#just gotta move to the next place. just gotta pray pray pray that i find an apartment soon. i dont even wanna say anything abt it bc im

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[nolita-fairytale]

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea. 

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like. 

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make. 

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call. 

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects. 

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

*

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation. 

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time. 

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests. 

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip. 

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare. 

“Marcus, 

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad. 

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days. 

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

*

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes. 

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement. 

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right. 

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air. 

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation. 

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent. 

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through. 

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction. 

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod. 

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.” 

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work. 

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them. 

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead. 

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares. 

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence. 

And how is his heart? 

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone. 

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces. 

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together. 

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land. 

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer. 

He waits. And then he waits. 

Until finally, he can answer. 

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity 

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to. 

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos. 

But this. But you. 

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient. 

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out. 

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created. 

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been. 

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry. 

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you. 

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen. 

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date. 

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval. 

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper. 

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor. 

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity. 

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room. 

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim. 

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart. 

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress. 

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff. 

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around. 

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time. 

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly. 

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus. 

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through. 

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in. 

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling. 

*

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you. 

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently. 

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night. 

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan. 

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently. 

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against. 

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs. 

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours. 

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation. 

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies. 

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body. 

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend. 

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him. 

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment. 

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision. 

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman. 

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life. 

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person. 

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark. 

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug. 

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it. 

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working. 

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes. 

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook. 

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board. 

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction. 

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours. 

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off. 

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left. 

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here. 

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice. 

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.” 

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation. 

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday. 

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling. 

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light. 

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier. 

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious. 

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you. 

“Deal,” you agree with him. 

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms. 

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales. 

He waits a beat. 

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands. 

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue. 

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.” 

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him. 

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out. 

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.” 

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. 

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.” 

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.” 

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly. 

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present. 

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?” 

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.” 

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start. 

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes. 

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy. 

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca. 

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously. 

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

[keeksandgigz]

i got this lil idea while i was packing to go back to uni- also this is me doing an exercise with dialogue :)

"God- fuck how is it still forty-one pounds?" you groan in frustration after Eddie tosses your suitcase back on your bed.

"Well, sweetheart, I don't think a sweater weighs two pounds- that's just me though" he throws his hands in the air in defeat.

"But I'm literally leaving a bag here and so many fucking clothes" you seethe "There's only so much stuff I can move to my backpack"

He picks it up and whistles "Praying for your back, baby, this thing is heavy. I can carry it for you, though" he chuckles.

"Eddie I don't know what to do" you pout, throwing yourself on the bed.

"Alright, alright, lemme take a look" and with that, he opens your suitcase to a neatly- stacked pile of clothes, socks, underwear and various pouches and bags "Stop pouting, baby, it makes me sad" he adds, a feeble voice adds to his sad little puppy eyes.

"I am sad! If I have to leave one more thing I'll cry" you protest as he rummages through your suitcase.

"There's no need to cry, we can just take out this pair of jeans- you literally never wear them and- sweetheart, why the fuck do you have a candle in here?" he takes out the little heart shaped candle he bought you.

"Because you got it for me! And it's heart shaped! Plus it's tiny it doesn't weigh that much" you complain, taking it out of his hands and tucking it back into a corner of your suitcase.

"Baby, take it out, you don't need the candle" he gives it back into your hands as he scouts for more useless things you don't need to bring.

"Eddieeeee" you bury your head in the pillow and scream dramatically.

"Why do you need two full- sized perfume bottles?" he takes both of them out "Choose one to leave here"

"No, you can't make me choose! The chai one is my favorite perfume" now hit by sleep and exhaustion, you're delirious in your whiny rambles.

"Okay, so we'll leave the chai and take out the sugar flower one" he says, reaching for the pink bottle to place on your desk.

"No! I literally just got it. Stop being so mean" you cross your arms again.

He lays down next to you, placing a kiss on your temple "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'm trying to help you, I can't just magically make your suitcase lighter"

"No, you're literally the devil right now" you hit him with a pillow.

He just laughs, he finds it funny how you ramble nonsense when you're sleepy "I'm being a saint, actually. I could just go home and let you deal with this conundrum by yourself" he chuckles.

"If you were a saint you'd let me take both. God didn't tell Eve to choose between Adam and the apple, you're being the snake" at this point the delirious ramble just makes Eddie fall into fits of laughter over what the fuck you're talking about.

You're also laughing, aware of how silly you sound, all whiny and sad over a bottle of perfume.

"You gotta choose, sweetheart, or I'm not letting you take neither" he threatens, at that you tense up.

"Alright, fine, take out the chai one" you huff, as he puts the other one back in the suitcase and closes it up, putting it back on the scale.

"See, I'm a genius, baby. It's thirty- nine pounds now" he snickers to himself, gloating in his victory like he won boyfriend of the month. Your eyes light up.

"Does that mean I can put the candle back in?" all he does is groan in frustration.

[wiinterz]

show me out | kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

pairing: roller skater!kyle x roller skater!black plus size fem!reader

genre: f2l, one-shot

warnings: cursing, flirting, usage of the n-word (like once), banter, fluff, added oc’s, kissing/making out, petnames (foxy, baby)

word count: 2.4k

summary: your group, ‘the foxies’ had been holding the skating rink together since y’all were eighteen. your best friend, kyle and his group, ‘shottas’ been coming in hot as long as you could remember. on a saturday you bet kyle that his group couldn’t be better than yours at skating, you taught him everything he knows and then some. but why is it every time y’all work together, things just move better and smoother?

recs | taglist | help hub | cod m.list

AIR CONDITIONING BLASTING THROUGH the rink as people roll through the area. Groups and couples came out during the weekend as og’s and newer groups danced around the rink. ‘Party Like A Rockstar by Shop Boyz’ played through the bluetooth speakers. Wheels pushing past against the carpet with food in your hands, you reach your best friends who were sitting down with drinks in their hands. The shakes of stomps hitting against the ground and whistles blowing with the tempo of the song, with people singing and dancing in a single file line.

Sitting down next to Kelsey, you place the food on the table, watching your friends grab some and place it on their semi-empty plates. Your eyes gravitate towards a couple, the guy holding onto his girl’s shoulder as she tries to help him walk against the carpet.

“He finna fall, watch.” Rossco chuckled, your fingers grab a fry and chew on it. “Stop praying on these people's downfall,” Carmen shouts over the music, Rossco rolls his eyes and continues to watch with you. Without missing a beat, the man scoots back a bit too far and falls, his feet going up in the air while his girlfriend yells and falls with him. The people around them stop their movements and look down at the couple as Rossco and Kelsey laugh at them.

“Y’all deadass wrong for laughing.” You grumble and Rossco nudges your knee, “You not laughing is what makes it even more hilarious.” Kelsey and him laugh a bit harder and other people help the couple find a seat as the dude huffs and takes off the skating shoes.

Looking back down, you go back to eating your chicken strips with fries and hot sauce on the sides. Taking sips on her blueberry slushie, Carmen looks around, sighing as her favorite song, ‘Tambourine by Eve’ plays. “Come on y’all, we gotta get before everyone else takes up the space.” She whines and Kelsey speaks up, “Ain’t nobody finna take up space, you see how big that rink is compared to everyone. Plus I doubt most know how to move it like we do. So you good.” Kelsey reassures Carmen, or at least tries.

You nod in agreement, “she’s right, just calm down.” Carmen sighs, crosses her arms, and leans against the chair. “Okay but still, ion wanna be sitting here all night now.” “And you won’t now chill,” Rossco says and hands her his plate of food to finish up. Looking back down at your phone, the sounds of the front doors pushing open and Carmen stopping herself mid-sentence you look back up. A sigh escapes as you see your best friend and his clique.

Gaz walks in, a smirk on his face when he notices you. He's looking up and down at you, taking in what you’re wearing. Your hair is in braids but up in a high bun with your edges done. You have on a yellow crop top with your name bedazzled across it. You had on denim shorts, gold necklaces, and gold hoop earrings. Wearing a dark lipliner and lipgloss, your bangles moved around as you picked up a fry.

Your eyes did the same to Gaz, looking at what he was wearing. He has on black loose shorts, a black tee, and a sweatband on his wrist. He wore his newest Nike, a single diamond earring on his left standard lobe. His homeboys, Ricky, Marcus, and Gio were standing next to him. All were fine and brought attention to themselves.

A girl you never cared for walked past Gaz as she winked at him and he winked back. A bit of jealousy pangs you but you try to play it off. “She ain’t even allat and he’s liking her off?” You question out loud, grabbing Rossco’s attention. He looks at her and shrugs. ���I mean she kinda fine, she got a fat a-” Kelsey hits his shoulder, looking at her and he kisses his teeth. “I think he means she ain’t all that for real, so stop,” Kelsey replies and you sigh, watching as Gaz walks up to you with his homeboys behind him.

His shoulders were back, chest out as he walked up, a smirk still on his face as he daps up people that he knows. You patiently wait for him, and as you do, your left leg starts to shake. You had no idea why he did this to you, made you a nervous mess, not that he hated it.

What made it worse was when y’all were alone and he gave you stares that said more than just friends but you ignored it each time. “Foxy,” he starts, his index finger holding up your chin, forcing you to look at him. Showing off his pearly white, you breathe and hold in your smile. Eyes glistening from the warm color lights as you stare at him, he was all you saw and you were all his attention he begged for.

If weak was a person, you would be the personification of that word.

“Gaz.” Your brow raises, he moves his finger from your chin and looks at everyone else. Waving at them they hum. “Saw you out on the streets the other day with wassaname?” Your tongue clicks against your teeth as Kelsey snaps her fingers. “Oh yeah, Aubrey?” She questions and you nod. Gaz playfully rolls his eyes and laughs. “So?” He shrugs, you shrug with him. “What, she wasn’t interesting enough for you or sum?” You ask, lightly punching his arm.

“I mean she is but eh.” He tells you, not sure what else to say about Aubrey, she wasn’t one of those girls he cared about. She was cute and had good intentions but he needed a bit more fire. Something he knows you could give to him, anything you dish out he could handle and make you stunned when he sends it back to you.

“So we’re gonna go on the rink or…?” Carmen injects, making you turn your eyes away from Gaz. You nod and stand, yet he doesn’t back up, keeping you close and locked in by the table.

His hand rests on it, and your chest raises when his eyes look down at your shirt. “What’s the magic word, baby?” His voice rasps, slowly looking back at you. You gulp and try not to fall back on the chair. “Excuse me?” Your voice almost cracks, and he hums and nods, moving away from you you roll from him and so does Kelsey, he widens his space for her as she rolls her eyes and talks shit under her breath. She never hated him, none of your best friends did. They all treated each other like siblings, which made it funnier when Kelsey would try and start an “argument”with him and end up losing in the end.

Going on the rink, you smile as ‘Show Out by Unk’ plays. Swerving from left and right as you crouch your knees a bit, Rossco follows behind, resting his hand on your left shoulder, and Kelsey and Carmen follow right after.

The DJ sees y’all on the floor, calling your group, people whistle and clap their hands, giving you more energy. As Rossco lets go of you, you all twirl, as Kelsey gets in front, raising her hands. Shouting out, “We ready!” As a group, you lean back as the rest of your best friends do the same. Carmen in the back, leans all the way, her fingertips touching the ground as you hold her waist. Gaz and his friends watch y’all, a smirk on his lips as his arms are crossed. He shakes his head, knowing that you two made that move.

Clapping your hands as you all get back up, you move away a bit from Rossco as he does the same, turning around, you both skate backward while Carmen and Kesley skate forward in a line. Eager to get on the floor, Gaz and his team stroll their way through. The DJ calls their group as everyone cheers for them.

He moves past you, raising a leg while letting it stay close to the ground, he squats down and keeps moving back. Laughing as you turn and look at him, rolling your eyes. Coming up to him, you mimic his move, the two of you, having your shoes close together as everyone claps, never seeing something like that before. “We better together, stingy lil’ girl.” He reminds you and you shake your head no. “Who the hell is we, nigga you speaking French or sum?” He chuckles and stands as you stand with him.

“I’m serious, we’re good together. Remember back in middle school, you and me making all these moves we taught our groups? Why aren’t we a group?” He questions and you raise a brow. “You mean a duo?” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “You know what I mean.” And you shrug. “Maybe cause we’re two dominant people who know damn well if we do, I might go as far as damaging your shoes.” You say and he nods.

“And I’ll damage your jewelry, now what?” He raises a brow and you nudge him. “Boy, if you don’t-” He laughs and you laugh with him. “Let’s do this right, okay? You and me, like old times.” He says and rolls off with his group. You sigh and stare at him, he was good but not great like you.

Rossco pulls up, dancing with the rest. “What was that?” He questions and you keep your eyes on Gaz. “A wake-up call.” Rossco hums, Kelsey comes beside you as Carmen stands next to Rossco.

“Y’all imma be back.” You tell them and push past people, getting to Gaz who's shouting out the lyrics to the song. He smiles when noticing you. “Guess you can’t leave me alone huh?” He questions and you roll your eyes, standing next to him. “Don’t get cocky now, alright? I’m just here for old times or whatever the fuck you said.” And he laughs.

Gaz grabs your hands and pulls you as you crouch your knees and push forward, going into a twirl. He catches you, grabbing both of your hands as you move backward, rolling on the tip of your skates. Pulling him closer, he mimics you, staring at your lips as you stare at his eyes.

Turning you around and pulling you to him, you feel your ass against his crotch, his left hand resting on your stomach, as his chin rests on your shoulder. The mixture of smells makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He got you wrapped around his fingers the way he wants and needs. “Foxy, foxy, and you said you ain’t miss this? Liar.” He whispers against your ear. Kissing your jaw and going back to moving with you. Butterflies all in you, feeling all lovey-dovey.

“I-I never said I didn’t. Just, shut up okay.” You warned and he chuckled, “Just teasing, just teasing.” Pulling you closer, you hold in a whimper as he shifts in a way to feel all of him better.

“I’m not dumb, I still know when a girl wants me.” He replies, “You’re so damn delusional and desperate for attention, Kyle.” He shrugs, “And if I am? I know a pretty thing in my arms will keep on supplying.” He whispers against your ear. Wrapping his arms around you, moving his right hand from your waist. He places it in the back of your pocket, holding your left hand as he turns you around to him. Placing your hands on his shoulder he grabs you closer and tilts his head.

“So damn beautiful.” His voice rasps out, you gulp, trying to contain control.

You look down, smiling at his compliment. Looking back at him, he holds your hand and moves you to the beat of the song. Resting your head on his chest, it becomes an intimate experience between you two. Forgetting the world around you, your friends watch, smiling ear to ear.

“Look at me, please?” He mutters, listening, you do. Seconds passed, feeling like minutes. Your lips ghost against his, and Gaz’s eyes flicker to your lips and eyes. Not stopping anything, letting things just be. Your lips press onto his, your hands coming up to his neck as he holds you closely. Holding your cheeks, he continues to kiss you, deepening it as you widen your mouth for him a bit. His tongue slips in, rolling around yours, lips lock. Pulling away, you both smile.

Resting your forehead against his, his thumb caresses your cheek. “I love you, okay? And I’m scared to mess this up.” He expresses, your heart feeling like a tidal wave, you breathe out heavily and nod.

“I love you too.” You whisper, his smile grows and raises your chin. “Now kiss me like you mean it.” He mutters and you giggle, pulling him into you more. You kiss him, passionately and slowly. Just the way you imagined.

i swear making this imagine had me giggling, i want this experience so damn bad omg.

[kalofi]

zl fic idea

hii everyone i wrote something yesterday about an au idea i had for zolu and. i thought i'd share it here since its a bit too messy and disjointed in places to post on like. ao3 or something.

4.7k words, warning for temporary major character death but do not worry all will be fixed in due time. i'll put the rest under the cut

ok i have an idea for an au thats like kind of reincarnation but like reality displacement but like. okay just listen.

so we start at laughtale. its a couple years into the future from where we are in canon the strawhats are achieving their dreams luffy is about to find the one piece theres a big battle happening between them and the blackbeard pirates and whoever the fuck else is there idc. the rest of the strawhats are fighting the bb crew while luffy and zoro head off to find the one piece and also end up fighting black beard himself. luffy and zoro atp r like basically a thing but they never talk about it cuz theyre luffy and zoro and they kind of just exist with each other but like. theyre basically in love and everyone knows it. anyway they go off together luffy has the one piece almost in his grasp blackbeard attacks they fight its a big battle blood is shed bones are broken uumm in my mind luffy and zoro are like teaming up against bb bc his devil fruit is lowk broken and op and like ok theres gear5 too but i didnt rly consider that so lets just assume bb’s devil fruit can negate gear5 somehow or luffy exhausts it before bb is fully defeated. 

finally theyre able to knock bb down and hes out and theyre both tired and worn but they DID IT and the one piece is luffys and theyre facing each other grinning ear to ear and zoros saying “you ready, king of the pirates?” and luffy laughs and goes “not just yet zoro, i still gotta-“ and then theres a spear piercing right through his chest. and in the next moment its gone. 

theres a gaping hole through his captain and theres blood, theres so much blood and luffy’s still smiling like he hasnt realized it yet, like it hasnt even registered. zoros ears are ringing and he doesnt know what to make of whats hes seeing because its just not real, it CANT be. 

he looks over luffy’s shoulder and blackbeard is on the ground with his hand outstretched , black energy coiling back into his form and he’s laughing and laughing with bloodstained teeth. hes fucking laughing. one moment zoro is still standing parallel to luffy and the next hes in front of blackbeard and the mans head is rolling through the dirt and gravel, wado dripping crimson, a terrible gap toothed grin still stretching the man’s cheeks. 

zoro is breathing heavy, hes trembling and hes almost mesmerized by the blood pooling around a lacerated neck— then he’s remembering luffy and turning around and calling his name and he can see right through him theres a HOLE right through him and he chokes and stumbles and rushes to his side right as luffy starts to crumple to the floor . catches him and lowers him gently and doesnt know what to say. 

hes still shaking but cant move his mouth and everything is muffled, the sounds from the battle outside are distant and they dont matter but what does he do. what does he do. 

he snaps out of it when luffy gently calls his name. a strong “zoro,” like hes not fazed at all. like there isnt blood soaking into zoros clothes. 

his brain kickstarts and he’s speaking. saying things like “youre ok you’ll be ok” and “choppers right outside i’ll just call him and he’ll fix you right up” and “you always bounce back, right captain?” and hes thinking “dont die please dont fucking die. not now, not when we’re this close please dont fucking die” and hes silently praying to all the gods he doesnt believe in but luffy calls his name again and his mouth clicks shut. luffys saying it’ll be fine, that he had fun. that hes proud to have made it this far with all of them. and those sound a lot like parting words so zoro’s shaking his head no but luffy is still smiling. hes saying that hes glad he had zoro, that he made him happy. hes saying to tell everyone he’s glad they met, that hes glad they all had each other, that he knows theyll be just fine . 

zoro wants to say that luffy should tell that to them himself, when hes wrapped up and recovering and alive but his mouth is glued shut again and he feels that interrupting luffy now would be cursing him to death, like his words are the only thing keeping him tethered here, he just needs to get him to keep talking to stay awake. 

he tries to smile but it comes out ugly and wrong and he feels his lip wobble so he drops it. he settles on rubbing his thumb on luffys shoulder. something to keep him here. 

so he rubs and luffy talks little things until he cant anymore. until his eyes grow dull and his skin loses its warmth and still zoro rubs and he rubs.

—

thats how law finds them. zoro hunched over a body that should never be as still as it is. and its really no surprise hes there, hes been gunning for the one piece since the time he could captain a ship (or a submarine) but it all feels so wrong. 

zoro either doesnt notice him or doesnt care, but either way the man doesnt acknowledge law until he’s right behind him. its not like law can say anything to announce himself either, not after seeing the state of the body that zoros currently holding. the body that used to be luffy’s. hes still processing it all when the other man(the one whos alive) finally speaks. 

zoro asks if hes got a devil fruit. less of a question and more of a statement, but he should know anyway since theyve spent considerable time together and hes literally seen him use it. law cant unstick his jaw so he hums in affirmation. “and you can switch stuffs’ places?” another hum. “what about time.” 

that makes law pause. “what?” his voice comes out stronger than he feels. 

“what about time? can you switch things in time?” by this point law has awakened his devil fruit or some shit dont sweat the logistics but hes never tried anything of that sort so he kind of stumbles “im not- maybe? ive never attempted-“ zoro interrupts “send me back” 

“what?” 

“send me back so i can fix this. you can do that, right.” it clicks. law would pity zoro if he didnt know any better, instead he just feels mounting despair and resignation. 

he may not be crew, but he knew luffy too, he was allied with the man for fucks sake, and this just feels- wrong. he sighs, a tired, heavy thing. 

“what about your crew?” its useless. zoros as stubborn as his captain, with arguably a handful more screws loose. “it wont matter. they’ll never know because i’ll make sure this doesnt happen.” he still hasnt turned around. law doesnt know what expression hes making and hes sure he never wants to find out. 

hes ready to deny it, cut his losses and head for the one piece himself (hes not heartless, but if he stands here any longer and has to look at. well. he think he might never be able to move again) but then he really thinks about it. could he? would it even be possible? surely this isnt the way things were supposed to go, surely this isnt right. luffys never been one who was supposed to die just like that, like this, law knows that much. he thinks hes going to regret this, but he counts it as one last thank you for everything luffy did for him. 

youre gonna owe me big time strawhat-ya. if i even remember this, that is. 

he puffs a breath “i can try. i cant- promise anything but. i think we both know this,” he makes a vague, weak gesture, “isnt right.” 

zoro doesnt say anything, law didnt expect him to. he just bows his head slightly and law takes that as the acknowledgment it is. 

he brings his hand up, “dont do anything stupid, zoro-ya. or, at least, make it stupid enough to bring him back.” 

he positions his fingers in way so familiar, but the weight of it now is nearly unbearable.

room.

shambles

—

zoro’s world shatters, differently than before, and then theres nothing.

—

he wakes up in bed, bleary eyed and a pounding headache assaulting his senses. his alarm clock is going off which only adds to the drumbeat against his eyes. he grumbles and whacks around aimlessly to shut it off. the silence lasts a moment before his eyes fly open and he jolts up, sheets pooling around his waist. luffy. where was he? where was zoro? did the crew find him and take him back to the ship? did law fail? but this didnt look like chopper’s office.

he looks around to find hes in a room hes never seen before in his life, yet he instinctively knows is his. it all feels so wrong, like he doesnt belong in his own skin. he scratches lightly at his arm. he needs to go to work. 

work?

what the fuck is happening. 

its like his mind is at war with itself, one truth trying to dominate over the other. he trained at sensei’s dojo. he aged out of foster care. he was a swordsman, he was the first mate of the strawhat pirates. he didnt go to college, hes working construction. he made a promise, and kuina died. kuina…died. huh. his captain, his luffy, someone he knew so intimately and who knew him in turn. hes never met someone with that name his entire life. he needs to go to work, he needs to find his crew. 

he doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening. 

without his permission his legs stand him right up and he moves confusedly, surely, to the bathroom he didnt know he had. his reflection stares back at him in the mirror and its him, of course it is, he doesnt know why he expected someone else, but hes also…different. he has both function of his eyes, first of all. a scar in the same place as before but its light and healed over and doesnt seem to have blinded him like it once did. his hair is green, sure, but black roots peek out from underneath the familiar shade. hes grown stubble, he should shave. he needs to go to work. 

hes so confused, but his body moves like its been doing this its whole life. as far as zoro knows, it has. 

he continues getting ready, mind still at odds, and makes himself a cup of coffee (in his own kitchen. his own kitchen? the state of it leaves less to be desired. sanji would surely skin him alive) before tucking into his shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. he seems to live in a single room apartment, and a crummy one at that. his legs move him faster, he has to go to work, he cant be late again (again?).

his car is parked outside the building, he has no fucking clue what it is but he unlocks it all the same and settles in. he feels like he shouldnt be operating this sort of machinery. franky would know better than him how it must work. he starts it up and backs out. trusting his gut to get him where he needs to be. he should be more concerned, he should be frantic and inconsolable, his captain was dead in his arms and now hes? what? going to lay some bricks or some shit? but he finds that part of him dulled in favor of following whatever mundanity this body is pushing him towards. 

uumm whatever whatever he arrives at work eventually i dont know how construction jobs work are there offices or something. idc thats not the point. johnny and yosaku are there and zoro is surprised to see them since, as far as he knows, the last time they were with each other was at arlong park which was years ago for him. but the two greet him like this is a daily occurence, like theyve been working together for years. and zoro thinks, knows, they must have. but this is good, this is great fucking news actually because until now theres been no confirmation if zoro was here alone (wherever “here” is) but now his proof is right in front of him because if johnny and yosaku are here, and they exist the same as from before, then that must mean everyone else is here too right? he clings onto this hope with both hands trembling. 

nami, usopp, the cook and chopper and robin and franky, brook, jinbe and fuck. fuck, luffy. theyve got to be here somewhere, zoro just has to find them. hes not sure if they remember things like he does but hes got to try because they are his as much as he has always been theirs and they should all exist together as it has always been. 

so then yeah he finishes his shift because its what hes ‘supposed’ to do but he doesnt go home. he drives around aimlessly before pulling into a random lot and pulling out his phone (theres no snail attached to it. weird.) he doesnt even know where to begin. hes not usually the one coming up with plans, he just goes where theres blood need to be shed. but no one seems to be in any danger here except for maybe himself, and its not like he has his swords anyway- shit. fuck did he still have wado? he must have right? he knows there was a kuina that existed here too, he knows because he remembers. and she, well she wasnt around anymore so he must have wado. he must. with shaking fingers he pushes that aside for now, though barely. he needs to find luffy, but he wouldnt even know where to start. luffy could probably find the rest of their crew by simply wandering around and happening upon them, thats how he did it before. but zoro has no idea where he’d be, he doesnt even know where he is. nami or robin would be a good bet to at least form a plan, but he wouldnt know how to find them either. 

is there even a coco village here? would robin still be part of baroque works? he needs someone who has a defined location that he could google or something (what the hell is google?). usopp would be at syrup village right? shit. is there even a drum island? these are all too broad, he needs something specific. specific…..a place with an identifiable name, somewhere smaller that would be easier to stake out…

a lightbulb goes off. 

fucking shit he thinks. of course. of fucking course it would come down to the cook. 

he types in “baratie” to his maps and a location pops up, just 27 minutes from where he is now. he hasnt eaten yet either, so he figures thats killing two birds with one stone. he taps the address, backs out of the lot and drives. 

(if it takes him nearly an hour to get there thats nobodys business but his own)

he pulls up to the building about a quarter after 7. it seems packed enough already, but if memory serves him right then that was just par for the course for baratie. he parks, gets out and locks his car, then shoves his hands in his pocket and resigns himself to another oncoming migraine hes sure to get upon interacting with the man hes certain is waiting somewhere inside. 

the tables are full, the host tells him, he slips a 20 from his wallet and suddenly (of course) theyre more than willing to serve him. 

he gets settled in a far and somewhat isolated booth and a waiter comes up to him, but he cuts the man off as hes introducing himself and says “you got a blonde working here? stupid ass side part with a weird eyebrow? goes by sanji” the waiter looks shocked and put off by his rudeness but quickly collects himself and says “we might. depends on whos asking” zoro snorts “just tell him hes got someone who wants to talk to him,” he cringes at this next part, tries to smile but knows it comes off as a sneer. hes not sure if he still has conquerors haki wherever he happens to be now, but he tries to channel that energy the same way he would if he were in battle and says “tell him im a fan.” the waiters eyes widen, in fear or surprise zoros not sure (most likely a mix of both) before he nods and scurries across the floor, weaving in between patrons and coworkers alike until he disappears behind the double doors to the kitchen. 

zoro sits with his arms crossed and skims through the menu out of boredom and impatience. its a couple minutes before he sees a familiar head of blonde hair emerge from across the way. a smile climbs onto his face despite himself. sure, the guy annoyed him to hell and back and their…friendship (if you could really call it that) was a tumultuous one, but it was good to see someone familiar nonetheless. he schools his expression before the blonde can spot him. a few moments pass before hes standing right in front of zoro, his stupid suit primped and pressed as always, and a cautious look on his face. 

“you asked for me?” his tone is the one he only reserves for men who he deems not worth his time. zoro grits his teeth but says “yeah, theres something ive gotta discuss with you.” 

hes never been one for tact, forever blunt unlike his swords. 

sanji quirks a brow “i dont plan on talking about anything with anyone unless theyre a paying customer” zoro feels his eyebrow twitch but grabs his menu nonetheless and points to a random item without looking “i’ll have this then, and whatever booze you got.” sanji leans in to see what hes pointing to before his one visible eye widens and a grin slowly overtakes his previously unaffected face. 

he speaks condescendingly. “wonderful choice sir, coming right up.” before zoro can get another word in he grabs the menu out of his hand, spins on his heel, and marches back to the kitchen. 

zoro clenches his fists and does his best not to grind his teeth into a fine dust. no matter where they are or what displacement in time the fucking curly brow never fails to be absolutely insufferable. at least this way though, zoro knows its him for real. 

its another 20 minutes before the shit cook reemerges from the back with a platter and a mug in his hand. he steps up to zoros table and places the plate and cup down in front of him with a smug look. zoro has no idea what the fuck hes looking at on his plate. he doesnt have time to question it before sanji plops down in the booth seat across from him, disregarding all previous faux-professionale and asking “so what do you want” zoro tears his eyes away from his plate and looks into sanji’s, trying to convey as much emotion, as much urgency as he possibly can. 

“luffy needs us. and we have to find him” whatever the cook was expecting him to say, it definitely wasnt that. the other man regards him more warily now, looking him up and down with a tense frown before replying “i dont know what the hell youre talking about. and i dont appreciate being mocked or having my time wasted” he goes to stand up but zoro grabs his wrist, yanking him back down unceremoniously. 

he blinks before rounding back on zoro, flaring his nostrils in a way zoro knows means hes about to get himself in deep shit “oi, what the fuck do you think youre-“ he doesnt let him finish “im not mocking you. this isnt some stupid prank or whatever youre thinking. and despite how much i would enjoy punching your teeth in right now im not looking for a fight either.” 

the cook still looks affronted but seems to actually be listening. zoro continues “look, i dont know what the fuck is going on. i was at laughtale with you and the others, with luffy, and then i woke up and now im here and i dont know how but this is all wrong. its all wrong but i need to find luffy and fuck, i cant do it alone. i need your help to find him. find everyone.” the blondes eye is wide, but he blinks and its gone. he looks more tired than zoro has ever seen him 

“im not paid enough for this shit. i dont know why i even-“ he looks like hes getting ready to leave again but zoro is desperate at this point so he blurts out whatever he thinks will convince the other man hes not bullshitting.

“we met you here, at the baratie. me and nami and usopp and luffy. luffy busted through one of your walls so your old man punished him by making him wash dishes. i dont, i dont know what luffy said to you, or how he convinced you to join us, but he changed your life like he did mine. we sailed together, and we had each others backs no matter how much we got on each others nerves. you were our cook. i was our swordsman. luffy was our captain and youd do anything to help him, i know you would, same as me. youre a pervert and an asshole and a damn annoyance, but youre strong. i could still kick your ass though” if the cook’s eyebrow could go any higher hes sure itd be clear off his forehead by now. 

“and you- your dream. you wanted to find the all blue.” he stalls there, engine sputtering. zoro doesnt know what else to say, so he snaps his mouth shut. 

the blonde is still gaping at him like a fish, but he mouths the phrase “all blue” like hes been searching for it his whole life, like he always knew but just never had the words. 

he blinks. 

then he blinks again, rapidly. there are tears pooling in his eyes. his mouth flaps for a moment before he seems to finally be able to push out words. 

“you- zoro?” he sounds small. he sounds hopeful. zoro grins. 

“yeah, yeah its me.” sanji stares at him a moment, then looks around, as if hes seeing everything with clear eyes for the very first time. zoro figures he might as well be. 

“holy shit. holy shit.” 

zoro laughs, a rough thing. theres a ball in his throat that he cant seem to dislodge. “nice to have you back, curly brow” sanji’s gaze snaps back to him before he scowls and tries wiping away the tears that are now streaking down his cheeks. its useless though, it seems they cant stop. zoro laughs again at the sorry state of the asshole in front of him, this time more full and genuine. he feels so relieved he doesnt know what to do with himself. 

“yeah yeah, whatever dick head.” sanji grumbles. zoro quiets down, glances away, lets him have his moment. “fuck, mosshead, im still on the clock and you unload all this on me? how the hell am i supposed to finish the rest of my shift?” his words are sharp but he doesnt sound angry at all. in fact, when zoro turns back to look, hes smiling. 

“you remember now though, dont you?” he has to be sure. 

“what does it look like, dumbass? think im tearin’ up cuz of pollen or some shit?” the cook rolls his eye. theyre both silent for a moment, trapped in their own heads, before he speaks up again. “so, what now?” zoro doesnt even have to think before he answers “we find everyone else, obviously.” “well no shit, but how?” zoro glances to the side. “i was hoping youd figure that out” sanji stares before bursting out laughing. zoro scowls and hunches into his shoulders. 

“of course!” sanji cackles “of course your dumbass wouldnt know what to do! you probably just typed in the most recognizable place you could remember and hoped one of us would be there!” zoro doesn’t answer, because yes thats what he fucking did, but it worked didnt it? he doesnt see whats so funny. 

“fuck you.” 

he wants nothing more than to bash that smarmy mouth in, but the familiar egging settles something in his soul. sanji gasps a few breaths before calming down, now wiping tears from his eyes for a completely different reason. 

“alright alright, well lets figure this out then, yeah? we figure out how we got here then we can figure out how to get back right? simple enough” 

zoro nods, “law was-“ he stops. remembers dull eyes and clammy skin and wrong wrong wrong. he shakes his head, “no, no we cant” sanji looks at him confused. 

“we cant go back,” zoro presses, “not until i fix things. i promised i would” the other man seems to pick up on his panic and his mood dampens, becomes more serious. “promised what?” 

zoros never been one to sugarcoat, but now he wishes he could find a way to soften the blow hes about to deal. he inhales, pushes the breath out. says, “luffy died, sanji.” the fact the hes actually using the other mans name seems to fly right over his head in favor of the first part. “what?” zoro huffs, is he really gonna make him say it again? “luffy di-“ sanji interrupts, angry now, fists clenched and whitened from the pressure “i heard what you said. but what do you mean.” 

he doesnt want to have to tell sanji what happened, doesnt want to talk about it at all, wants to slice it up into small enough pieces that it very well may have never existed.

he told law the others wouldn't have to know, that he would make sure of it, but he's realizing now just how unrealistic that is. as much faith as zoro places in his own abilities, he's aware he's only one man.

and, he figures, if there's anyone i can trust enough to share a burden heavy as this with, might as well be the one who's strength i'd count on just as much as my own.

sanji cant help if he doesnt know what went down once they got separated at laughtale, so zoro sets his shoulders, clenches his fists, prepares himself like hes riding into a battle he knows he has no chance of winning—hes the first mate for fucks sake—and resigns himself to filling the other man in on every horrible detail

by the end, the cook looks much the same as zoro feels, pale-faced and shaky. he runs a trembling hand through his hair and clenches his eye shut. “fuck mosshead, thats…” he doesnt bother finishing, and zoro stays silent—already knowing just how much of a shitty situation it is that theyve found themselves in.

—

(btw the reason sanji was so smug about what zoro randomly chose on the menu is bc its one of their most expensive dishes. even upon regaining his memories he still makes zoro pay it cuz hes an asshole like that. business is business 😁)

uuummm i dont feel like detailing the rest basically my idea is that they work together to try and track down all the members as well as law, since hes also a part of this. i dont know how or when or in what order but i do know finding luffy would come last. so yes its zolu but for a majority of it more in spirit than anything. maybe i can throw in some luffy pov of him living with ace and sabo . he knows something is off but cant place his finger on what. he knows something is missing but hes got his brothers with him so what else could he possibly need? etc etc. you get the idea

[bellarkeselection]

Hello I was wondering whenever you get a chance if you don’t mind doing a kayce Dutton or rip wheeler one shot where the reader is pregnant and gets hurt during the shooting on the ranch and they find them and freak out

Scared Out of my Boots

I could barely keep my eyes open once I had made it outside onto the main house porch holding my side where one of the bullets had hit me. A black truck kicked up dust in the driveway seeing me stumble down the steps until I collapsed into someone's chest. "Woah Y/n. Shit I've gotta get you to a hospital." Even though my ears are ringing I could make out it was Rip’s voice where he carried me to the truck as best as he could. Laying my head on my shoulder I moaned resting my hands on my pregnant belly today would mark 7 months pregnant for me. "Stay with me Y/n. I'm getting John then we're getting you two straight to the hospital." Rip hollered before my eyes fell closed where the next thing I heard was the beeping of a hospital monitor in my ear.

Squinting one eye open I winced at the harsh light so my gaze moved to the floor seeing an iv sticking out of my left hand. Closing my eyes again I sucked in a breath hearing someone shifting in a chair in the room. Glancing towards my bedside I gasped seeing my husband laying asleep in a chair with a bandage visible underneath his shirt that has risen up by how he's laying. "Kayce...Kayce wake up. I'm okay." I called out to him but started coughing from how dry my mouth is which makes him wake up. He shoots awake in his chair tears immediately pouring down his face where he leans forward kissing me suddenly. Leaning into it I kissed him back until he broke it intertwining my right hand with his left smiling. "God Y/n you had me shaking in my boots when Rip told me what happened. I thought - I thought you and the baby were going to - die!" He cried through happy tears in relief that we were alright.

"Kayce, what - what happened to us?" I croaked out resting my other hand on my stomach praying that our baby would live after this trap. He wiped his nose with his sleeve placing his other hand over mine on my stomach. We already had Tate but this time we were trying for a baby girl. "Somebody attacked the entire family. The ranch, my sisters office and my dad. We don't know who it was but don't you worry we'll find them...nobody messes with my family and gets away with it!" Squeezing our intertwined hands I sniffed through some tears too relieved that he's alright. "I know babe. I know you'll take them to the train station...just promise me that you'll come home to me...to us." He leans forward kissing me softly again then kissed my belly whispering back. "I'll always come back Y/n darling. Always I promise."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[kimberlyannharts]

LAST TIME ON POWER RANGERS: Ranger Slayer got herself captured by Dark Specter's forces while saving Drakkon's ass. BUT Drakkon makes up for it by saving HER ass from Dark Specter's corruption. BUT, he died in the process. So that means Slayer now has to save everyone's ass. Again. Seriously, this is like the third event where Slayer has to save everyone.

it's Power Rangers Unlimited: The Morphin Masters!

= so Drakkon and Slayer training together is canon, okay cool, book over, I got what I need

= But moving on from that these panels specifically make me crazyyyyy because what do you mean Tommy and Kim together means "happy ending"? What do you mean referring to Kim as Tommy's guardian angel? What do you MEAN redrawing Drakkon's death scene as more intimate than it was in 116????????

= MY STUPID EX-HUSBAND DIED ON ME SO I HAVE TO GO ON THIS STUPID QUEST

= So something cool about these energy beasts - they're all tied to ranger powers! A yellow bear, a red lion and ape, a gold praying mantis, a white rhino, and an orange scorpion. Sure, the latter wasn't TECHNICALLY a ranger power, just a zord, but there's a point to the "the PR universe did have Kyurangers at some point" theorists

= I just like this panel because it's silly. she's got the zoomies

= Slayer continuing to win the idgaf war against literal deities

= and then they founded an animation studio that gave us the Minions. so unfortunately they gotta go

= but in seriousness, I guess this is how we're going to rationalize how the MMs were portrayed in Beyond the Grid versus how they were portrayed in Power Rangers Universe - the BtG guys were a couple specific higher-power ones. It's fine, I guess. I'm still not a fan of the idea of an entire civilization just calling themselves Morphin Masters, though. Just make.....THESE GUYS the Morphin Masters. Why are they ALL the Morphin Masters??????? Now we have to establish a SUB-SECTION of the Morphin Masters!!!!!!!!!

= Slayer holding Drakkon and his death in high regard like this.......god. god.

= oh hi Blue really cool to see you again hope you don't die in the next few pages

= oh well never mind. Guess we're never going to find out why they came back to life, which was their reason for going into the Grid in the first place, huh

= I do like how we're going back to referring to Blue with they/them pronouns. I guess in hindsight we really were just misgendering them for years. awesome

= I'm glad we're fully acknowledging all the shit Slayer has gone through but I will admit my immediate reaction to the "it was fire" line was "she would not fucking say that". Maybe as a teen, sure. But NOW?

Pink: follow me to the orifice

Slayer: .....the ORIFICE?

= oh hey guys, how have you been since you got retconned into existence and therefore have accomplished nothing in the main series

= I know this is supposed to be a whole thing of "ohhhh these guys think they're free but they're still being controlled yada yada" but at the same time as someone who hated the Emissary retcon and wishes that we could have gotten more from the characters as they were before........them being angry over losing what they had is very very good and I wish it wasn't done through "evil corruption magic." It was good with corrupted Slayer because they dedicated an entire issue to it and FREED HER at the end, allowing more time and space for development; here it's just a quick fight scene and in the case of Blue, followed up with death. And slight spoilers here, even if they don't die here, the way the Emissaries have been dropping like flies doesn't give me much hope for their survival if they show up in the main series

= I wonder if this is a reference to how in an early draft for the Ranger Slayer one-shot, the Bow of Darkness was going to be broken in half by Zombie Rita and Slayer would have used it as dual swords. Either way it's fucking cool

= also while the inclusion of Dino Thunder as one of Pink's forms is a simple mistake, it takes me back to those old DT AU fics where Kim became DT Pink. They're canon now guys, no takebacks!

= So turns out the "Illumination" are just a bunch of senile grandpas. Yeah, that's.............the big revelation for where the Morphin Masters have been. ok

= Now let me just say for this story, the Morphin Masters being useless is a fine decision, for the same reason why the Morphin Masters were useless in Dino/Cosmic Fury - you can't have these overpowered god figures show up and fix everything with a wave of their hand. This applies to every story ever - the god-like figure is captured, or dead, or simply doesn't care enough to interfere. It's a very basic and logical choice for a narrative in order for our actual grounded protagonists to be the heroes.

HOWEVER. It's another instance of Boom hyping up these kinds of storylines as groundbreaking revelations of PR's mythos for years just for the actual reveal to be kind of a letdown. Phantom Ranger's identity. Dark Specter being a major villain. The Squadron Rangers. And now the Morphin Masters' current status. All hyped-up concepts that either get rushed or end up secondary to other concepts, and in the end, don't feel like they matter. It's getting to be a bit tiresome, and I'm saying that as someone who doesn't hold PR lore high on her list of reasons I enjoy the franchise in the first place. And it doesn't help here that, as I've said before, it just feels more like a way to stretch out this event to fill its year-long timeframe. By the end of this book, nothing was accomplished except two more Emissaries are dead (not that they did anything before this) and I guess Green and Black will eventually join the fight, so what was the point of it all. Slayer never really believed the Morphin Masters would help them anyway, so it's not like she changed by the end either - Pink was the only one who really developed as a character, and, well......

= Pink quick eat an imaginary Snickers you're not you when you're hungry

= this is the third person Slayer has killed in two books. she's so good at her job

= also you may have noticed that we've killed two Emissaries and they're not turning to stone nor having a giant spider boi burst out of their bodies. It's soooooooooooo cool how that entire story arc meant nothing in the long run

= ugh yes queen swear off religion just like that

= also at this point Drakkon has wielded the power of a Morphin Master and Slayer was offered the position of one. What I'm getting at here is Tomberly are indeed divine figures

[whumblr]

So I really liked the Duct Tape piece for Home is Where the Hurt Is, and I was wondering if you would be open to maybe doing another drabble with burns? I just think that Zayne would have fun with that. Of course, feel free to ignore this. Your writing is amazing! Especially Home is Where the Hurt Is, I just keep re-reading it over and over again.

Thanks so much <3 Here's to Zayne having fun 🤝

-

Smoke break

“Didn’t you want to know more about that arson case the other day?”

The glee in Zayne’s voice hinted at something more than just sharing information and Jay’s guard instantly went up.

“I’m suddenly really okay with never fully understanding that case,” he said.

“Don’t be like that. Here, I’ll share the process with you.”

“No, really, I’m good—” But a hand clamped around his wrist and pulled him in close to Zayne. A pointed glance to the floor and he took a deep breath, taking the hint, to sink to his knees. Zayne followed, pulling up the footstool and settling over Jay, hand still wrapped around his wrist.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

“You smoke?” Jay nervously deflected, stalling. He pretty much knew what was coming, but hey, he could still pray that he was wrong.

“Nah, I mean, in me teens, yeah, but not anymore.”

He tucked the cigarette between his lips and reached into his other pocket, fishing out a lighter.

Prayers unanswered, Jay tensed up.

Zayne flicked the lighter open – drawing a light flinch from Jay – and lit the cigarette. He fully inhaled, his own little way of stalling and making sure he had Jay’s full attention, then slowly blew out the smoke in Jay’s face.

Jay turned his head, coughing, not fully able to twist away with Zayne holding him. And with him still coughing, he was caught off-guard when Zayne suddenly pulled him in, stretching his arm out.

“See,” Zayne muttered, cigarette dangling between his lips bouncing on every word, and he reached out to Jay’s wrist to fiddle with the cuff button, “our mutual prick is very keen that no evidence is left behind.” He pulled the cuff up to Jay’s elbow, exposing his forearm, keeping Jay in place as the guy yanked at the tight grip on his wrist.

Jay nervously followed his moves, but found his attention kept being drawn to the cigarette, flickering in the corner of Zayne’s mouth.

“So I can’t just light anything on fire, police would be able to tell.” Zayne continued. He blew out another few curls of smoke through his nose, and caught the cigarette in-between two fingers, twirling it slowly so he held it upside down between index finger and thumb as he lowered it towards Jay’s forearm.

Muscles flexed under the heat.

“Don’t,” Jay whispered.

“How’s the burn on your side?”

“Still healing. Just… don’t.”

Zayne hummed, teasing the smouldering ash up and down, deciding on a spot. “The trick is to not be too hasty,” he finally said, and firmly pressed the cigarette out against Jay’s skin just under his elbow.

Jay hissed, clenched his teeth together and groaned his pain as he threw his head back.

Zayne didn’t pull away yet. “Gotta take it slow,” he continued, twisting the butt before he finally removed it. A dark red circle remained. “You know, check things out first. See what the employees smoke outside during their breaks and buy the same pack. Got to match up, yeah.”

He shifted closer towards Jay, pulling him in by the wrist, his other hand brushing his collar aside, undoing one button.

“Then you find a good spot…” Fingers tucked under the neck of his t-shirt, exploring the skin underneath, softly prodding. “And you create… circumstances. Patch of dry leaves, dead potted plant, some garbage, whatever works.”

Jay didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He just allowed Zayne’s teasing, pretty sure he’d be able to feel his heart hammering under the thumb that rested against his throat.

“After that,” Zayne reached into his pocket and took out three more cigarettes. “You just dispose of the evidence.”

“Maybe… you’ll still need some? You know, for next time?” Jay tried.

“Hmm, that suggestion would make you the instigator of arson, Jaydear. Can’t involve you in all this.” He pinched another cigarette in-between his lips, lit it, and tucked his fingers under Jay’s shirt, lightly pulling the neck down and exposing his clavicle.

“What you can do is help me get rid of this evidence.”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @scribbelle

[billybennet]

What's My Age Again?

Chapter 2

Charlie Kelly x reader

Summary: a charlie kelly high school fic where the reader is Mac's sister, thats it.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Masterlist

*Highschool, Senior Year*

“Y/N!” the girl's head whips around at the sound of her name. She’s standing outside Notre Dame de Namur, Dee, Mac, and Dennis around her. Across the street at St. Joe’s a boy in a letterman jacket waves at her, he looks both ways before dashing across the street. “Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath, but still smiling charmingly at her.

Up close, she can recognize him as Trevor, of the popular guys some of the other soccer girls hang out with. “Hey,” she returns his smile.

“Hey, Trevor-” Dennis butts in, trying to talk to the boys.

“Hey,” Trevor cuts Dennis off, pushing him to the side, “Y/N can we talk for a minute?”

“Uh,” Y/N looks to Dee and Mac, the former nodding enthusiastically while the latter shakes his head, “yeah, sure.”

Trevor leads Y/N away from the group slightly.

“I was uh, just thinking,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I think you’re really pretty, and was wondering if you’d want to go to prom with me?”

Shock was written all over Y/N’s face, sure she was on the soccer team, but she was by no means popular, not risking a glance to her friends, she replies, “yes, yeah, I would love to.”

“Cool,” Trevor nods, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Cool,” Y/N agrees.And then they part ways.

As Y/N returns to the group she notes that Charlie has joined them, hair and clothes disheveled, his typical ‘late for school’ look. “What did he say?” Dee pries, catching her before she starts drooling.

“Oh, uh, he asked me to prom,” Y/N shrugs.

“What?” The other four exclaim.

“And you said ‘no’ right?” Mac grabs the girl by the shoulders looking into her eyes, which she avoids, “No… Y/N! He’s a total player! He’ll break your heart!” Y/N shrugs again, as the bells simultaneously ring from both schools, and pushes her way past the boys, to the doors of Notre Dame de Namur.

By the time prom rolls around Y/N is convinced that Trevor has forgotten about her, but one day as she leaves school, someone runs up behind her, grabbing her waist, she hopes, no, she prays , it’s one specific person but as he speaks she’s disappointed, “I got out tickets yesterday, I hope you picked out a nice dress for me.”

Y/N plasters on a smile, turning in his arms, “I sure did, when are you picking me up?”

“8?” he suggests.

“Sounds good,” she nods. Suddenly she feels eyes on her, and she looks around to find the gang staring the two of them down, she frowns slightly, “I gotta go…” she pulls away, “But I’ll see you Saturday?” He nods in response and lets her go. She looks back at him as she leaves and he waves.

“Not a word,” Y/N states firmly when she gets to the gang, passing them and heading right home.

Prom was just the way Y/N had dreamed, well almost. The night started good, photos, dancing, punch. But 20 minutes ago Trevor had left with some of his buddies and hadn't returned. Y/N sat on the bleachers, planning her next move, does she return the gang, tail between her legs? Does she flat out leave without saying anything to anybody? She didn’t have time to come to a conclusion, because she was pulled out of her thoughts by someone sitting next to her.

“Bad night?” He asked, voice raspy.

“It wasn’t until 20 minutes ago,” Y/N sighed. Charlie gently placed a hand on her shoulder and Y/N leaned her head on his.

“How about we get the others and head out, huh? Mac and I got a bunch of beer that's just waiting to be drunk,” Charlie says softly, but still loud enough to be heard over the music.

“In a minute,” Y/N replies, and they stay like that for another half a song, before Y/N gets up, offering Charlie her hand, which he takes, briefly, because he can feel the heat rising from the time they had touched.

The gang and Y/N gather in the McDonald’s living room, a case of beers drank and discarded. Mac and Y/N’s parents weren’t home so they had free range to do what they wanted. The music blasted loud, and they all talked excited and drunkenly. Well, all but one, Charlie sits in the middle of the chaos, lost in his thoughts.

“Dude!” Mac attempts to snap him out of it, “What the hells going on? You haven't even finished your beer!”

“Yeah man, you weren't even laughing at Mac’s fight-dancing,” Dennis joins in, but Charlie watched his eyes dance over to Y/N sitting on the loveseat next to Dee talking enthusiastically to each other.

“I dont know,” Charlie places the can on the coffee table, “I guess I’m just not feeling that great, maybe I should head home,” He begins to stand.

“No!” Y/N shouts. hand clamping over her mouth instantaneously. “I, um, mean, maybe we should all go to bed, its-uh its getting late.” Dee nods next to her.

“It’s 12 o'clock,” Mac scolds.

“Well-” Dennis butts in, “I mean, maybe she's right, its been a long night.” He steps towards Y/N, leaning on the arm on the couch, “Are you girls gonna sleep down here with us?”

Charlie swallowed thickly.

“Ew! No!” Dee stands, and pushes Dennis back, grabbing Y/N’s hand, she flashes Dennis a sorry smile before following his sister up the stairs to her room.

Dennis and Charlie stare after them, while Mac focuses his attention of Charlie’s discarded beer, “You gonna drink this?” He picks it up in one hand and points to it with the other, looking at Charlie before chugging it. Charlie doesn’t reply, instead just plops back down on the couch.

“Thank you for saving me,” Y/N hugs Dee as they enter her room. It was by no means as pristine as Dee’s, all the furniture and decor dated and dusty.

“What were you thinking?” Dee scolds her.

“I wasn't! It just came out!”

“Well don’t do that! One of them is gonna figure out about your crush,” she lightly hits Y/N.

“Wait.. They don't know?”

“Nah, Dennis never brought it up and he still hits on you so that means Mac and Charlie haven’t brought it up either,” Dee says as she walks over to Y/N’s bed and takes a seat.

Y/N nods to herself, then after a few seconds changes the subject, “I'll grab the blankets from the linen closet.”

The McDonald’s house was small, so their linen closet was tucked inside the upstairs bathroom. As Y/N was digging through the blankets to find the comfiest ones that would also suit the warmth of the time of year, she didn’t hear anyone approaching the bathroom, and she almost didn't hear the bathroom door close behind her.

[meekahy]

Beach Bunny

hello, here's my first John Marino fic! Let me know what you think!

Requests are open :)

John watched you as you sat on the bed with your laptop in front of you. You were working on an essay for one of your college classes. You had one of your favorite playlists playing in the background as John was on his phone. 

“Flashing back to New York City

Changing flights so you stay with me

Remember thinkin' that I got this right

And now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While I'm cleanin' up your mess…” you sang along to Lie to Me by 5 Seconds of Summer. John was watching you sing as you typed your essay. He thought you had an amazing voice. You had a decent range too. However, being a singer was not what you wanted. You wanted to run your own business one day. That’s why you were writing an essay, for your business class.

You stopped singing and focused on your essay, and John went back to his phone. He loved hearing you sing. You always sang in the car, while you wrote, and while you were doing household chores. Good Girls by Beach Bunny started to play next and you groaned, it was one of your favorites. 

“I'm tired of dumb boy talk

Of getting close

You say you won't, you do

And act as though you don't

You're not a ghost

I'm not afraid of you

I started letting go

You let me know

That you were just confused

And I still think that you're cute

But I need you to remember that

Good girls don't get used,” you sang your heart out to this one with your eyes closed, feeling the lyrics. John watched you with heart eyes. He loved the sound of your voice. Once the song ended and another started, you could feel his eyes on you. Looking over, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.

“Sorry, sometimes I get carried away when Beach Bunny is on. They’re my favorite,” you confessed shyly.

John shook his head, smiling, “I love it.”

You smiled and moved your laptop so you could jump onto his chest and hug him, abandoning your essay. John easily caught you and chuckled, wrapping his strong arms around your back. He grabbed his phone to look at something.

“Whatcha doing, Johnny?” you mumbled into his chest.

“I’m looking to see if a Beach Bunny concert is coming up,” he said.

You perked up, “Really?” You shifted your head so you could see his phone screen. You hoped and prayed that there was a concert nearby and soon.

John scrolled through the tour dates and found one in New York City, “Babe, it’s tomorrow!” He exclaimed making you jump off of him in excitement.

“Can we go? Pretty please, Johnny? Are you off tomorrow?” You rambled out all the questions that popped into your head.

“I am off tomorrow. Let me see if there are any tickets left,” John mumbled as he messed with his phone.

“So?” you asked impatiently, looking back and forth from his face to the screen.

“Tickets are $239 each. Damn. Who’s headlining?” he questioned.

“Melanie Martinez!” you exclaimed, “It’s going to be a great tour.”

“Gotcha, got the tickets babe,” John declared smiling over at you. “No shit?” you almost screamed, and he nodded. This time you did, jumping back onto his chest as you placed kisses all over his face.

John laughed before wrapping you in a bone crushing hug, kissing the top of you head.

“Happy?” He asked you quietly.

“More than happy,” you said lifting your head to look into his eyes, “Thank you, Johnny.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” John muttered lovingly.

“Now I got to find something to wear,” you yelled while leaping off of John, in route to your closet. Shuffling through your dresses, you groaned, “I gotta go get something new, I think.”

“Let’s go shopping,” John suggested.

A broad smile graced your features, you reached out your hand towards him. John has a toothy grin on his face. You loved the missing tooth, and he knew it. He gets out of bed and grabbed your hand. 

At the store, you had a few dresses laid over you arm as you both walked to the dressing room. You grabbed John’s hand and pulled him to a room and shut the door. He sat down on the chair while you hung up the dresses and put your purse down. Kicking off your shoes, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head with John’s eyes watching your every move. You tugged off your shorts and reached out for the first dress. It was a spaghetti strapped dress with a maroon floral print

Looking in the mirror, you turned to see the different angles of your dress, “Baby, what do you think of this one?” 

Locking eyes with him in the mirror, he smiled, “I like this one.”

You smiled back, “I’m going to try on the black one,” you stated reaching for the short sleeved dress. Slipping out of the maroon dress, you effortlessly slid on the black dress, John’s eyes never leaving your form.

“Babe?” you question.

“Black looks good on you, but I like the tank top dress,” John confessed.

“Okay, last one,” you said referring to the cheetah print body con dress. Yanking off the black dress, you watched John’s face. He was practically drooling at you. Slightly turning, you decided to put on a little show for the last dress. Letting your hips sway in your cute light pink panties, you reached for the cheetah print dress and slowly slid into it, knowing that John’s eyes were on your ass. You turned back around to see his hooded eyes slowly looking up to your face, stopping on your breasts. Your cleavage in this dress made your boobs look imaculate. 

“O-okay, this one is my favorite,” John stuttered standing up. He made his way over to you with his hands resting on your hips.

Blushing you reach up to tangle your hands into his curls, “I think it’s my favorite too.”

He leaned down and pressed a needy kiss to your lips. You deepened this kiss while letting your hands roam his arms. 

Breaking the kiss, he pulled away, “Let’s go buy this and go home,” John whispered, “got a few things I want to do with you.”

“Is that so, Johnny?” you asked with doe eyes. He nodded and sat back in the chair, giving you the cue to change back into your clothes. After changing, you bought the dress and went home to take care of a few things before bed.

The next night, you and John were standing in line for the concert. You dressed in the new cheetah print dress and John in a nice button up. You gripped his hand while your other hand held his bicep. You rested your head on his shoulder as you moved forward little by little.

However, John could feel you bouncing. You were so excited. 

“Babe, relax, you’ll see them soon enough,” he laughed.

“I’m trying, believe me,” you retorted giggling.

After making showing your tickets, you found your seats. You sat down and John’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. Talking about anything and everything, you waited. The lights suddenly dimmed and you sat up in your seat. The opening band played their set and left the stage. You both enjoyed them. Your eyes never leaving the stage, you see Lili Trifilio make her way to the middle of the stage with her guitar strapped to her shoulder. 

You quickly stood up, John following suit, as she greeted the crowd and started to play Weeds. You cheered and sang along. John nodded his head along to the music and enjoyed watching you have the time of your life. Towards the end of their set, they played Cloud 9, another one of your favorites. John enveloped you in his hands as he swayed you back and forth to the beat of the song. You were in perpetual bliss, listening to your favorite band in concert and had the love of your life wrapped around you. 

Before the last song, Painkillers, you turned around in John’s arms and gave him a big kiss.

“Thank you for this experience,” you gushed.

“Anything to see you happy, love,” John smiled. You turned around to listen to Beach Bunny’s last song, enjoying John’s presence and the atmosphere.

[secondsonaym]

Azazel looked to Clauneck for a moment before turning their eyes back to the spread before them.

"Yes?" Clauneck prodded, though their tone betrayed no emotion.

"The cards say... We will separate. But the event that will cause this separation is... A betrayal." Azazel finally managed, lowering their head.

They couldn't believe it. Why would the cards suggest that? The pair of them were siblings, twins--friends! They were family, they were all each other had! Azazel couldn't imagine either of them doing anything to harm the other.

"Hm," Clauneck sighed, looking over the cards, before taking up Soul Snatcher--the one in the 'outcome' position--and staring at it.

"It does seem as if there is little room for interpretation. Especially with such a spread and question asked." They hummed.

"But... I'd never go against Star. And she--"

"'One's loss is the gain of another.'" Clauneck interrupted, though talking to themself, almost as if they weren't listening to Azazel. "Star has always been the more independent of you two, I must say. You can never know what she is up to, the times she goes off into the Cradle on her own."

Azazel opened their mouth to protest, but... No sound came out. Why didn't anything come out? They wanted to defend Star, to insist Clauneck was just speculating, but... Clauneck had a point.

Star had been leaving to explore the Silk Cradle on her own more and more, even when Azazel warned her of the danger. So all Azazel had been able to do was do spread after spread of cards, begging them to show that she would be safe, praying that no harm would befall her.

And every time they had said so.

And every time she had come back perfectly fine.

They were already adults, after all. Was it selfish of Azazel to think they would have stayed here their whole lives?

But why did Star have to be the one to leave? Azazel didn't want that. It was too painful. They weren't brave or confident or even very sociable like Star was... It was safe near Clauneck, so there they had stayed, day in and day out.

Clauneck wasn't really great company, being noncommittal in just about everything, and Azazel didn't think they could stand being alone with them for very long.

Would they be there for the end of their days, all to stay safe? Would Star gladly turn her back and leave them behind for her own freedom?

Perhaps, instead of being betrayed, they would...

Azazel snapped to attention, not noticing Star's arrival. They hurriedly grabbed at the cards still on the ground, shuffling them before handing them back to Clauneck, who took them without even blinking.

"Just. Doing some readings. That's all." They managed.

"Hah, see, that's why you're so much better at that kind of stuff than I am." Star laughed, moving to sit down next to her sibling. "You spend all your free time practicing--I still haven't gotten five-card spreads down very well, I always forget the order!"

Azazel managed a weak laugh, but their thoughts were still swirling, so it died rather quickly.

"So, where'd you go this time?" They asked.

"Oh, well I went to visit that cute girl I told you about a few days ago," Star began, donning a mischievous smile. "And turns out she's free tomorrow night! So one thing led to another, and I've got a date!"

"Ah, that's... That's nice." Azazel sighed. Star hooked up with people often, so they admittedly didn't actually know the specific girl she was referring to, but that wasn't really what bothered them.

"You think you'll ever find somebody to settle down with?" They asked after an awkward pause.

"Probably." Star said with a shrug. "But that'll likely be after I find some place to live."

"Oh... You're... Thinking of living somewhere else?"

"Ah, c'mon, Azazel, we gotta sometime. Clauneck's not exactly a typical parent, but I think almost 25 years of freeloading's gotta get to almost anyone."

Clauneck, smartly, made no comment. They merely let the sheep talk between themselves.

"And it'll just be you, then?"

"What, you playing the dependency card now?" She scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Azazel, I love you, but... Even twins gotta split up and live their own lives, you know. I'd be lying if I said I never thought we'd always be near each other, but... It's just not realistic. Not in this world."

Ah...

Azazel stared at the ground, fists clenching. So the cards were right, then.

"But hey, that won't be for a while, so--"

"But it'll still happen." Azazel cut in.

Star turned to look at her sibling, confused.

Azazel stood up, and looked down at Star, brow furrowing.

"Then... Rather than let it happen, rather than depending on the cards for assurance, I'll... I'll forge my own path!"

Star now stood up, cautiously raising a hand to reach for her sibling, but they stepped away, eyes narrowing.

"I'll walk my own steps, I'll build my own life... And I'll do it without you!" Azazel snapped.

"What are you--Azazel!" Star cried, but their sibling was already running. Before Star could go after them, they had vanished into the shadows of the night.

Star stared in silence, unsure what to do, before slowly turning her gaze to Clauneck for some sort of answer.

"Skilled as they may be with reading the cards," Clauneck began, without looking to Star. "They fall victim to the same reliance on them many do.

"And little do they realize, by attempting to challenge them, they end up obeying them all the same. The cards only spoke of one betraying the other. It never said which one."

Clauneck was still staring at the card they had picked up initially--Soul Snatcher.

"But did they ever realize the nature of the betrayal... ?"

Star knew it was pointless to probe Clauneck for any meaning to their ramblings. They would often talk in circles, and one would only end up more confused than before.

"My, it seems I chose a rather inappropriate time to pay a visit." Came a new voice from the shadows.

Star and Clauneck lifted their heads, and from the darkness appeared a looming figure, one the pair recognized instantly.

It was Shamura.

"There is no need for you to apologize on their behalf, lamb." Shamura said simply. "It is of no insult or concern to me, who is in the middle of a breakdown."

"Of course, thank you..." Star managed, but frowned.

"Is something the matter?" Shamura asked, tilting their head.

"It's just... I shouldn't have said anything to them about what I was planning. But now they've run off. They don't do well alone in the slightest, and it's dangerous at night, so if they get hurt, it's my fault, and--"

"Swallow that worry, lamb." Shamura interrupted, tone level, but still commanding. "You are not suited for it."

Star nodded slowly, looking to the ground with her head still bowed.

"What brings you here on this evening, bishop?" Clauneck took the opportunity to ask, despite knowing the answer already.

"A private matter." Shamura said, glancing at Star.

Star, who had glanced up, didn't need to be told twice.

"In that case, um, please excuse me Bishop Shamura. Clauneck. I think I will go look for Azazel. Perhaps I can calm them down..."

"It is dangerous, as you said." Shamura noted, raising a claw to make Star pause. "A few of my attendants wait just past the perimeter. Take one as a guide."

Star paused, staring at the bishop incredulously. Shamura was actually offering her a means of protection?

"Th-Thank you Bishop Shamura!" She then stammered, bowing once more. "Your mercy is boundless."

And with that, she left, vanishing just as quickly as her sibling had into the darkness.

Shamura stared after her for a moment, before their eyes turned back to Clauneck. For them, it was business as usual. This hadn't been the first time they had arrived while one or both of the sheep had been around, but it was easy enough to give them reasons to vacate so they could speak to Clauneck in private.

"You'll need to make your decision soon, it seems." Clauneck said with the faintest chuckle. "Lest you risk losing the benefit of choice."

"This turn of events has certainly made me take pause." Shamura murmured. "Both of them are quite dependent, thanks to your rearing. They long for safety and attention. But Azazel had the weaker will, up until now, and would have been the prime candidate."

"And now?"

"I am unsure. I was hoping that Azazel's fear would make them an easy vessel to deal with, should Narinder have no choice but to use them. But they've revealed their true colors, their true potential for initiative. Starwatcher, on the other hand..."

"What about her?" Clauneck asked idly.

"Desperate for outside approval, making her easy to string along. But it would work both ways. Narinder knows how to target desires. However, she's also more selfish, thinking of herself above all else."

"Quite the conundrum, indeed."

"Mmm. If I'm to set up the lamb of prophecy properly, I will need more time. Azazel must be found."

"You still haven't told your fellow bishops of the prophecy?" Clauneck asked, tilting their head.

"I want all the pieces in place." Shamura scoffed.

"A fitting stance for the wearer of the Purple Crown."

Shamura let out another sharp exhale, but then turned away.

"You'll receive your payment for the past year's work shortly. That was what I had originally come to report. Along with seeing how the lambs were."

"Very well. Thank you for the notice, Shamura."

[tonberry-yoda]

Innocent (pt. 2) - Enrico Pucci

Pairing - Enrico Pucci x reader

Warnings - mentions of religion (i just feel like I always gotta put it here for pucci lol)

Word Count - 661

Notes - here's part 2!!! i like part 1 way better tbh, but ive always had trouble with writing series' lmao. i still like this one tho it was a good warm up for the day! you can read part 1 here. I hope you enjoy and have a lovely day everyone!!! <333

Going to church was never the same. Instead of praying or looking at the architecture of the building, your eyes were glued to the priest and his eyes were glued to you. A soft smile would graze his lips before he would turn his attention to the rest of the churchgoers.

He knew you were innocent, but his goal wasn't to get you out of this prison, unfortunately. Instead he had other plans for you. He gave you a “stand” that you didn't quite know how to control yet and warned you of the Joestar family. You didn't quite understand it all, but Pucci trusted you. You kept your ability a secret, telling no one. He said it was better that way until you and he had a use for it. Whatever would happen next, you honestly weren't afraid of. You had been framed, thrown in prison, punched, kicked, called names, etc. Literally nothing could faze you now.

“I just wanted to hear you say it … that you’re innocent.”

The way your heart fell to the pit of your stomach as he smiled at you that day, his fingers lightly brushing over yours. You didn't know whether to be attracted or frightened. His eyes showed no emotion, but his lips held a smile.

The night of that incident, you laid on your bed, your eyes on the ceiling, and your stand watching your every move. You didn't know what to think of Enrico Pucci. You really didn't. He didn't make you uncomfortable, but he didn't make you feel all that welcomed either. But even so, you still visited him every day to train you on how to use your ability and find out what it does, which admittedly did take longer than expected. But even after training, you couldn't get those soft hands and dark eyes off of your mind.

“Pucci?” You knocked on the frame of his door before letting yourself in.

He turned to you with slight surprise on his face, turning DIO’s bone over in his hand. “Oh, y/n,” he set down the bone and stood up. “Come in.”

You walked in and sat in a nearby chair, the sun from outside kissing your cheeks.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, pulling a chair towards you and sitting down himself.

“Yes, everything is fine.” You played with a ring that was on your right hand, but kept your eyes on the priest.

“But training is done for the day. I don't need anything else from you.”

“I know.” You still didn't move an inch.

“Th-Then what do you need?”

Your heart suddenly started pounding. What did you need? You began an internal panic. What were you supposed to say? “Hey Father Pucci, you’ve been on my mind a lot recently and I think you have nice eyes.” You were literally at a loss for words.

“Is everything alright, y/n?” He reached his hand out to yours, locking fingers with you.

You were pulled out of your panic and sucked right back into those jet black eyes.

You don't know what came over you, but you pulled him forward and pressed your lips to his, cupping his face. He, instead of pulling away, immediately melted to your touch, pulling you closer. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly needing him closer, needing… him.

You quickly realized that this might not be okay and quickly pulled away, apologizing. “Father, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I just… I don't know what came over me. I-”

Pucci put up a finger, cutting you off. “There’s no need to apologize, y/n.” His once neutral expression turned into a smile. “I didn't know you felt that way.”

Your face turned bright red. “I-”

He cut you off once more, but this time with a small kiss. He placed his lips to your for only a second and stood up. “Alright y/n. Let’s do some more training, don't you think?”

~~~~~

jjba masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

TAG LIST: @mkirina, @b3atmesweetly, @threeoftarot

[morbiderotica]

bestie (anyone who writes for mello is immediately my bestie) I would LOVE to hear anything you think about dear sweet mihael. like, what's the deal with his relationship with religion? Did he partake in drugs during his time in the mafia? Actually I'd take ANY headcanon about the time he spent between leaving wammy's and when he's introduced as an adult. Did he have a kindred spirits sort of thing with Matt because neither one of them was the best! (even tho mello cared a lot more about it than matt did)? I just want to pick your brain so bad 🥺

─ ★ headcanons ... tw: religious trauma, implied accidental overdose + more.

♡ when he left wammy's he was lost and confused

♡ he practically had everyone telling him he was never going to be good enough and always going to be second to near

♡ he obviously didn't really have anything and often resorted to stealing

♡ sometimes food though most of the time substances

♡ i feel like he just really needed an anchor to lean on so he started praying

♡ at wammys they said a grace prayer before eating meals so he wasn't a stranger to praying

♡ he spent countless nights just screaming at "whatever god was there" trying to get an answer

♡ he prayed and prayed and sought help from any higher up

♡ it drained him so much that he started doing drugs and sometimes even drinking

♡ he was very adamant about not keeping in touch with anyone from wammy's excluding matt

♡ after one too many pills or too many bottles of beer mello was without a doubt calling matt

"it's 4 in the morning, mello." matt paused. "are you okay?" worry overtook his voice and mello could hear the rustling of blankets. "matt." mello hummed with ease, letting the boys name fall off his tongue. "mello." matt sighed. "what is it this time?" he inquired, knowing mello was probably sulking again. "i miss you." he slurred.

"how drunk are you?" matt was growing more concerned. mello expressing his feelings? unheard of. "i can't do this without you." matt could hear mello shuffle followed by the sound of things hitting the floor. "shit." mello bent down to pick up the scattered pills. "mello? what did you drop? pills? i thought you were drinking." matt was now wide awake. "i am." that was enough for matt to forget about his prolonged sleep and find mello as quick as he could.

♡ after that wherever mello went, matt went too including the mafia

♡ mello was very against the idea, obviously not wanting matt to get hurt, but theyre both stubborn assholes so

♡ matt kinda just let mello do his own thing

♡ you know, the usual, popping pills, fucking whoever and whenever, murdering anyone who got in the way

♡ when mello would get "cranky" as everyone would call it, matt would be there right next to him

"you don't have to stay." mello's leg was bouncing relentlessly. "last time i left you alone you fucking-" matt was angry, but not at mello, so he stopped mid sentence, thinking of his next words carefully. "i want to stay... for you." mello nodded. "i get it, you know. so, if you wanna talk 'bout anything, well, i'm all ears." matt didn't get it, but mello accepted his offer anyway.

♡ even though he never got clarity from any sort of god he can't bring himself to stop praying, even after joining the mafia

♡ he prayed day and night, for himself and for matt

♡ the thing that really got him though was when matt died

♡ he tried everything, bargained everything he could, begged for matt's life only to once again not be heard or answered

"mello, whadda doing, we gotta go." matt was getting impatient. "yeah, one sec." his fingers moved from one bead on the rosary to the next, mouthing words engraved into his brain. matt stared silently, watching mello pray. "is this really necessary? i mean you do this every time you have to-" "it's not for me." mello whispered before placing the rosary back around his neck.

─ ★ bonus ...

♡ he tried to get off the drugs and started eating chocolate in place of them

♡ it didn't work

♡ now he's addicted to drugs and chocolate

♡ one time one of the mafia guys punched matt and mello was furious

♡ he tore the whole place apart, screaming, throwing things, and threatening to kill the guy

♡ matt just kinda followed him around aimlessly trying to calm him down

♡ he ended up killing the guy

♡ he tried to find his parents at one point after drinking too much

♡ ran databases and pulled up birth certificates and everything

♡ he cried himself to sleep when he couldn't find anything

i love you /p 😭

[menofchaos]

Coco x Reader

Note: Shout out to s4 for already giving me a Coco/reader idea and shout out to my fellow associate @thesewickedhands​ for being a ridiculously talented gifmaker. This takes place during the first episode. Let me know if there’s any interest in part 2! Credit to @spideyspeaches​ for the dividers.

No matter how hard she tried, she could never fully shake him. It started off as just a hook up, both of them looking to scratch an itch. She wanted more, he didn’t. He got distant, stopped calling. She visited the clubhouse a few more times, just to be met by his absence. Enough pity smiles from EZ and Creeper finally got her to admit to herself it was over.

Maybe he finally found the one or whatever he was looking for. Whatever she didn’t have.

She tried everything. She threw herself into work, she went out with her friends. She hooked up with men and women, hoping to forget those intense eyes and long fingers. She tried to find new hobbies. Her house smelled like a bakery for weeks but none of it worked. He frustratingly infiltrated her thoughts with no signs of stopping.

Her phone lit up as she was cleaning up dinner one night and her breath caught when she saw his name.

Coco We gotta talk. Meet me at the clubhouse?

She didn’t respond right away, thoughts drifting as she continued doing the dishes. He never treated her bad when they were together. Respectful, honest, and sexy as hell. Maybe it was his experience but nobody could coax the same feelings from her. She would take one of his fingers and his crooked smile over entire sessions with anyone else. Her friends’ words rang in her ears as she pulled her boots on.

He’s not interested, babe. You got ghosted.

He’s a criminal anyway.

You have to move on, he’s gone.

Her stomach flushed with nerves as she pulled up to the clubhouse, EZ shutting the gate behind her. She walked in to see the usual occupants, minus Gilly and Coco. The girls all greeted her warmly, hugging her and catching up as Jess got her a drink. It felt like she had never left, like no time had passed.

Then the gunshots started.

Coco raced for cover with Gilly, pushing his drenched hair back as they caught their breath.

“They’re hitting the clubhouse,” Gilly realized.

Coco glared, “What the fuck did you guys do?”

He ran away from the van as Gilly covered him. He wasn’t religious but he prayed that she decided he wasn’t worth it that night.

“She better not be hurt,” he murmured, grunting as they climbed onto the roof. 

“If she’s even here,” Gilly snorted as he climbed next to him, “You blew her off so many goddamn times.”

“Shut up,” Coco whispered sharply, “I’m gonna make it right with her, too.”

She squeezed Jess’ hand as the guys followed the footsteps on the roof. She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, shivering. She was soaked to the skin from the rain. She and Cielo took turns helping EZ throw a steady stream of molotov cocktails to ward off the attacking members. She had streaks of blood along her arms and neck from helping patch Creeper and Hank up.

“Get that fucking light out of my eyes,” the girls all let out a collective breath when they heard Gilly. Her heart raced when she heard Coco’s voice next. A hand squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

“Fuck. Is she here? Is she okay?” 

She stood up quickly, choking on a sob when she saw Coco scanning the clubhouse. He pulled her into a tight hug, his own body drenched and shivering.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his hands roaming her body to check for wounds.

“I’m okay,” she sniffled, “It’s not mine.”

He nodded, “I’m here now,” he kissed her temple, rubbing her back, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his own heart beating harder than it had been all night.

The clubhouse was quiet inside and out. Coco and Bishop exchanged a few words but it was brought to an end by Canche’s terrifying taunting, reminding them of their more important predicament. She was sitting between Coco’s legs, one arm around her waist as he smoked a cigarette.

“You awake?” his lips brushed her ear and she fought a shiver.

She nodded and rubbed his hand gently. She felt his lip curve into a smile against her skin.

“Listen,” his rough voice was quiet and only for her, “I did you wrong. And I’m sorry.”

“Coco-“ she tried to turn but he tightened his arm around her waist.

“Nah,” he whispered, “Not now. I’ll tell you everything. Just not here.”

She couldn’t stop the tears in her eyes, “You think we’ll make it out of here?” she asked softly.

He kissed her head, “You will. I promise.”

She frowned and opened her mouth to protest. Coco held her chin, tilting her face up to his. He kissed her carefully, like he was gauging her reaction. She kissed him back, smiling despite everything when he held the back of her head. She hugged him tight, her face pressed against his neck. She frowned when she realized how much thinner he felt.

He shook his head when she pulled back, “Later.”

She laid back against him, playing with a loose string on his hoodie as EZ and Bishop went back and forth. EZ stood up.

“Canche!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

She exchanged a confused look with Coco, then watched EZ try to bargain with the rest of the members outside. Her eyes widened when he walked outside and closed the door.

“Hey, look at me,” he nudged her.

She looked up and he kissed her hard, pecking her lips a few times as Nails begged Angel not to go. 

“Coco, wait,” tears filled her eyes, “Coco!” he moved her off his lap and stood up as Gilly headed to the door.

She stood and tried to grab him but he was already out the door. Jess and Cielo brought her into their arms as she watched him helplessly. Nails joined their huddled group, sobbing. Tears fell down her cheeks when Coco was forced onto his knees.

“We got you,” Cielo told them, hugging them tight.

“Fuck! Get the fuck off me!” she tried to untangle herself from the other women when she heard Coco’s strangled yell. 

Cielo tightened her grip, “You know what happened to Rosa. Don’t,” then guided her head down so she couldn’t watch outside, “You don’t need to see that,” Cielo whispered.

Nails sobbed when EZ cried out. They both flinched when they heard another gunshot.

“Angel’s okay,” Jess whispered to Nails, who sobbed harder, “Coco, too. It’s over.”

She looked up in time to see Alvarez knock someone down. She wiped her eyes as the other members slowly left, collecting anyone still on the ground. After everyone left, the members of Santo Padre stood up slowly. Alvarez spoke to them quietly for a moment, the women loosening their grip as the stillness settled in once again.

Alvarez dismissed them and the men went their separate ways. Coco walked inside behind Angel and she was reaching for him immediately.

“Take me home?” he asked quietly, his grip tight.

She nodded, lacing their hands together as they walked down the steps. He dozed in the car and she looked over at him. She was deep in thought as she waited for the light to turn green. 

“Hey uh, I know I asked to talk,” he mumbled.

She shook her head, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“After we wake up?”

“Yeah. After we wake up.”

[ladyinwriting18]

You're On Your Own, Kid (Adam Sackler x You)

Summary: Having Adam Sackler as a neighbor and best friend has it's perk. Especially when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Words: 2,122

Warnings: No sexual warnings! Nothing but best friends being there for one another who have some hidden feelings for one another. Author's Note: This is my first ever Adam Sackler one-shot! The idea for this was heavily inspired by Taylor Swifts new song "You're On Your Own, Kid". After hearing the song ONCE I couldn't get this idea out of my head so were we go. Hope everyone enjoys!

You knock on the door of his apartment with tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t bothered to call or text. Adam hates technology. If he was free to talk he’d answer his front door and invite you in and if he wasn’t you’d wander the streets floundering in your sadness. Adam Sackler has been your next store neighbor for a year now. He was the first person in the building to be nice to you. You could clearly remember your move in date. All those heavy boxes. No one had offered to help. No one except Adam.

His help had been invaluable and as a reward you had ordered pizza that you both ate on your living room floor and got to know one another. You were fast friends after that. In the grand scheme of things, a year isn’t a long time to truly know someone, but when it comes to your friendship with Adam it feels like a lifetime. You both rely on one another more than most neighbors. Each of you have developed a habit of just showing up at one another’s apartment when in crisis or facing things like boredom. It’s hard not to when you live down the hall from one another. The two of you turn to each other for just about anything. Adam needing to run lines for an audition? You were there. Your job stressing you out? He was there. Adam dealing with his unresolved feelings for Hanna? You were there. You getting into an argument with a friend? He was there. Adam spiraling about feeling like a failure and ultimately his sobriety? You were there. You crying over a breakup? He was there Adam wanting to go out and eat Chinese food at 2AM? You were definitely there. 

Truthfully, you’re thankful for his presence in your life.  Adam might be a big goofball and a horndog but deep down he has a kind heart that he tries to hide from most people. It’s a fact you relish in because it makes you feel closer to him than any other.

You were one another’s confidants and told each other things that you didn’t dare tell another living soul.

That’s why you find yourself at his door, because right now all you need is your friend.

A moment later the door opens to reveal the hulking form of your neighbor. He’s dressed down in a simple olive green t-shirt and jeans. All while holding a freakishly large sandwich.

“Holy fuck I was just thinking about you! I just made the most banging sandwich. You gotta take a bite.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and that’s when he sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Shit.” Adam curses under his breath, turning away for half a second to place his sandwich down somewhere before turning back and ushering you into his place with a hand on your upper back. “Everything is going to be alright, kid. You just go make yourself comfortable on the couch.”

You do as you're told, knowing the drill well enough by now. Any second now he was going to offer you food. To Adam, food cured any ailment. You’d smile at how adorable that is if you didn’t feel so exhausted from crying.

You sit down on the couch with a sigh and pray the thing just swallows you whole.

“Can I get you anything? Food, water, a pillow?”

You shake your head while more tears escape. Your eyes meet his deep brown ones and let your words tumble out.

“I-I just need my friend.”  His features soften. He looks as if he’d give you the world if you asked for it. Without another word he comes to sit down beside you on the couch. His arm comes around you, letting you lean against him while he strokes your arm. For a few minutes, neither one of you speaks. You simply soak up the comfort being offered to you. It’s only once some of your tension dissipates that Adam speaks again. “What happened, kid? Why are you crying?” “It’s stupid.” You huff at yourself in annoyance and feverishly swipe at your tears. Just because Adam had seen you cry before didn’t make being this vulnerable any easier. You feel the tip of his nose pressing into your scalp, as if he’s trying to stop himself from smelling your hair. “Tell me anyway?” His voice is a low whisper. You do your best to suppress the shiver it triggers. Adam might be your friend but that doesn’t make him any less attractive. Determined to not be railroaded by his strong body and pretty face you sit up slightly. It gives you enough personal space to think clearly. “It’s just a build up of things. You know? Disappointments.” He chuckles in agreement, “I can say I’ve absolutely had my share of those. What’s been disappointing you?” “More like who.” You angrily mutter. “Alright then. Who’s disappointing you?” You can hear the grin in his tone without even looking at him. He’s always found your anger adorable. As infuriating as that is, it isn’t what’s important now. You came here to vent. You came here to unload so for even a few minutes this burden wasn’t yours to carry. 

Your shoulders slump in defeat. You’re suddenly too exhausted to be your normally fiery self. “A lot of people….But I guess mostly myself.” “I’m not sure I understand?” You try your best to piece your thought process together into words. It isn’t an easy task but somehow you manage. “I’m disappointed in myself because I give people too much power over me. I love too hard….care too deeply. People keep taking advantage of that and I….let them.” You choke, the words getting caught in your throat. Adam shushes you and softly prompts you to take your time. You nod, giving yourself a moment to take a few deep breaths. When you feel capable you try again to continue. “I once read somewhere that what you give power to has power over you. I think that’s my problem. I let people into my life, I love them, encourage them, give them my time and they revel in it until they move onto better things. It’s draining! I’m tired of my self worth being determined by how other people treat me!” The volume of your voice picks up a notch. Your sadness turns into bitterness that tastes like lemon rinds on your tongue. “Rationally I know that when people treat you shitty it’s not a reflection on you but it’s so hard to not blame myself. My brain automatically tells me if I was a better friend, a prettier girlfriend, a more motivated worker none of this would happen!” You swipe your arm across your face, determined to not drip snot on top of crying. You didn’t need to be gross and pathetic. Adam takes this moment to interject with a question. “Are we talking about a specific person?” You shake your head. “No, just noticing a pattern of behavior. People keep waltzing in and out of my life like it’s no big deal. As if I had no meaning to them in the first place and I’m sick. of. it.” 

Each of your words is punctuated with anger. So much so that a quiet hush falls. The only sounds come from the busy Manhattan streets below. Somewhere in the distance a car horn is blown, a group of friends loudly laughs, a dog barks at a jogger.

These noises don’t phase either of you. The sounds of the city are so much a part of your everyday life that they have no chance in snatching your attention.

But Adam’s next choice of words can.

“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder that they don’t get trapped inside your skull. “Yeah thanks Adam. That’s exactly what I need to hear right now.”

Your sarcasm drips like maple syrup down the side of a pancake stack.

Adam lightly nudges your ribs with his elbow.

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean that you’re the only one that you can truly count on. Yeah you’ve got friends and family who care about you, but in the end it’s your strength that has to carry you through.”

Goddamn him and his random insightful advice.

“But what if I’m not strong enough? What if I can’t keep this up anymore?”

The emotions begin to take over and make your eyes glassy with fresh tears.

Something tugs at your chin and turns it towards Adam. You quickly realize it’s his hand gently cupping your chin so you’re looking him in the eye.

“Of course you’re strong enough. You’ve gotten through all your past bad days, haven’t you? You did that. Not anyone else.”

You gape at him, having no clue how to respond because he’s right. Even when loved ones give you support it’s you that chooses to take that support and keep pushing forward. You lean into his touch, wanting the warmth of it to sear into your flesh.  “I-it’s really hard.” Your voice cracks. It���s too difficult to keep it all in check right now. His brows pull together, the empathy evident on his face. “I know it is, kid. But if anyone believes in you, it sure as hell is me.” “Adam…..” You breathe out his name as tremendous emotion grips your heart. Your eyes flick from his lips to his eyes. When did the two of you move closer in? Now there were only inches separating your mouths. You forget why you came here and what you were upset about. It all dissipates because the man besides you makes it all seem meaningless. Why couldn’t more people in your life be like him? Especially the men. If any of the guys you dated cared even just a fraction of the way Adam did then your love life would look a lot different. Some part of you murmurs out a question. What would it be like to kiss him? “Maybe you should focus on the people and relationships that don’t make you doubt what you mean to them?” You nod your head and simultaneously straighten your spine. He’s being sensible and it snaps you back to reality. The one where you and Adam are only friends. Given half the chance you know you would want more but the thought of ruining the safety you had found just down the hall from you is terrifying. You couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t lose your best friend. “And it’s also important that you stand on your own two feet.”

Oh shit, was he still talking?

You give him your full attention, nodding along as he continues. He also resituates his position, sitting forward so his forearms rest atop his knees.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and you clearly take care of yourself, your home, your responsibilities but I think you’re right about not letting these douchebags affect you so much.” He turns his head to look at you, wanting to make sure his words were sinking in.

“If they don’t value you then fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve a place in your life anyway. The right people are already here for you.”

You guessed he was right but…..

“So….what? I’m supposed to just not let anyone new into my life?”

He chuckles, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in amusement.

“No you goof. I’m telling you to live your life. Make new friends, go out and have fun, kiss lots of guys or girls, travel, do things out of your comfort zone. Take each moment and really enjoy it but don’t be afraid when disappointment comes or when people walk away.”

He leans back, finds your hand resting on your knee and places his hand over it. He laces your fingers together and reassuringly squeezes.

“You’ve got no reason to be afraid. No matter what you gain or lose, is still a step forward.”

You squeeze his hand in return and offer him a smile. And as much as some part of you still longs to know what being loved by him would feel like—you realize that here and now is you.

For healing.

For self improvement.

For happiness.

For selfishly taking care of you and you only.

Maybe one day time would be on your side. Maybe one day you’d both be ready for something more.

But for now, it was enough to be holding your best friend’s hand in his cluttered mancave of an apartment.

“Thank you, Adam.”

He grins, his uneven teeth poking through. “Anytime, kid.” 

[twilightown]

No matter the current situation versus potential situation, there are going to be parts of a move that suck and are stressful. Especially so if it involves moving states. But just because Some parts are going to inevitably suck doesn't mean all of it is doomed to. I'm not sure where your current residence is, but one good thing about moving somewhere that has regular heatwaves is that there are more resources available when it comes to dealing with them. IK that sounds kinda silly but I feel like it's the truth, ESP when it comes to moving somewhere that gets a lot of tourists. I don't want to be an old man "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" but as a native Floridian I can't help but stress that it's the truth xD.

Leaving a support system does sound very scary, but if it is around Orlando/Lake Buena Vista that you want to move to, at least it should be within reasonable distance of an airport when it comes to calling for help or needing to fly out for some reason. Traffic is going to suck, but like the heat it's something you will get used to. This is a move people make a lot, and while that doesn't make it any easier, I hope it helps it feel like it's not so dumb and impossible. Another thing I want to include in this word wall is this: You're smart and an adult and I'm sure you don't need to be told that you're probably not going to get the exact position you want right away. It might be something you have to work up towards or have just a 'getting by' job until you do get your foot in the door or on the path to the door you wanna go through. It's gonna be hard and there are gonna be days in your happy place that aren't as happy and there are probably times you're gonna feel like it sucks. But sucky days aren't going to completely eliminate the possibility of good days. I believe in you and have all of my fingers and toes crossed that this is something that works out in your favor with as few hiccups as possible. The chances of there being no hiccups at all is really slim, but, I am still hoping and praying that things swing in your favor as much as they can.

I needed to hear all this today, thank u 🥰

You’re right, I hadn’t thought of the various resources for heat they’ve got. My previous college program, they were able to move me to nights or early mornings which was nice! I really enjoyed working those. Opening was a joy tbh. Closing was a joy as well.

That is the area - like a 20 mile range from WDW lol. The traffic is something I’m not as worried about because I did it in my programs and lawd my hometown has it worse.

I’m coming from a gentrified medium city on the Eastern seaboard that’s gotten too many incoming tourists for our infrastructure to handle. It’s bumper to bumper from 4:30 to 6 at cross sections because there’s only one or two major routes. Maddening.

You’re right about the airport. My town flies direct to MCO so that’ll be easy. (Just gotta solve the pets for trips back and forth…)

Absolutely, I’m expecting to have to network and work my way up. I’m going to apply for everything when the time is right and see what sticks. My husband will be able to find a job, EZPZ. I’ve got a nice resume and I’m planning to really make my LinkedIn page nice? Try to network on Disney’s alumni website too. See if I can find any work that’s $20+ with them. 🤷🏼‍♀️ If not, I’ll go executive assistant route or try the other theme park or teach. (In Florida? It’s lowest on my list.) Disney has multiple roles for me to use my education degree. Just, like you said, got to get my foot in the door

Thank u kind stranger. This is a large move. And it’s not impossible… But it is life changing. It’s not just me involved. Thinking about how much I love my current job (at the moment) is making me hesitate too. Idk, next years’s students may have me packing my bags.

Our plan is to move at the new year. Professional internships will have started if I need to go that route. I’ll have stayed a semester at my school, we’ll have Christmas goodbyes and enough money saved to pay everything we need to for the move. Just feels right.