in the bleachers

Louis has been called to the principal’s office and Steve, his dad ,is trying very hard  to explain the situation at hand. “Sir, It will never happen again, this is very unlike my Louis. He’s incapable of doing the things you just accused him of.”

The principal (wearing big ass headphones for the puropose of this story), looks vaguely unimpressed while answering.

“Mister Aoki, this is not the first time your son has been caught canoodling with young mister Styles under the bleachers. We’ve been over this.” He sighs, shaking his head.

Steve, gets up, ready to fight. “Are you saying kissing a boy is wrong, Sir?”


Sam listens to his buddies from Stanford talk about their first kisses while they sit at a bar drinking shots of whiskey. How great they were, how they were with the head cheerleader under the bleachers, that they were the same night they fucked for the first time.
When Sam is asked when his first kiss was, he just laughs it off and takes another shot.

Of course, he couldn’t say that his first kiss was when he was 13, in the back of his father’s car. He couldn’t say that it was the best night of his life, because he had never felt more love or more adrenaline. He couldn’t say because it was his brother that kissed him while their dad was checking out of their most recent motel room. He couldn’t say because- well
because he was still in love with him.

Law and Luffy  //first impressions

Arguably, it begins in the auction house.  Straw Hat comes crashing through the wall; he charges headlong into the crowd at the sight of his friend, despite the protests coming at him from all sides, despite the multitude of hands reaching out to stop him; he freezes at the sound of a single gunshot, as if he has never heard one before; and Law imagines that he has never done a single subtle thing in his life.  He has never been quiet, or soft, or secretive.  He has never thought first, and acted second.  He has been Everything, all at once, and never Nothing At All.

So when Straw Hat’s next act is one of outright defiance - a Celestial Dragon sent sprawling through the bleachers of a warehouse selling slaves to the highest bidder, a hand thrown up in the face of the World Government and everything that it stands for - it comes as no great shock.

Law allows himself to grin, his heart beating hard.


Luffy remembers him from the archipelago - more specifically, he remembers the Bear, because it was cool, and Robin saying that guy’s name.  Traffle… something.  It’s hard to pronounce, and Luffy doesn’t give it much thought after that.

The second time… he doesn’t know.

There is too much going on.

Sounds he doesn’t know.  Voices he doesn’t know.  Faces swimming in and out of the blackness that he doesn’t know.  Names being said that he doesn’t know.  His heart thumps hard, his breath snagging, shaking.  He doesn’t know - he doesn’t know - he doesn’t know.  There’s no light, and then bright flashes of it.  Sound muffled and indistinct, constant.  He feels a lot of things - everything, all at once - and then nothing at all.  The heat he feels in his own body nearly chokes him; his hands jumping up, chest heaving.

The sudden bursts of cold, of numbness, scare him.

It feels a lot like drowning - like being dropped in the ocean, that smothering pressure.  He can’t move, he can’t breathe.  He can’t fight his way out of this, but he knows that he has to.  He has to get up.  He has to save Ace.  But someone pushes down his arms every time he tries to raise them, someone gently uncurls his fists so the tension eases out.  Someone says something, short and steady and unfamiliar.  He breathes again, deeply, and his chest burns with the effort, aches with the force of the inward pull.

It hurts.  It hurts.

Fingers brush against his wrists, waiting to see if he’s going to be still or not, and for a long second that’s all he can focus on.

That’s the only thing that really sticks.

Luffy remembers his hands.  The light touches, the steady grip, the calm, sure movement.  A soft weight against his eyes when the tears pool out, something fleeting that is gone too soon.

Warmth that is there, then not there.


(It’s part of the reason why he wakes up screaming.)


No one said Alex was wearing a beanie, but then again no one said she WASN’T wearing one.

If you like Sanvers, and you like fluff, and you like funny, and you like fake dating and you like good written funny shit, you should absolutely check out @lyook ‘s and @jayenator565 ‘s amazing fic THE WEDDING DATE!!!! (Seriously it’s great, go read it) 

(edit to add this second version, which I like way better)

Please don’t repost anywhere else :) (ORIGINAL TWEET)