Drabbles

[silverwolfcc]

Prompt 1: Ace threw his back out & Smoker tries not to laugh.

"It hurts!" Ace whined.

Smoker was unsympathetic. "But how did you do it?"

"I don't know!" Ace protested some more, laying on hot packs, as redundant as that seemed.

Smoker sipped his coffee. "You're an idiot."

Ace pouted, "You should comfort me!"

Smoker rolled his eyes before shutting them tightly and biting harder on the cigars in a struggle not to laugh. "What were you doing when you threw it out?"

"Nothing!" More freckled pouts. "I just sneezed really hard, and when I bent down to tie up my boots--"

That did it.

Smoker couldn't hide the snicker at that. It was just too stupid.

"I hate you," Ace glared.

"Now now, old man," Smoker started, but then barked another laugh at this turnabout of events, "You should be resting!" He fell apart laughing.

Ace's face scrunched up, torn between amusement at Smoker's reaction, and sheer fury at it all the same. "I hate you soooooo much," Ace growled, "Just see if I'm nice whenever you throw your back out! You're the old one! Asshole!"

Smoker just laughed even more, but at least he did get Ace some food. That helped.



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

Prompt 2: "DICK!" Ace + Zoro [Hands of God AU-verse]

"DICK!" Ace roared loudly.

Zoro blinked in confusion. What the fuck did he just walk in on? He expected to see Ace either beating someone senseless or being held back from doing just that, and his hands went to his hips towards where the hilts of his swords would have been reflexively.

Instead Ace laughed, all smiles, and chugged a drink. "I WIN!" he yelled at just the same volume.

"And we, of course, all lose," a long haired man in a kimono so fancy and done up in makeup that at first Zoro thought he was a woman, gracefully took a solitary nail-polished hand down from the ear where he was wincing.

Ace laughed some more, and clapped the man on the shoulder. "Nyah! You have to try harder!"

"No, thank you," the man murmured softly, and Marco gently rolled his eyes, the only indication that the raucous behavior had even affected him at all.

"Am I interrupting something?" Zoro asked as he finally got to the table, his expression no less confused than before.

"Ah Zoro!" Ace finished his drink with another chug and a beam. "We're playing the Dick Game! Do you know it?"

"No?" Zoro scanned the table's expressions for help. Marco was never any help, and another blond with a pompadour looked embarrassed to be alive, much less at the table. The dark-haired man in a kimono was trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the circumstances, and Jozu was stuck in facepalm mode.

"You have to yell Dick as loud as you can and then you get to drink!" Ace explained cheerfully.

Jozu gestured feebly, "That's not actually how it's supposed to..." Marco just gave Jozu a blank stare, and somehow that cut the bodybuilder off at the pass. "You know what? Never mind."

Zoro rubbed a finger in his ear, "Are you saying drink?" That clearly made more sense.

"Nope!" Ace beamed widely, and inhaled sharply, giving the man in a kimono just enough time to shoot Ace a glare he seemed impervious to, and to press the fingers back up against his own ear. "PENIS!"

"How much have you had to drink?" Zoro eyed the empty mug in Ace's hands, and then the others around the table.

Ace laughed, "Some~! These guys are total pussies at this game! Oh no! I used the wrong term, that's a punch right?" He was way too cheerful about letting Marco suddenly kick him in the face without warning, even after Ace sat back up from the distance he'd been shot with a bloody nose and lip no less, he still laughed about it.

Zoro was a little lost again. Not that that was unusual for him. "What's the point of this game?" he scratched his head idly.

"To get drunk!" Ace answered.

Zoro gave him an even stare. After meeting Luffy, Zoro had no idea that anyone could actually be louder than Ace's little brother, much less take so much delight in the chaos and noise as much as Luffy seemed to. Ace wasn't usually so hyper, but once he got going, it seemed like he could even give Luffy a run for the money. "There has to be better ways." Quicker at minimum, and less annoying and mortifying for everyone else around them.

Ace paused, genuinely seemed to reflect on Zoro's statement for a bit of blessed reprieve of quiet for the table, and then brightened with a grin that would melt even Kuzan's ice cold heart. "Okay! I'll call Haruta and we can play Truth & Dare--!"

He was interrupted suddenly by Marco who had seemingly snapped. "ENOUGH WITH THE SHANKS GAMES!" he kicked Ace again without even turning to look at him.

Zoro blinked all over again, as Ace went tumbling back and Marco's eyes slid back to their lazy droopiness as he sat back down like nothing happened.

"Uh... should we check on him?" Zoro peered over Marco's shoulder to look at Ace who still hadn't gotten up yet.

"Leave him," the pompadour man said somewhat sourly. "Sit and have a drink?" he offered Zoro, considerably more amicably.

Zoro glanced at Ace again, grabbed a seat, and with the tiniest of grins, muttered, "Thanks." And as he rose the glass up to his lips, he made sure to yell out, "Cock!"

And everyone else around the table choked on their drinks. The only shame was that Ace was still out cold and missed it.


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

Prompt 3: Marco & Ray Singing in the Rain

"No." Marco stubbornly refused and shielded himself with the umbrella from the rain, as if the water falling from the sky was acid, and he was made of spun sugar.

'No' was a dangerous word to Rayleigh, though not as much as to a D. Still, he too took it as a challenge and never as an answer.

"I'm siiiiingin' in the rain," Rayleigh started off, and lead away to play in the puddles on Sabaody.

"Not happening," Marco insisted, tightening his grip on the umbrella, knowing for sure that Ray was bound to try something more drastic.

Ray ignored this however, and tapdanced in puddles like Marco wasn't even there, "Just siiiiiinging in the rain!"

Marco squeezed his eyes shut to ignore the dancing. "I'm walking away now," he uttered calmly, even turning his back on the old dancing fool and making a very good pretense of leaving Rayleigh there continuing the show alone.

"What a glorious feeling~!" Ray sang loudly, cheerfully, the rain not even affecting his voice.

Marco's outward expression didn't change at all. No reaction. He wouldn't give in. But inside, he was already cursing his happy feet which itched to join the other in dance. How could he resist? But no, he mustn't give in so easily. It was wet. It was worse than wet. It was wet on Sabaody which meant it was sticky and intolerable, and the last thing Marco wanted was tree sap all over his feet which would be a pain to get off. He was half-tempted to transform into his bird form, but rain in fire feathers was almost just as unpleasant, and while he could hold the umbrella in his beak, it would be too easy for Rayleigh to pick him up, and even easier to force him to sing along. He just needed to get away in time.

"I'm happy again!" Ray sang beautifully, cheerfully, you could feel all the emotion.

Marco would not be moved. He was stone. Cold unfeeling stone, yessirree. An unmoving statue like that pigeons pooped on, rather than a pigeon dancer himself.

"I'm laughing at clouds!" Ray crooned, his smirk somehow just intensifying, as if he could read the exact inner workings in Marco's mind, and see exactly what the delay was about. He was too cocky, too arrogant, it was infuriating. Marco should just leave him there dancing alone out of spite. So much spite. OH and how much Ray would hate that. Not to be dancing in the rain alone, but to have guessed wrong, just once, just this one time. "So dark up above~!"

Whitebeard's first division commander made it a good distance away from the dancing fool. All the way to a building's awning where he calmly folded up his umbrella and rested it against the wall. Very well, he wouldn't leave the Shadow King dancing alone in the middle of a public plaza, looking senile -- assuming Ray ever had any wits to begin with. But he could stay and wait. Absolutely.

"The sun's in my heart, and I'm ready for love!"

Ray never doubted Marco for a second, and of course was ready and waiting to dance along with his friend as Marco instantly joined in, singing loudly and dancing along, unable to resist the temptation. After all, what fun was being a pirate if you couldn't do what you wanted, when you wanted, and to hell with all the stares? "Let the stormy clouds chase, everyone from the place!"

"You owe me new sandals if these get sap on them," Marco muttered quietly as they spun about in public, completely unaffected by any stares from passerbys.

"Come on with the rain, I've a smile on my face!" Ray spun them both about and towards the fountain. "Don't worry darling," he added quietly, in just as much sing-song, "I've got you covered." Marco switched to phoenix form, already resigned to his fate to be a dancing fool too.


-------------------------------------
Prompt 4: It's a Merry Thatchmas and Ace can't figure out what to get Pops for Christmas. With the time ticking, he has to figure out the perfect gift and remember that chocolates don't count if the box is empty. aka: The Whitebeard Christmas Extravaganza

"It has to be special!" Ace said aloud, working his way through the thoughts, with his subordinates to help bounce them off of, even if all the did was nod along with "uh-huhs." "Something no one else has ever given him before!"

"Yeah right," one nodded along in agreement.

"Something big!" Of course, it stood to reason. Pops was big, therefore his presents should be too! "Something flashy!"

"Pops isn't really that into flashy stuff," one of them intervened before Ace could pursue the path that could only end in somehow even more chaos.

"Something white!" Ace amended the last suggestion, and everyone agreed this was a much better idea, because Pops definitely liked white things. "Something even better than Stefan!"

They all shared glances. No good could come from Ace trying to outdo Marco, and there may have been some silent prayers and worries that Ace was going to try to get the old man a giant white steed as a new pet or son. No good could come from it either way.

"It's just a shame there's no point to setting Pops up on a massive roller rink rocket-powered wheelchair!"

The worried glances intensified.

"Because he can already do that for himself!" Ace rubbed his chin in thought, this time the thoughts no longer leaving his mouth. An island had also been done. More sons wasn't a present. Booze had definitely been done. And even most entertainment had been done.

"Yosh! I've got it!" Ace pounded a fist into an open palm.

"Why do I get the feeling Marco isn't going to like this?" someone asked. Ever since the 'Better than Stefan,' it'd been a mounting concern. Now, they were sure, Marco was going to hate it.

"A ski weekend vacation!"

Definitely going to hate it.

Too bad coming up with it was the easy part. The harder part was going to be convincing Marco and not letting Pops catch on.

No one and nothing could dampen Ace's enthusiasm however. "There'll be lots of snow bunnies, and ski women at the lodge... Just dying for some booze and someone to warm them up!"

"And what will you tell Marco to get him there?" they pointed out.

Ace ignored it. "And great big trees we can decorate all in white and lights!"

"But Marco...."

Ace was unstoppable, "And we can all sit around Pops and sing songs!"

"We can already do that here," a low voice pointed out.

"And I'll get Marco to agree, even if I have to kidnap him!" Ace beamed, brimming with confidence.

"Oh yeah, do that," one added sarcastically, "That'll help."

But no matter what objections, Ace was set on it, and ran off to get the plans started.

Somewhere on the ship, Marco had a bad feeling, sneezed, and skulked off to the crow's nest to huddle up in blankets, just in case someone was planning something foolish; he didn't want to be involved.

Which was only Marco's mistake, really. For as he cuddled away his bottle of blue curacao and pretended his little brothers didn't exist, it only gave them more time to plot against him. Then again, maybe he allowed them on purpose.


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

Prompt 5: Skinny Dipping Zoro & Ace

Zoro's breath hitched, literally taken away for a beat, as he caught sight of the nude muscular man before him. Too many muscles, far too well-defined abs, and the body of not only someone who worked out at least as much as Zoro, but probably did it with ease. The legs were even like rock, someone who did a lot of jumping, but with that crazy upper body strength that he could see just from the chest alone, they had to be a rock climber, at least. Definitely a fighter though, Zoro could just see a blade scabbard tucked along side the rest of the clothes, too long for a regular cooking knife, so probably made up for using their body to fight too. Damn.

Floppy black hair swept back as the man stood up to reveal freckled cheeks and even more muscles. They moved like a jaguar, and Zoro had the sudden wild urge to prove that he was the strongest predator, the strongest hunter between them, even though normally, he was all for letting others go their separate ways, so long as they didn't get in his way.

Whether they noticed they had an observer or not, they didn't seem to care if they did, and dove into the river like... well, also a jaguar. It was lithe for anything else, and yet, too violent and aggressive for a dolphin or something that belonged in water. Indeed they didn't seem to be swimming either, just holding onto the side and waiting for something.

"Are you going to join, or aren't you?" Ace's voice called out, quietly amused.

Zoro didn't know whether to feel embarrassed that he'd been caught watching, or just that he'd almost hoped it was Ace. For some reason.

He cleared his throat and stepped towards the clearing so Ace could see him back in the moonlight. "How long did you know I was there?"

Ace smirked cockily, and Zoro inwardly cursed that it was a damn good look on him. "Right after I folded my clothes. Wish you'd gotten here earlier, I'd have given you quite a show." He bounced his eyebrows slightly, and leaned back to float in the water.

Zoro grunted quietly in response, glancing again towards Ace's clothes. "In or not?" Ace asked again, voicing Zoro's own internal question.

The swordsman considered it. And tried to get a better look at Ace's body again. "Yeah, all right," he acquiesced, putting his swords next to Ace's clothes before removing his shirt.

Ace wolf whistled at him.

Zoro's cheeks flushed and he shot Ace a glare, "But you're not allowed to do that."

Ace laughed, "Don't take so long! I need someone to make sure I don't drown!"

Zoro blinked in confusion, removing his boots, "You can't swim."

A quiet hum, "No, it's a sleep thing," Ace shrugged, clearly downplaying whatever problem it was.

"Why'd you get in the water if you're sleepy?" Zoro was almost tempted to chuck the boot at Ace's head, but then it'd get wet and take too long to dry.

Ace just laughed impatiently, "Get naked already! You take too long!"

"I take a normal time, you just don't wear enough clothes!" Zoro shot back in aggravation, but Ace just laughed some more.

Idiot.

Hot idiot, but still, an idiot.



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

Prompt 6: Smoker doing his taxes when he notices something unusual

He spent too much this year on booze and cigars. Just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that. Oh well. It was a slippery slope... or something. The more money Smoker made, the more he spent on what he enjoyed, and thus, the more he needed to keep getting promotions to pay for more booze and cigars. But this year would be different. He'd still spend more on booze and cigars, but this year? Better ones.

Did 450000 berri on ice cream for orphans count as charitable or work? Or maybe he should stick all the orphanage stuff together. Damn it. This was too damn annoying. Then again, at least it was sticking it to the government and making them pay for something useful in society, and that was always worth it. Even if it was paying taxes. So annoying. If Smoker wanted to be an accountant... well he didn't, that was the whole point! He wanted to ride around his motorcycle and fight criminals, and deal with real world solutions not abstract numbers and figures! DAMN IT!

He was almost tempted to go hire an accountant, but the idea of letting someone else touch his finances was somehow even more annoying.

After comparing his notes, Smoker remembered to add the replacement tires for his motorcycle to work expenses. That was also how he noticed something a bit bizarre added into his notes.

"Fifty thousand berri on condoms as a work expense? What the fuck?" It was also highlighted. In orange. Of course it was. "Portgas...." he fumed, quickly scanning the papers to see what else was there.

Ninety thousand berri on pizza, apparently was pre-classified for him as both charity and work. Twenty thousand berri on baseball supplies, and another fifty thousand for picnic supplies for the orphanage baseball picnic, check. Fifty-two thousand berri for fireworks for work? That better be a joke, although Smoker had the uneasy feeling he might need to check out some warehouses just in case. Fifty thousand berri on torn clothes and boxers (pre-classified as both charity and work, much to a snort from Smoker) was probably an exaggeration. At least for just one year. Still, maybe half of that was valid... sadly. Smoker really hated buttons. And Ace could go commando, but he seemed to find Smoker's hatred of buttons in his way funny. God damn brat.

It was all quite ridiculous of course, but Smoker added it anyway. Fuck the government. He could explain all of it, if necessary, but he was willing to bet they'd be too pussy chickenshit to bother asking any questions. Best revenge.


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

Prompt 7: Marco's Mistletoe Meltdown

It happened every year. Everywhere, every bough, every doorframe, and any part of the mast that vaguely stuck out, was covered with overhanging mistletoe. The shipping possibilities along were enough to drive Marco crazy. Not that he ever let himself get caught under a branch and allow the others to ship him; unless it was just for the one kiss, but he promised every year not to force anything or get disappointed if it didn't last beyond the kiss. And he was usually pretty good about that promise too! Except for Thatch and Izou, but only because they were so stubborn when the mistletoe was above them that it just made him ship them harder.

But that was the good part of such a display. Because every other year had been safe for the birdie. This year was not to be safe at all.

This year Shanks was coming wassailing, and Marco could only predict very bad things about that indeed.

He wanted to take down all the mistletoe and ban it completely, but this conflicted with his other desire to make sure his brothers didn't worry about him, especially not in the context of Shanks. Because if they saw him flustered, then they would worry, and that would create tensions, and that was the exact opposite of the point of this joint holiday. So Marco would just have to act as normal as possible and not let anyone know ever.

Well, Pops, Thatch, and Izou knew. Because Marco could and would lie to them with a straight face, but they still knew. Somehow. It was almost infuriating, but then Marco could usually tell when they were lying too, so it was fine. Namur didn't know, but still somehow put in his two berri that Marco should just face fuck the other man and get it over with. Thank you shark-bro, no. Marco was not worried, he'd never been caught before, and surely he wouldn't now either, just because there was a wild joker thrown into the mix. He could spy on accidental couples all he wanted without getting caught himself, just like always.

The first three days went surprisingly well. It was almost like Shanks knew that Marco would be nervous except for in open spaces and made sure not to corner Marco, but surely he wouldn't be that nice just for Marco's comfort zones. By the fifth day, Marco was pretty sure something was up. But there was no way to approach it without tossing his dignity out a porthole and kissing his facade of total security goodbye.

"Maybe he just doesn't want to kiss you," Thatch shrugged when Marco brought it up.

Marco stared at Thatch. Of course he didn't, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Shanks avoiding even getting into a situation where Marco could be stuck under mistletoe with him. That was more forethought than Shanks gave anything, even whether to put on pants for the day! It was creepy!

Of course the only surefire way to find out would be to wait under mistletoe himself, but Marco wasn't that curious. He'd rather try something less drastic first. Like chewing off his own leg. No, no, much easier would be getting Shanks drunk and asking him outright. After all, "drunk" was Shanks preferred state of existence, even if he was staying a little cautious on a relatively unfriendly ship.

"So what is it?" Marco outright asked him, once he'd deemed the pirate emperor drunk enough.

"Awwww Marco-chwan," Shanks slurred his words, leaning in closer to Marco, "Do you wanna kiss that badly?"

"Hell no!" Marco snapped and pushed Shanks' head back with a single finger to his forehead. "It's just that this level of foresight is unprecedented from you! Until now, I would have said impossible!" He was testy to reveal this much, but his nerves were a bit frazzled, and Shanks always had a knack for pushing his buttons.

Shanks smirked lazily and drank more from a bottle. "It's a secret," he answered finally, almost conspiratorially.

Marco's blue eyes narrowed in irritation. No, he was not going to accept that answer. Not at this point, not after everything else this week so far. "Between whom?" the first division commander sneered.

Shanks' lazy smirk just languished where it was, hiding the honesty behind the facade, that this was one of the strongest men in the world, and he'd earned the position not the way Pops had with pure intellect, allies, and raw strength, but through a great deal of cunning that knew how to smooth ruffled feathers... or to ruffle smoothed ones, like Marco's. "Hm... I wonder..."

Marco wanted to punch him. He really did. But not enough to cause a problem for his father just over something so petty. The anger vented out in a ripple, nearly palpable, and Marco was sure, even in his drunken stupor, Shanks could feel it as easily as the wind. He took a deep breath, and let it go. The most annoying man in the world, that should be Shanks' title. About to walk away, Marco shot back an arrogant smirk of his own, "Well, thank you for your consideration then."

Somehow that seemed to be enough that Shanks merely watched him leave, licking his lips when Marco was gone to take in the taste of the alcohol and laughing softly to himself.

With the actual holiday itself the next day, Marco had all but forgotten about Shanks being there, he was too busy overseeing so many other details and fussing over his brothers and Pops to make sure their day went perfectly. So he was actually quite surprised when Shanks popped up and surprised him with a present. And even more surprised, but genuinely touched, to find a very thoughtful scarf. "Ah... Shanks... Thank you, eh?"

Shanks smiled gently, and shrugged modestly. "But you do like it?" he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"I do," Marco smiled back just as softly.

"Good!" Shanks beamed, "Your 16th division commander helped pick it out."

"I'll have to thank Izou too then," Marco gently put it on, already internally warmer.

"Mm-hm!" Shanks rocked on his feet again, and then turned to leave.

"Ah wait... I have your present too... but it's in my room," Marco frowned, having no inclination to invite the pirate there.

Shanks' expression flickered with amusement. "Do you want me to wait here?" he offered, guessing at Marco's hesitation.

Marco shook his head, "No, I won't be ridiculous about this. Come with me, just stay an arm's length distance."

Shanks chuckled softly, but dutifully followed along, keeping his distance, almost to Marco's surprise. He rather doubted that Shanks had suddenly learned over night to avoid Marco's temperamental kicks. Still, so long as the yonkou was obeying, Marco couldn't really protest much.

"Do you always decorate the ships this much?" Shanks asked, looking around at the holiday decorations and taking in all the mistletoe.

"Hmm, yes," Marco answered simply as he led the way as directly as possible. Friendly terms or not, he would never stop seeing Shanks as a potential enemy as well. "But don't get any weird ideas."

Shanks laughed weakly at that. "Marco..." he started in a quiet voice.

Every invisible feather on the back of Marco's neck and spine bristled, completely ruffled at that tone. "Don't tell me we're under mistletoe."

Shanks laughed again and shook his head, "No no, nothing like that." He paused, and stepped the distance between to the two of them to tug Marco into a one-armed hug, "What do I have to do to make you less nervous?"

Marco's internal bristling just got even more exacerbated by that. "You can't!" he snapped, and untangled from the arm, although he almost regretted when he held it out and saw the slightly rueful sad expression on Shanks' face. Marco ran a hand through his hair, "I mean... it's not you."

Shanks' facial expressions shifted all the more, "I know."

Marco punched him in the face.

Well.... in his heart. Mentally. He wanted to.

But he resisted the urge. If barely.

He kept his face deadpan too. "I lied, it's all you."

Shanks laughed. For real, a loud, gleeful, almost evil laugh. And then before Marco could move, or maybe he didn't want to? Shanks kissed him hard. Marco didn't even have time to close his eyes or react or do much of anything other than just dumbly kiss him back like it was the plan all along. At least it wasn't a deep kiss or anything, just hard. And swift. Asshole. And it was over quickly enough with Shanks pointing up, "You stepped into it."

Marco really considered throwing him into the ocean, war between emperors or not. "You're about to step into a lot worse," he growled, not letting his face change from the deadpan composure he relied on so heavily.

"Oh, I know," Shanks laughed, and skipped out of range again. "But it was worth it."

Hahahaha.... worth it. Shanks was clearly forgetting that Marco's specialty was revenge. But that was fine, it would make pinning mistletoe over Shanks' cape in the back all the better after Marco kicked his ass.


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