#ensemble cast tags lets go

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: A drawing of all the Hargreeves plus Lila riding in Diego's van from season 4, wearing the outfits they usually wear in the promo posters. Diego is driving and using a fist to mime singing into a mic. Five is reading a newspaper in the passenger seat. In the row behind them, Klaus is dangling his arms out the window, Lila is throwing snacks at Five's head, and Allison is sharing headphones with Viktor who is sitting behind her. Ben is in the same row as Viktor and is staring straight ahead looking shaken. Luther is taking a nap in the trunk. End ID.]

Family Road Trip!!

[nexus-nebulae]

every day i wish that Rats SMP was a cartoon bc it would make the greatest show ever i think

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

mcdonald goodsir talking scene but its like an hour bc i just would like to see them talk more

[halfvalid]

Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss

intertwined ribbons

ABOUT

alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated

rating: general audiences/teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.

tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor

author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol

(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)

“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion. 

“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?” 

“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!” 

“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.” 

You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.” 

“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.” 

“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.” 

You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman. 

You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought. 

Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.” 

“Am not.”

“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her. 

“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”

Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.” 

You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed. 

“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.” 

“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.” 

Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated. 

“I am not—”

“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.” 

You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand. 

You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—

“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?” 

“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.” 

“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.” 

You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up. 

“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.” 

With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said. 

“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.” 

You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?” 

“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe. 

The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about. 

“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.” 

You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed. 

“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.” 

You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?” 

Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.” 

Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 

You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?” 

“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.” 

“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.” 

Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.” 

The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.” 

“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room. 

You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.

A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.

“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?” 

Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door. 

“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.” 

“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!” 

“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on? 

You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled. 

Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”

You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you. 

“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.” 

You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably. 

“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor. 

You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.” 

The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?” 

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.” 

“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.” 

Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in. 

“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there. 

“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.” 

“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin. 

You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?” 

“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair. 

“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly. 

“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief. 

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed. 

“Get up. Don’t be stupid.” 

“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said. 

“Okay, so neither of us do.” 

Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”

You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.” 

“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?” 

“Uh, nothing.” 

“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?” 

It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?” 

“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.” 

“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it. 

“Well?” Zoro prompted. 

“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.” 

“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 

You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.” 

“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.” 

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t.” 

You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.” 

Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.” 

“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?" 

“Positive. It’s all me.” 

“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”

“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed. 

You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.

You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?” 

There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”

“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.” 

There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?” 

Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.” 

“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered. 

“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh. 

“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.” 

“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.” 

You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him. 

“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?” 

“Hm?” 

“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—” 

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought. 

“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”

Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?” 

You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.” 

“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.” 

“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered. 

“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped. 

Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?” 

“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.” 

You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.” 

“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.” 

You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 

Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between. 

You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body. 

He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly. 

You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered. 

Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught. 

He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.

So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black. 

The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn. 

Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together. 

“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?” 

“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.” 

“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.” 

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…” 

“First?” you prompted. 

Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.

A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go. 

The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight. 

A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”

“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.

“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—” 

“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”

“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.” 

“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.” 

You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass. 

© halfvalid 2023

[writerbee-ffs]

Just Michael…

A/N: it’s been a while BUT this is a part two of a One Shot I did way back when called “He was Erik”. Reader and (Killmonger. Smoke. Stack.) Michael are trying to move on from the past and present roles of their relationship.

✨Be gentle. I haven’t wrote in so long but have missed it. I decided to dip my toe back in before I fully continued to write MBJ ffs✨ anyways enjoy!

My ✨Tag List✨ is also non-existent lol so if you want to be tagged in any future work please let me know 🙏🏾

Rubbing the lotion onto your brown skin, you continued to watch him closely. You cursed yourself under your breath as his voice carried on the delightful conversation.

“When he calls you; do you not even read the script?” The host questioned through small chuckles with the cast. You’d trailed off by then reminding yourself that this wasn’t going to play out like last time. He’d played in other roles but none of them had come between you like that one.

‘You were supposed to be past this’ you thought to yourself scratching your scalp before placing your kinky coils into a low bun just like he liked. ‘You weren’t past this….past him.’

‘Who isn’t watching this movie take the world by storm?’ You thought again to yourself. You were trying to convince yourself that this dirty secret of watching his interviews weren’t crazy but justified. ‘You were showing support’

‘All done. Hope you’re ready for lunch’ - BABE

You read the message he sent. It was 7 years ago. You were an idiot. He had been in a public relationship during the “off again” point of this relationship but always found a way to contact you or did little things in his interviews because he knew you were watching.

You hadn’t responded to him since he was probably minutes away. You continued getting dressed for lunch date. You’d wanted to match his black and white ensemble from his cast interview. Sliding the black skirt up your waist before placing the white collar button up crop top on your top half.

“Babe?” you heard him step more into the hotel suite as you placed your feet into you heeled sandals. Right on time. “(Y/N)?” His voice was slightly louder meeting you at the bedroom opening.

“Hi” you smiled pulling the collar of his white shirt close to you. You melted into his soft pillowy lips with your own. This was your man. You had always fought the urge to compare him to his roles. Making sure he didn’t revert back to his depressive ways like last time…..

*

5 Years and 3 Months ago

“She just doesn’t fucking understand!” The thunder like sound of his voice made the hairs on your neck stand up. You were shaking internally as you sat on the other end of the sofa.

“What do you mean, Michael?” Mrs. Jones, the therapist, questioned. Her voice was light and free from judgement as she peered over her glasses going between us both.

His breath shallowed. He was thinking. He burned a hole into the floor before picking up his head piercing the side of your face. “She acts like I’m still him. Still in the fucking role of Killmonger. We filmed over a year ago. I just rapped up with press touring. I’m good.”

You had been slowing your breath down the whole time he spoke. You didn’t know why you’d came to therapy with him. He texted you a few months after you packed up and that public bull shit of a relationship had ended with the details of the appointment and somehow you responded with an ‘ok’. You desperately wanted to see the change in him. You wanted to support him so you came. This was your first time seeing him. He looked like Michael but he still carried the boulder of Killmonger on his shoulder.

“(Y/N)?” You were knocked out of your thoughts. You heard the slight irritated chuckle leave his lips.

“She’s not even taking this shit seriously” he muttered. “I should’ve did this shit myself.”

That fueled you to release the truth. You were tired of dealing with his shit. You had been released from him when you walked out and you had vowed to not come back. He’d moved on and so did you. You were dating, having fun and just-just thinking of him through it all. Your legs were shaking and you couldn’t sit anymore. Your skin felt as if it was burning through the leather of the sofa. You felt your feet moving. You were pacing. The type of pacing that had people around you nervously watching for your next move.

“YOU are the one that needs this! NOT ME!” Your voice was shaky but you continued to stand your ground. “Killmonger is a darkness that consumed my boyfriend. You hurting yourself is hurting me.” ‘Great the tears were forming’ “Watching interviews to feel closer to you. Wearing your clothes while crying myself to sleep. You think I wanted this?” You wiped the salty rivers flowing from your eyes. “You made me leave you.” Your movements came to stop in front of him. His brown orbs staring past you because he couldn’t bare looking at you . “I love you, Michael.” I wanted to be there but I was going insane. I can’t love you more than I love myself….” You voice was low and your finger raked through you now straighten kinky hair. “Even tried to rub that Lori bitch in my face as if you were happier dating someone of status!” You scoffed. “Bitch couldn’t do half the shit I did for you! But you always made sure I was in arms reach.” You rolled your eyes. “Tell me something…” You paused looking at him with a small venomous grin “was that Michael or Killmonger?”

“(Y/N).” Mrs. Jones voice carried over towards you heavier than before. “I understand your frustration but let’s not take jabs at each other.” She turned her attention towards Michael. His eyes were closed as his chest moved up and down slightly slower than normal. “Michael?” The therapist mumbled. “I know this is a lot. (Y/N) spoke her truth. How does this make you feel?”

The silence was killing you. Maybe you had went overboard. You had a tendency to let things build up then explode. Call in the (Y/N Horoscope) in you. You had agreed to this meet up after everything you had been through with him in this past year. You rested your head back against the wall. You were too nervous to look at him again.

He lifted his finger to his glossy eyes. Wiping a stray tear from his right one. That got your attention. You wanted so badly to slide over and wipe those slow forming drops from his eyes but you couldn’t. You were here for closure. For a new beginning. For something.

“I-I” Michael was only speechless when he wanted to be truthful without hurting anyone. You figured he probably wanted to dig deep and release every hurtful statement possible on you. His breath became heavier as you waited for him to continue. “I’m sorry. I need help.” You heard the tremble in his voice as he choked out those words towards the floor. He was hurt and embarrassed. Again you wanted nothing more than to embrace him in your arms and hold him. “I need you.” He’d finally looked at you. His once dark lifeless orbs were soften and brown. Familiar.

*

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you sat across from him in between sips of the sweet drinker laced with champagne. “All of you looked so good on Sherri’s show.” You smiled warmly. “I can’t wait to meet them in the next few weeks.”

“I think it went well” He smiled. “Just wish you would’ve took my invite to watch it live and meet them today.”

“I’ll be there the whole time when your overseas press tour starts.” You reassured him. “Remember what the therapist said.” You place your hand over his giving it a light squeeze. “We have to respect each other’s boundaries so we don’t go backwards.”

“Yeah I know.” He nodded pursing his lips slightly. “Just want this experience to show you how much I’ve changed.” He kissed your hand smiling. “I feel good about this.”

You weren’t quite sure if he was talking about the relationship or the movie but either way you could see a change in him during and after the movie. There were no hints of Smoke nor Stack just Michael.

[shitpostingkats]

Hello would you be willing to rant about the ace subtext in Yugioh GX season 3 to me ? I haven't watched GX yet (though I plan to) and I have heard about its gay subtext but this is the first time I hear about ace subtext 💜🖤 ! Don't hesitate to spoil to your heart content btw, I don't mind them (they're generally what stimulates my interest in something in the first place) and I already spoiled myself a huge chunk of the season 3 of GX anyway 😅

OH ABSOLUTELY

I meant to make an essay about this ageeees ago but ended up never getting around to it. For starters, let's just talk about how ace coded Jaden Yuki is.

Jaden, at multiple points in the series, expresses a nonchalance, obliviousness, or straight up disinterest in romance. Multiple people ask him out and he either doesn't get what they're asking or turns them down. (This includes a guy btw, no not that one, an undead ghost king asks Jaden to marry him and Jaden turns him down.) Several minor villains attempt to distract him/flirt with him/straight up use love magic on him and it just. Does not work. His tag force profile says, quote "At times a girl may have a crush on him, but he has rarely, if ever, shown any interest."

Okay, so he's gay, right?

Well, as I mentioned, even the one male character that shows interest in him, he turns down, but maybe that was a fluke.

Enter season 3, and Jesse "Johan" Anderson.

Jesse is a sweet befrilled little bishonen boy, with a rainbow magic motif and the accent of Owen Wilson. He and Jaden instantly click. His entire introduction episode is just the two of them hanging out and talking about their shared interests, and Jaden's other friends commenting that they've never seen him act like this with anyone. Over the course of an arc, the two come to completely rely on each other and work in tandem, and Jesse takes to calling Jaden "partner".

This is the part that a lot of folks like to point to and declare "gay!" and I'm not going to deny it. Jesse is an undeniably queer character.

Interestingly, in a series set in highschool, with a large ensemble of characters undergoing coming-of-age plot lines, and having crises of identity, Jesse is one of the only members of the cast to never having an arc around his identity or his relationships with people.

Chazz learns that he came from an abusive family and has to shed the toxic expectations placed upon him by his older brothers, leaving behind the fruitless scrabble for their approval. Alexis slowly comes to terms with the fact that her crush (Jaden) will never like her back and she has spent so long chasing after friendships that she no longer knows how to exist without being an ever smiling supporter and it terrifies her. Syrus wants desperately to live up to his older brother's reputation, except said older brother is actually a mess, and the more Syrus tries to be like him the more he seems to drive them apart. Heck, even Hassleberry has some (extremely clumsy) magical identity shenanigans going on, and reckoning his past life as a dinosaur (it's a long story) with his understanding of himself. Jaden's a whole other bag of worms.

But Jesse is never troubled by his identity, or the way he loves people. That's what makes Jesse queer: he's comfortable with who he is, revolutionary so for his genre. He's happy to just be in Jaden's life.

Then Yubel shows up.

Okay, about Yubel. Now, you might have heard, but Jaden had this bigender ghost dragon demon sharing tenancy in his brain when he was a kid, who's actually a leftover guardian from a past life, who swore an oath to follow Jaden through his reincarnations and protect him, and underwent painful transformative surgery to make themselves an immortal monster creature so they could do just that. They asked past!Jaden if he would always love them, and he said yes of course. Then in present day they got a little into the protector sauce and started murdering anyone who made Jaden sad, so he decided to send them away into the cold isolation of space to stop the murders from happening. Now they're back, and they have a complex.

Specifically, they are very angry at Jaden for sending them away, but also rationalize it as "Jaden promised to love me forever. Then he sent me into the Torment Nexus. Therefore, sending the person you care about to the Torment Nexus = love."

(Learning all this also adds a fascinating layer to Jaden, because it recontextualizes all those interactions he had where he turned people down. Not only is he just naturally oblivious, but subconsciously he tries to hold people at arms length, so they don't go to extreme lengths for him.)

Yubel is royally pissed to come back from The Pain Dimension and see their "spot" at Jaden's side taken by this funky little rainbow southern boi. So they try to reassert their love by killing everyone Jaden knows; placing him in intense pain, and conveniently getting rid of all those "rivals" for his affection.

The plot of yugioh gx season 3 is the villain trying to force the main character into what their idea of a "romantic" relationship should be, while trying to eradicate the person who is completely comfortable loving him in a nontraditional way.

And! The interesting thing about Jaden! Is that he does love!

Jesse sacrifices himself to save Jaden and everyone, and Jaden cannot cope with that. (see above, for him having trouble forming connections because he equates loving someone with deep personal loss that's his fault) He sets out for basically the afterlife, determined to bring Jesse back from the dead, with everyone else in the show trailing after him and telling him this is a bad idea.

Jaden loves Jesse to death and past it. That cannot be understated.

For Jaden, love exists. It's primal and destructive and powerful and almost tears him apart, and he tries to burn down the universe to get the people he cares about back. He doesn't go on dates, he doesn't know what the word "fiance" means, he visibly cringes when people talk about romantic relationships, but he loves so powerfully that the entire conflict of the season, maybe even the entire show, is that Jaden loves so much.

Yubel puts together that Jaden loves Jesse, so they take over his body. They try to shape themselves into the form they know Jaden loves, and short of that, deliver an ultimatum. Them, or Jesse.

Yubel cannot comprehend a world where Jaden is allowed to love them both. Yubel is representative of the view of love as a monogamous, one-and-done kind of situation. Jaden reaches back out and says "No. I love him, and I love you. And I'm sorry."

Yubel cannot love him into the form of relationship they think is "normal". No matter how hard they try, the two of them are never going to be the traditional, picture perfect couple from Yubel's stories of the knight and his bodyguard. They will both always be "alien". And Jaden will never stop loving Jesse, in that messy and vaguely defined way neither of them will elaborate on, even when asked by other characters.

When Jaden gives up on the idea of love and being loved in exactly the way everyone is telling him he should, that's when he gets a happy ending.

It's a theme that permeates so much of the series. Chazz should stop striving for approval from people who don't care about him. Cyrus should stop trying to change himself just to fit a preconceived mold. Alexis can't keep bending over backwards to help people in the vain hope that one day they will love her back the way she wants.

And at the center of it all an asexual character, learning to accept the part of him that loves different from the way he is told he should.

[slytherin-pen]

Woooo! Congrats on 500 followers 🥳

I’m going to be cheeky and request two bingo squares (feel free to only do one if two is too much!)

🔥🗡️ Neris — jealousy

☀️🌷 Elucien — one bed

Thanks! And well done 💕

Burn Them All

pairing: Nesta x Eris

word count: 829

tags: mates, jealousy, courtiers test Nesta’s temper

a/n: sorry for the delay on these, i was having cardiac symptoms for like 5 days straight and just tried to sleep until i felt better. and thank you so much!! i’ll do Neris for now and then come back for Elucien!

The throne room of the Forest House is particularly beautiful this afternoon, with sunlight filtering through stained glass windows and golden leaves scattered artfully along the wooden floor. Bouquets of roses and chrysanthemums decorate every table, and a string quartet plays softly in the corner.

Eris Vanserra sits on his polished oak throne in the center of the room looking as regal as ever in a rich crimson ensemble completed with gold embroidery. His jaw is set, his amber eyes sharp and unreadable as he listens to a minor lord drone on about trade negotiations between the villages. Nesta sits to his right in coordinated attire, doing her best not to look as bored as she feels. Her hair is braided back from her face in a crown, no jewels needed. Just that cold, immortal beauty that makes courtiers look twice—and then lower their eyes.

But not all of them are so wise.

Across the room, a cluster of high-ranking ladies titter behind fans. They cast flirtatious glances toward Eris. One particularly bold female leans forward as she walks past, her bodice indecently low.

“The court shines brighter with you in it, High Lord.”

“We’ve all been talking—surely it must be exhausting being the most eligible male in Prythian,” another adds with a practiced giggle.

Eris pays them no mind, continuing to survey the room for anyone who looks as though they may be conspiring against him. Nesta, on the other hand, feels her eye twitch as her hands curl into loose fists.

Eligible male?

She forces herself to take a breath. And another.

But then one of the females winks at Eris as she sashays by and Nesta forgets all pretense of keeping her cool.

She rises gracefully from her throne, a few courtiers snapping their attention toward her as they catch the movement. “Ladies,” she says, her voice cutting through the murmuring crowd like a sharpened blade.

The temperature in the room seems to drop.

The flirtatious courtier turns, smile already forming—until she sees Nesta’s expression.

“Allow me to clarify something for you,” Nesta begins.

The female falters. “I—I beg your pardon—”

“If you had an ounce of self-preservation, you would’ve bowed and kept your eyes on the floor like everyone else in this court.” Nesta steps down from the dais like a predator tracking its prey. “But since you seem in desperate need of correction, let me make it plain.”

She stops in front of the trio. Close enough that the magic humming beneath her skin, the silver flickering in her eyes, makes the females take a collective step back.

“The High Lord,” she says, voice low and deadly, “is mine. Mind, body, and soul. And if I catch you even thinking about batting your lashes in his direction again, I’ll show you how quickly the High Lady of Autumn can turn you to ash.”

The female turns ashen, her companions scattering without a backward glance.

Eris hasn’t moved a muscle, but his eyes burn with molten hunger.

Nesta turns back to him, chin tilted up in defiance.

He rises from his throne languidly. A predator who’s found something far more interesting than political squabbles. “That was cruel,” he murmurs, descending the steps.

“At least I warned her,” Nesta says unapologetically. “She should consider herself lucky. I could have just burned her on the spot”

Eris stops before her. His fingers brush against her waist, then slide lower until his hand grips her hip possessively. “Should I be worried?” he drawls, though his eyes are dark with arousal. “My mate might burn my court down if someone flirts with me.”

Nesta steps in close, voice low enough for only him to hear. “Not the whole court. Just the stupid ones.”

He huffs a quiet laugh and leans down to murmur in her ear, “Jealousy looks good on you, my flame.”

She glares at him, but it’s soft around the edges. “You didn’t bother telling them off.”

“Because I don’t have to.” His hand tightens at her hip. “Everyone knows you are the only one who holds my leash, and now you have reminded them.”

Nesta’s breath catches.

“You’re the only one who can make me beg,” he adds, teeth grazing the shell of her ear.

The room around them fades, but Eris still lifts his head enough to catch the stares lingering on them. His voice is loud enough now, deliberately so. “Perhaps they are visual learners.” He presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “So let’s teach them again that no one touches what’s yours.”

And then his mouth is on hers, claiming and reckless. The court watches in stunned silence as their High Lord kisses his mate like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It is far from appropriate. It’s raw, unrepentant want. When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to hers and whispers, “Burn them all, if you want.”

She smiles, teeth flashing like a wolf. “Don’t tempt me.”

Bingo 500 taglist: @nocasdatsgay

[glittervame]

Lets go make a slpash

Pool party/ water balloon

This post is going to be part of the Jinxed July by @thatdammchickennugget and @finalgirllx check it out if you want to know more!

Sorry its short, I didn't really have a plan for this because I found out about the challenge out late. I don't think I have a tag list for Mattheo but tell me if you want one.

Mattheo Riddle x FEM! Reader 18+ Basically just smut, Unprotected P in V (Wrap it before you tap it), degradation, hinted overstimulation

Mattheo's eyes widened as Y/n emerged from the bathroom in their shared room in Malfoy manor. He'd seen her in swimsuits before, of course, but there was something about this particular one that seemed to highlight every curve and angle of her body in the most flattering way possible. It was a two-piece number with a plunging neckline and high-cut bottoms that had been a gift from her friend Pansy, and it was clear that Pansy had excellent taste.

Y/n noticed his stare and smirked, twirling around to show off the full effect of the ensemble. "Like what you see?" she asked, her voice teasing.

Mattheo coughed, trying to clear his throat and regain his composure. "I-I mean, yeah, you look... you look good."

"Just good?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to look away, focusing on the book he'd been reading. "You look great, Y/n. Really."

Y/n grinned and winked at him before sauntering over to the mirror to check her hair and makeup. She knew she had him flustered, and she enjoyed it a little too much. It had been a while since she'd seen him like this, and it was a nice change of pace from their usual bickering and banter.

They had just been so buys hanging out with their friends that they hadn't got time to be by themselves in a while. It was summer break, and they were all staying at the Malfoy manor for a month-long vacation. It was the perfect time to strengthen their friendship and maybe explore something more, or so Y/n hoped.

Y/n had had a crush on Mattheo for what felt like forever, but she was never sure if he felt the same way. They had always been close, almost like siblings, but lately she had been noticing that their friendship had been taking a different turn. 

There was a spark between them, something that made her heart race every time their eyes met or their fingers brushed against each other's. But she knew that Malfoy manor was not the place to be making any big romantic moves. There were too many people around, too many eyes watching. Plus, she didn't want to ruin their friendship if he didn't feel the same way.

"Alright, I'm ready," she announced, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her waist. "Let's go make a splash."

Mattheo nodded, still trying to get his thoughts in order. He had noticed the change in their dynamic too, but he wasn't sure if it was just his imagination or if there was something more there. He didn't want to jump to conclusions and risk losing her friendship.

They headed outside to the pool area, where their friends were already gathered. Pansy, Blaise, and Draco lounged by the pool, sipping on butterbeers and chuckling at some inside joke. Ginny and Hermione were splashing around in the water, while Ron and Harry were engaged in a heated debate about Quidditch strategies.

The group greeted them with cheerful hellos, and Y/n couldn't help but feel a little nervous as she approached the pool. She had never felt this self-conscious before, but she was determined to enjoy herself. She took a deep breath and dove into the water, the cool liquid enveloping her and washing away her nerves.

The day passed by in a blur of laughter, games, and good-natured rivalry. The sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the manor grounds. The group decided to end the day with a game of hide and seek adding their own twist to the game, the loser got pelted by water balloons by the rest of them. As they counted down, Y/n took the opportunity to sneak away to a secluded spot she had discovered earlier in the week.

It was a small grove of trees, hidden from view of the pool area, and she hoped it would be the perfect place to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. She had just found a comfortable spot when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized it was Mattheo. He looked around, spotting her tucked away in the shadows. "Found you," he murmured, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"find your own hiding spot," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He stepped closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I think I like this one just fine."

The air between them grew thick with tension, and Y/n's heart raced as she took in his wet hair and the droplets of water that clung to his skin. "What do you want, Mattheo?"

He took another step closer, so that they were only a breath apart. "I want to know if this is just me," he whispered, his hand reaching out to lightly brush her cheek. "Or if there's something here."

Y/n's eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he was joking or teasing. But all she saw was earnestness and vulnerability. 

"There's something here," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've felt it for a while."

Mattheo's hand moved to cradle her face, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in the softest of kisses. It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, filled with promise and potential.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/n felt like she was floating. "Is this...are we..." she stumbled over her words.

Mattheo grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. "Let's not overthink it, Y/n. Let's just enjoy this summer, and see where it takes us."

Well where the summer took them was you getting pounded into. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still. You feel the heat between your legs, the ache that only he can soothe. You moan into the kiss, arching your back as you press yourself against him, needing him to touch you.

His hands slide down your back, gripping your hips before moving up to cup your bottom, squeezing gently. You feel his fingers dig into your skin, leaving a trail of desire down your spine. You whimper into his mouth, wanting more. You need more.

He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. You watch as he kicks the door shut before lowering you down onto the mattress. His lips trail a line down your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. You tilt your head back, arching into the sensation. You can feel his erection pressing against your core, begging to be let in.

He slides his hand between your legs, parting your folds. His fingers are rough against your skin, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You gasp as he circles your clit, teasing it expertly. You buck your hips against his hand, needing more. You need him inside you.

"Please, Mattheo," you whisper, your voice hoarse with desire. "I need you."

He groans, his fingers leaving your aching folds to unbuckle his belt. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his pants down, revealing his hardness. He straddles you, positioning himself at your entrance. With a deep breath, he pushes inside you, filling you completely. You cry out at the feeling of being so completely claimed, your body clenching around him in welcome.

He begins to move, his hips rocking against yours. The friction between you is exquisite, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body. You arch your back, meeting his rhythm as he thrusts deeper and deeper. You can feel him getting closer, can feel the tension building inside him.

"I'm close, cara mia," he breathes, his voice rough with need. "Come for me."

You moan, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sensation of being so close, of feeling him inside you as he reaches his climax, is almost too much to bear. You feel the wave of pleasure building within you, threatening to overwhelm you.

"Mattheo," you whimper, your body tensing as the sensation crashes over you. You cry out his name, your body pulsing around him in a release of pure ecstasy. You feel him follow you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he comes deep inside you.

He collapses on top of you, their sweat-slick bodies sticking together. You breathe in the scent of him, the heady mix of sweat and arousal. Mattheo kisses your neck before brushing off the tears on your cheek, "You can go again yeah?"

You nod, a sly smile playing on your lips. "As many times as you want."

"Good" He thrusts back in harshly, his hand finding its way to your neck. He squeezes gently, a hint of dominance in his eyes as he sets a punishing pace. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

You moan, your body responding to his touch, his claim on you. This is what you've been waiting for, what you've been dreaming of. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on, eager for more of him.

Your hands claw at his back as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting that perfect spot deep within you. You feel yourself building towards another climax, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

But he never lets her cum after that first one, he keeps her on the edge, her eyes glazed with lust and desperation. His grip on her neck tightens, and his teeth graze her earlobe. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice a dark growl. "Say it."

"Yours," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "I'm yours."

He smiles a cruel twist of his lips, and slams into you one final time before pulling out, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. You look up at him, confusion and need written all over your face.

"Not yet," he says, his eyes gleaming. "We're just getting started."

And so as the night goes on, he continues to tease you until you become a sobbing mess of pleasure, begging for release that he never fully gives.

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Suites & Sweets

freshman year at Jujutsu University Tokyo seems like it will be uneventful. and, well, that's true... until you meet the boys in the suite across the hall, and one in particular piques your interest.

satoru gojo x reader | jjk college au | no curse au | fem! reader | fluff, angst, & slow burn | SMAU & writing <3

introduction | previous | next

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

ˋ°•*⁀➷˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 25. 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓣𝓐𝓛𝓚 ⍣ ೋ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ... wc: 3.9k

You wiggle the doorknob of 12B behind you, ensuring it's locked before taking one step across the hall and knocking on the door of Suite 12A. It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Satoru in his usual laid-back ensemble: grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a baggy black crewneck.

He leans against the doorframe with that signature lopsided grin of his, gesturing you inside with a dramatic flourish. “Welcome in, your majesty. To what occasion do I owe the honor of this late-night visit?”

You roll your eyes and scoff, but scoot around him and step inside anyway, the soft click of the door shutting behind you sounding loud in the quiet of the suite. The dimly lit living area feels sleepy, the glow from a single lamp in the corner casting long, lazy shadows. You’re surprised by how quiet it is; there are no sounds of laughter, no late-night snacking in the kitchen, no signs of life at all.

“It’s only eleven,” you muse aloud, slipping off your shoes and aligning them with the other pairs at the entrance. “Where even is everyone?”

“Being boring,” Satoru groans, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his sweats. “Kento’s probably doing homework in the library or whatever responsible people do. The other two...” He pauses, tilting his head as if searching his memory. "Something with Choso, I think? Maybe smoking? I know Yu was invited and Suguru tagged along."

He shrugs nonchalantly, though the faintest hint of a smirk dances on his lips. “Which means it’s just you and me. Lucky you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you look at Satoru. “Lucky me, huh?”

“Of course,” he quips, spinning on his heel to lead you down the hallway. “An uninterrupted evening with yours truly? What more could you ask for?”

"I could think of a few things," you tease.

"Hey!" he whines, and you giggle at his antics. Satoru throws a playful pout at you, but it’s quickly replaced by that signature grin, the one that always makes your heart trip over itself. "I'm hurt. Here I am, offering my time and charm, and you’re already thinking of alternatives?"

“Don’t take it so personally, Toru,” you say with a smirk, falling into step beside him. The familiar teasing cadence between you feels comforting, yet tonight it carries an undercurrent of something else you feel in the way your pulse quickens whenever his gaze lingers on you.

Does he feel it too?

Satoru opens the door to his room with a flourish, stepping aside to let you in first. “Well, I’m choosing to ignore the sting of that comment because I’m generous like that.”

You laugh at the ridiculous statement, then enter his room and inquire, "When will they be back?" Since it's a Thursday night, they will need to go to class tomorrow, and you wouldn't want to be a bother. You've been feeling guilty for spending so much time in their suite lately, and as you take a seat at the foot of his bed, you feel even worse for taking up so much of Satoru's time he could be spending with his friends, not with you dragging him down to your personal pity parties.

"Hmm," he contemplates. "Nanami will probably be a while since the library is open all night. The other two were gonna crash at Choso's." Satoru walks in behind you, and in one fluid motion, swings the door shut behind him. He glances at you, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. "Why? You want me all to yourself or something?"

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "Don’t flatter yourself, Toru."

His smirk only deepens at the nickname, a playful glint flashing in his eyes. "Too late," he quips, plopping beside you onto his bed without a shred of grace. He sprawls out across the blankets, one arm tucked behind his head, as if daring you to contradict him further.

You shake your head, but the corner of your lips twitch upward despite yourself. There’s something about Satoru’s ability to simultaneously infuriate and amuse you that you’ve never been able to resist.

“On a real note, though,” he says after a beat, his tone softening just slightly as he tilts his head to look at you. “You okay?"

You cross your legs and angle yourself to have a better view of Satoru laying beside you. "Mhm," you brush off his concern. "Why?"

"Jus' checking in," he hums, sitting up and moving so he's closer to you. “You seem nervous.” 

His eyes stare practically into your soul with how intensely he is scanning you. You look fondly back at him, but the words you wish to say feel stuck in your throat, heavy and impossible to untangle. Your mouth twists as your mind wanders. 

It's been a few weeks since everything with Naoya happened at the frat. You're back to feeling like yourself, but the visits to Satoru's room or him crashing your own has become such a routine, you find yourself looking forward to falling asleep in his arms and getting butterflies when you wake up to him pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Obviously, you've been aware of your feelings for Satoru for a while now, but it never felt like the right timing. Plus, you've been so anxious of whatever Naoya seems to be planning. Your mental state was in such a frenzy for a bit, if you didn't have Satoru by your side, you're sure you wouldn't have even gotten up to use the restroom.

The past two weeks, with the help of Choso's concert, the world has regained it's color. The grey overcast that affected your vision and mind lifted, and the world was back to it's vibrant shades of red, green, and a cerulean shade of blue - the same color as the eyes that look at you so tenderly as Satoru talks to you now, lips moving but the words not processing in your head.

A sudden thought crosses your mind: Is he not upset for missing out the hangout with Choso because of you? Even if you only asked to come over a handful of minutes ago, it's been a routine lately to do so. Did he opt out of being with his friends because he was expecting you to invade his space once more? You've been intruding his life so much lately, you worry if he finds you annoying or secretly hates you or pities everything that happened to you.

No. You can't think that way. You're friends all tease you about him - they see it, too. If they thought there was no chance, they would never have encouraged you to make a complete fool of yourself after everything they've seen you go through.

What if he rejects you, though? Would you be able to handle that? You know you aren't the shell of yourself you allowed him to see after Naoya drained your spirits, but you're still rather sensitive emotionally. Worst comes to worst, could you even handle it? What if-

Your ears pick up on your name being repeated, and you turn to look at the boy who invades every thought in your head. He’s sitting up now, legs crossed and leaning close to you. ”Angel? You here with me?"

"Yeah," you mutter, sounding much more uncertain than you intended for it to be. "Sorry."

Satoru shakes his head at your apology, studying you with a look of concern as his gaze softens. He takes a deep breath, then speaks, "You got nothing to apologize for, mkay?" He reaches out, resting a hand lightly on yours. "I just wanna be there for you, baby. When you space out like that, I can't help but wanna hear what's going on up that head of yours.” His other hand pokes the side of your head, and a giggle escapes you. “What’s got you all anxious?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. With a heavy exhale, you respond,  “I guess I have something on my mind I need to get off my chest.”

He sits up more, propping himself on his elbows as he leans in, giving you his full attention. He crosses his legs to sit more comfortably. “Well, I’m all ears,” he says softly, his voice no longer teasing, but warm and patient.

You fidget slightly, your hands twisting the fabric of your sleeve, unsure of how to begin. The words feel heavy in your chest, and for a moment, you think about pushing them back down, retreating to the safety of the familiar silence between you.

You take a breath, the words finally bubbling to the surface, and they spill out before you can stop them. “I’ve been thinking a lot about… us."

You risk a glance up at him, and his expression remains unreadable, but the tension in his posture is gone, replaced with that soft, reassuring energy that makes your heart thrum faster than you'd like to admit. You quickly turn to stare at the end of your sleeve.

“Us?” His tone is gentle, concerned. Satoru takes his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. It serves as motivation for you to continue. 

“Yeah, I…” you stare at the hand laced with your own, memorizing the shape of the fingers curling around yours. “I know you’re aware I’ve been…struggling, I guess. And you’ve really been a rock for me this whole time. Thank you, by the way.”

“I’m glad I could help somehow,” he says, squeezing your hand firmly, encouraging you in your moment of vulnerability. “Happy to, really.” 

You smile, but it doesn’t last long. “I feel guilty for leaning on you so much. You’ve been so patient and understanding. I know I’ve been a lot to handle, but you’ve taken such good care of me.”

Satoru’s brows furrow, and he leans in closer, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “Hey,” he says firmly, his tone soft but insistent. “That’s what people do for the ones they care about. And I care about you. Y’know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I care about you, too,” you respond, face feeling warm. You turn away from him, finding the wall really interesting all of the sudden. “I’ve been so scared of you getting tired of me. Every bone in my body is telling me to stay away to avoid getting hurt again, but I just can’t get enough of you. I feel safe with you. I trust you, and I can’t keep ignoring how much you mean to me, Satoru.”

Satoru’s lips part slightly, and for a moment, he looks almost surprised, but the expression quickly shifts into something softer, more vulnerable. He tilts his head, his gaze never leaving yours. “Sweets, listen to me,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion. His thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles. “I will never get tired of you. You could show up at my door every single day for the rest of forever, and I’d still open it like it’s the best part of my day. because you are the best part of my day.” His voice softens, his words carrying a weight that makes your chest ache. “I care about you, not out of pity or obligation, but because you’re you. You’re the light of my life, angel. I want to be here, not just for the hard parts but for everything. You mean the world to me. I’m not letting anything happen to you anytime soon, ‘kay?"

You stare into the eyes of the boy you are absolutely enamored with. Your eyes are watery, tears threatening to fall. “You really mean all of that? You’re not just saying it?” You can’t help but be hesitant to believe him. 

“I’ll say it to you a million times and mean it just as much.” He brings your intertwined hands to his chest. “I mean every word I say. Could never lie to you.” 

You squeeze his hand tightly, pouring all the things you can’t find the words to articulate into it. Satoru's chest rises and falls with each breath, and you feel the steady beat of his heart under your palm. It’s like everything is slowing down, and for a brief, perfect moment, it’s just the two of you in this space, a bubble that no one else can penetrate.

“I know you’re scared, baby,” Satoru’s voice is soft as he confesses. “New things like this tend to be. Honestly, I am too. Knowing me, I’ll mess something up - piss you off too much or something, do something stupid that gets me in trouble. As much as it pains me to say, I’m not perfect. I’m gonna make mistakes, but I don’t wanna hold back just ‘cause of that.”

Suddenly, you pull back, realizing your faces closer than you realized. You understand what he’s saying, but you’re getting tired of tiptoeing around what you really want to ask him. So, with furrowed brows, you ask the question you’ve wanted to for a while now: 

“What is ‘this’ though, Satoru?”

Satoru freezes for a moment, as if your question caught him off guard. The easy smile he’s been wearing falters just a bit, replaced by a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He tilts his head slightly, his hand still holding yours, but his other reaches up, running through his hair in a gesture of hesitation.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. His eyes search yours, as if trying to find the right words—words that seem so simple, yet so tangled in the air between you.

“This?” he asks. 

“This. What are we? Because we aren’t just friends, that’s for sure,” you say, and with a newfound confidence, you continue on. “We’re something more, but I need to know what that is. What are you asking me for? What’s happening here? What do you even think of me?”

The words hang in the air between you, and for a brief moment, Satoru looks almost stunned. His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, and there's a tension in the way he holds your hand - it’s as though he's afraid of saying the wrong thing but also knows he can’t keep dancing around it either.

Satoru takes a deep breath, his chest rising as he seems to gather his thoughts. He shifts slightly, his thumb absently stroking the back of your hand, a soft touch that gives you comfort but also heightens the tension between you. He looks at you intently, like he's seeing you with new eyes full of emotion and vulnerability, the kind you’ve never quite seen in him before.

"You wanna know what I think?" he asks, his voice quiet but certain, as if he's weighing the question carefully, savoring the moment. You can feel his pulse, steady and strong, through the hand that's holding yours, and it brings you back to reality, the moment you’re in.

You nod, your heart pounding louder now that the question’s out there, and there's no going back. "Yeah," you breathe out, the simple word carrying all the weight of everything you've been holding back. "Please."

Satoru shifts slightly, still keeping his focus on you, his thumb still tracing a light pattern over your knuckles. His smile widens just a fraction, and you can see the playfulness return to his eyes, but it’s different - gentler, warmer, more sincere. “I think," he begins, his tone shifting into that familiar teasing one, but there's a softness there that makes your heart flutter, “you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” 

His free hand moves to cup your cheek. “I think you’re so, so strong. I think, even though I know we've only been in each other's lives for a couple months now, you've quickly become my favorite person to be around. I think that you’re caring, even to those who don’t deserve your care. I think you have the cutest laugh, the best smile.” His eyes don’t leave yours once as he speaks, and you feel yourself leaning up towards him. 

“Now, do you want to hear what I know?” As you nod, his thumb swipes tear you didn’t know fell. “I know I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I know there’s something between us. I know you feel it, too.” His eyes fill with uncertainty as he looks down at you.“Right?” You smile in response, unable to form the words to affirm his question. He seems to understand what you're saying, his eyes again brewing with some new conviction.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what this is, too,” he admits, his voice softer than it’s ever been. There’s no playful tease in his tone now, no flippancy. It's just raw, real. “Because you’re right, we’re not just friends, but I didn’t want to assume things or make you feel pressured. I’ve been trying to let you lead the way with what you’re comfortable with.” He shakes his head, leaning closer to close space between you, resting his forehead against yours. “But fuck, baby... I don’t know what this is either.” His fingers tighten slightly around yours; an anchor. “All I know is I want you.”

Blue eyes looks at yours thoughtfully. He moves a strand of hair out of your eye, tucking it behind your ear. “I’m not gonna push you to do anything you’re not ready for. We can take things slow, if it helps. Whatever pace feels right for you, that’s what I’ll follow,” he says, his voice steady, filled with care and patience. He leans in, his breath warm against your cheek, and for a second, you think he might kiss you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls back just slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt. You find yourself disappointed he backed away, frustrated at the newly formed space between you two. 

“We don’t have into rush anything. I don’t want you to feel like a new relationship is something you have to force yourself into,” he continues, his voice soft, almost like a promise. “We’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll be patient. Just… tell me what you need, and I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

Your heart feels like it might burst from the weight of his words, and you can’t help the soft smile that curls your lips. The reassurance, the tenderness, the way he’s been patient with you this whole time—it all feels like a beautiful thing you're afraid to touch, but it’s right there, waiting for you.

“I’ve told you what I think,” Satoru hums. “What do you think?” 

“I think,” you begin, smile turning into a mischievous smirk, “you should kiss me.”

“Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing whisper that makes your pulse quicken. He’s so close now, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible. “You sure about that, sweets?”

Your breath hitches as you nod, your heart pounding in your chest, but there’s no more hesitation. No more second-guessing. You’re done playing it safe. You want this. You want him.

“I’m sure,” you reply, your voice almost a breathless challenge. The tension in the air is thick, crackling with the promise of something inevitable, something you both know is coming.

Satoru’s smile softens, and in one smooth motion, he closes the distance between you. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s slow at first - tentative, testing the waters. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, both of you giving into the pull between you, the emotions that have been building for so long.

Satoru pulls back just slightly, his breath warm against your lips. “You taste so sweet, angel,” he mutters, his voice low, barely audible, like a secret meant just for you. His forehead rests against yours again, his breath shaky now. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.”

Your heart skips a beat, your body flush against his, feeling his heartbeat echo yours. “Then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as though saying the words aloud will make everything real.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a hint of nervousness in it, a rare vulnerability that you don’t often see from him. “I’ve been thirsting over you in your comment section for a month now… I haven’t exactly not said anything.”

You let out a soft laugh, the warmth of it mixing with the heat rising in your chest. The teasing tone in his voice is so familiar, yet this moment feels unlike anything that’s come before. It’s real. It’s raw. It’s you and him, and for the first time, you feel no fear of what might come next. “Yeah, I guess you’re not the most subtle. The girls even said something about it.”

Satoru’s lips quirk into a smile, but there’s a touch of mischief in his eyes. He brushes his thumb gently across your cheek, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than it needs to. “I just wanted to do this the right way, angel. I wanted to be patient, give you space, let you come to me when you were ready.” He shrugs. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t dying to kiss you every time you smiled at me. Or I was gonna pass up the chance to let you know you look good.”

The sincerity in his words hits you deep, and you feel a swell of affection, of something even deeper—something you’ve been craving for so long without knowing it. You want this. You want him.

And it’s all so real now, nothing holding you back; everything is out in the open.

Satoru leans in again, his lips brushing yours with a gentleness that contrasts the intensity of his words. He deepens the kiss, this time with more certainty, as if it’s not just a kiss, but a promise.

You respond eagerly, hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Everything else falls away in the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, the way his body molds to yours.

When he pulls back again, his eyes are dark with something unspoken, something you both know but haven’t yet named. His forehead rests against yours, and for a long moment, the two of you simply breathe, your lips still humming from the kiss.

“You’re positive this is okay, right?” he asks quietly, his voice laced with the same tenderness he’s been offering you all this time.

You smile, feeling your heart swell with something soft and steady. “Yes, Satoru,” you murmur, gazing up at him with more certainty than you’ve ever felt. “I’m positive.”

Satoru exhales, as if a weight has been lifted from his chest, and he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, savoring every moment. It’s not rushed, it’s not about urgency or need; it’s about the quiet, unspoken connection between you two, the foundation you’re both building together, step by slow, steady step.

And when you pull away once more, the air around you feels different. Lighter. Brighter. And somehow, you know this is just the beginning of something incredible. Something worth every step, every hesitation, every moment of uncertainty that led to now.

You can’t wait to tell Shoko everything.  

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

TAGLIST (currently open!):

@kentozwife @inthedarkshadows000 @yoimiya-m @makeshiftproject @frogfishie

@therealanxiety @kaged-kitty @pellucid-constellations @fuckisthatahotghost

@harryzcherry @briezy04764 @ohio-gyatt-mega-sigma-rizzler @babysoo-meu

@sorenflyinn @raquel12 @ermbehindyou @bxnfire @muli-wam @emlient

@diearama @miscellaneous-misty @blubearxy @twoderanged @kisakunt

@fallingpinkstars

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

THIS MAKES ME ASO HAPPY

[atomicrebelfire]

✍️ Dear 9-1-1 Fans: This Show Was Never About Sides

I wasn’t planning to say anything. I usually stay in my little corner of fandom, sharing fic and feelings and occasionally yelling into the void about how good this show can be when it remembers what it’s about.

But lately? It’s hard to look away. Even the Filters are not working. And Especially my DMs and inbox

Because what’s happening in parts of this fandom — the harassment, the false rumors, the obsessive need to tear down cast and fans alike — isn’t just exhausting. It’s ugly. And it’s so far removed from the heart of the show we all claim to care about.

Liking or disliking a ship? That’s normal. Wanting more scenes with your favorite characters? Also normal. Feeling a little unhinged about headcanons and canon gaps? Honestly, same.

But when that turns into harassment — when it becomes coordinated hate, spreading disturbing false narratives, or chasing people out of fandom just because they see potential in something different — it stops being fandom. And it starts being something toxic.

The internet is big enough. We can all exist without our elbows constantly banging.

This show has always been about complicated people. About messy feelings, shifting dynamics, and emotional growth — not perfection, not “winning,” and definitely not purity contests.

Fandom isn’t supposed to be a weapon. We’re allowed to love this deeply — but we don’t have to turn it into a war.

It’s supposed to be a place to feel things. To have fun. Be a bit crazy.

So if you don’t like a ship? That’s okay. If you miss the way the show used to center your favorite dynamic? That’s valid. But if your reaction to new stories, new characters, or a scene you didn’t expect is to go after actors or send hate to other fans — that’s not passion. That’s cruelty.

And some of us are really tired of watching something we love get twisted like this.

Fandom should be about the show — the full story, the arcs, the emotions, the incredible ensemble of characters that make it what it is. Not just one ship. Not just one narrative. Not one curated version of what “counts.”

And sometimes, it really does feel like that gets lost. Like 9-1-1 stopped being the center — and it became about defending one corner of fandom at the cost of the rest.

Can we just… pause for a second and appreciate what we do have?

The entire cast, the writers, the directors — the whole team behind the show — they’ve given us something layered, emotional, and constantly evolving. Even if we don’t love every arc, and we struggle with some choices, we’ve still been lucky to have a story that made us feel something.

That’s worth holding onto.

So let’s chill. Let’s have fun. It’s not that serious. It’s a fictional show. ✨✨✨

—

With love, a tired fan who still loves the show & Tommy🛡️💙📣 P.S. I’m not tagging that group. This isn’t about stirring the pot — I just needed to say it. For myself, and for anyone else quietly trying to enjoy the show.

[rooks-dagger]

My OC was written by...

Saw this awesome tag started by @fenrelmercar and thought I'd give it a shot 🤩 This was a lot of fun!

Rules: Pick an author, director or musician your OC could have been "written" by. Provide details on why you think they are a perfect match for that creator, or just lean into the vibes. Follow your heart's desires, even if your heart is feral. "Written by Charles Dickens and directed by high on LSD Christopher Nolan, soundtrack provided by Blue Man band" is a legitimate answer. Adding a little mood board with that exact vibe would be very much appreciated.

Ember "Rook" Mercar was written by Lee Child & directed by Guy Ritchie (soundtrack provided by Bon Jovi)

She's so unserious 😂 Now, let me explain:

Written by Lee Child: Ok, ok, don't judge me lol. I wanted something fast-paced and punchy for Ember and this fits the bill! I like how Child's writing shows Jack Reacher's situational awareness and combat expertise. Plus, Reacher and Ember share the same knack for getting mixed up with trouble even when they’re just trying to mind their own business lol.

Directed by Guy Ritchie: I really enjoy the jump-cut montages, quirky ensemble casts, and stylized fight/chase scenes of movies like The Gentlemen. Ritchie's mix of action and comedy fits Ember perfectly. She's always getting in and out of trouble, usually involved in something slightly criminal, and keeps a healthy sense of humor about the whole thing.

Soundtrack by Bon Jovi: Livin' On A Prayer is practically Ember's anthem. It's just such a fun, energizing song! I think 80s rock/glam metal and power ballads really match Ember's overall chaotic and enthusiastic "haha bet!" energy.

(Bonus) Played by Zendaya: So, I've got a writer, a director, and a soundtrack. Let’s add an actor! Enter: Zendaya. Honestly, I just think she's neat and could totally play Ember.

And the rest of the photos are all about the ✨ vibes ✨ Think Mission Impossible with a splash of John Wick, but in Minrathous. Crazy stunts, rooftop chases, awesome fight choreography. Add in a murder mystery, a heist, and a cult of blood mages... Well, that's just another day in the life of Ember "Rook" Mercar.

===

Gently tagging the lovely @dancing--lights @jouskaroo @augustnugs @dudewheresmynug @litchigaming @curiouswisp @grimrevolution @kindlyfeline + anyone else who sees this and wants to give it a go! (No pressure, of course!) 💜

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

What are your favourite TSAMS AUs?

I love @emhm It really takes advantage of the Multiverse in a way I haven't seen done in many tsams fics before. Mainly because it's not restricted by the limitations of VRchat. So they cane get really wild with dimensional travel.

Like... Cringe Moon is an Alicorn and Cringe Solar is a transformer car and they are dating? .....Sure! why not!

Solar's Moon dies and his body is repurposed as a factory default Moon and is given as a gift to the Lonely Sun who was built without a Moon?

Ruin in EMHM is an entirely different character then Tsams Ruin and he's just......... Insane? He just wants to put on a show and torture and harm everyone in the process for complete control... maybe due to the lack of control he felt in his home dimension when his control was taken from him? ......Sure, why not!

Servant Sun and Lord Eclipse in EMHM are an iconic duo. Realizing their feelings really recently and are in a committed relationship. But overall live in a utopia with little problems. The Lord struggling with his own mental health and slowly starting to realize the pull and help he can be for Suns and Eclipses that suffer in the multiverse. Also discovering that in Lord Eclipse's Dimension, the Original Sun and Moon were FAR more hostile to him then even the Prime Dimension... which is why Lord is the way he is.

It takes advantage of Dimensions not being One for one copies of eachother that I just really appreciate.

Just be sure of the ratings. Because there is one chapter that is very non-consensual oral, but every other nsfw parts are consensual. And the tag "poorly justified robot sex" is there for a reason lol.

I just like all the different takes on different Suns and Eclipses through the multiverse.

It has a very large ensemble cast and it never feels too big to me. It puts the focus on exactly what they want to, and when the plot points converge it's very satisfying.

I also really love @kuuchaos Backstage Au. It is definitely a "four main characters" fic, but it keeps it very condensed and focused on the inner thoughts of the characters.

Because it REALLY picks apart Nexus's trauma and the hypocrisy of the family in a way that is lacking for me in canon tsams. (Just due to the nature of VR and having things explained to you rather then them actually happening. NMoon was imprisoned, treated like a criminal, shocked and violated before he actually did anything wrong and I will never that that go. I still like tsams as it is, but this will be something I will scream and yell at clouds for years to come to anyone who listens lol)

Also I am damn weak for SolarMoon you know me.

While "SolarNexus" is nice. I often miss the softness that came with New Moon.

Chill says "Why not both" XD

Nexus has his trauma and his family definitely left their scars. As well as the NSP that got extracted from him. Nexus is a changed person, but he still has that venerable soft side that I loved about NMoon as a character so much. If anything, Nexus is far softer because of his trauma and experiences and the personality disorders that developed due to how everything happened.

I absolutely love their softer take on Nexus.

I also like their take on Sunset. (darksun. I swear I prefer the name Sunset and I wish it was the default, because that's what a Dark Sun IS... the Sun setting. It's perfect)

Sunset is written as a canonical sociopath, but you can tell he has a weird fondness for Nexus. As his plans around him keep changing. He used him and manipulated him, obviously. But he keeps Nexus around just as a curiosity. Nexus is like a Moon he let in his home. He almost sees having Nexus around the same novelty as being an Exotic Pet owner and it's fascinating to me and I can't wait to see how Sunset develops throughout this thing.

I also read other fics. But I'm way behind but those are like the main two I am the most confident about.

[nyx-thedragon]

Denton Could've Been Included in Livesies

I've been thinking this for a while, but just today wrote it down so I don't forget what I want to say about it. so. here we go

I think the stage production of Newsies could've had both Denton and Katherine, and here's how:

Denton works for The Sun (obviously) and Katherine is his intern. Denton finds out about the strike and tasks Katherine with gathering info so they can start writing articles about it together, and gain support for the strike. Kath spends more time with the boys than Denton, because he's always busy with other stuff, but he still exists and shows up for a few important events/scenes. He could be more of a recurring character than a side/supporting character. My thought for this is having a double casting; a background newsie/ensemble member could play Denton when a scene involves him, just have a pretty simple outfit change. Everything else could be the same. Adding him as a small recurring role wouldn't be a huge change to the story, and it would get an actual adult helping the newsies behind the scenes, rather than just a fellow teenager (Kath), which is one thing about 92sies that I love

The idea of these teenagers doing everything themselves, while kind of inspiring ("you can do things to change the world around you even if you're just a kid" type thing), makes me a bit...sad? Idk exactly how to describe it tbh (I think I talked a little bit about it in one of my "Newsies Thoughts" posts but idk which one). Like, having an adult helping them out could change things, because Denton would be able to do a more than the newsies and Kath can because he's an adult.

Idk let me know what you think. I've had this idea in my brain for a while and needed to get it out, and I figured a tumblr post would be great because I can get the idea out and get feedback from others! win-win! So yeah, feel free to reblog with your thoughts or put them in the tags, I'd love to hear other people's opinions on this (idk if anyone has thought of it before, but I haven't seen anything about it since joining the fandom on here).

uhhh I think that's it! I look forward to hearing your thoughts! Bye!

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore. 

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two. 

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you. 

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look. 

“I have a name, you know.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.” 

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship. 

“The Going Merry?” 

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours. 

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!” 

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.” 

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below. 

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky. 

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away. 

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself. 

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon. 

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.” 

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.” 

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.” 

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.” 

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.” 

“Yeah, but I know swords.” 

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.��� 

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.” 

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?” 

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.” 

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.” 

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.” 

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area. 

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?” 

You snorted. “No.” 

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?” 

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.” 

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.” 

“Was that a question?” 

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?” 

Zoro actually smiled at that. 

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?” 

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.” 

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was. 

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh. 

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck. 

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength. 

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack. 

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.” 

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you. 

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.” 

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.” 

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him. 

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted. 

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.” 

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect. 

“He’s good, huh?” 

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.” 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.” 

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?” 

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.” 

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.” 

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?” 

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth. 

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?” 

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.” 

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.” 

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?” 

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.” 

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.” 

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?” 

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled. 

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!” 

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.” 

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut. 

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.” 

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted. 

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet. 

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table. 

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him. 

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.” 

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets. 

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?” 

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.” 

“You don’t know why?” 

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking. 

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring. 

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies. 

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch. 

Just your luck. It was Zoro. 

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water. 

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties. 

Zoro was avoiding you. 

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates. 

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment. 

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him. 

“You’re avoiding me.” 

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.” 

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.” 

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes. 

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it. 

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?” 

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.” 

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—” 

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?” 

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her. 

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy. 

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?” 

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered. 

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.” 

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.” 

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!” 

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.” 

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look. 

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.” 

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded. 

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark. 

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry. 

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts. 

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you. 

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso. 

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will. 

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw. 

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you. 

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points. 

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you. 

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck. 

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said. 

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.” 

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?” 

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap. 

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?” 

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms. 

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.” 

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.” 

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.” 

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?” 

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?” 

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.” 

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered. 

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside. 

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest. 

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.” 

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least. 

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.” 

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze. 

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow. 

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?” 

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side. 

“You know a lot.” 

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn. 

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?” 

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned. 

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?” 

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.” 

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?” 

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.” 

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.” 

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle. 

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again. 

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch. 

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh. 

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.” 

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them. 

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.” 

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.” 

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat. 

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?” 

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.” 

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.” 

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.” 

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection. 

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut. 

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.” 

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.” 

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else. 

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest. 

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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© halfvalid 2023

[balrogballs]

thank you very much @i-am-a-lonely-visitor for the tag!

As we're finishing out 2024, what is one thing from your writing this year that you're particularly proud of? And what is one fic you wrote that you would recommend for others to read?

Ooh so this is the year I first started writing and posting Tolkien fic (the battering ram smutfic was a one off. battering ram georg should not be counted) during and after drafting novel 2, as a ‘writing reward’ and it has been really so fun all around + am glad I dipped my toes into the fandom space on here as well!

Something I wrote that I’m keen for people to read: I was going to say Cast in Stone but went with The Forest House — I really enjoyed writing Celrond not as tragic lovers but rather two weirdos who have been married for almost 2500 years, and the aggravating little domesticities herein.

Something I’m proud of writing:

This fic may not count as it’s a current WIP but it’ll be posted before the year’s out so I’m counting it. It’s a 4th Age ensemble Russingon + Celrond set largely in the Halls of Mandos (imagine heist film + war film + getting together) and I’ve really enjoyed getting to write more ‘meta’ elements and generally trying to engage with the lore itself and the way Valinor/ME works.

I avoided wider concepts for quite a while as I was concerned that I wasn’t enough of an “expert” on the source texts to write about the mechanics of the world itself, let alone even touch any of the Valar, and was also afraid I would sound too preachy or academic — am very happy I got over that hangup because it is genuinely very fun to fuck with Mandos 🤪🙏🏽

For next year, I’m hoping to write more Russingon because I’ve only done one so far yet I am OBSESSED now ✨

[aventurineswife]

Trick or treat :3

Trick-or-Treating Mishaps!

Summary: On a chilling Halloween night, you and Sebastian go trick-or-treating and discover a mysterious house offering enchanted candy. After indulging your curiosity, you unleash mischievous ghosts and a lurking specter. Together, you confront the supernatural chaos, forging a strong bond as you uncover the secrets of the night.

Tags: Halloween Special Fanfic, Human! Sebestian, Supernatural, Horror(kinda? I tried my best 😔), Adventure, Trick-or-Treating, Enchanted Candy, Ghosts(👻), Suspense, Platonic Relationship, Friendship, Human! Sebestian.

Warnings: Mild horror elements, Spooky themes, Paranormal activity, Intense situations, Human! Sebestian.

A/N: As someone who has never celebrated Halloween her whole life, I hope you enjoy this piece of fic 😇

The chill of Halloween night hung heavy in the air, the moon casting an eerie glow over the neighbour hood. Your heart raced with excitement as you adjusted your costume—a makeshift witch ensemble complete with a crooked hat. You turned to Sebastian, who was beside you, dressed in a simple black cloak. He had always had a serious demeanor, but tonight, something about the atmosphere made him appear more intense, as if he sensed the looming darkness around you.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, his voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of anticipation.

“Absolutely! Let’s get some candy!” you replied, your voice bright against the backdrop of creaking branches and rustling leaves.

The night was cloaked in darkness as you and Sebastian set out for a night of trick-or-treating. The crisp autumn air was alive with the sounds of laughter, distant music, and the rustle of leaves as other kids darted from house to house. Dressed in your costumes, you felt the thrill of Halloween, but the atmosphere had an underlying chill that sent shivers down your spine.

As you strolled through the neighbourhood, you admired the elaborate decorations—glowing jack-o’-lanterns, cobwebs clinging to trees, and ghosts hanging from porches. But as you turned onto a quieter street, the mood shifted. The lights flickered ominously, and an unsettling silence settled around you.

“Does it feel… off to you?” you asked Sebastian, glancing sideways at him. He nodded, his expression serious.

“Yeah. It’s too quiet here.” Just as you were about to suggest turning back, you spotted a house at the end of the street, adorned with an eerie glow and a sign that read,

“Magic Candy: Trick or Treat at Your Own Risk.” Intrigued, you exchanged glances with Sebastian, and he shrugged, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Let’s check it out. It might be fun.” you said, excitement mingling with unease.

Approaching the house, you knocked on the door. It creaked open, revealing a shadowy figure in a tattered cloak. With a raspy voice, he offered you a bowl filled with strange, glittering candies.

“Take one, if you dare…” he rasped, his gaze penetrating. You hesitated, glancing at Sebastian, who stepped forward, a protective instinct flickering in his eyes.

“Do you really think we should?” he asked, his voice laced with caution. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you reached into the bowl, pulling out a shimmering piece of candy that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

As you popped the candy into your mouth, an electrifying sensation coursed through you. The world around you twisted, colors blending and morphing, and suddenly, you were surrounded by ethereal, shimmering figures—ghosts that danced in the air, laughing and swirling around you.

“Whoa!” you gasped, your eyes wide with wonder and fear. “What’s happening?”

Sebastian’s face was pale as he took a step back, his instincts kicking in. “Stay close to me! We need to get out of here!”

But before you could respond, the ghosts turned their attention to you, their laughter echoing eerily. They moved closer, their translucent hands reaching out, and you felt a cold grip on your arm.

“Help!” you cried, panic rising in your throat. Sebastian immediately stepped in front of you, eyes narrowing as he faced the spectral figures.

“Get away from them!” he shouted, a surprising fierceness in his voice. The ghosts paused, their laughter fading into a low murmur, as if they were assessing him. A moment of tense silence hung in the air, and you could see confusion flicker across Sebastian’s face.

Just then, a larger specter emerged from the shadows, its eyes hollow and mouth twisted into a menacing grin. It reached toward you, and instinct kicked in.

You grabbed Sebastian’s arm, pulling him backward as you dashed for the nearest tree, pressing your backs against the rough bark, heart racing.

“What… what just happened back there?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I don’t know,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he peered around the tree. “That candy was definitely enchanted. I’ve never seen anything like those ghosts—or whatever was that thing.”

You shivered at the memory of the creature’s hollow eyes. “Why were they after the candy? And who was that man? He sounded… off.” Sebastian nodded, his expression serious.

“There’s a lot we don’t understand. That candy could have been a trap—something meant to lure unsuspecting trick-or-treaters into danger. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more going on in this neighbourhood than meets the eye.”

“But why now?” you asked, struggling to piece it all together. “Why do this on Halloween? Isn’t it supposed to be a fun night?”

“It might have something to do with the thinning of the veil between our world and the spirit world,” Sebastian speculated, his voice low as the specter’s form hovered dangerously close. “On Halloween, the supernatural often becomes more active, and it’s possible that the candy was some kind of conduit for those spirits to reach out.”

You frowned, the implications heavy on your mind. “So, this could happen… again?”

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the specter. “We need to be careful, especially if we encounter anything strange. And we should warn others.”

A chill ran down your spine at the thought of what might lie ahead, but there was a strange comfort in knowing you weren’t alone in this. “I’m glad I have you here,” you said softly, casting a sideways glance at him. “I don’t think I could face this kind of thing on my own.”

Sebastian gave you a quick, serious glance, and for a moment, his usual stoicism cracked, revealing a flicker of warmth. “I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll figure this out together.”

As the specter finally moved away, the tension in the air began to lift. You felt your heart rate start to normalize, but the shadows still danced at the edges of your vision. The laughter of other trick-or-treaters rang hollow against the backdrop of your encounter, a reminder that not everything was as innocent as it seemed.

“Do you think this was just a random occurrence or perhaps a dream or something?” you asked quietly, still peering out from behind the tree.

“I can’t shake the feeling that it’s part of something bigger and something real,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “We need to keep our eyes open. Whatever is happening here might not be over yet.”

Together, you stepped out from behind the tree, the night still young and fraught with mysteries yet to unravel. With newfound resolve and the strength of your bond, you ventured back onto the path, ready to face whatever the Halloween night had in store.

Does anybody play DTI 😭? I NEED HELP IN CH2!! 😭