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jessiriot14 · 2 years

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The Waffle House

AN: So this is a little story my friends help me come up with. Anytime we go to Waffle House they give me 3 characters to write about in a Waffle House. Probably some spelling and grammar errors, but otherwise enjoy!

Three exciting characters have been summoned to the House of Waffles through the power of the deity named Star. Mitsuri Kanroji, Nanami Kento, and Rumi Usagiyama or Mirko find themselves together. Now two of these characters know of Waffle House. However, Misturi is from a different period so she is very new to this concept.

“Hello..?” the green and pink-haired hashira asked as she entered the diner. She had never seen a restaurant quite like this. The friendly orange-haired waitress, and grey and red booths lined the sides of the establishment. The delightful scent of waffles and eggs filled the air.

“Welcome to Waffle House! Please, sit anywhere! I will be with you in a moment.” the oranged-haired waitress smiled and continued to cook. MItsuri nodded and looked over the booths and chairs. Mitsuri saw two other people sitting in the establishment. A handsome man wore a business suit that consisted of a white dress shirt underneath a tan blazer. Also, had matching tan slacks with light brown shoes. He wore this interesting necktie that had a dotted pattern.

Sitting on one of the stools was a woman that Mitsuri thought was pretty, even though she had…bunny ears? Was she a demon? Surely she couldn’t be, she was drinking coffee and had a plate of human food in front of her. Demons didn’t eat human food, they ate humans. Also, the gentlemen did not seem phased by her appearance. When Nanami first entered the diner he was put off by her rabbit ears and feet. He thought she might be a high-grade curse. If so, then there must have been a lot of people afraid of rabbits and beautiful women. However, he sensed no cursed energy from the mysterious woman.

“I love your hair, is it natural?” asked Mirko to Mitsuri. Mitsrui smiled and shrugged her shoulders, “Sort of. I ate a lot of sakura mochi and it turned this color.” Mikro nodded and chuckled, “Interesting story! Haven’t heard that before. I’m Mikro, a pro hero.” Pro hero? You could say that the demon slayers and jujutsu sorcerers could be heroes but pros? Odd.

Mitsuri sat a couple of seats down from the woman to be nice. She didn’t sense any danger or threat from the white-haired woman. “Mitsuri, love hashira.” Hashira, as in pillars? Pillars for what? Pro heroes and pillars, well hell. Pretty sure the waitress thought everyone was crazy. Nanami could not imagine how the waitress would react if he went into the conversation by introducing himself as a jujutsu sorcerer.

“Hashira? Love? You wouldn’t happen to be like Cupid? I need help in the relationship department.” Mirko laughed. “I’m just teasing you.” The love hashira giggled a little. She was used to that question so it was not uncommon. Especially if the person was not familiar with the hashiras. “Do you know what you would like to drink?” the waitress walked up to Mitsuri with her pen and pad.

“Oh uh,” Mitsuri glanced down at the menu. Coke? Sprite? What kind of drinks are those? Not to mention the interesting appliances the waitress had behind her. This was a little overwhelming. “Water will be fine please.” The waitress scribbled on her pad and nodded.

“Alright I will get that for you!”

The more the love hashira looked over the menu she realized this place was not Japan-based. Waffles, hashbrowns, Texas cheesesteak melt, well at least she recognized eggs. The other two seemed like they had been in a palace like this, while Mitsuri was trying not to panic. Mirko started eating her All-Star special. Sausage instead of city ham got hashbrowns instead of grits. Also had to get blueberry waffles, those were her favorite. As much as she trains she could eat like a Saiyan. Nanami ordered the Texas bacon egg and cheese melt. The eggs sunnyside up, since he enjoys the runny yolk.

“Here you go sir, Texas bacon eggs, and cheese melt. Sunny side up with hashbrowns. Thank you for being patient.” The waitress set his plate down in front of him. She also refilled his coffee mug while setting down some creamers for him. “No problem looks delicious. Thank you.” Nanami nodded as he glanced over his meal. He has been to Waffle Houses before with his least favorite companion. He is glad that Gojo is not here to make a fool of himself. Thank the gods.

The waitress handed Mitsuri her water and refilled Mirko’s cup of coffee. “Are you ready to order ma’am?” Mitsuri was watching the waitress as she would effortlessly take care of the other attendants. “What do you recommend? I have never eaten here before I’m afraid, so I would not know where to begin.” That made the waitress smile, she quickly washed her hands and as she dried them she pointed to a picture on the menu. “I recommend the hashbrown bowls. My favorite is the bacon, eggs, and cheese one. Cannot get enough of it.”

“Then I would like that please if it is not too much trouble of course.” Even though she was from a different period, Misturi was still respectful of workers. She knew how rude and impatient people can get when they are hungry. That never seemed to change with time, Mitsuri hoped she had enough money to tip the waitress well afterward.

“No problem at all dear, coming right up!” Mirko saw the waitress effortlessly bring out all the ingredients for the food. She looked over at the waitress and saw that she didn’t see a name tag. It’s not unusual for employees to adjust their uniforms for comfort, but not having a name tag was a little odd. Mirko would like to know the name of the woman doing her best to make the best food. “Excuse me, I don't think I caught your name.”

The waitress paused for a second glancing at Mirko then continued cooking the eggs for the bowl. “That’s not important, I am just a waitress here, to serve customers to the best of my ability.” How add, why didn’t she want to tell Mirko her name? Nanami and Mitsrui were fully engrossed in the conversation between the two. If the three attendants weren’t on edge before, they sure are now.

Mirko chuckled, “Come on, I would like to thank you for the delicious food personally. This has to be the best even though I have been to multiple Waffle Houses. It’s the least you could.” It’s just a name, what harm could a simple name do? As the waitress set Mitsuri’s food own in front of her she smiled and looked at Mirko. “I wish it would be that simple, but I do not have a name. Honest.”

“You do not have a name?” Nanami questioned. “That’s simply unheard of, what name did your parents give you?” He sat his coffee mug on the table and turned to the three women.

All they wanted to know was her name and she dodges the question by saying she does not have one. Even though Mitsuri was slightly unnerved by the situation she started eating her food. She was surprised by how delicious it was, she wanted to tell all the other Hashiras about this place. But that will have to be for another time. The three have more pressing matters.

The waitress shrugged and looked at the three. “I do not have parents. Well, let me backtrack. I have a creator, but I guess you could call her a parent” She giggled and started to clean up Mirkos plate.

Mirko watched her closely to make sure she wasn’t trying anything. Mirko could sense nothing from her, no malice, harm, evil, not even fear. She raised her guard, she had been trained in profiling people in case they could be villains. However, she could not get a read on the mysterious waitress. What is the endgame here?

“Creator? Are you human? Are…..Are you a demon?” Misturi asked.

“Nope.” She replied and set the dishes on the drying rack.

“Demon, that’s a little rude to ask. Do you have a quirk? Or are you a Nomu that the League of Villains created?” Mirko looked between Mitsrui and the mysterious woman.

“No.”

“Demons, villains, and quirks?” Nanami quirked his eyebrow. “She is a curse. Curses are created from human fear. If the fear is strong enough, a curse is created.”

“Curse?” Mirko and Mitsuri asked.

This is crazy, the woman had to be lying about what she is. How did she exist if she was not human, demon, nomu, or curse? The three just wanted to have a nice meal but they are second-guessing their years of training. Training to dispel curses, training to defeat villains, and training to kill demons. Now that they thought about it, how did they even get to this restaurant in the first place?

MItsrui tried to remember what events happened before coming into this modern place. She was on the way to a mission her crow, Urara, gave her. She was wandering around in a forest and then came upon the place.

Nanami was on his way home from a long, exhausting workday. He had done over time again for Gojo since the white-haired sorcerer did not want to bother with a slightly high-grade curse. He walked past the Waffle House, not even hungry, or wanting food, but something called for him to enter. The outside seemed normal and welcoming but as he stared at the sign he had to go in.

Mirko was looking for a place to eat. She had a late-night workout and got hungry afterward. Since not all restaurants are open 24/7 anymore and she was craving breakfast food, she decided on Waffle House. Sure, her nutritionist would scold her for going off her meal plan, but no food is bad food! Mirko could not remember the last time she had American breakfast food.

“If you are not any of those things then who or what are you?” Mitsuri asked.

The waitress looked up in thought for a moment then nodded. “I am simply an employee of this restaurant.”

She cannot be serious, if this is a joke then it is not funny. What is this woman's deal? If they were going to do something about her, they need to think of something fast. They were all experts in their craft, demon-slaying, sorcerer, and pro-hero. They could defeat her easily.

“Before you three try anything, I mean no harm or ill will. I just want to serve my customers and make them happy.” The waitress smiled. She had no malice in her words, she was telling the truth. Maybe they were jumping to conclusions too quickly, but could you blame them?

“Well, whatever you are, you make amazing food. Hey, since you do not have a name, could we give you one?” Mirko ate the last of her food and made sure she did not leave a mess.

“You would like to give me a name? Can they do that?” The waitress looked up. She seemed like she was asking someone that question, but it was not directed to the three. Who was she talking to?

Her brown eyes flashed a gold color for a moment. The waitress nodded and smiled.

“Okay, what name did you have in mind?” She smiled at the three as she started to clean up their empty bowls and plates.

“Oooh how about, Ichigo? You seem sweet like a strawberry.” Mitsuri suggested after drinking some water. After having the hashbrown bowl she could go for something sweet. Maybe some sakura mochi after she leaves.

“Ichigo is too common, how about Yumeko?” Mirko suggested. “You have any names to suggest Sir?” She asked Nanami.

Nanami shook his head, “I am not qualified in this area. You two would come up with better names than I.”

Sure Nanami could suggest names, but he would not want to impose on the women’s fun. In all honesty, he lost interest in the conversation after seeing that the waitress was not a threat. He looked at the clock on the wall, 9:00 it read. Was it 9? Nanami checked his watch and saw that it wasn’t ticking. Odd, he was sure his watch battery wasn’t dead. He had it changed about a month ago so why was it not working?

Beep beep

Mitsuri jumped at the sound of some mysterious device. She saw Mirko and Nanami pull out this odd rectangular thing. They read what was on their screen and started to gather their stuff. Mitsuri heard a familiar cawing in the window as she saw her crow.

“Looks like you three need to head out I presume?” The waitress smiled at the three. “Do not worry about paying, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? Won’t your boss get mad?” Nanami slipped on his coat and put on his glasses.

“We do not mind paying. Please we don’t want you to get into trouble.” Mitsuri tried handing her money, but the waitress politely refused.

She smiled again and began washing the dishes she gathered from them. “It’s quite alright, I do not need trivial things as money. If you three couldn’t guess already this is no normal Waffle House.”

“You are right about that.” Mirko gathered her bag and was about to head out when she looked back at the waitress. “I’ve got it, how about Lila?”

The waitress abruptly stopped washing, her eyes widened a bit, and looked at Mirko. “Lila?” She asked.

“Yeah, you look like a Lila.” Mirko nodded. “Thank you for the food, I do hope I will come here again.” Mirko waved and walked out of the restaurant.

As she walked out, Mitsuri and Nanami watched her leave. It looked as if Mirko disappeared into fog right as she stepped out of the place. This place was not normal at all. If by some miracle they do not forget this place right as they exited, they will need to do some research.

“It does suit you, thank you again for the food, Lila. Please take care of yourself. If you need anything, here is my business card.” Nanami left his card by the register and left.

“Last one to arrive and last to leave it seems. Thank you so much for the food! I hope to see you again and get to eat here!” Mitsuri went behind the counter and hugged the waitress.

The waitress was in slight shock by the sudden act of affection but did hug back. Interesting how good it felt to hug someone. Mitsuri let go and ran out of the store to see what mission her crow had for her.

The waitress waved at Mitsuri as she left. “Lila huh, is that name acceptable for you mistress?” The waitress asked.

Her eyes flashed green for a moment and a name tag appeared on her apron out of thin air. The tag read Lila in black, bold print. It seems her creator gained a liking to the name. Lila nodded and continued to clean the dishes once again. She started humming a random tune to pass the non-existent time as she waited for the next set of customers to stroll in.

“I cannot wait to see what interesting people you bring to me this time, mistress.” Lila smiled. “I do hope this interaction was to your satisfaction.”

Lila looked over the empty counter and she saw a small plate appear. On the plate was a small cake that read For your excellent service -Star. She smiled and set the cake to the side to enjoy later. She was still working after all and it was not proper to eat while working.

“Thank you, I shall enjoy that on my break. You do know how to make me happy.”

Ding

Lila smiled and dried her hands on her apron. “Welcome to Waffle House. Please, sit anywhere you like.” She smiled at the new customer who looked around curiously. “What can I get you to drink?”

#waffle house #my hero academia #mirko #nanami #mitsuri kanjori

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gastronomasonoma · 10 months

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Brunch at Kina’s Kitchen is the best in town!

Just when people think that the days of the hearty breakfast diner are gone, there’s places like Kina’s Kitchen in Sonoma.

This past Sunday I wanted to treat my sister to a birthday brunch. She loves the standard hash brown potatoes and sunnyside up eggs with either bacon or sausage.

Well, Kina’s goes beyond that by offering huevos rancheros and eggs Benedict and with a mimosa or gin fizz to go with it, we just knew instantly we made the right choice.

The eggs Benedict were delicious and the biscuits underneath the eggs were fresh made, no store-bought English muffins. The hollandaise sauce, was creamy and fresh, just the right amount. The ham/bacon was delicious at the right crispness yet tender and juicy.

The home fries were yummy with Kina’s own blend of spices and herbs. I ate every bite, nothing left to take home.

My sister enjoyed the huevos rancheros with Kina’s fresh made salsa and tortillas

My sister is very particular about how she likes the eggs cooked and Kina’s Kitchen didn’t disappoint. In fact, my sister wants to go back and bring clients, especially for morning business meetings.

I always enjoy going to Kina’s because the food is always delicious and service is excellent. I’m amazed at what the chefs and staff provide, always presenting new dishes or a unique take on a traditional dish.

Kina’s is open Wednesday through Sunday. Breakfast/brunch is served on weekends beginning at 8:00 AM.

For details and to view the menu visit the Kina’s Kitchen website. Or call, 707-935-3287.

#sonoma #Kina’s Kitchen #huevos rancheros #eggs benedict #Maxwell’s Shopping Center

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themessengercrow · 3 years

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Tenya’s patience

prohero!tenyaxgn!reader

warnings: Dacryphilia, smut, brat taming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger fucking, toys, the use of ‘sir’, mirror sex.

You thought that was it, the last straw. You’ve been tempting Tenya all day, teasing and fucking around with him around every corner. Feeling a little extra needy lately due to your boyfriend constantly stuck with his hero work-you figured maybe he was just as pent up. But somehow-each and every time-he still keeps his composure. You had sat on his lap this time around, knees straddling his thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re probably so bored-aren’t you” You faked a sympathy pout, ruffling your hands through his hair. He just tilted his head and gave you that warm smile he always does. “You wanted to spend some time together-i’d never get bored of spending time with you. Whether it's just watching this movie and cuddling or anything else '' He hummed, giving you a kiss on your forehead. You huffed and turned in his lap, leaning your back against his chest and sinking into his embrace.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that you had gotten bored, a bit bolder with your actions and decided to grind down on tenyas lap. He immediately stiffened up under you, his arms that were originally loosely wrapped around your waist quickly tightened around you, holding you down against his chest. You smirked and rolled your hips, hearing him take in a sharp breath “Are you sure you still want to watch the movie sir?” You went to look over your shoulder at Tenya but before you realized it the world spun and now you were face down on the couch. A hard smack to your ass was followed by tenya massaging the area he had smacked. “I would have liked to but it seems my little whore needs to be put in place.” His hand massaging your ass shifted to hold you by your waist, his free hand looped under your body to wrap around your throat, pulling you up so your back laid flush against his chest. “I was waiting for after the movie but you’ve given me no choice. You know the rules.” A shiver ran down your spine, trying to bite your tongue as one more cheeky retort was shot out “No, do remind me” You smirked. Tenya rose an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He moved closer, shifting you slightly so he could capture your lips. Foolishly you decided to let your guard down-tenyas kisses always had a way of stealing your breath away yet making you feel so so warm. He started to squeeze your throat, cutting off the circulation to your head and making you dizzy with the added lack of air from your kiss.

Tenya pulled away and used the hand that was holding your waist moved to unbutton your pants “Rule Number One- No talking back.” He slides his hand down into your underwear, and begins toying with you. Stars started to crawl across your vision and Tenya finally loosened his grip, finally letting you breathe. “I'll give you a free be this once because this will be a new rule. Rule Number ten- You listen to every word I say and you will finish after I tell you the rule. You’ll finish on my fingers and my fingers only. When you finish you need to repeat the rule so I know you learned it this time-understood? This will be your punishment everytime you question the ruling.” A bright red blush shot to your face as you gulped. You know you’re fucked.

When Tenya meant you would finish on his fingers and only his fingers he really meant it. While yes at some point Tenya brought a vibrator in because you “came too quick between rules 4 to 6” he would constantly keep it at a low thrum, slowly bringing you to the edge and then pulling the toy away. He could feel how your walls pulsed around his fingers, aching for something more. You finally made it up to Rule nine, grateful you were almost done with this torture. He had brought you back to the bedroom where a large mirror attached to the ceiling hung down, showing off your teary eyes and shaking legs as tenya brings you to the brink of orgasm once more before pulling away the vibrator again, slowing his fingers down to a near halt, pulling a cry out of you. You were close to sobbing at this point, whimpering and mumbling the words “I'm sorry sir, i'll behave now sir.” He loved it when he’s got you fucked so dumb all you know is how to plead and beg to him. You turn into such a good little hole for him. You whined and try rolling your hips, trying to look anywhere else but up at the mirror. Tenya took note of this, dropping the vibrator and using the free hand to grab your chin and force your head to look up as he moved you morre into his lap. He was still dressed up from work, not in a hero costume but more of a business attire with a nice button up and pair of black pants. He still looked so tidy and yet, looking at yourself you were a disheveled mess. You hadn't realized it but there were a few stray tears falling-mostly dried now. You looked between your legs in the mirror and whined, trying to rub your thighs together, roll your hips-get any sort of friction. Tenya chuckled, a small smile resting on his face. “Come now, I think you deserve it. Don’t break eye contact, do you understand?” your eyes immediately shifted to tenyas glaring red ones. You let out a moan as he immediately started fucking his fingers up into you. The arm encasing you against tenyas chest keeps you from arching your back too far-watching tenyas the entire time. You ended up winding down to incoherent babbling, begging for your permission to release yet not entirely ready for another wave of pleasure. “Go on my little citrus. Come for me.” His fingers hit that soft spot in you and all you could see was the ruby red of tenyas eyes as your body spasmed with pleasure. “Look at yourself” Tenya murmured into your neck and as you blinked the spots from your vision you looked at the wreck of a person you became. You ended up soaking the sheets the entire time he played with you, more tears streamed down your face “What do you see?” You hummed and you sniffled, trying to catch your breath “A-A dirty mess-” Tenya clicked his tongue and looked up into your eyes “Call yourself gorgeous.” You went to turn your head to look at him in the face but he tightened his grip on your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze up. “Look at the mirror and say it.” He growled. Your fucked out brain went blank, looking back up at yourself “I-Im gorgeous.” Your voice shook a little, voice raw from all the squealing and moaning you’ve been doing the past hour.

He shifted you in his lap to face him “Now look at me and say it” There was still a small part of you, trying to look away, trying to keep your face down as you mumbled. He grabbed your chin again, forcing you to look at him. “I said look at me. How can I know you’re being honest if you dont look me in the eye? This is part of your punishment. He shifted you so his thigh held you up between your legs and moved his other hand to squeeze your throat again “You and I both know you know damn well what the rules are. And if you do what you're told, I'll give you a reward.” He finally unzipped his pants, freeing his cock. “Now look me in the eye and say it.” He loosened his hold on your throat, allowing you to speak “Im-mm-goegeous” You shuddered, even with your fucked out state you were trying so hard not to grind down on his thigh. “Insatiable...but you’re correct-absolutely undeniably gorgeous.” He murmured, pulling you closer to him to kiss at your neck, raising you up to hover you over his keep “Now Keep going. I want to hear more about yourself while I fuck your tight little hole.” @izukus-bby You wanted a tag right my friend?

#I enjoy my eggs sunnyside up #bnha smut #tenya smut #bnha #bnha tenya iidea #dinkepinkle

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years

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Himbo Dad AU; Breakfast

Achilles opens the door to his house, and then walks into the kitchen his father cooking at the stove, Heracles eating from his dog bowl, loaded full of sausages, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, and eggs, the dogs face covered in grease, Achilles could tell the dog was probably on his second or third bowl though, he’d probably need to eat one more before his food coma could start.

Achilles sat at the large table in kitchen and greeted his father with sleepy yawn. “Mornin, dad.”

Jaune looks over his shoulder at his son, his hands never leaving the stove in front of him as he was cooking enough food for a feast, and greeted his son back in a warm, fatherly tone. “Morning, sleepy one, did you stay up all night at your aunt Saphrons? Or did you get some sleep?”

Achilles blushed a little. “I got some sleep…”

Jaune rose a well-groomed eyebrow. “A little? So, you don’t need to take a nap when you go upstairs? Cause, after breakfast, I’m going on a 100k, and could always use a strolling buddy, if your up for it~”

Achilles paled. “Uh, uh, no thanks dad, I might have stayed up all night with Adrian.”

Jaune sighed and shook his head. “It’s bad for growing boys to stay up all night, but it’s the weekend. Just make sure your ready for school tomorrow.”

“Ugh, school. Why can’t I just go to Sanctum like Adrian yet?”

“You’re only ten, value your childhood while you can.”

Achilles whispers “Yeah, like you haven’t told me all that hundred times.”

Jaune turned his head at Achilles his eyes narrowed. “Hmm, what was that? Sound like back sass, and back sass sounds like another 100-kilometer run, mister. If you really want to give up your childhood and go to Sanctum, you’ll have to start doing those runs every day.”

His son’s tanned skin turned pale at the statement. “Uh, no sir! Sorry, sir! Please don’t make me run with you, it’s like trying to keep up with speeding bullhead!”

Crossing the kitchen with a couple of long steps, and ruffle his son’s hair and puts several plates in front of him. “I’m just playing Killies, I would never make you do something that you don’t want to do, but, I’m just not ready for my little boy to grow up on me. So, please, just stay a little boy for a little while longer? For me?” Jaune says kissing his son on top of the head.

Achilles bats away his dad with a blush, and mumbles out. “Fine… Just long as you train me like you are Adrian, please and thank you.”

Jaune lets out a beaming smile. “It’ll be my pleasure, my little warrior. Now eat up, and get some rest.”

Achilles looks at his plate full of food, with cooked bacon, crispy hashbrowns with cheese and onions, pancakes decorated with his crest of a spear breaking two arcs, with spear being made of strawberries and whipped cream and the arcs honey, scrambled eggs dusted with salt, pepper, and local spices, and then a tray loaded with fruit. Served alongside a glass of tea and orange juice.

Achilles found he didn’t need much convincing to eat up, giving a rushed thank you, and with no thoughts on why his father had made more than ten times the normal amount of food for himself, Achilles, and Heracles.

The boy didn’t notice as several newcomers entered the kitchen, with almost all of them taking a seat around the table, with one going up behind Jaune, having to stand on their tip of their toes, before slipping their arms around his neck, leaning their chest into his back, and laying their head on his shoulders.

“Mornin Handsome~,” Robyn said into his ear.

Jaune shivered slightly at the feeling of her breath on his neck. “Hey there, beautiful, not that I don’t appreciate what your doing, but let’s keep the PDA to a minimum, Achilles is back and I don’t want to give him any trauma today.”

“Oh, is that so? No wonder you had us screaming like little banshee’s last night.”

“First off, don’t make it weird, second off, I have my room sound and vibration proof. Third, I’m making you breakfast, you don’t have to seduce me, you’ve already won.”

“Maybe, I just miss your touch.”

Jaune rolled his eyes and with an impossible to follow speed, he had Robyn cradled in one arm while still cooking.

He gave her a little peck on the nose, causing a blush to run across her tan skin. “There, that make you feel any better?”

Robyn had nothing to say, and merely blushing deeper.

Jaune returned back to cooking, one arm full of a blushing mess.

Achilles finally took a break from inhaling his breakfast to see his table no longer empty, but full of his… He didn’t know what to call them really, first to his left playing his hair was Ms. Fiona who used to watch him when he was little, but still hung out with his dad a lot. He didn’t mind her playing with hair though it felt nice. “I’d envy hair this nice if it didn’t tangle so badly,” He thought he heard her mumble. It was weird seeing her wear dad’s shirts though.

To his right was Ms. Schnee, she liked to do business with dad sometimes, something about hunting for the Argus Military based. But, it always bugged him that an Atlas General liked to a sleepover with dad, besides why did the general deal with contracts for Argus Military base, when she could have people there, do it? When he asked, she just said it was important for Generals to maintain connections with independent powers. Then gave him some lien to go buy a video game or something. Why she wore dad’s pajamas was beyond him.

The rest of the table was filled with Ms. Schnee’s friends? And Ms. Fiona’s friends, and oddly enough Ms. Nikos, their next-door neighbor… Actually, it’s not that weird, she practically lived over here.

Why they were wearing more of dad’s clothes than dad was wearing, he was only wearing a apron and a pair of shorts, was a mystery for another day.

The table seemed to notice him and gave him a series of hellos and good morning, he greeted them back, and got back to eating before they started asking about his grades and stuff. His social-studies weren’t great. He’d have to call Aunt Weiss or Blake for some help, Aunt Weiss would understand, plus she loved to spoil him. He knew Aunt Blake loved him, but deep down he was sure that she held a grudge for he bit her ears as a baby.

The sliding of plates across the table got everyone’s attention, a personalized plate for each seat at the table, along with bowls full of rolls, scones, and biscuits, baskets of bacon, sausage, and ham, and various pastries on plates.

Jaune put down Robyn into a chair, appreciating how his shirt looked on her, and took in the rest of the table with a pleased expression, really liking how his girls were looking wearing his clothes.

With a clap, he got everyone’s attention. “First, off enjoy. Second off, don’t show weakness Heracles will steal your food. Third, if it goes into the air or floor, it’s Heracles. Fourth, if you have leftovers, put them in Heracles doggy dish, he will love you forever. We, good? Alright, everybody dig in!”

A wave of giggles took over the table, before the sound of forks and spoons clinking over took the giggles.

Robyn looked at her plate hungrily, it full of roasted, seasoned tomatoes, a personal favorite of hers, large slices of ham and turkey, eggs sunnyside up, several slices of toast coated in butter and jam, a couple slices of bacon, mushrooms, baked apple slices, and to top it off a large glass of ice coffee.

Robyn gave Jaune a saucy glance, “I’d kiss you, if you hadn’t bruised my lips last night, by the way, are you trying to make me fall for you? It’s working~.” Robyn said before digging in.

Jaune gave a playful roll of the eyes. “I don’t need to try for something I already have.”

Next to Robyn, May sat in Jaune’s white undershirt, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to cover what the shirt barely covered with how loose it was on her. She groaned at her leader, but quickly resumed eating her breakfast of an omelette stacked full of ham, sausage, cheese, diced onions, and bacon on a bed of cooked hash browns, with a stack of pancakes on the side, with a ice vanilla latte on the side.

In-between Fiona and May, sat snuggly Joanna the only one besides Elm who could wear Jaune’s clothing without looking entirely ridiculous, but even then the flannel shirt was a size or two too big and she had to wear an undershirt underneath. She looked slightly amused at May’s annoyance and her leaders bad flirtation.

Her breakfast could be described as meat, all the meat and eggs she could have. Bacon? Check. Eggs? Scrambled, sunnyside up, omelet, and poached on toast. Ham? Yes. Turkey? An entire leg. Sausage? Links, patties, and summer sausage. Chicken? She had them on biscuits. Steak? With the eggs of course. Finally she had some Lox and other seafood, with a side of biscuits, various cheeses, jams, and a large strawberry protein shake and glass of water.

Fiona sitting next to Achilles wore little more than Jaune’s white long sleeve sweatshirt, not that she needed anymore as she wore it more like a dress from how big it was. She had given up on getting all of Achilles knots out of his hair, she had talked with Saphron and Terra before on how hard it was to get him to take care of his hair, she dreaded when Yang found out he started growing his hair out like her, but refused to take care of it properly. Anyway she was trying to get her lover’s son to open up to her a bit more.

Achilles was too consumed by eating to notice. Fiona let out a sigh and went to work on eat breakfast, Jaune was good to her, too good in fact and sometimes loaded up her plate more than she could eat, but she supposed growing up around seven sisters and then hanging out with huntress gave him a skewed view on how much she wanted to eat.

The plate was full of cooked mushrooms, baked tomatoes, a omelett full of leafy greens, onions, and vegetables, biscuits, muffins, pancakes, a yogurt parfait mixed with banana, nuts and strawberries, some scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and finally a large breakfast tea to finish it off. She had her work cut out for herself, but Jaune’s food was bar none the best in Argus.

Achilles was half way through his plate.

Winter scrolled across her Scroll, making sure her schedule was clear today… for reasons. She smiled when she saw that the day was clear along with tomorrow and most of the week, she pulled her, formerly Jaune’s pajama’s tight, and looked with a smile at her plate. She would never regret loaning Klein to Jaune so the man could learn the butler’s ways.

On her plate was a large waffle cover in chocolate custard with strawberries forming a heart in the center, her cheeks blushing slightly, Jaune always insisted she get all the love she was denied as a child. Also on the plate was sausage links, orange slices, blueberry muffins, some donuts, sliced ham, crackers, cheese, and some turkey. To drink was a simple black coffee.

To Winter’s immediate right was Harriet digging into her food, dressed only in a large red sweatshirt to cover herself. Her breakfast consists of toast, cheesy scrambled eggs, apple cinnamon oatmeal, berry smoothie, a couple bagels with cottage cheese, and some ham. A glass of water to the side. She was really hungry after all the, exercise she got last night. So conscious thoughts were a bit away.

Elm was the only one who was actually close to Jaune in size, but since he hit his second growth spurt he was almost a head taller than her, with even broader shoulders! That said while his clothes hung loosely on her, it wasn’t nearly as bad as say on Fiona. Elm wore a simple robe and undershirt with boxers on underneath. She wasn’t much of a morning person, but she managed through simple questions when asked.

Her breakfast was similar to Joanna’s, only even larger. With an omelet loaded to bursting with steak, and an ever larger caffeine chocolate protein shake, an entire plate with hashbrowns full of meat and cheese and the occasional onion.

Next to Elm was the last lady of the table, Thetis Nikos, mother to late Pyrrha Nikos. She wore Jaune’s robe and a black t-shirt. Her breakfast was a parfait loaded with fruit and nuts, a stack of pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs, a muffin and a cup of coffee.

Finally Jaune had his own plate… Platter, he had a platter, full of every meat he had all sizzling, crispy and delicious, all the eggs, all of them! A waffles, pancakes, oatmeal, muffins, protein shakes and smoothies, sausage and toast, his plate full was nearing total collapses.

Breakfast went on for a while, everyone scraffing down as much as them could, Joanna, Elm, Jaune, Achilles, and Thetis going for second, eventually it was all gone with what little scraps being given to Heracles.

“You spoil us, you know?” Elm called out to Jaune, holding her full belly.

“Yeah, you don’t have to cook for us everytime we swing by. I'm down for going out for breakfast, I just don’t understand how you have the energy, when,” She wiggles her eyebrows at Jaune. “You do the most exercise around here.”

A series of groans emerged around the table. Achilles could only nod, his dad did work out a lot.

Winter coughed at that, and then spoke. “I concur with that statement, I feel the time could be used more, pleasantly.” A blush rose on her face. “If I ordered catering, you wouldn’t have to rise two hours early to make breakfast for everyone.” She then said under her breath. “And then you wouldn’t have to leave the bed so early.”

May smirked at her from across the table. “You just don’t wanna lose your big spoon? Do you princess bed hog?’ Her smirk growing deeper at Winter’s atomic blush.

“Alright, alright, I get it, but I like cooking for everybody,” Jaune said a pearly smile, making the women at the table go weak in the knees. “Anyway, I have get up early anyway, to improve myself, and keep my body top of the line.” The weakness came back in full force for the women, remembering the taste they got last night of how top of the line his body was.

“Now, who’s up for a 100k run!” Jaune asks.

Only for all of them to groan, as they felt the soreness across their bodies from last night.

“Fine, I guess you girls got plenty of exercise last night.” Jaune said with a smirk.

Achilles didn’t get why the women around his dad were so weird, but it didn’t matter to him that much, they were in a way family to him, sure they weren’t always around, but when they were he enjoyed it, and all of them united in their shared fear of his father’s insane physical routine.

#Jaune is a himbo #Himbo dad #Achilles Arc

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dashielldeveron · 5 years

Text

Viper VII: De Minimis.

Summary: It’s overstimulation, but not the kind you want.

Warnings: swears, the law. Dogs and cats living together (mass hysteria).

You woke up numb.

Slipping out of the guest bed, you patted Trout behind her ears, and she meowed and flipped over. You lifted Tom’s keys from the bowl by the door and went for a drive before dawn.

While the sun began to rise over the distant city skyline, you made the first purchase of the day for a 7-Eleven and sat in the car outside of Tom’s house to enjoy half of an icee before thinking about it too hard and setting it aside.

You hadn’t gotten a good look at it last night, but Tom’s house in daylight was really something. It kind of pissed you off. It used to be a grist mill, but Tom had added on rooms, keeping with the worn, stone façade, and had taken off the water wheel long ago—a patchwork house. What’s more, it was out in the middle of theoretical nowhere. Once you got out of the trees, you could see the city out in the distance, but it was like it wasn’t even there if you didn’t know it was. He didn’t have a roommate, or anything; he owned the thing.

You sneaked into the house, careful not to let your bags rustle, but it’d been a waste; voices drifted under the swinging door to the kitchen. So, you let the car keys clatter into the key bowl, and the conversation in the kitchen paused for a moment.

Tom opened the swinging door and toed the doorstop underneath it. “Where’ve you been, sweetheart?” His smile was infectious. “You know how much I hate waking up to an empty bed.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s not empty if you’re still in it.”

“Let me help you with those,” said Tom, and he took your two, plastic bags and walked into the kitchen. “Where’d you go?”

You followed him, his bare feet sticking to the tile. “I’d think the 7-Eleven logo would make it obvious.”

“Good morning, V.” Harry sat with crossed legs on the counter, already drinking.

That explains why Tom’s acting weird. Okay, did Harry and Sam know you worked for…? Wait, no, they didn’t know you were the Viper. They still thought you were dating, though. They think you’re expendable. What’s Tom told Harry this morning?

Follow his lead.

“Must say, you look less intimidating when you’re wearing my brother’s old clothes,” said Harry, eyes flittering down your body. You’d just pulled some shit out of a dresser last night to sleep in, and it’s not like anyone at 7-Eleven has ever seen soap.

“It’s completely normal, Harry; there’s no need to comment on it. Why’d you go out?” Tom slid the bags from off his arms onto the counter next to the sink, where he’d gotten out an egg carton and vegetables.

“I was getting soap,” you said, “and other toiletry shit. If I don’t have my normal shampoo, I’m gonna have a conniption.”

“Got it,” said Tom, bending to retrieve a frying pan from a drawer, “Grounding. Makes sense.”

“I heard about yesterday,” said Harry, and he set his glass aside to push himself off the counter, “Sorry about that. ‘S gotta be tough.”

The apartment? The fight? Polson? Which one’s he talking about? “Yeah, I, uh. Thank you. If it’s all the same to you, I don’t really feel like talking about it.”

Tom shot you a look over his shoulder. Smooth.

“Tom, where do you keep—do you have any chives?” Harry opened the refrigerator and stuck his head in, shifting his weight to one foot.

“Spice cabinet. Corner,” he said, jerking his head in that direction.

“Oh, ho, look at Mr. Fancy Man who can afford a spice cabinet,” said Harry, and he shut the fridge and walked in that direction.

“Hey, baby,” said Tom, cracking an egg into a tin, “What do you want in your omelette? Cheese? Peppers?”

Someone is willing to make you a warm thing to eat. You need to eat to fuel your body so that you can function. Take care of yourself. Someone is willing to help you do that.

“Actually, Tom, I’m just gonna have coffee. I don’t think I can eat anything right now. Too early.” And the icee stain on your tongue was still there. Glancing around, you—where’s the…?

“Oh, I moved the coffee maker since you were last here,” said Tom, giving you an easy smile, “It was getting in the way. It’s on the other side of the fridge, now.”

And so it was. As coffee dripped out of the nozzle, you had to wonder that if lying to his family comes so easily to Tom, who was exempt? Maybe Harrison, or perhaps some past girlfriends. Odds were, Tom kept everything close to his chest.

Did his family think you lived with him?

What reality are you playing into?

It’s too early for this.

By the time Tom was handing Harry’s fucking omelette with chives and Other Things, you were riffling through the plural flavours of creamer Tom had on hand. The luxury of choice.

“C’mon, sit down at the table with us,” said Tom, pinching your hip before washing the raw egg off his hands.

“Is it cool if I talk shop around your woman?” Harry was saying as you and Tom joined him at the kitchen table, “I know she knows about the maf—the family, but I don’t know to what extent.”

Tom squeezed your knee under the table, because he’d seen how you handle men who talk like you aren’t there. If that’s the view Harry has of you, then you can play along.

“Oh, please do,” you said, shifting in your seat, “It’s a turn-on.”

Tom struggled to swallow a bite of his eggs.

“Right, then,” said Harry, “Sam’s out with his crew delivering Abel from Sunnyside to Sugar Hill. Boundary crossing isn’t an issue for Abel, usually, but the D’Aleos have got a price on his head so big it’s wishing on a Zoltar. Abel hasn’t been able to get to the Whick house in time for moving his shit—wish he’d stop dealing in cocaine; the market’s unreliable—”

“Is he connected to whoever’s enabling the kids in Southside?” Tom set down his fork.

“Don’t know. Konstantin might be.”

“Tell him to stop. Four college kids have been admitted to the hospital this month for overdosing. There are shitty old men who can afford to buy it; let them.”

Harry took a sip of his morning liquor. “Move it where?”

“I’d rather he stopped, but if he can’t find anything else, the Flatiron or Garment districts. Can’t go to Tribeca or SoHo, because the police have a deal with the Fratellis in SoHo, and we’ve made an agreement with Tribeca not to deal there.” Tom pinched his lower lip. “Actually, put Abel in contact with Haz and get him involved in something else. Pass off his business to someone else. I don’t want it under my roof.”

Harry swallowed omelette with effort. “I’ll tell them. When’s the—”

You zoned out. You didn’t mean to. It started with focusing on your coffee’s warmth and how the mug fit well when you cupped it, and then you vaguely wondered what else you would have to acquire, besides the toiletries you bought. New clothes, for one. You had a change of work clothes at Osseous in a duffle bag, but other than that, you were now the owner of a single outfit (and one bra, damn it). Prescriptions. Cat food. Other cat stuff. Would Trout and Tessa get along…?

You snapped out of it when the back door creaked open. Tom, standing, put a hand on your shoulder, and he strode to welcome Sam into the kitchen, along with six or seven capos, Harrison, and a short woman wearing stilettos at this hour in the morning. The men—you knew their names and faces, but your brain scrambled them; you weren’t up to discerning which was which. You went to stand by the coffee machine, feeling small and in the way. It was too loud, anyway, and you couldn’t really concentrate on the conversation. Something felt off.

“…go well?”

“More or less. We ran into police we ain’t got on the payroll three blocks out of Sugar Hill. Didn’t much care for—”

The woman who’d been close behind Sam took a brief scan of the kitchen before losing interest and getting on her phone, leaning most of her body weight against the counter while mindlessly scratching Sam’s back. Deciding she needed to feel at home, you crossed to her.

“Hi,” you said, mirroring her body language as you too leant on the countertop, “Are you doing okay?”

Her eyes flitted from her phone to you, not looking you in the eyes but instead looking you up and down. “Yeah.”

“Do you need anything? Bathroom, something to drink?”

“No,” she said, scrolling through instagram.

Your stomach lurched. Maybe you should eat something. “You sure?” You raised your mug to your lips. “It wouldn’t be any trouble.” No response. “Did anything happen this morning?”

Her head lifted, her hand on Sam’s back stilling. “Hm? Did you say something?”

“I was wondering if anything unusual happened on the job today.”

“Nah,” she said, liking a post, “Didn’t know something was going on…” Trailing off, she opened a photo set and swiped through it. “…until it was over.”

“Well, if you’re ever out with this lot, or anything, and you don’t feel safe, then you can contact me,” you said, and you tore a paper tower off the roll to write down your number.

“Reno,” she said—she had turned her head towards a capo, “Jay says that you were right to call him out like that. He thinks it was funny.” Back to you. “I don’t need a direct line to Tom. Sam is great. And I don’t wanna get together and have a little girlfriends’ club.”

“All right, but if you ever—”

“Not interested.”

“Understandable. I hope your day is peaceful,” you said and retreated back to the coffee maker.

It still felt great to be mistaken for Tom’s girlfriend, but you could’ve explained yourself. You weren’t sleeping with Tom, even though—and you cringed at the thought—it had crossed the mind of everyone present.

“—being shitty about it, but they’re causing enough trouble that the other families are getting nervous,” said Sam, accepting a drink from Harry, “If we’re not careful, we’re gonna have to go to the mattresses.”

“I won’t allow that,” said Tom, “I’m doing my goddamn best to keep this city under control. Tighten watch on Southside, then. Move some of the guys working on—”

More coffee? More coffee. Palpable, warm thing to centre on. Try a different flavour creamer.

No. Pay attention, damn it; this is your work they’re talking about.

(You chose a fancier creamer this time.)

Tom was sitting on the kitchen table, now. “Did you find anything on the arsonist?”

Harrison shook his head, sucking in through his teeth. “Spent all night searching, and not a thing—”

Frowning, you took a few steps to enter the conversation, but the circle was tight; their body language was closed off (arms crossed, heads ducked slightly, feet only pointing towards others in the conversation, backs towards the rest of the room). You listened for a place to insert yourself into the conversation, but it never happened.

“At least now we know Fratelli and D’Aleo aren’t culpable. They weren’t even aware of a pattern. Fratelli sends his condolences, by the way.” Harrison jerked his head in the direction of the capos, talking amongst themselves about the next lift (a mark you’d assigned yesterday). “Sent the lads across the boroughs to interrogate isolated groups and petty gangs, and no one knows a fucking thing.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Talk to Sheila Lombardo about it?”

Haz shook his head. “Out of town. Out of country, actually. She’s in Munich. We left a persuasive message.”

Shifting his jaw, Tom sighed, staring at the floor before catching your eye. He extended his arm and beckoned you come to him. “We got anyone in town who’s good with mapmaking?” He slid an arm around your waist, his fingers dragging across the small of your back first.

Yes, fuck. Fucking. Physical fucking comfort. His arm’s around your waist; no one’s ever done that. It’s a warm, comfortable weight that you’re going to feel the absence of. “DeForest should—”

He gave you a sharp squeeze. He wasn’t talking to you.

“Last I know, Kelley’s free,” said Harry. “He’s just finished a commission in Brooklyn.”

“I hear Nyota and DeForest are in town, too,” said Harrison, nodding almost imperceptibly at you, “should you want to contact them. Neither is on payroll, but they’re good.”

“At your discretion,” said Tom, “pick one and tell him to draw up the city with the fires in relation to the sewer cases. Work with him to make connections.”

Sam rattled off some bullshit, and the capos were growing louder, a constant lull in a background nearer than it should’ve been. You sipped your coffee, cupping it with both hands. The first creamer had been better. Listening attentively, Tom gently took your mug and took a few swallows himself before handing it back to you. Rude.

“Then what about her flat, then?” Harry jerked his thumb in your direction.

“Do another sweep of the building tonight,” said Tom, “Two people should go to the fire station and two more to the police. Find whatever was the fire starter.”

“Did I tell you what happened when we were up in New Utrecht?” came a capo’s voice.

“You should’ve been there,” said another.

“We’ll do another search of her flat, then,” said Harry, “Didn’t find anything worthwhile last night, but if you think it’s profitable.”

“You sure it’s worth it?” Sam grimaced. “The only recognisable thing we saw last night was what must’ve been bookshelves.”

“We’re gonna be meticulous about this one,” said Tom.

“I hadn’t made it there in time.” A capo. “I’d’ve rather been in Jersey than be in that house that night, but it was part of the job, so we went.”

“No, you wouldn’t’ve,” said the one next to him, elbowing him.

“Swear it on my life,” said the first, holding up his hands, “The atmosphere was that off.”

“Made me realise why book burnings are among the first ways to protest,” said Harry, “It’s just sad. Unnecessary. But I couldn’t identify fucking anything besides that.”

“I expect you to follow through.”

“All right, I guess, but we ain’t gonna find anything but ashes.”

“Haz,” you said under your breath, and Harry talked over you as he shook Tom’s shoulder. “Where’s Zendaya?”

He took note of the Hollands’ exchange before replying. “She said she’d be in the Heights.”

“She said?”

“I don’t know.” Haz scratched the back of his neck. “That’s from our last contact.”

“May I see?”

Her contact name had a heart by it.

Z: Gonna be in Washington Heights today. You need me?

Harrison: Don’t worry about it, babe. Today’s covered. Free at 1845 hours. Watch starts at 2330 Manhattan. Meet in the break?

Harrison: Can be at mine or yours, but let me advertise that I’ve cleaned recently.

Z: Busy tonight.

Z: Maybe a couple of days.

Harrison: I’ll call you later.

Z: Don’t. Busy with work. Could compromise me.

Harrison: Gotcha. Check in with me at some point.

“She hasn’t been answering calls, either,” said Haz. “It was two days ago, but the arson got in the way of me worrying.”

You returned his phone, and Tom tightened his grip on your waist (hell yeah). “How often does this happen?”

Harrison leant in closer, crossing his arms. “More and more recently, but she usually tells me she’s alive in the morning.”

“Sound good to you, babe?” Tom pulled you closer—you faced him, mug knocking against his chest; his hand splayed flat across your back.

“Does what?”

“—a complete disaster, seriously fucked up,” said a capo, “Not gonna do that again.”

“Can’t afford to make any more mistakes on the job,” said another.

“You weren’t listening?”

“I plan to try again next Thursday and see if it’s any different.”

“She and I were talking. My fault.”

“If you can manage to bat it away from him one more time, then it’s in the bag.”

“Sweetheart?”

The sound of the other woman’s long nails scratching against the thick fabric of Sam’s suit cut over the noise for a split second.

“Excuse me.” You set your mug on the counter with a shaky clink and left, retreating to the first door connected to the kitchen—the laundry room.

You shut the door behind you, sighing at the sound of the latch clicking, and you sank down against it. You made a frustrated noise and pushed yourself up with effort, and you placed one hand on the washing machine—cold edges, warm centre, throbbing, low white noise—and the other on the pantry door—rough wood grain (vertical), smooth paint, cool toned, squeaky. You flicked off a piece of dog food sticking to your foot, and, taking a deep breath, you bent to rest your forehead on the dryer.

The door creaked open and shut. “Viper? Viper, are you okay?”

You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead into the dryer’s edge further. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

“Right, right, of course.” Tom rubbed his palms together and then clenched his hands. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m,” you said, “I’m tired.”

Tom was at your side, close enough to feel his body heat but not enough to touch you. Damn respectful man. “Is it me? Did I go too far?”

“A bit, yeah,” you said, standing upright and reaching up to feel the indent in your forehead, “They know it was my apartment; they went through it. How much did you tell them about me?”

“Sam and Harry know you’re the Viper now. Still think we’re dating, so they can hold a conversation with our mom about our social lives. Quick briefing, no time for contradictions.” He bit his thumbnail. “Those capos are from Sam’s crowd. Don’t think they directly know you’re the Viper; they just know you’re important to me.”

“The same with Sam’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Would’ve been nice of you to update me.”

“All right,” he said, “I will next time. You followed along just as well, though.”

You jumped to sit on the dryer, your legs dangling next to him and your hand less than an inch away. “I can’t be on top of my game all the time.”

Tom turned around, resting his elbows on the dryer—his forearm grazed your thigh. “How can I help? What do you need to be comfortable here?”

“So I am camping here for the time being.”

“If you want to go to a hotel, that’s fine,” said Tom, tapping his thumbs together, “but seeing as you’d better go into hiding for a while, I figured this might be more convenient for you.”

No way in hell are you leaving. You’re going to learn as much about Tom from his house as long as you can—although the thought of being a burden crossed your mind. “I figured.”

“It was a near-direct attack on you, or at least, it was too much of a coincidence.”

The two of you were silent for a moment, with you swinging your legs to the muffled sounds of an argument in the kitchen.

“If it’s it’s money—”

“It’s not,” you said, “You know what you pay me.”

He cocked his head but said nothing.

“If you’re asking what I was doing in a crappy apartment, it was too much of a hassle to move.” You prodded the pantry door closed with your foot. “After sending some to my mother and paying off my student debt, I didn’t really have anything to do with it. Sent some to Dr. Prine for her law journal. Some to Grace and her women’s centre. An anonymous donation to the Morgan Memorial Hall of Gems; Ms. Pham was complaining, and if she knew I did it, she wouldn’t shut up. Everything else is in a savings’ account. I can pay rent, if you want. I don’t want to be a freeloader.”

“If it makes you feel better.” Tom shrugged. “But you’re staying?”

“If you’re okay with that. It’s nice for Trout to have this much space.”

His mouth twitched upwards. “It’s fine. It’s a big house, and it’s just Tessa and me.”

“You’re used to living alone,” you said, and you slumped back atop the dryer, the timer knob cutting into the back of your neck as you laid your hands on your stomach. “I’ll keep to myself, I swear. I can be clean; I’ll cook my own shit. You won’t see me if you don’t want to. I’ll be the most boring roommate ever for you.”

“I doubt that,” said Tom, smiling.

“And you don’t have to worry; I’ll do my own grocery shopping—I have to get new clothes at some point, replace my linens. Move pharmacies. Get new prescriptions. Find a new—”

“Viper, honey, you don’t have to be so wor—oh, my God.” He took your hand and climbed on top of the washing machine, and he reached up to smear off your tears—close to cupping your face, but so far: his fingertips touched your skin; the full length of his fingers and palm did not. Scanning your face for any other clues, he opened and shut his mouth, tightening his hand around yours and resting them in your lap. Kept silent. Waited for you.

No one’s ever done that for you.

“I’m tired,” you said, licking your lips (his eyes flickered to them for a moment), “I’m so, so tired. I don’t know rightly what, but I can’t do it. It’s exhausting. It’s a lot. I just want to sleep and not have to put on a show for one minute. I don’t want to keep it up all the time. I don’t think I can. I’m—I’m tired.”

And Tom waited.

“They burnt my books, Tom,” you said, “They burnt my fucking books.”

“My library’s your library,” said Tom, dragging his fingertips down your cheek and letting it fall to your lap, where they joined his other hand in holding yours. “Do whatever you want with it. You can add whatever you want, take what you want.”

“It’s so fucking trivial—”

“It’s not.”

“—but thank you. Thanks.” You sniffed, rubbing an eye with the heel of your palm. “I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up over this. It’s so dumb.”

“Your fucking flat burnt down, Viper. It’s the most logical reaction in the world.”

“I’m gonna need to get stuff for Trout and tell my therapist my address has changed.”

“I’ll take care of it. Let’s put aside what you need for a while,” he said, brow furrowing, “Viper, what do you want?”

You were taken aback. Sitting up, you took a moment before saying, “I want space, and I don’t. I don’t know anything. I just know that I can’t be alone.”

Raising his eyebrows, Tom nodded. “Done. You set the boundaries. I’ll follow your lead.” He managed a weak smile. “Although, I’d like it if you didn’t come into work for a few days to recover.”

“I can do that. I probably should,” you said, “I will. I’ll stay here. Just—please don’t tell me anything for a bit. I don’t think I’ll be able to recover worrying about what’s going on at work.”

“Agreed. You can have leave for as long as you want. I want you to leave it all to me.”

So, you slept for the rest of the day.

And the next day.

And the next.

***

Setting aside the astronomy book and your growing, hand-drawn star map, you covered a yawn and shut the window. Ensuring Trout, curled into a ball on your pillow, really was asleep, you flipped off the light switch and made your way to Tom’s room.

You listened through the door.

“I’ve got the Murtagh notes here.” His muffled voice spoke into a phone, and someone on speakerphone answered. “I’ll get them to you tomorrow. I’ve already looked through them, but I want you to cross-reference them to the Bauman folder, yeah.”

He’s doing work you usually do. Cute.

You knocked.

“Call you back,” said Tom as you opened the door, and he ended the call and muted the newscaster. “Are you doing okay? Need anything?”

Shaking your head, you said, “I wanted to be near you. I don’t have a reason.”

He grinned, which he suppressed into a close-mouthed smile that was almost a straight line. “Come on in, then. I’ll clear all this.” He straightened some stacks of files and was placing them on his bedside table when you joined him on the bed (the bed). “Something you wanted to talk about? Then why don’t you pick out a movie; we can both chill for a bit.”

Halfway through The Rocketeer (lying too close to each other, but still not touching; the closest was Tom’s triceps grazing the top of your head—he had folded his arms behind his head), Tom’s phone beeped. “Ffffuck,” he said, “That means it’s important. Otherwise it’s on silent.”

You tore your gaze away from the screen, instead taking in the curve of his bicep, the rise and fall of his chest, the—the deep scowl on his—

“Viper, you’ll want to see this.”

“I don’t want to see anything unless it’s your bare pectorals,” you said.

A brief smile, fading into a wince. “I mean it, Viper.”

“I’m on leave.”

You took his phone when he held it out.

A screenshot of Zendaya’s instagram account. The most recent post: a bedroom selfie. Zendaya was asleep, her hair spread across her pillow. The one who’d taken it was a shirtless man, pale, no discernible skin marks. Face cut off above a caustic grin. Black stubble. Sharp teeth. Necklace with a charm—a bell. Both of them under the covers; otherwise, it’d be exposed skin.

And a caption:

When you find out she’s all hat and no cattle Then you find out why a snake starts to rattle

***

de minimis: about the small things.

***

taglist: @hollandroos @bornsickbutilove @parsleysbaby @madmadmilk @magstorrn @tomhollandd @pparkerwrites @qxeen-of-hearts @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @parkerbassett @paradoxparker @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gryffinpuffs @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue @cassiopeiaskies

#tom holland #tom holland/reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #mob au #mob tom #Mob!Tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #viper au #dash it all

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halohamilton · 5 years

Note

some lazy sunday morning fluff maybe?

Louis wakes up to soft kisses being placed from his shoulder to the bottom of his spine. He groans, slowly blinking until he adjusts to the sunlight.

"Morning, sunshine," Harry rasps in his ear, his body laying over Louis', covering him.

Louis lets out another groan, squirming away. "Get off me, you oaf," he grumbles, turning into the pillow again.

"No," Harry whines, poking his ribs, "I made you breakfast though--- full english."

That perks his interest. He looks up a little, eyes still barely opened. "Eggs sunnyside up?"

"Yes," Harry sighs, rolling his eyes, "I know my boyfriend--- husband--- by now."

Louis can't help but smile at that. He turns around, Harry falling onto his side of the bed, propping himself up with his elbow and looking down at Louis.

"Husband," Louis repeats with a beaming smile, "still not used to that."

Harry giggles. "Me neither," he confesses, "to be fair, it's only been a week so, you know, happy one week-iversary of being married."

Louis grins again because of course Harry will say something like that.

"Happy one week-iversary to you too, you dork," Louis presses a kiss to his cheek, matching his position.

"Are you going to come join me for breakfast now, husband?" Harry asks, his dimples deep as he smiles at Louis.

Louis loves him very much. "Absolutely.... husband."

Harry feigns a pornstar worthy moan. "God, I'll never not get turned on by that."

Louis blushes. "Who did I even marry, honestly?"

"You married the best thing that's ever happened to you--- your words not mine," Harry says with a lop-sided grin.

"Damn right, I did," Louis finally kisses him properly, "come on, husband, let's go enjoy some breakfast together."

Harry smiles softly. "Let's go, hubby."

Louis snorts. God. Hubby. Why does he like the sound of that?

#asks #anon #drabbles #thank you love!

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107thbarnes · 5 years

Text

3:15 | bucky barnes

requested: bucky x reader with glasses

summary: basically in a lookout with bucky who loves to poke fun with glasses jokes/antics

a/n: got carried away but its okay cause it’s cute,,, enjoy fellas & feedbacks are so greatly appreciated! (i wear glasses too so shoutout to everybody who needs glasses, we’re in this togetha)

—————

“You brought a book to lookout?”

Bucky incredulously looked at you, throwing his jacket on the bed. He shrugged his shoes, still eyeing you through the book, as he shook his head in disbelief. He has just gotten back from his evening run— spying, as he surveyed the surroundings where the two of you will be stuck in for two weeks. It’s been the eighth day and you’re already bored as it is.

Putting down the book on your stomach, as you leaned against the headboard, you tilted your head at Bucky who’s currently taking off of his shirt. Ridiculous. The most hated habit of his from the Tower yet he brings it here.

“I’ve got nothing else to do,” you said, crossing your legs as you chucked your book at Bucky. It hit him on his metal arm as he coincidentally turned. “Can you not also take off of your clothes when I am here?”

“I thought you like the view?”

“You’re lucky I don’t have another book to throw at you.”

Bucky threw the book right at you, making you move in the bed. The action made your glasses slid down your nose partially, and you irritably pushed it back. He disappeared into the bathroom with a towel slung on his shoulder as he chuckled softly as he watched you settling against the headboard again. Sighing, you try to find where you left off before Bucky has disturbed your reading. You badly wanted to read on one side but the situation with your glasses is annoying. You know how it is when you lean on one side, your glasses move against your nose and suddenly they’re misappropriated on your face.

Moments later, Bucky emerged from the bathroom and the steam went right through your glasses because of the small confinement. He knew how much you hated it, and that bastard walked out of the bathroom with a damn smile on his face. His hair was sticking to his face, and he bent down right across form you, making the water splash on your glasses with tiny droplets.

“Bucky! What the fu—.”

“Language, please.”

“I am right here!”

“Oops, didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, please!”

Bucky spent another minute drying his hair with his towel, and you’re back with the book. This is so much better than using the sniper’s lenses by the window as you tried to look for any incoming men who will do some batshit crazy things and it makes you yawn, taking out the bad guys so many times.

“It started snowing outside, did you see?” Bucky called out as he headed towards the small kitchen to try to make some breakfast for the two of you.

“Brr,” you shivered, following him as you sat on the table, still carrying your book. “Was it cold outside?”

“Yes.”

He placed down two mugs on the table, and cracked some hot cocoa packets over them. While he waits for the kettle to boil, he made some sunnyside ups as he toasted slices of bread as well, because eggs and bread are the only thing left in the fridge to cook. But you’re not complaining since Bucky can cook wonderfully. Breakfast food has been his specialty for the time being. You stuck to your book, your eyes following sentence after sentence as you’re stuck in your imagining world. Bucky whistled softly as he placed down the eggs on the table, still waiting for the toast and kettle. He used this time to let you read more as he exited the kitchen to walk to the window to check some unusual activity.

Of course, there won’t be any, I was just outside, he thought.

Bucky walked back, and once hearing his footsteps on the hardwood, you place down the book as he took the kettle off of the stove and sat across from you. He poured some hot water on yours first, then his. You twirled the cocoa around your mug, waiting for the hot steam to lessen but it was too hot and Bucky has already starting to sip some from his.

Screw it, you thought.

You brought the mug right to your mouth, already seeing the hot steam cover your glasses and you’re annoyed, and impatient that you do not care at all. Placing down the mug, Bucky chuckled across from you as you took your glasses off and wiped them clean with your shirt.

Classic hot steam and mug situation with glasses. Wonderful.

“Hey.”

“What, Bucky?”

You were too busy slicing your toast to look up from your plate but Bucky didn’t say another word, and you ignored him.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“Look up.”

“Why?”

Silence.

“Look up.”

Putting down the knife on the plate, you rested your elbows on the table, habitually adjusting your glasses. Bucky grinned now that he has your attention, and he suddenly and stupidly lifted his arm away from his seated body and raised two fingers up. You groaned at the notion, going back to eating.

“Look up.”

“Fine. I’m looking up.”

Bucky grinned. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You looked at his fingers, and he wiggled it. Bucky tucked in his hair that flew behind his shoulders then raised three fingers as if to fool you. He’s making a fool of himself, and you groaned playfully— equally annoyed with the person you’re stuck with.

He used to be quiet with you, timid, now he does stuff like this.

“None,” you deadpanned. “If you keep doing that.”

“I still have my metal arm.”

“Even your metal fingers.”

“But then you have to take my metal arm off to take my fingers off.”

“What?”

“I said, you have to take my metal arm off,” he prolonged saying the off, “to take my fingers off.”

Timid. He used to timid in the beginning of this mission, and even before you were recruited in the Tower. Timid. Quiet, whenever you would pop out to get something, he would quiet down whenever he and Sam would talk. Now he’s always talking, and you want to chuck another book at him, but you like the sound of voice, the drawl of it— enough that you listen and lean back on your chair as he rolled his sleeve to show you where his metal arm is connected.

“Uh huh,” you said, drinking your steaming cocoa. It left the steam on your glasses and you didn’t even bother removing them.

“You have to wipe your glasses so you could see.”

“I’m good, so I don’t have to look at you anymore.”

“Jackass.”

“Language!”

When the steam disappeared on its own, you blinked rapidly with a smile on your face as you were met with Bucky’s self. He was wolfing down on his plate, leaving you almost no sunnyside up and you grabbed it away from him before he could even finish it.

“Hey! Leave some for me.”

“Then cook some more.”

You soften as Bucky grabbed the plate from you, splitting the remaining food into halves. “I like it when you cook it,” you whispered, ever so softly as you put the egg on top of your toast.

Bucky stopped chewing, his bread halfway through to meet his mouth. Slowly, he put down his toast, looking at the egg on top of his, and he cleared his throat. He removed it and slid it on your plate, and you grinned.

“Gotcha,” you smiled, chewing on your food as Bucky leaned on his chair with his arms crossed. He watched you eat as he finished his own and wiped his mouth. He tilted his head, watching you wolf down— you didn’t realise you were that hungry.

“Jackass.”

After dinner, Bucky took the chair by the window joining you, as you peep through the dark. Steve called in earlier for updates but there wasn’t so now you’re back to surveying the night through the glass. Bucky reached for the book on your lap, his metal hand touching your thigh and you shivered instantly on his touch. It was extra cold tonight, it was snowing, the winds outside were no match for the thin walls, and the heater is semi-broken with all the loud creaking. When he saw you shivered, Bucky tensed up.

“Are you cold?”

From his touch.

Your thoughts went down to where it doesn’t and shouldn’t go— thoughts of how it feels underneath that metal hand of his, how it feels, the sensation of cold, and you shivered some more— “No,” you said, peeping again on the sniper.

“You can use my jacket by the bed if you need more heat,” he offered, skimming past pages of your book. He reached the back of the book, and he skimmed over the summary. When he was finished, he placed down the book on your lap— and it happened again, that you just fake yawned to get away from this situation. “Seriously, use my jacket if you’re too cold.”

You knew he would persistent on things like this, so instead of refusing, you just stood up and reached the jacket from the bed. It still smelled like him, musky— and you breathed it in. For the past eight days when he would join you in the joint bed in the lookout apartment, it has been your favorite scent. It smells comforting.

Eight days in— maybe even longer, back in the tower and it has got you reeling in for some of his smell.

And touches.

You groaned, zipping up his jacket. He turned his head towards you, and looked concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, rolling up the longer sleeves over your wrist. What were you supposed to say? Hey, I was thinking of your smell— I love it, you thought. “Just a little headache.”

“Go to bed then,” he offered again, switching from his chair to the one you just moved from, “I’ll be the lookout tonight.”

“But you were the lookout last night,” you rambled on, sitting down on his chair. “I can do this.”

“No good if you can’t concentrate with that headache,” Bucky persisted, looking at you. He leaned on the chair, tucking his hair behind his ear— and his metal arm glinted, God. “Go to bed.”

No use in arguing with this man.

“Let me read some more then,” you whispered as you padded towards the bed. You were thankful that it wasn’t as small as you thought it was.

Although some mornings you would feel half of his body on yours and blankets would be tangled between the arms and legs, and you had to shove him off of you to breathe but he would still continue to doze off.

“Don’t hog my blanket.”

“I don’t hog the blanket.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Uh huh— whatever.”

Bucky watched you settle on your side of the bed as you opened your book. He found it cute whenever you would push up your glasses every now and then— but of course he wouldn’t want to admit it because Sam would ask always how and why he would’ve known. It would just end with Sam running around the tower, screaming at the top of his lungs, that Bucky— he has got some feelings, basically got his eyes on you.

He also didn’t want to admit how his jacket looks good on you.

Shaking his head, he realized how this mission is actually going to kill his heart if he has to spend anymore days with you. He cannot handle how much he has changed when talking to you— it makes him even nervous.

To get his mind clean off of you, he attempted to clean his combat knives with the soft turning of pages in the background. Nothing was happening outside yet he still needed to be on the lookout just to be sure. Some time he would find himself glancing at you while you read with a sigh of contentment on your lips as you would turn another page. He went back to cleaning, listening to the turning of pages.

Hours later, he heard nothing as it quieted down in the lookout apartment, except from the bustle from upstairs and down the road. It is past three in the morning. He glanced at the bed, and at your figure as you laid sideways. He found himself abandoning the chair, and padded towards you. He made sure his steps were silent aside from the creaking of it, as he turned to the side of your bed. He noticed you snoring softly, with hands on the book, and a crooked glasses on top of your nose.

He chuckled, it was cute.

He started to reach out to wake you up but he fought against.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” he said softly, as you twitched in your sleep.

Silence.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered as he bent down.

He watched your hair fall over your face as you nuzzled deeper into your pillow, and he stopped in his tracks. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to wake you up.

So he did his best not to. His fingers slid through your face as he gingerly reaches out for your glasses, so you wouldn’t sleep on it. The last thing he wants for you is to have a broken pair of glasses. Then he tucked your hair behind your ear and reached for the book. He’s got to lift your fingers off of the hardbound book— and your fingers were soft, smaller than his, and he smiled softly at that thought, the thought of you. His heart is doing a marathon beating with nervousness and of you. When he succeeded in taking off of your book, he watched you bundle your hands up with the blankets.

“You hog the blankets, sweetheart.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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inquiringquilter · 4 years

Text

My April Island Batik Challenge

The Island Batik Ambassador challenge for April was to create a quilt with creative borders and bindings.

In the midst of self isolation I have to admit I found it hard to be creative. But Spring was breaking out all around me and it was hard not to be happy at the sight. So I decided to make a Spring-inspired quilt.

I played around with the idea of bunnies for quite a while, with baskets and eggs as possible border inspirations but nothing jelled.

When I’m stuck for ideas, I turn to my idea book—a little book of pattern sketches I keep nearby. There I found a sketch of a butterfly taking nectar from a flower, and an idea was born.

I chose bright colors that complimented each other rather than overly realistic ones. For the borders, I used a combination of plain and pieced borders.

For the outer border, I decided on a scallop. I think in my head I was planning on cutting the border using my Accuquilt GO! and the die I used for my March challenge but in the end I put on plain borders and created the scallops the old-fashioned way—by marking and later trimming them.

I sewed the bias binding on first, using the marked line as my guide. Then I trimmed the edge. This gave me a more stable edge on which to sew the stretchy bias.

I’ve never done a scalloped border before but I sure enjoyed it!

For the back of the quilt, I used the same batik as I used for the background of the applique. I added a hanging sleeve as close to the edge as I could to prevent the border from flopping when hung.

I stitched along the edges of the applique to finish them and also to quilt! That certainly sped up the process. Then I quilted vines and leaves in the background.

I’m calling this Flutterby and I think it turned out charming!

Here are the quilt details:

"Flutterby" 31” x 31" Original Design Fabrics: Background: Paisley Tree Snowcone #121815880 (from the Gypsy Rose collection), Border 1 and 3: Dot Jungle Water #111911872 (from the Magical Reef collection), Border 2: Leaves Cool Waters #121910855 (from the Jewel Box collection) and Small Pointed Floral Turquoise #1BE36-D1 (from the Blenders collection), Border 4: #BE24-A2 (from the Blenders collection) Butterfly: Mum Blurple #121824470 (from the Twilight Chic collection),Wildflower Blurple #121934470 (from the Jewel Box collection),#121820535 (from the Fortune Teller collection), Black Solid Batik, Flowers: #121824013 (from the Twilight Chic collection), Water Gold Rust #121507274 (from the Sweet GA collection), Mini Bubbles Cornmeal #11905131 (from the Islander collection), Camel (from the Basics collection), #111818030 (from the Dear William collection), #121714120 (from the Morning Sunshine collection), Hexigon Honey #111916035 (from the Clockworks collection), Berry Vine Sun #121813120 (from the French Blue collection), #111908120 (from the Sunnyside Up collection), #BE32-C1 (from the Blenders collection), #121714130 (from the Pumpkin Patch collection), #BE24-A2 (from the Blenders collection) Binding: #BE24-A2 (from the Blenders collection) Backing: Paisley Tree Snowcone #121815880 (from the Gypsy Rose collection) Batting: Hobbs Batting 80/20 Applique Threads: Aurifil 50 wt. #2692 (Black), #2785 (Very Dark Navy), #2740 (Dark Cobalt), #2810 (Turquoise), #5024 (Dark Brown), #2132 (Tarnished Gold), #6001 (Light Caramel), #2930 (Golden Toast), #2140 (Orange Mustard), #2115 (Lemon), #2134 (Spun Gold) Quilting Thread: Aurifil 50 wt. #2545 (Medium Purple) Binding Thread: #2785 (Very Dark Navy) Needle: Schmetz Topstitch 80/12 Pieced and quilted by Jennifer Fulton

Thanks for stopping by!

While you’re here, why not take a moment and share what you’ve been working on in my weekly show-and-tell linkup, Wednesday Wait Loss? Click here to read all about it and to link up a photo.

Disclosure: The products featured here were provided to me free of charge by Island Batik, Aurifil, Hobbs, AccuQuilt GO!, and Schmetz.