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#everyone appreciates good ac
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Reblog if schools should stop spending thousands on new sports equipment and should fix their elevator and air conditioning to increase accessibility for disabled students and quality of life for everyone
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I'm working on a kidlaw thing now where Kidd's the owner of a fashion conglomerate called Victoria Punk. They met in the flagship store and they flirt, yadda yadda whatever—that's not important. What is though, is how I immediately thought of how the Ace and Sabo would get involved in the (luxury) fashion industry since they're my favs alongside Kidd. Here's my takes lmao
Ace would own a shoe store. He sells a pretty small but reliable and beautiful collection of leather shoes and boots. As an athlete and hitchhiker, he understands the need for footwear that's durable, comfortable and fashionable. Since his target demographic are fellow hitchhikers who do insane shit outdoors, his shoes are good quality. They will live through avalanches, snowstorms, cyclones, rocky mountains, swamps—whatever—and the most you'd need to do is replace the laces. Aesthetically-speaking, they're plain, but if you're into the look of sturdy leather that smells wonderful (like me), his stuff is perfect for you.
I say this because I'm currently imagining Ace helping Law try the shoes on like he would delicately slip them on Law's feet like a princess and tie his laces for him. He would look up at Law and smile when he sees that Law feels very comfortable in these shoes.
Gah! The intimacy!
For funsies, he makes Law try on those high, knee-length boots and gets very turned on because Law has legs for days. It's like a kink of his now and he gets esp turned on seeing that.
For Sabo, I can't decide between a watch shop or a (pawn) jewellery store. Either way, I want him to be very involved with people, as in he would sit there and admire little intricate things with his clients. He loves listening to what customers like and helping them find what they're looking for. Rather than for practical purposes like Ace, Sabo's more interested in sentimental values. He's not interested in just a pretty watch or a pretty ring— he wants to help clients find the perfect watch for their children to pass down to their grandchildren; he wants to help clients find the perfect engagement ring for their loved ones. He's into the storytelling aspect of luxury marketing.
If we're talking Sabolaw, then maybe Law walks into Sabo's little run down store one day and asks if Sabo could help fix an heirloom from Corazon. Sabo agrees for a small fee and from there they talk about the thing itself, and then onto what Sabo does, and then what Law does. Amongst this heart to heart, they look at each other and go. oh.
I enjoy this person very much. (edit: I wrote more on Sabolaw here)
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Kamen Rider Geats episode 41 poorly summarized via memes with as little context as possible:
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aceredshirt13 · 2 years
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Red's Favorite Joke Fills (From Part 34 Of The Phoenix Wright Kink Meme)
So I had plans to make a whole living post in which I linked all my favorite fics from the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme that weren't available on other fic hosting sites (since the kink meme is not exactly easy to navigate) on one constantly-evolving Tumblr post, and then I remembered that I could bookmark fics from external sites on my AO3, which I realized would probably be much easier. Instead, I have decided to make a Tumblr post compiling all of the short joke answers to prompts that have made me laugh.
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and two explicit ones under the cut.
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wannab3-writer · 1 month
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Game, Set, Love
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ART DONALDSON X READER (18+)
Mature Content Warnings: spoilers if you SQUINT , Forbidden Love, Second-Chance Romance, Age Gap, Mentor and Protégé, cheating ( sorta, not on reader), SMUT, NOT PROOF READ.
WC: 13.2 k
description
After walking away from tennis at the height of his career, Art Donaldson finds himself drawn back into the sport as a favour to an old friend. His new charge, Katrina King, is a talented but emotionally young player navigating the intense pressures of the professional tennis circuit. Art and Katrina's connection deepens as they train for the 2020 US Open but a single night changes everything.
2020 BEVERLLY HILLS CHALLENGER
August 31st, 2020
Art Donaldson sat in the shaded section of the stands, his arms resting casually on the armrests. He'd made it clear to everyone—Tashi and the media—that he was done with tennis. But Martha King, a long-time supporter of his and Tashi's tennis foundation, insisted that he attend, going so far as to cover all his expenses for the weekend so he could attend. Her daughter, Katrina King, was playing her final challenger before qualifying for the US Open, and Martha believed it was something he couldn’t miss.
"It's just one set; I'm not going to sit here and beg you to coach her or anything. Just watch, Art. I think you'll find it worthwhile."
Art nodded slightly, keeping his expression neutral. "I’m here, aren't I?" he said, keeping an aloof facade. He glanced toward the court, where Katrina was preparing to serve and begin the last set. Her movements were fluid and purposeful. He'd heard about her talent and determination, but he wasn't ready to be pulled back into the tennis world.
The game began, and Katrina's serve was powerful, almost explosive. Art watched with mild interest as her opponent, a seasoned French player, struggled to keep up. He watched her body move, head to toe, taking her in. She was tall and lean; her body was nothing less than an athletes that was for sure.
"She's impressive," Art commented, a hint of genuine appreciation in his voice. Katrina’s mother smiled, her perfectly manicured fingers resting on her lap, glancing over towards him.
"She works hard," she replied. "A lot like Tashi used to. I remember watching her play when she was just starting out. She had the same intensity, the same drive."
That had left a bad taste in his mouth.
Art's gaze lingered on Katrina as she moved around the court with confidence and agility. Each shot was precise. He found himself leaning forward slightly, and his interest piqued despite his best efforts to remain indifferent.
Martha noticed the shift in his demeanor and cocked a brow. "It's good to see you out here, Art. I know you didn't want to come, but I'm glad you did," she said, her voice soft yet firm. Art nodded, his eyes fixed on the match.
"I'm just watching; nothing special, really," he replied, unsure if he was convincing himself or her.  — Another ace, and the crowd erupted in applause. Art found himself joining in, clapping slowly, though his eyes were locked on Katrina. Something about her—the energy, the focus—reminded him of the early days, the days of fire and ice, Stanford, Wimbledon, and Tashi. It was electric.
As the match progressed, Art's arms uncrossed, and he sat forward, his attention fully on the game. Katrina was dominating, each point building momentum until she reached the match point. The rallies were intense, and the shots were sharp and strategic. With one last ace, Katrina secured the game and title, and her triumphant fist-pump met with a roar from the crowd.
Art stood, clapping with genuine enthusiasm. It had been a long time since he'd felt this kind of excitement watching a match. Martha looked at him, raising an eyebrow, her expression expectant.
"Well?" she asked, her voice warm but with an edge that demanded a response.
Art hesitated only briefly, the words coming out almost involuntarily. "I'll do it," he said, realizing that he meant it. The idea of coaching Katrina suddenly seemed like an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
Martha smiled, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "I knew you'd come around," she said. "Katrina will be thrilled."
Art nodded, his gaze returning to the court where Katrina stood, smiling at the applause. Turning towards the crowd after a few seconds, she found her mother’s gaze, and then — Arts, and she held a fiery look in her eyes, sporting a raised  brow and sly smirk for what felt like at least a minute. One thing was sure for Katrina, on August 31st, 2020, the match wasn’t the only thing she had won that day, and maybe, just maybe, tennis had a place for him again.
THE MEETING
Katrina King walked down the narrow corridor backstage, sweaty, hot, and short of breath, the adrenaline from her victory still coursing through her veins. She was basking in her win, her smile broad and confident. But her mother's text just minutes after the game was clear: "Come to the players' lounge. Now."
She pushed open the door and saw her mother sitting at a small table with Art Donaldson. Katrina knew who he was—everyone in tennis knew. A former tennis champion, the US Open winner from a decade earlier.
Art looked up as Katrina entered the room, his eyes scanning her with a mix of curiosity and appraisal. Her long hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intensity and confidence. He noticed the subtle tilt of her chin—she was used to winning, and it showed.
"Katrina," Martha said, gesturing for her to join them. "You remember Art Donaldson, don't you?"
"Of course," Katrina replied, extending her hand. Art stood, his movement deliberate, and shook her hand firmly. His hair was longer than she remembered, resembling his past self, his Stanford days, and recalling his games she'd seen on YouTube. His grip was strong.
"Great game today," Art said, his voice measured. "You played with a lot of confidence. That last ace was a killer."
"Thanks," Katrina replied, a hint of pride in her tone. She could tell he was assessing her and weighing her potential. She didn't mind—she'd done the same with him, reading up on his career and his playing style as soon as she found out he was attending her game. He was known for his
Martha cleared her throat. "But," she said, her tone turning sharp, "there were a few things you need to work on. Your backhand was a bit sloppy today. And you were late on a couple of volleys. If your opponent had been more aggressive, you could've lost points."
Katrina's expression hardened. She knew her mother was right, but the criticism was not something that needed to be said in front of Art; for God sake, she was a 20-year-old woman but felt like she was a child getting scolded in front of her peers, especially after a big win. Art watched the exchange, noting the dynamic between them.
"I'll work on it," Katrina said, her voice steady. "But I got the win, didn't I?"
"You need to be prepared for tougher competition. Complacency is the enemy." Martha replied. “If you think you can win the grand slam playing like that, you’ll be in for a rude awakening, Katrina.”
Art leaned back in his chair, watching the interplay. Katrina definitely had the spark and the drive, but there was also a stubborn streak in her.
So Tashi
When she was younger, she was always pushing boundaries and never satisfied with just a win. He could see the potential for greatness.
"She's got a point," Art said, jumping in. "There's always room for improvement. But you played a solid game today. The key is to keep that momentum going without getting overconfident."
Katrina glanced at him, assessing his words. She appreciated his straightforward approach. He wasn't coddling her, but he also wasn't tearing her down. It was a balance she could respect.
"I'm not planning on slowing down," she said, meeting his gaze. "I want to keep getting better. Whatever it takes."
Art nodded. He liked her attitude. It was raw and unfiltered, just like he had been. But there was also a hint of something else—an edge that could either make or break her career. He'd have to be careful, tread lightly, and guide her without pushing too hard.
"Good," he replied, a faint smile on his lips. "Because coaching isn't just about winning. It's about building a mindset, a work ethic, and knowing when to listen. You up for that?"
Katrina raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You wouldn’t have agreed to coach me if I wasn’t.”
PRACTICE
Art Donaldson stepped into the grand foyer of the White residence, feeling a slight twinge of unease. The housekeepers greeted him politely, their voices formal and distant, leading him through the opulent hallways.
The backyard was large, with meticulously manicured gardens and a full-sized tennis court at its center. Katrina was on the court, stretching with the fluid grace of a seasoned athlete. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and in her matching tennis outfit, everything was neatly upheld, even Katrina.
"Hi," she said, her tone somewhat neutral, almost formal. "Ready for practice?"
Art nodded, his expression detached.
Katrina stretched a little longer, glancing at Art occasionally. He stood with his arms crossed, his posture stiff and unwelcoming. The silence between them felt heavy, and neither seemed eager to break it. Katrina was used to coaches being more engaged and enthusiastic, but Art seemed distant, as if he was doing this out of obligation rather than passion.
"Let's get started," he replied, keeping his voice level. He placed his bag on a bench and scanned the court, taking in the pristine surface and the quality equipment. It was clear that the King family spared no expense on Katrina's training facilities.
Art finally spoke, outlining the plan for the day. "We'll start with your serve. There's a lot of power, which is why you can get so many aces in, but you need better footwork if you want to avoid long-term injuries. Then we'll work on your defense, and after that, we'll focus on your shot selection."
Art finally spoke, outlining the plan for the day. "We'll start with your serve. There's a lot of power, which is why you can get so many aces in, but you need better footwork if you want to avoid long-term injuries. Then we'll work on your defense, and after that, we'll focus on your shot selection."
Katrina listened with a mix of uncertainty and skepticism. Art Donaldson wasn't the type to mince words, and despite his unbothered demeanor, his comments were sharp and to the point. What puzzled her was how much he seemed to know about her style, despite only seeing her play once.?
Art continued, his voice even and matter-of-fact. "I've reviewed some of your past games, mostly the ones you lost. It's clear you have the raw strength and power, but you rely on them too much. That's great for getting those aces, but without proper technique and precision, you're risking injuries and inconsistency. We need to refine that raw power and give it more structure."
Katrina couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation. She knew she was strong, and her serve was one of the best on the circuit, but hearing someone dissect her game so quickly was unsettling. This was only their first practice; they hadn’t even started playing yet, but somehow Art already seemed to know her weaknesses better than most of her previous coaches.
Art continued, unaware of her internal resistance. "So, I've created a set of drills that will help improve your footwork and balance. It's not just about hitting the ball hard; it's about control and accuracy. If we don't work on these areas, you're going to burn out before you reach your peak."
Katrina folded her arms, her brow furrowing slightly. She wasn't one to take criticism lightly, especially from someone who'd barely spent time with her. Art had a point—she'd heard similar comments before—but his bluntness felt a bit too forward for her liking. Who was he to tell her she needed refinement after only seeing her play once?
As much as she wanted to dismiss him, she knew, deep down, that he was right. Her strength was a double-edged sword; it gave her an edge, but it also left her vulnerable. She'd suffered minor injuries in the past due to poor technique, and she'd lost matches because of these errors. Art's critique, though harsh, had truth to it.
Art noticed her hesitation and the slight edge in her expression. "I know this might sound a bit blunt," he said, softening his tone slightly. "But I'm not here to sugarcoat things. If you want to make it to the top and stay there, you need to listen and adjust. This isn't about criticism—it's about giving you the best chance to succeed."
Katrina sighed, feeling her resistance wane. Maybe Art was a bit too forward, but he wasn't wrong. He had seen something in her that others hadn't—or maybe he was just willing to point it out where others had stayed silent. She was stubborn, but she wasn't stupid.
"Okay," she said, her voice steady. "Let's give it a shot."
Art nodded, his demeanor slightly less rigid. "Good. Let's start with the footwork drills. I'll show you what I mean."
As they moved onto the court to begin the practice, Katrina felt a cautious sense of optimism. Art was a mystery; she had only met him once before and couldn’t recall him being this cold, but there was something about his straightforwardness that felt refreshing, even if it rubbed her the wrong way at first. Maybe this coaching thing would work out after all—if she could just learn to trust his instincts.
Art watched her for a while, his arms still crossed. He occasionally offered a brief correction, but his tone lacked enthusiasm. "Keep your elbow in on your serve. It'll give you more control," he said without much inflection.
Katrina adjusted her stance and served again, this time with better accuracy. "I got it," she replied, glancing at Art to gauge his reaction. He simply nodded, his face expressionless.
As the practice progressed, the tension between them slowly eased. Art started giving more detailed feedback, explaining why certain techniques were important. Katrina listened intently, realizing that, despite his aloof demeanor, he knew his stuff. His advice was sound, and when she followed it, she could see near-immediate improvement in her game.
"You're not bad at this coaching thing," she remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Art gave a faint smile, the first she'd seen from him. "Just repeating what I've heard a thousand times," he replied.
Katrina tilted her head, curiosity getting the better of her. "Didn't Tashi coach you your whole career? There must have been an adjustment when you two decided to retire, huh?" After those words left her mouth, she knew she had hit a sore spot.
Art's expression changed, the brief smile vanishing. "Yeah, she was." She hadn't meant any harm; really, it was an honest question. Art had a successful career with more than enough titles under his belt, not to mention a prior injury; it only made sense to retire when he did.
His voice grew colder. "Alright, breaks over." He turned away, signaling the end of the conversation.
The rest of the practice was more focused, with Art providing steady guidance and Katrina working hard to apply his advice. As the session drew to a close, Katrina felt a subtle shift in Art's attitude. He seemed a bit more relaxed and engaged in the process.
Before they wrapped up, Katrina decided to ask a question that had been on her mind. "Art, why did you agree to coach me?" she asked, her tone softer, almost hesitant. “No offense, but you didn't seem the most pleased when you got here.” She stopped and laughed. “And I know my mother's paying you well, but I'm sure you do good for yourself on your own.”
Art paused, considering his response. He looked up to the sky in thought, licking his lips only to settle his gaze on her while she rolled out her quads. "When I watched your game, I saw the determination and drive for tennis that I haven't seen in a long time," he said, his voice softer, almost reflective. "Not since Tashi," he added, his eyes distant. The memory of Tashi's knee injury and the end of her career lingered in the air. “It honestly felt like I was watching her for the first time again.”
Katrina nodded, sensing the heaviness in his words. "Thank you," she said quietly. She knew there was more to Art's story, but she also knew it wasn't her place to press further. She got up after her stretch, dusting herself off.
Art nodded, "We'll meet again tomorrow at the same time," he said, his voice returning to its usual calm. Katrina agreed, sensing that this coaching relationship would take time to develop but feeling that they were on the right track. “I think it would be a smart move to sign you up for some challengers; we’ll be able to fully gauge your abilities after a couple of weeks of training and see what we need to adjust.”
AFTER PRACTICE
Katrina stepped out of the shower, the hot water having done little to soothe the tension in her shoulders. The first practice with Art had been intense, and her muscles were starting to feel the strain. Wrapping a towel around herself, she took a deep breath, wondering if she'd made the right choice in agreeing to work with him.
As she got dressed, the scent of dinner wafted through the air, a rich aroma that made her stomach rumble. She hadn't eaten much during the day, and she hoped her mom would let her have something substantial.
Katrina entered the dining room, where her mother was already seated at the head of the table, a glass of wine in hand. The table was set with a carefully arranged selection of dishes, but Katrina noticed the absence of anything remotely indulgent. No desserts, no heavy carbs, just the usual assortment of protein and vegetables.
"Good evening, Mom," Katrina said, forcing a smile as she took a seat. Her mother looked up from her phone, her eyes bright but her expression serious.
"Katrina," Martha replied, her tone even. "How was practice with art?"
Katrina shrugged, picking up a piece of grilled chicken. "It was fine. He's... intense, but I guess that's to be expected from someone like him." She paused, then added, "How did you even get him to come to my match? He's been avoiding tennis for ages."
Martha's smile was tight, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Art and I have a history; we’ve always been interested in his foundational work. I just reminded him of the impact he could make by coming back, even if it was just for one match. And you know, he doesn't say no to me, not when your father and I are as generous as we are during his charity events."
Katrina raised an eyebrow, sensing the hint of manipulation in her mother's words. "So you used the foundation to guilt him into coming?"
Classic
Martha's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not guilt, Katrina. It's connections; your father and I do a lot for you and your career. There's a difference.” She paused. “The money we put into the foundations were investments for you; we would have preferred Tashi, sure, but after Art retired, she went off to coach some European girls, so we got the second best.” She was irritated. “Besides, I thought you'd be happy to have a coach like Art. You said yourself you needed someone with real experience." 
Katrina sighed, realizing that arguing with her mom was a lost cause. "I guess," she said, taking a cautious bite of the chicken. She glanced at the dessert tray on the far end of the table, spotting a small dish of fruit tarts. Her mouth watered at the sight of them.
Martha followed her gaze and shook her head. "Don't even think about it," she said firmly. "Your dietitian would have a fit. You know you're on a strict regimen."
Katrina rolled her eyes, but she didn't push back. Her mom was relentless when it came to her career, and any deviation from the plan was met with immediate correction. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, feeling her appetite wane.
“Where’s Jayden and Judea?” Katrina asked only now, noticing her siblings were missing from the dinner table.
“They went out to dinner with the rest of the kids that train with them and coach Pattcheo.”
“mmh.”
After dinner, Katrina retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. She felt a mix of frustration and curiosity. Frustration with her mom's overbearing attitude and curiosity about Art.
She opened her laptop and started searching for Art's social media profiles. His Instagram was sparse, mostly old tennis photos and a few promotional shots, brand deals, and the foundation. Barley has no pictures of his daughter and no recent ones of Tashi. His Facebook was similar, with long gaps between posts. There were articles about his career, but nothing stood out.
"For such a big shot, there’s not much for me to stalk," she muttered to herself, scrolling through the limited content. It was clear that Art wasn't one for the limelight, preferring to keep a low profile. Katrina found herself intrigued.
She searched for videos of his old matches, curious to see him in action. She found a few highlights from his glory days, watching as he moved across the court with precision and grace. It was easy to see why he'd been a champion—his technique was flawless, and his focus was intense.
"Not bad," she said to herself, watching a particularly impressive rally where he had dominated his opponent.
As the night grew darker, Katrina closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. Art was weird, and she wasn't sure how to feel about him yet. But one thing was clear—he had a depth that she'd have to uncover if she wanted to make the most of his coaching. And maybe, just maybe, he'd be the one to help her reach the next level.
SIX DAYS BEFORE US OPEN
It was six days before the Open, and Art stood at the far end of the court, watching Katrina as she moved through a set of agility drills. The sun was beating down, but Katrina was relentless, her movements swift and precise. As he took her in, he marveled at how good she looked. The thin layer of sweat that covered her form made her glow in the evening light, with her baby hair clinging to her face as she hit ball after ball. He drank in her curves, nearly forgetting what he was actually here for.
Art was calling out instructions, his voice clear but encouraging. Clearly, the past five weeks of training had brought them closer, both in skill and in the ease with which they interacted.
"Remember to keep your weight centered," Art said, pointing toward her feet. "Don't lean too much into the shot; it'll throw off your balance. Other than that, you’re looking good."
Katrina nodded, adjusting her stance. She enjoyed the sound of his voice, especially when he was praising her. It felt genuine, not just a coach’s platitude. She could sense an unspoken tension between them, but she couldn't quite define it. It was there, in the way his eyes lingered a fraction longer than they needed to, in the way he sometimes reached out to correct her form.
"Nice volley," Art said as she expertly returned the ball over the net. "You're really getting the hang of these drills."
"Thanks," Katrina replied, giving him a small smile. "I learned from the best."
Art chuckled, shaking his head. "Flattery won't save you on the court, but it's appreciated." He watched as she moved into position for a backhanded hit, a play that had been a weak point for her. She swung, and the ball clipped the net.
Maybe she was just tired, or maybe he just looked too good; either way, she was distracted. How was she supposed to focus when he was standing with his broad shoulders and arms crossed and that damn backwards Sandford snapback observing like a hawk? She understood that’s his job; he’s quite literally getting paid to be here. Something was different though; the look he gave her five weeks ago, shit even two weeks ago, was nothing near the way he looks at her now.
“Stop.” He says, and she halts her hit.
Art moved closer, taking a pause, before walking behind her, closing the distance between them. "Here, let me show you," he said, reaching around her to correct her grip on the racket. His breath was warm on her neck, and Katrina tensed, feeling a heat that wasn't from the sun. His touch was gentle but firm, guiding her into the proper position.
"Like this," Art said, stepping back slightly but still close enough to feel his presence. "Keep your elbow straight and your wrist firm."
Katrina nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath and swung again, this time clearing the net with ease.
“There we go, atta girl.” He whispered while cracking a smile.
She felt hot, oh god, and it definitely wasn’t the sun. How could he say that so casually? She didn’t have to just deal with the fact that she’s now all hot and bothered, but also the guilty embarrassment of realizing she has a fat crush on her 30-sum-year-old tennis coach, who just happens to be a husband and father.
Right
Pulling away, she changes the subject, considering he’s been silent for the past minute and a half. "How's your daughter doing? And Tashi?" She felt the atmosphere shift as Art cleared his throat, stepping back.
"Lily's doing well," he replied, his voice controlled. "She's on tour with Tashi, who's coaching her for the season." He left it at that, his eyes avoiding hers as he focused on the court. "Keep hitting the ball with that form," he added, his tone all business now.
Art adjusted his pants, his expression tight, and turned to leave. "I'll be right back," he said. "I just need to run to the bathroom."
Katrina watched him go, her heart still racing from the moment he'd been so close. She tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing on her training, but the lingering warmth of his presence was hard to ignore. The open tournament was coming up, and she needed to be at her best, both on and off the court. The challenge would be to keep her focus where it needed to be.
“Oh, what the fuck, Art?” feeling his own disappointment, he said to himself as he did his best to fix the hard-on that was growing by the second. What would he give to be able to take a cold shower right now?
Scurrying to the bathroom, he quickly shut the door behind him. He takes a deep breath and leans against the door, contemplating what just happened and palming himself.
“Fuck” was uttered in a raspy and hushed manner.
He turns to look at himself in the mirror. He felt guilty forgetting hard for a girl over a decade younger than him. But that wasn’t what he really felt guilty about. He felt guilty because he liked it. She was fiery; she was driven, and the way she looked at him, with admiration, was long since Tashi looked at him with any emotion of the sort. Katrina made him feel good about himself. And fuck, was she hot. He was almost certain that as the days of training passed, the length of her skirt shortened and her tops got tighter, or maybe he just started paying attention to it.
He needed to stop thinking of her for his sanity and his cocks, because leaving every practice with blue balls for the last week and a half hasn’t been pleasant.
Splashing himself with cold water and tucking his dick into his waistband, he walks back out before she starts questioning anything.
"All right, that's it for today," he called out, clapping his hands to get her attention. "Good work. We'll take it easy tomorrow, then hit the road the day after."
Katrina straightened, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "Thanks," she said, her voice a little breathless from the intense workout. "I feel good about it. I think we're ready."
Art nodded, watching her carefully as she walked toward him. There was a grace to her movements, even in her exhaustion. She carried herself with confidence, but there was also a vulnerability that he'd come to recognize. It was in the way she sometimes hesitated before speaking or the way her eyes softened when they shared a joke.
"Thanks for, you know, doing this," Katrina said, her eyes meeting his. "I know you didn't have to, but... I'm glad you did."
Art felt a strange warmth in his chest, a sense of connection that he'd been avoiding, or perhaps suppressing. There was something about Katrina that made him want to stay, to guide her through the ups and downs of the game. And it wasn't just about tennis. It was something deeper, something that made him feel almost protective.
"It's been a good few weeks," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "You've got a lot of potential, Katrina. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think you could go far."
She smiled, a genuine smile that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you."
There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where neither of them moved. He knew he should step back and create some distance, but he found himself drawn in, his gaze lingering on her lips, then her eyes. There was something about her.
"All right," he said, finally breaking the silence. "Get some rest tonight. We've got a long drive ahead of us, and I need you focused."
Katrina nodded, her eyes locking with his. The tension was palpable, a mix of excitement and something else, something neither of them wanted to name. Art felt the stirrings of something almost primal, a desire that had been dormant for a long time. He knew it wasn't appropriate, but it was there, simmering just beneath the surface.
"Good night," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper.
"Good night," he replied, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer than they should. "Rest up. I'll see you tomorrow." With his things packed, he walked off the court, leaving her to stretch.
The US Open tournament was coming, and with it, a new set of challenges—both on and off the court.
THE DRIVE TO SAN DIEGO
This was unexpected. Somehow, Katrina was sitting in the passenger seat of Arts Blue Bronco and had managed to snag herself a one-on-one tournament weekend with the Art Donaldson himself. Her mother had only missed three of her games throughout her entire career. The first time was when Katrina was 12. Her mother didn't attend because Katrina had just started playing tennis, and her mother assumed she wouldn't be good enough to watch, so she spent her time on holiday with the neighborhood housewives and was pleasantly surprised when Katrina returned with her first trophy. The second time was when Katrina was 16. Their grandmother had passed away, but Katrina's mother insisted that Katrina should play in the game instead of staying home to grieve like a normal person. She told Katrina that every win was one step closer to a successful career; bad things happen all the time, and you simply “need to get over it and move on." The third time was today, when Katrina was 20, after her little brother's appendix unexpectedly burst at 4 a.m. in the morning, and he and their mom had to rush to the hospital.
"How do you feel about your mom not being here this time?" Art asked, leaning back in his seat. He took a sip of his coffee, glancing at Katrina's expression carefully.
Katrina shrugged. "Honestly? I'm kind of happy she's not here. It's like a weight off my shoulders. I don't have to worry about her criticizing every move I make or every shot I miss."
Art nodded, sensing the relief in her voice. "Your mom seems pretty tough on you."
"She is," Katrina replied, swirling her drink. "She talks a big game, but sometimes I think she doesn't really know what she's saying. Like when she criticizes my plays—she doesn't really get the game, you know? She just wants to be involved, but it's not always helpful."
Art felt a twinge of sympathy. He'd known parents like that, always pushing, always expecting perfection without understanding the sacrifices involved. "I'm glad I could be here for you, then," he said. "You shouldn't have to go through all this alone. It's hard enough without extra pressure from someone who isn't really helping."
Katrina shrugged, her lips curling into a small, ironic smile. "It's been like that since I was a kid. I never had much of a childhood, anyway. The little bit of teenager-like stuff I did, I had to sneak around to do it. Mom was always watching, always pushing me to be the best and to win. I never really got to be a kid."
Art felt a pang of something deep in his chest. It wasn't just empathy—it was a sense of injustice, of the things Katrina had missed out on. He'd seen it before in other athletes whose parents lived vicariously through their children, expecting them to carry the weight of their own dreams. It was a burden no young person should have to bear. Shit went through it himself with Tashi, and it eventually cost them their relationship.
"That sounds rough," he said, his voice gentle. "Everyone deserves a chance to be a kid—to have fun, to make mistakes, to figure things out without a constant spotlight." 
“I definitely have to make mistakes." She paused and giggled in embarrassment. “This might be T.M.I. But my first time was with a random guy around my age that was dragged to a dinner party at his parents house.” She side-eyes Art for a moment. “Of course, while the adults did whatever adults do, we snuck off into the liquor cabinet, got so hammered, and then decided to go up to my room.”
Art only looked at her with a raised brow, waiting for her to finish.
“Long story short, by the time we were done, everyone was looking for us — of course we were too stupid to think that anyone would notice we were missing for over an hour.” She sighs with a smile. "Anyways, it turns out they were serving desert, and when the housekeeper came in looking for us, she couldn’t hold back a scream. It's safe to say I can’t even remember how long I was grounded for.”
Art was fully laughing now, not sure if it was from second hand embarrassment or because of how unexpected this was.
“Mistakes aren’t something; you escape, believe me.” He seemed nostalgic.
"Yeah," Katrina replied, her gaze dropping to the table. 
“Anyways, I’m sure instances like that’s what made me basically one of the strongest tennis players of all time,” she concludes, sarcastically exaggerating.
Art sighed, leaning forward slightly. "Strength isn't just about winning," he said. "It's about finding your own way, making your own choices, and being okay with who you are, even if it doesn't fit someone else's expectations."
Katrina looked up at him, her expression thoughtful. "That's what I want," she said. "I want to play because I love it, not because I'm trying to prove something to someone else. I just... I wish I had more time to figure it all out."
Art nodded, understanding her struggle. "You'll get there," he said. "You've got a lot of potential, and you're doing it for the right reasons. Just remember, it's okay to take a step back sometimes. To enjoy the game, to find joy in the small things,
Katrina smiled—a real smile that reached her eyes. "Thanks," she said. "I needed to hear that."
Art returned her smile, feeling a connection that went beyond coach and player. It was a moment of genuine understanding, the kind that made all the effort and hard work worth it. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but at least they had each other to navigate it together.
AT THE HOTEL
After a two-hour drive, Art and Katrina King arrived at the hotel where they would be staying during the tournament in San Diego. The hotel was upscale, with modern decor and spacious rooms. They'd been given a suite with two separate bedrooms connected by a shared living area. It was the perfect setup for coach and player.
Art had just finished unpacking when he decided to knock on Katrina's door. It was only 7 p.m., and he thought it might be nice to have dinner together. A little bonding before the tournament might help ease some of the tension they have been feeling lately. There is no harm in a friendly dinner. 
Right?
Katrina opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Art standing there. "Hey," she said, her voice softer than usual. "What's up?"
"Want to grab dinner?" Art asked, keeping his tone casual. "There's a nice restaurant downtown I've been meaning to check out every time I come down here."
Katrina hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a hint of a smile. "Sure, why not?" she replied. She felt a slight flutter in her stomach—this wasn't just a quick meal at the hotel lobby; it was a proper dinner out.
"Great," Art said, checking his designer watch. "Meet you back here in 40."
Katrina agreed, closing the door to get ready. She picked out a simple black dress, something a little fancier than she normally wears. Her brown hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, cascaded down in curls. When she checked her reflection in the mirror, she felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was just dinner, right?
When she stepped out of her room, Art was already waiting in the living area. He glanced up and immediately did a double take. Katrina looked stunning, the soft curls of her hair framing her face perfectly. Her dress hugged her figure in a way that made it hard to look away. Art felt like a high school boy going out on his first date. He could already feel himself stiffen. 
Blinking, he gives up a smirk. "You look great."
Katrina blushed slightly. "Thanks," she replied, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "You don't look too bad yourself. Nice seeing you outside of tennis attire."
The place was dimly lit with candlelight, adding to the intimate atmosphere. As they sat down, Art felt a sense of ease with Katrina that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was nice to know that for once, something in her life wasn't just about tennis; it was about getting to know each other on a personal level.
As time passed, they got into a comfortable conversation, talking about anything and everything.
"So," Katrina began, looking across the table at him, "you mentioned your daughter earlier. Tell me about her."
Art smiled at the mention of Lily. "She's great," he said. "She's 10 and a total fire cracker; she’s starting boarding school next year. She’s got this energy that lights up a room. She loves tennis, too, but I'm trying not to push her too hard. I want her to find her own path."
Katrina nodded, appreciating his perspective. "Sounds like you're a good dad."
Art chuckled softly, then his expression turned a bit somber. "I try to be. Things have been complicated at home. Tashi and I are technically still together, but it's more for Lily's sake than anything else." He paused, glancing at Katrina to gauge her reaction. "We're not really happy, but we're making it work—for now. Nothing has really been the same since I retired, you know."
Oh, that makes sense. She tensed.
Katrina felt a guilty glimmer of hope. If Art and Tashi were essentially separated, then maybe her fantasies weren't so impossible after all. The thought made her blush, and she took a sip of water to hide it.
As the dinner progressed, they subtly flirted with each other. Art ordered a bottle of wine to keep the conversation going, which prompted Katrina to raise an eyebrow. "Isn't this off-limits?" she teased. "My mother and my dietitian would be so disappointed."
Art smirked. "You have to live a little," he replied, pouring her a glass. "Besides, a glass of wine won't ruin your career. It's all about balance, right?"
Katrina laughed softly. "Isn't it ironic that a thirty-something-year-old man is telling a twenty-year-old to have fun?"
Art chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "Maybe I know a thing or two about loosening up," he said with a playful wink. "Life's too short to be serious all the time."
“You sure look like you know how to have fun,” she said in a teasing tone. It was clear her words had a double meaning.
Art smirked and quipped, “I do; you just have to pry it out of me, I guess.
As the evening went on, the tension between them grew more palpable. The candlelight, the soft music, the wine—all of it added to the atmosphere. There was an undercurrent of attraction, a pull that neither of them could ignore. By the end of the night, you could’ve cut the tension with a knife.
Art leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "We should probably head back," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "I don't want to overdo it before the tournament."
Katrina nodded, feeling her heart race. "Yeah, probably a good idea," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
As they left the restaurant, the night air felt cooler against their skin, but the heat between them hadn't cooled at all. They walked back to the hotel in comfortable silence, each aware of the unspoken desire simmering just beneath the surface, steeling glances here and there.
The tension had been building throughout dinner. As they reached their suite, Art turned to Katrina, his expression neutral but his eyes holding a hint of warmth.
"Well, I guess we should call it a night," he said, reaching for his key card. He didn't want to cross any boundaries, especially with the multiple games she had tomorrow. But the way Katrina looked at him during dinner made it difficult to ignore the desire simmering just beneath the calm exterior.
Katrina held up a finger. "Okay...” she paused, feigning a thought. “But we didn't finish the bottle of wine," she said with a playful smile. "And my mom's going to be back for the second day of the tournament. This might be our only chance to… get to know each other; we’ll have to throw it out if we don’t finish it tonight, just sayin’."
The wine was definitely hitting.
Art hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."
They moved into the shared living room, which had a small kitchenette and a comfortable seating area. Katrina grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses while Art flipped through the channels on the television, settling on a random movie for background noise. It was an action film with a lot of explosions and fast-paced scenes, but neither of them paid much attention to it.
As they settled onto the couch, Katrina poured them each a glass of wine. The atmosphere was relaxed, but there was an underlying current of flirtation. They started talking about the tournament, about tennis, and then about life in general. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and playful banter.
"You know," Art said, taking a sip of wine, "I didn't think I'd enjoy coaching, but I'm glad I came back for this."
Katrina raised an eyebrow. "Coaching? You're more like a mentor," she teased. "Plus, you're not that old to be called a coach."
Art chuckled. "Careful, or I'll make you run extra laps tomorrow," he replied, giving her a mock stern look. "I'm not that old, but I've seen a lot in my time."
"Sure, sure," Katrina said, rolling her eyes. "You're practically ancient."
They both laughed, the sound filling the room. As the conversation continued, they found themselves leaning closer to each other, the space between them shrinking with each passing minute. The flirting became more overt—the playful touches on the arm, the shared smiles, and the lingering glances.
Art felt the tension building and the pull growing stronger. He knew he should keep his distance, but the way Katrina looked at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light, made it difficult to resist.
"You know," he said, his voice low and smooth, "you're more than just a talented player, Katrina.” He looked at her with a dark gaze. “There's something about you that makes it hard to stay away. Even when I know I should."
Katrina's eyes widened slightly, her heart racing at his words. The air between them felt electric and charged with anticipation. There were no words left to be said; they leaned in without even noticing, and there they were, on the hotel couch, lips smashed together. The wine glass in Katrina's hand tilted, spilling a few drops onto the couch, but neither of them seemed to notice or care.
The kiss was intense, filled with the desire that had been building for weeks. It was risky, even dangerous, given their roles as coach and athlete. But in that moment, none of it mattered. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them caught in a whirlwind of emotion and longing.
Sprawled out like a couple of horny teenagers making out on their parent’s couch, it was almost comedic. 
When they finally pulled apart, their breathing was ragged, and their eyes locked in a mix of surprise and exhilaration. The movie played on in the background, the noise a distant echo as they sat there, close together, knowing that everything had changed in a single moment.
“We shouldn’t do this.” Art broke the silence first.
“Yeah, we really shouldn't.” She pulled back for a moment. “But we already did.” She moved up to fix his nonexistent collar. “Unfortunately, I have this really good coach, and he’d hate to see me not finish something I started.” Sha gazed up at him as she finished giving him a cheeky smile.
She was giving him that look, a look that said nothing less than fuck me.
Art couldn’t do anything more than chuckle and give in. “Well, I’d hate to be the reason you disappoint him.“ He told her as he lifted her up into his lap.
“You’ve gotta live a little, you know.” She said it in-between kisses. His lips, his neck, and his jaw. There wasn’t an inch of him; she wasn’t going to kiss tonight.
“You’re right.” Their mouths dance together, their tongues fighting for dominance. Arts hands were taking all her in. Her dress pooled around her waist as he slipped his hands under it, grasping her tits. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this, Katrina.” He breathes out in a hushed manner, biting at her lip.
“Prove it to me, Art.” She says she is pulling her dress over her head. He stopped taking a moment to drink her in; she was beautiful.
“Holly fuck.” He rasps out, unclasping her bra, leaving it to be forgotten, much like the wine.
Katrina could feel the raging hardness beneath her. Grinding into it, she lets out a moan as he kisses and sucked on her exposed breast. “Every time I’d walk on the court, and I’d see you wearing your tight little tennis outfits, god,” he rasped while bighting his lip. “All I could think about was how I wanted to bed you over and fuck you right then and there.” He picked her up and started walking to her bedroom. “Now, I get to be a good coach and teach you a thing or two.” He threw her on the bed, peering over her with hungry eyes and breathing heavily. “Will you be a good student and let coach fuck some knowledge into you, huh, baby?”
“I’ve never let you down, have I?” She answered him, looking up at him from the bed, her big doe eyes saying everything for her. “Show me how it’s done, coach.” She wet her lips seductively.
“Well, first, pretty girl, it’s important to get warmed up. You need help warming up, babe.” Art drags his finger from her thigh to her stomach and back down to her panties.  Slowly pulling them off. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he gazes up at her with hooded eyes. He kisses along her thighs, sucking now and then, making his way up to her sopping cunt. When he does reach her, he begins lapping at her like a man who’s been deprived of water for forty days and forty nights.
“Oh my God, Art, it feels so good.” She could feel herself getting short of breath. It was so good, better than anything she had fantasized about while taking the shower head for a spin. Grasping his hair in her hand, she can’t help but grind her pussy in his face, making both him and her a sloppy mess.”
“You’re so good for me; you've always been a fast learner, you know.” He pulled up, leaving trails of kisses as he made his way up and onto the bed. “My pretty girl,” he says, looking down at her with a smirk, his chin wet with her juices. He gets off the bed and starts to strip. His shirt comes up first, giving her the opportunity to get up on her knees and run her hands over his toned abs as she continues to kiss his neck. He follows with his. Belt slipped off his pants, his cock springing up, strained by his boxers. Katrina can’t help but feel her mouth damn near water. Pulling his boxers down, she lets a glob of her saliva leak on his cock before taking him into her mouth with a moan. Art only grabs her hair in his fist before letting out a deep moan and letting his eyes roll back. “Really got a mouth on you, huh, pretty girl.” He caresses her cheek. “Taking me all in.”
He pulls out, a string of saliva following, only to drip down from her chin onto her chest as he motions for her to lay back down on the bed. “You ready to get that pretty pussy fucked?” he leans down, sucking on her nipples. “You’ve warmed up enough, don’t you think?”
"Yes.” Its barley is above a whisper.
“What was that? You’ve got to use your words, Kat." He says, slightly pulling away from her lips, waiting for a better response.
“Please fuck me, Art.” She moans out, “I need you now."” She pulls him back down for a kiss, lining her hips up with his. He’s teasing at her entrance for a moment before she grabs his lower back and pulls him in the whole way. They both let out a sigh of relief as she felt her walls stretch around his length and he felt her wetness embrace him.
He’s fully thrusting now, with his whole strength, his hips snapping into hers with purpose. Grunts and moans are coming out of both their mouths.
"Switch,” she says, suddenly pushing him back a bit, only for her to get on top, grinding her hips in circles while riding him. “You’re so good, Art; you make me feel so good,” she’s breathless, guiding his veiny hands onto her chest. “I’ve ouched myself so many times fantasizing about this, thinking about how I’d take your cock.” She slips his fingers into her mouth, sucking on them for a second. “Even better than I dreamed,” she smirked. She could feel the pit inside her tighten; she was close, and she could tell that he was too.
She looked down at her and motioned for Art to open his mouth, and when she did, she let her spit trickle down into his mouth with a satisfied grin. That was it for him; after she did that, he started hammering on her mercilessly.
“Oh my god, harder art.” She says this with her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He obliged his vice like a grip.. Her ass was so hard, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it bruised tomorrow. His pace was uneven with labored breaths; he let out one loud moan before pulling out and cumming all over her stomach, some even getting on himself. She didn’t even have the time to process what happened before she was pushed onto her stomach. 
There he was again, nose deep in her aching pussy, only this time it was from behind, and he was going between her cunt and her asshole. Moaning into a pillow, it didn’t take long for her to finish all over his face, collapsing onto the bed, flat on her stomach.
After a long and hot shower, Art lay on his back, his arm around Katrina as they were in bed, enjoying the stillness of the night. The hotel room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow that created an intimate ambiance. Katrina's head rested on his shoulder, her hair cascading over his chest. It felt comfortable and natural, like they belonged there.
Art turned slightly to look down at Katrina, her face peaceful and relaxed. He traced his fingers gently along her arm, a simple, affectionate gesture that made her shiver slightly. It was a closeness that was rare for him, something he hadn't felt in years, and he cherished it.
"You're something else, you know that?" He said, his voice low and warm. "You've got this way of making me feel like I'm twenty again. I don't know what it is, but you bring out a side of me that I thought was long gone."
Katrina smiled, her eyes still closed as she nestled closer against him. "That's a good thing, right?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur.
Art chuckled, his hand gently stroking her hair. "Yeah, it's a good thing," he replied. "I really enjoyed tonight. It was... different from what I'm used to, but in the best possible way. I wasn't sure I wanted to get into coaching, but being your coach has been one of the best decisions I've made in a long time."
Katrina opened her eyes and looked up at him, her gaze warm and inviting. "I'm glad you did," she said. "I don't know where I'd be without you. It's not just about tennis—it's about everything else. You made me realize it’s not just hitting a ball with a stick."
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, a simple, tender gesture that spoke volumes. "You've got a lot of talent, Katrina," he said.
Katrina blushed, feeling a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the physical closeness. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft. "That means a lot coming from you. I feel the same way, you know. You make everything seem a little easier, like it's all going to be okay."
Art nodded, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just affection—it was a sense of connection, a bond that he knew was special.
Katrina sighed contentedly, her head resting against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, grounding her in the moment. She felt safe, secure, and genuinely happy. It was a feeling she hadn't had in a long time, and she wasn't ready to let it go.
Art tightened his arm around her, holding her a little closer. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the depth of their connection. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Katrina by his side, he felt like he could take on anything.
THE TOURNEMENT
Katrina woke up to an empty bed. The warm spot where Art had lain the night before had cooled, and there was no sign of him in the hotel room. She rubbed her eyes, feeling a twinge of disappointment. It was early, but she figured he had probably gone to start prepping for the tournament—they had a busy day ahead. It had been a long night.
She sat up, stretched, and looked around the room. Everything was in its usual place; nothing seemed out of order. Art's clothes were gone, and her things were neatly put away, almost as if he had never stayed there.
Strange
Katrina didn’t dwell on it. It made sense that he might have moved his things back to his room to get ready for the day. After all, he was her coach, and today was important.
She got dressed in her tennis gear, taking her time in the bathroom to brush her hair and freshen up. The uncertainty about where Art had gone was starting to creep in, but she pushed it aside. There was no need to get worked up—he'd turn up soon enough.
Katrina made her way to the living room and kitchen, expecting to find Art there, but he was nowhere to be seen. She checked her phone, but there were no messages from him. It was odd; usually, he'd leave some sort of note or text. She grabbed one of her pre-prepared meals from the fridge and ate it while waiting for him to return, her mind running through the drills they’d be doing later that day.
After what felt like an eternity, Art finally walked in, holding a cup of coffee from the café downstairs. Katrina felt a rush of relief. "Hey," she said, trying to sound casual. "You went out for coffee?"
Art nodded, but his demeanor was noticeably colder than usual. His eyes were distant, and his responses were curt. "Yeah," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. His tone was flat, lacking the warmth she had come to expect from him.
Katrina felt a flicker of anxiety. "Is everything okay?" she asked, trying to engage him in conversation. "You seem a little off."
Art shrugged, barely looking at her. "Just focused on the tournament," he said, his voice detached. "We've got a lot to do today."
Katrina felt a pang of confusion. This was a complete 180 from the night before. They had shared something special, something she thought was meaningful. She wasn’t expecting a proposal. But now he was acting as if it had never happened. So she pressed the issue.
"Art, why are you acting like this?" she asked, her tone edged with concern. "Last night was... well, it was nice. What changed."
Art set his coffee cup down, his expression hardening. "I'm being a responsible coach," he said, his voice cold. "You have important matches today. We can't afford distractions."
Katrina was taken aback by his abruptness. "Distractions? Is that what last night was to you?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.
Art sighed, rubbing his temples. "Katrina, we can't do this. You need to be focused. What happened last night." He stopped, choosing his words carefully. "It was a mistake, and I need you to be serious about this tournament."
Katrina felt a surge of anger and hurt. "A mistake?" she said, her voice sharp. "So that's it? We just pretend it never happened. You can't just switch like that!"
Art's expression was stern. "You need to act like you've got an important game today, because you do. And I have to be the coach you need, not something else."
Katrina felt her heart sink. This wasn't the Art she knew. The warmth and connection from the night before were gone, replaced by a wall of professionalism and distance. But there wasn't time to press further—they had to get to the court and start their warm-up drills.
The argument left Katrina feeling disoriented and hurt, but there was no time to dwell on it. She had to focus on the tournament, even if her coach seemed to have turned into a different person overnight. As they headed out the door, she tried to shake off the feeling, knowing that the game ahead demanded her full attention.
FIRST MATCH
The stadium was buzzing with anticipation as the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, introducing the players for the Challenger tournament. The crowd applauded as Katrina King and Alexis Grace stepped onto the court, each acknowledging the fans with a wave. Art Donaldson watched from the sidelines, his eyes focused on Katrina as she moved to her position.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first match of the US Open," the announcer said, continuing on.
Art knew it would be a challenging game. Alexis was a good opponent who could hold her own, but based on states alone, this should be an easy win, for lack of better words. Art felt a pang of guilt for how he'd acted that morning. He'd been cold and distant, trying to maintain professionalism, but it wasn't what he wanted. He wished he could go back and handle things differently, but now wasn't the time for regrets—Katrina needed his support.
The first set began with Katrina serving. She delivered a somewhat strong shot, but Alexis returned it with ease, sending the ball back with a blistering forehand. Katrina scrambled to keep up, her movements swift but slightly off-balance. She managed to return the shot, but Alexis was already at the net, volleying the ball with precision.
Art watched, his heart racing. Katrina had the talent, but he could tell she was getting into her own head. The missed points seemed to weigh heavily on her, and she was starting to lose her composure. He couldn't blame her—his behavior hadn't helped.
Katrina's next serve was strong, but Alexis anticipated it, returning the ball with a slice that landed just out of Katrina's reach. The crowd murmured, sensing the momentum shift in Alexis's favor. Art clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. He needed to be there for Katrina, even if she didn't want to hear it right now. Her errors were becoming more frequent. A double fault here, a missed volley there—it was starting to add up.
Art's internal thoughts were filled with frustration and guilt. He knew he had to do something to help her, but he also knew her head wasn’t focused on the game. As the set progressed, the tension in the stadium grew. Katrina's shots were becoming more erratic, and Alexis capitalized on every mistake.
Finally, the set ended with a decisive point from Alexis, securing her the first set. The crowd erupted in applause, but Art felt a sinking feeling in his chest.
Katrina King sat on the bench, her racket resting between her knees, and tried to catch her breath. The set break was supposed to be a chance to reset, to gather her thoughts, and to prepare for the next game, but she couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Her body felt tense, and her heart was heavy with doubt.
This match was supposed to be a warmup, and I’m making a complete fool of myself. She thought, scrunching her brows as she looked up at the sky.
Her hand gripped the racket tighter, the familiar texture offering a semblance of comfort.
A mistake
This morning kept replaying in her mind, each word like a weight pressing down on her. It had thrown her off and shaken her confidence. She couldn't understand why he'd suddenly turned so cold.
What the fuck did I get myself into? She wondered, feeling a mix of anger and confusion.
She glanced at the sidelines, where Art sat, his arms crossed, watching the court with a distant expression. He was focused, but not on her. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, and his detachment made her stomach twist. It felt like a betrayal, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was alone out there.
He's just a coach. I don't need him to win. I've been doing this on my own for years.
But the more she tried to convince herself, the more her emotions swirled. Last night felt like a turning point, like they were connecting on a deeper level. And now, all that warmth and all that understanding were gone. It left her feeling hollow and unsure of her next move.
Forget about this morning. Forget about last night. Forget about Art. Just play the game. That’s all you're good at anyway.
She couldn't forget, not when it felt like her world was shifting beneath her feet. The pressure of the tournament, the expectations from everyone, and now the unexpected 180—it was all too much. She needed to find her focus, but it felt like she was battling more than just an opponent on the court. She was battling her own doubts and her own insecurities, and it was starting to show.
The umpire's call signaled the end of the break, and Katrina stood up, her legs feeling heavier than usual. She couldn't afford to let this slip away. She had to find a way to center herself and regain the focus and determination that had brought her this far. But as she walked back onto the court, she knew it wouldn't be easy. The shadows of doubt were growing, and she wasn't sure if she had the strength to push them back.
The final set was about to begin, and the energy in the stadium was electric. Kat had lost the first set to Alexis, barely clawed her way back to win the second, and now faced the challenge of closing out the match.
A whirlpool of frustration was consuming her. She knew she should be playing better than this. Alexis was a competent player, but she shouldn't have been able to pressure Katrina like she was doing now. The missteps, the errant serves, the missed volleys—it was all spiraling out of control. She knew she had to get her head back in the game.
"Come on, Katrina," Art muttered under his breath, his frustration growing. He knew he should’ve never said what he had this morning, and God did he regret it. Not even because it threw her off her game, but simply because it wasn’t true.
I didn’t mean it, Kat.
Alexis returned Katrina's second serve with a deep forehand, forcing Katrina to run to the back of the court. She managed to get the ball back, but it was a weak return, and Alexis took advantage, hitting a powerful backhand down the line. Katrina struggled to reach it, her footwork sloppy.
The crowd murmured, sensing the shift in momentum. Katrina felt her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Get it together," she told herself, trying to drown out the negativity in her mind. She took a deep breath and prepared for the next point, knowing she couldn't afford to lose her composure.
Art clenched his fists, watching Katrina's struggle. He wanted to shout words of encouragement; right now, he needed Katrina to find her focus and to play like he knew she could.
The next few points were a back-and-forth battle. Katrina managed to win a couple of rallies, showing glimpses of her usual skill, but Alexis was relentless. Katrina's errors were piling up, and Alexis capitalized on every mistake. A missed serve here, a poorly timed volley there—it was all adding up, and Katrina felt like she was falling apart.
He knew he had to do something to help her, but he wasn't sure what. She was slipping, and he could see it in her eyes—the doubt, the frustration. He wished he could just rewind the morning and start over.
Katrina's frustration boiled over as she missed yet another shot, sending the ball wide of the sideline. She clenched her racket, her anger turning inward.
What the actual fuck kat? She felt herself slipping.
Art watched as Katrina's confidence seemed to crumble. Every point felt like a battle, and she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. The crowd's cheers seemed distant, drowned out by her own inner turmoil. She needed to find her focus and remember why she loved the game in the first place.
Katrina King stood at the baseline, bouncing the tennis ball as she prepared to serve. The pressure was immense. The score was tied, but this was match point for Alexis.
"Just get this right," she told herself, bouncing the ball one more time. "Keep it simple, focus on your form, and breathe."
She threw the ball up and swung, her serve powerful but lacking the usual precision.
The umpire's call was clear: "In!"
Alexis immediately raised her hand, signaling her challenge.
Katrina tensed, holding her breath. Fuck. She had already accepted defeat.
The electronic system, designed to track the ball's trajectory, sprang into action. The large screen above the court displayed the replay, with the lines highlighted in bold white against the blue surface.
The slow-motion replay showed the ball’s descent, curving slightly in its flight. It landed, from this perspective, millimeters inside the line, causing the crowd to murmur in anticipation. The pause felt longer than it actually was, with everyone waiting for the official verdict.
Alexis stood with her racket resting on her shoulder, her expression tense and unimpressed. She glanced at Katrina, who remained at the baseline, her stance rigid.
The electronic system confirmed the umpire's call: "In!" The word flashed across the screen, accompanied by a graphic showing the ball's exact position—just inside the line. The crowd erupted in applause, and Katrina allowed herself a small smile. She was relieved that the serve was good, but she knew she couldn't let her focus slip.
Alexis nodded curtly; her challenge was unsuccessful. She adjusted her grip on her racket, preparing for the next point. The moment of doubt had passed, and the game resumed its intensity.
Art saw Katrina's moments of ease, but he also saw the hesitation in her footwork and the slight tremors in her hands.
Alexis's return was a deep shot to Katrina's backhand, forcing her to pivot quickly. Katrina reached for it, but her timing was slightly off. The ball clipped the net, but it went over. Katrina breathed a sigh of relief as Alexis scrambled to reach it. and get her racket under the ball just in time.
The volley was clumsy, but it kept the rally going. Katrina's heart raced as she tried to regain her rhythm. She could feel the momentum slipping away, and she knew she couldn't afford another mistake. Alexis, however, was relentless, keeping the pressure on with precise shots to the corners of the court.
Art clenched his fists, chewing his gum while watching Katrina's struggle. He felt the intensity of the moment, knowing that this point could determine the outcome of the match. He wanted to find a way to ease her nerves, but all he could do was watch and hope she could pull through.
The rally continued, with Katrina barely managing to keep up. Alexis played a drop shot, and Katrina lunged to reach it. She got there just in time, but her return was weak, giving Alexis the upper hand. Alexis moved in for the kill, smashing the ball toward the baseline.
Katrina dove to reach it, her body hitting the ground as her racket connected with the ball. It went over the net, but it was a high lob, an easy shot for Alexis. Alexis jumped, delivering a powerful overhead smash that Katrina couldn't hope to reach. The ball hit the court with a decisive thud, and the umpire called the point.
Art felt a pang of disappointment as the crowd erupted in applause. He knew Katrina had fought hard, but the internal turmoil had cost her the match. He saw the frustration on her face as she stood up, brushing off the dirt from her fall. She glanced toward him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger, defeat, and tears.
Katrina knew she had given it her all, but it hadn't been enough. She felt the weight of the loss, knowing that her own doubts and the fight with Art had played a part in her performance. As she walked off the court, she felt a mix of disappointment and a lingering sense of confusion about what had gone wrong—both on and off the court.
Art made his way down to talk to Katrina. She was sitting on the bench, her head down, a towel draped over her shoulders. Art approached, trying to keep his voice steady. "Hey, it's okay," he said, his tone gentle. "It's just one game; you’ve got three more today. You can still turn this around. Just focus on your game, okay? Don't let this get in your head." He finished and tried to embrace her in his arms for some sort of comfort, but his efforts proved futile because before he could fully hug her, she pushed him off.
Katrina looked back at him, her eyes watery, cold, and distant. "Oh, now you're being supportive?" She shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. "What happened to the coach who was so concerned about being professional this morning?"
Art winced, feeling the sting of her words. He knew he deserved it, but it still hurt. "I know, I messed up," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.
Katrina shook her head, her expression hardening. "I don't need your fake support, Art," she said, standing up. "Just let me play my game."
“Kat, don’t be like that.” He said he was stepping forward, trying to get a hold of her.
“Be like what, Art?” she said, feeling her anger rise. “I shouldn’t act like you treated me as if I were a late-night tinder hookup.” She paused, her lips trembling. “I wouldn’t be like this if you would have had the human decency to treat me with a little respect, even if you regrated it!” She took a breath. “You know what the worst part is; you could have waited for the tournament to be over to shit on me, on us, like that. At least I would’ve left this stupid fucking weekend with a champion title and cup.” She started walking away from the locker rooms. “Guess once your balls are empty, you come to your senses, huh?” She hadn’t even bothered to turn around for the last bit.
"Kat, wait!" he said, grabbing her arm gently but firmly. "Please, just give me a minute."
Katrina turned, her eyes blazing with anger. "What do you want?" she snapped. "Haven't you done enough today? Did you finally decide to be a good coach?"
Art knew he deserved that, but he needed her to hear him out. "Just let me explain," he said, his voice desperate. "Not here. Let's go outside, away from everyone."
She hesitated, clearly still furious, but she didn't pull away. Art led her through a side door and out into the area behind the arena, where it was quiet and they could talk in private. He released her arm, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
"Katrina, I'm sorry," he began, his voice soft but urgent. "I'm sorry for everything I said this morning and for telling you it was a mistake. I didn't mean it. I was just... scared."
"Scared?" Katrina's eyes narrowed. "Scared of what? Scared of actually caring about someone? Scared to give up the overdone, nonchalant act you’ve got going for you?"
Art shook his head, struggling to find the right words. "I was scared that I was crossing a line," he said. "I was scared that I was too old for you and that being your coach and being with you would mess up your career. I was worried that we'd end up like... like me and Tashi."
Katrina's anger flared. "I'm not Tashi!" she shouted, stepping closer to him. "So stop comparing me to her; I'm my own person, and I'm nothing like her!"
"I know," Art replied, his voice gentle but firm. "I know you're not her. But that's what scared me. I don't want what happened to me and Tashi to happen to us. I didn't want to mess up your game, your career, or... anything."
Katrina huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, you sure did a good job of that," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Look at what happened today! I lost because you couldn't make up your mind about what you wanted!"
Art felt a pang of guilt, knowing she was right. "I know," he said, his voice low. "I was selfish. I shouldn’t have acted like I did. I just didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. But now I see that I hurt you anyway, and that’s the last thing I wanted." He is groveling.
Katrina looked at him, her eyes still blazing. "So, what do you want now?" she asked. "Are you just going to apologize and then go back to being cold and distant?"
Art stepped forward, taking her cheek gently in his hand. "I don't know what we are, Katrina," he said, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "But I know I don't want to stop whatever this is. It's special. You make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time, and I can't keep ignoring that."
Katrina's anger softened, her eyes searching for any sign of insincerity. Art felt the connection between them, the tension that had been building for weeks, and he knew he couldn't let it end like this.
"I was wrong this morning," he continued. "I was scared, and I acted like an idiot. But you... you're amazing. You didn't deserve the way I treated you, and I know the game today was my fault. You were distracted because of me, and I'm sorry. But I know you're going to win this. I believe in you. I always have, and that hasn’t changed."
Katrina's expression softened, her anger giving way to something else—something that felt like forgiveness. Art leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, his hand still gently cupping her cheek. She responded with equal intensity, her arms wrapping around his neck as they pressed against the concrete wall.
The kiss was long and intense, filled with the emotions they’d both been suppressing. When they finally pulled back, their breathing was heavy, and their eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding. Art pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before laying his against hers.
“Are you ready to bring another title home, pretty girl?” He says, gazing into her eyes.
She looked up, her eyes glistening with a familiar spark. “You wouldn’t have agreed to coach me if I wasn’t.” She held a soft smile, bringing him in for another kiss.
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tiyoin · 4 months
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what if alastor’s darling went to heaven 😧
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cw: heavy manipulation, heavy gaslight, alastor being alastor (whom is a shit stirrer,) poor charlie is getting caught up in alastor's schemes again
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he’s yandere (platonic or romantic, up to you idc, but I hc him as ace) ofc he’s gonna want you by his side for all of eternity!
maybe that’s why he wants to involve himself with the hotel. so he can get close enough to heaven, just so he can tear your wings off and drag you down to hell with him.
of course he tells charlie about you once she gets the go ahead for the meeting. he asks her to give you this letter if she has the chance.
vaggie strongly opposes this once she see’s husk’s reactions to the mentioning of you. husk, the brute stand-offish bar tender stilled. the bar counter he was busy wiping down left forgotten as his head snapped to alastor’s.
yet his eyes met vaggie’s
“don’t let her get that letter. don’t let alastor near her”
she got the message loud and clear.
about to take the letter from alastor, he flicked his fingers away as his head snapped to hers. her eyes widened.
charlie was too busy gushing about ‘alastor long lost ‘lover’’ that she didn’t notice the hotel’s atmosphere change. the sudden dip in temperature, and the distant sounds of horses.
his eyes stopped boring into hers and snapped to husk, who started cleaning with stupor.
“miss vaggie..” charlie had stopped her bit and joined back to the conversation. off handedly noting how cold it was as alastor handed her the letter.
“i do appreciate your eagerness” his eyes squinted “in delivering this letter, but charlie here” he pats charlie’s head “is the only one i trust to do the job.” he smirked. fully aware of the silent conversation the two employees had.
vaggie gulped, backing away with her hands in faux surrender as charlie once again told him that she wouldn’t let him down!
vaggie didn’t have a good feeling about this. you two were separated for a reason.
he was in hell for a reason
plus it was illegal for believers and sinners to have any kind of contact, as that would violate heaven..
vaggie knew she shouldn’t talk. let alone question alastor. but he was planning on committing a carinal sin.
clipping an angels wings and watching them fall was the worst sin of all.
vaggie couldn’t wrap her head around it. did he really love you? or was he bored and wanted to take being an ‘overlord’ to the next level. to do one thing a sinner, let alone a citizen of hell could ever do.
cause a fallen angel.
“shouldn’t you let her be? you could get her- us into serious trouble by giving her that letter. who knows what might happen. we could get punished and she could”
“fall?“ he finished for her, eyebrow quirked with that same cocky grin on his face.
“what better way to help our group of sinners than to have an angel to lead us to salvation!” his grin widened, yet she never once met his piercing eyes. he squeezed his fist to show emphasis; determination, if you would.
“my y/n is nothing but a saint who devoted themselves to helping people in their life. she was even kind to give dear ol’ me special attention-“
“gross” vaggie cut in, alastor eyes snapped to her for the briefest moment, his facade cracking the tiniest bit before he continued; “this establishment is certainly in need of their expertise if we want the hotel to successfully reform sinners!”
charlie’s smile faltered, “but… she’d be kicked out of heaven…”
forever
that word rang through everyone’s minds. like how lucifer gave the apple to eve, alastor snaked around charlie.
“it’s a necessary evil, is it not?” he questioned, one by one his claws fanned onto her shoulders, his head next to hers as he whispered: “think about all the people we could help, they could help. they should know better than anyone how people in heaven are, what they act like, how they get there-“ he leered at vaggie
“from their own personal experience of course! and it’s so cold and lonely at night without my precious” he sniffles, grabbing a handkerchief from one of sir penticols egg boi’s.
“but we want people to get into heaven… not kicked out” she trails off, suddenly thinking about her father.
alastor rubbed her shoulders before sighing. he detached himself from charlie as stopped in front of her, next to vaggie.
“very well then” he extends his hand mournfully to charlie, eyes locked into hers.
“then there’s no point in having you deliver my love letter anyway” charlie looks at his hand, then his face, before looking at the slightly crumpled letter.
“please, charlie, don’t make this harder for me” alastor continues, empathizing his hand.
charlie looks at vaggie, then to the letter, then to the door and finally at alastor.
“…i’ll think about it” she mutters quietly, tucking the letter into her jacket as alastor’s sad demeanor changes like a mask falling off.
“wonderful!” he grabs charlie and vaggie by the shoulders and starts hearding them towards the portal. yapping their ears off about how they’ll do amazing, and that heaven ‘won’t know what to do once they see you both.’
but vaggie continued to look back, husk’s slightly turned up face didn’t betray the emotion on it. one she never thought she’d see on him.
pity.
charlie left first, tugging vaggie in as she met alastor’s twinkling eyes, and shit eating grin as he waved.
alastor had won, and vaggie knows he’s going to get ready to celebrate his spoils.
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i edited it and added some more… things 🤭
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harunayuuka2060 · 3 months
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MC: Cerberus...
Cerberus: *crying and whining because MC made contact with another dog (Frost)*
MC: Cerberus, please don't cry... You're still my baby.
Cerberus: *bares his teeth* *growling a little*
MC: ...
MC: Pft— Just let me hug you, you big baby.
Ace and Deuce: *looking at Grim*
Ace: Uh, MC? I think Grim is sulking too. *mischievous grin*
Grim: What? No, I'm not!
Satan: *holding Grim* You know, whenever you're feeling jealous, you only need to remember that MC loves you and everyone else in the family.
Grim: Mryah! I said I am not sulking!
Deuce: So, has Frost already left?
MC: Ah, yes. *petting Cerberus* He will only show up if I summon him.
Lucifer: That's good to know. Since I dislike the idea of him being with you 24/7.
Simeon: *chuckles* MC, you should've seen Lucifer when he was whining too.
Lucifer: *frowns*
Diavolo: *laughs* Come on, Lucifer! No need to deny it!
Lucifer: *frowns even more*
MC: Luci...
Lucifer: What?
MC: *smiles* Do you want to go on a date?
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: Just the two of us?
MC: Yes.
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: I will check my schedule.
Satan: You have literally not done anything since we arrived in this world.
Satan: Schedule my ass.
Lucifer: I still need to look after you, you little shits.
Diavolo and Simeon: *laughing*
Ace and Deuce: Oh boy...
Cater: Guys~ Guess who I saw on a date yesterday~.
Riddle: Who is it?
Cater: *shows them the picture of Lucifer and MC kissing on a balcony*
Riddle and Trey: ...
Riddle: Cater, that is invasion of privacy.
Cater: Nah~ They saw me and invited me over to eat some snacks. I don't think they mind.
Trey: But still, don't show that to other students.
Trey: Especially Malleus.
Cater: ...
Cater: I might've already shown it to Lilia-chan...
Riddle and Trey: ...
Trey: I guess you can handle the consequences.
Cater: Don't be like that, Trey-kun!
Lucifer: What are you glaring at, Malleus?
Malleus: I am not glaring.
Lilia: *chuckles* He's just a little jealous.
Lilia: I had to remind him that it would be natural for you and the others to be intimate with MC because of the relationship you have with them.
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: *smirks* Well, it's natural for you to be jealous, Malleus.
Lucifer: As you will never know the taste of their lips or feel their passionate gaze.
Malleus: *glaring intensifies*
Lilia: ...
Lilia: I've been noticing it for a while, but why are you singling him out?!
Vil: Potato! Are those hickeys?!
MC: ...
MC: Vil, you startled me. *just woke up and went downstairs to go to the kitchen*
Asmo: Ooh~ Darling~ Did you enjoy your time with Lucifer~?
Vil: ...
Vil: Right. I forgot that you are married, Potato.
MC: Haha, no. It's fine.
Asmo: Didn't he go easy on you, darling? Your legs are trembling a little.
Vil: ...
MC: Asmo, babe. I will appreciate it if you stop pointing things out.
Asmo: Awwwww~ I'm just admiring your beauty~ There is nothing wrong with that~. *chuckles*
Asmo: Here, let me give you some aftercare~.
Vil: ...
Vil: I will be going back to my dorm.
Vil: And inform the teachers that you won't be teaching today.
MC: Thanks, Vil. *yawns*
Vil: ...
Vil: On the other hand, I think I will be staying here with you after informing the teachers.
Vil: I don't trust Asmodeus to be alone with you.
Asmo: Ha! In case you have forgotten, dear. *shows him his wedding ring*
Asmo: I'm married with them too!
MC: ...
MC: Barb.
Barbatos: *appears next to them* *smiling*
Barbatos: MC needs some rest, gentlemen.
Barbatos: I recommend taking this altercation outside.
Asmo and Vil: ...
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otaku553 · 7 months
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Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)
Here are the originals:
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If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!
So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.
Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.
The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.
Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.
Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.
Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)
Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.
And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.
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thegoldencontracts · 12 days
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Bodyswap With The Dormheads
I can't help but imagine the Prefect swapping bodies with the other dormheads...
Riddle, who is definitely struggling without his magic, and constantly trying to behead Grim. Meanwhile you'll definitely behead Ace at some point, maybe levy your power to try to make Crowley do his job for once.
Leona's suddenly stuck being poor and dependent on the headmage. Not a fun experience, to say the least. He'll come out of it with a newfound respect for you. And you'll get food! And Ruggie... Who's definitely gonna clock something's off.
Azul can't sigma male grind his way out of this one, I'm afraid. Back in that helpless position he was in before, only now it seems like he can't work his way out. It'll definitely be miserable, and he'll have quite a few spats with Grim. And you? Well, you'll get clocked by the Leech twins before you know it, I'm afraid.
Kalim flounders completely. He's kind, and wise in some ways, yes, but his circumstances mean he's never learned a lot of basic tasks. So having to take care of both himself and Grim in this unfamiliar place... well, it's pretty hard. He probably almost burned the dorm at some point. Meanwhile, you get more food, and Jamil's ire. There's a pretty good chance Jamil clocks you, but he also might just not care so long as nothing happens that he has to take the blame for. Afterwards, Kalim will definitely offer more in renovations, like he did after VDC.
Vil is appalled by the state of your dorm. He doesn't blame you, of course, you can't help the fact that the headmage is too incompetent to properly care for his students. Afterwards, expect him to try and help you with skincare and renovations more. He always wants to help people be their most beautiful, does he not? And you? Well... You'll quickly be met with the brunt of his self-imposed workload.
Idia's social battery is completely drained. He can't use his tablet anymore? And what's with all these normies? Why are they making fun of you for not having magic? And not to mention the terrible state of your dorm... Hey, at least he gets a cute kitty-cat to hang out with as consolation. And you, well, you appreciate the break from being bullied. Even if Ortho probably clocks you in an instant.
Malleus is rather shocked by your poor living conditions. How could you be treated so poorly? Are you not a student of this school? He really is rather confused. Your friends are rather fascinating though... Along with that little cat - no, monster of yours. And you get a powerful fae body, yay! But everyone fears you. Hey, is it really that much worse than dealing with mockery?
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getting drunk with them I Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo
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✢ content: fluff, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption
✢ characters: Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo
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Corazon is a light-hearted and affectionate drunk. He becomes even more talkative and open when he's had a few drinks.
He's the type to get lost in nostalgic stories of his marine days, or talk about his dreams and aspirations with you and little Law.
He might start singing or humming, and if you join in, he'd be absolutely delighted.
As a caring drunk, he's prone to giving you lots and lots of compliments, reminding you how much you mean to him. He might pull you into his lap or snuggle up to you, searching for the warmth of your body while he rests his head on your shoulder.
Corazon is also likely to pull you into slow, clumsy dances, and you'd both end up laughing as you navigate his tipsy waltz, being careful, so he doesn't trip over his long legs.
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Law's usual stoic demeanor takes a backseat when he's drunk. He becomes surprisingly expressive, much more relaxed, and most surprisingly, a lot more handsy.
He tends to lean into his playful and mischievous side, making witty comments and teasing you in a way that only a drunk Law can. If there's strong booze involved, he might even slip a hand along your thighs, giving them a firm yet loving grip.
Law might get a bit sentimental as well, sharing his deeper thoughts and feelings with you, which is a rare sight.
He'd challenge you to drinking games, displaying his competitive streak while still maintaining his cool facade.
If you get too drunk, Law would take on a protective role, ensuring you're safe, comfortable, and well-hydrated.
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Doflamingo's already flamboyant and unpredictable personality becomes even more amplified when he's had a few drinks.
He's likely to be the life of the party, engaging you with his charismatic way of talking and flashy dance moves.
Doflamingo's sense of humor gets a bit eccentric and twisted, often sharing dark jokes or anecdotes with a cheeky grin on his lips.
He enjoys being the center of attention, but he'd also make sure to dote on you and show you off to everyone around.
Doffy's already "horny on main," but a drunk Flamingo might be another challenge. He'd never overstep your boundaries, but you might have to reprimand him more than once when you find slim fingers cupping your ass.
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Smoker is a quiet and introspective drunk. He tends to sit back and observe the surroundings, lost in thought.
He becomes a bit more sentimental when you're around, often expressing his genuine affection for you and how much he appreciates you in his life.
Smoker might share stories from his past that he normally keeps to himself, allowing you a glimpse into his life before the Marines.
He's not one for grand gestures, but he'll subtly make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need for the night-out.
Smoker's tough exterior softens a bit when he's had a few drinks, and he might even crack a small, rare smile from time to time, especially when you're also a bit tipsy, inviting you to stay over at his place to know you're safe.
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Ace is a fun-loving and energetic drunk. He's constantly moving and looking for the next adventure.
He'd likely challenge you to various games or dares, trying to see who can handle their liquor better.
Ace's laugh becomes even more contagious, and he'll find just about anything hilarious, ensuring a good time for the two of you.
He might get a bit touchy-feely, always looking for excuses to wrap his arm around you or hold your hand.
When the night winds down, Ace would be the type to suggest stargazing or a late-night walk, wanting to make the most of your time together.
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Sabo is a sweet and affectionate drunk. He becomes incredibly attentive to you, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself.
He's likely to initiate deep conversations, discussing everything from dreams and ambitions to the meaning of life.
Sabo's protective nature might become more pronounced, and he'd keep a watchful eye on you when you've had one glass too many.
He's a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so he might get tipsy quickly, leading to a lot of adorable behavior.
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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months
Text
A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class
Head Canons!
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Professor O’Hara was an intimidating man, to say the least. Despite his menacing exterior, he came highly recommended and sought after as a professor due to his ability to clearly get the material across. At times, it felt cutthroat, but he only meant well. He was just very passionate about his job and wanted everyone to learn.
You didn’t think he was scary at all. In fact, that first day of lecture, you new you were doomed. All you saw was a poor, misunderstood, teddy bear of a man. You thought it was so endearing how his glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, or how he filled out his button ups and vests: equal parts of muscle and squish <3
n you totally stared at his huge butt and dick print oops what I didn’t say that what-
Professor O’Hara who’s scowl would melt away when you’d hurry into class, completely dismissing that fact that you were late. People who had him previously would be so confused that the Miguel O’Hara is stumbling on his own words during a lecture. Little did they know that it was because you, his very pretty and very eager student, was sitting front row and center. You’d fix your hair or apply lip gloss hoping you’d get his attention, and you succeeded.
Professor O’Hara thought you were so cute. He loved the way you dressed, the way you’d raise your hand and ask such good questions, the way you took notes, making them look equally as adorable as you. It didn’t help that you were a total ace in his class. Your brains n beauty were going straight to both of his heads……..
Professor O’Hara who although was naturally pretty distant and quiet with students, was trying very hard to be vocal with you, making sure to let you know when you were doing good. “Good job today, Mama.” “Thank you for being so involved in class today, mama, I appreciate it.” “Aye, Mama, make sure you get some sleep before the quiz tomorrow, mkay?” “Have a safe weekend, mama, and please, if you need anything, you have my email. It doesn’t matter what time it is.” and if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, he’d definitely leave notes for you when handing back your work <3
Professor O’Hara who now wakes up earlier and takes longer to get ready in the morning. For you. He would put on his most expensive cologne knowing you liked to ask for help. You’d smell it every time he bent over your desk behind you, enough so that the timbre of his low voice tickled your ear and his belly just barely grazing your back.
Professor O’Hara who was developing his own crush on you, even though it was definitely wrong. Besides, you were a model. He was convinced that even if he were a student, he wouldn’t have a chance with you.
Professor O’Hara who always felt his eyes gravitating toward you in the mass of seats when lecturing, as if he forgot what you looked like and needed to see your face again. You’d tilt your head n give him a smile each time he did, as if telling him you’re following along, and this rattled him. He’d smile back right before shying away from your gaze, clearing his throat and starting wherever he left off on in his lesson. You thought that was cute.
Professor O’Hara who was always there for you when you were troubled, his office becoming a place you frequented for comfort. He was a great ear, elbows on his knees and brows furrowed as he listened to your trials and tribulations. Pobrecita preciosa. He hated seeing you this way. His bear hugs always seemed to make the troubles go away.
Professor O’Hara who would praise you after seeing all the work you put into his class. Anytime you were stressed, he’d take you some place other than his office to relax, maybe buy you some tea or your favorite pastry. He’d take those opportunities to learn more about you, asking you in a gentle, sweet tone about your other studies, your goals, your life etc. he’d hopelessly fall for you even more when watching you speak about things you were passionate about, seeing how your eyes sparkled. He’d try to keep his composure by maintaining a stoic expression, but a small smile would crack every time. He was a melting mess.
Professor O’Hara who would keep all your assignments and reread them at home since you liked to leave him little notes like, “ So lucky to have you as a professor” “Amazing class today!” “Looking forward to our tutoring sesh tmw<3”, the curvy letters of your pretty hand writing feeding into his desires for you, those same desires going from wholesome to more lustful.
Professor O’Hara, who’s walls you break down with your kindness, intelligence, humility, and beauty. He’d play with your hair during tutoring sessions, buy you things that reminded him of you, call you ‘mama’ when no one else was around. He loved the way you knit your brows together telling him he shouldn’t be spending money on you as he’s already doing so much for you already, to which he replies, “You deserve it, and more, mama”.
Professor O’Hara who, when you stay after class to help him clean (because you volunteered to, otherwise, Miguel would never let you lift even a finger because you’re a princess), instead of picking up stray mechanical pencils, he would imagine you picking up stranded toys in the living room. He’d imagine what it’s like living life with you, having a life with you, then immediately shoo those absurd thoughts away after realizing he’s falling for you after only months of knowing you.
Professor O’Hara who genuinely cares about your well-being, wants to see you succeed and get everything you want and deserve. Who wants the absolute best for you.
A/n: Just some hcs before I continue the story…. I won’t edge y’all for long so just bear w meeeeee <3333
Tags <3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @ce3stvu @m4dyy @kaidxra
Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!!!
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sebscore · 10 months
Note
Can you write something with Kimi in his Alfa Romeo seasons and driver!reader? I miss him so much :(
GIDDY GOODBYES 
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pairings: raikkonen family x driver!reader
author's note: is this inspired by that cute antonio and kimi moment in abu dhabi '21? Yes. i miss him too :((
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''You want to swap helmets later?'' Kimi asked her, the sound of screaming and applauding fans surrounding them as they stood on the moving bus. 
Her eyes widened as the question left his lips, surprised that the Alfa Romeo driver would want to do the tradition with her. ''Uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.'' Her slightly open mouth turned into a bright smile. 
''Rianna has been asking for you the entire week so you can see her then as well.'' The Finn grinned. The female driver had been Kimi's daughter's favourite driver since the girl had started attending the F1 races. 
Y/N chuckled at his words. ''I'll bring some merch for her and Ace.'' 
''Really? That's very sweet, they'll like it a lot.'' Kimi appreciated all the time she would spend with his kids, knowing the joy it brought to them. 
''I love spoiling my fans,'' she smiled, ''as long as I get like a cool helmet from you, though! I'm very particular about my collection.'' 
The young woman was known for all the helmets of other drivers she had received over the years. She had proudly shown them off in a livestream after someone asked about the drivers she had swapped helmets with, even admitting she had to buy several extra shelves to store all of them. 
''I was told, I'll do my best.'' Kimi laughed, recalling someone from the Alfa Romeo team telling him about the driver's special collection as soon as he informed them about his desire to swap helmets with her. 
The Iceman didn't disappoint, gifting her one of his more unique helmet designs of the season with a short, but sentimental message written on the side: ''You've proven them wrong. Keep going. Stay smiling.'' His signature penned under it. 
Y/N had written a longer goodbye: ''Thank you for all the great races you have given us. It was an honour to share the track with you these last years. Good luck with your ice cubes, Iceman :)'' 
They mumbled a ''thank you'' towards each other as they handed one another their helmets, reading the messages with soft smiles on their faces. The pair posed for a picture together, their own respective team's photographers and Kimi's wife, Minttu, snapping a photo of them. 
''I'm gonna miss your silence.'' Y/N chuckled, causing others to do so as well. 
''I will miss your loudness.'' Kimi retorted, having everyone laugh even harder at his blunt and witty response. 
The Finn reached out to her with his free arm, initiating a hug with the young woman. She was caught off guard. The man had never offered her an embrace before- their physical interactions only going as far as a fistbump. 
She accepted, wrapping her own free arm briefly around him and resting her hand on his back. Kimi patted her own back a few times. 
The pair pulled back, satisfied smiles on both their faces. The Alfa Romeo driver crouched down next to his daughter. ''We will see her soon, okay?'' He reassured Rianna, who didn't take her eyes off the female driver as she absentmindedly nodded to what her father was saying. 
''You can visit me and we can eat a lot of food together.'' Y/N told the small girl. Rianna smiled brightly at her words, nodding her head. 
''Say bye bye to Y/N.'' Kimi whispered to her. 
Rianna stepped out of her father's arms. ''Bye bye, Y/N.'' The little girl skipped over to her, jumping into the older woman's embrace. ''Bye bye.'' Y/N kissed the side of Rianna's head, touched by the youngest Raikkonen's love. 
As the girls pulled apart, Kimi picked his daughter up- facing his, now, former competitor. ''Have a safe trip home, okay?'' 
Y/N nodded, appreciating his concern. ''You guys too.'' 
Minttu stepped forward, also offering the woman a hug. ''We wish you the best next season. We'll continue to root for you.'' She smiled, stating her support for the female driver. 
''Thank you so much, and have a nice Christmas together.'' Y/N said to her, appreciating that their family would continue rooting for her. She also high-fived a shy looking Robin who clinged to his mother. 
''We'll call, okay?'' Kimi mimicked a phone with his hand, looking at her. She nodded her head, delighted the man wanted to continue having contact with her. 
''We will.'' 
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Hello, I hope your having a nice day, can I request Yandere 1st Years + Grim (Platonic) with a Komi Reader? (From Komi can’t Communicate)
Reader’s known for being incredibly beautiful, intelligent, athletic and elegant in everything she does, however she has crippling Social Anxiety and ends up scaring everyone away with her ‘mean/scary’ look so everyone tends to avoid her (When it’s actually herself that’s nervous since she doesn’t know what to say)
Except for Ace, Deuce and Grim after they spent time with Reader in the mine, they discovered her anxiety she wrote it out so now they’re mostly the ones who do the talking for her and try to help her reach her goal of making 100 Friends in NRC, even though they both think that’s a ‘weird/bad goal’ because this IS NRC
Reader loves cats, so she spoils Grim and Lucius (The latter likes laying in her lap and even follows her around) with pets, treats and affection and helping her friends with studying since she gets perfect marks
How would they react to hearing Reader’s voice for the first time? Not to mention have Reader tell write out that she made a friend all by herself who visits her dorm at night and does nightly walks (You know who it is)
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Komi-San Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
You’re quiet and intimidating but not because others find you scary. The exact opposite, they’re obsessed. You’re athletic, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re kind, and the list goes on. Without so much as opening your mouth, the school is at its hands and knees all for you. Little do they know about your silent struggle, not like your dearest first-year friends. More than anyone they know how hard you work and if their hearts could overfill with love for you it already has.  So imagine your stalkers' friends; reaction to you’re never heard before voice:
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Ace Trappola
“Aw man, (Y/n) I can’t begin to explain how much of a pain he is! With his moodiness, we’re not going to win the game.”
“...”
“Don’t say that, I am great but not that great.”
“...Y-you c-can d-do it!” 
He plays 10x better 
All while running on his excitement and embarrassment
“Whoa, Ace! W-were you holding out on us!”
Everyone is floored that he’s suddenly just doing so well
He’s keeping your quiet cheers to himself 
Replaying it in his head
He will teasingly ask you for a recording even when you cutely shake your head
“Oi oi don’t get all shy now, you were doing so well!”
He does circle back having already written down the names of those who turned their heads
If they’re so inclined to hear your voice in a roaring crowd 
Then they should be alright with their ears no longer working 
He’s being merciful when he does just this
And if you mention any mysterious friends, he’d no doubt try to follow up on that same treatment
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Deuce Spade
“M-maybe being an honor student was too high of a goal.”
You shake your head
“Ahh I appreciate it, (Y/n) but if I’m going to flunk again I’ll be in trouble. Both with Riddle and my mom, I just can’t measure up. ”
“You…are a good student.”
He blushes 
“G-g-g-g-good j-job (Y/n)!”
He knows how much this is taking for you to try 
But he just can’t keep it together 
He’s among the first to hear your precious voice
He has to be the only one
He doesn’t know what this feeling is but he doesn’t want to share
It especially rubs him the wrong way when you mention a mysterious friend 
He decides to wait it out
See who this new friend he’s going to gut he has to meet
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Epel Felmier
“Grrrr I can’t stand it! Why can’t I be taken seriously? I just hate my face!”
“...”
“Don’t hafta lie ta me, (Y/n)! I know I’m not handsome.”
“...I….th-th-”
“Huh?” 
“I think you’re handsome.”
“Aw shucks, (Y/n)!”
He definitely wasn’t was expecting that
You’re just the sweetest as he predicted
He already keeps the notebook you’ve lost+ gone through with your written words
And the apple cores he lovingly retrieves from Ramshackle’s trash no doubt cultivating whatever ends up growing from them
He avoids the impulse to tear his book open at the mention of a new friend 
Well I hope they like a poison-apple
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Jack Howl 
“I have a magift practice later on…are you still going to come?”
You nod your head
“T-thank you, I’d appreciate your support from the stands.”
When he says that he doesn’t expect you to actually whisper anything out
“G-go Jack!”
His keen ears pick it up and suddenly he’s breezing through obstacles like never before
And of course, he did his mate practically cheered him on
It makes it much earlier to replay that encouragement when he’s fighting for your honor his ownership of you
No doubt Savvannclaw is filled with your admirers
But some are a little too bold
So leave it to your mate to take action first
And while he’s at it he might as well guard your home more intensely
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Sebek Zigvolt
“WHAT A MARVEL HUMAN! YOU’VE TAMED ALL THE FERAL FELINES ON CAMPUS!” 
“...”
“WELL FOR A HUMAN IT IS DECENT WORK! PERHAPS YOU DO HAVE–”
“C-can you please be quiet?”
“...?....!..Y-you think y-you, a mere human, can tell me what to do?!” 
Yes you can, having the loud half-fae go down two whole octaves was a feat
And he keeps replaying the moment in his head specifically the way your lips moved
Burning hot all over he’s not really listening to anyone for the next week month
But once he’s broken out of it he’s determined to repeat the miracle
And it seems it works best if your alone?
Then he’ll be sure to chase off the gaggle of scum+ admirers who you claim to be friends with
And he thinks nothing of a midnight friend…that is if you’re alone with them than that’s completely unacceptable
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Grim
“Henchhuman! Everyone is soooo mean! Why doesn’t anyone like me? I know I’m so cool and maybe that’s why–”
“I like you.”
“Well of course you w–W-wait did you speak? T-t to me! Whoopee, I’m going to tell everyone the great Grim is who you spoke to first!” 
He runs off to do just that 
Bragging to anyone who would listen
He has to dodge a lot of assassination hits that day
But it gives him the content whenever that icky feeling comes up sometimes
And as for your ‘Hornton’ friend he’s seen him and next time he comes around he’ll boast all about his greatness and how you spoke to him
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11cupid-tarot11 · 27 days
Text
Habits of your future spouse that might annoy you 😅
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1 -> 3
DM me for private readings!
$5.55 per question!
Tips appreciated
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Love y'all
- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
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Pile 1- Four of swords, Seven of wands, two of cups and Queen of coins.
So I'm seeing this person will annoy you with how closed off they are. They don't let their emotions show easily, it's hard getting this person to really settle down and be grounded. I don't think this person doesn't ever want to settle down, I think they're just scared of commitment but more specifically love, getting close to someone. Maybe they've been hurt by people before, rather it be an ex who left them feeling guarded or just walls being up because they think how cuel the world is, whatever it may be they feel they have to protect these feelings from everyone, and that will annoy you I'm assuming lol. You might not really understand this person's intentions at first, you might think they're disinterested or you wanting to move the relationship to a more serious level and they could be resistant, really confusing, like you just don't know what this person's next move is. But this energy is really frustrating! Like, either you love me or don't srsly man 😭 I see this person really does want you, they are serious about you and I think that scares them because again they're so closed off and guarded, but they really do worship you. They might think you're also out of their "league" I'm hearing, there could be some insecurities around their ego as well.
I'm mostly picking up on that and not much of anything else? I wanted this pick a pile to be a little longer but it seems this is all spirit wants to flow through for now lol.
I hope you enjoyed! See you next time, don't forget to do the pole at the bottom!
Other messages- Cancer, Pisces, 14, I'm sorry. (Seems like someone wants to apologize for something? I heard "I'm sorry" multiple times during this.)
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Pile 2- Ace of coins, Five of wands, The magician, Eight of cups in reverse.
This person tends to be fixed on money at times, it might annoy you how materialistically this person might be. I'm also seeing this person likes to take on battles on their own, will fight anyone on earth for you and you don't have to move fingernail, they like to try and be the solution to all of your problems and this will annoy, it could be you just hate how this person makes all of your problems their own to the fullest which is a nice trait to have but it's also not healthy. This person could have a hard time letting toxic people go, they have a bit of a people pleasing energy. With the Magician card I'm getting this person really likes fixing everyone's problems, having their "Aha!" Moments and that might really irritate you, you could help this person coming out of that energy and teach them it's okay to not be everyone's hero, that it's not their job all the time to give themselves away so much.
I hope you enjoyed this reading! Don't forget to do the poll below! See you soon 🩷
Other messages- Aries, Leo, Sagittarius.
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Pile 3- Three of coins, Knight of Swords, Three of cups and Five of swords
This person would rather sit in silence and struggle rather than ask for help. This person could like going out and partying a lot or maybe likes taking you on dates out doors a lot in crowded places, you could be more introverted than them so this annoys you a bit lol.
I think this person might have a temper they're still learning to control? Like I think they're a calm person but as soon as they get ticked off their words cut deep, and they know that actually.
Maybe this person has a lot of talent, you see a lot of potential in this person or they share lots of good ideas with you and it might annoy you that this person doesn't believe in themselves to finally turn their dreams into reality? I see you really want the best for this person so it might really annoy you that you know they're not giving it all they've got, you see how far they can go, they just need that extra bit of encouragement from you!
Hi! Hope you liked this reading! Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom please! See you soon! 🩷
Other messages- Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, blue, water, wings and 14.
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months
Text
Floyd: I want to play with Damselfish, but he's always busyyyy~.
Azul: That can't be helped. Yuurin is a model student and he has some responsibilities to fulfill.
Floyd: Eh~ But he's just a first-year, you know~.
Jade: Why not take on the role of a responsible upperclassman for him?
Azul: As if Floyd would do that-
Floyd: That's a good idea, Jade~.
Azul: Huh?
Jade: *chuckles*
Azul: ...
Azul: Floyd, please refrain from causing any trouble for us.
Yuurin: *is on her way to Professor Crewel's class*
Floyd: DAMSELFISH~~~!
Yuurin: ? *turns around* *and sees Floyd walking towards her*
Yuurin: Floyd-senpai?
Floyd: *when he's in front of her* *smiles* Where are you going~?
Yuurin: To Professor Crewel's class.
Floyd: Okay~. I'll take you there~.
Yuurin: No, it's fin-
Floyd: *scoops her up, cradling her effortlessly in his arms*
Yuurin: ...
Floyd: Eh~ You're surprisingly light, damselfish~.
Yuurin: ...
Professor Crewel and the rest of the students: ...
Professor Crewel: I see you both decided to come to class together.
Floyd: *is carrying Yuurin now like a teddy bear*
Yuurin: I appreciate the free lift, senpai.
The students: Wow... He can talk casually with Floyd...
Floyd: You're welcome~. Next time again~.
Yuurin: No. I'll be just walking by myself next time.
Floyd: Eh~? Why are you being mean to me~?
Yuurin: No, I'm not.
Professor Crewel: That's enough. Since both of you got here, why not be partners for the experiment today?
Floyd: Are you serious, striped beakfish~? *smiling*
Professor Crewel: Yes. I feel that you'll behave if you are with Yuurin.
Jamil and Ace: ...
Floyd: I'll be playing with Damselfish~!
Jamil: ...
Jamil: It's been a while since you visited the Basketball Club, Yuurin.
Jamil: Not even Ace could invite you after that.
Ace: H-Hey! He was always busy!
Yuurin: Yes. I couldn't find the time to visit. I'm sorry.
Jamil: That's alright. Everyone is aware that you're fond of the Equestrian Club more.
Yuurin: ...
Floyd: Ehhh~ What's in Equestrian Club~?
Yuurin: I have a horse there. His name is Aerion.
Floyd: Hmmm... You like animals?
Yuurin: Yes.
Floyd: ...
Floyd: Hehe~ Damselfish! Let's go to the ocean now!
Jamil: Huh?! Aren't you two here for the basketball practice?!
Ace: Y-Yeah!
Floyd: I've changed my mind~. Let's go, damselfish~! *dragging Yuurin away*
Floyd: *could tell that Yuurin enjoys playing with the lemon sharks*
Floyd: *swims next to her* They're friendly, aren't they?
Yuurin: *looks at him*
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *nods*
Floyd: Hm? Why are you just nodding- Oh, right! I didn't give you any potion to breathe underwater!
Yuurin: *just reads his lips* *gestures to him that it's fine*
Floyd: Oh... *smiles* How long can you stay underwater?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *signs to him that she can stay underwater for 30 minutes*
Floyd: Eh~! THAT'S SO COOL~!
Azul: Floyd, you're NOT going to take Yuurin on another underwater trip again.
Floyd: Ehhh~? Why not~?
Azul: Leona yelled at me on the phone.
Floyd: And that's my problem~?
Azul: You-
Jade: How did it go, Floyd?
Floyd: Hehe~ I really enjoyed my time with him~.
Floyd: He promised that we will play again together with the lemon sharks~.
Jade: Oh that's good.
Azul: No, it's not!
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kalki-tarot · 6 months
Text
Love & Career in 2024 🖤🍷💸
@kalki-tarot
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I'll be using tarot cards and my own intuition so it may not resonate with everyone. Keep in mind that this reading is purely for entertainment purposes so be mindful of your own actions and choices. I'm not responsible for any decisions you make on behalf of my readings.
Pick a pile masterlist 🖤
Pile 01
8 wands, 6 wands, page of swords, queen of swords, knight of pentacles
Hello beautiful souls 💓
Let's talk about your career first. I'm seeing you getting praised or popular very fastly. If you're manifesting something career related then it's your sign it's gonna enter your life soon! You'll get a promotion at your workplace and if you're still studying then I'm seeing you're gonna be the top student of your class. Everyone will praise you and you'll be in Everyone's talks and gossips about how did you achieve it.
If some things got stuck or stagnant then a change is coming soon. All this stagnant energy will flow away and new creative and inspiring energy will lead you towards success my dear pile 1. Don't worry just be consistent and your efforts will be recognized and appreciated very soon.
New ideas will be put into action or will be manifested in reality. If you wanna start a new course then it's the right time to do so. I'm seeing communication for you too. You'll get new opportunities and will make new contacts and connections in your work life which will help you alot leveling up more.
Your overall energy is the Queen of swords which tells me that this year, you'll just focus on your goals and won't spend too much time thinking about the bs. Your plans would be clear cut and will be put into action. I'm not seeing you procrastinating or smth like that. It's a very fast, quick and easy going energy, but stable throughout.
New opportunities on the way! I'm seeing you getting a job letter or something like that. If you're struggling with getting a job then an opportunity is out there in 2024! So be ready ♡
2 wands, 8 wands, 9 pentacles, Temperance, 6 swords, 9 swords ( 5 pentacles, the devil, 4 pentacles, the moon, 5 swords)
Woah! You know what pile 1, we need to let go of some things before before it's too late. We need to let go of things even if it hurts only for our own good. The bad or good news is I'm seeing you breaking up or finally letting go of a toxic relationship or love. You've held it in for so long and in 2024, I'm seeing you releasing all of that. It's better to leave than being left out in the cold, right?
2024 is the year of a fresh start and ending the cycles. It's the year to relax and heal. It's great that you're walking away from such people. I know it takes a lot of strength and courage to do that and you have the guts to leave someone so toxic and unhealthy for you. I'm not necessarily seeing someone new entering in your life. I'm seeing YOU, choosing to walk away from this situation.
You'll know that the grass is greener on the other side. You'll explore new things in love. Maybe go on a few dates? By the end of 2024, you'll be balanced spiritually and physically. You'll be properly healed and you'll discover much more about yourself rather than other people. It's necessary to know ourselves before trying to understand some one else. That's it for you, please reblog this post if you liked it. Thanks ♡
Pile 02
3 of swords, page of pentacles, ace of swords, 6 of wands, the devil, 8 of wands
Career wise, Things may get a little rocky for you this year. But don't worry, with extra caution and mindfulness you'll be able to thrive through this. The advice I'm getting for is to not take any shortcuts for success to come fast, as it'll only result in your own downfall.
Be careful of people who look very nice and popular as they're not what they seem from their outer side. Just focus on grabbing opportunities and working truthfully for yourself and your loved ones. Your creative energy would be at peak this year, it's time for you to realize your potential and work with it next year.
Your 2024 is the year to hustle hard so be dedicated to your work/study. Lot's of success will be at your door if you don't fall into any traps.
Knight of cups, wheel of fortune, 9 of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, the hermit, 7 of wands ( 9 swords & 8 pentacles )
Wow babe! You've done lots of healing and lot's of self care in 2023! And now it's the time for love finally coming into your life through divine intervention in 2024. As we have the wheel of fortune here, I'm seeing You've finally let go of the old cycles and karmic patterns.
The old thinking patterns and attachment wounds will be healed. You'll fight your way through this very powerfully. You've done a lot of self introspection and self discovery in 2023.
You are one step ahead of pile 1, you're asked to just go with flow and let the universe guide you through the vast ocean of sadness to the never ending love. A romantic, water sign energy may approach you with love 👀 next year. Abundance and clarity will flow through just don't complex your emotions any more. Trust your intuition and let it guide you.
That's it! Pile 2 ♡ If this helped you a little bit please comment and reblog xoxo
Pile 03
The magician, Temperanc, ace of wands, 8 wands, ace of cups, the fool (king of cups)
The year 2024 will bring you lots of emotional satisfaction in terms of your career. You would be a successful person, but with the right actions and decisions. Create a path for yourself and walk on it. You should have the desire amd commitment if you wanna achieve something in life.
In 2024, there is a need for you to have a clear mindset snd step wise approach. Do everything in a proper balance. Good things take time to manifest. Your dedication and ability to stay composed under pressure will help you stand out.
Whatever you're thinking about, go for it. Just "go for it", don't think too much if that gives you happiness. Whether you've been thinking about launching a project or reaching out to a new networking connection, 2024 is the time.
Next year would be an year of swift progress and rapid growth. Everything will seem so fast and would gain momentum. You may even travel for work.
Something would be headed your way in your professional life, whether that's a new job, a new responsibility within your current role, or even a new business partner or connection, a new and promising path may be opening up.
You'll overall enjoy this year in terms of your professional or career life.
10 swords, 2 of wands, knight of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, queen of swords, 5 of wands, the tower ( 9 swords, 7 cups, magician )
Listen pile 3, to be honest 2024 would be rocky for you, you know. I channeled that you should not go alone in clubs or pubs or take any drinks with strangers. Be careful guys.
For some of you I'm getting that you guys are just staying single this year and focusing more on your self growth and options in love. You may solo travel or go on solo dates. You know loving yourself and all.
You may actually reach out to a therapist if your experiences were not so good in love before. If not, then I'm seeing you reaching out for yourself, my love. You're giving yourself the love and warmth you've never received from anyone else. You're now, not letting bs people get into your life and make a hell out of it. You're tryna stay healthy and happy.
For some of you, there's an advice of manifesting new love in your life. Get into that mindset. List down all the qualities you want in a partner and visualizing would also help you.
I'm seeing a divorce for some of you, or even a legal matter that involves a person you once loved. They probably lied and deceived you. You may fight for yourself in the court this year. Sending Lots of hugs and love to you dear if this is happening to you. Stay strong and you'll be more blessed. 💓✨️
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