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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Note

hi spud! i remembered u did requests & was wondering if maybe u could do like a first kiss scenario w din? 🥺 something soft & yearn-y? aha. no worries if u can't but thanks anyways. 🩷

Hello Senna! Thank you so much for your request! Thinking about a first kiss with Din really inspired me (how does he hide his face from you and still kiss you? What leads up to the moment?? so many questions!!) and this was the result. There is plenty of yearning and some softness sprinkled in but a little angst too (very happy ending though aghhhdkgj). Thanks again and really hope you like it!! 🤍

A New Dawn

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5107

Rating: General

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy with a mysterious nameless and faceless Mandalorian with a reputation as the best bounty hunter in the parsec would probably terrify most people. Instead, over the months you have known Mando, you have discovered his gentler, more affectionate side. Living in such proximity to the man you have an enormous crush on threatens to suffocate you as you determine that he must never find out. But after a job seemingly goes badly wrong on a forest planet, the fear of losing him will perhaps finally be the tipping point for a new dawn in your relationship...

Content Warnings: Kissing, bit of angst when there's brief panic for Din/reader's safety (happy ending though!), allusions to violence (canon-typical, nothing descriptive/graphic).

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Upon that fateful day on which you had entered an agreement with a bounty hunter, you had been under no illusions that there would be much unpredictability given his line of work. That there would be periods of isolation when he left you behind in his ship while he went in search of his latest bounty. You could be alone on that ship for weeks; well, save for the big-eared, bug-eyed green baby, whose care you had been entrusted with, by the mysterious man who was your employer. When agreeing to travel with The Mandalorian, you had expected the randomness of the path that you cut through the galaxy, journeying from planet to planet depending on his latest jobs. The anguish that came with wondering where he was and whether the jobs were going well as you sat in the Razor Crest and cared for his child. Despite how much it had bothered you at first, you had gradually become used to such emotions. You expected them.

What you had never expected was the fondness you had developed for the man.

The first few times that Mando had headed off the ship for a job, you had been almost nonchalant about his absence, barely noticing the passage of time. You passed your days playing with The Child when you were not fast asleep in your bunk. But slowly and surely, he had begun to mean something more to you. You noticed it in his absence most of all. The ship felt empty without his deep voice and you missed his calm, reassuring presence.

It was strange really, considering that you had never laid eyes upon him. In fact, you had rarely seen him dressed in anything less than his full armour, complete with all the weapons he attached to himself almost ritualistically, without fail, every single day. Even if you were merely hurtling through hyperspace, he was still armed to the teeth. Mando had explained that weapons were part of his religion and his armour was like a second skin to him. You were curious, but not judgmental, about his way of life. It was vastly different to your own and entirely contradictory to anything you had ever heard about Mandalorians before. Even the scant information you had overheard about the formidable warriors in the miserable Cantina where you had once been employed had never included anything about Mandalorians being forbidden from removing their helmets in the presence of others.

Mando had made it abundantly clear, before you ever stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest, that wearing his helmet was a definitive boundary, never to be questioned or pushed. It was his ultimate line in the sand that you were never to cross. You were respectful of his Creed, asking questions with a curious rather than invasive intention which he seemed to appreciate. In fact, rather than driving a wedge between you, his Way had provoked many thoughtful conversations between the two of you.

There were nights you would sit in the cockpit as the brilliant blue trails of hyperspace surrounded you, bonding over your similar pasts. Sometimes, you would wake up in the bunk underneath the tiny hammock that belonged to The Child with no memory of clambering in the previous night. He never admitted it, but you were almost certain that Mando had carried you there himself, putting his impressive physique to use for something other than hauling bounties back to the Razor Crest.

Amongst it all, you had learned his habits and quirks. You learned the way he liked his caf in the morning. How meticulous he was with polishing his armour until it gleamed so brightly, even in the dark of hyperspace, that you could see every detail of your reflection, right down to your pores. You discovered that he cleaned his weapons, taking them apart and checking every inch of them when he was particularly stressed or his bounties were not as straightforward as he had hoped.

Most of all, you discovered how incredibly kind and caring the man beneath the hard, intimidating armour truly was.

Although he had weapons strapped to every inch of his body, Mando could be impossibly gentle. You had witnessed evidence of his ruthless efficiency when he returned to the ship laden with several bounties. Sometimes alive, sometimes dead, though he usually prevented you from seeing the more grisly sights. Yet the man you saw most often of all, moving around the Razor Crest with you as you hurtled around the galaxy, amongst the stars was different to reconcile with the violent nature of his profession.

It was difficult to believe that the hands that had earned him the reputation as the most formidable bounty hunter in the parsec due to their proficiency in neutralising even elusive targets were the very same hands that were impossibly gentle when placing The Child in his hammock. The same hands that had extinguished countless lives had been used to rock the little one after he awoke from the nightmares that frequently plagued him. Nightmares that plagued Mando, too. But you had never been bold enough to bring up the tossing and turning you had heard from his bunk pretty much every night since you had started travelling with him. Despite the relatively personal conversations and information you had gleaned from him, it still felt a step too far. You didn’t want to cause him to shut down by prying, especially not after he had seemed to become genuinely comfortable in your presence and show you the gentler side of his nature.

You felt so privileged to see such a side to him. It was a side that you had never expected to witness. After all, you had been utterly terrified the first time you encountered him, when he strutted into the run-down Cantina you worked in. He was impossible not to stare at, clad in that unpainted armour that glinted when the light hit it in just the right spot. You had never seen a Mandalorian in the flesh before, but you had heard plenty of legends about them. Mandalorians were famed across the galaxy for their ruthless, lethal accuracy and formidable fighting skills.

That feeling of gratitude had soon developed into something else, though. A feeling that you would class as affection, albeit affection that was veering dangerously close into the territory of a four-letter word that your mind could not even contemplate. A feeling that would be all too dangerous to harbour for a man who you still felt you knew so little about.

You were certain that your feelings for Mando were doing untold damage to your health. Living in such proximity to a man you harboured a devastatingly intense crush towards would one day succeed in suffocating you. Your chest ached whenever he was near, knowing that there was no possibility he could ever reciprocate your feelings. You knew that your love would remain unrequited. Above all, you knew that he must never, ever discover the depths of your affection towards him.

There were more than a few times you had dissolved into tears during a few moments of solitude in the ‘fresher; your salty tears mixing with the hot jets of water from the Razor Crest’s shower. One particular occasion, when your feelings had left you particularly devastated, was the evening when Mando had returned from his latest job, during which he had to terminate the asset after one escape attempt too many. The asset’s termination would result in a lower fee and you knew that was partially the reason for Mando’s frustration. Yet, despite his reputation, you also knew that he did not relish killing bounties, much preferring to lure them back to the ship and freeze them in carbonite. In everything you knew about him, it appeared that Mando did not get a particular thrill from killing people that he, personally, had no qualms with. Although you knew that if anyone ever threatened even one white hair on the wrinkled little head of The Child, Mando would not hesitate to cut them down where they stood.

That evening, The Mandalorian’s exasperation had been evident from the second he had returned to the Razor Crest, ordering you and The Child to hide in the cockpit while he stored the remains so you would not have to witness such a gruesome sight. You knew immediately that the job had not been easy and your heart ached for him. When Mando had given you the all-clear, you had descended the ladder down to the main hull of the ship with shaky hands and legs. Your trembling limbs did not come from the fact you were descending the rungs one-handed and carefully cradling The Child in your other arm, you were well used to that. No, you were dreading seeing Mando so frustrated… because of the way it made you feel. Seeing him so wound up, knowing that you were the one to put his pieces back together in your own subtle way thrilled you. It was a dangerous prospect.

“I take it the job wasn’t successful?” You questioned, tone neutral. You attempted to appear as nonchalant as possible as you handed The Child to him. You hoped that taking the little one in his arms would go some way to calming him down.

“No,” Mando responded, definitively. His tone of voice made it abundantly clear that he did not want to discuss the matter further with you.

“Perhaps I could put The Child to bed, while you take a shower?” You offered, wanting to do anything to soothe his frayed nerves.

Mando shook his head.

“I’ll do it, thanks,” he added gruffly.

You nodded before turning your back and climbing the ladder back up to the cockpit to give them their space. There was hardly any privacy in a ship so compact. Sometimes it could feel slightly claustrophobic aboard the Razor Crest, but you and Mando had worked a pretty good system out by now so you did not feel as though you were constantly on top of each other. You learned that he was a surprisingly patient man and did not express his anger in the way one might have expected from one capable of so much violence.

It was no surprise when you descended the rungs a while later to find him standing in front of the weapons cabinet, broad shoulders tensed as he examined his impressively-stocked armoury. You didn’t say a word, wondering whether he was about to tell you to return to the cockpit and leave him alone. Though you hoped that he would interpret your presence as a comforting one, not an invasive one.

“Could you pass me the cleaning cloth, please?” Mando asked.

“Of course,” you replied, opening the crate where he kept his cleaning equipment. You selected the cloth that you knew he favoured and handed it to him, the corners of your lips curving upwards in a slight, shy smile.

“Thank you,” Mando said appreciatively as his gloved hand rested on your upper arm and squeezed it gently. You sensed that he was thanking you for much more than passing him the cloth. Something about his touch and the way he said it had sickened you to your core.

“I‘m gonna take a shower,” was all you managed to say, before you turned away from him.

You had practically sprinted to the ‘fresher then, needing privacy more than anything as you crumbled. As tears streamed down your cheeks, you tortured yourself over and over asking the same question:

How could a man capable of such violence be so gentle with you?

Your soul was truly tortured by the feelings that you held for this man.

It was that moment you thought of now. A moment amongst many others, as you sat and waited for Mando to return from his latest assignment. You were accustomed to days turning to weeks and weeks even turning to months on the rare occasion. It was a solitary experience, just you and The Child in the Razor Crest. You would not see another life form for weeks. Nor would you speak to anyone other than The Child. You weren't always certain whether he understood you. Mando always left a comlink with you, but it was reachable only by him. It was strictly for emergencies. In all the months that you had travelled with him, it had never once sounded when he was off on a mission. It had led you to wonder whether it even worked at all.

Occasionally, Mando would permit you to leave the ship but on particularly hostile planets, you were confined to the silver hull of his home, with just your ration packs and the mysterious green child for company.

This particular planet was one of such peril. Thus, Mando had forbidden you from leaving the ship. Although you always respected his demands, for The Child’s as much as your own sake, you adored the little guy, the loneliness was beginning to eat into your gut and make you feel grouchy after such a long period of isolation. Mando had told you that he expected the job to last no more than three days, but it was ten since he had crept out in the dead of night, armed to the teeth in pursuit of a crime lord who had made one enemy too many.

As you lay back on the bunk, thinking of the man who had unexpectedly left such a deep impression on your heart, The Child began mewling. You instantly sat up, sighing softly as you reached into his hammock and stroked the end of one of his large green ears between your thumb and forefinger.

“What’s up, buddy?” You questioned, rocking him gently and hoping that you had prevented him from dissolving into gut-wrenching sobs.

The Child just gazed at you with his big brown eyes, expression unreadable.

“Do you want something to eat?” You asked, often knowing that the way to soothe his heart was through his stomach.

The Child finally gave some indication of what was wrong with a small nod and you opened the door to the bunk and made your way towards the fortunately still well-stocked cupboards. Fortunately, Mando was fastidious in always ensuring there was enough food for the two of you. You appreciated that all the more as you gave The Child a bar which he wolfed down in only a couple of bites, despite his tiny frame. He had been fed barely an hour ago, but the little guy had a voracious appetite.

With a newly full stomach, you hoped that the little womp rat would finally get some sleep when you returned him to his hammock. Yet, as you lay back on your own bunk, you found that you could not settle.

Time became an illusion after so many days cooped up in the Razor Crest and despite the late hour, according to your chrono, you found that you were wide awake. There was nothing to do except pace around the Crest.

You must have paced around the Crest enough times to cover the circumference of the planet when you were finally on when a sound caused you to stop in your tracks. It sounded like a faint crackle from where your comlink rested on some crates, forgotten and discarded. Until now. You barely had time to react before it chirped into life, with the sound of a familiar deep voice crackling slightly suddenly blaring from it.

Mando was calling your name.

You darted across the hull and scooped up the comlink from its position on top of the very crate from which you had fished out cleaning supplies. You were startled by the fact that Mando was actually using it.

“It’s Mando,” he panted, tone desperate. “Listen, things aren’t looking good. If I’m not back by sunrise, take The Child and run. Promise me, you’ll get out of there. Promise m–”

Before Mando could finish and much less, could you even respond, the line went dead.

You stood there, startled by the turn of events. Your mind racing with thoughts. Where would you go? Which supplies should you pack? How far away was sunrise from now? Could you even use a blaster to shoot an enemy down, if needed? What were you going to do without Mando? How would you take care of The Child alone?

You wanted to sink to your knees, shout and scream. That was not an option. You knew that you had to keep going. Mando had wanted you to vow to him, which you would have done in a heartbeat had the line not first been cruelly cut. Even if he could not hear you, you still wanted to pledge your word to him.

“I promise I’ll protect The Child, Mando,” you whispered, clutching the comlink to your chest as tears streamed down your cheeks silently and the realisation that you could find yourself alone in the galaxy once more dawned upon you.

You spent the next couple of hours packing and then repacking as many bags as you could manage to carry and pathetically practising gripping a blaster. Mando had demonstrated once or twice, in case you ever found yourself in a bind. You were certainly in one now, but the adrenaline coursing through your body made it near impossible to remember such careful, deliberate instructions. You contemplated the fact that he had chosen you for a reason, to care for The Child. Whatever such a reason was, it seemed futile now. You were in no fit state to care for anyone.

The guilt threatened to overwhelm you as you spent a few precious minutes watching The Child sleep, blissfully unaware of the anguished state his caregiver was currently in. Your heart ached for him. The bond he shared with Mando was something beyond words and you knew he would be devastated. How could you manage to take care of a distraught child and keep him safe from the same evil forces that had taken his father?

You checked your chrono, heart sinking as you realised how close sunrise now was. Your heart thundered in your ears as you ascended the ladder for what was almost certainly the last time, your head peeking over the floor of the cockpit as you saw the pitch blackness of night gradually giving way to the lighter shade of blue that indicated that sunrise was imminent. As soon as the sky was flecked with oranges and pinks, you knew you had to obey Mando’s command and leave.

You imagined him, frightened and injured, stumbling his way through the thick trees you could just about see from the cockpit, desperately fighting to return to you. You willed him on, hoping against all odds that he would make it back to you, safe and sound. You would berate him for putting himself into such a dangerous position. Then, you would piece him back together and prepare him to do it all over again. You were hopelessly devoted to him. Now, such devotion had placed you in this position. Alone, once again.

Alas, despite a valiant effort, Mando's return was not to be. He had tried his best, but it was not good enough. When the sky blazed brilliant bronze, you knew it was time to go.

You descended the rungs for the last time, bidding a silent farewell to the ship where you had found so much happiness with such an unlikely companion and his even unlikelier son. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes filling with tears as the finality of the moment dawned on you. Then, you exhaled and pushed your shoulders back, imagining yourself wearing armour like Mando. You had to do it, for him. You had to grant his dying wish. You had to be brave for The Child.

You were only two paces from the bunk when you heard it. The unmistakable whirring of the Razor Crest’s door opening. It was a sound that usually signified Mando's return. This time, though, it signified your imminent demise.

You were frozen to the spot, then. You were certain that the forces that had gotten to Mando were now here to finish you and The Child off, too. You contemplated reaching for the blaster that was in the bags just a few steps away, but you knew it was futile, given your inexperience. The forces that had murdered your Mandalorian would make short work of someone as inept as you. The best you could do was give yourself up, so that The Child may live. Hopefully, he would be undetected in his bunk, sleeping soundly despite the bloodshed just a few paces away.

You shut your eyes and thought of Mando, wondering if you were about to join him. You braced yourself for a blaster shot that never came. For it was not the alien sounds of a mysterious, threatening entity that your ears detected emanating approaching your position. No, it was not that at all.

Instead, you stood there, aghast as the familiar heavy, even thuds and slight clinking of armour echoed with every step up the ramp of the Razor Crest. The reassuring sound finally reached through your frayed nerves and your eyes flew open as you spun around in disbelief. This was not the end. There was no threat. Instead, there was an instantly familiar sound, one that you had feared you would never hear again. The noise signalled to you that somehow, against all odds, he had returned to you.

“Mando?” You questioned, momentarily terrified that an enemy holding a blaster would appear into view behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Mando huffed and you realised that particular fear was unfounded. “Job got a bit messier than I anticipated.”

The only indication of the gravity of his situation that had necessitated his desperate message was the evidence of numerous blaster shots that his armour had clearly taken, given the black marks on its otherwise pristine surface. The corners of your lips curled up in a knowing smirk. You knew he would spend most of your journey to the next planet cleaning every single plate with painstaking attention to detail.

“But th-the you used the comlink?” You stuttered, aghast at his sudden appearance in the Razor Crest.

“I did,” he confirmed. “And were you about to leave?” Mando asked as he entered the ship and approached you. You were unable to reply with words, suddenly feeling incredibly choked up. You nodded and gestured towards the bags you had hurriedly packed.

“Good,” Mando nodded approvingly.

“I thought you were…” you shook your head, unable to finish that sentence and vocalise the dark places your mind had travelled.

“Dead.” Mando finished for you.

You nodded again. You would almost be amused by his familiar bluntness were you not still so shocked by his presence.

“I had sharper reflexes,” he shrugged cockily, a simple explanation for events that you were sure were far more complex than he was letting on.

“I thought I was alone. I thought I… I thought I’d have to leave here and never see you again,” you stammered, voice cracking at the thought. “Did you at least complete the job?”

“Yes,” Mando nodded. “Proof of termination was sufficient and I acquired it,” he explained, deep voice slightly hoarse thanks to the force that he had undoubtedly exerted in completing such a perilous job.

“I don’t know if I want to kill you, or kiss you right now,” you sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at his accomplishment. Then, the realisation that you had finally given voice to your most intimate thoughts dawned on you. You clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes widening in horror. You were utterly mortified.

Mando was unmoving, which only added to your panic. You noticed the way his hands clenched into fists briefly and he sighed deeply. Then he tilted his head slightly and unclenched his fists.

“Close your eyes,” Mando commanded.

Although his voice was quiet, something about the way he said it struck fear into your heart. There was a darkness to his voice, to his tone that terrified you. You were certain that he was going to punish you for such a remark. You had always been slightly afraid of him despite the gentleness he had shown you. Now, it appeared that those lingering fears were well-founded. He was probably disgusted by you. He had taken you in when you were at your lowest, given you a job, a bunk and a purpose.

Yet, he had unknowingly given you so much more than that. It didn’t matter anymore, though. Especially not now that you had let your feelings get the better of you. You were convinced that he was going to kick you out, convinced that there was absolutely no possibility that he reciprocated your feelings for him. Mando hated you. You were certain of that.

“Mando, I’m sorry. I didn’t mea–” you stammered, eyes still widened in horror.

The presence of soft leather against your skin abruptly cut your frantic apologies off, mid-utterance. His glove was warm across your forehead, nose and cheeks as his hand dwarfed your features. The loss of vision that came with his gloved hand covering your eyes stopped all coherent thoughts in your brain. The hiss of his helmet depressurising, a sound you had previously heard only through the door of the ‘fresher, made your heart quicken until it was beating with alarming speed. Then, the feeling of his soft lips moving gently against yours caused it to stop completely.

You were struck by two things. Firstly, the fact that the man you had been certain was dead, was not only very much alive but was presently moving his lips against yours. Secondly, underneath his helmet, Mando apparently kept a moustache. You could feel the bristles of his facial hair tickling slightly as his lips claimed yours in a tender kiss.

You were certain that your heart was going to give out if your knees did not first, momentarily fearful that you would send the pair of you crashing in a tangle of limbs to the hard, metallic surface of the Razor Crest’s floor with a thud. Fortunately, you happened to be kissing the most formidable bounty hunter in the parsec, who soon wrapped his spare arm around your waist and demonstrated, in the way that he held you, all the strength and certainty that had gained him such a reputation. You smirked against his lips as the hand that was not currently covering your eyes trailed up your back, travelling across your body over the coat that you had pulled on in preparation for your imminent departure from the Razor Crest.

The movement of your lips together was electrifying. It confirmed that the connection you were certain had been building between the two of you was real. It felt so natural, as though you had always been destined to be pulled into each other’s orbits in this way. You felt chills traverse your skin as your brain perceived the scent of his glove, given its proximity to your nose. At once, you could smell the story of his perilous brush with death. There was the distinctive smoky scent of explosions, the sharp metallic smell from his ever-steady grip on his blaster, the earthy undertones – no doubt thanks to days of traipsing through undergrowth, – the musky smell that was unmistakably masculine, unmistakably him and finally, the faint hints of leather. As you registered each scent, you were reminded, once again, of the lethality this man was capable of. A man who was currently kissing you with such fondness and affection.

When your lungs started to burn – from the exhilaration or oxygen deprivation, you weren’t sure – Mando finally pulled away, leaving you breathless and dizzy from the events which had just transpired between the two of you. You smiled and bit your lip in glee, as the realisation of the monumental shift in your relationship that had just occurred hit you. You hoped it had not been a one-off, a fleeting moment of carelessness on his part that he would come to regret.

“You couldn’t kill me anyway,” Mando whispered, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You were stunned. Clearly, that was not the case. This had been a deliberate, measured action on his part.

Then, the tell-tale hissing sound indicated that Mando had replaced his helmet. You couldn’t help the fact that your heart dropped a little at the sound. After all, despite how much you respected his devotion to The Way, there was always a simmering curiosity about his appearance. Especially having just kissed him. You could still feel the slight scratchiness that lingered on your skin from the bristles of his facial hair, a ghost of the kiss you had just shared; a reminder that it had happened.

Mando removed his hand from your eyes and you mourned the loss of contact, having relished the way that his hand had engulfed your face with its enormous size as it drowned your features. He always seemed to be everywhere, a looming presence over you.

“Mando, I –” you began, but he raised the same gloved hand that had just rested against your forehead, cutting you off once again.

“My name is Din,” he said quietly before he lowered his hand again.

“Oh,” you breathed, stunned that he had entrusted you with such a precious piece of information.

Although, given the fact that he had just kissed you, perhaps it was a logical step. Nevertheless, you appreciated the fact that you finally had a name to put to the deep voice you adored. Din, not Mando, was the man who had just stolen all rational thought from your mind with the gentle touch of his lips.

You smiled then, the first genuine smile that had graced your features since Din had left the Razor Crest ten days previously. Only a few minutes ago, you had feared that he would never return. Now, just when you had been certain your life with him was over, it appeared that it was just beginning.

As the sun rose over the Razor Crest, still surrounded by the trees of the forest planet you had been certain would be the location of an ending, it was clear that a new dawn was here for you and Din. A beginning was upon you, the start of something beautiful.

It was the first kiss you had shared with Din. But you were certain that it would not be your last.

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics #inbox #request #suresnips

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sainzinnorris · 1 month

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CARLANDO AUSTRALIA GP 2024 EDITION !

1. 22nd March 24': new carlando video challenge is being filmed, carlando having breakfast together yesterday, lando hanging out with carlos³. lando being carlos's first choice, lando wearing a carlando bracelet. ln⁴ shipping carlando. heart eyes mfs. carlando drought is over!!! ♥️🧡. lando predicting a "leclerc" pole or a carlos pole position for quali. lando calling carlos “carlitos”

2. 23rd March 24': carlos takes p2 in quali, lando p3 in quali after checo gets a grid penalty of 3 places.

3. 24th March 24':

• carlando subtle fist bumping. way too subtle but on point. (ref: carlando fist bump)

• carlando 1-3!! first carlando podium of 2024! and podium celebrations!

• another cinematic hug. they're incapable of hugging like normal people.

• carlos's hand on the back of lando's head even after he pulled away from the hug.

• adam and zak congratulating carlos.

• lando literally dragging his chair to sit closer to carlos in the cooldown room.

• lando helping him onto the podium

• lando's smile when carlos lifts his trophy.

• lando calling their shared podium as “...ehh romantic?” aha! it is. (i am not making this up. 😭)

• lando telling everyone how he knows carlos and understands what he's capable of putting forth and thereby doesn't think carlos is a underrated irrespective of how it looks from the outside of the sport. there's charles's answer in this too, but this clip is truly the highlight of my day. (ref: this clip) .

• lando and papa sainz (im also pretty sure there's two other pictures, but I'm just keeping the photo limit in mind) and also this clip (lando being an honourary sainz member part 554! 😌)

• papa norris reposting the hug in his stories. (ref: clip. )

• joint posts return! lando calling carlos “carlitos”. carlos reshares it in his story with #CARLANDOOO (which is ironically the way he calls lando..the triple O's). lando liking caco's comment. lando's song choice is quite... interesting 👁️👁️ (song: prove it; 21 savage feat summer walker)

#carlando masterpost #carlos sainz jr #lando norris #formula 1 #carlando #australian gp 2024 #f1 #formula one #let me know if i missed anything #Stella's textposts #all credits to twitter users linked in the post and pinterest!

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intheticklecloset · 11 months

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Catlike Qualities (Bungo Stray Dogs)

One Shot

Summary: Atsushi gets stuck in an awkward position on the couch and Akutagawa takes full advantage of it.

A/N: So...new fic! It's been over six months since I shared anything new, but I've been feeling good about it lately, so here we are. I struggled to decide what to return with, as I've written a few fics for various fandoms in my off time, but ultimately I decided I wanted to return with one that wasn't filling anyone's request. One that I wrote 100% because I wanted to and for no other reason.

I don't know if this is the start of a new era of fic writing/sharing for me or not, but for now, I hope you enjoy this short Shin Soukoku fic for what it is - a pure expression of my love for the characters, shipping, and fandom. The way it all began.

Thank you for being here, and for your continued support. <3

Word Count: 819

~~~

Atsushi was giggling up a storm and Akutagawa hadn’t even touched him yet.

“Wait,” the weretiger pleaded, covering his stomach with his hands as he gazed up at his boyfriend’s wicked smirk. “Wait, please!”

Akutagawa made a big show of cracking his knuckles before wiggling his fingers playfully, unable to help but chuckle a little himself when Atsushi squealed and burst into another round of giggles.

Moments before the two had been reading together on the couch, with Aku sitting like a normal person and Atsushi lying with his back where his butt should have been and vice versa, holding his book aloft. How he managed to do that was beyond the mafia member, but then Atsushi did have a lot of catlike qualities to him, so he supposed it just came with the territory.

Still, eventually Atsushi couldn’t keep his positioning any longer and he began to slide backward off the edge of the couch, saved from hitting his head on the hardwood floor by Rashomon’s quick reflexes. Akutagawa had every intention of helping him back up, but then he realized what an advantageous position this was and quickly thought the better of it.

Now he was straddling Atsushi’s hips, pinning his butt in place where it was supposed to be originally, watching with amusement as Atsushi’s flushed face beamed up at him from the floor, desperately trying to cover up his tummy as if that was going to save him at all.

“Move your hands,” Akutagawa ordered.

Atsushi whined. “No way!”

Without another word or warning or even a threat, Rashomon shot out from Aku’s coat and wrapped around his boyfriend’s arms, forcefully pulling his them above his head. Then the darker man’s wiggling fingers descended, and Atsushi began laughing in earnest.

“Ahahahahaha no! No fahahahahahair! Ahahahaku, plehehehehease!”

“What’s the matter? I thought cats liked having their bellies scratched.”

“Thihihihis isn’t scrahahahahatching! Thihihis is tihihihihickling – AHA NOHOHOOO!! Nohohohot thehehehehere! Plehehehehehease, Ryu!”

Akutagawa’s heart swelled at the rare use of his first name – and a nickname version of it at that. He tapped his chin in a mock-pondering way with one hand and dug the pointer finger of the other into Atsushi’s navel. “I wonder if it’s possible to tickle you so much your weretiger form comes out as a defense. Should we find out?”

Atsushi’s eyes flew wide open in elated panic, struggling against Rashomon’s hold while kicking his feet uselessly behind him. “If yohohohohou do thahahahahat I’ll fihihihihihind a wahahahahay to tickle you withohohohout your cohohohoat on!”

Akutagawa was not going to admit that the threat was enough to stop him in his tracks. “Very well. I’ll just tickle you a normal amount then, shall I?”

“Gahahahahaha please – Aku PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Atsushi threw his head back and cackled when his belly button and ribs were tickled at the same time by merciless, dexterous fingers that had no business knowing exactly where to press and dig to make him react this way. “Ehehehehehehe I cahahahahahan’t! It tihihihihickles so much – Akutagahahahahahawa!”

“Oh? What happened to Ryu?” Aku teased, moving both hands down – or up, depending on your perspective – to squeeze Atsushi’s hips playfully.

“RYU!! Ryu, plehehehehease, stohohohohohoooop! It tihihihihihickles!”

Akutagawa had to admit, he loved making Atsushi laugh like this. He went back to his tummy, scribbling wildly over it and enjoying the desperate scream it pulled from his boyfriend. “It tickles, hmm?”

“Yehehehehehehehes!”

“Why?”

“What – whahahahahat do you mehehehehean why?!” Atsushi cried, arms trembling in Rashomon’s hold.

“Why does it tickle so much, weretiger?”

Atsushi’s cheeks flared bright red as he realized what Akutagawa wanted him to say, and he groaned as he replied, “Behehehehecause I’m tihihihihihicklish!”

Akutagawa couldn’t help it. He dug in even harder, slipping a finger back into his navel. “How ticklish?”

“AIEEE!! AHAHAHAHAHA VEHEHEHEHEHERY!! I’M REHEHEHEHEALLY TICKLISH, RYUUUUUU!!”

At this point Atsushi was laughing so hard tears were springing to his eyes, so Akutagawa decided to have mercy for now and let up, awkwardly leaning down and bracing himself on his elbows above Atsushi as he caught his breath, loving his pink blush and bright eyes, his wobbly smile.

“Very ticklish?” he murmured.

Atsushi shuddered. “Y-Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Akutagawa pressed their lips together, only aware that he’d retracted Rashomon after Atsushi wrapped his arms around his back and pulled them both off the couch so they were cuddling on the floor.

Atsushi murmured something under his breath. Akutagawa pulled back and asked him to say it again, having missed it the first time, smirking at the darkening blush on his boyfriend’s face.

“I said, I…I like it when you tickle me,” the weretiger admitted softly, burying his face into the crook of Aku’s neck.

“Yeah?” Akutagawa murmured, barely able to focus now that Atsushi was beginning to press soft, chaste kisses along his skin. He shivered, pulled him in closer, and said, “Then I guess I’ll have to start doing it more often, won’t I?”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #bungo stray dogs #bsd #atsushi nakajima #akutagawa ryuunosuke #shin soukoku #sskk #playful #teasing #boyfriends #cute #stuck tickles #fluff #tickling #ticklish #tickle #it's been so long i forgot how i used to tag stuff #had to use another bsd fic as a reference lol

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cozage · 10 months

Text

The Daughter's Return: Part 7

The Infiltration Plan

Part 1 | Part 8 | Table of Contents | Read this on A03

Characters: female reader x Ace Word Count: 4.1k CW: None i can think of

“Hey,” Marco’s soft voice woke you from your sleep, and you groaned as you flipped away from him. Of course Marco had woken you up. Your dreams had been too good to you. Now that you were awake, your head was pounding.

Marco shook you lightly. “I think Whitey is about to head out.”

That got your attention. You sat up, awake and alert. You quickly jumped off the mattress and ran out the door without another word to him. You had to find Whitey, you had to say goodbye one more time before she was gone.

You dashed out onto the deck, wildly darting your head from left to right. There were so many people awake at this early hour, it was hard to look past the people directly in front of you. You had forgotten what island days were like; everyone was desperate to get off the ship in search of new treasures and new company.

You finally found Brew, and ran over to him. In your time planning for Whitey’s departure, you had forgotten that your other two close friends were leaving as well.

“Brew!” you called out as you approached him.

Brew held out his arms, waiting for you. He wrapped you in a strong hug, and you let yourself sink into his big strong arms.

“Hey! I was afraid I wasn’t going to see you before we left!” Brew squeezed you extra tight, and you had to tap on his arm to remind him to let you breathe.

He finally released you, and you pulled away from him. “I’m going to miss you so…” his bewildered stare made you stop. “What?”

“Girl,” Sally interjected. “Your neck is covered in bruises.”

“Hickeys,” Brew corrected.

It took you a few moments to process their words. And then the night came flooding back to you. The dreams you had last night hadn’t been exclusively dreams. You and Ace had made out, and probably would’ve gone further, if you hadn’t been interrupted.

“Can we not talk about that right now?!” you squeaked, pulling the neck of your shirt up to cover the bruises.

“Oh my god you slept with him, didn’t you?!” Brew shouted. You could see a few people pause and glance over at the three of you, and you shot daggers.

“Brew!” you hissed. “Keep it down!”

“Who slept with who?” Epoida asked, suddenly appearing behind Sally. When her eyes landed on you and your stance, she gasped. “No way.”

“I didn’t sleep with anybody,” you said.

“No. Way!” Epoida was getting louder as you were frantically shushing her.

“Show me!” Epoida screamed. “Show me right now!”

“Epoida! Keep it down!” you hissed, looking around. There weren’t many familiar faces on the deck at the moment, but you didn’t want to risk it.

“Let me see, then!” Epoida threatened. “Or I’ll make a scene.”

“Fine!” you pulled your shirt collar back now, revealing your neck. You weren’t sure what it looked like, but Epoida gasped, her eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” Epoida breathed. “Who did that?”

“Ace. Obviously,” Sally said, watching your reaction closely. You did your best not to respond, but the smirk on her face made you think you weren’t succeeding much.

“She was making out with that one guy though,” Epoida pointed out to the group. “Ozzo?”

“Uzzo,” you corrected.

“Aha!” Epoida shouted. “We have our culprit!”

“What?!” you demanded, extremely confused about how a simple correction of a name meant anything.

“Was he good in bed at least?” Epoida asked.

“We didn’t make it to bed!” you hissed. Everyone’s eyes exchanged sly looks, and you groaned at their responses. “Wait, I didn’t even-what is happening?!”

Epoida, Brew, and Sally all busted into laughter, and you found yourself smiling along with them.

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you said, going in for a group hug. They all wrapped you in an embrace, and you did your best to hold in your tears.

“We’ll see each other again real soon,” Brew promised. You all finally broke from your hug, and you gave him a tearful nod.

“Now go find Whitey,” Epoida said. “She’s a mess.”

It didn’t take you long to find her. She was standing at the center of the deck, bossing people around. You stood and watched her, realizing she really was going to make a good captain. You couldn’t wait to see the reports of the things she would accomplish.

“Oh!” Whitey cried, seeing you. She handed off her checklist to another crewmate and rushed towards you. She stopped a few feet, looking at your bruises.

“Oh?” Whitey’s fingers brushed over your neck as she examined the marks littered across it.

“Please don’t ask,” you groaned, rubbing at them in hopes it would go away.

“Don’t need to.” Whitey grabbed your wrist and led you off to the girl’s bath house. “Let’s get you fixed up one more time.”

You did your best not to cry at that statement. Whitey always helped you look presentable. She had always helped you pick out outfits, pour drinks, and find new guys to flirt with. You hated being away from her for two years, and you hadn’t expected your reunion to end so suddenly. It truly was bittersweet to think about.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror as you walked in. It hadn’t felt like it in the moment, but Ace had been rough on your skin. You ran your hand across your neck, goosebumps forming from remembering the passion that had lit inside the two of you the previous night. At that time, you hadn’t cared who would see you. But now, you wanted nothing more than to cover it up.

You hopped onto the sink counter as Whitey pulled out her makeup bag, searching for the right shade of concealer and foundation. You sat in silence, watching her find the perfect match for your skin.

“Aha!” she cried, holding it against the light. “Okay, look up.”

You did as you were instructed, and she dabbed concealer onto the most obvious parts and began blending it in.

“What am I going to do without you?” you said, trying to keep the sadness out of your voice.

“You’ll manage,” Whitey said. “You always do.”

It was silent for a while, both of you just enjoying the other’s company. A few other females came and went during the process, everyone looking exhausted from last night’s party. Whenever someone came in, Whitey smoothly switched to applying makeup to your face so you wouldn’t get too many odd looks. You exchanged friendly conversation while they were in, but nobody stuck around too long to chat.

When you were alone again, she switched to the foundation and continued blending the colors to erase the hickies that were blotted across your neck.

“Ace apologized to me last night.”

“For what?” you asked. You had tried not to sound too interested, but Whitey smiled at your interest.

“Said he knew how it felt to be me now and wanted to apologize for being a real dick through the whole thing.”

“I see,” you said cautiously. Your breath was caught in your throat, unsure what else to say.

Whitey gave you a mischievous smile. “Wonder who he meant.”

“Dunno,” you choked out. It was all you could do to pretend you weren’t affected by her words.

“He shouldn’t have apologized though. Looking back on it. I was the real asshole.” Whitey went back to dabbing at your neck. “Did you know I tried to get him demoted for sleeping with subordinates? Went to Pops and everything.”

“What?” Ace definitely hadn’t told you that part of the story.

Whitey nodded, her cheeks beginning to pink with embarrassment. “I was awful. In my mind, he made my life hell, so I had to ruin his too. Tensions were really high for a few months. It was all so childish, looking back on it now.”

“And you forgave him because of an apology at a goodbye party?” you asked, looking at her. “Last week you were so upset at the mention of his name.”

Whitey scowled at your sudden movement. “Look up-” You obeyed her, and she continued her work. “Anyway, we had a good heart-to-heart last night. We both did bad things. But maybe he’s not so bad now.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Well alright then.”

“All done,” Whitey said as she capped her foundation. She held the concealer and foundation out to you. “For next time.”

“Whitey-”

“I’m not going to use it. I kept it around for you, so take it.”

Your eyes welled with tears, and you wrapped her in a tight hug. “I love you so much, Whitey. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Hey now.” Whitey’s voice was gentle and soft as she spoke. “I’m still going to be here. Just a transponder call away, okay? Now stop smothering me, you’re going to wipe off all my hard work.”

You finally released her, and the two of you walked up to the deck together.

“Time to go?” you asked.

“You’ll have to come see the ship sometime, okay?”

You nodded, wiping another stray tear from your eye. Whitey gave you one last nice, long squeeze.

“Be careful with that boy, okay? He may act carefree and wild, but behind that wall, he’s got a sensitive soul.”

You nodded a quiet acknowledgment of her words and pulled away from her. “Take care of yourself, Whitey. Call me when you make it to Fishman.”

“I’m calling you before I make it Fishman!”

“Deal.”

“Oh!” Whitey cried. She dug around in her pocket and pulled out a paper. Then she ripped off a piece and handed it off to you. “Now you’ll never lose me.”

You clutched her vivre card tightly to your chest and did your best to smile through the tears. “Bye, Whitey.”

As you watched her leave, you remembered your own departure, two years ago. You wondered if this was how Whitey felt then, when you had gone off on your own journey without her. Had she been this sad? Had she wondered who she would eat meals with, or who she would get ready for parties with? You never even thought to ask her. Now it was too late.

“Hey.” Your commander’s cool voice broke through your thoughts, and you jumped slightly at how close he was.

“Ace.” Your smile grew when you realized it was him.

“Can we talk about last night?” he asked.

“Yes!” You giggled lightly. “I mean honestly, Ace, if you had just-”

“Last night was just a casual kiss for you, right?” he interrupted. His voice was calm, with a slight touch of panic in it.

You stopped mid-sentence and stared at him. You felt a pit forming in your stomach, but you pushed it away.

“What?” you asked. He was looking out on the island, ignoring your sharp gaze.

“Was that kiss just some drunken makeout session for you?”

You wanted to be honest. You wanted to tell him that his lips had shaken your world, causing tidal waves to engulf your heart. You wanted to tell him that you dreamt of him and what could’ve been if Marco hadn’t found the two of you.

“Yeah, totally.” You gave a nervous laugh. “That’s what it was for you too, right?”

Ace let out a sigh of relief. “Good. It was just some drunken kiss with no meaning. It was just to make up for-”

“Embarrassing me in front of all our friends and colleagues?” you finished, raising your eyebrow at him.

Ace finally looked at you and offered a nervous smile. “Right. That. I’m still sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” you said. Now that you had his attention, you gave him a playful wink. “You know how to make it up to me now.”

Ace quickly looked away from you, and you giggled at the blush forming on his cheeks. Cat and mouse. Chasing each other around and around. He had told you it was his favorite game, and you were beginning to see why.

Whitey must’ve misinterpreted whatever Ace had said to her last night. It was clear that Ace was still the same Ace you had heard so much about. The one who had a reputation for being a ship-wide flirt. It was the reason Marco had pulled you away, you knew that now. He didn’t want you heartbroken and alone.

But that was fine. You could keep your tiny crush on Portgas D. Ace tucked away, and it would fizzle into nothing after a while. If Ace wanted a simple fling, you were more than okay with that. You would take whatever you could get.

“You’re up early,” Marco commented, looking at Ace. “I was banging on your door for 10 minutes.”

“Just wanted to see the captains off,” Ace said, his stiff and awkward tenseness returning. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t care. Emergency meeting for division leaders and strategists,” Marco said, looking at you. “We need to go now.”

You and Ace were some of the first people to arrive, which was definitely a change for the second division. After a few minutes, only about half of the leaders and strategists were there, but Namur spoke up.

“I’m assuming the rest of the commanders are working on the departure ships, Pops.”

“Yes,” your father hummed. “Let’s get started.”

“Of course,” Namur said. “There's been an issue with our intel. My men have heard that the Navy is planning to adjust their schematics for Port Logel, but those schematics are being kept under heavy guard. Our only chance to access them is tonight.”

You had been so busy planning a party and saying goodbye to your friends, you had forgotten about your work. There was a mission in a few days. One that you were in charge of the strategy for.

“So what’s the problem?” you asked. “We’ll still be on the island tonight, right?”

“The problem,” Namur said irritably. “Is that the plans are heavily guarded. Division Eight does recon, not infiltration.”

“So we get another division to go,” you offered.

“It’s not that simple,” Thatch said. “We have very few people who can successfully operate any kind of infiltration mission. But this level is another ballgame.”

Everyone looked at you, waiting for you to take the bait.

“Fine!” you huffed. “What’s the infiltration mission?”

Namur looked around the table. “The plans are only accessible tonight, at the Almus Shores Navy-Maritime Ball.”

You raised your eyebrows. “A ball?”

Namur nodded. “Sengoku will be making an appearance, as well as several high-ranking admirals. Which means half of this table can’t attend. They know our faces too well.”

You scoffed. “That’s highly unlikely.”

“Are you willing to risk them recognizing Marco? What about Curiel or Fossa?” Atmos asked. “There's so few of us that would even fit in at a formal occasion. It’s not worth the risk.”

You looked around and realized Atmos was right. Almost everyone at the table had a bounty of at least half a million berries. They would be well known by the Navy. And most of them didn’t exactly…blend in.

“We need those schematics,” Namur said. “There has to be someone we trust that can go.”

“I’ll go,” you said, looking around. “The Navy still thinks I’m dead, right? I heard that rumor while I was in Wano.”

Ace shot you a look. “Wait, you were in Wano?” he muttered. He said the place as if he had an attachment to it.

You were about to respond when Whitebeard cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he said. “I should remind you that your two-year gap is not public knowledge.”

You gave a nervous smile. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ll go too,” Ace offered. “My bounty is only 120,000 berries, and the Navy hasn’t discovered that I’m the second division commander yet.”

Whitebeard frowned. “I’m nervous about you going, Ace. Truthfully, you could be the easiest one to give us away.”

“I’ll clean up!” Ace said desperately.

Your father chuckled. “I’m not sure if that will do it.”

“So let’s bleach his hair and clean him up,” you offered. “We need a B-Team though. Just in case we get caught.”

“We won’t get caught,” Ace said, his words teetering on the edge of cockiness.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “But we should still have a Team B.”

“Mihal and Kala,” Ace said confidently. “They can keep a low profile.”

You didn’t recognize their names. “Are they a part of the second division?”

Ace nodded. “They were a part of my crew before we joined Pops. We can trust them.”

You nodded. “The four of us should be enough. We’ll go in as pairs. If Ace and I fail, we’ll change tactics to create a diversion while Mihal and Kala grab the intel.”

“Very well,” your father said. “Thatch, go inform Mahal and Kala of their assignment. Y/N, go get fitted for a dress. Ace, I need to speak with you.”

Ace looked nervous, but he hung back while everyone was dismissed. You shot him a thumbs up before Marco shoved you out of the room.

“You’re only making it worse,” Marco muttered. “Let’s go.”

“Making what worse?” you asked, shooting a glance back at the meeting room Ace was now alone in.

“There’s a policy,” Marco said. “With Commanders and Strategists. You should know this.”

“Know what?” You were starting to get irritated by the secrecy.

“A disclosure policy,” Marco hissed. “With Pops himself.”

Your heart dropped. “Marco. What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t see shit, so I didn’t say shit,” Marco muttered. “But someone did. Ace can sleep with whoever he wants unless it's another commander or strategist. Then he has to tell Pops about it.”

“But we didn’t do anything,” you argued.

Marco stopped in his tracks and laughed at you. It was clear he thought you were lying. “Really?”

His sureness made you second guess yourself. You ran over the past few weeks in your head. “Besides last night, no.”

Marco’s eye twitched. “And the night you stayed in his room? What were you doing then? Just cuddling?” His voice was thick with sarcasm.

“Well…yeah.”

“Bullshit,” Marco laughed. “Don’t lie to me. You know how pissed off that makes me.”

“Marco, I’m not lying! I swear!”

His eyes narrowed at your words and the desperation in your voice, and he examined your face for a long while.

“Don’t believe me if you don’t want to,” you spat. Your skin was starting to sizzle with your emotions. “I’m going to find a dress.”

“Don’t burn them!” Marco yelled after you, and you slammed the door to the fitting room in response.

You had wished Whitey were here. You all always got dressed up together. Now you tried on dresses alone and walked out to show Marco, who you were still partially angry at.

Most of them hadn't even been worth showing. A pink dress that was too pale, a mint green gown that made you look too boxy, a purple dress that was covered in hideous rhinestones. Whitey would’ve been able to find the perfect dress for you in one or two rounds. She knew what flattered you better than anyone.

You were about to give up and just pick one at random when a royal blue gown caught your eye. You would have to wear a corset, but the bottom was loose enough for you to run in it if things got bad. It was satin, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it getting caught on anything if you needed to make an escape through the woods. The only bad thing about it was the few gemstones scattered across the top. It would be easy to see if you weren’t hiding properly. Nevertheless, it seemed like the best option, so you slipped it on and spun around a few times in the mirror.

You felt like royalty in it. You put on white gloves and emerged from your dressing room to get Marco’s opinion.

“Practical and gorgeous,” Marco complimented. “Well done. I’m glad at least one of you gets it.”

You looked at him confused. “One of us..?”

Ace emerged from the other dressing room with a Navy Captain’s outfit on. Your heartbeat quickened at his arrival in his new outfit. You were slightly disappointed that he was wearing a shirt, but he looked good in his Navy outfit.

“I want to be an admiral!” Ace argued. He was pulling at the collar, clearly uncomfortable in his attire.

Marco smacked him upside the head. “Admirals are too well known, idiot! Captain is the best way to blend in.”

“But Captains are lame!” Ace whined.

“This isn’t about being cool!”

“The Navy suits you, Ace.” Your eyes scanned his body. “You should consider a career change.”

Ace seemed to only now realize that you were in the room, and his mouth dropped open as he looked at you.

He stared at you for a long time, and you started to feel self-conscious about your dress decision. Perhaps you had been too confident in your appearance.

Marco finally nudged his fellow commander, and Ace blinked a few times as he came back to reality.

“You look…” Words seemed to fail him. “Great. Amazing. Beautiful.”

You blushed at his words. “Thanks.”

Marco rolled his eyes and blocked the two of you from staring at each other any longer. “I’ll pick out jewelry for you and dye Ace’s hair. You need to go talk to Pops.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Pops?”

Ace’s eyes darted down and stayed glued to the floor, and Marco nodded.

“Keep Ace’s dye a soft blonde,” you commented, trying your best to act natural as you turned to go change. “Don’t dye his hair an ugly yellow like yours.”

“Don’t lie!” Marco called after you. You didn’t acknowledge him. You just kept walking, trying to keep your breathing even.

You changed out of your dress and back into your regular clothes and walked the long journey to your father’s office. As you stood outside the door, you realized how small you were. You really weren’t much different than when you had been three years old, running around the ship and struggling to reach the door knocker on this massive door.

“Come in,” your father called. You reached out for the handle. With a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped inside.

“You wanted to see me?” you asked, looking at him.

“How do you feel about the mission tonight?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s rushed. I haven’t had much time to prepare anything, but I believe me and Ace are both excellent at thinking on our feet. We’ll find the opportunity to look at the schematics.”

Your father hummed, thinking about your words. “You and Ace…do you have anything to tell me about that?”

“Are you asking as my captain or my father?”

A vein popped out on your father’s head, but his voice remained even. “They are one and the same on this ship. For everyone. Let me remind you: you do not have special privileges because of your birthright.”

You wondered if his words were supposed to be offensive. You felt no malice behind them, so you let it go.

You chose your next question carefully. You weren’t about to tell him everything if it wasn’t needed. “Is there anything I’m obligated to tell you as a strategist?”

“Not as a strategist,” Whitebeard pulled out a paper. “But your division commander does have to report sexual or romantic relationships and any overnight stays with any commanders or strategists.”

So technically you wouldn’t have to report anything, which was a relief to know. Only Ace would, which made it a bit more uncomfortable standing in front of your father knowing that. Ace wasn’t a liar, he would’ve told your father anything he needed to know.

You chose your next words carefully. “Then you know that while me and Ace may have had a small intimate moment, it ultimately means nothing. I can still strategize logically and effectively with him by my side.”

Whitebeard hummed, processing your words. “And you’re sure you can strategize without biases if something were to happen?”

“Of course I can. Are you doubting my capabilities?”

He snorted. “No need to be a little shit about it. Go get ready, you’re dismissed.”

You tried not to let the conversation get to you, but as you walked down the hallway to the bathhouse, it was more and more unnerving. Had Ace said something to your father to make him doubt you? Was he anticipating you screwing up this mission because of Ace?

You had to push that all from your mind now and focus on forming a solid strategy. You could ask Ace about it all later. You had a ball to crash.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 (if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #cozage #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x y/n #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #✧˚ace✧˚

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soliloquent-stark · 3 months

Note

Have you read meidui's fics?

hey, anon! no, i never heard of meidui before... are they new?

sike, aha, got you so good!! (lmao what am i doing)

okay, serious business now; of course i have! i love cassie to bits and she's a huge inspiration and a big reason why i started writing my own stevetony fics so, yeah, you can say i read her fics :)

it's basically impossible to make a rec list because i genuinely love it all so i am trying to limit myself to five fics (with the important note to please browse the entire @meidui collection if you lived under a rock somehow you haven't come across her stuff before. she loves steve more than anyone i know—and pens him SO WELL—and she's actually written several ships and dynamics involving him. fun stuff!)

seven years in heaven — i chose this one because it's poignant and unique, i think of it at least once a week, and it's engraved in my brain forever

my pain fits in the palm of your hand — this fic means everything to me!! stevetony are so genuine and raw and so beautifully pained. it's all i ever wanted

this love came back to me — i believe i rec this one everywhere but i love post-endgame stevetony so what am i supposed to do?

once in a lifetime — this one deserves a shout-out cause it's so creative and wonderful and gaahhhh

absolute tony — this is short but packs such a punch and deserves more hits!!

#simpy fangirl liv coming out 🫣#it's okay mei knows of my love already 🫶🏻#stevetony #fic rec

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rachi-roo · 8 months

Note

i have loved reading all of your fics! could you do one that is lee!bakugo and ler!todoroki? hope you are doing well!!

--------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }-------------

My Hero Academia: Cooking up trouble!

Weeeee! Finally, another fic is out! I really appreciate all the support you've given me recently, and thank you, anon, for this request! These two are such a mismatched pair. Their dynamic is so fun! XD

Summary: After Shotos' attempt at potato chopping goes wrong, he's forced to deal with an angry Chef Bakugo his own special way.

Characters: Ler!Shoto, Lee!Bakugo, mentions of other 1A students.

Tw: Swearing

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"Damn it, Icey-Hot! How are you so bad at this!?" A certain explosive blonde snarled as he looked at the miss-shapen potatoes that Todoroki had been peeling for the classes dinner.

The bowl of oddly cut spuds made Bakugo want to cry or hurt someone. Or both. They were supposed to be sliced into thin circles to make chips. Instead, they were odd bolder shapes. He angrily moved Todoroki away from the counter, taking the knife from his hand.

"What's wrong with them?" The raspberry ripple hero asked, tilting his head as he was placed by the door.

"What's wrong with you!? These potatoes are less straight than Deku!"

"Heeeey!" Dekus little voice grumbled from the lounge.

"SHUT IT! Anyway, they won't cook properly if they aren't thin enough. And they're cook unevenly too. Uuugh... Now I gotta get a new bag of them and do it myself and-" Bakugo grumbled on, swearing and fussing under his breath as he stomped around the kitchen, finding an unopened pack of fresh potatoes.

Shoto blinked as he watched Bakugo angrily start cutting up their dinner with his back to him. His flighty little mind thinking over the situation. Angry Bakugo is never nice to deal with. Maybe there's a way he could cheer him up?

Maybe that would work? It always helped brighten Dekus mood.

He smiled, approaching Bakugo quietly as he continued to grumble.

"I'm stuffing you in a box and shipping you all the way to the UK so Ramsey can train you u-HUP!" Bakugo jolted, arching his back away from a sudden tickly sensation. He turned quickly, glaring at Shoto, who stood with two, pokey index fingers, poised and ready.

"What are you doing?" Bakugo asked, setting the knife on the counter. Maybe the airhead just wanted some attention?

"I'm making you happy again. Or the food will taste bad." Shoto said plainly, his expression soft. Still pretty vacant as usual, but with a hint of a smile.

"The food will taste bad if I'm not happy?"

"Yes."

"First of all, my food always tastes awesome. And second of all, I don'tneed to be made happy. I'm fine."

".... You're lying."

"I am not! You just- hey, HEY! Back off!" Bakugo stammered as Todoroki casually reached for Bakugos sides, squeezing ever so lightly.

The light touch already had Bakugo biting back a smile as he tried to lean away from Shotos teasing fingers. His back met the counter, unable to shimmy any further. Shoto used that opportunity to attack!

"Got you." He smiled, suddenly shifting his hands up to Bakugos' worst spot. Below the underarms above the ribs. When it comes to Bakugo, you have to strike hard and fast, or face the consequences!

"GYAHA! N-No! I-Icehey-hyAHAAAA!" The blonde crumbled, his arms immediately clamping to his sides as he leaned against the counter, sliding down the surface and plopping onto the kitchen tiles with Shotos tickling fingers following.

"GEHEet offa meeeEHEHE! AHA! SHIHIT!"

"I do this to Midoria when he's sad too. It seems to have the same effect on you. I'm glad."

Shoto hummed, using very little effort to make Bakugo squirm under his touch. It was just so easy!

He drummed his fingers up and down Bakugos sides, causing the boy to curl in on himself, trapped between Shoto and the kitchen counter.

"Damn ihit! StAAHA! I-I'm n-nAHA! NOT SAD!" Bakugo howled as he made helpless attempts at grabbing Shotos hands. Nothing worked! Every time he thought he had a wrist gripped, Shoto managed to just slip out and tickle him again

"StahaAHAHAP! Y-You- I-IhIHI'M not making you DINNER!"

Shotos hands stilled. What? No dinner? But, Bakugo always helps with dinner! This won't do. No. Not at all!

"No dinner?... Well. What if I keep tickling you until you agree to cook?" Bakugo shot him a glare. How dare he threaten him like that!

"You wouldn't..." A silence fell between the two, staring at each other, a smirk growing on Shotos face.

"Hey... Icey-hot... OI! Don't just stare like that! I'll kiHIHIII! AHAHA! STAHAHAP! Fuhuck!"

"You know very well the rest of us can't cook. You're our only hope." Todoroki deadpanned as he spidered over Bakugos tummy, switching between different tickle spots to keep him overwhelmed and unable to escape.

The fact that Shoto was so calm and expressionless made the situation ten times worse for Bakugo. He couldn't read the situation properly. It was awful! Not that Bakugo could really see much with his eyes scrunched shut, forcing tears of mirth down his cheeks.

He wasn't giving up though!

"I-I'll nEHE-! NEVER! Never CAHAHA! CooHOHOOK! AGAHAHAIN! GahaHYAHA!"

Shoto smirked briefly, deciding to take things up a notch. He stuffed his hands up Bakugos shirt, using his Quirk to make one set of fingers warm, and the others awfully cold. A cruel and conflicting method.

A shriek left Bakugos' mouth as he felt the icey cold didgets pressed against his bare ribs, sending a shock wave up his spine.

"FFFAHAHACK! Noho! NahahaAHAAA!" He flailed, arching his back as he twisted and turned this way and that to try avoid the relentless, freezing, fingers!

Every time he leaned from the icey coldness, he was reminded that the warm hand was still there, attacking his worst spot whilst the cold fingers switched to another when he was distracted. There was no escape. Maybe he'd have to surrender?

"SHIHIT! N-NooOOHO! Ah! HAHA! IHICEY- SHIII-!" The blonde's laughter fell silent as Shoto latched onto his worst spot again, upper ribs, below armpits. He was going to make sure Bakugo never threatened to leave them hungry again!

"Hmm, Midoria also reacts when I say tickle. Does it affect you, too? Tickle, tickle." Shoto smiled, repeating the word in his near monotone voice, making poor Bakugis face light up like a Christmas tree! A pretty crimson red.

"S-ShuHUT- AAAAHHHH-!.... UWAH! F-FuhuHAHAK!" Again, his laughter went quiet before he gasped for air. His head threw back, mouth agape as the endless stream of laughter flooded forth.

"Is someone dying in here?"

All the commotion had gained the attention of the rest of class 1-A. A curious Sero peered around the island counter, spotting Bakugos flailing legs sticking out from behind. One of his slippers had been thrown as he kicked and squirmed.

The rest of the class stood in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear at the sight.

"I think he's had enough, Roki." Sero continued, chuckling as he watched Bakugo make another desperate attempt at grabbing his attackers hands.

Shoto stilled his hands, giving Bakugo the chance to finally catch his breath, as he looked up at Sero innocently.

"Bakugo said he wouldn't make us dinner." He explained. Missing out the part where it was partly his own fault.

"Ooooh..." Sero nodded in understanding. He looked at the dishevelled Bakugo on the floor tiles, smirking as he made an attempt at glaring. It wasn't very convincing through that veil of happy tears and rosy cheeks.

"Well," the tape weirder shrugged. "We can't have that now, can we?" He shot Bakugo a cheeky smirk. "As you were, Roki. Call if you need any assistance." He chuckled.

"W-Wait! Hey! Soy sauce face! That's not your decision to mAHAHAKE! NAAAHAHAAA-!"

"Let us know when dinners ready, kay?" Sero called back with a wave as he left with the rest of the class. Condemning Bakugo to his tickly doom!

Shoto looked at Bakugo, casually continuing to tickle him all over.

"I want Soba."

"S-Stuff your damn SOHOBA! DAHAHAHMN IT!"

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Thank you for reading~ ✨️

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #shoto torodoki #katsuki bakugou #todoroki shouto #lee!bakugou #ler!todoroki #sfw tickles #fic requests #rachi roo

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authorchia · 3 months

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⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚ 𝚂𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚢. ⋆｡𖦹 °

𝚅𝚊𝚗 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗

AHA! I knew I would make a dedicated post for my personal r1999 crack ship! If you see this post you're in for a ride because I will make you interested in this ship~

As you may know from the title, I ship Shamane x Eternity, or I also like to call it SeaGoat/Capricorn. I already have a few reasons and headcanons for this couple, so heads up! Long post incoming below!

💙 Ship name origin

It was a usual day in the r1999 discord server, and at that time they were talking about ships and stuff. I playfully asked if there's a good name for my ShamaNity ship. Then I got a revelation that I can call them SeaGoat because of Shamane's udimo and Eternity's sea/ocean theme! And one of the members said "...Capricorn". At first I was confused so I googled it AND I FOUND OUT CAPRICORN IS A SEA GOAT! "THIS IS GENIUS" I said, so that's how I adopt the ship name! Though I know it doesn't really fit with one of Eternity's voiceline. But if I name it OceanGoat... it's- uh- you get the point.

💙 Their dynamics

Good lord, they give off so many dynamics... But looking at their voicelines and in-game lore:

1. I can pretty much tell they're both yappers (in a good way). Eternity talks about mostly about seafood and about her experience as an immortal, while Shamane talks all about his journey being a shaman and some giving food to us (Vertin). I can see them talk back and forth about their experiences from their respective lives. They could know how each sees the world through the eyes of a mortal and an immortal. I like to think the suitcase feels lively as the both of them always talk to each other, no matter the time or circumstances (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

2. THEY'RE BOTH OLD. In the current global roster, Shamane is the oldest of all the male characters (being 45 y/o) while Eternity is the oldest of all the female characters (being over a century old because she's a vampire). They definitely act like an old married couple. They'll be the suitcase crew's parents like isn't that just the sweetest thing?

3. Their Ultimate animation Just look at these!!!

Shamane represents the sky while Eternity represents the sea/ocean, and it really tickles my neurons thinking about it. NOT TO MENTION Shamane's ultimate also has what it looks like some sort of lake? The point is that they both have something to do with water on it!

4. They both can fill their loneliness This more just me doing some headcanon, but from Eternity's voicelines, I can tell she's pretty lonely. Being an immortal has its advantages but also comes with a price. I haven't seen Shamane's full backstory, but judging from the trailer, he definitely went through a lot on his journey to become a shaman. As the two gets closer, Eternity would find him amusing yet inspiring for he's still alive after going through so much as a mortal and Shamane would find her intriguing and would be curious about the immortal's life. They slowly find solace with each other, the shaman receiving simple yet genuine love and care while the vampire gets to have someone who can have fun and relax together. Though Eternity knows they won't last forever, for Shamane's life is nothing but temporary in her eyes. She will be lonely in the end, like she always have, but at least she got to experience something new...

💙 Last words

Aaaaaand that's the end of why I ship them! If you made it this far, WOW! You certainly are a reader, my friend! Have a cookie for compensation~ 🍪

#reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 headcanons #r1999 #r1999 shamane #r1999 eternity #shamanity #ship post

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totisviribus · 1 year

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An ADHD Morning

I set seven alarms so I don't oversleep. I couldn't sleep last night because I was researching ancient Rome on Wikipedia until 2am so I am bleary tired. My coffee maker is moldy from last week's brew and I don't even consider cleaning it, I just know that I won't be having coffee this morning.

I forgot to shower the night before, but now I don't have enough time to do it this morning, I got up too late. I use dry shampoo and hope my hair doesn't look greasy (it does). I scrape it into a messy pony tail that will give me a migraine but it's the only way it looks acceptable. My finger nails are stumps of dried blood because I picked at them all night. The inside of my lip is swollen and bleeding because I couldn't stop chewing on it, thinking about how I could ruin today. My eyebrows need to be plucked. My face is covered in acne because I never remember to take my makeup off before I fall asleep.

My bedroom is a sea of clothes, piled high to obscure the wooden floors. One hamper has some clean clothes in it, I know, but I have forgotten which one. My ironing board is under the piles somewhere, but it's broken, so I'll have to try to use the anti-wrinkle spray on the sweater I fish off the floor and hope it looks okay. It's already been forty minutes, how has the time passed this way? I will be late now, no hope of arriving on time. My sweater is covered in cat hair. Where is the lint roller? I look through the piles and can't find it. I spend ten minutes looking for tape to make a make-shift lint roller and it doesn't really work.

My dresser is filled with empty makeup tubes, used makeup wipes, glasses wipes, and used lint roller sheets. I pick out the products I use and quickly do my makeup on my unclean skin.

Purse. I need my purse. Which purse did I use last? Which has my wallet in it? I walk past the piles on the floor of my apartment, past the dirty dishes, past the mound of art supplies on my desk. I find my purse on the floor under my desk. Okay.

Socks? I need socks. My socks might show when I sit down in these too-tight too-short pants. I have to find matching ones. Clean ones? No, that's too much of a reach. I must just find matching ones. I search, digging through the floor piles. I find two that do not match, but are the same color. Good enough.

Fifteen minutes late. My cat chirps as he brushes against my leg. Oh! My little friend! He's so cute and sweet. My sister loves to get pictures of him, so I'll take one for her. Look up here, Blue! So cute. I should really update the instagram I made for him, I've met so many people who have the same type of cat. I should edit some photos of him today to post. He makes me so happy. I feel so lucky I get to have a cat and such a sweet, loving one like Blue. How many people get to have such a great pet? I'm so thankful for him, and I tell him so while I scratch his face the way that makes him purr.

I text my sister the picture. She tells me to have a good day. I try to find a cute GIF to send her to tell her to have a good day too. Here's one with Snoopy. She'll like that.

I also need to feed Blue. There are a dozen empty, smelly cans on the counter of cat food, but I pick a new one out of the box they were shipped in and put it in his dish with a random measuring spoon because all my other silverware is dirty.

Bag. I need to pack a bag. Laptop, keys, tissues, pens, notebook, headphones, charging cable for my phone. Is that everything? And my wallet, of course! Aha. That would be bad if I forgot that.

My shoes are dirty and scuffed but I don't have time to fix them. What kind of coat? I don't check the weather. I pick out a thin yellow one that I like. I've always liked bright colors. This will cheer me up to wear it. Bag, coat, keys, phone...where is my phone?

I have headphones on, listening to a YouTube video on two times speed, but I don't know where my phone is. I don't have time for this! But I can't leave without my phone.

It's deep in the covers of my bed. I don't remember putting it there between sending the GIF to my sister and now, but no matter. I found it.

It's twenty degrees and raining. I have no umbrella and my spring coat is incredibly inappropriate for the weather.

I've left my car on the street for a few days in an area that is only for 3-hour parking. The parking tickets are stacked on the windshield. I owe the city about $400 in parking tickets and I keep getting letters from the police that they'll boot my car if I don't pay. I messed up the days on my budget spreadsheet, so I won't be able to pay them for another month.

I have no gas. I check the miles my car estimates I can go with the amount left and compare it to what my GPS says. Just enough. Maybe. It'll be okay. I can't get gas now.

I forgot to brush my teeth. I forgot my laptop charging cable. I forgot to take my medication, and I forgot to bring my medication with me to take my second dose. When I finally arrive at my destination, I don't remember that my debit card fell between the seat in my car yesterday while getting coffee at the drive-thru. So I leave without it. I also forgot to put deodorant on.

I wonder what my coworkers would think of me if they knew about my messy apartment, my poor hygiene, my lack of planning skills. Will they notice my teeth aren't brushed? Do I have any gum, mints, anything?

My coworker sees me come in late with in an oddly-fitting outfit and messy hair, but I greet them happily when I come in. They say that everyone forgets things sometimes and lends me their laptop charger. I'll forget to return it, but they don't know that yet. They don't know about my kitchen or my bedroom or my clothes or my unwashed face or my parking tickets. They don't know that without my medication I will be useless for the entire day and get nothing done, making more work for them.

I'm an excellent actress. I pretend to be like everyone else, and somehow I pass the test every time. I'm a shy, kind, young woman - they would never suspect there is a moldy box of forgotten take out food in my backseat that I'll discover in a few days. People socialized as female are expected to be neat, organized, in control. They don't even consider that I might not be those things.

"What did you bring for the potluck today?" my coworker asks.

The ingredients I bought for the dish I signed up to make are rotting in my fridge, forgotten as soon as I put them there after shopping two weeks ago. I didn't think to buy them closer to today. I also didn't think to put the pot luck on my calendar.

I make up an elaborate story about how my boyfriend needed to be picked up from a far-away job site last night. She believes me and I feel I don't deserve it.

I wish I wasn't a good actress.

#adhd #adhd women #adhd post #adhd tag #adhd things #executive dysfunction #neurodiverse stuff #add #essay #personal #totisviribusletters #adhd feels #adhd life #adult ADHD #adhd adult #adhd brain #my adhd

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lunar-rcp · 1 month

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could you do something with Roy being cared for by Poli. I don’t mind it being anything, I just want my favorite character to be comforted—Kidshowsarecool

Putting out your flames of emotions

# . . ! tags; fluff/angst (mostly on roy's part, though)

Having achieved his dream of being a recuse member, he already had his life set in stone. Saving others from unfortunate incidents.

However, the firetruck never could save himself at times. (Which was, mostly.)

And today was one of those days.

Roy sighed wearily, his gaze saddening as he closed the electrical panel after inspecting it thoroughly at Mr.Builders place. Today was quite the exhausting day, even the overworking fire truck could admit that to himself. It was one of those days where he just wanted to quit and imagine himself laying onto his bed, happy to even hear his own thoughts.

But, he couldn't. He had to please others around him, that was the goal he set for himself.

“Roy!” Mr.Builder yelled with glee as he approached the firetruck, quickly making Roy snap out of his carousel of thoughts.

“O-Oh! Erm, ah-..” Roy fiddled with his fingers, desperately trying to compose himself as quickly as possible. He couldn't just show off this state to anyone. Even his own rescue team. The firetruck despised it when anyone would worry about him. He was fine.

Well, he thought he was fine.

“..Yes?” Which was what he managed to mutter out, cringing at his own answer. His eyebrows furrowing, pondering as to why he just didn't feel his best.

“Seems like you've finished ya work here? Well, that's great! Oh, and also–” Mr.Builder suddenly tilted his head, taking notice of how dull the firetrucks expression was. “Hey, Roy? What's with the long face? Is your day not going swell?..” Mr.Builder spoke with a concerned tone. In response, Roy shook his hands frantically.

“Oh, nono! Don't worry, don't worry! I'm just fine!”

Roy gulped. He just lied. But, he didn't want to worry anyone about his day.

His day contained of bratty children screaming at the firetruck, all because he was concerned for their safety. He also had to set out many fires, having to face families look at their now charred houses.

..But he couldn't tell Mr.Builder that.

“Ya sure? Well, can't be helped! I'm just a big worrywart, aha.” Mr.Builder scratched his head, chuckling. “As I was sayin’, could ya check out some fallen signs in the mountains? Me and my team jus’ don't have the time with the new construction.”

He didn't want to. But, what could he say? He'd rather toss his emotions into a bottle and ship it overseas than to face a disappointed citizen's face. “Oh, of course Mr.Builder. I'll get on to it.” Roy spoke with a quiet soft sigh, saying his goodbyes and transforming into his vehicle form to drive off to the mountains.

. . .

The police car was patrolling the road to the mountains, humming softly along with the whimsical tunes of birds chirping.

Poli stopped his humming when he spotted quite the familiar red silhouette from the distance, it wouldn't take a genius to find out who that red paint belonged to.

“Roy! Hey, Roy!”

Roy stopped in his tracks. He knew Poli too well; and so did Poli. It would take a matter of seconds for the police car to find out that something wasn't right.

‘Pretend you didn't see him, pretend you didn't see him..’ Roy talked to himself in a whispered tone, swiftly turning around and driving the other way. To which leaving the police car puzzled.

“Huh? What's going on?” Poli raised an eyebrow, this wasn't like Roy. Concerned, Poli started to drive towards Roy's direction.

“Roy! C'mon, what's up?” Ack. That concerned tone left a bitter taste in Roy's mouth and heart. The guilt started to settle in, and so were emotions that started to bubble.

“..D-Don't..-” Roy swallowed his stutters, his voice obviously cracking. This only added to Poli's concerns. “Don't worry, I'm, u-uh.. fine.” The guilt at last has come up to the surface as his eyes were pricked with bubbles of tears. Roy refused to face Poli, not in this way. He needed to escape the situation. “U-Uhm, gotta go. See you.” The firetruck started to drive away, his tears already spilling on his frame.

“..Roy? Wait, no! Roy!” Before Roy could react, Poli sped right in front of him. No surprise for the fastest car in Broomstown. “Roy, you're acting off. Please tell me wha-” Poli stopped his rambles of questions to a halt when he saw tears bubbling in the beady eyes of the firetruck. “Oh, Roy..” Poli sighed sadly, driving closer next to his best friend, touching his tire against his.

And that was the final arrow to break the bottle of emotions as Roy started to sob. The guilt completely ate his composure away. “I'm- I..! S-So..” Roy choked on his words, only to be interrupted by his sobs.

“Shh,” Poli shushed the firetruck, softly rubbing against his tire. “It will be okay. Just spill it all out, friend.”

. . .

After Roy finally had calmed down from this aching moment, the two had transformed and were sitting on the hills of Galaxy hill, admiring the view while Roy had finally talked out his problems.

“Ah, so that's what happened.” Poli sighed with a hint of frustration. Those damn kids.. He'll be sure to speak to their parents after this ordeal. “Thank you for telling me, Roy. But you could have told me sooner.”

“I'm sorry..” Roy looked down to his hands. “I just, don't want to worry anyone. Everyone always has this image of me being the strongest, and I just have to keep to that expected image of theirs.”

“Not true, I don't.”

“What?” Roy was rather surprised by this answer, his mouth slightly open.

“Sure, you're the strongest and can lift an entire boulder with ease. But that doesn't mean you always have to throw your feelings way like nothing. I care about you, Roy. And so does the entire team as well. We all care about you.” Poli smiled at him, a glint of appreciation in his eyes. Roy has always protected the town with such care.

And now it was his turn to take care of Roy.

Roy's mouth was about to open to say something, but he was met by an embrace from the police car.

“P-Poli, I..” A tear formed in his eye. But this was a happy one. “Thank you, Poli.” Roy hugged him back tightly, finally finding his usual warm smile plastered on his face.

“Roy, I'll be there for you, whenever and wherever.

Word count: 1090 !

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wow, this was an emotional one shot. thank you for the ask !

#robocar poli #roy #poli #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #oneshot #kidshow #rcp

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