#small spaces

[the-home]

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Hello love 💗 I hope you’re doing well! Are your requests open? If so I was wondering if I could request how the Strawhats react to you having to sit on their laps. Mostly looking for Zoro’s reaction 😭😭 he’s my currently fixation and I had a dream last night that he let me sit on his lap so I’m just obsessed. But if you plan on doing headcanons then maybe you can include Luffy and Sanji as well? Or whoever else you’d like to write for ☺️.

Perhaps they’re in an awkward/cramped situation and they have nowhere to go other than on his lap. And reader can be in a relationship with him or not yet. That’s up to you :D I hope this makes sense and thank you in advance if you’re able to write this! If not, then no worries ☺️ have a lovely day!

Omg I love this so much. And yes! my requests are currently open! (also I love Zoro too and i'm so jealous of your dream). Thank you for your request :) It ended up not being exactly your request because it ended up being confession scenarios when you're on their lap, and I'm sorry about that and I hope you still enjoy what I wrote. I tried to make it up with the amount I wrote lol.

I made this pretty fluffy, because I wasn't sure you'd be comfortable with anything spicy. Reader/character do end up kissing though. . Also I headcanon that Zoro would be so soft at first with his S/O because he might not have the confidence in emotions like that.

I am so whipped for Ace and I wanted to write him for so long but didn't know how to start so thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to.

Warnings: Small spaces, kissing, confessions, swearing (Ace part - suggestive, angst if you squint)

Monster Trio's + Ace's reaction to their crush confessing while sitting on their laps

Soft!Zoro, Luffy being Luffy idk what to say, Smooth!Sanji, Flirty!Ace

Running from the marines was exhausting, you had to admit. Ducking into alleys, climbing over walls and gates, knocking over crates and barrels, and zig zagging to avoid gunfire was more exercise than you ever wanted in your life. Yet, here you were, running for your life from the marines. Again. You glanced to your side, looking at the cause of the chaos. Even though you had a huge, fat crush on him, that didn't stop him from being a pain in the ass in moments like this. You opened your mouth to scold him, but fresh blasts of gunfire from behind you lead to him looping an arm around your waist and hauling you suddenly to the side, down a skinny alley. It was a dead end- or at least looked like it.

"Now what-" you broke off your hissed annoyance with a quiet yelp of surprise as he yanked you down another smaller alley, hidden around an unnoticeable corner at the end of the previous alley. A small, ornate wooden door was hauled open by your crush's hand before you even noticed it. He shoved the both of you inside and slammed shut the door. You ignored the musty damp smell of your surroundings as you tried to catch your breath in the dark, tiny closet.

You heard boots echo down the first alley you went down. You readied yourself to fight as you heard slow steps approaching the door that was nearly pressed to your nose. You felt your partner in crime shift behind you, readying to fight as well. You held your breath, lungs burning from the effort as a hand on the outside jiggled the handle. You heard the distinct clang of metal breaking. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Did that marine really just break the door? How is that even possible? How the hell can we get out?

You barely registered the marine reporting that he didn't find you two as he walked off. You felt your crush release a breath at the retreat of the Marines.

"He broke the door" you muttered to yourself. You ran your fingers over the door, finding no latch or handle on the inside.

"Why did we have to get locked in a closet on the one island with weird fucking doors? Those damn local craftsmen are too good" you groaned. You heard shuffling behind you, and suddenly a light from a small lantern exposed your surroundings- a tiny forgotten utility closet. You glanced behind you at your crush. He held the lantern up, and looked at the door that was nearly pressing into your nose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zoro

"I hate you so much right now" you hissed as you let your head thud against the door.

"Not my fault. Now open the door" he said with a shrug you felt on your back. Seething, you glared at him over your shoulder before running your fingers over what could be the latch. As you suspected, it was broken. You weren't getting out of here unless someone came and saved you from the outside. You huffed a sigh.

"I can't. The marine broke it"

"What do you mean the marine broke it? If the door's broken, you should be able to open it!"

"Do I look like an expert in fucking doors? You know this island has incredible craftsmen. It doesn't even have an obvious lock!"

"Don't yell at me, it's not my fault the doors are so weird in this place!"

You took a deep breath. Bickering wouldn't get you anywhere.

"Would you be able to cut through the door?" you asked hopefully. Zoro shook his head.

"If it were just me in here, yeah. But with you here as well, I can't even draw my sword fully without cutting both of us." You nodded, understanding, but disappointed.

"Do you have the baby den-den mushi?"

He nodded, and his chest pressed heavily against you as he rummaged around. You breathed a sigh of relief as he produced it. You quickly called the Sunny, reporting the situation to Robin, who had just gotten back from exploring the town. She said she would send a clone to start looking for you, but it would be best to report it to Luffy. You thanked her, hung up, and called Luffy. You reported the situation, and Zoro had to yell at him to shut up to get him to stop laughing. He hung up with the promise of searching for you, though he didn't ask where you were. Not that you would've been able to tell him when Zoro was leading the way.

You groaned, letting your head thud against the door.

"Tired?" the swordsman asked. You nodded, shifting your legs slightly. They ached from sprinting and dodging bullets, and there was nowhere to sit. Zoro cleared his throat and shifted an overturned bucket behind him with his foot.

"You... you can sit on my lap" he suggested. His face was flushed in the lantern light, and it was unusual for him to stutter over his words. His reaction and his words made your heart skip a beat.

"Uh.. sure" you said shyly. He pulled you to his chest and sat on the bucket. You shifted your legs so your ass was on one of his thick thighs and your thighs draped over his other thigh. He seemed unsure where to put his hands. You snorted, grabbing one and winding it around your back, and guided the other to rest in your lap. You could feel the heat of his flushed face, and could smell the faint sweet freshness of sake and tang of metal. You relaxed into his embrace, leaning your shoulder on his chest and letting yourself imagine for a second that maybe, he liked you too. You felt him shift a little.

"You okay?" you asked. You looked at his face, and he almost looked like he was scowling, lost in thought.

"Yeah... just..." he trailed off. Thinking he was uncomfortable, you went to stand again. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you close. You looked at him questioningly. You almost felt like his heart was being faster against your arm

"Just?" you prodded. He looked away, and swore under his breath.

"Just... this is nicer than I thought it would be" he admitted quietly.

"Yeah, it is"

You both froze at your unconscious agreement. He looked at you, blush still tinging his cheeks red. You babbled on nervously, your face heating.

"I-I-I mean... without being locked in a tiny closet or uh... the weird old smell in here... not that you don't smell good... you do! Like sake and metal and that's hot... I mean hot like... people could be attracted to it! Heh. I mean you're really attractive and a great man so you could get anyone you wanted... but yeah I guess sitting on your lap is nice? Not in a sexual way though... just being close to you... right? Being close to people you like is gr-"

You were cut off by heavily calloused fingers guiding your chin so slightly chapped lips could close over yours. It took you a moment to be able to relax into the kiss, letting him set the pace and guide your movements. Eventually, once air became a necessity, you broke apart.

"I like you too" he said gruffly, as if the words had never left his lips before. You stared at him, meeting his serious gaze.

"Be mine." It was a demand and a question.

You nodded, so incredibly glad you ended up locked in a forgotten, tiny room with him, sitting on his lap, and sharing kisses and jokes.

Or at least, until Luffy managed to bust down the door with his sandaled foot. Zoro protected your body with his own, easily flipping you so you were under him.

"Luffy! Be fucking careful!" Zoro snapped at his captain. Luffy waved him off, questioning you about whether or not you were hungry. You giggled, nodding. As the three of you walked back to the Sunny, Luffy noticed something strange.

"Hey, Zoro. How come you said you couldn't get out? You easily could've broken that door down with your bare hands."

Zoro's responding blush had you snorting and giggling, and he playfully gently shoved you away.

"Shut up Luffy!"

"Huuuhh? What did I do? You could've easily broke it down!"

You broke into loud laughter at this, responding before your new boyfriend combusted from embarrassment.

"He wanted to spend extra time with me, Luffy"

"OH! I didn't know you two were such good friends!"

"We're more than friends now. He's my boyfriend" you announced. Luffy stopped and blinked at the two of you before a wide grin split his face.

"Okay! If you're with him all the time maybe he won't get lost as much. Now lets go! I'm hungry!"

You grabbed Zoro's hand and chased after the captain's sprinting figure, a grin plastered on your face.

Luffy

"Are you going to open the door?" Luffy asked. You let your head thud against the wood.

"I can't. The marine broke it." you replied despondently. You heard Luffy hum.

"Lemme try!"

You felt his stretchy arms slither beside you. He felt around on the door, but suddenly slumped forward against your back.

"What's wrong?!"

"Sea prism stone" he slurred, head tucked on your shoulder. Your heart thudded as you felt his breath whisper on your neck, but dragged your focus back to the issue.

"Sea prism stone?! In a door to a storage room?!"

You felt him nodding against your back. You sighed. Damn it.

"Okay. Sit down. Let me see if I can take a better look at it"

You helped him slide off your back, ignoring the electrifying feeling of his skin against yours. I really have it bad for this man. He clumsily sat down on an overturned bucket behind him, but his knees knocked into the back of yours, sending you falling backwards onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, catching you against his chest.

You froze at the contact. You could feel the heat of his bare chest and stomach through your shirt, and you really wanted to blame that on the heat that flooded to your cheeks. But you knew better.

"S-sorry" you stuttered out. You felt Luffy shrug behind you before holding you closer.

"It's fine. Now we get to cuddle!"

You giggled nervously.

"You cuddle with everyone on the crew?" you asked lightly, turning your attention back to the door in front of you. The space was so small that your shoulder was still resting against the captain as your fingers brushed over the door when your arm was held out in front of you.

"Not really, I mean I'll hug them, but I like you so I want to cuddle with you."

Your gaze snapped back to the captain, who was already looking at you with a soft smile. You couldn't believe it, so you tried again.

"You like the rest of our crew though" you said softly.

"Yeah, but not like I like you. I feel funny when you're around. Like my stomach drops like I'm falling when you touch me, or laugh at my jokes. I want to hold you and kiss you, if you'll let me".

You blinked at him, a happy smile curving your lips.

"I'll let you do that, Luffy. I like you more tha-"

He cut you off with a sudden bruising kiss. It was a messy clash of lips and tongues and teeth. It was too wet and messy. But it was perfect, because it was Luffy. He was messy and chaotic, but at the same time, a ball of calm sunshine. He broke the kiss, breath quickened.

"This means you're mine now" he murmured, running his hand over your hair. You smiled.

"It also mean that you're mine" you parroted teasingly. He grinned at you, chuckling. You pressed a palm against the side of his face, thumb brushing gently over the scar under his eye.

"But that doesn't solve how we're going to get out of here" you muttered. He hummed.

"Let's call the Sunny, see who can come get us" he said, producing the baby den-den mushi after some rummaging and shifting.

The two of you called, and Sanji picked up. Luffy reported the general situation, and you filled in important details.

"Oh! Also, the two of us are dating now!" Luffy proudly proclaimed. You lightly smacked him upside the head.

"Ask me before telling everyone that!" you chided. Sanji started nagging him too about asking your partner before doing some things. Luffy sulked, and you couldn't stand those puppy dog eyes. You sighed.

"Fine, fine. You can tell the crew".

His answering grin made you blush and giggle. Sanji sighed at the captain's antics, but offered his sincere congratulations, muttering something about how it was damn time. Bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand, he promised to call Robin to help search for you, but he didn't know how long it would take. He was watching the ship while the others went out, but he would notify them as well. You were about to thank him when you were interrupted.

"Oi. Curly Brow. Is that you?" came a deep voice through the door. Your new boyfriend perked up.

"Ooohh! Zoroooo!! You found us!"

"Luffy?!"

"Zoro! We're locked in! Can you cut the door open? There's not much room in here, so be careful! Oh and there's sea prism stone somewhere in the door" you called. Sanji sighed on the den-den mushi, grumbling about how Zoro's ability to get lost finally came in handy for once. You thanked Sanji and quickly hung up. With a warning to stay back, Zoro sliced easily through the door.

"How in the hell did you get stuck in there?" the swordsman demanded. Luffy poked his head over your shoulder, grinning.

"We were chased by marines and then one of them accidentally broke the door, but the inside of the door had sea prism stone or somethin'" he recounted.

"What the hell kind of door is that?"

You shrugged, stretching upwards as you freed yourself from the cramped space.

"I dunno. It was stupid. But at least I got to confess and we kissed!" Luffy added on excitedly. Your face heated with a blush, and you hid a grin. Zoro laughed, smacking your new boyfriend on his shoulder.

"See? I told you just to do it!"

"You knew?!" you exclaimed. Zoro smirked at you.

"Everyone but you knew. He's not exactly subtle."

You groaned, shoving your face in your hands. Apparently, you had some things to catch up on.

Sanji

He looked at you, his visible blue eye shining with regret.

"I'm sorry I handled you so rough back there" he muttered, breath whispering against your cheek. You swore you saw tears of regret brimming in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat.

"Hey hey, it's okay. You saved me from the marines. I probably would've gotten shot and captured if you hadn't done that" you soothed. He scowled at the idea of you getting captured. You smiled at him, hoping the dim light didn't expose your darkened cheeks.

"C'mon. See if you can get this door open. I didn't have any luck" you muttered. You shifted to the side, trying to get him to pass by you, but the space was too small. You ended up chest to chest. Warmth bled through his buttoned shirt, jacket left unbuttoned for once. You cleared your throat, sure you were going to combust from embarrassment. You smelled the cloying smoky sweetness from his preferred cigarettes, the fresh scent of his cologne, and hints of what he cooked for breakfast. You looked to the back of the closet, away from his gaze, willing your heart to stop beating so fast against his obviously chiseled chest.

"S-sorry. Can you get it like this?" you muttered. The vibration of his considering hum echoed through your chest. Were you breathing? Oh god why did he smell so good? He's so warm.

"My fingers may be skilled, but I can't get it. The only way to open the door now would be to break it down from the outside, seeing as there's no room for me to kick it open"

Your face was flaming, and you stopped listening after the first sentence. You'd dreamed about what those fingers could do, and he just unknowingly admitted to it.

"Are you okay? You feel warm" he said, raising the hand opposite the door to your forehead. You squeaked at the touch.

"If you're claustrophobic, I'm sure I can find some way out of here quickly."

"No, that's not it" you admitted quietly.

"No? Look at me" he said. He sounded worried. You held back an embarrassed groan and tilted your head to look at him.

"What's wrong? Did you get hit? Are you in pain? Those damn marines-"

"Sanji. I'm fine" you finally interrupted. You felt the hand he used to feel your forehead nudged your shoulder slightly so you could stand in front of him again. You followed the silent request, and he kept you facing him. You let his gaze roam over your form, resolutely looking away towards the door over your shoulder as if you were studying the mechanism.

"You're not bleeding" he observed. You snorted.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired" you said with a small smile, finally gaining the confidence to look back at his face. His worry disappeared with a relieved smile.

"Sit on my lap then. There's a bucket I can sit on behind me" he suggested. His cheeks became rosy, but you brushed off the reaction. It would be a cold day in hell before you passed up such an opportunity, so you nodded shyly. He wrapped you in his arms and spun you around, guiding you in what felt like a short dance as he took a seat. You shifted until you were comfortable on his lap. His legs were pure, solid muscle, you noticed quite happily.

"Better? We did run quite far from the marines." His breath tickled your ear, and you nearly choked on your spit at the intimacy of the position.

"Y-y-yeah"

"Your heart is still pounding and your face is red. You sure you're okay?"

This time you let out a groan, and his arms tightened around you.

"I'm fine, Sanji! I just have feelings!" you blurted. You slapped a hand over your mouth immediately.

"Feelings?" he echoed. Oh no why did I say that? He doesn't feel that way about me. Just look how he is with Nami and Robin!

"Romantic feelings? For me?" he asked. You were too focused on your internal panic to register the shocked excitement in his voice. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as you nodded. Too late to back out now. One of his hands gently removed yours and tilted your chin so you were looking at him.

"Mon amour. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. How can I say no to perfection, to the one I've loved since I first saw you?"

"...what?" you squeaked. This was insane. He... He liked you... like that? Like you liked him? Loved you? He smiled broadly at you, his cheeks tinging pink.

"I wish you had let me confess in a more romantic setting, but anywhere with you is paradise"

That was all the confirmation you needed. You slowly leaned towards him, your gaze flicking between his lips and his visible eye. He looked surprised, but met you halfway. He let you guide the pace, keeping the kiss chaste and loving. You broke away eventually, needing air. Your eyes slipped back open.

"Sanji. Your nose is bleeding."

"Ahn~~~ I just can't help it! You're so amazing!"

You giggled. This was the Sanji you knew - hearts in his eyes and his fawning words. You hugged him, planting a kiss on his cheek. He swooned.

"So... maybe, do you want to go on a date later?" you asked in his ear. His nose bled more, and you started laughing.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now give me the baby den-den mushi so I can call the Sunny so someone can come get us out of here. I'm getting kind of hungry."

That snapped him back to his senses.

"You're hungry? My love, I will make you only the best food!"

"Thanks babe but we need to get out of here first"

"Of course! Anything for you! Hold onto my neck" he instructed, holding your body bridal style. He stood, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You felt his balance shift, before a vicious kick to the door sent it flying off its hinges and crashing into the far wall of the slim alley.

You looked at the door in shock before looking at him. He shrugged, a blush coloring his cheeks.

"It was a good excuse to spend time with you"

You laughed loudly, hiding your face in his chest.

"Lets go back to the Sunny, lover boy" you teased. He looked like he was desperately concentrating on not getting a nose bleed, and managed to smirk at you instead.

"Of course, my love"

Ace (slightly suggestive, angst if you squint)

"You have got to be fucking kidding me" you hissed, letting your head thud against the door.

"In my defense, he left his plate unsupervised"

"It was a REAR ADMIRAL! You and your stupid shirtless torso got us in trouble AGAIN!"

"Hey! I'm proud to wear the old man's jolly roger!"

"I am too, Ace! But sometimes we need to be subtle around Marines!"

Ace sighed heavily.

"You like that I'm shirtless though" he teased. You stubbornly kept your gaze on the door, fiddling with the broken mechanism as your blush ran wild.

"Shut up and see if you can open the damn door" you muttered. He reached around your waist, but immediately retracted his fingers once he brushed against it.

"Sea prism stone" he hissed. You thudded your forehead harshly against the door. Why the hell is sea prism stone in a storage room door??

"Once we get out of here, you're fucking dead" you hissed.

"I'd prefer if I was just fucking" he joked. You glared at him, reigning in your indecent thoughts. You sighed heavily.

"Yeah, well, me too. Now call for help on the baby den-den mushi. Hopefully someone can find us before you get too hungry again" you ordered. He quickly dug it out and reported the situation, along with a rough set of directions. You turned to face him, studying him. You knew now why he was the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates- he quickly could take stock of a situation, plan, and escape or fight. He recognized his surroundings and could communicate them to others, but was also incredibly strong and a great fighter. You didn't realize you were staring until he met your gaze after ending the call.

"What? Like what you see?" he said with a smirk. You shrugged.

"I think there's a lot to you that you don't show people. You're lighthearted and funny, but you have a lot of... hmmm... depth? Yeah. I was completely lost following you around, but you got the general location, and reported all the necessary details, including the sea prism stone. You're kinda impressive"

He blinked at you, a blush tinging his tanned cheeks red as you talked, and a humble smile curving his lips.

"Thanks. I guess" he mumbled. You nodded. He shuffled his feet a little, and jolted when his boot kicked an overturned bucket. He ran a hand through his black hair.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked. You shook your head, knowing he could fall asleep at any given moment, and you really didn't want him to fall on you. He took a seat on the bucket, but his knees knocked into yours, and you pitched forward with a small yelp. Warm hands caught you easily around your waist.

"Whoops" he said, grinning. Your breath hitched. The two of you were nearly nose to nose... if you just...

"Looks like you'll have to sit in my lap." He maneuvered your body so you were sitting sideways in his lap, his knees spread so you were balanced perfectly.

"T-thanks" you stuttered. He hummed an affirmative.

"Ace?"

He looked at you, a smile playing at his lips.

"I... I understand why you're the second division commander. And... I'm happy you are"

He tilted his head curiously.

"Where's this coming from?"

"I... I dunno. I just feel like you need to hear it sometimes."

You felt him stiffen at your words before he relaxed with a chuckle and held you closer in a hug.

"'s why I like you, ya know"

Your heart thudded, and your breath hitched. For a second, it sounded like he was saying he liked you. Romantically. But you shook your head. The two of you were friends, and that's probably all he would see you as.

"You like a lot of people" you said, shrugging as if your own words didn't make your heart clench with loneliness.

"Sure. But..." he sighed, and you could feel tension seeping into his body again. He felt warmer, as if he was trying not to catch on fire.

"I don't like them the same way I like you..." he muttered quietly. He started nervously babbling as you stared at him, incredulous.

"I know you won't ever see me the same way, but for our friendship, you know... it's only fair that I tell you so I can get over these feelings. But god. Fuck. You're just so... amazing. Strong. You make me laugh, and make me fucking weak. I love you, more than a friend. I'm made of fire but damn if you don't ignite something in me. I love you in a way I've never experienced before and it's so scary because I know there's no hope but-"

You cut him off with a hand tilting his head towards you, and swiftly covering his lips with yours. He tasted like the smell of heat, his lips were chapped, and he didn't kiss you back. But you knew why. You pulled back with a smirk, sliding your hand back to tangle your fingers in his black locks. You couldn't help the giggle at his blank, shocked expression.

"Kiss me back, firefly. I love you too."

This time, at the pull of your hand, he met you halfway. He took control of the kiss, kissing you desperately like he was making up for lost time. His large, warm hand cradled your jaw. You broke the kiss eventually when you started laughing giddily. He started peppering tiny kisses all over your face and down your neck.

"Remember earlier how I said you'd be fucking dead once we got out of here?"

"Mmmhmm"

"Do you remember what you said in reply?"

"...huh? Oh. Yeah"

"Well, once we get out of here, you can show me what you can do, cowboy"

He gazed at you, eyes wide with wonder. Without another word, he picked you up bridal style, and launched a vicious kick at the door. It went flying into the far side of the wall of the alley, and he staggered a little from the sea prism stone, but quickly darted out of the closet. He quickly put you down and then picked you up so you were on his back. He sprinted past part of the crew that was obviously on their way to find you, shouting quickly over his shoulder that you were both fine now.

You could only wave and laugh at their bewildered looks as he carried you away.

[andallshallbewell]

[toyastales]

Perfect storage solution for cutting boards!

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: The Dead Speak [Smiling Man x Reader]

Title: The Dead Speak [Smiling Man x Reader]

Synopsis: Your mom always told you not to play with Ouija boards. Maybe you should have listened.

For Horrorfest request: A party game seance of ouija board. Nothing seems to happen, maybe the vibes change a little, but not much else. Until they are walking home and encounter a very friendly lost young gentleman.

Word count: 2210

notes: references to dead people and ghosts, reader is drinking/tipsy

You were the only one who didn’t want to play with the Ouija board. Not because you had some deep-rooted belief in them, not really; you’d never encountered spirits or accidentally summoned a demon or anything like that after pulling out the Hasbro mass market produced party game.

But your mom had believed in them. She refused to let you bring one in the house, had adamantly reminded you before every childhood sleepover--”Absolutely no Ouija boards, my sweetness--and had even told one of your friends that they had to leave their mall-bought Ouija board hair bow in the car before they came inside for dinner.

No one else here seemed to have the same qualms, parent-induced or not, so you shrugged at being the odd one out and didn’t raise a fuss. Especially since the party was almost over, and all that remained were you, the host, and a few stragglers. 

It was Halloween night, after all--people just wanted to have fun. 

Which in this case meant the party host running around the house and shutting off all the lights while someone else dug out a bag of unused tea candles and began to light them. It wasn’t the brightest--no pun intended--idea. A fire hazard, for sure. Especially since most of the guests had already tackled the spiked apple cider and ghost-shaped jello shots, which were currently warming up your belly.

But you’d be damned if the candles didn’t make everything look dim and spooky. Your mind felt fuzzy from the darkness and the booze as you settled down with the group in the living room, scooting on your butt up to the coffee table where the board had been set up.

“Everyone knows how it works, right?” The host asked. Her deep red lipstick was smeared--from drinking or kissing--and she’d tossed aside her witch hat a while back. 

Of course you knew. Everyone knew. You put your fingers on the planchette and pretended that you weren’t moving it around while people asked questions. Inevitably someone would accuse another person of moving it and the fun would eventually dissipate. Or so you’d seen at slumber parties, while you dutifully sat on the bed and finished painting your nails or simply watched, hugging a pillow, wondering if it was betraying your mom to play with Ouija outside the house.

That was when  you were a kid, though. There was no deep-rooted feeling of betrayal now as you rested two fingers on the planchette. Only a vague sense of giddiness, spurned on by the alcohol, by the very existence of Halloween night. 

“Is there a spirit in the room with us?” The host asked softly. 

Was it your imagination, or did the candles flicker? They seemed dimmer, somehow. Probably because they were cheap tea lights. 

And then the planchette moved--probably the host, you thought--towards the most obvious (and fun) option: 

YES.

Someone giggled. You snorted, and wondered how many jello shots were left on the counter. You were going to walk home, anyway.

“Who are you?” 

“What if it’s a demon?” Someone asked. You couldn’t quite tell whose voice was coming from where in the dark. And you didn’t know everyone at the party, anyway, aside from the host and a few people who’d already left.

“Then we’ll ask him politely yet firmly to leave,” you said, giving your best Hank HIll impression. One person laughed, so at least someone here appreciated your ability to reference an unholy amount of TV shows or movies at the drop of a hat.

But the planchette didn’t slide across the letters DEMON. Instead, it shifted towards three letters in slow succession. 

M...O…M.

Something queasy turned over in your gut. The spiked cider and sub sandwich that had been sitting out too long, probably.

“Is anyone’s mom dead?” The host asked, then immediately gasped. “Oh fuck, sorry, that was shitty to say.” She glanced at you sheepishly. Your cheeks heated up and your stomach turned sour again.

Your mom was dead. But you probably weren’t alone, even in a small group. Cancer was a bitch and it took a lot of people, didn’t it? Ah well. You brushed aside that sour feeling and reminded yourself that your friend was drunk.

She cleared her throat. “Whose mom are you?”

The planchette started to move. The sound of the plastic moving over the cardboard was thin and dragging, like someone scraping their nails down a box.

Letter by letter, the planchette spelled your name.

You took your hands off the planchette and felt words fly freely out of your loose, alcohol-tinged lips.

“That’s really fucked up. Are you kidding me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The host--your friend, if you would even call her that anymore--put her own hands up in defense. Everyone else slowly let their fingers fall away from the planchette, watching the exchange between you two in awkward silence. 

Party over. 

“I swear to God I’m not moving it. I’m sorry, fuck, you know I wouldn’t do that. I swear to God I didn’t.”

You scooted back from the table and stood up. You felt sober, suddenly, even though your spinning head from getting up too quickly said otherwise.

“Whatever. I’m out. This is just mean.” You shook your head, ignoring your friend’s protests--

And that’s when the planchette started moving again. 

Slowly. Letter by letter. With no one’s hands on the damn thing.

“What the hell?” Someone asked. 

You didn’t want to look. You wanted to get out of here. It was a sick prank, that’s what it was. But the planchette kept moving, and finally someone leaned over and began to sound out the letters, until they formed a sentence.

A sentence that made your bowels clench so hard you thought you would piss yourself. 

I TOLD U NEVER TO PLAY WITH OUIJA BOARDS

It couldn’t be. This was sick. This was wrong. 

This was…

“Mom?”

The words left your lips soft and shaky.  You weren’t sure anyone else heard them.

But then the awful planchette slid across the board again, and someone read the letters until they made sense; terrible, horrifying sense.

ABSOLUTELY NO OUIJA BOARDS, MY SWEETNESS

My sweetness. A nickname only your mom had called you growing up. She called you that to her last breath, wheezing and agonized. 

You leaned over and immediately retched onto the carpet, blobs of bright green jello mingling with chewed up pieces of Italian sub. Before anything else could be said, by the board or the guests, you ran, barely stopping to snatch your purse from the entryway, leaving as fast as your shaking legs could carry you.

--

The streets were dark and mostly empty. It was long past time for kids to be in bed, stomachs filled with chocolate and piles of Skittles, parents picking out their favorite candies to hide in the cupboard. All that was left were the late night party-goers walking home in varying states of disarray, carrying heels in their hands or making jokes too loudly in the startling darkness of the night.

And then there was you, head buzzing, stomach reeling, walking home after a Ouija board apparently contacted the spirit of your dead mother.

“Excuse me?” A man called out behind you.

You jumped, and slid your hands into your purse to wrap your fingers around your keys.  You knew it wasn’t going to do much, but it would do something, if it came to that.

You slowly turned around, grip on your keys tighter than ever, and saw a young man wearing a skeleton hoodie and sweatpants. 

He looked befuddled. He looked, more specifically, lost.

And he also looked… familiar. Was he at the party? You squinted, trying to clear your head. He might have been. Did he follow you to see if you were okay?

You definitely knew him from somewhere, but you couldn’t quite place him. 

Still, your fingers reflexively gripped your keys. He glanced down at your hands, then took a step back and put his own hands up where you could see they were empty. 

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” He grinned a little, and shook his head. “I’m just completely lost and was wondering if you could help me. I didn’t bring my phone out tonight. Trying to live in the moment, you know?”

You swallowed, tasting the remnants of bile. Something about him, really--it was itching at the back of your scalp. Did he go to the same college? Maybe you saw him on campus. Or maybe he really had been at your friend’s house and you just didn’t remember. 

“Um,” you said. “Were you at the party?” 

He tilted his head a little, and smiled boyishly.

“Not quite.” 

Well, that wasn’t an answer. Your fingers loosened on the keys, though, as your heart rate returned to something like normal and you figured if he was going to try something, he’d have done it already. 

You blinked at him for a moment and then remembered what he said. “Oh! Uh, where were you trying to go? I can use my Google Maps if you want.”

It was hard to see from the streetlights, but you could swear there was a twinkle in his eye when you said that. Shit, maybe you were drunker than you thought. 

You fished your phone from your purse and after a few unsuccessful swipe attempts, brought up Google Maps. 

But… it wouldn’t load. That was weird. You didn’t have any bars--also weird--but you downloaded the local map just in case your 5G ever shit the bed. But the map wouldn’t load. It simply displayed a blank black and gray space in night time mode, refusing to let you bring up directions.

“Uhh,” you mumbled. “My phone is absolutely not working.” 

He didn’t look phased. He simply shrugged. “That’s okay. I actually live off Main Street, it’s one of those split houses… yellow and red and--”

“I know where that is!” You blurted. Then covered your mouth, messy lipstick and all. “I mean. If you want, I can walk you there. Unless you’d rather go alone, and I can just give you directions.” 

“You seem pleasant enough company,” is all he said. And you ought to have thought about that more, because it was a really strange way to phrase things, wasn’t it? But all you thought about was how creepily your night ended and how he looked pretty cute and maybe you could exchange phone numbers when you got to his place.

You walked, side by side, making idle conversation. He told you his name. You gave him yours. He said he liked your costume. You said you really liked his sweater, totally Halloweeny, and he seemed to genuinely appreciate the compliment. 

The streets felt more familiar the closer you got to Main Street, although there was still only the odd stray person or car slowly idling down the road. 

Anxiety still slept in the bottom of your stomach but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t so bad, to talk to a good looking stranger now and then. Especially after what happened at the party. 

(Was it really your mom?)

You didn’t want to think about that. About mom. About whether or not her spirit was hanging around in some ghastly limbo, chastising you for finally playing with a Ouija board like everyone else had done for decades. 

Eventually, you were there, at the driveway of the old house that had been split into apartments like so many others a few years ago. You fumbled with your phone and were able to ask for his phone number, lips curled into a smile, when he spoke.

“Did something happen? At the party? Something unusual?” 

Your awkward smile fell. 

“Um.” It would be weird to tell him, right? Especially after seemingly hitting it off on the way home. You didn’t just tell strangers that you maybe encountered a real ghost while using a Ouija board after doing a few shots and drinking questionably spiked apple cider at a friend’s house. Did you? 

“No,” you lied. “Just a boring ol’ Halloween party, I guess.” 

“Ah,” he said slowly. “That’s a shame. I thought it might have been an interesting story.”

You suddenly felt stupid and lame and why would this cute guy want to give you his number, anyway? You were some drunk weirdo who walked him home and that was that. You mumbled some sort of farewell and began to walk off, eager to get home and get into your pajamas. 

“You know,” he said, and you stopped and turned to listen to him. Maybe he was going to give you his contact information, after all.  “You should be careful with Ouija boards, my sweetness. You don’t know what you might invite in.” 

Oh. For the second time that night, you felt like you were going to vomit.

“Why did you call me that?  How did you--you said you weren’t at the party.” 

“I wasn’t,” he said simply. “Not quite.” 

How did he know, how did he know, how did he know?

And this mystery man in his Halloween sweatshirt, with his blonde cornfield hair and some awful, unknowable answers in his expression, simply looked at you.

And smiled. 

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG devolkitchens

[galaxywhump]

I still want to put Wren in a box

As you wish! Of course I ended up with more than 100 words, so it's an almost-quadruple drabble.

Set in the Berkeley's Revenge AU.

contents: recapture, muzzle, restraints, trapped in a small space, referenced carved mark and amputation.

~~~

“I could use a break from having to see you, Rackham. Your face pisses me off.”

Wren glares up at Berkeley from inside the huge cardboard box he had been pushed into. As much as he hates to admit it, there’s nothing he can do, muzzled, forced into a curled up position with his wrists cuffed behind his back and his ankles restrained. Berkeley snorts and closes the box, and Wren grimaces as the sound of pulling duct tape fills his ears. He’s never been claustrophobic, but his stomach still sinks when Berkeley seals his new temporary prison with layers upon layers of tape. He’s trapped, and he has no idea how long he’s going to be left here, and he can barely move and the muzzle makes it harder to breathe and-

Calm down. He exhales and closes his eyes. Just stay calm until he opens the box.

He can’t give Berkeley the satisfaction of hearing him protest and struggle, and that thought helps him tune out all the other ones.

He hears Berkeley sit down on a chair with a satisfied sigh, and a moment later he flinches when the top of the box sinks with a creak, as if-

Ah. So he’s being a footstool again. At least this time it’s indirect, and he doesn’t have to feel Berkeley’s boots on his back. It’s the small things.

“At least you make a decent footstool,” Berkeley laughs, and Wren frowns. “Maybe I’ll just make the box into your new home? It’s cozy and I won’t have to look at you too often. Sounds like a plan.”

Wren’s heart skips a beat, but he forces himself to relax. It’s bearable. No matter what Berkeley does to him, he can survive it. He has survived so much already; being stuck in a stupid box is nothing.

It’s just that the box is yet another thing on top of the word carved into his chest, the loss of a finger, the forced haircut, the threats, the constant reminders that he’s going to be killed. He’s going to be okay, he’s going to be saved, he is - but as he’s lying there, in darkness, sick and tired of having to stay strong and only rely on himself, he bitterly wishes that his rescuers would hurry up and find him already.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

[kitaston]

Writing Desk

ph. Alice Grace

[the-home]

[oldfarmhouse]

tiny cabin

𝗁𝗍𝗍𝗉://instagram.com/forestbound

[howifeltabouthim]

He does whatever he wants, it's fun for him, he doesn't care.

Katherine Arden, from Empty Smiles

[toyastales]

Peachy 🍑 Dream

[after-witch]

He offered a hand. She hesitated a minute more. Then she scowled and took it. It should have been cold, or slimy, but it felt just like anyone else’s hand. He was so normal in some ways. It made all the rest worse. 

--Katherine Arden, Empty Smiles

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG lisa_loves_vintage

[mymidwestheart]

If I needed to have a small space, like a small condo in the city (esp if I had more than one place due to frequent travel which will prob never happen), I couldn’t find a more perfect space. 😻