Ehhh,pretty Much 😭

💿Love the range in styles💿

various album covers

Truly a fine specimen

Me. I am Girls.

Honest, Iva would've thrown cheap wine at it and burned it accidentally in the wash 🔥👔

stupid comic abt this fuckass sabo art(i love the art btw)

When you want to be cute and violent, don't choose - be both

Gyaru landsknecht loves collecting "cute" stuff

by centurii-chan@CenturiiC

Henry VIII’s Horned Helmet, c.1511-1514

When you are all that and a bag of chips 😌 👌

One Piece novel HEROINES illustrations by Sayaka Suwa

🦩Manic to a T🦩

paper animation test

😏 Honestly, it's calling to me 😏

AceLaw Week 2023 (inserts excuse here on why I needed to draw them).

If the fire burned clothes

That 'loveable dummy' calls to me so~ 🩵v🩵

Hi! Hope you have a nice day. If it's okay with you, may i request something for the charming firefly, ace?

Something like ace is vv oblivious to the reader's flirting, just thinking everything just a coincidence, like their seat on the dining table are next to each other, or when he's thirsty or hungry, the reader will always have a drink or snack/food ready. While actually it's happening because of the reader and their observations.

Sorry if it's too long, thanks for your time for reading this! (Completely okay if you're not ok with writing this, i just wanna say thank you)

a/n: wahh! thiss is soo cutee! hope u like thiss ><

Clueless Hearts and Full Plates

Ace doesn’t realize the reader’s affection is behind every perfect coincidence—until one finally clicks.

Ace X gn! reader

tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, ooc, ace being oblivious

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.1k

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was always a coincidence.

At least, that’s what Ace thought.

Every meal, every shared moment, every little “accident” that placed you beside him was chalked up to fate, luck, or the universe just being weirdly nice to him that day.

Like this morning.

The Moby Dick rocked gently with the waves, and the crew had begun their daily scramble to the galley. Ace, still half-asleep with bedhead and one sandal barely on, made his way to the table. As usual, the crew’s chatter filled the room with the kind of loud, familial chaos only the Whitebeard Pirates could manage.

And, also as usual, the seat beside you was the only one open.

“Hey,” Ace greeted, plopping down with a yawn and no suspicion.

“Morning,” you replied, already pushing a glass of orange juice in his direction without a second thought.

He blinked. “Whoa, you read my mind. I was just thinking I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “Coincidence, I guess.”

Ace grinned, utterly unaware of how long you’d been keeping track of the way he always reached for juice in the morning, never coffee, never water. Just juice. Always.

After a minute, he added, “Also kinda hungry… I forgot to grab a roll or somethin’.”

You wordlessly slid a small plate of warm bread and butter closer to him.

He gasped, delighted. “Seriously, you’re magic! You always have just what I need!”

You bit your lip to hide the fond curve of your smile. “Lucky timing, huh?”

Lucky timing.

That’s what he called it the other day when he tripped coming down the deck stairs and nearly face-planted—only to find your hand catching him in time. It’s what he called it when he accidentally left his hat on the upper deck and you “just so happened” to come by with it a few minutes later.

You didn’t mind. Not really.

It was kind of… endearing. In an Ace-way. He wasn't cold or careless—he just genuinely didn’t see it. The thought that you might be observing him, remembering the things he liked, and subtly trying to show him how much you cared? It never even crossed his mind.

You watched as he messily buttered a piece of bread, crumbs falling on the table. He looked content, humming a tune and swinging his feet like a child in a giant’s chair. And when he caught you watching, he gave you a bright smile—one so open and warm it made your stomach flutter.

“Y’know,” he mumbled around a bite, “you’re always around. It’s kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” you teased.

He nodded, mouth still full. “Mm-hmm. Like, comfy.”

The word hit somewhere soft in your chest. He didn’t even realize he was flirting back.

Later that day, a few of the crew were setting up for poker in the corner, but you were more interested in the commotion coming from the training area. You leaned against the railing, watching Ace spar with Marco. He was shirtless, flames licking at his fingertips as he dodged and laughed, clearly having fun.

Your gaze lingered on him. How could it not? He was strong, fast, alive with every movement.

And when he collapsed on the deck in dramatic defeat—Marco having pinned him with a blue-flamed armbar—he wheezed out, “Water… I need water…”

By the time Marco released him, you were already at his side, bottle in hand.

“Holy crap,” Ace said between breaths. “You’re, like… everywhere.”

“I told you,” you said casually, helping him sit up. “Lucky timing.”

He chuckled, leaning back on his palms and chugging half the bottle. “At this point, I’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel or something.”

You raised a brow. “You think your guardian angel would watch you get elbowed into the deck before offering water?”

Ace grinned. “Gotta build character, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest was warm with something fond and frustrating. How could he be so oblivious?

The truth was, you noticed everything about him. The way he only got grumpy when he was too hot or too tired. How he always tried to hide his hiccups when he laughed too hard. How he made sure the youngest crewmates never felt left out during meals, even if it meant giving them the last piece of meat on his plate.

You didn’t just like him. You admired him.

So yeah, maybe you rearranged your seat every meal to end up next to him. Maybe you kept his favorite snacks in your jacket pockets during long shifts. Maybe you started carrying an extra bottle of water—just in case a certain fire fist decided to exhaust himself in a sparring match.

He never asked. You just… wanted to.

And he just… didn’t notice.

It wasn’t until one particular night, under the stars, that things finally shifted.

You were both sitting on the edge of the deck, feet dangling above the sea. Most of the crew was asleep or out of sight. Ace had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and you handed him a second one without saying a word.

“Man, it’s like you read my mind,” he said for the hundredth time.

You sighed softly. “Maybe your mind is just easy to read.”

He looked at you, puzzled. “Huh?”

You gave a small, nervous smile. “I mean… I always seem to know what you need, right? I guess I just pay attention.”

There was a pause. The kind of pause where your heart beats a little faster, wondering if maybe, finally, he might catch on.

Ace blinked. “Oh. So you’ve got like, observation haki or something?”

You stared at him.

Deadpan.

“…Yeah. Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He beamed. “That’s so cool!”

You dropped your face into your hands.

But then—something changed in his tone.

“…Wait.”

You peeked up through your fingers.

Ace’s smile was still there, but it was… slower. Thoughtful. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. Every juice, every meal, every seat, every snack.

And then, like someone lit a match under his brain, realization bloomed across his face.

“…Wait.”

You watched the faintest red spread over his cheeks. He sat straighter. “Are you—? Have you been—? This whole time—?”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “You’re cute when you put the puzzle together.”

He gawked. “So it wasn’t just coincidences?!”

You snorted. “Ace, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then he laughed. It was loud, a little embarrassed, but full of warmth.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot,” you corrected, nudging his shoulder.

“…So does this mean,” he said slowly, “you like me? Like, like like?”

You raised a brow. “Only if you like me back.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours with a shy, crooked grin. “Well, now that I know… I’m definitely gonna start paying attention.”

You chuckled, nudging the bottle of water into his hand again. “Start with drinking water. Then we’ll work our way up to romance.”

Ace laughed, and this time, he didn’t call it luck.

POP QUIZ DONT SCROLL UP YOURE NOT ALLOWED TO SCROLL UP:

WHAT COLOR ARE HIS TITS- I MEAN TITS- I MEAN TITS- I MEAN TITS - I MEAN

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