room. “One piece of Trappola famous cherry pie coming right-” He froze as he took in (Y/N)’s tear stained face. She was standing, worrying her hands together and staring at a red stain on the once pristine white couch. 

“I started my period,” She choked out. “I didn’t realize so I must have bled through my skirt and on to the couch and now it’s stained and Riddle is going to be furious and this is so embarrassing and - oh my god!” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. 

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey!” Ace said, quickly putting the pie on a table and rushing over to her. “It’s okay! Come on, we’re two smart people, right? We can fix this. There’s probably some kind of cleaning solution or something around here. Or can we cover it up? I wonder if that color changing spell would work. Oh, wait! Here.” He quickly shrugged out of this jacket, slinging it around (Y/N) to tie around her waist. “There, see? That’s one problem down already.” 

(Y/N) hiccuped another sob, rubbing at her teary eyes with the heel of her hand. “I-” 

They both froze as they heard Riddle’s voice coming from down the hall. A second later, the handle of the door clicked as it was pushed open. 

Two very important things happened all at once within the span of the next breath. First, the door to the sitting room opened, revealing Riddle, Cater, and Trey. Second, Ace snatched up the plates of pie from the table, upending them and smushing the bursting red cherries into the white couch. 

The very air seemed to freeze in the room. The three upperclassmen stared at Ace, Riddle’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

Standing up and dusting his hands, Ace smiled wide and said, “Oops! My fault! Sorry about that, Housewarden, I’ll - Ack!” Riddle’s signature spell hit him so hard Ace fell back hard on his rear end. 

(Y/N) gasped. Riddle was turning as red as the stained couch, standing over Ace on his dagger like high heels and ranting while the other boy stared down at the floor. 

“No, wait-” (Y/N) started. 

“Man, I’m such a clutz sometimes, right, (Y/N)?” Ace cut her off, rolling his eyes dramatically as if he didn’t have a care in the world and the collar around his neck was no more an inconvenience than an itchy bug bite. “Seriously, I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes.” 

Riddle grabbed the lock-shaped collar and yanked Ace back around. “If you would listen for once in your life-!” Riddle continued. 

Trey had quickly run over to a cabinet in the corner of the room, pulling out cleaning supplies and hand towels. He started scraping off chunks of pie from the couch, trying to salvage it as much as he could. Cater slowly pocketed his phone, looking between each of them before his gaze settled on (Y/N). He smiled in that reassuring, big brother, Magicam perfect way and came over to her, gently taking her arm. 

“Hey, have you seen the new topiary in the garden?” Cater said, pulling her away from the scene of the crime. “We had them shaped like bunnies!” He quickly ushered her out of the room, ignoring her protests. Instead of heading outside, Cater brought her to the dorm bathroom. “Do you have any supplies with you?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, embarrassed. “How do you…?” 

“I have sisters, you know? Guessing that has something to do with the couch, right? No, don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. So, do you have anything? I can go grab something if you want.” 

“No, that’s okay. I think I do.” She dug through her bag and headed into the bathroom. 

Cater pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Trey. “Don’t let Riddle go too hard on Ace, okay? People do stupid things when they’re trying to impress someone they like.” He looked up as the bathroom door opened, (Y/N) whipping her wet hands on her skirt. Cater directed her outside to the gardens, although he couldn’t help note her worried and longing glances back to the sitting room.

“Why did he do that?” (Y/N) asked in a small voice. 

Cater hummed. He pulled at the sleeve of Ace’s jacket she still had wrapped around her waist.  “Well, it’s true he’s no Prince Charming. But I think Ace likes being your white knight sometimes, you know?” 

~~~

The Disamonia dorm was quiet as everyone slowly started to wake from Malleus’s Overblot. Everyone awake started rousing the others, pulling away thorny vines and helping sleep addled students sit up. 

Ace was sitting against the cool stone wall of the dorm sitting room, knees up, head leaning back, and eyes closed. Sure, they had been asleep for all of the actual action, but his heart was still speeding along as if they’d had a brutal brawl in real life. His eyes cracked open a little as (Y/N) came to sit down next to him. 

“You know,” (Y/N) said, knocking her shoulder gently against Ace’s. “You were the only person who had me in their dream.” 

Ace looked away and blushed. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Your dream was an endless summer vacation. No responsibilities, no one to answer to, just perfect sunny days with people you care about. And I was there. It could have just been a tropical paradise, but your dream specifically included a way for me to be happy. For a world that was supposed to be all about you, that’s interesting, right?” 

“Yeah, I mean,” Ace said. He still wouldn’t look at her, face turning red as he rubbed the back of his head. “Feels like I’m always taking care of you anyway. Must have gotten stuck in my subconscious.” 

(Y/N) hummed. “It was really sweet.” She shuffled closer. “All this time I think it’s been in the back of my mind, but I’ve never really noticed. You’re always doing that kind of stuff for me, aren’t you? You joke about having to come to my rescue, taking care of me, but I guess you’re kind of right. But maybe I like that. Maybe I just want an excuse to keep you closer to me.” She was quiet for a moment. “Even if it doesn't work out, even if I’m never able to go back to my original world, I think I’d be okay. I mean, I’d be sad, of course. I miss so many people and things back there. Seriously, you have no idea what I’d do for a Dr. Pepper right now. But, I mean, here, in this world, I’ve seen so many amazing things. There’s magic and adventure and danger and beauty I could never have dreamed of. And, of course, there’s you.” Ace jerked up, looking at her with wide eyes. “And I think that makes everything worth it.” 

Before either of them could think too hard about it, before they could say another word, (Y/N) leaned forward, kissing Ace. His eyes widened in surprise before fluttering closed. Tension melted out of his shoulders and he leaned closer, bringing up a hand to cradle the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. (Y/N)’s hand clutched at his shirt, pulling him ever closer. 

“Oh, no!” Epel said. They jolted apart, surprised and suddenly remembering they weren’t the only people in the room. “I did not just go through all of that just to wake up and watch you two make out!” 

“Oh, lay off,” Leona said. “It’s about time. Better than watching that one be all moon-eyed all school year.” 

“Hey!” Ace protested, but his grip on (Y/N)’s hand didn’t falter. “I am not ‘moon-eyed’!” 

(Y/N) laughed, wrapping her arms around Ace’s shoulders and burying her face in his chest. Ace humphed, turning red, his hand going up to rub against her back, hugging her closer. 

“Ace?” She said quietly. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” He said nervously. 

“I’m really glad you’re here. I’m just sorry I didn’t see it there before.” 

“See what?” 

In reply, she kissed him again.

[gloriousdreamerland]

“Many people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. And it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, ‘What do I care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.’ Yes, evil often seems to surpass good. But then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.”

— Vincent Van Gogh

[gloriousdreamerland]

Headcanons Shota Aizawa (Eraser Head) falls in love:

Characteristics:

Shota Aizawa, known as Eraser Head, is a stoic, pragmatic, and disciplined pro hero with a no-nonsense attitude. His personality is grounded in logic, and he values efficiency and responsibility, often appearing detached or gruff. If Aizawa were to fall in love, his behavior and emotional journey would likely reflect his core traits while revealing a softer, more vulnerable side that aligns with his understated but deeply caring nature.

Falling in Love:

- Aizawa is not someone who seeks romance or is easily swayed by emotions. Falling in love would likely catch him off guard, and his initial reaction would be one of resistance or denial. He might rationalize his feelings as a distraction from his duties as a hero and teacher, given his strong sense of responsibility toward his students at U.A. High and his role in protecting society.

- Aizawa would wrestle with his feelings, questioning whether pursuing love is practical or worth the risk. His logical mind might analyze the situation excessively, weighing the pros and cons of opening up emotionally.

“This is irrational. I don’t have time for this.”

- Despite his attempts to suppress his feelings, small changes in his behavior would betray him. He might linger a bit longer when talking to the person, show a rare flicker of concern for their safety, or catch himself staring before quickly looking away with his usual deadpan expression.

- Aizawa’s trust issues and reserved demeanor mean he wouldn’t confess his feelings easily. He’d observe the person closely, assessing their character and compatibility while keeping his emotions tightly under wraps.

How He Expresses Love:

- Once Aizawa acknowledges his feelings, his approach to love would be understated, practical, and rooted in actions rather than words. He’s not the type for grand romantic gestures or flowery declarations—his love would manifest in quiet, meaningful ways that reflect his protective and selfless nature.

- Aizawa’s hero instincts would amplify his desire to keep his loved one safe. He might subtly check on their well-being, offer practical advice (e.g., “You should carry a weapon if you’re out late”), or use his connections to ensure they’re not in harm’s way. If they’re a hero, he’d be hyper-vigilant about their safety during missions, though he’d try to mask it as professional concern.

- Aizawa would show affection through small, thoughtful actions. For example, he might bring them coffee when they’re tired, fix something broken in their home, or quietly handle a problem they’re facing without making a fuss. These gestures would be his way of saying, “I care,” without needing to verbalize it.

- In private moments, Aizawa might let his guard down, revealing a softer side. He could share a dry joke, offer a tired smile, or talk about his students with a warmth that hints at his capacity for deep care. These moments would be fleeting but significant, as he rarely opens up to anyone.

- Aizawa would be uncomfortable with public displays of affection. If he’s with his partner in public, he might stand closer than usual or brush their hand subtly, but anything more would feel excessive to him. In private, he’d be more physically affectionate, like resting his head on their shoulder when exhausted or pulling them into a quiet embrace.

Confession:

- Aizawa’s confession would likely be spontaneous, prompted by a high-stakes moment—like after a dangerous mission where he or his love interest nearly gets hurt. He’d blurt it out in a quiet, gruff tone, “I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you.” He’d immediately look away, embarrassed by his own vulnerability.

- He’d choose a low-key, private moment for his confession, perhaps during a late-night conversation at U.A. or while sharing coffee in the teachers’ lounge. The setting would be casual, with no one else around, as he’d hate the idea of an audience.

“You’re… important to me. More than I expected.”

- True to his no-nonsense nature, Aizawa wouldn’t use flowery words. His confession would be direct, almost practical: “I’ve been thinking about you too much. It’s not just respect. It’s more.” His eyes, usually half-lidded with exhaustion, would hold a rare intensity, showing how much he means it.

- Aizawa would struggle with physical expression. He might start to reach for their hand or shoulder but pull back, settling for a lingering gaze instead. If he’s feeling bold, he might brush a strand of hair from their face.

- After confessing, he’d fall silent, waiting for their response with a mix of dread and hope. If they reciprocate, he’d let out a soft exhale, almost like he’s been holding his breath.

“Good. That’s… good.”

Challenges in Love:

- As a pro hero and teacher, Aizawa’s schedule is grueling. Late-night patrols, grading papers, and training his students leave little time for a personal life. His partner would need to be understanding and independent, as he’d struggle to balance his duties with a relationship.

- Aizawa’s reserved nature makes it hard for him to express his feelings openly. His partner might feel frustrated by his tendency to bottle up emotions or deflect personal questions with sarcasm or silence. It would take patience and persistence to break through his defenses.

- Given the dangers of his job and the losses he’s likely witnessed, Aizawa might fear getting too close to someone, worried they could be targeted by villains or hurt because of his hero work. This fear could make him hesitant to fully commit, even if he’s deeply in love.

- Aizawa values competence and rationality, so he’d need a partner who can hold their own, whether they’re a hero, civilian, or something else. He’d be drawn to someone who shares his sense of duty or at least respects his commitment to it, but he might unintentionally come across as critical if they don’t meet his expectations.

Aizawa falling in love would be a slow, reluctant process, marked by internal struggle and subtle shifts in his behavior. His love would be expressed through quiet acts of care, fierce protectiveness, and rare moments of vulnerability that reveal the depth of his feelings. While his gruff exterior and demanding lifestyle would pose challenges, his partner would find in him a loyal, dependable, and deeply caring companion who loves with the same intensity he brings to his hero work. For Aizawa, love wouldn’t change who he is—it would simply add a new layer to his already complex heart, making him a better hero, teacher, and man.

[gloriousdreamerland]

Mean Bean

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, smitten Zoro&Perona, set during Zoro's 2 year training (there's relevance to that) jealous Perona, he has a girly daughter because of Perona lol

Summary: Mihawk as a doting girl dad

*other girl dad headcanons*

🫛 Doting Husband and Father Alert lemme just start there lol

🫛This man will cater to your every need don't even doubt or question it

🫛 Pregnancy pain? He'll give you a massage. Cravings? Yup now he's cooking. Feeling emotional? Awe don't worry dear he's down to cuddle when you need it.

🫛 I picture you almost about to give birth by the time Zoro arrives for his training. That gives time for Zoro to see the bond between you too.

🫛When the child is born then Mihawk only gets tougher on Zoro

🫛LEMME EXPLAIN !! This man will fight harder with the young swordsman saying all types of shit like-

"You never know who you're fighting against and what's waiting for them at home. If they have kids and loved ones they will go for the kill to ensure you don't kill them first. They have something, someone waiting for them. So either give it your all or lay down and let them take you out first- always fight like someone is waiting."

🫛 Idk it's probably stupid but now Mihawk has people who care so he only goes harder and in turn will train Zoro the same.

🫛The training will be what makes Zoro such a good dad too don't fight me on this lol

🫛Since Zoro arrived right around the time you deliver he would totally be around the kid alot same with Perona.

🫛Yes she's totally jealous that Mihawk has to further spread his attention elsewhere but when she realizes you have a girl she's over joyed

🫛Perona dresses your baby up like a total doll and Mihawk will just roll his eyes but secretly loves it - how can he not? His baby girl looks so adorable in her frilly dresses and little matching socks.

🫛 Can totally see Mihawk walking around his castle at night with the baby whenever she's being fussy and he knows you need some rest.

🫛 You've totally caught him on occasion asleep with the newborn laying on a blanket by the fireplace (newborns don't move incase y'all think the baby will roll in the fire 🙄)

🫛 Is shocked to see how smiley his baby is compared to his stoic attitude "I guess she takes after you my dear." You'll raise a brow and ask if it's a problem and he'll just caress your cheek fondly, "No my love, merely an observation. If she becomes every bit like you then I'll be the happiest man alive "

🫛 Will catch himself staring far more than he thought he would when you breastfeed (if you breastfeed)

🫛 Loves your changed body and won't let you exert yourself more than you need during recovery

🫛 Will still do all the cooking and cleaning despite your protests

🫛 Breaks up fights between Zoro and Perona on who gets to chill with the baby lol

"You already got to play with her this morning, doing your dumb little fashion shows." Zoro would bark out at the pink haired woman who held your baby. Chubby hands rubbing her eyes making Zoro click his teeth, "Look see- the tiny thing is tired she wants to nap with me. Now hand her over!"

🫛 Despite Perona dressing up your baby Mihawk is also very skilled on keeping your baby in tip top shape. I mean have you seen him? Impeccable style 😏

🫛 When it's time for her to try eating food for the first time Mihawk starts with a veggie. Knowing that kids have the hardest time with them so why not get it out of the way first.

🫛You, Perona, Zoro and Mihawk would literally all gather in the dining room just to watch her eat for the first time lol 😂

🫛 Mihawk will feed her the first time, if you breastfeed then he does the solids. He'll feel like it's finally his time to shine and help out even more lol

🫛 First food of choice? Green beans.

🫛The second that baby tastes the yummy veggie then her sweet demeanor has vanished and she is replaced with something more like her father.

🫛 "AHHHHH! MMMMM! AHHHHHHH!" She would scream at the top of her lungs demanding more in an instant. Hands shaking in the air and face scowling with anger.

"Hurry up fed her faster. Looks like she's gonna explode." Zoro would panic watching your baby throw her body around, legs kicking in the high chair only to stop as Mihawk fed her another spoon. "Mmmm." She would smile for a second then bam! The monster baby returns until the next bite.

🫛 You would call her your little Mean Bean after that

🫛 Demands green beans all the time as she gets older, whatever sweet side she had would disappear when she realized green beans were not served with dinner.

🫛 Mihawk would just sigh as he stares at his child who now looks way more like him than he's used to. "Darling I thought we could try something new." He'll explain and your daughter would side eye him, "Something...new? But why? Is it so wrong that I like what I like? It's still a vegetable." Mihawk would groan as he runs a hand over his face not able to deny the fact she's right.

🫛 Perona would totally have to hide if Mihawk and his mean Bean are bickering cause her laughing at his child's sass only makes things worse.

🫛Mihawk has no idea how she got so stubborn...he will deny that it's from himself

🫛 Like all the other swordsman father he will teach his child the way of the blade only for her to be bored at first.

🫛 "Why can't I wear my dress and fight?" She'll question making the man groan. Ugh all her damn questions! "It's not practical darling." And she'll just glare at him with her arms crossed. "Then I don't wanna." Mihawk will feel like exploding until you pat his shoulder. "Go find one that's easy to move in." You'll suggest.

🫛You definitely have to settle their bickering matches

🫛 You quickly find out he is not the disciplinarian like you'd thought he'd be lol

🫛Mihawk loves his darling but she's a spitfire for sure keeping him on his toes more than he'd like.

🫛His daughter becomes a master with a sword despite dressing like a mini Perona, she definitely changes his mind on the whole dresses and sword fighting

🫛Has a picture of his daughter around a year old scowling angrily with a literal fist full of green beans that Mihawk caught her eating

🫛 Despite there constant bickering it's all with love because you still find them cuddled up with a book in his hands reading to her by the fire. First it was picture books, then simple one sentences now as she grows he reads chapter for chapter each night. The fire lighting them both up beautifully, their expressions soft and free from their usual scowls

🫛 Mihawk would teach his daughter to cook as well but what she had in sword skills she DRASTICALLY lacked in cooking

🫛I'm not talking bland or over seasoned ...no no- I'm talking full on kitchen fires and black bread out the oven. Kitchen engulfed in clouds of smoke as Mihawk sighs putting out fire after fire

🫛Its fine shes to pretty to cook anyways Mihawk would say as an excuse- any man should be happy serving her every need he'll think but deep down he hopes she doesn't starve lol

🫛 When she becomes 16 there bickering matches only worsen fighting tooth and nail for her to join him on his cross guild meetings - which as always he'll cave and allow her to accompany him

🫛 Once she's there Mihawk has to literally PEEL Buggy's son away from his darling lil mean bean - honestly he knew his sweet heart was stunning and expected this but what he never expected was for his daughter to like the little blue haired weirdo right back

🫛 Will have to pull them both apart whenever they're around no doubt

🫛 Once she's an adult the worse words he's ever heard leave her mouth, he thinks he dies for a minute after but you tell him he's just being dramatic

"You can't tell me what to do anymore." And just like that his little mean bean would storm out, leaving him to go join those circus pirates

🫛 You have to console him for a long time, back rubs, cold rags on his forever because he swears he's dying of a fever and as much as you wanna tell him to grow up you know his heart is broken.

🫛 When your daughter returns a year later after sailing the sea with her loser clown boyfriend (Mihawk's description) he has to swallow the flood of insults that threaten to spill as he prepares the clown and the rest of his family dinner.

🫛 You have to pull Mihawk aside and tell him to give Buggy's son a chance because he's really trying to get accepted and honestly he's not nearly as annoying as Buggy himself so he should be happy

🫛 After almost 2 months with the clown boy Mihawk warms up drastically, a whole 180 it surprises both you and your daughter- little did you know he threatened to chop his damn nose off if he ever broke his daughter's heart

🫛 Soon Mihawk has to accept the clown asking for his mean bean's hand in marriage and you and your daughter couldn't be happier-surprisingly Mihawk was as well... that was until Buggy came to visit to help with wedding planning

"This wedding is gonna be so flashy we'll make the whole ocean jealous of our kids."

"Kill me now." Mihawk would groan.

🫛In the end even as he walks his darling down the isle she'll always remain that same stubborn little girl who slammed her chubby fists down demanding more green beans.

"I'll always love you daddy."

"And I'll always love you more mean bean."

[gloriousdreamerland]

Sanji Vinsmoke X Reader

Gimme Some Advice

masterlist

Synopsis: Me when I yearn. Me and I yearn but have a healthy relationship with my friends and knows not to be jealous but still allow myself to feel things

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ You were sprawled out on a sun chair, kicking your legs back and forth and humming a random tune to yourself, still feeling giddy from the delicious meal Sanji had served earlier. Your hair fluttered in the wind, and your bright eyes scanned the open sea until

BAM. “[Y/N]!”

Sanji came flying across the deck like a torpedo, arms flailing for balance as he skidded to a halt in front of you. His shirt was untucked, cigarette barely hanging on his lip, and a wild, borderline panicked look in his eyes. You blinked. “…You okay there, Romeo?”

Sanji bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “I I need your help.”

Your brows lifted with curiosity and amusement. “What, did Luffy eat the last cookie again and you’re plotting revenge?”

“No, this is serious!”

You sat up straighter, suppressing a grin. “Okay, okay. What is it?”

Sanji straightened, brushed back his hair dramatically, and looked at you with those swirly, golden eyes as if he were about to confess some great truth.

“I need you to tell me… how to pull a woman.”

You stared at him.

Then burst into laughter. “I’m sorry what?”

Sanji flushed, his hands flying up. “I know! I know it sounds ridiculous coming from me, but I swear I’m being serious. Dead serious.”

You giggled, slapping a hand over your mouth. “Sanji, my darling, you throw yourself at women like it’s a sport. If flirting were a martial art, you’d be a black belt.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Sanji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It doesn’t work. I mean, not really. They just giggle or wave me off like I’m some harmless breeze. None of them take me seriously. And I I want to be taken seriously. Just once.”

You quieted at that, your expression softening. “Oh, Sanji…”

He sighed, leaning back against the rail, his face turned to the sea. “There’s this girl. Not someone on this ship,” he added quickly, glancing at you. “She’s kind and funny and strong. But when I talk to her, I get so nervous I just default to… you know.”

“the pathetic lover boy routine not enough for you?” you said innocently, batting your lashes.

Sanji shot you a look, lips twitching despite himself. “Yes, that.”

You hopped off the chair and padded toward him, poking his chest lightly. “Okay, lover boy. Let’s get one thing straight: You’re not failing because you flirt. You’re failing because you flirt like a cartoon heart attack. There’s nothing authentic about it..”

He blinked at you. “…Huh?”

You grinned. “There's nothing I'm complaining about, though. I think it's really cute. The best kind of complement is the one that sounds like you didn’t rehearse it a hundred times in the mirror.”

Sanji looked thoughtful. “But what if I mess up? Say something stupid?”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Sanji, you do say something stupid every single time you meet a woman and they still smile at you. Imagine what would happen if you were just… you. The sweet, reliable, passionate, incredible cook who makes the best damn meals on the sea and puts his heart into everything he does.” Sanji’s ears turned pink. You leaned in, voice teasing. “That Sanji? That guy’s dreamy.”

He sputtered, waving smoke away from his cigarette. “S Stop saying things like that. I’m trying to focus!”

You giggled, twirling a lock of your hair. “Fine, fine. You want real advice?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” You folded your arms and nodded. “Step one: Calm down. You don’t need to win someone’s heart in ten seconds. Stop making it a performance and start making it a conversation.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay…”

“Step two: Ask her questions. Not just compliments. Be curious about who she is, not just how she looks.”

“Right…”

“And step three,” you said, tapping his forehead, “don’t chase. Just be. If she likes you, she’ll come closer. And if she doesn’t… you don’t need to change who you are to impress her.”

Sanji looked down at you genuinely, for a moment no exaggerated grin, no dramatic swoon. “You really think that’ll work?”

You smiled warmly. “I know it will. You’ve already got everything you need. You just need to believe someone could fall for you”

He stared at you in silence for a moment. “You’d make a hell of a love doctor, [Y/N].”

“I take payment in dessert,” you winked.

Sanji chuckled softly, then took a final drag of his cigarette and tossed it overboard. “Right away madamoiselle”

You shrugged playfully. “Good boy now go do your thing” As he turned to head back to the kitchen, you called after him, “Sanji?” He glanced back, his usual grin starting to sneak back into place. You smiled. “The right girl? She’ll see you. Just give her the chance.”

He gave you a mock salute. “Then I’ll make sure I’m someone worth seeing.” with that, he vanished into the galley.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The world was quiet tonight. The sea whispered gently against the hull of the Thousand Sunny, and the breeze that swept through the ship’s open deck was crisp, carrying the smell of salt and the faintest trace of spices from the galley below. The crew had all gone off to their own little corners of the ship some reading, some napping, and others chattering softly out of earshot.

You lay in the middle of the main deck, arms stretched out to your sides, eyes wide open to the tapestry of stars overhead. The wind moved through your hair, playing with strands like it was trying to keep you company. But the real comfort came from just a few feet away Brook sat atop a crate, bathed in the soft, swaying light of the lanterns above, his long bony fingers gliding across the strings of his violin.

It wasn’t his usual upbeat, silly melody the ones he played to make Chopper dance or to accompany some skull joke. No, this was something else. Something soft. Thoughtful. The kind of song that didn’t need lyrics to speak. It trickled into your chest like warm tea in cold hands. It held something gentle and aching in every note. You stared at the stars, your lashes still and unmoving. Your chest rose and fell in time with the music. And somewhere between the quiet and the chords, your mind drifted to him.

Sanji.

You let the name echo in your thoughts. You didn’t try to chase it away. You smiled faintly. He had fallen for someone. You didn’t know her. You didn’t need to. You could tell by the way he spoke, by the way he looked different lately. Softer, more grounded. Less dramatic for show, and more… sincere. Like there was someone he genuinely wanted to be better for. And gods, it was so like him. That hopeless romantic heart of his. That constant need to give everything to someone who made his heart flutter.

And you? You had always laughed with him. Teased him when he did his little twirls or dropped to one knee in front of any woman in a ten mile radius. You’d rolled your eyes, called him ridiculous, joked that his flirtations were more extra than Zoro’s vendetta against stairs.

But you’d never said the truth. Not once. That sometimes, when he smiled at you not as a flirt, but just you your heart would skip. That there were moments when you thought maybe… maybe you were the one he’d fall for if he ever took a real chance. But he hadn’t. he was chasing someone else. Someone who made him nervous. You let out a soft breath, eyes still on the stars, a weight pressing gently against your ribs.

It wasn’t a jealous hurt. You were happy for him. Truly. It was just the kind of ache that came from wondering what if. Brook’s melody shifted slightly higher, like a question being asked in the dark. As if he knew.

You didn’t move. You didn’t cry. You just felt. Because it was okay to feel it. To mourn something that was never yours. To lie under the stars and let the music carry the weight of your silence.

you thought of him. Of the way his voice softened when he wasn’t being loud. Of how he always made your plate first when he knew you were having a bad day. Of how, sometimes, you imagined what it would be like if those small gestures were something more. Your fingers curled slightly against the wood. Another breeze passed over you, lifting your hair gently, and you blinked slowly, your gaze still locked on the sky.

The music swelled one last time before fading into the hush of the ocean, Just one song. One quiet night. One unspoken heartache. And then the world was still again. You lay there, unmoving, letting the silence settle. though the ache was still there, something inside you softened too like maybe, even if the story you wanted wasn’t yours, the chapter was still worth feeling.

“Did you know,” Brook began, his voice soft in the night air, “that the stars you see are sometimes already dead?”

You blinked slowly, then smiled, lips barely curving. “That’s… kind of depressing, Brook.”

“Yohoho, perhaps,” he chuckled lightly, “but it’s also strangely beautiful, don’t you think? That something can shine even after it’s gone.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. I guess I like that.”

There was a beat of silence, “Do you think Luffy’s ever tried to eat a star?”

You snorted. “Absolutely. ”

Brook let out a full laugh, his ribs gently rattling with the motion. “I should write that down for a new lyric. ‘I reached for a star and bit down on a dream delicious!’”

You groaned, laughing despite yourself. “That is so cheesy.”

Another comfortable pause settled between you. You listened to the creak of the ship, the soft splash of water against the hull, and the distant thrum of something in the engine room probably Franky still working on some little project with his usual midnight energy.

Brook tilted his skull back. “Do you think fish sleep?”

“I think they have to. Maybe with one eye open. Like Zoro.”

Brook nodded solemnly. “Scary.”

You giggled and rolled over onto your stomach, resting your chin on your forearms. “What about skeletons? Do they sleep?”

Brook tapped his chin. “Hmm… difficult to say. I don’t have eyelids, so I’ve never actually seen myself do it.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“Not as exhausting as trying to take a bath when you don’t have skin.”

“Brook, what ”

“And on the subject of things I can’t do… may I see your panties?”

You stopped. Deadpan. Emotionless. You slowly pushed yourself up from the deck, brushing some hair from your face as you gave him the flattest look in the history of facial expressions.

Brook clasped his hands politely. “it would be such a lovely gesture.”

You pointed toward the hallway with a single, resigned finger. “You’re done.”

He blinked. “Oh?”

“You’re done,” you repeated, standing up and brushing off your clothes. “That’s it. Conversation’s over. Pack it up, skeleton.”

“Wait, my dear! I merely !”

You walked off toward the girls’ quarters without another word, your hand raised in a lazy wave behind you.

“Goodnight, Brook.”

He sighed behind you. “Ah, the pain of rejection. It cuts deeper than the Grand Line’s fog!”

You kept walking, hiding your smile. from behind you, drifting in the sea kissed night, came a final, cheerful:

“Sweet dreams! Yohohohoho!”

You shook your head as the door closed behind you, smiling to yourself. Even heartbreak couldn’t compete with this crew’s ridiculousness.

The soft creak of the ship accompanied your entrance as you returned to the girls’ quarters, your steps light but tired from the long, quiet moment you’d had with Brook on the deck. You rubbed your arms absentmindedly as you passed the threshold, the warm lamplight casting a cozy glow across the room.

Nami was sprawled comfortably on the couch with a drink in hand, her legs tucked under her, a mischievous glint already dancing in her eyes. Robin sat nearby in an armchair, book in hand, but she looked up as you entered.

“There she is,” Nami announced, smirking knowingly as she took another sip. “Have fun with our resident skeleton?”

You plopped down beside her with a hum, grabbing a pillow to hug against your chest. “It was nice. He played something soft. Kinda hit me in the heart a little.”

Robin’s smile deepened slightly. “Brook’s music often does.”

Nami raised a brow. “I have a love hate relationship with that man”

“Well…I couldnt blame you” You grinned. “It got weird eventually. I left before he could ask about my underwear.”

“EW LETS BURN HIM” Nami choked, laughing.

“shhhhh bed time now,” you confirmed, deadpan.

Nami snorted, shaking her head before she shifted back to her earlier topic with Robin, eyes alight with playful mischief. “I’m just saying,” she said, raising her glass again, “whoever this woman is… poor, poor soul. She has no idea what she’s walking into.”

You wheezed, pressing the pillow to your face. “Nami!”

“I mean it!” she cackled. “Can you imagine Sanji not spinning around like a lovesick ballerina the second she smiles at him? He’d probably burst into a heart shaped firework just from holding her hand.”

Robin chuckled behind her book, one elegant brow lifting. “He does tend to be… passionate.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed, eyes watering,

“Don’t forget the nosebleed,” Nami added, clinking her glass in the air.

The room burst into another round of giggles, warm and breathless, echoing softly around the cabin. It felt like home. But then your smile softened. You clutched the pillow a little tighter and leaned back against the cushions, your laughter quieting as your thoughts drifted slightly. “…I think it’s kind of cute, though,” you murmured.

Nami blinked and looked over. “What, that he’s basically a walking romance novel?”

You shook your head, smiling more to yourself than to them. “No. That he’s finally trying to take something seriously.”

Robin gently set her book down, her eyes curious and warm. Nami tilted her head, her teasing expression melting into one of genuine interest. You took a breath and let your voice settle. “I mean, sure, Sanji flirts like he’s getting paid for it. But this time? It’s different. He actually cares. You can see it in how he talks, how he moves. Like… he wants to be better. Not just charming genuine. That’s kind of huge for him.”

Nami leaned her elbow against the armrest, watching you closely. Her smirk faded into something quieter.

“He asked me for advice,” you added, fingers fiddling with the edge of the pillow. “that's so lame and cute”

Robin offered a soft, thoughtful smile. “It sounds like he’s growing.”

You nodded. “Yeah. And I know we all tease him believe me, I’ll never stop but part of me is proud of him, you know? He’s not trying to win over a dozen hearts. Just one.”

There was a quiet moment. The kind that wrapped around you like a soft blanket. Even the waves outside seemed to hush themselves. Nami exhaled loudly and flopped back. “Ugh. I hate that you made that sound sweet.”

You burst out laughing, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Because it is! He’s ridiculous, but he’s sincere when it counts.”

Nami pointed at you with a lazy glare. “If this ends with him writing sonnets and reciting them at dinner, I will throw myself overboard.”

“Good,” you grinned, “I’ll write your eulogy.”

Robin’s smile turned amused again. “Maybe the sea really will turn to wine next.”

You stretched out with a yawn, heart just a little lighter than before. “Or maybe our little chef’s finally found someone worth changing for.”

The room quieted again, the gentle rhythm of the ship rocking beneath you. Somewhere in the galley, a chair scraped faintly, a sign that Sanji was still awake, maybe cleaning, maybe daydreaming.

The kitchen was clean. Spotless, even. Every dish dried and put away, the counters gleaming, the scent of lemon and herbs still lingering faintly in the air.

Sanji stood alone at the center island, one hand gripping the edge of the counter, the other loosely holding a bottle of wine he hadn’t poured yet. The glass in front of him remained empty, catching the golden glow from the overhead lanterns.

His jacket was off, sleeves rolled up, collar a little undone. His tie hung around his neck, loose and forgotten. His hair fell in front of his eyes in soft curls as he hunched over the counter and let out a long, slow breath.

“…Idiot,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “Stupid, stupid idiot.”

The cork creaked as he pulled it out of the wine bottle, then set it aside. He didn’t pour it yet just stared at the glass like it had personally offended him.

“Of course you asked her for advice,” he mumbled sarcastically, voice full of self mockery. “Genius move, really. Go ask the woman you’re in love with how to win someone else over. Brilliant. Next level romance tactics.”

He sighed, dropping into one of the stools, elbows on the counter, bottle still in hand.

“She probably thinks I’m pathetic. No worse. She probably pities me.” He leaned his head forward until it thudded lightly against the counter. “And then she said I was cute.”

His face flushed immediately.

His voice dropped to a quieter murmur, warm with memory. “She said I was cute just the way I am.”

He let the thought hang in the silence, echoing a little louder in the privacy of the kitchen than it had in the moment it happened. His chest tightened, and he swallowed hard.

She’d said it so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was obvious.

Sanji rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twitching. “So what do you do, huh?” he asked no one. “You take that… softness, that little bit of warmth, and you turn around and act like your heart belongs to someone else? You let her believe that?”

He sat back up and finally poured the wine. The liquid splashed neatly into the glass, dark and rich. He stared at it, jaw tight.

“She probably thinks I’m in love with this new pretend woman. And I let her think that.”

He took a sip. He winced.

“Idiot.”

The word came out smaller this time. Not angry. Just… tired. He swirled the glass slowly, watching the way the wine clung to the sides. What was he even doing?

It wasn’t that he meant to lie. He just… panicked. He didn’t know how to say, “Hey, it’s you. It’s been you.” Not without ruining everything. Not without seeing her look at him with pity or worse, discomfort.

So instead, he twisted the truth into something safe. Something that would let her stay close, even if it meant she’d never know the real reason his heart pounded every time she smiled. And now here he was. With wine. And a thousand regrets. Sanji leaned back in his stool and stared at the ceiling.

“…That Sanji? That guy’s dreamy..”

He smiled faintly. Just for a second.

Then he took another drink and muttered again, quietly: “Yeah. Still an idiot.”

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The sun rose bright and golden, casting warm beams across the deck of the Thousand Sunny. The sea was calm today blue skies, soft waves, and the smell of salt on the breeze. It was the kind of morning that promised a good day, or at the very least, a good breakfast.

You stepped out from the girls’ quarters with a sleepy yawn, your hair a little messy and your shirt slightly rumpled from tossing in bed. The moment your feet touched the deck, you felt it a strong pair of hands grabbed yours and spun you into the air.

“FOOOOOOD!!” Luffy shouted, laughing with wild energy.

“Luffy!” you squealed, dizzy but giggling as he twirled you around in a circle like a child with a new toy.

“I can smell it! Sanji’s cooking something amazing!” he cried, holding your hands as he danced with you in a crooked circle. “It’s meat day, I know it!”

You laughed breathlessly as he practically bounced on his heels, his enthusiasm contagious. “You say that every day!”

“Yeah, because I want it every day!” Luffy grinned, his wide, carefree smile beaming down at you. “Sanji’s meat is the best meat ever!”

“Phrasing, Luffy,” Nami said dryly from behind, stepping up onto the deck with a stretch and a mug of coffee.

Robin followed her, calm as ever, a book already tucked under one arm. “Morning,” she greeted softly.

“Morning!” you chirped, finally freed from Luffy’s grasp and straightening your shirt with a grin. “Someone’s fired up today.”

“Sanji’s breakfast are always special,” Luffy said seriously, his head already swiveling toward the galley. “He’s gonna make the eggs all fancy again, I can feel it in my soul.”

“You don’t have a soul,” Zoro muttered from where he was leaning against the railing, clearly only half awake.

“YOU don’t have a soul!” Luffy snapped back without hesitation.

You laughed as Chopper popped up beside you, sniffing the air excitedly. “Is that cinnamon? I think he’s making pancakes too!”

“Cinnamon and meat?!” Luffy gasped, dramatically grabbing you again by the shoulders and shaking you gently. “WE’RE GOING TO HAVE THE BEST FOOD EVER!”

You snorted. “Luffy, please. I haven’t even had water yet.”

From inside the galley, the sound of pots clanging and something sizzling filled the air, along with the unmistakable scent of breakfast being prepared with far too much care for people who would inhale it in under ten minutes. Sanji’s silhouette passed by the window briefly, towel over his shoulder, cigarette hanging from his mouth, sleeves already rolled up. He was in his element.

“C’mon, let’s set the table!” Chopper called, already hurrying to grab the cutlery.

Luffy started dragging you with him, eyes sparkling. “Come on come on come on come ooooon!”

You stumbled along after him with a laugh, glancing once toward the galley door as you passed. You caught the faintest glimpse of Sanji inside, wiping his hands and adjusting a tray of fruit focused, meticulous, and humming under his breath. He didn’t look up. Still, the sight made your chest warm for a second.

“FOOD!” Luffy yelled again.

And just like that, your feet left the deck once more as the world spun in circles and laughter echoed in the salt sweet air.

The dining table was already packed with plates steaming stacks of cinnamon pancakes, golden and fluffy, with fresh berries glistening like jewels. Plates of sliced fruit and scrambled eggs surrounded platters of sizzling meat, toast with butter that melted on contact, and glasses of fresh juice so vibrant they looked like sunlight in a cup. Everyone was in their place, Luffy practically vibrating with excitement as he bounced in his seat, holding himself back with visible restraint. Chopper was wide eyed, murmuring a small, “Wow,” under his breath. Brook had already begun singing softly to himself in the background, adding a calm rhythm to the buzz of morning chatter.

And then came Sanji.

He emerged from the galley with the final tray a dish of roasted vegetables and sweet sausages, perfectly arranged. His sleeves were still rolled up, his apron dusted lightly with flour, and his hair slightly tousled from the heat of the kitchen.

“Ladies,” he announced with a low, charming bow, “your breakfast has arrived.”

He moved first to Nami, as always, placing her plate in front of her with graceful precision. “For you, my lovely Nami swan, with extra honey on your pancakes just the way you like.”

She smirked behind her mug of coffee. “Charming as always, Sanji.”

“And for you, divine Robin chwan,” he said next, setting her dish down with a delicate touch. “Light seasoning, a side of papaya, and just a pinch of powdered sugar.”

Robin gave him a small, pleased smile. “Thank you. You’re quite attentive.”

And then he turned to you.

You were mid sip of juice when he knelt beside you instead of merely leaning over. The tray he carried was smaller, more focused. A beautiful arrangement of all your favorites crispy hash browns, folded omelet with cheese and herbs, pancakes with caramel drizzle and sliced bananas, and a perfectly cut piece of grilled sausage shaped like a little heart.

“Mon trésor,” he said softly, offering the tray like it was a gift more than a plate. “Everything you love. And I made the syrup myself.”

Your breath caught slightly, caught off guard by the subtle, extra sparkle in his eyes. He looked… softer, not just playful. Like this breakfast wasn’t just breakfast. Like he’d memorized your taste for reasons he hadn’t admitted yet.

You blinked, then gave him a slow, teasing smile. “You didn’t carve a heart sausage for the others, did you?”

“No,” he replied smoothly. “Only for the one who deserves it.”

You felt Nami’s stare from the other side of the table and heard Luffy inhale sharply next to you like he’d just discovered something juicy.

“Sanji…” you said, eyes narrowing playfully, “what are you up to?”

“Nothing at all,” he lied, setting the plate down with a flourish. “Only offering the best to the woman who brightens this ship more than the sunrise.”

Robin chuckled quietly. Nami straight up snorted into her coffee.

You stared at him, suspicious and amused. “Is this still about mystery lady you like?”

Sanji didn’t answer right away. His smile twitched just slightly, eyes flickering across your face like he wanted to say something more but instead, he straightened with that classic, smooth grin.

“Only a fool wouldn’t treat someone as radiant as you like royalty,” he said simply, giving a little bow before turning away to serve the others. You glanced down at the heart shaped sausage. Something fluttered in your chest.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡You were mid bite into your syrup drenched pancakes when Nami slapped your shoulder with the back of her hand.

“OW !” you yelped, nearly dropping your fork. “What?!”

“Did you see that?!” she hissed, leaning in, her eyes wide with scandalized amusement.

“Mf what ?” you mumbled through a mouthful of food, blinking.

Nami grabbed a napkin and pretended to casually wipe her mouth, voice low and fast. “Girl, that wasn’t just flirting..”

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. You choked slightly.

Robin, still reading her book nearby, turned a page without looking up. “I think it was quite romantic.”

You turned to Nami, whispering hotly, “Okay, okay, I know, I’m sitting right here !”

Nami snickered, eyes sparkling like she was witnessing a live soap opera. “Don’t ‘I know’ me. I’ve never seen him look like that before. And he’s Sanji. His flirting is practically a weather system.”

You felt your face heat up, the kind of warmth that crept from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You reached for your juice, mostly for something to do with your hands. “Maybe he was just being… nice.”

“Oh yeah,” Nami drawled. “Super nice…. because he’s reaaaaaal nice”

You groaned into your hands. “Nami, please. He likes someone else, remember?”

That sobered her slightly. She leaned back, eyes narrowing with a more thoughtful glint. “Right. The ‘mystery woman.’” Then she gave you a side glance. “are you sure he said someone not on this ship?”

You bit your lip, still smiling on the outside, but there was a tug behind your ribs. A quiet little twist. Your eyes drifted back to the galley doors where he’d disappeared, probably humming while he finished up dishes or prepared Luffy’s inevitable third round. He’d looked so proud when he’d set your plate down. So sure of what he was doing. So… hopeful.

Nami tilted her head. “So… he’s head over heels and trying to grow a pair finally”

“Yeah.” You toyed with your juice glass, swirling the contents. “I think he actually wants it to mean something. For once.”

Nami let out a low whistle, then narrowed her eyes at you. “And how do you feel about that?”

You hesitated. “I mean… proud. I guess. I know we joke about how ridiculous he is, but… I think it’s really sweet he’s trying.”

She watched you for a beat too long. “But?”

Your smile faltered a little. You looked down at your plate.

“…But I feel kind of stupid,” you admitted softly.

Nami frowned. “Why?”

“Because the whole time I was helping him figure out how to win her over, I kept thinking…” You trailed off, then huffed a quiet laugh. “Never mind.”

Nami leaned closer. “Hey. Come on.”

You finally looked at her, cheeks warm. “I kept thinking how nice it would be if it was… me.”

There was a pause. Nami’s eyes softened. “Damn,” she whispered.

You elbowed her, laughing despite the ache in your chest. “Shut up.”

Robin closed her book with a soft snap. “Well… whoever she is, she must be someone very special.”

You smiled, a little more bittersweet this time, and took another bite of pancake. “Yeah,” you murmured. “She must be.”

Your fingers gently pushed a piece of banana around your plate.

He doesn’t love you. Not really. Even if part of him wants to. Even if you wish you’d said something before he asked for advice on how to love someone else.

Still blushing, you turned back to Nami, managing a weak grin. “I think I need more juice.”

as you stood, your eyes lingered one last time toward the galley. Just in time to see Sanji peek out just briefly like he was checking if you were enjoying your meal. Your heart squeezed, and you looked away before your smile gave too much away. He was trying so hard. Too bad it wasn’t for you.

The kitchen was warm with the scent of baked bread and spices when you wandered in, the early morning hush broken only by the soft clink of utensils and the faint sound of Sanji humming to himself. He stood at the counter with his sleeves rolled up, focused on arranging plates like he was crafting art instead of breakfast.

You leaned against the doorway with a small grin.

“Morning, loverboy.”

He jolted ever so slightly, a spoon slipping from his fingers and bouncing on the counter with a quiet clatter. “Tch must you sneak up on me like that?”

“I announced myself,” you said, walking in. “You’re just easy to rattle before coffee.”

He glanced over his shoulder, giving you a crooked smile. “If I’m rattled, it’s only because an angel wandered into my kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t waver as you made your way toward the pitcher of juice near the sink.

“I’m just here for this,” you said, reaching for a glass.

But before you could pour it, Sanji stepped beside you, brushing past with effortless grace. His hand slipped gently around your waist not holding, not lingering, just enough to move you an inch to the side so he could reach the pitcher.

“Allow me,” he said smoothly, as if he did this every morning. As if his hand hadn’t just sent a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

He poured the juice calmly, setting the glass down in front of you with a soft “Here you go.”

You took it, blinking, and looked down for a second to ground yourself before flashing him a smile.

“Thanks.”

Sanji leaned against the counter casually, watching you with that faint smile of his, the one that held just enough softness to make your chest feel tight. You took a sip, pretending not to notice the way your skin still buzzed faintly where he’d touched you. “Breakfast smells good.”

“Only the best for my favorite ladies,” he said smoothly

You looked down into your juice. “The food was delicious”

He chuckled, low and warm. “Im happy that I could be of service”

You glanced at him from over the rim of your glass. “You do that everyday amazingly”

He tilted his head, just the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I just like the smile it puts on your face.”

You nearly choked. You lifted your glass. “Careful, chef. Keep that up and the mysterious girl you’re into might get jealous.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You meant it as a joke. A tease. A shield. Sanji’s smile faltered just for a second. His gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable there.

Then he laughed, but it was quieter this time. “I'm sure she wouldn’t mind.”

You turned slightly, sipping your juice to hide your expression. Your heart did something unhelpful and fluttery. The touch of his hand still lingered like a phantom against your waist. “Well,” you said, eyes on the glass, “if she’s smart, she’ll hold on tight.”

You didn’t look back as you walked out, but you felt his gaze trail after you all the way to the door.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ cobblestone streets winding between open stalls, music playing faintly in the distance, and the smell of fresh pastries wafting through the air. With no mission scheduled, the Straw Hats had the rare gift of a free day on land. Naturally, you and Usopp took full advantage of it. You’d only been out for five minutes and had already stopped at three shops none of which you bought anything from. “Okay,” you said, holding up a ridiculous, oversized feathered hat from a vendor’s stall. “If I wear this, you think people will start treating me like royalty?”

Usopp struck a dramatic pose beside you. “You're so ratchet but it might work if I’m your royal advisor slash bodyguard slash legendary sniper.”

“So, your usual job?”

“Exactly,” he said proudly. “But Id be more likea knight and shining armour”

You snorted, putting the hat on Usopp’s head instead. “There. Now you look like a circus magician with tax fraud.”

He gasped in mock betrayal. “You take that back! This hat is limited edition!”

“Limited to what? Crimes against fashion?”

The vendor, who’d been quietly observing your antics, stifled a laugh while pretending to dust off some trinkets. Usopp adjusted the hat “You laugh now, but when I unveil my next great invention Usopp’s Amazing Weather Manipulation Cloak everyone will be begging to buy this look.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, starting to walk down the street with him. “And what does this miracle cloak do?”

He puffed out his chest. “Simple. It changes the weather according to your mood. Sunny when you’re happy, storms when you’re mad ”

“So basically, you want to create a walking hazard to public safety? we will be taking away Nami’s job”

“Exactly!”

You cackled, nearly tripping over a barrel. “God, it’s a good thing Chopper’s the doctor and not you.”

“Hey! My inventions have some scientific basis!”

You gave him a look. “Like when you tried to glue mirrors to your boots so you could ‘sneak around corners’?”

Usopp immediately turned red. “That was strategic! I was testing the laws of physics!”

“You blinded yourself.”

“shall we not dwell on the past you fiend”

You were both doubled over laughing by now, dodging around carts and weaving between market stalls. A group of kids ran past you squealing, and you barely missed getting smacked in the face with a balloon on a string. You eventually slowed near a little fountain in the town square, both of you catching your breath.

Usopp leaned on the edge of the fountain dramatically. “Man… why cant all days we stay like this.”

You took a sip from your water bottle and collapsed beside him on the ledge. “That isnt great warrior of the sea of you.”

The breeze picked up, brushing through your hair, and you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment just long enough for Usopp to break it. “Do you think Sanji would survive if we came back wearing matching ‘I ❤️ Zoro’ shirts?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “No. He’d implode.”

“immediate death then we’d get kicked off the ship.”

The sun glinted off the surface of the fountain water as you sat side by side with Usopp, still catching your breath from all the laughter. A light breeze picked up, rustling the colorful banners strung between rooftops and carrying the smell of sea salt and warm bread.

You were about to comment on how this was the first day in a while that felt truly peaceful when Usopp suddenly elbowed your arm.

“Hey, hey,” he said, nodding toward a stall across the square, “look who’s working his magic.”

You followed his gaze and immediately spotted Sanji. He was standing by a small fruit stall, all smiles and flowing compliments. The woman behind it a pretty local vendor was blushing furiously as Sanji offered to help carry something for her. His hand brushed hers lightly, and he flashed that dazzling, practiced grin you’d seen him give a thousand times before.

You swallowed, your smile fading just slightly. You tried to hide it, keeping your tone light.

“Guess that’s her, huh?” you murmured, glancing down at your hands in your lap.

Usopp blinked. “Her?”

You nodded faintly. “The one he asked me advice about. Makes sense, doesn’t it? We’ve been on this island for a week. He probably met her on one of those early grocery runs or something.”

Usopp looked back at the scene Sanji carefully adjusting the strap on the woman’s basket, saying something low that made her giggle and then back at you.

You gave a small sigh, more to yourself than anything. “She’s really pretty.”

Usopp’s face scrunched up, seeing the drop in your expression. “Hey, hey don’t go all mopey on me. You don’t even know if that’s the girl. He flirts with everything that moves.”

You laughed, despite yourself, but it was a little quieter than usual. Usopp, sensing he needed to go full Usopp mode, jumped to his feet. “Alright,” he said dramatically, striking a pose. “There’s only one thing to do in moments of emotional distress.”

You looked up, suspicious. “Usopp, what are you ”

“ Distraction via comedy!” he yelled, grabbing your hand with a flourish. “Come on, I’ll perform the Dance of a Thousand Legends!”

“What?!”

Before you could brace yourself, he spun you in an overly exaggerated twirl your legs tangled, your foot caught on the edge of the fountain

And with a splash, you were completely submerged in the cool, shallow water.

Usopp’s eyes went wide. “NO NO WAIT THAT WASN’T ”

You popped up, soaked from head to toe, blinking water out of your lashes, hair plastered to your cheeks.

“…Usopp,” you said slowly, voice eerily calm.

He held up both hands. “In my defense, that was the wind.”

You arched a brow, lips twitching despite yourself. “The wind spun me into the fountain?”

“It was a team effort.”

A beat of silence passed. Then you both cracked up. Laughter echoed around the fountain again, loud and genuine and ridiculous. A few people turned to look, but you didn’t care. Usopp offered you his hand with a grin, and this time, you took it just to yank him in with you. Another splash. Another shriek. Now you were both drenched, flailing in the fountain like overgrown children. You forgot about Sanji. You forgot about the girl. For the moment, there was just laughter, water, and one very amazing best friend who knew exactly how to pull you back to the surface.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The dock came into view, and you and Usopp were practically wheezing from laughter as you stumbled down the path toward the ship, clothes still slightly damp from your earlier fountain mishap. Your makeshift T shirts handwritten in bold, messy letters with black marker proudly declared:

“I ❤️ ZORO”

Usopp kept pausing every few steps to bend over, hands on his knees, cackling like he hadn’t laughed in years.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, holding your side. “The look on his face is going to kill me.”

“I’m not ready,” Usopp panted, straightening up. “We need to be serious. Completely serious. No laughing.”

You immediately broke into another fit of laughter. “I already can’t breathe, how do you expect me to be serious?”

When the ship came fully into view, you shared a silent nod.

You both climbed up the ramp with as much drama as two theater kids about to win an award. The sun glinted off your ridiculous shirts as you stormed aboard like you were coming back from war. Zoro was on the deck, leaning against the mast with a toothpick in his mouth, sword at his hip, arms crossed like he definitely hadn’t been napping two minutes ago. His eyes flicked up in your direction and immediately narrowed.

You and Usopp struck matching poses. Team Rocket who?

“Zoro~!” you cooed, spinning in a slow circle to show off your shirt. “Look what we got made just for you~!”

Usopp threw both arms out. “We’re your number one fans!”

Zoro stared for a full second. “What the hell is wrong with you two.”

“Love does strange things to a person,” you said seriously, clutching your chest like you were about to faint.

“Speak for yourself,” Usopp added, holding his hand out to Zoro. “Your number one admirer. Autograph, please?”

Zoro’s face didn’t change. “You’re both idiots.”

“And proud,” you shot back with a wink.

Zoro turned, started walking away.

Usopp gasped. “Wait! Are you running from your feelings?”

“I swear, I will cut those shirts off you.”

“I’d love for you to try,” you said, chasing after him like a lovesick fangirl. “Zorooo~ come back~!”

Zoro grunted, picking up the pace, muttering something about needing to train which was definitely just code for escape. You and Usopp high fived triumphantly behind him, nearly doubled over with laughter.

“I’m giving us full credit,” you wheezed.

“As you should,” Usopp grinned. “This is peak comedy.”

The rest of the crew could only stare in confusion, amusement, or deep concern as the two of you continued your dramatic pursuit across the deck, yelling declarations of love at a very, very done swordsman. Somewhere near the helm, Franky raised an eyebrow, watching you dart after Zoro with your wet hair still dripping and marker all over your shirt. He blinked.

“…so like I need that shirt” he muttered.

Nami, passing by with a drink, didn’t look up. “No. No, you don’t.”

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden shimmer across the waves lapping gently against the docked ship. You stood near the edge of the deck, your still soaked hair dripping quietly onto the wood below as you twisted it in your hands, trying to wring out as much water as you could. The sea breeze lifted the ends of your hair and shirt, still clinging damply to your frame. Your laughter from earlier with Usopp had faded into a peaceful calm now, the kind that settles in after the hecticness dies down and your chest is sore from joy.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji stood just a few feet away frozen.

His cigarette hung lazily from his lips, forgotten.

The way the setting sun hit you glistening droplets trailing down your neck, the soft curve of your smile even in silence it was like something out of one of his daydreams. His heart gave a strange little flutter, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. Sparkles. Literal sparkles.

He sighed, eyes softening like he didn’t even realize he was staring. then… he saw it. The shirt. “I ❤️ ZORO.”

His jaw clenched. The sparkles popped like a bubble. His eye twitched. “Zoro?” He looked around as if to yell “WHY ZORO?!” to the gods themselves.

Muttering something under his breath that might’ve included “blasphemous,” Sanji snuffed out his cigarette and made his way toward you, trying his best to look composed like his heart hadn’t just been broken by marker ink.

You heard soft footsteps behind you before you felt the gentle weight of a towel placed across your shoulders.

“Dry off properly,” Sanji said, voice low but kind. “You’ll catch a cold standing around like that.”

You blinked, looking over your shoulder at him in surprise.

“Oh thank you,” you said, taking the towel and patting your face first, then moving to your hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to leave a puddle. Again.”

He gave a small shake of his head, kneeling down slightly to help towel off the ends of your hair. “Don’t apologize. You looked like a drowned cat earlier. Now you look like a damp angel.”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “You were doing so well. So close to normal.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, fingers brushing your shoulder briefly before pulling back. “You’re lucky I care whether you freeze to death.”

You looked at him then, soft towel still pressed to your hair, and his gaze met yours for a second too long.

“…Thanks, Sanji,” you said again, a little more sincerely this time.

His hand hovered like he wanted to reach for you again, but then his eyes flicked back to your shirt. The grimace returned instantly.

“He doesnt deserve that,” he muttered, standing up straight.

You laughed as he turned away. “HEY! hes so babygirl I cant help it” you called after him.

“he is absolutely not” he shouted back. “You want breakfast tomorrow? Say goodbye to that shirt!” You grinned to yourself, towel wrapped around your shoulders, and turned back toward the waves, a little warmer than you’d been before.

Sanji had only made it a few steps before turning on his heel with a fresh spark of dramatics and indignation blazing in his eyes. “Actually,” he said, pointing directly at your chest well, your shirt, but it didn’t help his case “take that off.”

You blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“That shirt!” he sputtered, already flailing slightly. “That insult to fashion and common decency take it off!”

Your grin curled like a mischievous wave. “Oh? So you do want me to take my clothes off.”

He froze Eyes wide. Face immediately red. “No I mean yes wait, NO!”

You burst into laughter, doubling over slightly with the towel still wrapped around your shoulders. “Wow, Sanji. I didn’t think you’d be so bold! Here? Out in the open?”

“That’s not ! That’s not what I meant, don’t twist my words like that!” he wailed, fanning himself with one hand, his other flailing like he was fighting off a swarm of bees. “I just I meant the shirt! Not ! Not you being ! Naked ! I mean, not that I’d mind NO, WAIT !”

You were fully wheezing now, nearly stumbling over the dock as you clutched the towel and your ribs.

“I can’t believe this is the hill you chose to die on,” you giggled.

He groaned into his hands. “This is not what I meant! Mosshead doesn’t deserve to be worshipped like that, not even ironically! What does he have that I don’t, huh?!”

You tilted your head with an evil sparkle in your eye. “You mean besides incredible muscle mass, a mysterious bad boy attitude, and oh my god hes just so handsome”

Sanji looked like you’d kicked him in the soul.

“I I have !” He pointed to himself, eyes wide, desperate. “I can cook! I’m chivalrous! I’d rather die than let you even get a scratch, i bet he wouldn’t even–”

You raised a brow, still smirking. “So… you’re saying you want me to wear your name on my shirt?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Blushed so hard he practically glowed.

Then muttered, “if it’s written in chocolate on you everything would change.”

You blinked. You weren’t sure if he meant on a shirt or on your skin, but judging by how red his ears were now, he wasn’t sure either.

“…You’re unbelievable,” you snorted, shaking your head and heading toward the ramp.

“You started it!” he called after you, still flustered and pointing. “I’m redeeming fashion! I’m doing the Lord’s work!”

You turned just slightly, giving him a wink.

“Sure, loverboy. Let me know when your merch line drops.” You disappeared up the ship, leaving a very red, very confused Sanji behind with his towel and shattered pride.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡Everyone had long since gone to bed, their laughter fading into soft snores behind closed doors.

Except you.

Sleep just… wasn’t happening. No matter how many times you rolled over or how tightly you hugged your pillow, your mind wouldn’t stop spinning. So you gave up, slipped into a loose sweater and shorts, and padded softly down the hall barefoot toward the kitchen. you padded softly into the kitchen, hoping some warm tea or leftover fruit might help settle your restless thoughts.

What you didn’t expect was the dim glow of the kitchen lamp already on… or the disheveled blond figure hunched over on the bench beneath the window.

“Sanji?”

His head lifted slowly. His tie was loose and crooked, shirt half buttoned, and his hair messier than usual like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. His cheeks were flushed a faint rose, and his eyes were just the wrong kind of glossy.

He blinked, then smiled like he was watching the sun rise for the first time.

“Angel,” he breathed. “You really do walk on clouds, don’t you?”

You blinked, caught a little off guard by how fast he perked up.

“Hey, hey easy there, loverboy,” you said with a chuckle, walking over and gently placing your hands on his shoulders to ease him back down. “Calm down, big boy.” You couldn’t help a snort. “Okay, Casanova, how many glasses in are you?”

He held up two fingers… then thought about it and added a third. “10.”

“Right.”

You walked past him to the counter and grabbed a clean cup, filling it with water. “You’re lucky it’s me and not Zoro. He’d have tied you to the mast for being this loud.”

“He’s just jealous of me,” Sanji mumbled dramatically, gaze following you the entire way.

You walked back to him, holding out the glass. “Drink this. You’re gonna regret whatever this is in the morning.”

He stared at the water. “But you’re the only thing I’m thirsty for ”

“Sanji,” you warned with a half laugh, plopping into the chair beside him and crossing your arms.

“Right. Water.” He took the glass and chugged it like it might turn into wine. “That was for you.”

“Thanks,” you snorted. “I feel incredibly hydrated by proxy.”

He swayed slightly and rested his cheek against his fist, still looking at you like you held the moon in your palms. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

You tilted your head. “You tell every girl that.”

“But I mean it more when it’s you,” he slurred softly.

Your lips parted, but the words didn’t come. There was something raw about how he said it. Like he wasn’t trying to charm you. Just… saying what he felt.

You swallowed and looked away for a second, staring at the quiet kitchen. “Why’re you drinking alone?”

He shrugged, shoulders loose and hazy. “Just thinking. About stupid things. About smart things that feel stupid. About shirts and swords and ” he hiccuped, “ how I’ll never be cool like Zoro.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Zoro wouldn’t even know how to turn on a stove.”

“I know!” Sanji whined. “I know. But he doesn’t need to. People just like him anyway. And you ” he paused, his voice dropping a little “you wore his name.”

That made you blink. You looked at him fully now. “Sanji…”

He let out a breathy laugh and shook his head, burying his face in his arms against the table.

“I’m being dumb again, huh?” he mumbled. “I always get like this when you’re near. It’s like my brain turns into scrambled eggs.”

You watched him for a moment, your chest tight with something unspoken.

“…You’re not dumb,” you said finally, your voice quiet. “You’re just bad at pretending you don’t feel things.”

He peeked up at you, eyes soft.

You smiled gently. “It’s kinda… what I like about you.”

You sat down next to him on the bench, a comfortable space between you until Sanji, with absolutely zero hesitation, leaned into you and snuggled his head against your shoulder.

“Mmm.” His voice was muffled in your sweater. “You’re so warm. You smell like the sea and something sweet… like honey. Or cake. Or maybe youre just as sweet.”

You blinked, looking down at the mess of blond hair now nestled into you. You let him rest there, too tired to push him off and maybe not really wanting to. The kitchen was quiet aside from the ticking of the wall clock and the hum of the ship gently rocking with the waves. His body was warm against yours, heavy and content.

After a moment, you murmured, “You okay, Sanji?”

He let out a sigh, his breath hitting your collarbone. “Nope.”

You smiled faintly, resting your head lightly against his. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“…Want more water?”

“Only if you hold it for me like a baby bird.”

You snorted. “Yeah, you’re done.”

Sanji shifted slightly against you, cheek still pressed to your shoulder, but now his fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve tugging, releasing, tugging again. There was a quiet stillness in the kitchen, broken only by the ticking clock and the gentle sway of the ship. “…Hey,” he mumbled, voice thick and unsteady. “Can I ask you something?”

You glanced down at him, smile soft. “Sure.”

He hesitated, then pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. They were a little glassy from the wine, sure, but behind that, you saw something so cute and honest peeking through. He looked almost… scared.

“Do you…” He swallowed. “Do you actually like me? Like this?”

You blinked. “What do you mean ‘like this’?”

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, face now red as a tomato. “I mean I know I’m kind of a disaster. I flirt too much, I say dumb stuff, I fall too fast, I… twirl around like an idiot half the time. But when I asked you for advice… I wasn’t ”

He cut himself off with a shaky breath, then turned back to you, expression completely open now, like he was laying his heart on the table next to the crumbs and the empty wine bottle.

“…I was trying to ask how to get you to like me.”

Time stopped. Literally, it felt like the kitchen froze. The air thickened, your heart skipped so hard it hurt, and your brain went completely blank except for one long, internal scream.

“W What?” you breathed.

He winced slightly, clearly mistaking your shock for horror. “I know I’m an idiot. I thought maybe if I asked like it was about someone else, it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. You’re just so amazing. You laugh at my jokes, you call me out when I’m being over the top, and you look at me like I’m… a person. Not a character.”

Your mouth opened and closed uselessly. “Wait. Wait.”

He kept going, barely able to meet your eyes now, fingers nervously twisting the fabric of your sweater. “I thought if I could just be better, maybe you’d see me differently. Maybe you’d want to give me a shot. I didn’t want to mess it up by saying the wrong thing so I thought… maybe you could tell me how to win over a girl like you. B But that’s stupid, right?”

It hit you like a ton of bricks. A ton of bricks wrapped in love letters and wine stained confessions. The girl he’d been talking about… the one he wanted to be better for, the one he asked about so earnestly… it wasn’t some island stranger.

It had been you.

Your breath hitched as your brain scrambled for a coherent thought. Your face burned so hot it might’ve glowed in the dark.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, barely audible. “Sanji.”

He was still looking down, shoulders tense, voice quiet and fragile. “Yeah?”

You swallowed hard. “You… you’re in love with me?”

His face practically exploded in red as he jerked his head back up to look at you, horrified. “I Wh What?! I mean yes?! No I mean dammit oui?! I didn’t mean to say it like that! I meant like not like, love love but maybe like a crush or oh god I’m drunk, ignore me ”

You pressed your hands to your cheeks, laughing way too high pitched, flustered beyond saving.

“Sanji,” you squeaked.

“I was so smooth in my head,” he groaned, burying his face into your shoulder again. “I had speeches and everything. Why did I drink five glasses?!”

You laughed again, covering your face. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Is that a yes idiot or a no idiot?”

You bit your lip, cheeks hot, heart racing as you looked down at the ridiculous, flustered man holding onto your arm like he might float away otherwise.

“…Maybe it’s a yes idiot,” you whispered.

His head whipped up. “What?!”

You smiled shyly. “Maybe I like you too. Just the way you are.”

He blinked. Then blinked again. And then

He passed out in your lap.

“…Unbelievable,” you muttered, flustered and smiling helplessly as you smoothed back his hair. “You really are the dumbest romantic I’ve ever met.”

Sanji: I just wanna eat you up… starting with a little nibble here and maybe a lick there

[gloriousdreamerland]

Want You Back with: Housewardens

Where they're still in love with you.

Riddle Rosehearts

After the breakup, Riddle acted like he'd read somewhere that repressing emotion was a perfectly valid coping mechanism. Which, to be fair, he probably had. And so he embarked on what could only be described as a grief management routine so structured and detail-oriented that you almost had to respect it.

First came the part where he behaved like nothing had happened.

He went about his day with all the usual pomp—collaring students, citing arcane dorm rules, and drinking his tea as usual.

If anyone brought you up (on purpose or by accident), he would simply blink, nod, and go back to arranging sugar cubes in a perfect geometric formation. "We are no longer together," he would say, as if it were an administrative change and not, say, a soul-crushing emotional catastrophe.

Then came the coincidences.

He began showing up in places he absolutely did not frequent before. The café you liked? Suddenly, he was a regular. The library on Thursday evenings? There. The very hallway outside your class despite Heartslabyul being on the opposite side of campus? Oh yes. There too. And every time you spotted him lurking (because that was the only word for it), he would give a startled little blink, like you were the surprise.

"Oh. I didn't see you there," he said, the fourth time in a week.

You stared at him from behind your drink. "I've been sitting here for thirty minutes."

"Well," he muttered, "public seating is for everyone."

By week two, he began inventing reasons to talk to you. Weird ones.

He approached you one day, armed with a rulebook and what looked like three sticky notes marking battle locations.

"According to Queen of Hearts rule 42," he said, clearly having practiced this in front of a mirror, "ex-partners must return borrowed items within twelve days."

You blinked. "You lent me a pencil."

"It was part of a set," he snapped, scandalized.

You told him you'll give it back and he looked like someone slapped him.

You thought that might be the end of it. But then, course, it escalated.

He showed up at your door one evening with a paper in his hand. A list. A physical list. Titled, in absolutely unnecessary cursive, "A Non-Exhaustive Record of My Missteps."

"It's not meant to change anything," he said stiffly, not quite looking at you. "Only to… acknowledge."

There were bullet points. Short, awkward, and occasionally baffling.

Should not have critiqued your sock choice in front of your friends.

I apologize for saying 'emotional outbursts are not strategic.' That was, in hindsight, a poor choice of words.

You are allowed to eat dessert before dinner. Even if it is cherry pie.

I realize now that asking if we could schedule arguments during free periods was not romantic.

I should have asked you to stay.

You didn't know what to do with it—him. He was so Riddle about everything. Polite. Procedural. Very slightly insane. But under all the awkward attempts at regulation and paperwork, it was clear he missed you. Badly.

And the truth was, you still hadn't returned the matching pencil.

You kept it. Not because you believed in fate or romance or even well-meaning tyrants who quoted rulebooks like love poems—but because part of you thought, maybe, if he was willing to be just a little more flexible, there might be a version of this that could work.

And you hoped it could.

Leona Kingscholar

After the breakup, Leona made it his personal mission to convince the entire world—Ruggie, his dorm, the mirror in his room, the literal wildlife outside—that he did not care.

He went around saying things like, "Tch. Good riddance," and "Like I got time to babysit someone who cries over movies," even though no one had brought you up. He slept more. Talked less. Got moodier, which no ne thought was possible until he started growling at actual potted plants for existing near his nap spots.

Whenever Ruggie so much as hinted at your name—usually while dancing around some scheduling conflict or trying to explain why Leona's mood had tanked again—he'd get cut off mid-word.

"I wasn't even talking about them!" Ruggie would complain.

"Then stop thinking about them so loud," Leona snapped, face buried in the crook of his arm like the concept of you physically hurt his eyes.

But of course, the moment your name stopped being brought up, that became a problem too.

He started acting restless. Less asleep all the time and more awake and clearly trying to look like he's not looking around for someone. He'd frown when someone laughed in the hallway, then look annoyed when it wasn't you. He started showing up to classes he normally skipped, sitting in the back with his legs stretched out and arms crossed like he was doing the entire school a favor just by existing in the room.

And then the things started appearing.

First, it was his jacket—left casually across the back of your desk chair, like maybe gravity had just pulled it there on accident. Then his spellbook, shoved between your textbooks in a way that definitely required premeditated effort. Then a sandwich. An entire sandwich, wrapped up and labeled "Not Yours."

He denied all of it, obviously.

"Must've been Ruggie," he said, regarding the jacket that literally smelled like him.

When confronted about the book: "I don't even read, what're you talking about."

As for the sandwich? "You're imagining things. I didn't make that for you."

By that point, no one believed him—not even himself.

The final blow came in the form of a confrontation you hadn't expected. Late evening, when you were walking back to your dorm from the library. You were alone, or you thought you were, until you turned the corner and found him there—half in shadow, arms crossed, gaze trained somewhere just over your shoulder.

He didn't say hello.

Didn't say anything actually.

Just let the silence stretch until it started fraying at the edges, and then muttered, voice low and rough:

"You still want this, don't you?"

You stared at him. He didn't flinch, but you could tell he wanted to. He held himself like someone who didn't expect the answer to be yes, but still desperately needed to hear it before he gave up entirely.

And you realized somewhere between the jacket, the sandwich, and the way his voice cracked at the end of the sentence—that for all his snarling and attitude, he never stopped loving you.

He just didn't know how to ask you to stay without sounding like he might actually need you.

Which, of course, he did. Not that he'd ever say it out loud.

Not yet, anyway.

But the next time he leaves something behind, you think you might return it in person. Maybe even stay awhile.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul handled the breakup the only way he knew how: with spreadsheets, surveillance footage, and a truly unhealthy amount of denial.

He claimed to be fine, of course. Said it with a straight face while color-coding inventory spreadsheets and inputting customer satisfaction data at four in the morning like a man unburdened by heartbreak. But when the tweels found the Lounge security footage paused—again—on a scene of you laughing near the bar, they stopped asking.

He'd memorized the timestamp.

And no, he didn't want to talk about it.

Azul had always been prone to spiraling in a unique way. After the breakup, that tendency mutated into something truly concerning. He didn't cry. He didn't wallow. Instead, he opened a blank document and began calculating. How many hours you'd spent together. How often you laughed in his presence. What the average rate of eye contact was in happy couples versus yours. There were charts. Graphs. Some kind of weighted affection index.

Unfortunately, Jade opened the file looking for the March sales report and instead found a document titled:

"Projected Probability of Them Still Loving Me (v6)."

He would not let him live it down.

"Idea," Floyd said. "You wanna run those numbers again but include the variable where you're super pathetic lately?"

Even Jade raised an eyebrow. "The correlation between desperation and appeal might not be as linear as you'd hope."

Azul tried to brush them off. He even lied (very badly) about what the spreadsheet was for ("Just… tax optimization. Personal hobby. Totally normal."), but the damage was done. The eels were smug. He was mortified. And worst of all, he still couldn't stop thinking about you.

So he pivoted.

If direct emotional vulnerability had failed him, perhaps passive-aggressive marketing would do the trick.

You started receiving coupons. Neatly folded, hand-delivered, no return address—but you recognized the ink. And the handwriting. And the aggressively formal tone that somehow still managed to sound like begging.

"One (1) free drink of your choice at the Mostro Lounge. Offer valid for exes statistically proven to be an optimal match."

Another read:

"Your preferred drink has been discontinued. Kidding. Please come back."

And your personal favorite:

"A reminder that our pairing was 94.3% ideal. Come back. For research."

You didn't respond. He didn't expect you to. But every week, a new coupon showed up—some increasingly ridiculous, some borderline romantic, all of them signed with that same flourish he used when pretending he wasn't panicking.

You weren't sure if it was pathetic or endearing. Probably both. The coupons had piled up in a drawer now, next to a coaster you never returned and a little napkin with a sketch he once made of you during a slow night.

You told yourself it was nostalgia. Curiosity. Scientific inquiry, if anything.

And one slow afternoon, you found yourself digging through the drawer, smoothing out the least crumpled coupon, and thinking—just for a moment—that you might stop by.

For research. Obviously.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim took the breakup as well as someone who had never actually took a negative emotion in his life to heart could. Which was to say: terribly.

He cried. A lot. At first, it was appropriate—private tears, sniffles in the dorm room, a distant gaze over his drink. But then it started happening at other times. Like during an ad for laundry detergent where the happy couple folded towels together. Or during a weather report where the forecast mentioned rain, which, apparently, you once said made you sleepy. Or during absolutely nothing at all, except that the sun was setting "a little too much like that one day you held his hand, remember?"

He insisted he was fine.

"Totally fine!" he chirped, voice three octaves higher than normal, eyes red-rimmed and suspiciously glossy. "Breakups happen all the time, right? We're both growing and learning! It's healthy!"

No one believed him.

Jamil looked like he was considering reporting you to the disciplinary committee just to end Kalim's reign of emotionally unhinged sunshine. Even Grim asked if someone should "turn him off and back on again."

But Kalim doubled down. If he couldn't be fine naturally, he'd brute-force his way into happiness. Which, in his mind, meant: throwing parties. So many parties. For no reason. His calendar suddenly became a horror show of "themed celebration nights" and "spontaneous joy hours," all of which were weirdly tailored around your favorite things.

"Here!" he said brightly, handing out goodie bags. "Everyone gets this specific brand of chocolates and stickers! Because those are just objectively fun! Not because anyone used to love them or anything!"

It was transparent. Alarmingly so.

Even when he gave someone a little clay charm that looked exactly like the one you wore on your bag, Kalim waved it off with a too-wide smile. "Just spreading the joy! It's important to stay positive, right?"

Everyone knew it was a cry for help. The kind that sounded like party poppers and glitter and repressed sobbing in the school gardens.

The turning point came on a quiet afternoon when he showed up at your door holding a tiny cupcake. It had a frosting heart on it. His hands shook slightly.

"I know this is weird," he said, already teary. "I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable. I just—"

He swallowed, voice cracking like something inside him was giving up the act for good.

"Even if you don't love me again," he said, "can we still be something?"

You looked at him—his earnest eyes, his trembling lower lip—and you felt something soft and painfully familiar unfurl in your chest.

Because Kalim didn't know how to lie to the people he loved. Not well. Not really. He was all impulse and heart, the kind of boy who loved too loud and too fast and never quite knew how to stop once he started.

And maybe you weren't ready to be what you were. Not yet.

But looking at him, at the little cupcake with the slightly smudged heart and the the way he was holding it like he might shatter if you didn't take it—

How could you say no?

You took the cupcake. And maybe his hand, too. Just for a moment. Just to see if something could still bloom.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil did not mourn the breakup. Mourning was for people who couldn't maintain composure under pressure. For people who let emotion smudge their mascara. He was not one of those people.

At least, not publicly.

He was flawless. Unbothered. The exact picture of someone thriving post-relationship, thank you very much. His interviews were polished. His smiles were poised. His posture was impeccable. If anyone noticed that his usual acerbic wit had gone curiously blunt, no one said anything.

They wouldn't dare.

Privately, though, when the cameras were off and the spotlight blinked out, Vil cracked in very small ways.

He started using your favorite perfume. A subtle layer, never enough to be obvious, but just enough to make him feel like you were still somewhere in the room. Like maybe if he breathed in deep enough, he could hold onto something.

He flipped through magazines during lunch breaks, claiming it was for "market research." But every time he lingered on a movie review or a lifestyle spread, it was with the faint, ridiculous hope that you'd read it too. That your fingers might have touched the same paper. That your eyes caught the same line he was rereading for the fifth time.

He knew it was foolish. But Vil had always been prone to beautiful illusions. It was sort of his thing.

The unraveling came, ironically, in the most public of places: a toothpaste commercial.

He was halfway through filming, mid-speech about the importance of a radiant smile, when something in the script triggered a memory—something you once said about how his laugh.

He kept talking.

Kept improvising.

Went off-script entirely.

The crew let him go for a minute—Vil was known for his "emotional depth," after all—but when he hit the line "even the most polished smile can still ache when it remembers someone who made it feel real," the director had to call cut.

"Vil," they said gently. "It's a toothpaste commercial."

He didn't speak for the rest of the shoot. Just touched up his own makeup in silence, eyes a little glassy.

It took him another week to knock on your door.

He showed up in a soft sweater, smelling faintly of something familiar, holding his own hands like he didn't know what else to do with them.

He didn't ask for much. Didn't ask for forever. Just quietly, cautiously:

"Would you like to try again?"

And you thought—looking at him, at the person who once swore he'd never show up like this for anyone, at the vulnerability hiding under all that polish—

Maybe this time, you could make it work.

Idia Shroud

Idia handled the breakup the way he handled most things in life: with a complete and total digital meltdown, buried under forty layers of denial and an emotionally scorched Discord server.

He didn't text. Didn't call. Didn't even leave passive-aggressive emoji reactions on your old posts like a normal ex with unresolved feelings. He simply… disappeared.

Vanished like a ghost into his room, into his code, into the vast and uncaring expanse of the internet, where feelings didn't exist unless they were typed in all caps or conveyed through a crying anime girl gif.

And for a while, it was total radio silence.

Until you logged into that game.

The shared one. The one you used to play together after class, where the two of you ran a little shop in a pixelated fantasy village and spent an embarrassing amount of time farming digital potatoes.

Your shop was still there.

But now there was… a shrine.

Your character's pixel art face, recreated painstakingly in custom tiles and surrounded by in-game flowers, torches, and glowing pink mood crystals that did not exist in the vanilla version of the game.

He'd modded it.

There was a sign in the middle that just said:

"Here Lies Happiness (RIP)"

You stared at it for a long time. Then, just to confirm the ridiculous suspicion building in your chest, you checked the nearby player list.

Sure enough, his username had changed too:

"SadBoy420"

Online. Loitering.

You didn't message him immediately. Mostly because you weren't sure what to say to someone who had quite literally built a shrine to your relationship in a farming sim. But still—you lingered. Logged in more often. Left offerings of rare items near the shrine like it was some strange, silent conversation.

Idia never spoke to you directly, but you noticed the shrine changed a little every day. One day it had a sign that said "I'm Fine." The next, it was replaced with a drawing of your characters fishing together. One morning it was just a massive, pixel-art rendition of the word "SORRY" in bold letters with a sad face emoji.

Outside the game, his silence continued.

But Ortho?

Ortho was not subtle.

"Did you know my brother has been listening to the voicemails you left him on loop for the past 72 hours?" he chirped once in the cafeteria. "Not that he's, like, sad or anything! Just nostalgic. Definitely not crying."

Later: "He made your favorite NPC in our custom server the town mayor! Isn't that cute? I mean, objectively, not emotionally, haha."

Eventually, you got the call.

Your phone lit up with his name and you answered before you could talk yourself out of it.

"Uh—hey," Idia said, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't, like, mean to call. Or—I did, but. Crap. Okay. Hi."

You waited.

He took a breath.

"I was just wondering," he said, "if you maybe wanted to talk again. Or, y'know. Game. No pressure or anything. It's fine if you're, like, over it and I'm just like a pathetic ghost haunting your social life, haha, classic tragic NPC vibes—"

"Yes," you said, before he could spiral into apologizing for existing.

He paused. Long enough that you thought the call had dropped. Then, quietly—hopeful, almost disbelieving:

"Wait. Really?"

You smiled, even if he couldn't see it.

"Yeah," you said. "Log in."

Malleus Draconia

Malleus did not understand how something so radiant could simply… end.

He didn't throw a dramatic tantrum after the breakup. He didn't disappear in a swirl of thunderclouds or curse the moon or anything out of a tragic love story.

He didn't so much as frown in public, because the full gravity of the breakup hadn't quite hit him yet. Instead, it settled in stranger places—quiet things, strange habits.

Like how he started speaking to the plush bat you gave him on his last birthday as though it were you. Not in a creepy way, more like someone who didn't know what to do with the empty space you left behind.

He asked it questions. Told it how his day went. Laughed, sometimes, as if it had told him a joke—low and fond, the kind of laugh only you had ever coaxed out of him. And when he sat beneath the stars, plush cradled carefully in his lap, he whispered to it with a gentleness reserved only for the lost.

The gargoyles? They weren't even sentient, but even they seemed exhausted. Every night he stood in front of them, musing out loud about the way you smiled or how you always called him weird little nicknames. One of them lost a nose—maybe unrelated.

Lilia, bless him, said nothing for a long while. He simply watched as Malleus wilted, quietly and beautifully, like a flower sealed in ice. But one evening, after Malleus asked in the softest voice, "Do humans ever come back when they leave?", Lilia did not answer. He only wrapped his arms around his ward and held him close.

At some point, he started writing letters. Not to send, just… to say things. Things he didn't know how to tell you, or hadn't said enough when he could. Some were serious. Some were barely legible thoughts written in the middle of the night. But he kept them all, folded neatly in a box that lived under his bed.

And then, of course, Silver found the box.

Silver, ever helpful and half-asleep, assumed it was mail Malleus meant to send and delivered the whole thing to your dorm like it was completely normal to get a hand-bound novel of unsent love letters dropped off on a random day.

You read them all.

You didn't say anything at first. You weren't sure what you were supposed to say. But that night, you left your window open—just a little.

And sure enough, just past midnight, Malleus appeared outside your dorm. Just… standing there. Looking up.

He didn't ask to come in. He didn't even call your name. He just waited. Like maybe you'd hear the quiet, and somehow understand.

And when you finally stepped outside, he looked at you like he'd been waiting centuries.

"May I court you again?" he asked softly. "From the beginning."

And really… how could you say no?

Masterlist

[gloriousdreamerland]

[gloriousdreamerland]

hello i apologize if this is a lot but i'd love to req a fic w/ zoro, law, ace, sanji where reader is normally mature but has cuteness aggression to animals, & when she started dating them, she does it to the boys too- suddenly clinging onto them while aggressively peppering their faces w/ kisses or squeezing their cheeks & just being so overly proud of them & showering them w/ compliments, it can be a common occurrence or it takes the boys by surprise lol you decide ^o^

also, thank u for ur service to the op community on tumblr 🫡 the quality & frequency of ur fics are impressive, i always look forward to ur updates♡

Clingy Combat Cuddles

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace (x fem!reader) + chopper (platonic but with zoro too)

a/n: they're kinda short because I didn't have many ideas, so I added chopper (ofc it's platonic tho + it has zoro in it!)

words count: around 0.4k - 0.6k each

tags: fluff, humor, cuteness aggression, established relationship (except for chopper ofc)

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The deck of the Sunny is peaceful. The sun is warm. The sea is calm. A perfect day.

And Zoro has just fought a sea king.

You're watching from the side, arms crossed, lips pressed together, trying to stay cool and composed. Like always.

But Zoro walks past you, shirt still off, a little cut on his cheek, sword resting against his shoulder and he scowls at the deck like it personally offended him.

That’s it.

That’s the moment.

Your brain breaks.

You lunge at him without warning “Zoro!”

He turns his head, barely reacting in time before you wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly so you can hang off him, nuzzling your face into the side of his jaw.

“YOU WERE SO COOL!! You chopped that thing like shing shing BAM! My big strong grumpy samurai baby!”

He stiffens “Oi! What the—”

You grab his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks together like dough.

“Look at this face! So serious! So brave! So slicey! UGH!!”

You start kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, even his frown line like you're on a mission.

Zoro is frozen. Arms hanging in the air like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“…Did you hit your head?” he finally mutters.

“No!” you say, still kissing him “I just... I have a thing!”

“A thing?”

“Yes! I get aggressive when things are too cute or too cool or too brave! Like when Chopper does his little dance or when cats squish into boxes—and now you!”

He gives you a blank look “So… you're calling me cute?”

“No,” you say seriously “I’m calling you the cutest deadly thing I’ve ever seen and I want to eat your face in the most loving way possible.”

“...What.”

A few feet away, the rest of the crew is watching like it’s a new show.

Luffy’s grinning, sitting on the railing “He’s gonna explode.”

Usopp is pale “I’ve never seen her like that. That’s terrifying.”

Sanji’s cigarette hangs from his lip, forgotten “He doesn’t deserve that level of affection, but damn if I’m not jealous.”

Robin chuckles “So, this is what she’s like when the mask slips. Fascinating.”

Back to Zoro who now has you hanging off his front, kissing under his chin while mumbling things like “my battle bear” and “look at this terrifying angel”.

He finally puts a hand on your back, awkwardly “…You’re seriously not joking.”

“Nope,” you chirp, grinning like a lunatic “I’m so proud of you I might die. Look at you! Protecting everyone without hesitation. You’re amazing.”

He stares at you. Then down at his swords. Then at the deck.

“I just killed a sea king.”

“And it was HOT.”

Zoro groans and hides his face behind your shoulder.

Later on you’re sitting on the grass, your head in his lap, Zoro finally having managed to drag you somewhere quieter. Sort of.

He’s sharpening his swords, jaw set, pretending he’s not enjoying the way you keep sneaking kisses to his thigh.

“You done acting weird?”

“Nope,” you say, immediately reaching up to pinch his cheek again “You’re mine now. This is the price.”

Zoro sighs, annoyed.

But he doesn’t move your hand.

Instead, he glances down, and there’s a tiny hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“You better not do this in front of enemies.”

“No promises.”

“…Tch.”

You grin and tug him down for another forehead kiss.

And this time, he lets you.

── .✦ Sanji:

You’ve been good today. Calm. Collected. You kept your hands to yourself through breakfast, through a minor skirmish with Marines, and even through Sanji’s dramatic backflip dodge while holding two plates of soup.

But now… Now he’s plating dessert.

He hums a little as he swirls whipped cream into perfect little peaks.

His hair falls over his eye just a bit, and there's flour on his cheek.

You try. You really try.

But no... You’re losing it.

“Sanji—” you say, voice tight.

He turns with a warm smile “Yes, my love?”

You’re already marching toward him.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide with anticipation “Is it time?”

“It’s time.”

You slam into him like a heat-seeking missile, arms wrapping tight around his middle as you squish your cheek against his chest.

“TOO PERFECT. TOO BEAUTIFUL. TOO TALENTED” you shout into his shirt.

Sanji laughs and drops the whipped cream just in time to catch you with both arms.

“Mon dieu, you’re doing it again. You’re going to kill me with affection.”

You grab his face “GOOD. DIE WITH LOVE.”

You start smothering him in kisses: forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, ears, rapid-fire smooches with increasing intensity.

Sanji nearly melts.

“Chérie, please, my heart can only take so much—”

“Look at you!” you cry, squeezing his cheeks “Your stupid little smile and your perfect food and your gentleman act! You’re SO ANNOYINGLY AMAZING!”

He practically purrs “Say that again.”

“You’re the most beautiful, talented, wonderful man in the world and I want to chew your stupid perfect face like a mochi bun.”

He gasps softly “Marry me.”

“I might do.”

“Then we have to arrange it all.”

Later that evening, you’re sitting peacefully on a chair, flipping through a book.

Sanji walks past you carrying a tray of tea and pauses.

He glances over his shoulder.

You glance up.

There’s flour on his sleeve.

His shirt is rolled up to the elbow.

He’s humming again.

You’re holding it together, but barely.

He smirks “You okay, mon amour?”

You stare.

He walks closer “You’re looking at me like I’m a chocolate cake with legs.”

You slam the book shut and launch up, but before you can pounce, he spreads his arms wide like an invitation.

“Come here, ma chérie. Ruin me.”

You leap into his embrace and he spins you around, laughing as you kiss his face over and over and over.

“You’re shameless!” you giggle.

“I’m in love,” he says dramatically “If your kisses were a drug, I’d be long dead.”

“I will squish your cheeks into dumplings and feed them to seagulls.”

“Please do.”

“You’re too pretty, it’s unfair.”

“I’ll ugly it up a little. Give me a day.”

“NO! I love your face, I’d wear it like a scarf if I could.”

He fake-swoons “Do it. Take it. I’m yours.”

“Is this… normal now?” Zoro mutters as he watches you pin Sanji against the wall of the kitchen, attacking him with affectionate nibbles and kisses while he happily takes it, hands holding your waist like he’s never been more at peace.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nami says, sipping her drink “They’re like this almost every day.”

Brook hums “Yohoho! True love is terrifying.”

Robin smiles behind her book “At least it’s harmless. Though, she did try to bite his nose once.”

“She did bite my nose,” Sanji calls out helpfully “It was magnificent.”

Zoro turns away, muttering, “Get a room.”

“We have a room!” Sanji replies “We’re just taking the scenic route!”

Hours later, you’re snuggled on the couch in the kitchen, your head on Sanji’s lap, while he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You good now, love?” he asks gently.

You sigh “I think I emptied the tank.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead “You can refill it tomorrow. I’ll be ready.”

You open one eye “You really don’t mind when I get like that?”

He smiles “Mon amour… I live for it.”

You smile too “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“I hope I do,” he says “Over and over again.”

── .✦ Law:

Law is reviewing maps. His fingers tap against the table in a steady rhythm, eyes darting from note to note. His crew has just docked at a remote island, nothing dramatic today. Just calm preparation.

You're leaning against the wall, watching him.

He’s focused. Serious. In control.

You normally admire that about him.

But now?

It's making you suffer... a lot.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He mumbles something about currents and wind speeds. His lips move with precision. His fingers glide over the paper and...

... and that’s it.

You break.

“Law” you say, voice suspiciously innocent.

He hums without looking up “Mm?”

You walk up behind him slowly. Too slowly. His head lifts just slightly, eyes flicking toward you, narrowing.

“…What are you doing?” he asks flatly.

You don’t answer.

You leap onto him from behind.

“AHHH—”

He jolts forward a little as your arms wrap tight around his neck, your face burying in the side of his head.

“YOU’RE SO SMART. SO FOCUSED. I WANNA BITE YOUR BRAIN THROUGH YOUR SKULL—IN A LOVING WAY!”

“WHAT—?! Y/N—what are you—”

You pull back only to grab his face and start kissing it in a fury. Forehead. Nose. Cheek. Jaw. Temple. Eyelid. Repeat.

“SO! SMART! AND! SEXY! AND! SERIOUS!”

“Are you having some kind of episode?” Law says, voice strangled.

“Yes,” you gasp “It’s called cuteness aggression and you’re the disease.”

Minutes later, Law is leaning back in his desk chair, defeated, while you sit on his lap like an overjoyed little goblin, hands on his cheeks, staring at him lovingly.

“You’re not supposed to be like this” he mutters.

“Like what?” you blink innocently.

“You’re usually calm. Rational. Controlled.”

“I lied,” you say sweetly “That was just the bait phase. This is my final form.”

Law sighs and covers his eyes with one hand “I can’t do diagnostics like this.”

“Sure you can,” you whisper, kissing his nose again “You just need to adjust to your new life. With me on your lap. Forever.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “help”.

“Too late,” you say “I’ve chosen you.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re perfect. Look at this little line between your eyebrows. It’s my favorite. Can I kiss it?”

“No.”

You kiss it anyway.

He tries to work. He really does.

You're sitting nearby. Quiet. Reading. Acting like a normal person again.

Then Law says something offhanded, like, “The odds of ambush are low, but possible.”

You immediately drop the book.

You spin in your seat.

“Low but possible? SO. ARE. YOU. That’s you. You’re a low-chance rare-drop man. A mythic legendary boyfriend. I’M GOING TO KISS YOUR EARS.”

“Please do not kiss my ears.”

You pounce again “TOO LATE!”

You squeeze his face gently, tilt it like he’s a confused doll, and begin your assault.

He groans “This is emotional terrorism.”

“You love it.”

“…I don’t hate it.”

Later that night, you’re laying together in his quarters, the world quiet, your head on his chest. He’s stroking your back slowly, finally calm again.

“You’re weird” he murmurs.

“Yup.”

“I liked you better when you were pretending to be emotionally stable.”

You smile into his shirt “Liar.”

“…Yeah,” he mutters “I am.”

You lift your head just enough to look him in the eye “Do you want me to stop?”

He hesitates.

Then, softly “…No.”

You grin “Good. Because I was going to keep doing it anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your hair “Of course you were.”

── .✦ Ace:

Ace drops out of the sky like a meteor, lands on the deck with a dramatic crouch, and tosses a flaming Marine cannon overboard like it’s a beach ball.

Everyone cheers.

You’re already running toward him.

He stands up, beaming, shirt half open, flames still curling off his shoulders.

You throw your arms around him like a tackle.

“BABY!! YOU LIVING INCINERATOR! MY FLAMING HERO!!”

He laughs, wrapping you up tight “I missed you too, firecracker!”

You grab his cheeks.

“I am going to smooch you so hard your freckles become stars.”

“PLEASE DO.”

You slam kiss after kiss to his face, and he laughs through all of it “Wait—no, don’t stop, I’m just surprised! You’re usually the calm one!”

“That version of me is dead,” you say seriously “You dropkicked a cannon midair. I’m going feral.”

“Finally!” he cheers “Join me in chaos!!”

You bite his cheek lightly.

He gasps “I’m in love.”

The rest of the crew watches you both clinging to each other like human Velcro, nuzzling and giggling and attacking each other with affection.

“It’s like watching two puppies roll down a hill” Marco mutters.

Thatch wipes a tear “Beautiful. Gross. But beautiful.”

Ace is now spinning you in a circle while you repeatedly yell, “YOU’RE SO STUPIDLY HOT, IT MAKES ME ANGRY.”

“YEAH?! GOOD! I WANNA BE HOT FOR YOU FOREVER!”

“STOP SMILING LIKE THAT YOU HANDSOME PIECE OF SUNSHINE!”

“I CAN’T, YOU’RE TOO CUTE WHEN YOU YELL.”

Later, Ace plops down beside you, sweaty and soot-streaked after another skirmish. He opens his arms wide.

“Do your thing” he says.

You blink “What thing?”

He grins “You know. That thing. The... 'aggressive cuddles and I-want-to-chew-your-face' thing.”

“Ohhh, you want the full package?”

“Yes please.”

You tackle him to the ground instantly.

“MY BEAUTIFUL DUMB IDIOT. MY FLAMING HOT DORK. MY BRAVE EXPLOSION HUSBAND.”

You kiss his forehead.

Then both cheeks.

Then his jaw.

Then you pause.

“You smell like smoke and sea salt.”

“Romantic, huh?”

“You smell like danger and I love it.”

“I love you.”

You pause again “Ew. That was corny.”

“You just licked my face like a cat two minutes ago.”

“Fair.”

At night, lying in a hammock together, he holds you tight against his chest. The wind is quiet. The sea gentle.

He brushes his fingers through your hair.

“You really don’t get embarrassed?” he whispers.

“Not when it comes to you” you murmur back.

“Even when you call me a ‘beautiful flaming dumbass’ in public?”

“Especially then.”

He grins into your hair.

“I like this side of you” he says.

You look up “You mean the clingy one that kisses your nose in front of your whole crew?”

“No,” he replies softly “The one that doesn’t hold back.”

You smile.

“Then you’re stuck with me.”

Ace kisses your forehead.

“Good. Because I’d set the world on fire before I let you go.”

── .✦ Chopper (+ Zoro):

“Okay, next patient,” Chopper says proudly, flipping his clipboard “Let’s see Y/N, it’s just your check-up!”

You sit on the exam table swinging your legs “Yup! I’m ready, Doctor Tiny Genius.”

“I told you not to call me that” he mutters, hiding his flustered face behind the clipboard.

You lean down and whisper, “But you are a tiny genius.”

“Stop iiiit,” he whines, blushing, “I’m just doing my job!”

You watch him waddle around the room with his little doctor coat and stethoscope.

He’s so smol. So serious. So determined.

You can’t hold it.

“Chopper,” you whisper “Come closer.”

He looks up, confused “Huh? Why?”

“Come. Closer.”

“Are you okay—?”

You snatch him right off the ground and CRADLE him in your arms.

“TOO CUTE. TOO KIND. TOO FLUFFY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M GONNA EXPLODE.”

“W-WHA—?!” Chopper’s face is glowing red “W-WAIT! I—I’m your doctor—!”

You rub your cheek against his fuzzy face “You are my doctor AND my emotional support reindeer. Let me love you.”

“You’re squishing my antlers—!”

“They are precious and I would die for them.”

Chopper flails, but doesn’t really try to escape. He’s used to this. You do this at least once a week.

“I’m gonna tell Zoro!” he threatens, kicking gently.

“Zoro loves it. He thinks you’re cute too.”

Zoro is leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold.

You cradling Chopper like a plush toy while Chopper pretends to be mad but actually leaning into your touch.

Zoro sighs... and smile.

“You’re enabling her” Chopper says accusingly.

Zoro shrugs “You are adorable.”

“Not you too!” Chopper squeaks.

You smirk “See? I told you.”

Zoro walks over and gently ruffles Chopper’s hat “Deal with it, doc. She only does this to her favorite people.”

Chopper freezes. Blinks. Looks between you and Zoro.

“R-Really?”

You nod and boop his nose “Only the elite get aggressively snuggled.”

He goes completely red, squeaks, and buries his face in your shoulder.

“Okay... but just for five more seconds.”

You squeeze him tighter “Ten.”

Later, as you finally let Chopper go, he adjusts his little coat and clears his throat.

“I’m still your doctor” he says sternly.

“Of course, Doctor Cutie.”

“Don’t call me that! …I mean, you can, but—wait, no, don’t make it a thing!”

Zoro pats his head on the way out “Too late.”

You lean over and whisper to Zoro “I’m gonna dress him up as a little surgeon plush next time.”

Zoro smirks “I’ll hold him down.”

[gloriousdreamerland]

love that when luffy heard the name roronoa zoro & found out he was an extremely feared pirate hunter to the point that people called him a demon his first reaction was ‘I’m going to see that guy’ then when he found out he had a soft spot/good person he was like ‘OHHHH he’s coming home w me’. and as for zoro, he was like huh that kid’s crazy. sure I’ll join his non existent pirate crew and follow him into danger. perhaps even die for him! and within a week they’re communicating practically telepathically. first mate successfully acquired

[gloriousdreamerland]

I know this is a very specific moment that nobody remembers, but I made this meme and now you have to see it.

[gloriousdreamerland]

3rd years -> pro heroes 🍰🥦💥