hyperactive teenagers


Some recent updates from Fuchino Yuuto (Noya).  

He spent about half of his most recent blog post complaining about the upcoming rainy season (he apparently really really really hates it) and is spending his off-day playing games and playing games and playing games.  

Give me domestic!dad!Tony and his spider son

Give me casual gifts (new camera, schoolbooks paid and Aunt Mays car fixed)

Give me Tony fetching Peter from school and taking the scenic route to the Tower/Compound

Give me lunches at greasy diners and Donuts for desert (don’t tell your aunt)

Give me Peter having access to Tonys living quarters and workshop, his stuff showing up in odd corners (school books on the kitchen table, a sweater draped over a workshop chair, a comic pushed under the couch)

Give me Tony teaching Peter about engineering and mechanics, showing him his projects and the inner workings of the Iron Man suits (happy to make time for the curious teenager nothing like Howard Stark)

Give me Tony patiently helping Peter with homework or a project that just won’t turn out like it should (please, please you’ve GOT to help me, the deadline is TOMORROW)

Give me Peter filling Tonys (quiet, lonely) living space with overly dramatic recounts of boring school days, excited nerd talk and hyperactive, superpowered teenager antics

I need this

in the grand scheme of things, my heartache was made out of the framework of a hyperactive teenage mind. it was fashioned out of the scaffolding of repeated rhyme schemes and off-tempo murmurings. my suffering was man-made. but it’s still mine, all fucking mine.
the church bells that clang outside my bedroom window shake my body until i feel the cold slither of a soul that is not mine seep and intertwine into my rib cage. until i speak in tongues with my tongue wrapped around words that were never meant to be anything but daydreams.
 there are pills in one hand.
there is terror in my eyes.
there is a black pit inside my stomach.
a burning in my esophagus.
there are pills down the sink.
there is a body, lying on a bathroom floor, in the fetal position.
i run faster than the wind, faster than the shouts that caution me to slow down, faster than my mind has time to process the feeling of my feet hitting the sun-baked concrete. my teeth rattle upon impact. my hair wraps itself around my necklace. my heart seizes, stops, and then keeps beating.
suburbia can kill, ya’ know.
lack of love can really fuck you up until you’re spewing blood all over your brand new church shoes.
this is what loss can really do to you.
—  12 STEP PROGRAM // k.m.
Markhyuck Headcanons
  • If you asked Mark who his favourite dongsaeng is he would probably tell you it’s Chenle or Jisung because they are cute
  • If you ask Haechan who his favourite hyung is he would probably say Doyoungie because he puts up with his playfulness and, despite being 4 years older, is secretly just as immature as Haechan is
  • Their members always expect them to pick each other as the favourite hyung and dongsaeng because Mark and Haechan are inseparable, have always been joined at the hip since trainee and rookie days
  • But, even though in every sense, Mark is hyung by 10 months and 4 days, the two have never seen each other in a hierarchical fashion, but as equals
  • Which drives Mark crazy sometimes because he’s the leader of Dream but it’s hard to enforce his authority as the big brother when the fourth youngest (or fourth oldest, depending on how you want to see it) knows that he functions on the same level as Mark
  • Like when he’s trying to be serious and round up the buzzing, hyperactive group of teenagers but they all ignore him in favour of following the second-in-command Haechan, as he runs around in a whirlwind of energy and noise
  • Or when he’s doing the best he can to sound professional during their little talk shows, and Haechan breaks in with a smartass comment that makes everyone lose their composure and laugh
  • But Mark can’t help but laugh along with Haechan’s dimpled smiles even though he knows he’s failed at looking cool and in control, because he knows Haechan’s words have no bite behind them
  • And it’s a widely known fact among all the NCT members that Haechan has literally zero respect for his Mark hyung
  • Like the time Haechan chased Mark around the 127 dorm, cursing way too much for his age, with a slipper because Mark finished his favourite shampoo
  • And no one bothered to intervene because they’re called the Tom and Jerry duo for a reason, always bickering
  • The chase only ended when Haechan slipped on a shirt some member had left on the floor and bumped his head against the kitchen counter
  • Although Mark had been furthest away, he was the first to run back while shouting ‘Oh my god’ as the other members crowded around to baby their Maknae
  • They made up afterwards when Mark gave him the last chocolate bar from his candy stash

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thenonehater  asked:

Have anymore yoga headcanons for Black Hat ? 'Cuase I feel he'd o er hear these moms talk about their hyperactive teenagers and be like ' Bro you too ? This girl be cray cray' Hence Black Hat learning what ADHD is and how to handle dementia better.


  • Just a disclaimer: I don’t really know that much about ADHD, so i’m just (going with what some of the websites i’m looking at have told me, sorry if any of this is inaccurate!! I’ll do my best;; )
  • Black Hat walks in one morning, sets down his mat and starts stretching out a little getting ready before instruction begins.
  • (let’s see how many generic white suburban mom names i can come up with)
  • Karen sits down next to him. “morning Mr. Trueba” “I told you, just Esteban is fine.”
  • (Flug was the nerd who came up with BH’s fake identity kudos if you get the reference)
  • “Hey Chloe!” “Hey Karen, hey Esteban!” “….Hi.” Black Hat has very reluctantly been inducted into the Circle of Moms. More and more of them show up; they all chat amongst themselves while stretching. BH keeps to himself mostly but nods along with what they say. everyone thinks he’s just shy
  • in reality he’s taking careful mental notes on the conversation. To improve his human disguise, ofc. thats TOTALLY the reason why he “politely” asks Samantha to tell him how she makes her workout smoothie. He doesn’t care about human food recipes what no shut up–
  • “Oh! And Alex is finally following the house rules we set up.” “Really? That’s fantastic Mary!” Black Hat perks up. This sounds interesting
  • “I wish I could make Owen listen to me like that. He’s always so hyperactive, I can’t ever get him to stay still.” “Have you tried more positivity, Rachel? Like, instead of saying what not to do, you say what he did that you liked?” “Actually, no. You really think that will work, Wendy?”
  • “Excuse me” Black Hat fucking interrupts. “you mean your kids are also over-energetic nightmares?” “Esteban, you have kids???” “…..Sure.”
  • he basically starts listing off Dementia’s characteristics and all the moms start sagely nodding. one of them tells him that she could have ADD or ADHD and he goes “There’s a fucking NAME??”
  • “Have you taken her to see a doctor?” “uh. i know a doctor.”
  • “And she’s always running around like that?” “Yeah. I was thinking of getting a leash, do people make those?” “UM. NO.”
  • black hat ends up taking notes on what they’re saying and bringing them back to flug, who spends the better part of an hour explaining that no, he’s not that kind of doctor–
  • BH ends up getting a lot of tips on how to treat Dementia and its like a switch flips. She suddenly seems to listen more, its a goddamn miracle. (Oh the magic of not yelling angrily to get what you want)
  • He gives quiet, short warnings instead of loud angry threats, and they’re even more effective! And still mildly horrifying!
  • Flug is amazed when he sees BH give Dementia short, clear instructions, asks her to repeat them back, and that she actually goes out and does whatever it is, with only minimal property damage! so proud

i didnt know if i should write anything about fidget spinners or not so im just gonna leave it there haha

On Buns and Ovens (5/?)

[Part 1]  |  [Part 4]

[Read on AO3]   where you gets proper formatting, and Mando'a translations and no issues with cuts

“What’s wrong with Padmé?”

Kix looked up at his general, startled by his sudden appearance and almost violent outburst. He hadn’t been particularly stable since Ahsoka’s abrupt departure, but Kix had hoped that her staying on Coruscant, close by, might have mitigated that.

“Wrong, sir?” Kix asked in genuine confusion. “Nothing that I know of. She’s not commed me to say there’s a problem.”

“A problem with what?” Skywalker hissed, and Kix groaned. He knew they had shipped out pretty quickly, but it hadn’t been that quick. Had it?

(No – they had still been planetside when Rex had come to see him and Jesse to work through his issues following Ahsoka’s departure. Because safe or not, their trust in the Jedi Council had been shaken to its core, for all of them.)

Kix shook his head. “I can’t say any more, sir. Medic/patient confidentiality.”

“So there is something wrong with her?”

“Sir, I really think you ought to speak with Senator Amidala yourself,” Kix said, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing, but with that edge that said he wasn’t shifting from his stance of confidentiality.

There was a glint in Skywalker’s eyes, and a stubborn set to his jaw. “Kix, I…”

“You can’t order me, sir,” Kix interrupted, anticipating where his general was going with this and letting the fuel out of his engine before he could even get going, “because I’m bound by medical ethics, and you don’t outrank me in here. Now go away before I sedate your ass, and talk to your wife.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How would the 2Ps react having some hyperactive childish teenage boy, whom is their neighbor, always hanging with them no matter how they think of him and he suddenly calls them 'Daddy' (not in a sexual kinky way, but in a platonic way), but soon find out that he doesn't have a good father figure around his life and the 2Ps are somehow the closest thing he has a father figure?

(Omg this ask- its adorable. May gods bless u anon)


2pAmerica/ Al: A kid always hanging around with Al? Al doesn’t like him to stick around since he always gets himself into trouble, and everyone sees Al as the “bad influence”. Yet he thinks of the child as his own little brother. When the kid says “Daddy,” he would tease the kid, not taking it seriously. The moment he learns the truth, welp Al Iis gonna take a kid under his wing. He asks Oliver for guidance  but refuses to let Oliver take away the kid. Guess Al is a father now.

2pCanada/ Matt: He’s not good with children due to his silence, but he’d let the kid hang around. Matt has to remind Kuma many times that the kid isn’t food. He would freeze up when the kid said, “Daddy,” and ignore it. Though when he learns the truth, this kid somehow has a new room in his cabin but let the kid decide where he wants to live. Doesn’t wanna deal with his father, and slowly let the kid into his life. Next thing you know, he’s the one signing the kid’s parents permissions and brings the kid to whatever family event Oliver hosts.

2pFrance/ François: “What are children?” Oh boy, he would not like this kid to stick around. He already fucked up when he “raised” Matt. Would definitely stop smoking when the kid is around,,, which is always. So he’s gonna be more grumpy. Would have an “Oh shit” moment when the kid says, “Daddy.” He would take him to Oliver when he learns about the kid’s father. If the kid is stubborn on staying, would live with Oliver since he still can’t get over the fact how he is the better father figure.

2pEngland/ Oliver: He would adore the kid, already spoiling him and treating as his own child. It’s no shock to anyone when the kid calls him, “Daddy.” Except Oliver is thrilled, you could see his eyes light up. Though when he learns about the kid’s father,,, wait why does Oliver have adoption papers- whaat the fuck im not even done writing- okay the kid is now adopted. This guy calls everyone about his new son, and spoils the kid rotten.

2pChina/ Xiao: A hyper kid + hyper older kid (lets be real, Xiao ain’t an adult) = disaster. He wouldn’t do drugs when the kid is around, but if the kid drops by unexpectedly,,, someone take Xiao away from the child. When the kid calls him, “Daddy,” he would not let it down, though prefers if the kid calls him brother as “father” makes him sound like an old man. When he learns about the kid’s father, he would be so conflicted on what to do. He is not ready for a kid. Would call Kuro for help, and welcome the kid with open arms he is screAMING inside

2pRussia/ Viktor: He is not good with children, and very concerned how the kid’s parents let the kid stay over when its fuckin 1 am. Starts teaching kid random knowledge and suddenly a child knows the basics of physics w h at the fuck- Though when Viktor hears the word, “Daddy,” he is shook. He did not expect this, and asks the kid if he truly feels that way. Finally believes the kid when he learns about his father, and would be conflicted. This kid melted his ice-heart, and consults the father for his adoption. If the father says no, then let the kid stay at his home for however long.

2pGermany/ Lutz: He and the kid would definitely click. Loves messing around with kids, but never consider having one. So that being said, he wants to cry out of happiness and fear when the kid calls him, “Daddy.” Would joke around and acts more father-like, but took him days to figure out how the kid’s father isn’t parent material. Definitely let the kid stay until the someone notices, and gets yelled by Luciano when he brought the kid to a country meeting.

2pPrussia/ Gilen: *Flashbacks to raising Lutz*. Fragile boi is confused on why the kid hangs out with him. Would be a concerned Mother Hen, always panicking if this hyper kid got into DangerousActivites™ like crossing the street. When the kid says, “Daddy,” he would start crying out of happiness. Always think he fails as a big brother, but now this kid thinks of him as a father figure? He would gladly accept. When he learns about the kid’s father, would be scared to talk to the father about letting the kid stay over. Pretty quiet about having a newly adopted kid at this house, so never gets caught and the kid lives a happy life.

2pAustria/ Roland: Why the kid sticks around with him, no one knows, but everyone is concerned. This kid would have a nocturnal sleeping schedule, and Roland would try to kick the kid out of his house whenever Roland is practicing black magic. Keyword: try. Roland’s house almost blew up when the kid calls Roland, “Daddy,” and Roland almost dropped a magic bottle lmAO RIP. He would be so fucking cocky and feel proud that the kid thinks of him as a father figure. Doesn’t even consider the kid’s actual father as he illegally adopts the kid. Though when he learns about the kid’s father, would place a curse on the guy for “not taking good care of his favorite henchmen”

2pItaly/ Luciano: Luciano would try so hard to scare the kid away. Yet doesn’t actually harm him, more so twirling knife and tries to look intimidating, but lmao this only makes the kid be more interested. Does not know how the kid gets past security, but is paranoid about the kid getting hurt cuz of his enemies. Hearing, “Daddy,” from the kid, Luciano would flip out on the inside and thinks it’s a joke. He let the kid stay overnight but contacts his father. When he learns about the kid’s shitty dad, welp Luciano hires a nanny to help take care of the kid. Lowkey trains the kid like he’s going to inherit the mafia.

2pRomano/ Flavio: Would allow the kid to hang out, even let him assist in his fashion industry. When the kid calls him, “Daddy,” he would be so happy but prefers the kid to call him brother. Calls Luciano to tell how he has a new brother, definitely changing the kid’s clothing so fast. Learning about the kid’s father, welp Flavio now has a new room installed in his apartment. Would try to keep the kid away from his dad since he didn’t speak to him about this adoption.

2pJapan/ Kuro: God, Kuro would try to ignore the kid when he starts hanging out. Overtime starts to tolerate the kid, and hides all his hentai. Would question where the kid’s father is, and chokes on his tea when the kid calls him, “Daddy.” Looks at the kid with judging eyes, “Nani?”. Very scared and contacts the kid’s father, and learning about the kid’s father, would sigh and take responsibility. Gets adoption papers as well, not even consulting the kid’s father.

2pSpain/ Andrés: Andrés refuses to let the kid worm their way into his life- ah fuck too late. He would grumpily let the kid hang around, overtime tolerating the kid more and more. When he hears the kid call him, “Daddy,”,,, Andrés would say “Fuck”. Now he has to take care of a kid, great. Surprisingly really chill about it, and has experience when raising Flavio. Has moments where he wants to pull his hair out from the kid’s hyper energy, but learning about the kid’s father, would quickly adopt the kid. Try his best to not let everyone know, gotta keep his ColdHeart™ reputation.

anonymous asked:

Personality swapping strain strikes Totsuka and Yata, and now Totsuka cussing and kicking things while Yata all calmly smiling and understanding? :D Esp Suoh and Fushimi reactions please!

Let’s just take a moment to enjoy the mental image of Totsuka yelling and cussing people out, just imagine Mikoto’s expression when Totsuka tries to get him to come participate in a hobby and is finally like ‘Why are you so fucking lazy, you stupid asshole King?’ So say this is when Fushimi’s still in Homra, maybe there’s been an issue with a Strain trying to attack some of the Homra guys and just as a precaution Yata accompanies Totsuka out on a shopping trip. They’re late returning and everyone’s getting a little worried, including Fushimi even though of course he’s trying to just act like he’s annoyed at Yata for dawdling. Finally Fushimi’s like ‘I guess I’ll go drag that idiot home,’ all bored sounding to disguise the fact that he’s super concerned. That’s when the door opens and Yata walks in with Totsuka at his heels, Kusanagi sees the two of them and gives this relieved sigh like hey you two worried us you know. Yata gives this carefree smile and is like 'don’t worry so much, Kusanagi-san, everything will work out fine~’ while Totsuka goes over and swears at Mikoto for being too fucking lazy to get off his ass and come find them. Everyone exchanges 'what the fuck’ glances and Yata’s like 'oh, by the way, we got hit by a Strain power but I’m sure it will be fine~’

So for the rest of the day everyone has to deal with tempermental Totsuka and super chill happy Yata. Fushimi is probably so creeped out and would like his Misaki back, especially since Yata’s probably being a lot more intuitive than usual and keeps giving Fushimi these looks and then asking him pointed questions about his feelings that Fushimi really doesn’t want to answer. Like Fushimi decides to go back to the apartment early and Yata’s all 'if you want to that’s fine. But, hey, Saruhiko…are you really fine going back there all by yourself?’ Fushimi clicks his tongue and is like yes now leave me alone, ready to have the Misaki who just smiled and assumed whatever Fushimi was doing was best back. Mikoto and Kusanagi meanwhile are torn between being amused by Totsuka and being so done with him, like on the one hand it’s kinda amusing to see Totsuka grab random Homra members and be like 'if you assholes step on my hobby again I’ll kick your ass’ but on the other hand Mikoto is ready to have the quieter Totsuka back. Imagine Totsuka getting even more into his usual hobbies too, like instead of quietly enjoying them he’s cheering and being all 'fuck yes that was awesome’ and it’s like please calm your hyperactive teenage temperment. Also imagine when it’s just Homra’s top three together Totsuka’s like slapping everyone companionably on the back and talking about how awesome the three of them are and Mikoto and Kusanagi can’t help but smile a bit and ruffle his hair because it’s kinda cute seeing Totsuka so eager.


Teen Wolf Au:

Derek has been haunting the Hale house for years before Stiles manges to get himself killed there. He doesn’t want to share his space, especially not with some hyperactive teenage ghost, but the universe has other plans for him.

(It’s maybe not so bad)

“Derek!” Stiles crows happily, like nothing could be better than haunting the same space as him. Derek does not share the sentiment.

“Look, I get that we’re stuck together, but don’t start pestering me with stupid questions. I am not here to be your death guru. I am not your spirit guide”

“Sure sure” Stiles is nodding like he understands, but Derek is not convinced. The silence lasts maybe three seconds before-

“….Hey Derek?”

Derek heaves a deep, unnecessary breath, prays for patience. “What.”

“Can ghosts still get it up?”

Gonna be a long eternity

a shitty ghosts au because halloween and stuffs

anonymous asked:

panic attack kiss or s6 kiss ??💖😘

LISTEN,,,,, I know I asked for this but WOW RUDE. What I love about both of these kisses is they both contain a moment where we see absolute wonder in Lydia’s facial expression. Like in the panic attack kiss we see that moment where Lydia is just like oh, when it comes to Stiles and she realizes she has actual feelings for this hyperactive teenage boy and it takes her completely off guard. And then in the s6 kiss she has the look of pure happiness and awe at what just happened. And I just love the sameness, and yet the contrast of these two moments.

I just— you can’t make me choose between these, you just can’t

Law PART I: Headed for a Breakdown

Title: Shuddup & Drive

Bi-line/Summary:  After what might be considered as an early midlife crisis, Trafalgar Law does what any sane person would do—quits his job, rents a fast car, and leaves it all in the review mirror in favor of driving across the continent. Now all he needed was a partner in crime–but who else would be crazy—or desperate—enough to tag along? (M/M LawLu)


Anyone can hate their life—even a Surgeon. How do you fix this? Well, if you’re Law, you can impulsively QUIT your current life, rent a fast car and drive it across a continent. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to pick up a hyperactive, teenage stranger to take with you.

Genre: AU, Romance/Comedy/Adventure

Characters: Law/Luffy with Penguin, Shachi, Ace & Sabo and others.

Rating: M for language, adult situations, possible violence and general male shenanigans

Warnings: Good question. Hmm, let me think on it…. 

DISCLAIMER: I have no ownership rights with either One Piece or its Characters. Those belong to Eiichiro Oda. I’m just the crazy lady listening to the voices, acting out dialogue in the shower and spending most of my life staring at blank pieces of paper.

*A/N: For a certain little Monkey who helped to inspire and motivate me—even going as far as to help with the monotonous editing when I was so tired my eyes crossed

So, thanks.

For listening to all my bullshit, especially the 3 A.M. bullshit.

You fucking rock Anea. Hope you like it.




CH 1: LAW Part I: Headed for a breakdown


Trafalgar Law, was a Surgeon.

A Cardiothoracic Surgeon who specialized in open heart transplants, one of the best and most sought-after specialists on the continent. He was renowned recognized by the NWMA as one of the top experts in his field. This was not ego, this was fact. Also, a fact, he had more doctorates than any other Surgeon currently employed at North Blue Regency Hospital short of Board President Vegapunk himself.

He was only 26 by the time he was 21, he’d already been published in ‘The New World Medical Journal’. Twice.

And what did all of these facts add up to?

About forty-five minutes, spent calmly explaining that a having a pacemaker did not defend against double cheeseburgers and one diagnosis of Gastral Esophageal Reflux Disorder—AKA acid reflux.

Law mentally cringed.

Junk-food. Mortal enemy of cardiologists everywhere.

Processed foods and Trans-fats were truly the bane of Law’s existence. How many tired, morbidly obese patients had filtered through his office over the years with their coronary arteries clogged to death with fatty plaque deposits? Repeat offenders, that’s what those in the Medical field referred to them as. Law’s list in particular seemed to be a mile long lately.  Pearl Krieg had just been the latest example.

Law placed his latest repeat offender’s file firmly in the “seen” pile, but hesitated to pick up the next one, finger poised on the edge of the overstuffed manila folder.

Of course, all of this wasn’t to say that Trafalgar Law didn’t still love his job. Because he did.



Or, at least, it was sentiment that felt like it should’ve been true, had been true at some point, and undoubtedly if asked he would have testified that it still was.

But, then there were times like now. Days like today, that made him doubt his sanity in becoming Surgeon, and made it difficult to remember exactly why anyone would voluntarily suffer through years of medical school for an existence like this.

Overworked and sleep deprived, with nerves like shredded tissue paper— If Law’s morning went any further south, Satan was going to start charging him rent.

Law took his hand off the file, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples where he could feel a headache slowly throbbing away.

He hasn’t been home in over two days, surviving off shitty cafeteria food and the minimal rack time he’d managed to steal in the on-call rooms. He’d gotten out of two extensive back to back surgeries at three A.M. this morning and has been seeing patients one after another ever since.

The Surgeon fought to muster every last ounce of professionalism he had left, but with each step it was getting harder and harder to maintain his mask of clinical—but attentive—indifference.

Honestly, the only thing Law could think about at present was his desire to collapse on the nearest comfortable surface so that he could sleep for a week.

He could feel his expression slipping.

Turning his back on the patient’s files, Law made the executive decision that he needed to get off the floor. Stat.

He found himself detouring to the nurse’s breakroom rather than the doctor’s lounge (that would have required passing by the receptionist’s desk, which was a whole other can of worms Law had no interest in opening), not that it mattered. For Law, the designation itself was insignificant. All that really mattered was the full pot of hot coffee that would be waiting on the counter.

Caffeine was an essential part of every medical professional’s life support system.

If junk-food was indeed his mortal enemy, then coffee was Law’s best friend

Pushing open the door and entering what he’d initially thought was an empty room, he was momentarily disappointed to catch a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye—until he saw exactly who it was.

It wasn’t really all that surprising that he hadn’t noticed the man when he’d first entered. After all, Penguin had mastered the fine art of invisibility long ago.  Though he wasn’t much shorter than Law himself, his shoulders had a casual way of slouching forward that appeared to greatly diminish his presence. His appearance itself was completely, and utterly average. Average messy dark hair, unkempt and without sheen, the color of coal dust as opposed to Law’s own glossy blue-black. Average face with an average smile. In fact, the only thing that did stand out were his eyes, particularly their unique coloring.

They were a combination of blue’s, crystal shards of color that ranged from pale arctic to midnight, all of which were pieced together in an eerie stained-glass effect. Every time you thought you’d grown used to them, the colors would shift, like a living kaleidoscope.

If eyes were the window into one’s soul, then Penguin’s were like a window into your own.

Truthfully, it had taken Law himself some time before he’d been able to maintain eye contact with the man. Though there were still times when the other male’s gaze was a little too intense for comfort. Those same eyes, the ones he tended to hide behind cheesy novelty hats while not at work, were now following Law in unveiled interest.

But out of the two people he actually could stand in the hospital, Law was grateful that it was Penguin and not Shachi, because at least the Dietitian had enough self-preservation not to ask until AFTER Law got his coffee. Too tired to try and mess with the cream and sugar, he took it straight black, slouching back against the counter, taking cautious sips and grimacing at the sharp and bitter taste.

It wasn’t like he drank it for the flavor anyway.

There was one other thing worth mentioning about being alone with Penguin though.

It went without saying that Shachi and Penguin together was never a good idea, but at least Shachi was too bullheaded to be anything but straightforward—Penguin, the deceptively mellow one, had a sneaky, underhanded tendency to get into your head, until you were spilling your guts before you’d even realized that your mouth was moving.

Most conversations with the Dietitian were similar to a game of chess. Law sipped his coffee, calmly waiting for Penguin’s opening move.

“You look like shit.” And there it was, round one. Point blank.

“Your face looks like shit,” Law fired back without any real heat.

Penguin chuckled. “Have you SEEN your face lately?”

Law grunted, scratching his jaw at the annoying three-day old stubble, a constant reminder of how tired and overworked he was. He was definitely rocking the grunge look more often than not lately. He knew he looked rough. His skin had managed to achieve an unnatural shade of pale that was quite impressive—considering his natural complexion was more of a copper-tan. And even he had to admit that the dark smudges under his eyes–which were so often mistaken for eye liner—had grown undeniably deeper than usual.

“Who was it this time?”

Against his will the surgeon could feel the mask slowly slipping off, and it was like shedding an outfit that was dangerously tight, the relief of being able to breathe without constriction.

“Krieg,” Law groaned, melting into the chair opposite of the Dietitian. The same Dietitian who was currently hoarding monstrous sized bag of M&M’s—the kind normally reserved for children, teenagers and menstruating women. He even had the gall to tip the opened end of the bag in Law’s direction. The surgeon disdainfully eyed the bag filled with its little surgery coated artery cloggers. Really Pen?

Honestly, if cheeseburgers were at number one, then candy was a close second on the heart doctor’s shit list.

“So, Pearl’s back?” His friend smiled good-naturedly and took back the offering, popping another handful of the rainbowed candies into his mouth. “How much damage did our little bowling ball manage to do this time?”

“Twelve pounds.” Law complained, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. “Twelve pounds in two weeks! The man mistook indigestion for a myocardial infarction.” The surgeon sighed, “You’re going to have to talk with him again.” For what little good they both knew it would do. It was the unfortunate business of being a medical professional, you couldn’t save someone who wasn’t interested in saving themselves.

“Yeah, yeah,” Penguin replied flippantly. He’d get to it eventually. “Speaking of crazies, saw your stalker out there today.” His friend’s eyes were once again locked on Law’s, “Psycho-Sadie still giving you trouble?”

Law scoffed. He wished that was his biggest issue at the moment. While undeniably annoying, as long as he didn’t let himself get locked inside any storage closets with the woman, he’d be good.

“She’s harmless​.” Mostly.

“Careful man,” his friend cautioned. “The way that woman looks at you—I can’t tell if she wants to screw you,” Penguin shook his head, “—or take you to church and spank you.”

Law snorted. “You’re just assuming it’s not both.” Simultaneously—If he had to guess. The Surgeon, sadly, had some personal experience in this area. Unfortunately, he hadn’t always been so particular about his bed partners in the past. The decision to go ‘Psychosocial’ back in college hadn’t exactly been Law’s most shining moment. Thankfully he’d been better about it in med school. Nowadays, he could always spot those special kinds of freaks in a literal heartbeat, and knew well enough when to keep it in his pants.

Law sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. "Why’s it always the crazy ones?” he asked, not even registering that he’d spoken out loud until Penguin was answering him.

“It’s the night-of-the-living-dead look you’ve got going man,” His friend paused, and seeming to think for a moment.  “And the tats,” Penguin snickered. “Definitely the tats.”

Law scoffed. Like there was anything he could do about that. The time for THAT intervention would have been back in high school when he’d gotten the damn things. Not that he regretted it. Even if, sometimes, having the words “DEATH” branded across your knuckles did make life a bit more difficult.

Especially as a Surgeon.

“But for real dude,” Penguin continued. “You look half-dead. I’ve seen bodies bagged and tagged that looked healthier. Seriously, when’s the last time you saw actual daylight?”

“You’re a damn Dietitian,” Law chose to ignore the dig about his appearance. So maybe he looked like a fucking zombie, so what? Not like he had anyone he needed, or wanted, to impress. “—where’d you ever see a body?”

“The morgue.” Penguin blinked, like, Duh, before tossing back a few more M&Ms.

Law rolled his eyes. There went Shachi abusing his doctors badge again. God. He was friends with such freaks. But then, maybe that just went without saying. Before he could start harping on things like morals, or common decency, Penguin headed him off. “Go home. Eat something,” his friend insisted, with an expression of genuine concern. “—sleep in your actual bed for once.”

“Can’t,” Law grunted. “I’m the only hospitalist on-call. Plus, I’ve already got an overbooked schedule.” Which had little to do with short staffing and everything to do with Caesar being the one in charge of admissions and they both knew it.

“Just tell the assclown to shove it,” said Penguin between mouthfuls, looking exasperated—as if saying such a thing to your boss was the most reasonable thing in the world. “We both know your more than capable.” Which was true. It wasn’t like Law was in any way intimidated by the man. His friends knew that, if pressed, Law could go toe to toe with the devil himself, and Caesar Clown was nothing more than a bigoted, self-important, well… assclown.

Law gave his friend a flat look.

That was different though. This wasn’t just about Law’s ability to pick fights with any authority figure—regrettably, his two friends were more than well acquainted with this compulsion—that was the outside world. Work was work, and he had an obligation. An ethical responsibility.

He must have had that look on his face—or maybe it was because he’d spent so much time lately making the same excuses—because his friend seemed to have read his mind, waving him off before he could start.

“This is a hospital you know. There are other doctors here,” Penguin leveled him with a look that was unusually serious. Even though the Pediatrician wasn’t, in all likely hood, even on the floor—they didn’t get a lot of kids in the cardiac department—he could still hear the redhead being channeled through his normally more reserved friend. “You’re not going to be able to help anyone if you end up your own damn patient.”

The corner of Law’s mouth curved as he offered his friend a small, albeit a tad rusty, smile. “I thought lectures were Shachi’s area.”

Penguin smirked. “We’re switching it up,” Leaning back in his chair, the man folded his hands behind his head, looking completely unrepentant.   “—he says you never listen to him.”

“Well,” Law sighed, taking another sip of his coffee before muttering, “—he’s not wrong.”




Luckily, Law only felt like he was dying. Out there, only a few meters away and down the hall, there were plenty of people, sitting alone in the cold and sterile rooms—with real, potentially life-threatening illnesses—who might actually die if Law continued hiding out in the break room instead of doing his damn job. Thankfully this fact was still enough to give the surgeon the strength, and motivation he needed to put the mask back on and re-enter into the chaos that had become his daily routine.

Maybe Law wasn’t such a lost cause just yet. Even if he did hesitate in in the doorway, just for a moment, before gritting his teeth and stepping back out on the floor, shutting the door behind him.

Passing by the receptionist’s desk, he didn’t even glance across the counter—he didn’t need to see in order to feel the woman leering at him with that repugnant sneer. Personally, he’d take those looks any day when compared to ones she tossed his way when she believed no one to be looking. Those were the ones that tended to make his skin crawl.

Grabbing the thick manila file outside the door, Law had to keep reminding himself that his real work, his true professional obligation lay beyond the horrors of endless of paperwork and creepy judgmental receptionists.


Laws real job–what he’d actually suffered through medical school, residencies, and internships for—was so that he could save fucking lives. Taking a breath, Trafalgar Law opened the door to his next patient under the belief that his day couldn’t possibly get much worse.

Apparently, the universe did not agree.

If there was one thing Law hated beyond the idiots who couldn’t be bothered to try and save themselves—it was the attention seeking, over privileged, self-centered sorts idiots he was too often forced to deal with.

The queen of said idiots—and current bane of Law’s earthly existence—Kalifa Powers, was now sitting before him, perched high and mighty on the exam table in her patient gown, with her six-hundred dollar Gucci pumps swinging off the side.

Law froze in the doorway, fighting the compulsion to back out and retreat back to the sanctity of the nurse’s break room.

“It’s about time,” The woman’s overly painted features scrunched together in annoyance. “I’ve already been here over an hour. Do you always keep your patients waiting like this? Did you know that no one has even come in to check on me? No one, not even a nurse. What would you have done if something had happened? I could have been laying out on the floor and nobody would have been the wiser. What sort of hospital is this? Do you even care about your patient’s well-being?”

God, did the woman ever breathe?

Law could feel his eye beginning to twitch. Against every instinct he had to walk out and slam the door behind him, Law instead stepped forward, cracking open the manila file to begin reading off the series of test results. Results he could have recited in his sleep by now.

“EKG’s clean, pressure and heart rate well within normal range, chest X-rays negative, blood tests say that all your cardiac markers are well within a healthy range.” Law calmly informed the woman, carefully making sure to let no emotion into either his tone or his expression. “You’ve been hooked up to leads that’ve been monitoring all your vitals, if you’d have been in distress our staff would have been immediately notified.”

“Are you saying that this machine is an acceptable substitute for an actual human being?” The woman scoffed. Law wanted to roll his eyes. Of course she’d feel that way, machines couldn’t give the same attention that people could—the attention she was seeking as opposed to actual medical assistance.

Keeping his expression relaxed became an exercise in self-restraint

“I’m saying that we take our patients safety as our top priority and that if at any point your well-being was at risk then an actual human being would have been here along with our rapid response team and a crash-cart.”

Not that that would’ve been an issue, considering this woman was perfectly healthy.

The one thing her blood tests had shown, was a decline in hormone levels. Taking into account her age and her symptoms—the hot flashes, night sweats, trouble sleeping, flushing, mood swings—the woman wasn’t having cardiac issues, what she was experiencing was textbook menopausal denial.

But no, rather than acknowledging that her biological clock was ticking, she’d chosen instead to parade around the hospital, playing victim to a cardiac crisis because—GODanything was better than an overprivileged socialite having to admit she’d struck middle-age.

Law sighed, wanting to rub his temples where he could feel a migraine building. “There’s always stress testing.”

“You mean making me run on a treadmill like some lab rat?” The woman made a haughty sound that had the veins in Laws forehead beginning to pulsate. “I don’t think so. Are you trying to kill me?”

Well look who’s been reading WebMD. Apparently, she’d missed the part where it said stress could be alternately achieved through drug induction, but who was Law to correct the little internet scholar?

Maybe if he hadn’t been so dog tired, he might have noticed the shifting of the rooms atmosphere, but as it was the woman’s next words caught Law completely off-guard.

Kalifa Powers was giving the surgeon what he could only assume was meant to be a coy look. “I was thinking, something along the lines of…” the woman arched her back as one professionally manicured nail tip slid down the neckline of her smock, “–a more hands on examination?”

Law froze.



This was new—new and fucking disturbing. The woman’s voice had a sickly-sweet lilt to it that did NOT bode well for Law’s mental wellbeing. The ridiculousness of anyone trying to be sexy while wearing a damn hospital gown was so insane he almost laughed.

The Surgeon warily eyed the shameless display of chest and could feel his gag reflex starting to kick in. The only way he was going anywhere near those monsters, was with a scalpel in his hand.

For surgical purposes, of course. Law after all, wasn’t the psycho here.

He was just the psycho catnip.

What was with these women? He was a damn doctor not some kinky sex toy. Was it some kind of—literally—crazy pheromone thing?

Maybe he should have himself checked out.

Otherwise the next scalpel he picked up really might not be for medical purposes.

“That would be completely unnecessary.” Law stressed the word, meaning every bit of it.

The woman’s expression froze, perfectly penciled brows scrunching together in disbelief, before twisting into a sneer.

“What kind of Doctor are you?” To Law’s relief, the venom was back in her voice. Really, anything was better than that disgusting saccharine attempt.

“Overly certified and in the wrong department,” Law could feel his irritation broiling just below his surface, which was what he’d later blame for the lack of impulse control that followed. “—what you need is a psychologist, not a goddamn surgeon.”

The words were out. And did he regret it?

Well, no, not exactly.

It was true. As an expert, Law could confidently attest that the woman’s heart was indeed perfectly healthy—It was her head that was the problem

She gasped, blood rushing to her face. “Excuse me?!”  

But Law ignored the woman, continuing to talk over her, because that was it. This woman needed some shock therapy, and that was something Law felt he was more than qualified to give.

“You’re unexcused,” Law smirked mirthlessly, “—but if you really feel like pushing this, there’s always option of exploratory surgery and I have a free table this afternoon, shall I schedule you in?”

His words seemed to throw the woman off balance. Good. But Law wasn’t finished yet.

“I don’t think that’s necess—“

“Let me explain exactly what it is I do here,” the Surgeon immediately cut her off, “—because you seem to be under some mistaken impression. This is the cardiac floor, I am a cardiothoracic surgeon, a specialist in open heart surgeries. If you really want to go down this road here’s exactly what’s going to happen,” Law closed the manila file, snapping it shut as he took a step closer into his patient’s space, his darkening aura causing the woman to unconsciously lean back and away.

“Once you’re under I’ll start with a lateral incision, dissecting your torso from the base of your neck to your naval, after which I’d be able to first peel back the upper and lower dermis—that would be your skin—once that’s been clamped back and out of the way I’ll be able to start retracting the layers of fatty tissue and muscle to get to the ribcage…”

The woman’s already pale complexion blanched even more until she was practically a match for the overly starched scratchy hospital sheets that were currently beneath her overprivileged—and more than likely surgically enhanced—ass.

“—from there I would use what you would call rib splitters, steal retractors with a manual hand crank, that’s how I’ll crack open your sternum to expose your vital organs, some of which will have to be shifted aside or temporarily removed if we’re to get to your heart, because that’s where you’re sure the problem lies right?”

Mrs. Powers turned impossibly whiter, skin now a sickly translucent color and started looking like she might just hurl. Or maybe pass out. The woman opened her mouth, probably to offer some sort of outraged protest, but the Surgeon wasn’t done with her just yet.

“Technically speaking protocol for open heart surgery is fairly similar to that of preforming an autopsy,” Law’s mouth curved in a sinister display of sharp teeth. “But don’t worry, unlike pathologists we always put our patients back together properly. If all goes well you’d only be looking at a recovery time of six to nine months, though of course as with any highly invasive surgery there’s always a low risk of infection. Now that can get ugly…”

The woman made a small choking sound, it seemed to take a moment for her to recover her voice. Her arrogance appeared to have drained out along with her coloring. “You can’t just—I… I mean y-you… “

“I’m sorry, does this mean you’ve changed your mind?” Law’s grey eyes went ice cold. “If so, then go home. Delete WebMD from your bookmarks, lay off the Gray’s anatomy, and quit wasting everyone’s damn time.”




He couldn’t suppress the slight, smug sense of satisfaction he was feeling. It’d been a good while since Law had intentionally frightened another human being, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the woman hadn’t deserved it.

The feeling lasted all of ten seconds before he realized his grievous mistake.

Unfortunately for Law, in his sleep deprived state, he had forgotten to shut the door when he’d entered. Thus, apparently leaving the entire hospital privy to his little outburst. Any other time he would have been appalled at his slip-up, (Doctors never forgot to close the door when giving a consultation, it was a clear-cut violation of a patients right to privacy) but right now he just couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn.

Stepping out into the hallway, Law was hardly surprised by the large audience that seemed to have gathered. Techs, Nurses, PA’s—all stood frozen in the hallways, rather than being in patient’s rooms as they should be. Some were loitering around the receptionist’s desk—Pyscho Sadie included.

Had he really been that loud?

Law took a step forward and that seemed to be the signal for them to scatter, faces ducked down, eyes cast anywhere but in Law’s general direction. In fact, only a certain Dietitian—leaning hip cocked against the hallways guardrail—was still purposely looking at him. Penguin, eyebrows slightly raised but otherwise unruffled, seemed to be the only one not shocked by the sudden turn of events.

Law went to shut the door behind him, but changed his mind, the damage had already been done. Besides, he doubted Mrs. Power’s would be staying long after his little demonstration. Hell, she was probably just waiting for him to leave so that she could escape without having to physically pass him.

He closed his eyes forcing himself to breathe in a pattern meant to foster mental clarity. The effort was ruined when he hears his name called out in what had to be one of the world’s most annoying voices.

Doctor Trafalgar,” Caesar Clown, the bastard who rarely ever stepped out on the floor, seemed to have miraculously emerged from his office and was now standing at the reception desk, eyes bugging. “My Office. Now.” The man turned on his heel, white lab coat billowing behind him.

Law sighed, well aware he’d just shot himself in the foot

On his trek down the hall, Law passed by Penguin, who coughed up a sound that sounded suspiciously like “Assclown” before giving him a meaningful look.

Law pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a slow deep breath before nodding his head once. “Right.” As he walked down the hall, the Surgeon couldn’t help but feel like a child who’d been called into the principal’s office.




The unit director’s office smelled like a mixture of hand sanitizer and black licorice stemming from the large dish of disgusting candies on his desk. He was always popping the revolting things into his mouth like some sort of addict.

“You insulted that woman,” Caesar Clown’s twisted, yellowed eyes lit up in barely concealed glee at the prospect of punishing Law. It was obvious that the man was ecstatic to at long last, finally have something to hold over the young Surgeons head.

“I did no such thing, I just stated the facts.” Law took a slow breath, and he thought that maybe he was trembling, but if he was, it was from pure, repressed outrage. “That woman is an ER delinquent that spends nearly as much time in this hospital as I do and by some godforsaken miracle always manages to find her way into my patient list.”

“That woman, Mrs. Power’s, is a highly valued client.” Law noticed not even Caesar was acknowledging the woman as an actual patient—client indeed. “Her husband is a huge contributor to this hospital; do you have any idea how much he’s donated this year alone?”

Law’s spine was stiff enough to snap.

There was a fine line between exercising one’s freedom of speech and a full blown mental breakdown, and right now Law knew, he was precariously balancing on the thinnest part of it.

“Well then, if her husband should ever come around I’ll be sure to thank him—but unless Mrs. Powers is requesting an STD screening, whomever her bed partner may be, is completely irrelevant to her treatment. Furthermore, that woman is a textbook hypochondriac. I’m not a counselor nor am I some kind of drug dealer, I’m a damn surgeon. She doesn’t need me, she needs a damn therapist.”

“Just because you’re the hospital’s board of director’s golden child—”

Law rolled his eyes, more like the golden goose. He couldn’t even begin to calculate how much revenue he’d earned this godforsaken place. He wasn’t just a cardiothoracic surgeon, he was a cardiothoracic surgeon who specialized in freaking heart transplants. People flew in from all over the country seeking his expertise, his reputation as one of the best brought in high profile, high paying patients who never would have stepped into this hellhole otherwise. This was not Law being egotistical, these were the goddam facts.

“I’m a goddamn cardiac transplant specialist, that’s my job, that’s what my contract says. I’m not here to deal with heartburn and head cases, that being said, I don’t mind helping with the surgical work load when necessary—but anything short of that is a goddam waste of my time and effort!” Law’s eyes snapped open widely as the words came out of his mouth, not because he regretted them but because they were so fucking true. It was like some higher power had reached down and flipped some internal switch and said ‘now let there be light’.

The realization hit him like a sucker punch to the face.

He WAS wasting his time—God, he wasting his LIFE. Why the hell had it taken him so long so realize this? How long had he felt this way? For someone who was supposed to be a genius Law felt like the world’s biggest dumbass, second only to the assclown on the other side of the desk.

Well fuck that shit.

Calmer than he would have though himself capable of, Law pulled back the lapel of his lab coat digging out the two little demon devices he was always forced to carry, and tossed both the hospital phone and his pager onto Caesar’s desk. “I’m done.”

Caesars face screwed up in an incredulous look. “What do you mean you’re done?”

“I mean I’m DONE.” It was like a flood gate had opened, just ditching those two items had made him feel so much lighter. Like a dog who’d been let off-leash. “Consider this me taking a personal day,” Law paused. “—actually, make that a week.”

“You can’t do that, you have an obligation to your patients—“

Law clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Not today I don’t. You’ve got a degree, don’t you? You deal with it.”

Caesar started rising up from his seat. “Trafalgar Law if you— “

Law finally snapped, stepping forward. “If it’s still not clear to you,” The younger, much taller doctor leaned over the desk until he was nearly in the older man’s face. He was pleased to see the older doctor cowering backwards, but the man was an idiot if he thought the desk between them would protect him from the Surgeon’s wrath. Law’s lip curved back in a wicked smile that was nothing but teeth.  “You can read my fucking lips,” His voice was low and calm, barely more than a whisper; he had no need to shout because the threat was blatantly clear in his cold, gray eyes. “I’m going home.”

It took a long, drawn out moment before Caesar managed to find his voice, which Law’s pleased to note, seemed to have risen several decibels higher. “Don’t dare think about walking out of this office…! “

But Law was already two feet out the door, with his back to the angry assclown. He stopped, and without turning around or so much as batting a fucking eye, he raised his right, tribal tattooed, arm high enough for the whole damn floor to see, and gave Caesar a bold, single fingered salute.

Almost everyone was staring now, including Psycho Sadie, her too wide mouth with its thin lips caked in firetruck red lipstick, hanging open as if appalled by his behavior—while somehow, STILL managing to give him that look that made his skin crawl, practically undressing him with her eyes, like she was imagining what it’d be like to trace his ink with her tongue.

Ah, hell, he was on a damn roll, so why the fuck not…

“And you,” Law snapped, jabbing a finger in the receptionist’s direction. “Yes—they are tattoo’s.” He held up the same finger now effectively cutting off the second most popular follow up question. “Yes—I DO have more of them. Would you like me to draw you a diagram,” he grinned in a humorless display of flawlessly white teeth, “—or should I just strip right here?”

The closeted pervert’s face turned a shade of red that was even deeper than her lipstick, looking like SHE might be experiencing a myocardial infarction.

Well, that would be too bad for her, because Trafalgar Law was so fucking out of here.

Finally, Penguin couldn’t hold it in anymore, bursting out in raucous laughter.

Law turned around, noting his friend’s fist which was held out to the side, Law mirrored the gesture as Penguin fist bumped him, before taking long purposeful strides down the hall towards the exit.

What should have been his walk of shame, was probably the most liberating experience of his year.

Hell—maybe even longer than that.

His only regret was the shitstorm he knew he was going to get from a certain Pediatrician, because Shachi was surely going to be pissed that he’d missed it.

Mysterious Ways: Chapter 6

Submitted by: you-make-me-wander

Description: In the aftermath of the deadpool Lydia finds she can n longer keep her feelings for Stiles to herself and unloads to everyone’s favourite Alpha, Scott McCall.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance, Fluff

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Preference #14 He Has Feelings For You But Someone Else Tells You [Requested]

Scott: “Scott McCall is having breakfast with our mother.” Lydia announced, leaning against the doorframe as she awaited an explanation for his bizarre behavior. “Liam’s printer went haywire around 3am yesterday morning.” You stated in a cautious mumble, releasing a frustrated sigh as you fought the zipper to the coal suede ankle boot on your right foot. “According to Stiles, there was a name added to the list worth 15 million. Scott’s been following me around since. I’ll give you a guess as to who the name belonged to.” The atmosphere darkened, Lydia’s stomach churning with an intense despair as she fought the pessimistic thoughts threatening to poison her brain. She knew without a doubt that your name would be on the list; you were a werewolf. The mystery was in the worth, not in the presence of your name on the list. If you were worth 15 million dollars there was a real possibility the supernatural assassins would pursue you first.  “He cares about you, you know.” She informed, a faint smirk curling the corners of her mouth as she fought to have a trivial conversation.

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Shuddup and Drive - MarieMichaels - One Piece [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: One Piece
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Characters: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Sabo (One Piece), Portgas D. Ace, Shachi, Penguin (One Piece), Heart Pirates, Roronoa Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Luffy Being Luffy, Adventure, Romance, LawLu - Freeform, Romantic Comedy

Anyone can hate their life—even a Surgeon. How do you fix this? Well, if you’re Law, you can impulsively QUIT your current life, rent a fast car and drive it across a continent. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to pick up a hyperactive, teenage stranger to take with you. (LawLu M/M)

Even more reverse pines headcanons

Alright so I know Dipper, Pacifica, Mabel and Gideon’s roles in this reverse au and I also planed out Carla and Stan but I want to figure out the rest of the town. So here it goes.

Mystery Shack

Old Man McGucket: 65 years old: a intelligent inventor who creates the Mystery Shack’s animatronic attractions. Carla has him working on a new thing every week so he is always busy designing new creations. Due to his inventions being a tad destructive the town calls him the local kook and no one takes him seriously. He has a limp in his left leg from an injury from years before.

Robbie: 18 years old: a polite and laid back teenager who is generally friendly to everyone he meets. He’s a bit of a geek and is very smart. He has lots of friends but he met most of them through his girlfriend. He plays the guitar and sings but doesn’t like to in public cause he is self conscious. Very nurturing and loving towards animals and children.

Melody: 23 years old: a ditzy girl who’s a bit of a screwup but still a very talented handy man. She helps McGucket build his inventions and fixes things up in the shack. She is very caring and protective of her loved ones. She’s cheerful and always willing to lend a hand and give out advice.

Wendy: 17 years old: I didn’t have it in myself to turn Wendy into a horrible person because I love her to death. She’s a bit of a goth and a tough girl with a temper. I’d say she’s has a lot more of her dads traits than she does in canon. Easily angered and prone to hitting people and things. Surprisingly strong for her thin frame. She is very sarcastic and has an attitude but does have a soft side to her if you get to know her well enough.

Tent of Telepathy

Soos: 24 years old: He’s the twin’s bodyguard and their driver/servant. He works hard to be extremely serious and diligent in order to keep his job. He is used to getting ordered around by the twins and Stan and he has gotten better at dealing with their moods. He has a close relationship with Aboleta still, but he doesn’t live with her anymore, he lives on his own since Stan pays him better in this universe. He acts like a goof around Melody and turns into a blushing mess whenever he sees her.

Rest of the Town

Sherif Powers (42 years old) and Deputy Trigger (37 years old): Two no nonsense hardworking policemen who are always focused on work. Powers can not experience humour still and Trigger is always wanting to arrest people. They argue all the time. But the sexual tension is thick. ;)

Thompson: 18 years old. most popular boy in school. He’s always throwing parties and preforming stunts to get a response from people. Life of the party.

Tambery: 18 years old. a hyperactive and sociable teenager who texts everyone and knows everyone. She is very friendly and talkative. Kind of a valley girl. She’s kind of vapid but she does genuinely like people. Wendy is her best friend. They are opposites but they actually get along really well.

Lee and Nate: they are both 17 years old. nerdy and sarcastic teenagers who are pretty smart and are always competing with each other and trying to be cool and impress Thompson. They’re Thompson’s lackeys. Or the high school equivalent to lackeys. Posse, I guess.

Priscilla Northwest: 42 years old. She is the primary abuser of Pacifica in this instead of just being in the background, though her abuse is more focused on emotional manipulation. She graduated from Harvard law school at the age of 28. Her husband was the one who payed her way through school. She runs the Northwest households and organizes all the parties and events. On top of that she is the Mayor of Gravity Falls and has been for 15 years.

Preston Northwest: 45 years old. Very forlorn and silent. He runs the Northwest logging industry but most of the direct orders come from his second in command. He’s just the face of the company. He never speaks unless directly spoken to. Paz barely remembers what his voice sounds like half the time. He always wears gloves.

Toby Determined: 48 years old. a very respected news reporter who always goes for the big stories. Every journalist in town wants to work for the Gravity Falls Gossiper. He doesn’t like to be bothered by inconsequential news stories. He only likes the big stuff. He’s kinda rude and has a bit of a crush on Sandra.

Sandra Jimenez: 40 years old. a low scale reporter who has her own news show that’s not very successful. She always goes around town claiming to be a serious and real reporter. She tries to get attention in any way she can.

Manly Dan: 49 years old. Wendy’s dad who used to be a lumber jack but took over his wife’s diner when she died. Now he is a very aggressive cook and server. If you don’t like the food, you get thrown out, literally. Most of his meals are very much beef and jerky oriented. He still goes chopping down trees in the woods but not as often. He makes all his kids work at the diner.

Lazy Susan: (61 years old) Works for Preston Northwest’s lumberjack industry. She is a tough lady who will chop down any tree in her path. Not very smart and doesn’t really watch out for the safety of others when she goes on a chopping rampage. Though she can’t help that cause of her bad eye.

Imagine #15 Cora [Requested]

“Who’s that?” The enamored question stirred a sense of bewilderment in the hyperactive teenager seated on the tattered worn midnight leather couch; Stiles’ broad shoulders slumped forward, warm cappuccino irises glancing over at the werewolves feet away, elbows settled on his knees as he set his chin in the palm of his hand. “Derek’s younger sister, Cora.” The ‘pack’ assembled at Derek’s loft in a desperate attempt to strategize a counter defense against the assassins hired to kill each supernatural member of the group. The beautiful stranger ‘returned’ to Beacon Hills to help protect the pack, at least that’s the explanation Stiles had given you for the werewolf’s presence. There was a magnetic tension lingering in the atmosphere, despite possessing human senses, the excessive suffocating force was painfully obvious to each occupant of the warehouse loft. The supernatural beings in the warehouse knew the origin of the tension; the scent was impossible to misconstrue, it was a sexual tension, permeating in waves from the youngest Hale. Cora ignored the invasive questions from the werewolves, heightened sense of hearing zeroing in on the rhythmic drumming of your human heart, committing the musical beat to memory.

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Shuddup and Drive

Anyone can hate their life—even a Surgeon. How do you fix this? Well, if you’re Law, you can impulsively QUIT your current life, rent a fast car and drive it across a continent. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to pick up a hyperactive, teenage stranger to take with you.


Luffy blinked. “Uhhhh… Law?” Said doctor turned to catch the teen casting him a scrupulous look. “Why is there a sword in your backseat?”

Oh, that. “Well, I kind of ditched my apartment, so I had to bring it with me.”  Law reasoned.

“You mean you’re living in your car?” Luffy’s brows rose, but to his credit, his tone wasn’t at all judgmental. More like… curious.

“Technically it’s a rental…huh,” Law paused for a moment, letting it sink in. “I guess that makes me homeless?” For some reason, it didn’t really bother him as much as it probably should have. “ I’m a homeless cardiothoracic surgeon.”

Luffy smirked. “Yeah, I guess there’s not too many people who’ve ever been able to say that.” Yes—well, not a lot of sane people anyway. “What are you going to do, find a new place when you get back?”

Oh, like hell.

Law scoffed. “I’m not going back.”

“Then you’re going to find a place in town?”Luffy asked, sounding more than a little hopeful. Having Law as Sabaody’s newest permanent resident would definitely be an improvement in life.

“No,” said Law, immediately dismissing the idea, much to Luffy’s disappointment. “It’s nice to come back, but there’s just too many memories here.”

“Well you can’t live in your car forever,” Luffy’s mouth quirked. “—especially if it’s a rental. Where are you gonna go?”

Law paused. “I don’t know, maybe Dressrosa?” He hadn’t really known it until he said it, but once the words were out of his mouth they just felt right. He didn’t want to forget about Cora, but he didn’t want to live with his ghost either. This way he could go somewhere he could always think about his late adopted father, somewhere related to him, but without any negative memories attached. “Cora always talked about it, but we never got around to visiting.”

It was where his adopted father was born, his hometown. Cora had always wanted to show Law, and maybe he was gone, but that didn’t’ mean Law couldn’t go.

If he didn’t like it he could keep driving.

This whole new Law, who didn’t make plans or have commitments, was starting to grow on him. His life had been chained down to a plan since he was 13 years old and decided he was going to be a doctor. Well shit, he was a doctor now, which meant from here on there was no plan, he could do whatever the hell he felt like.

The only real negative was the lack of company, he really wished Cora was still here to take the trip with him… It was too quiet sometimes, he got sick of the radio—but the silence reminded him of his apartment, so he was still left to blare the radio even when the only thing coming in clear were crappy, bubblegum pop stations, country gospels, talk shows, even commercials were preferable. But it still wasn’t the same as talking to a real person. He’d felt alone in a city of millions of people—why’d he think being alone in a car would be any different?  

Tonight, hanging out with Luffy, he felt good for the first time in forever. But it still wasn’t enough for him to stay.

Luffy says he’s lucky, and tells him that when he was younger he’d always wanted to go to the ocean and become a pirate of all things.

“Come with me.” He hadn’t known he was going to make the offer until the words fell out on their own. His mouth seemed to be doing that a lot the past few days. But he didn’t want to take it back

“What,” Luffy’s brows rose. “like back to your hotel?”

“No,” Law shook his head. “I mean come with me. To Dressrosa.”

“Seriously…?” He doesn’t sound like he thinks Law’s crazy, more like is Law really serious? For real?

“Well yeah,” Law rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s right on the coast, plenty of ocean… I’m sure there’s boats out there,” Law muttered “—maybe not a whole lot of other pirates.”

Luffy snorted. “What makes you think I’d still want to be a pirate?”

Law’s brows furrowed. “Don’t you?”

Luffy tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I guess not in the traditional sense of the word,” Luffy half-shrugged. “I’m not really interested in stealing and plundering—but yeah, seeing the ocean, sailing out on a boat, that would be cool.”

Really? Really? It was that simple? Did rational people seriously just agree to hop into cars and drive cross-country with practical strangers? Not that Law was the best suited for playing mental health advocate, but wow. By now Luffy’s already halfway in the car; the passenger side door closes behind him; his seat belt is clicking into place. Well, damn. Okay then. “It’s settled,” Law concluded, eyeing his passenger in amusement. “—we’ll be non-pirating pirates.”

Luffy raised both brows in disbelief. “You want to come be a non-pirating pirate with me?”

“Is that a problem?”

Luffy bit his lip, seemingly thinking it over. “One condition,” the teen gave Law a suddenly serious look. “I’m captain.” Law fought the foreign urge to laugh as the teen continued. “You can be the ships Doctor,” Luffy reasoned, waving his hand in a vague dismissive gesture. “—with your fancy medical degree.”

“Fine.” Law smirked because he knew, historically speaking, when shit got serious, the Doctor outranked everyone, captain included.

Laws hands are finally relaxing on the steering wheel, no longer holding it in a death grip. Even the muscles in his neck and shoulders felt like they were beginning to loosen. He’s starting to like this whole non-plan philosophy. This isn’t a plan, they weren’t following any written guidelines. Being non-pirating pirates wasn’t a plan, it was more like…pursuing dreams, and it sounded pretty good.

A temporary alliance, if it didn’t work out then so be it, he’d buy Luffy a ticket back to here and he’d just get back in his car and drive some more. It was a big fucking continent.

“Since you’ve never been to the ocean” the doctor mused, “I take it you’ve never actually been on a boat before?”

“Well, not really,” the teen frowned, “—but how hard could it be?” Luffy’s lips pursed. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be some fancy valedictorian smart guy? I’m sure between the two of us we could figure it out.” The teen squirmed a bit in the seat, making himself comfortable. “I’m already trusting you not to crash and kill us both.”

True enough.

“Don’t worry,” Law assured him.  “I’ll keep the car in one piece.” The surgeon was honestly surprised at the lack of sarcasm in his tone. It was funny how knowing Luffy would be in it, Law was more serious in the sentiment now than when he’d said it to Shachi.

Still, his hand hesitated on the gear shift. “Last chance to back out,” Law nearly has to force the words out, but he still felt like he needed to make the offer anyway. “You’re really cool with this?”

“Sure,” Luffy shrugs. “I mean come on—if you could walk away from your job as a surgeon, I’m sure the convenience store can find a way to manage without me.” The teen grinned. “They’ll just have to find someone else to stock the shelves and clean behind the coolers.”

The corner of Law’s mouth twitches. “No offence Luffy, but a monkey could probably do that.”

“None taken,” Luffy chuckled, adjusting the shoulder strap of his seatbelt. “—you’re probably right.”

Law taps his fingernails against the gear shift, still a bit hesitant, and more than a little bit dazed at the speed this whole thing is going. “Are you sur–?

Law.” Luffy drawls cutting him off, rolling his eyes with a smirk. “Shut-up and drive the damn car.”