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thelittlestoflives · 9 months ago

Text

Thank You

soooo i sort of have a whole backstory to the Unravelling the Mystery fic and i just thought welllll i might as well post that too lol!! (i actually have lots of parts and stories)

again, very new to fic writing and i've thrown in some y/n lore in there too!! it's so vulnerable and scary to post stuff you've written (again i suck at proofreading so forgive pls)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sanji x strawhat!reader, or the story of how y/n became a strawhat and gravitated towards the chef

use of YN, afab reader

cw: stuff to do with horrible exes, forced eating of a devil fruit, being severely injured, slight angst to fluff but mostly fluff i think

wc: 2.7k

It was like a ritual. The breathing in the room evening out, slipping out from under the covers and creeping through the halls towards him. His arms were your salvation, every gentle kiss burning your skin with love, each touch so heavenly you could almost believe in a higher power.

You can barely remember how it began. It's like it's just always been this way.

But it wasn't.

Not when you were stuffed in that barrel, just you and the darkness and the splashing of the waves against the wood, the drip drip drip onto your already soaking clothes. You can't remember how you survived it, how you endured the minutes and the hours and the days you remained in there, physical wounds nowhere near the pain of the scarring on your soul.

And like words out of the holy texts, there was light. A piercing, bright light. But unlike the holy texts, soft mutters echoed in your ears.

"Shit. It's a girl."

"Dammit. So, it's not treasure?"

"She's injured."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Why does this always happen to us?"

“Get her out of there, for fuck’s sake! Why are you all just standing around?!”

Just like that, the light vanished and darkness returned.

When you came to you were in some sort of medical infirmary, the light streaming through the windows so intense that you could barely open your eyes. An assortment of smells hit your nose; disinfectant, bleach, salty sea air, and a bowl of rich chicken noodle soup that steamed as it sat on your bedside table.

Maybe that's when it started. The soup. You stared at it for god knows how long, tears streaming down your face at the act of kindness. The trauma of what you'd just been through vanished staring at that bowl, feeling the love of whoever made it poured into it. Your body had been wrapped in bandages and cleaned, and you wore soft pyjamas that weren't your own, your hair had been brushed, and someone had made you fucking chicken noodle soup.

A couple of days went by as your body slowly healed. The only interaction you had was with the ship's doctor as he tried to make you feel comfortable and safe. You didn't see any of the other crew, but each time you woke from a restless, haunted sleep, there was a steaming dish beside you. Before long, you were strong enough to walk around. Chopper held your hand as he led you above deck to meet the crew who sat around the kitchen table.

You felt shy and nervous. Sure, you'd spoken to pirates before, but always in a controlled environment, never on their turf.

But they were vastly different from the pirates you'd encountered, offering easy smiles and gentle words, coaxing you to tell them what had happened to you. You caught eyes with a man with a cigarette hanging casually out his mouth a couple of times, quickly looking away. Was this where it started?

You explained that you're a journalist on your home island. Or rather, were a journalist. Now? You were dust in the wind, not taking any sort of discernable shape, floating with no direction, no intention, nothing. You thought you had it all; a home, a job you loved, family, friends, and someone who you thought was the love of your life. In less than a week, it was gone.

You had been investigating a cult on your island and stumbled across a giant conspiracy involving the World Government. You had written a tell-all piece, ready to blow the whole damn thing wide open. But you made a mistake, you told your then-boyfriend about it. Turns out he wasn't who he said he was, he was one of them. Sent to keep an eye on the local journalists, he’d pretended to fall for you to keep you close. The cult that terrorised truth seekers from the shadowy underworld was an unstoppable and dangerous force and he was one of them.

They'd captured you, and when the darkness was lifted there was no heavenly bright light. Just a dank basement dimly lighting up your boyfriend's face, grinning from ear to ear as he told you in laborious detail what was about to happen to you. You would eat a Devil Fruit, they would drug you, and you would be forced to do their bidding. No choice, no control, this was it. They’d already done this to every other person who had been investigating them. They had a small army now, he informed you. An army of ‘nosey bastards who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into’. Despite your pleading, he laughed and said that you better get ready for what’s about to happen.

And so they did it. They had it all figured out. They forced you to eat the Devil Fruit, and as its powers flowed through your veins you realised that perhaps they didn’t have it all figured out after all. They didn’t account for the fact that you would be damned rather than be bested by a man.

Your powers erupted out of you, flowing with such a force that all you could do was let out a silent scream, as the shadows wrapped themselves around the foundations of the building they held you in and it collapsed into rubble.

An arm roughly grabbed you, pulling you out of the wreckage. It had stuffed you in a barrel, and an unfamiliar voice hissed the words: “It’s better if they think you’re dead. If you survive, never return.”

As soon as the last word of your tale left your mouth, a straw hat was placed on your head, and that’s how Luffy obtained another stray to add to his collection. You became the Strawhats’ Chronicler, your job was to forever immortalise the crew’s journey towards the One Piece and to document how Luffy became the King of the Pirates. Although it was a difficult adjustment at first, you became fast friends with the crew. Robin in particular was a huge help for you, as it was she who understood your plight the best.

Sanji kept his distance at first. You were so beautiful that he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from flirting, and that was probably the last thing you needed right now, so he resigned himself to being helpful in the background, finding out information about you from Robin and Nami and incorporating it into his cooking. But the two of you were like magnets, unexplainably drawn to one another and soon neither of you would be able to stay away.

You were ripped from your nightmare with such force that you shot upright, sweat dripping down your back. It was the same as always, but tonight you didn’t want to wake up Robin with your tears.

And that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen, face-to-face with a certain chef. He tried not to make a fuss as he saw your hunched, small frame in the doorway, tear-stained cheeks and sleepy eyes. Really, he did. But he’s only a man, after all. He gave you a warm hug and sat you down, making his own special sleepy tea (“I promise you, you will be knocked out after this. No bad dreams for our sweet Chronicler!”).

“I meant to say thank you,” you said quietly as you sipped your tea.

He arched an eyebrow, a gentle blush on his cheeks. “For?”

“The food. When I was in the infirmary, your food made me feel…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed.

“Made you feel what?”

You look up at him, an amused expression on his face.

“Your chicken noodle soup made me cry,” you admit softly. “It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and it’s my comfort food. And I cried. I was so touched that I forgot everything else. I can’t thank you enough for that. I could’ve lost my mind, but that small act grounded me.”

The blush was no longer gentle but furious as his eyes diverted from your face. “Ah. Well, it’s an honour to cook for a pretty girl like you, and even more so that it makes you feel something. So really, I should thank you for your high praises.”

Your mouth twitched into a smile. “No, thank you!”

His mouth echoed yours. “No, no, thank you!”

And you continued like that, thanking each other more and more dramatically through laughs. The silliness wore off, and Sanji’s face turned slightly more serious.

“Look, I wanted to say something to you too,” he began. “I’m sorry that your ex betrayed you like that. No beautiful lady should ever have to suffer at the hands of a man, much less a man who should love her.”

You blink, suddenly remembering why it was you were here in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you say with a small shrug. “Well, no, it’s not okay but… I dunno. What else can I say? ‘My ex gave me up to an evil cult and altered my life forever and because of him my family think I’m dead and I didn’t even get the t-shirt’? I appreciate that though. I appreciate all of you.”

He blew air out of his nose softly as you tried to make light of what was clearly a horrific situation.

“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” “Thank you, Sanji, same goes for you,” you smile.

He grins back. “No, no, no. Thank you!”

You laugh and lightly hit his arm. “Cut it out or we’ll be here all night!”

His grin widens. “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do.”

And maybe that’s where it starts. Those late nights in the kitchen when you both couldn’t sleep, sharing easy conversations and trying to make the other laugh. Warm mugs of tea and knees touching each other under the table. A bubble you created with just the two of you, a sacred space, with none the wiser as to these secret meetings of yours.

It would become routine for a couple of weeks. The nightmares jolt you awake, so you pad through to the kitchen for tea, smiles, and chats.

“You know, I reckon you’re the beating heart of this crew,” you say as you blow on your tea to cool it down.

Sanji scoffs in derision.

“No, I’m serious! If Luffy is the soul, then you’re the heart. I see everything you do for the crew, Sanj. You’ve got a kind soul.”

You wished you could frame the look on his face to cherish forever. A mix of gratitude, embarrassment, confusion, denial, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

“In saying that,” you continue, sipping on the now-cool beverage. “You look tired. If you’re looking after everyone else, who’s looking after you?”

He froze.

Your eyes are trained on his. “Look, there’s a reason we’re both here in the dead of night. You can’t sleep either, can you?”

He looks down.

“Let me in, Sanj. Let me look after you.”

And he does. He tells you everything, and now the bond runs so deep you’re afraid. After all, the last person you fell in love with lied about it and broke your heart. You couldn’t take much more. But this was different, somehow.

Maybe it started the first night you slept in his arms.

It was just a normal night. As usual, a nightmare ripped you from sleep. It was a particularly bad one this time, your cheeks wet with tears as you made your way to the kitchen. But when you got there, the lights were off. Panic clawed up through your chest. You’d come to rely upon the chef in the dead of night, and now that he wasn’t here, you were scared to face your demons alone. So, fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go to him.

The men’s quarters were loud. Zoro’s snores cracked through the room, and general grunts and smells and sleepy noises were prevalent, but it didn’t matter. He was there, and he would make you feel okay again.

And once you’d crawled in beside him, and his arms automatically wrapped around you, you knew that there was no going back. You woke up in your own bed, having slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

That night when you met in the kitchen, there was a slight awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.

He cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, did you sleep okay last night?”

“I did. Best I have in a while, really. I’m so sorry if I overstepped or-”

“No! No, I’m sorry for not being here at our usual time-”

“Don’t be stupid!”

“Thank you for-”

You both stopped and he cleared his throat again, cheeks bright red.

“Well, honestly? That’s the best I’ve slept in a while too. So, thanks. And I…” He paused as if building up some courage. “I wondered if you would maybe want to… Do it again sometime. But, you don’t have to and I don’t want you to feel like I’m coming on to you because I know you don’t want, like, romance or anything because of the situation with your ex and-” He began to ramble anxiously, bringing a small smile to your lips.

“Sanji, Sanji, stop! It’s okay! I… I would like that a lot. And so thank you.”

He stopped blabbering and clasped his hands together. “Really?” There was a sparkle in his eyes.

“Really,” you nodded.

You both built a little routine together. If Sanji wasn’t already in the kitchen, then you’d go to him. Otherwise, you’d meet in the kitchen for your cup of tea, before retiring to his hammock in the men’s quarters. The noises of the sleeping crew around you didn’t bother you at all as you lay entwined in Sanji’s long arms.

One night, you made your way into the kitchen and stopped quietly in the doorway. Sanji had fallen asleep at the table waiting for you. You took in his sleeping figure, the way his sleep shirt clung to his arms and revealed some of his chest. His face was relaxed and peaceful, and god, was it beautiful. Shit, you thought. I’m in way too deep now.

You gently woke him up, and the look in his eyes when he saw your face sent your stomach dropping and mind shortcircuiting.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

You nodded. “It’s me, Sanj. Let’s go to bed, hmm?”

He had that look on his face again, the one from before when you couldn’t figure it out. But now? Now you knew what it was. It was love. It was adoration. It was ‘you’re my comfort, my safety, you feel like home and I’m at peace’. He stood up and pulled you to his chest, groaning softly as he rested his chin on top of your head. You looked up at him, fondness in your eyes.

“Sanj?” You whispered.

“Yes, my darling YN?” His sleepy voice and eyes were too much. You stood up on your tiptoes and pressed a soft, swift kiss to his lips.

He stiffened, eyes wide.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded.

His face brightened and burst into a lovesick grin, one hand settling at your waist, the other snaking up to hold the back of your head. He nudged his nose against yours as your lips met, the world melting around you both. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I want to promise something to you right now,” he murmured. “I promise to protect you, to keep you safe, I promise I will never do anything that could possibly hurt you, and I will hunt down anyone who does. Thank you, YN, for showing me what love could be.”

“No, Sanj… Thank you for showing me.”

His eyes were brimming with tears too, but he laughed softly, unable to resist the urge to say:

“No, no. Thank you.”

And with that, you went to the safety of Sanji’s hammock, entangled with one another as you pressed burning kisses to each others’ skin, his heavenly touch making you forget what life was like without him. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you know this will never end.

#one piece #sanji oneshot #sanji drabble #sanji x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x you #op x reader #one piece x reader #strawhat reader #vinsmoke sanji x yn #vinsmoke sanji #my writing

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d1xonss · 10 months ago

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could i request a oneshot where daryl is sick and y/n wants to help take care of him? just super fluffy stuff? thanks😙😙

Chicken Soup for the Soul

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 9

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ This request is so cute to me :,( I had so much fun writing it. Not much to update on today, but thank you to whoever suggested this! Hope you enjoy!

Alexandria had always been a place full of safety and comfort. With living behind the thick, tall walls and having some of your favorite people living only a few houses away, you absolutely loved the community you were a part of. The only downside now, was the cold months only getting colder.

Every time without fail during this time of year, it would get much colder than what everyone was used to all the time. Normally it would constantly be warm, almost scorching some days because of how harshly the sun baked your skin. But in the first few weeks of the new year, it felt like it was constantly freezing. Granted the temperature usually lingered in the thirties, it was far more frigid than what everyone around here was normally used to.

Which was why currently you were cuddled up on the couch, a fluffy blanket covering your lap and a book in your hands, reading in the dim light of your living room. You occasionally felt the warmth of the fire next to you creep up to provide even more heat whilst you passed the time, waiting for your husband to return home.

He currently was out on a run that had lasted a few days, though he promised he would be home sometime today at the latest. You were a bit weary of him going out in the first place, warning him that this weather was cold and unpleasant, not wanting him to be miserable out there. But he brushed everything off as the typical stubborn man would do, assuring you that he would be just fine and he could handle it. And though you knew he could, it still didn’t stop you from worrying the littlest bit while he was out.

But a sigh of relief passed through your chest as you began to hear the faintness of the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, signaling he had finally returned as he made his way down the streets. A smile spread across your face as you finished up the page you were on, before finding your bookmark and placing it in the spine, setting it off to the side just as you heard the engine of the bike shut off in your driveway. It felt like only a few seconds passed before you finally heard the front door opening, his heavy footsteps trailing inside.

“Hi honey.” you called softly as you swung your legs over the side of the couch, standing up to peer around the corner at him.

He grunted as he removed all the things from around his shoulders, looking up at you with a soft and tired smile, “Hey.” he spoke quietly, trudging over towards your frame to practically melt around you.

Your smile stretched even wider than before as you held him, rubbing his back soothingly as you heard him exhale deeply in relaxation. Just by feeling his tense and sore muscles around you, it was clear to sense how tired he really was, it was even written all over his face. The two of you stayed in each others arms for minutes in just peaceful silence, taking each other in after being apart for far too long.

But according to Daryl, even an hour was too long to be away from you. Meaning these past three days must've have been torture.

“How was the trip?” you asked softly, your voice being the one to break the silence that surrounded you.

He sniffled and cleared his throat as he nodded to confirm everything went fine, “Good.” he spoke, “Gotta couple crates of supplies.”

You hummed, “That’s good to hear…I’m glad you’re home.” you admitted quietly as you held onto him a little bit tighter.

His deep and vibrating laugh shook in his chest as he instantly seemed to agree, “Me too, baby girl.” he said before finishing his sentence with another sniffle.

You paused for a moment as you heard the small and distinct sound for a second time. Now that you really thought about it, he felt a lot warmer to you than usual as you continued to stay wrapped around him. It might’ve just been you reading too much into things, but something seemed a little off.

So you reluctantly pulled away from him then, seeing in his eyes now that he was utterly exhausted, “You okay?”

He nodded slow as you saw him swallow a bit thickly, “Yeah, just…just tired.” he confirmed.

But you weren’t convinced. Before he could process your next moves, you quickly raised the back of your hand up to his forehead to check his temperature. He sighed in defeat as your hand already made contact with his skin, your eyes widening upon feeling Satan's hellfire burning your hand at the simple touch.

That may have been a little dramatic, but he felt quite warm.

“Honey, you’re burning up.” you said softly as your hand moved down to cradle the side of his face, “Are you sick?”

He scoffed as he opened his mouth to deny it, but instead, he quickly turned his face away and into his elbow to sneeze loudly, the sound practically bouncing off the walls.

Your eyes rolled, “So that’s a yes.”

“I ain’t sick.” he defended roughly as he turned back to face you again, “Maybe yer hand’s just cold.” he tried.

“Uh huh.” you muttered, “Then how do you explain the sniffles and that dramatic ass sneeze?” you asked with a tilted head.

He was silent for a long moment as his gaze stayed on the ground, trying to come up with a good reason other than the obvious. “Allergies?”

You scoffed, “You’re sick.” you concluded as you reached out to tilt his chin up so he would look you in the eye again, “Why don’t you head upstairs and hop in the shower. I’ll get you some medicine and I’ll make-”

“Nah, no, I’ll be just fine. Just need some rest is all.” he interrupted.

You couldn’t help but tilt your head at him a little as you silently knew why he was always so persistent about this kind of thing. Daryl always felt like he had to tough it out his whole life, act as if nothing phased him in the slightest as he carried nearly the weight of the world on his shoulders. The truth was it made him feel weak, asking others for help, having someone else take care of him, he felt he almost didn’t deserve it.

But you on the other hand knew that he deserved everything and more. Sometimes it just took some reassurance to get him there.

“Sweetie, you are constantly taking care of me. Just let me take care of you.” you spoke sweetly and gently, your tone being enough for him to nearly cave right then and there.

Though he still looked unsure for a few more seconds, not wanting you to go through any trouble as he was capable of taking care of himself. He never wanted to bombard you with his needs as he was perfectly content with giving you everything you wanted, pretty much constantly waiting on you hand and foot. But still to this day for some reason, it felt odd to him receiving the same treatment though you had been doing it for years. You alone felt almost unreal sometimes to him. Like a dream.

But then you whispered one word, one single word that caused him to break.

“Please?”

It didn’t matter when or how the word was used, but you and Daryl both knew that if you used that word to coax him into something he was prepared to deny, he would always fall apart instead. You had a certain effect on him that he still couldn’t quite describe.

So with that, he sighed heavily as he felt himself sniffle again, “Alright.” he agreed.

You smiled softly and gently grabbed one of his hands to place a kiss on the back of it, “Good. Head on upstairs and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” you promised.

His face broke out into a lopsided grin when he looked down at you, feeling a bit hazy from the illness he seemed to catch, his knees feeling weaker the longer he stood upright. Yet he still couldn’t help but smile at how unbelievably lucky he had gotten with you.

“Yes ma’am.” he eventually spoke, breaking away from you to slowly head up the long and dreaded staircase, preparing to head for the shower as you suggested.

You on the other hand went straight towards the kitchen, picking through the medicine cupboard before finding the right pill bottle to take up with you. After setting it down on the counter, you grabbed a larger pot and placed it over the stovetop, before rummaging around through the kitchen for ingredients. You planned to make him some chicken soup, one of his favorites when the weather got colder. He could probably inhale three bowls if given the chance.

You cut up the fresh vegetables along with the chicken, adding it all into the pot filled with broth to cook before adding the many noodles as well. You seasoned everything thoroughly and made sure to keep stirring it so it would be perfect, knowing he was probably starving from not only coming back from the long run, but from the sickness he picked up along the way. But once everything was done you placed it all on a tray to take up to your shared bedroom, even adding some water and crackers off to the side.

Stepping up the stairs slowly and carefully, you didn’t hear the water running and only assumed he was done by now as you entered the space carefully. And there he was lying in bed, his eyes closed until he heard the faintness of your movements, peaking them open again and seeing the amount of things you had brought up. It was written all over his face that he thought you did too much, but upon smelling the soup you continued to carry, he said nothing as if he suddenly remembered how hungry he really was.

He licked his lips as he eyed the tray, “Whatcha got?” he asked.

You laughed a little to yourself as you placed it down on his bedside table, “Well, the tylenol is for your fever, and the chicken soup is…for your soul.” you said proudly as you handed him the pill bottle first to take.

He huffed out a laugh, “Smells good.” he complimented as he took the medicine you provided for him along with a swig of water to wash them down.

You sat yourself at the edge of the bed, “Did the shower help at all?” you asked as you raised your hand again towards his forehead, still feeling very hot just as last time.

“A little.” he shrugged, “Still kinda warm though.”

You nodded to yourself as you noticed he was shirtless, the blankets wrapped only around his legs as the rest of him was exposed to the colder air. But you then got another idea that would help, telling him to wait momentarily before you trailed off back to the bathroom. You grabbed a washcloth out of the closet tucked away in the corner before running the material under some cool water, bringing it back to gently place on his forehead.

He sighed at the feeling as his eyes temporarily closed again, only opening once more to look towards you and the things you brought, “Ya did too much.” he commented quietly.

You tilted your head at him, “No I didn’t.” you insisted, “In fact, I didn’t do nearly enough. I want to take care of you, I always do. Please just let me from time to time…okay?”

His tired eyes stared at you for a long moment, before he was slowly nodding his head in agreement, “Okay.”

A smile was brought to your face knowing that it was getting to be easier for him to accept the help, before it was replaced with a teasing smirk as you eyed the soup he had yet to touch. “You want me to feed you?” you joked.

He scoffed, “Nah. Then ya would be doin too much.” he said before leaning over and grabbing the bowl himself.

You laughed a little before nodding your head, “Well, is there anything else you need? Anything at all?”

He didn’t hesitate as he spoke his next words clearly, “Just you…can ya stay with me?” he asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.

But he did, he knew the answer quite well. Though a part of him just wanted that last bit of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave his side, wanting to hear you say it.

“Of course.” you promised sweetly, leaning over the smallest bit to place a kiss on top of his head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

~ Thanks for reading!

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somewhere-at-the-burrow · 3 months ago

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Thank you for sharing your experiences! I love reading about it. Could you talk more about the food at Hogwarts? What is your favorite food there? What’s your least favorite food? What’s a typical dinner look like there? Thank you :)

aah thank you so much for the ask !

I love talking about Hogwarts food and trying to replicate it in this reality, so this question is very fun!!

a typical day of meals partially depends on what season it is and what food is typically in harvest!

for example, it is around the fall equinox in my DR, so we are seeing a lot of harvest pies and themed foods that just radiate comfort and warmth. currently, a dinner staple has been roasted butternut squash soup, which is an aquired taste but it is so yummy!! in the last weekend before I shifted back, we also had our first dinner with homemade pumpkin soup and bread bowls, so fall is definitely here <3

on a typical dinner, though, there are staple foods that appear beside all of the seasonal foods. these include chicken, potatoes, hand pies, fruit arrangements, and bread assortments! there is also always pumpkin juice, and so far there has always been choices of cider (apple and pear being common!)

different meat pies are also very popular, and I swear we have shepherds pie every couple of days during dinner. it is such a comfort food for so many students. harvest type pies are also being served more frequently, but everyone is looking forward to the Mabon feast, as everyone joins together to make lots of apple pies!

all of the Hogwarts food is truly magical, as it always has warming charms and something about sitting down with my friends after a cold day and having this freshly baked food just warms my soul !

as for my favorites--- I am OBSESSED with any type of pasty. the cornish pasties are such a treat when they are served for lunch, which has only been a few times while I was there but I am hoping for more! I have no idea what they do in the Kitchens to make these, but I know I am not the only student who practically rushes into lunch hour eagerly to see if they are there 😭

also, i've heard many many people talk about this, but the Hogwarts potatoes and bread?? absolutely obsessed every time. especially as someone who has to eat them together and is very particular about certain cooked textures, I am so happy that potatoes and bread are served at every meal. breakfast potatoes, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, sandwich bread... they really have something for everyone!

I usually am not that picky, so I was quite surprised when I actually liked random things like porridge in the morning, which is definitely not something common from my life in this reality. I cannot stress how confused my mum was when I went to the grocery store and then tried to make porridge randomly a couple of days ago when I shifted back ‼️

however, I don't like scotch eggs, but they are also a fan favorite so idk what is wrong with me! I just hate the texture and I had never tried them before shifting so I kind of feel like the whole experience was kind of crazy and now I don't trust any scotch eggs.

moral of the story: Hogwarts food is some of the best i've ever had in my life and if you are shifting there, try everything!

also, thank you all so much for the asks! writing this made me hungry :,)

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m3talmunson · 2 years ago

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Any reasonable person would think, with the sheer length of Eddie's hair, that he would have the slightest idea of how to care for it.

If you thought that, you'd be wrong. He was flying by the seat of his pants, with a bonus of simple luck. It was astonishing that his hair didn't get matted throughout day to day life, let alone the end of the world.

Yes, Eddie obviously went to a hospital after it all. Nobody could have survived that level substantial of injuries without it. But no matter the NDA's, or the "freedom from prosecution," as Dr. Owens puts it, it didn't come with a clean-wiped slate in the public eye.

So Eddie chose to lay low. He got the treatments that were deemed necessary by the doctors, and then he got the hell out of there.

At least, from all of this, Eddie learned only to run when he needed to.

Part of him was scared he and Wayne wouldn't be able to swing the bill. That part of him was satiated when Owens's team swung the bill and replaced the... mangled Munson trailer. These government reparations didn't anywhere near touch the damage that was done, but Wayne and Eddie would take what they could get. Like they always had. Of course, the universe saw fit that Eddie take a little more.

Eddie was told -putting it politely- to stay the fuck out of that trailer park. Just because his name was cleared legally doesn't mean he should be anywhere he would normally go about his business. Not for the next couple weeks, at least.

And Steve Harrington, ever so giving, offered up his home as sanctuary.

And of course, Eddie was immediately trying to find a way out of it. When that didn't work, he started asking how soon he needed to leave. He didn't want to feel like a burden, especially not to Steve.

"Stay as long as you need, Eds. Forever, for a little while, on and off, literally anything as long as I don't have to carry you out of hell again. That's the one condition."

Sure, living with Steve had it's perks. He had some semblance of privacy, walls with ANY soundproofing, and company. What more could a boy ask for, you would think.

Not living down the hall from his crush while looking like a walking nightmare, Eddie thought, was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for. He did not get that.

Despite living in the same house as him, he avoided Steve like the plague. Steve had made it clear his 'what's mine is yours' attitude was open to Eddie, but Eddie preferred his room. His boxes from the old trailer were there, his guitar, his sanity (or what remains). The moment he limped his way out of that door, he was in the realm of Steve. And he did not feel up to the task of being presentable in front of his literal crush.

Still, Steve came into his room every so often. Eddie went to the hospital, but he wasn't magically better. Steve changed his bandages, helped him when he needed it, brought him homemade soup? Because, somehow, Eddie is in an alternate dimension where Steve Harrington is making him his grandma's chicken noodle soup recipe for him. And it is PHENOMENAL.

Eddie could have never expected any of the past month's events. He was still grappling with the fact that life would just... return to normal somehow after the end of the world.

He had enough on his plate. However, the universe thought fit to throw some more on.

During one of his Steve-check-ups™, Steve just absentmindedly mentioned something Eddie was dreading.

"How have you been dealing with all that hair? I mean it's been in a new bun every day this week but you can barely lift your arms?"

"Well, actually Steve," Eddie started, "I haven't. This is the same bun you put in on Wednesday." He tilted his head down, he didn't really want to look Steve in the eye when he said that.

"Well shit Eddie, what can I do to help?"

And wasn't it oh so nice when Steve looked up at him with those big eyes, knocking on the door of his soul. How could Eddie turn his gaze from that?

"What can be done? I can't wash it until these fuckers-" He pointed at the sides of his abdomen, to the bandages that Steve had just finished replacing, "have healed enough for me to lift my arms, which should be almost any time now. Then, we can take these bandages off, I can get out of your hair, and I can clean my own."

It was pretty obvious that neither of the men liked that agreement, but Eddie saw it as the only option. Wait a week, lift his arms, get the hell out of dodge. Easy enough.

"I could wash your hair. You know I know how to." Steve replied, a genuine offer, not a throwaway or handout that was just a kind gesture.

"No, Stevie, you don't need to worry about m-"

"Checkmate, I already do. You lock yourself in here except for food, I don't even feel like you're enjoying yourself! What's the point in breaking out of hell, fighting tooth and nail, just to sit in your room? C'mon Eddie, let me do one thing to make your life easier." Steve was interrogating him, but for his own good? And only two weeks ago he thought Steve was just some highschool douche that he just had a little crush on once upon a long time ago. Here he is, caring for him like they've known eachother for years.

"You do enough for me." Eddie hid the blush building on his face by looking to the ground across from Steve. Steve just moved his head there.

"I want to do more. I'm offering to do more."

"You're not going to let me say no, are you?"

"It's your hair, your body! But no, not really."

"Let's go," Eddie said, swinging his legs carefully over the edge of his bed.

And that's how Eddie ended up in a T-shirt and boxers, head laying back in the kitchen sink. He hadn't really gotten to the standing-for-long-periods-of-time point of recovery, so Steve pulled up a stool and a towel for Eddie's shoulders, and got ready to work above his head.

"I'll tell you when to put your head back, don't want to freeze you with the water."

Steve turned the faucet to the hottest setting, then throttled back a little. He carefully took Eddie's hair out and brushed through the ends. It had been in a bun for ages, so at least it didn't get knotted.

"I don't really know much about how curly hair works, but-"

"Oh me either," Eddie interrupted. "Barely even knew I had it. Don't worry about me big boy, no special treatment needed."

"Oh you're getting special treatment, whether you like it or not," Steve said. "Tilt your head back."

And so Eddie did. And he would be flat out lying if he said that he didn't love how gentle Steve's hands felt running across his scalp. He would be lying if he said he didn't like being pampered, just a little. He would be a liar if he told you that this wasn't somehow sensual, or that he wished it had more meaning.

Something about the way Steve was massaging his scalp made him think there could be.

"I'm gonna block your forehead from the water, just warning you." Steve used a cup to get the water to the base of Eddie's scalp, he was thorough with the details and everything.

It made Eddie feel loved. That's new.

Eddie nearly blacked out until it was done. He just soaked it all in, feeling cared for. He had felt cared for before, but never loved, not by someone who wasn't obligated to.

"Why do you do all of this for me?" Eddie truly wanted to know.

"Why shouldn't I?" He replied, as if it was nothing.

"Nobody does." Eddie wanted to say more, but now wasn't the time to throw a pity party and cry in front of Steve Harrington.

"All the more reason to."

"Harrington," Eddie tried to sit up as he talked, "you don't-"

Steve pushed him back down by the chest, conditioner and water soaking into his shirt.

"Don't strain yourself, seriously. Let me rinse this out, then you're free to go back to whatever you were doing." He left one hand on Eddie's chest, not keeping him down, but just resting there. Like he forgot about it, but it felt intentional.

Eddie dragged his hand up to Steve's on his chest.

"Thank you. Really," was all he could muster up without those tears rushing back.

"Of course, Eddie. Wouldn't rather be anywhere else." He continued to work around the ends of Eddie's hair, slowly turning the water off and doing some final slow scrunching motions with the towel not around Eddie's shoulders. "You're all done. Let me help you up."

Taking Eddie's hand in one of his and lifting from Eddie's back, he got Eddie sitting up right. The hand on his back let go, but not the hand in Eddie's.

"Well? Anything you usually do that I can help with?" Steve asked.

"You've done enough," Steve got ready to cut him off, but Eddie beat him to the punch, "I can't do any more without bending over, which is off the table. Seriously, Stevie, you've done more than enough. You've been insane amounts giving and patient with me. You've given me enough."

"I wish I could give more."

"I know."

"I could give more." Steve offered, ready to give all he had in the world.

"Steve," Eddie said, some type of begging look in his eyes, "I don't want to read too much into this but you've offered me more than I could reasonably take. You've given me sanctuary, food, care, what more is there?"

"Love."

Steve laid it all out on the table. All he had left to give was hope that Eddie would take it.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie asked.

"Please."

And when Eddie took it, it was magical. Just for a moment, all the pain, and bad memories, and nightmares, they just stopped. Suddenly, for a second of time, their was no ring of pain around Steve's neck, no searing, or scorching, or stabbing in Eddie's sides.

Maybe Eddie won't live in Steve's house forever, but he might live in this moment forever.

~~~~~

Thank you to @warlordess for giving the prompt in the comments of my last post! SO sorry it took so unbelievably long, but my show finally closed! Everyone, feel free to leave any prompts in my asks from now on! All of my previous posts as well as this one will be on AO3 soon, then I'm going to make a pinned post with my account! Thank you all so much for the patience you graced me with, hopefully it won't happen again!

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st4 spoilers #st4 fanfic

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vee-beeee · 1 year ago

Text

Chicken Noodle Soup

HELLOO

I got a super nice request from Ant1SocialVapor3on over on ao3!

"Basically request is, Y/N wakes up sick one day, and try to go to work as is. Of course the fluffy RK boys aint having any of that, and they try to bring a cranky and sniffly human home to bed, oh and fuss over and overreact. I would really apreciate this, and keep up posting these fluffy bangers :D"

so that is exactly what im gonna do 😈

Warnings: sickness, general discomfort, RK boys are all over you, hank is literally their dad, they boys care for you, gavin slander

Connor, Sixty and Nines x reader

╰┈➤---------------------------------------------------------------------------

*...-eep beep BEEP*

You groaned, blinking sleep from your eyes. It's way to early for this.

So you rolled over, snuggling into the blankets.

*beep beep BEEP*

Grumbling again, you rolled back over to slap you hand on your phone a couple times, before finally gaining some purchase on it and grabbing the device to pull it right in front of your face. Clicking the power button to see the time, you read the bright numbers at the top of the screen.

5:02

Sighing, you placed the phone back down and rolled onto your back to lay an arm across your face in an attempt to try and block out the morning, along with the world.

And then you sniffed

And you couldn't breathe. Your reaction was instant.

"please no" you moaned, shooting upwards in bed and then proceeding to groan once more in pain from sitting up way to fast, it felt like your head was going to implode.

Then the coughing started

Getting(falling) out of bed, you stumbled your way to the bathroom, where you rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for a thermometer. Finally letting out a shaky breath in relief when you felt your hand grasp it, you leaned your back against the wall and brought the small machine to your forehead, whispering pleas to not be what you think you were.

102.5

basically super duper sick.

Banging your head against the the cabinet and letting out a soft "nooo", you sniffed and contemplated your options.

You could stay home and disappoint everyone at work

Or power through and go on like normal.

Guess what you did.

That's how you landed yourself walking through the station in a giant black puffy jacket, blowing into a tissue, half bottle of cough syrup in hand, and hacking like no tomorrow.

You were truly a sight to behold.

Espically for 3 pairs of curious eyes

Arriving at your desk, you sat down, set your cough syrup on the desk, and proceeded to face plant onto a stack of papers that were sitting on top of it waiting to be worked on. You sniffled a little and slowly sat your chin on your paper to look up at your partner

who was staring at you with the most disgusted face on this planet.

"what" your deep sick voice asked (with a hint of amusement) as Gavin shot up from his desk, and slowly backed away

"are you sick?? i cant get sick, im meeting some guys tonight and I DO NOT want whatever you have. You look absolutely horrible"

You squinted your eyes and stared into his soul, un-moving, until finally you just leaned over his desk, grabbed his coffee cup that was full of pens, and dumped them out.

And then you licked the side of his mug, maintaining eye contact as you did so.

"Hey!" he yelped as you leaned back over to set it back down on his side of the cubicle. You crossed your arms and gave him a smug smile, which only lasted a second before you were consumed by an urge to sneeze, and quickly dove your face into your elbow.

He deserved it though.

You heard him grumble and storm off while you were grabbing a tissue, and you swallowed as you finished, noticing your throat was sore too. Awesome.

Before you could bury your face in paper work again, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You jumped and turned around to see 3 faces, full of concern.

" y/n? Are you alright today?" Connor slowly leaned down onto one knee so he could better see your face, which he then softly took into his hands, brushing hair out of your sweaty face. He looked so distressed, his caring eyes boring into yours. His hands were soft and cold, and you leaned into them, closing you eyes. Another palm pressed against your forehead and you sighed in appreciation.

"She has a high fever." a low voice murmured, and you suspected it belonged to Nines.

Blinking your eyes open, you started to open you mouth to say something, but instead a cough started. A tissue was pressed into your hand, and you brought it to your mouth, noticing Sixty had given it to you.

And was also giving you the softest look you have ever seen the sarcastic android wear.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as the group coddled you with their worried looks.

"Guys I'm fineee" you totally lied, sniffing your nose once again and leaning back away from the group to clear your throat.

"You are clearly not" Nines answered, crossing his arms as his LED went yellow, raising his eyebrows

"I agree with him, you need to go home" Connor gave you a sympathetic look and dragged his hands down from your face to your hands, and took them in his, rubbing the knuckles.

"Let us take you home sweetheart" Sixty tilted his head and brushed a hand through your hair.

You grumbled and shook your head, trying to look assertive "I have work to do, I cant leave"

Connor sighed, looking at his fellow RK units, LED flashing amber. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Sweet cheeks, we can do this the easy way-" Sixty started, shooing a reluctant Connor away from his crouching position to stand in front of you and put his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward so you couldn't escape his gaze "-or the hard way. Which is it gonna be?"

Glancing up at Sixty, you stuck your lips out and harrumphed, choosing to look out the window instead of the android and crossing your arms in defiance.

"The hard way it is then"

you turned back to ask him what he was going to do, but it turned into a yelp and finished in a cough.

Nines had swept you from your chair, holding you in his arms bridal style.

And was giving you a small smile.

You gasped like a fish out of water and thrashed slightly in his hold, which you quickly found out did nothing. You were secure in his arms.

Your over-exhertion resulted in more coughing, and Nines smug expression morphed into one of concern as he turned to his fellow units.

All of their LED's started flashing and you knew they were having a private android conversation.

Unfair.

Nines turned his steely gaze to Connor, who just nodded and started off towards their partner Hank, who was looking at your group with a troubled expression. You watched as Nines then turned to Sixty and motioned with his head to the stations front door, to which the rk800 responded by quirking his lips upwards, and rushed forward to kiss your hair, before leaving the main office to go to reception.

Nines adjusted you in his hold, before heading to follow behind Sixty.

As you walked through the lobby, you saw stares pointed at you from androids and humans alike. Everyone was giving you and Nines a raised eyebrow, and you were so embarrassed that you just instinctively leaned forward to hide in Nine's neck, silently apologizing when you coughed into him. He noticed and fastened his pace, lightly kissing your head and whispering in your ear for only you to hear:

"It's okay my darling, we'll take care of you."

Here come the butterflies again.

Or you were just really sick.

Maybe a bit of both.

In the blink of an eye you were fastened in the passenger's seat of your car, with all androids present and accounted for. Connor had told you that they had all taken the day off, and Hank saw his opportunity to leave for the day also. Hank had also wished you well, and said quote "being sick's a bitch". That had given you a giggle, but you still felt guilty for leaving. And now you were taking the 3 smartest detectives from the force.

"But Connor, I have so much work to do" you whined, once again giving the androids half-hearted death glares from around the car.

Nobody reacted, except for Sixty

"You look like a pouting baby" he chuckled and leaned back in his car seat, gazing out the window instead of meeting you now rage filled eyes. Your face was stuck in a jaw-dropped gasp, and you watched Connor turn his head to raise a judging eyebrow at his twin, who continued to ignore everyone.

But you saw that smug grin on his face.

Nines was the one driving, and kept checking your temperature with his hands during the trip to your house. You know you started the drive pretty lucid, but you knew it was getting worse.

You were so in pain from your throat and stuffed up nose, that a few hot tears slid down your face. You turned your head and huffed, hoping none of the boys saw it, but almost immediately after those tears hit your big puffy jacket, a gentle hand was on your chin turning your head in a certain direction.

Nine's direction.

The android had quickly punched in the coordinates to your house and set the car on auto drive when he saw your condition getting worse, and had noticed your tears the second they ran down your cheeks.

"Hey look at me, it's okay were going to help you" a few more tears slid down your cheeks at the comforting words, and Nines gave you the sweetest look to ever adorn his usually un-fazed expression, full of sympathy.

"He's right, we're going to do everything in our power to help you recover as fast as possible" Connor leaned over in his seat to kiss the side of your head while you finally closed your eyes, letting a comfortable darkness take over.

And finally, you fell asleep.

"....-ful sixty! you...e go...to wake th.....p if you hol...em like that"

"..-ever im...b..ing as care...as i can"

Your lids fluttered as you absorbed a conversation around you. Hearing bits and pieces as it felt like you were once again being carried somewhere.

You felt safe and warm, so you snuggled into the body holding you and shut your eyes once again.

"w...- up my heart"

The first thing you felt was a hand on your forehead.

You also noticed a body pressed to your back.

Blinking your weary eyes open, you meet Nines adoring gaze. His LED was yellow however, and he was leaning on one knee in front of your bed. Scrunching up your nose, you wondered how you even got to your bed. A voice behind you chuckled in response, you must have said that out loud. Nines took the hand previously on your forehead and leisurely stroked it down your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Well i drove us to your residence, and then Sixty carried you. We....-" he looked away with a stony expression as his LED flashed red, and you furrowed your brows in confusion.

"what did you do" you croaked out, pouting your lips out as Nines stared at an interesting corner of your room.

"We couldn't find your house key, so we had to break in" another voice piped up, and you looked to see a guilty Connor standing in the doorway with a cup of what looked like steaming tea.

The room went quiet as you stared with wide eyes as the boys.

"We'll pay for the window." the voice behind you mumbled, before nuzzling into your hair.

And then, surprising the androids and even yourself, you burst into laughter. Which turned into more coughing.

The body behind you (sixty) shook with chuckles, until your coughing fit started. The RK unit immediately stopped his laughter and helped you sit up, while Connor came and dropped the mug of tea on your bedside table before rushing out of the room.

Nines leaned forward to take your hand, and rub gently into it, silently reassuring you.

Waving your hand in front of you, the coughing stopped as you hastily addressed them.

"Sorry guys, that happens when you get sick" you hiccupped a laugh, but the boys didn't react. They silently shared a look.

And then Connor reappeared.

"You need to take all of these"

and you gasped as you saw basically an entire medicine cabinet in his arms. The android looked extremely worried, and was giving you the softest eyes. If he asked, you probably would take all of them.

You saw Nines sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose, and you wondered what had happened while you were out. On second glance at the cough medicine in his arms, you made a realization.

"Is that the brand of medicine that I brought to work?" you stuttered out, looking at Connor.

He shifted from foot to foot "I went to the store, and my memory record showed that this was your favorite brand. I didn't know how many to get, so I got...... a few"

The RK unit looked down on you with a small smile as you beamed.

They were the best.

And then an alarm went off.

You raised an eyebrow and watched as it was Nines turn to hot-footed it somewhere, and it looked like he was heading to the kitchen. Suddenly feeling a weight on your lap, you looked down to see Sixty had settled his head on your legs, and was gazing up at you.

"He's making Chicken noodle soup, Hank sent a recipe." Sixty murmured, and you watched his hand go up to tuck some hair behind your ear.

You instantly melted.

Maybe you would have a nice time being sick.

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

HERE IT IS

Im sorry if that ending is a little out of character, just thought it was funny LOL

Still getting used to writing the three of them and their dynamics

Also feel free to request anything! I enjoy them :D

Thank you for the idea Ant1SocialVapor3on!

SORRY FOR SPELLING ERRORS

#dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh rk800 #detroit become human #dbh hank #dbh nines #dbh rk900 #dbh rk900 x reader #dbh sixty #dbh sixty x reader

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

Note

So I have noticed something very interesting. Gin is buttering up aizen to feed him to the god machine as some premuim petrol. BUT ALSO many powerful souls that die DON't get fed to the god machine. They go to hell because they are powerfull enough that their removal from the world harms the god machine more than feeding them helps it. So my question is, whats up with that?

there's a couple parts to this:

Powerful souls that go to hell because they're powerful ARE STILL feeding The Life Machine- All that power they're off-gassing in Hell is still going into The Life machine- Hell exists more or less as a ringer to squeeze spiritual energy out of souls before sending them back into the cycle to grow again.

It harms The Life machine more to consume a powerful soul in totality because then The Life Machine doesn't get to use that *particualrly good* soul to generate energy it needs again, and again, and again- So someone like Yamamoto is going to go around about a zillion more times, if things go well.

Problem is, things are NOT going well right now- the wheel is jammed and not giving the Life Machine nearly the energy it needs, so it needs an emergency calorie dump while Tech Support works out how to unjam the wheel, which may, technically, involve stopping and starting it again.

The final thing is a matter of scale. if we think of souls in terms of calories: >Regular animal/plant soul: One Cheez-it. Not a lot individually, but they add up. >Regular Human Soul: One Chicken Nugget/celery and peanut butter. it's technically a snack, but it's not satisfying on it's own. >Average Shingami, Quincy footsoldier or lesser hollow Soul: Fast-food meal. About as much food at most people really need in a day. >Captain-class Shinigami or Espada-class Hollows or Sternritter: Giant Meal At Grandma's House that leaves you passed out on the couch and the leftovers she sends you home with that feed you for a week. >Aizen, once he fuses with the hollow inside the Hogyoku and achieves his Final Form: Actually eating every last crumb of every last dish at the Family Reunion thanksgiving with four grandmas cooking: Two turkeys, A Standing Rib Roast, A Ham, six kinds of soup, two salads, four types of baked vegetables, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, baked potatoes, potatoes au gratin, popovers, busicuits, rolls and bread, an actual ocean of gravy- and then there's dessert: Apple pie, pumkin pie, pecan pie, cherry pie, chocolate cake, cookies, early christmas cookies, avalanches of whipped cream. And ofc- cider and beer and hot chocolate and coffee and soda and fuck it just drink a whole gallon of milk while you're at it. More food than any human should consume in a whole year, let alone one sitting.

So you can see why Aizen is getting pulled out of the cycle for special treatment. He's gonna be there for The Life Machine to gnaw on for most of the series. And even then, after suffering the most direct and intimate contact anyone can get with what passes for god, The Life Machine may yet choose to send his empty, heavily chewed husk back for another turn because that why waste the seed of a good crop like?

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfiction

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years ago

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Congrats on your unique milestone!!

Hmm how about a micro with Dieter Bravo and Library AU?

Hi lovely! Thank you for this request. This turned out to be something completely different than what I expected, but... I kind of dig the vibe 🤷🏻‍♀️ I have no good explanation for this, but I hope you find some kind of enjoyment in it!

Dieter Bravo x library AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 800 words | warnings: grumpy, booklover!Dieter, librarian!Reader, I honestly don't know what else to say lol, I can't explain what I've written

Dieter Bravo tosses a dogeared paperback onto the check-out counter at the local library and fishes for his wallet somewhere in the depths of his sweatpants.

You take one look at the familiar cover, and blurt out, ‘That’s my favourite book.’

He hums, not particularly interested in your opinion as he hands you his library card, which you’d personally printed out and laminated when the request from the mayor’s office came through a week ago.

At his dismissive air, you grumble under your breath, ‘It’s way better than that dumpster fire of a book that your movie is adapted from.’

That catches his attention.

Skeptical eyebrows ascend from behind his dark sunglasses. ‘Is that right?’

Having checked out the book, you slide it across the desk to him with a faux sweet smile. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’

Dieter comes into the library every Thursday, after filming hours. You want to say you don’t understand why he does, but your workplace is one of two spots that’s still open after six o’clock in your tiny little town, the other being the local diner. And you guess there’s only so much drugs you can do in one’s hotel room before that gets boring too.

The next week, he returns your favourite book and surprises you with a question. ‘Got anything else like this one?’

So back and forth you go. He never tells you if he likes the books. He barely grunts two words at you, the sunglasses always firmly on, ringed fingers tapping on the counter impatiently when you beep the bar codes on his card and the book you recommend that week.

You don’t mind. You work at the library for a reason, and it’s not for a love of talking.

The weeks wind down, and soon there are whispers that his movie will wrap soon, in a couple of weeks. You’re not exactly sad, but you’ve liked sharing your favourite books with this man, whose glitzy, high-flying life is so far removed from yours - and yet your eyes have read the same words, your fingertips have traced the same lines of text, and your hands have turned the same pages.

The penultimate Thursday, when Dieter walks up to your counter, you have a book ready for him.

It’s a departure from the established routine - you usually tell him where the book is, and he goes fetch it himself. He doesn’t question you though, and instead, waits for the blurb that you always give him by way of an introduction. When you shrug wordlessly, he arches an eyebrow at you, but he doesn’t probe.

The next Thursday, you’re down with the flu and you call in sick for the day. If you’re honest with yourself, you’re relieved that you won’t see Dieter for the last time. Filming has wrapped, and you know he’s flying out this evening (there are no secrets in a small town).

Your dinner of canned chicken soup is bubbling on the stove when there’s a knock on your door. Swinging it open, you wonder if you’re high on your flu medicine.

Dieter Bravo is standing on your tiny doorstep, which is barely wide enough to accommodate his broad shoulders. He holds the book in one big hand, his ridiculous rings catching the porch lights. Something is off, and it takes you a few more moments to realise why -

He’s not wearing his sunglasses.

Warm brown eyes hold yours as he says more than asks, ‘You wrote this, didn’t you?’

His confident statement steals the breath right out of your parted lips, and you stare back at him, dumbfounded.

Not a single soul knows. You published the book under a pseudonym with a small press on the other side of the country and made enough to cover your costs, which was more than you expected. Covertly, you ordered a copy for the library, and it’s been checked out exactly three times in the last four years. It’s been sitting in its little spot, gathering dust until you took it off the shelf last week on an impulse.

You realise that Dieter is still waiting for your answer, but the words don’t come. The car sitting on the curb honks, and he smiles ruefully before pushing the book into your limp hands, and walks away without looking back.

When the SUV rounds the corner, your gaze drops to the paperback. His eyes have read the same words that you wrote, his fingertips have traced the same lines of text that you know by heart, his hands have turned the same pages you now fan through -

Something falls out of the book and you just manage to catch it before it flutters out of reach.

It’s a name card with Dieter’s cell number on one side, and on the other, in precarious handwriting that can only be his -

Wanna make a movie?

#fuckyeah2222sleepover #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo drabble #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you

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disgruntled-detectives · 20 days ago

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I have Mondays off now from work, so I’m spending today making a big pot of homemade chicken stock. Let me tell you how I make it. Cause it’s soul deep delicious. And it’s fucking easy. Just takes a while.

I have a mesh soup sock (these things are a lifesaver. You can get a pack of ten for like. 7 bucks on amazon. I never make chicken soup without them now) filled with a chicken carcass and another sock with two large whole onions (the skins make for really good color and flavor) carrots and celery (make sure you get the leafy bits in if you can. There’s a lot of flavor in them leaves)

I stick them in the pot, and fill the pot with water. To it I add salt, black pepper, red pepper flakes, garlic powder, 3 or 4 bay leaves, lemon pepper poultry seasoning, dried dill. I never measure I just kinda throw seasonings that sound good in til the ghost of my grandmother and all the Jewish bubbies I’ve taken on as my ancestors upon conversion tell me I’m done. (I do go a little light handed on all the spices to start just cause I’m gonna taste test every couple of hours and you can’t take salt out but you can always add more)

Cover and bring to a boil on high heat on the stove. Once it’s boiling, lower the heat to a simmer and kinda watch over it for a bit. You may have to move the cover to let steam escape. Just make sure it doesn’t bubble over. Once you’ve gotten to the point where you’re sure it’s not gonna bubble over, but it’s simmering, lower the heat all the way down to low.

Let it cook for 8 hours at *least*. Taste it every two or so hours, adjust the seasonings to your taste. Some people skim the fat that floats to the top. I don’t bother. If you do this, your stock will be a nicer color but I’m lazy af. But the more time cooking, the better. Your chicken bones seriously need all day to leach out all that marrowy goodness. That’s why I started mine at 9am this morning.

Some of it will evaporate as it cooks. That’s okay. I supplement with splashes of boxed chicken stock and adjust the seasonings. Use STOCK. not broth. You’re making a stock.

When it’s done, toss out the soup socks and voila. Golden, rich and delicious chicken stock. Tonight I’m making matzo ball soup for Mr. Disgruntled and freezing the rest. That way I can use it for whatever I wanna make with it. Risotto, different types of soup, whatever.

#cooking #chicken soup is really good for the soul #fuck it I’m putting it on jumblr #jumblr #Jewish cooking #Jew food is good food

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whatswrongwithblue · 5 months ago

Text

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 10 - Masquerade

Word count: 5,570. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: Takes place during the events of Episode 4 of Season 1. TW, canon typical language, recreational drug use, abusive power dynamics, mentions of past domestic abuse and rape - not involving Alastor, a tiny bit of light fluffy smut.

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 10 - Masquerade

Present Day

Pentagram City

Mina tossed and turned in the early hours of the morning before dawn, when the night was at its blackest. She was overheating and repeatedly kicked off all the blankets, only for her skin to crawl with the lack of anything touching it, so she would wrap the sheets around her again, arms around her torso and tail around her legs, until she would break out in another sweat and start the process over again.

When she finally sat up, fully awake, feeling the wet ache between her legs, she knew her body was coming into heat.

In the early morning darkness, she counted the past months on her fingertips and sighed. It was spring. At least this was just the first one and would likely only last a day before the one next month when it would hit her in full swing. Three cycles in the spring and one in the autumn. The worst one was always the one in the fall, but that was still months away.

And for the first time in years, she wasn’t alone.

Mina turned to Alastor’s side of the bed, which was still made up neatly and cold to the touch. He hadn’t come to bed last night but that was expected. She had never known him to be the type to sleep every night and he had slept long and soundly next to her just two nights prior.

It was still at least an hour before the other hotel guests woke up, and then they would keep his attention all morning and likely through the afternoon. Mina knew she would most likely have to wait until that evening to jump him but the dull cramping in her belly needed sating now.

She took care of herself, quickly and quietly, letting her mind wander to the wicked things she would ask him to do to her later.

Afterwards, clear headed and slightly more comfortable, she went and took a cold shower.

Things were far from perfect between them. In fact, internally, Mina was struggling more than ever to keep faith that Alastor would eventually come clean to her about why he had left for all those years. But at least they had their physical intimacy to lean on now. They were back to sharing a bedroom and making love again and in those short moments of privacy between them, it was easy to forget the pain he had caused her.

The first time had been the very same night he had found out about her getting shot.

He had come back upstairs a couple hours after leaving her to take a bath and get some rest, finding her under the covers and reading, and offered her food and an apology.

“Chicken noodle soup?” she asked with a raised brow as she set her book down on the nightstand and took the bowl he was offering.

“Charlie made it, not me,” he said, and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “Vaggie told her you weren’t well and she insisted I bring this to you.”

It looked and smelled as bland as unseasoned potatoes and Mina set the bowl on top of her discarded book.

“I’m sure she made it with love,” she said.

“I can bring you something else,” he offered.

“I’d rather just have you,” she said, remembering how their morning had begun, tangled up in their sheets together, before he had abruptly pulled away from her.

“I’ve been a jackass all day,” he said seriously, his brows pinching in confusion at her flirtatious behavior.

She laughed a little.

“Yes, you have,” she said, sitting up and pulling her legs free from the covers. “You’re always a bit of a bastard when you’re upset.” She moved until she was straddling his lap. “And you were upset because you care.” She had her hands on his shoulders for balance but then laced her fingers around the back of his head.

His own hands moved slowly up and down her back.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” he said and burrowed his face in the crook of her neck. “Not after everything . . .”

He didn’t finish the sentence. She had to bite back her anger at that. He still wasn’t saying nearly enough, even if it seemed like he wanted to. Mina just didn’t understand. She sighed, letting it go.

He had promised her she would understand eventually, she just had to keep holding tightly to that bit of hope.

“You’re not going to lose me, I’m not going anywhere,” she said, grabbing a hold of an antler and gently pulling it until he brought his face up to look at her. “Are you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They had made love then and it was like their first time all over again. His cock had filled her up so beautifully, his body so warm, strong, and tender above hers. When she orgasmed, it was like coming home. And the way he nearly lost control towards the end, his antlers growing and body morphing just a bit bigger than normal, told her he had missed this, too. He whispered words of love and praise into her neck after spilling his seed in her as his body relaxed, the static and emotion thick in his voice.

In the morning, she woke up to him naked and barely covered in sheets next to her, his red tail laying almost decoratively across his ass. She had been instantly hungry for him all over again and they went slower then, really taking the time to explore and reacquaint each other with their bodies.

They were so in love. It had been enough to fool Mina into thinking that their return to perfect bliss was right around the corner. When they were together like that, it felt almost silly to be angry about anything. In those moments, nothing could be clearer than the fact that they belonged together and that nothing could ever drive them apart.

Alastor was really good at that.

Any time she started to question him too much about things, showed any signs of irritation with him, he would find a way to distract her. Between helping Charlie run the hotel and keeping his wife placated, Alastor was a busy man these days. Whether or not he shared a bed with her the night before, he always made sure to have coffee and breakfast with her before getting wrapped up in the days events and if at any point they had an argument, he would make himself scarce for a few hours, just to return as sweet and apologetic as ever.

And despite the fact that he had hardly given her more than a hug and a kiss in the first two weeks of his return, they were suddenly making love a lot. In their bed, in the shower, in his radio tower. He even gave her an intense quicky in the small library that Sir Pentious had once tried to hide a camera in . . . in the middle of the day. Anyone could have walked in, and it was a risk her usually put together husband wouldn’t normally take. It almost made her wonder if he wasn’t in some kind of out of season rut but then he had gone back to acting completely normal afterwards.

Mina reflected on all of this as she cooled her overheated hormonal body down under the shower’s water and started to become confused and upset.

Was he gaslighting her?

Was he using the fact that she was touch starved and relieved that he was alive and well – all of which was his fucking fault – against her?

She had really thought that if she started doing as he asked, playing along with whatever his game with the hotel was; that if she allowed herself to just be happy that he was back and with her, that Alastor would eventually start telling her more about this huge secret he was keeping from her.

But it had been weeks – months – now since he came back and although she was upholding her part; playing the supportive, happy wife, he hadn’t given her anything besides sex in return for it.

Mina had even lost her job over it all. She had nothing now. Nothing except him, and this stupid fucking hotel, with its stupid pointless mission of redemption, and he wouldn’t even tell her why they were here. The people here, people who thought they were her friends, didn’t even really know her, did they? Not like her friends from The Pit or Cannibal Town. They didn’t know what she had been through, would judge her if they really knew what she was capable of, wouldn’t be able to deal with her through the worst of her moods. She couldn’t even tell Charlie what she did for a living when she first came to the hotel because if she were occasionally murdering souls, then it would go against Charlie’s mission to save those poor, wretched things.

Mina angrily slammed the knob of the water off and marched out of the shower.

She felt isolated, angry, hurt, and frustratingly still horny.

Forget whatever was in the cards for the day.

She needed to find Alastor, get him to fuck her hard for a couple hours, and then scream at him until he finally gave her some God damned answers.

Once she got dressed and had searched every possible room in the hotel for him though, it became apparent there was one small hole in her plan for the day.

Alastor was nowhere to be found.

____

Charlie assured Mina that she had sent him off on an errand first thing that morning but that he would be back momentarily.

Mina felt ready to rip her own hair out.

She knew she was being pissy but was far beyond the ability to care. Charlie had to send him away on this morning of all mornings?! Her only real outlet for her pent-up energy when she was in heat was either sex or violence, and if she wasn’t going to get either of those for the next few hours, she needed drugs.

Before Niffty could rope her into helping cook breakfast, Mina disappeared back upstairs and banged on Angel’s door.

He opened it, rubbing his eyes, clearly having slept in.

“I need downers,” Mina said, rudely pushing herself under his two left arms and into his room.

“G’morning to you, kittens. How may I be of service?” he said sarcastically.

“Aren’t you listening? I need drugs.”

“Whoa, honey. What’s got your panties all in a twist?” he said, and placed one of his hands to his chest while dramatically lifting his chin. “I am a clean, pure, innocent soul. I would never desecrate my body, my temple, these holiest of holes with something as disgraceful as-“

“What is this?” Mina said, interrupted his monologue, and holding up a packet of white powder that she quickly found in the first drawer she opened.

“Crack,” he answered, deflating. “Look, pussy cat, downers ain’t really my thing.”

“Not even weed?” she asked, feeling like she might cry. Why the fuck hadn’t she prepared better for this?

“Oh baby, yeah, how do you think I sleep at night?” he said, reaching into another drawer and handing her a joint. “I just figured you were looking for something stronger. Might I suggest Xanax, Heroin, Fentanyl, Numbutal-“

“I’m more of a liquor and opium kind of girl when I need something that strong. No, this will do nicely, thank you Angel, you’re a lifesaver.”

She held the joint between her lips and held up her thumb to the end, waiting for the flame to appear.

Nothing.

What the hell?

She shook her thumb and tried again.

Nothing.

That bloody bastard.

Abadon had taken her fire away. Completely. They had probably done it when they healed her shoulder and left her just enough power to portal away so she wouldn’t be suspicious.

“OH FUCKIN’ HELL!” she half screamed, half growled, and started to cry.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Angel held all four of his hands up, completely caught off guard by the tantrum she was throwing in his room and not understanding at all what was causing it. “Hey, I ain’t cut out for this womanly shit, could ya please calm the fuck down?”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to do here, ya daft spider!” she cried, pressing her palms to her eyes to try and force the tears to stop, the unlit joint hanging sadly from between her fingers. “Please?” she asked, in a frustrated whimper, “do you have a light, too?”

“Yeah, toots, whatever you need,” he said, cautiously handing her a lighter. “Jeeze, don’t you have a man for these kinds of things?”

“I don’t know where he is!” she bit back; teeth clamped tightly over the joint as she lit it. She took a long, deep drag in, holding it in for several seconds, before she tilted her head back and exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to calm herself down as she waited for the effects of the marijuana to hit her system. She wiped away the tears that had fallen in her outburst, blushing with embarrassment. “I woke up in heat this morning and he’s just fucking left off to somewhere. And I’m . . . well, I’m not the most mentally stable person on a good day, so I can be quite difficult when I’m like this. Especially if I don’t . . .”

“Get a good dick or some hard drugs inside you?” Angel teased.

“Or get to kill something,” she said, taking another hit.

She ended up smoking the entire joint herself and when she was still visibly tense, Angel shared a second one with her.

They went downstairs, earning themselves a glare from Vaggie when she caught a whiff of them, but Mina locked eyes with her and the shorter woman backed down before she started in with a lecture.

They still weren’t exactly friends yet, but they had a mutual respect for one another that was building towards that, and Vaggie had already got a glimpse of the kind of frantic mood Mina was in that morning, so she let the drug use slide without ratting them out to Charlie.

Mina wasn’t even visibly high. She was just far less jittery and slightly more pleasant to be around. Now she was sulking, because not only was she feeling neglected by her husband, but her oldest friend had betrayed her, and she had missed out on breakfast.

The morning only got worse when she was subjected to Charlie’s new idea for a bonding activity – show and tell.

She made the smart choice of sitting at the bar with Husk so that her view of the television set was limited during Angel’s turn. The sound effects were disturbing enough.

For a short moment, she actually found herself enjoying the activity when Husker started going off about everyone’s insecurities, until he called her out as well.

“Mina lashes out at everyone she cares about, so she can hurt them before they hurt her,” he said, before turning to Niffty. “And Niffty, you don’t even wanna know what her deal is.”

“And you like to blame everyone else for all your problems, rather than accept the consequences of your own actions,” she bit back, earning a pissed off glare from Husk.

Angel started laughing.

“Wow, the kittens have claws out this morning!” he said, and pulled Husker in as if to kiss him. “Meeeoooow.”

She snorted a laugh, knowing that kind of attention would only bother Husk more and watched as he reacted as she predicted.

The two were putting on quite a show for everyone that morning with their back-and-forth insults until Angel’s phone went off and he attempted to nonchalantly leave for work.

Mina reluctantly stood up from her place at the bar and went over with Vaggie to talk Charlie down as she lamented over the halt in the day’s activities.

“Maybe you could command a little more authority?” Vaggie offered.

“That is terrible advice,” Mina said.

Vaggie glared at her before turning back to Charlie.

“And so meeaaaaan,” the princess whined.

“It’s not mean, exactly. It’s aggressive kindness.”

“Um, no-“ Mina tried but Charlie was already jumping up from the ground.

“Okay! I could be so ‘aggressively kind’ to Angel’s boss that I convince him to let Angel spend more time at the hotel!”

“No! No, you will not, that will not work. At all,” Mina said walking over and grabbing Charlie by the shoulders, trying to talk sense into her.

“Oh, sure it will. Like I said, she’s the Princess of Hell. And I believe in her,” Vaggie said.

“You don’t know Valentino,” Mina snapped at her and then looked imploringly at Charlie, speaking softer. “There’s a difference between believing in someone and setting them up for failure. Do. Not. Go. There.” she said, emphasizing each word with a shake of Charlie’s shoulders. “Please, Charlie. Trust me on this, I know these Overlords, you won’t talk sense into them.”

“Maybe it’s never worked because no one has ever asked him nicely before!” Charlie said and Mina groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She was going to need another hit of something to get her through this.

“Fine, I give up. Go ‘command’, or whatever you think you’re going to do, Princess,” she sighed and walked away. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

___

Mina had really tried to be a better person that day.

She took as many drugs as she had to, to get her body to behave, so she could be polite to the other residents, and they still insisted on fighting with each other.

She had tried to stop Charlie from going to Valentino’s, offered her sound advice, and had been ignored.

She had tried waiting patiently for Alastor to come back from his ‘quick errand’ and hours later, he was still nowhere to be seen. Why he refused to carry a cell phone was beyond her. She had one, and she was an older soul than he was, even if by only a few years. Even Abaddon and Lucifer had phones for crying out loud.

She had been doing what he asked, and letting him know where she was going and with whom anytime she left the hotel, and he – the one who had gone missing without a trace for several fucking years – didn’t think he should have to return the favor?

Fuck him.

Fuck everyone here.

Fuck this whole hotel.

She sat at Husker’s bar, nursing a whiskey, and smoking a cigarette.

Angel wasn’t back yet either, which was probably Charlie’s fault for making things worse, so his bedroom door was locked and all her other options for downers were locked away as well.

At least the liquor kept her from ripping everyone’s heads off and the nicotine kept her hands from shaking too badly.

“Mina?” Charlie’s voice asked shyly from behind her, “maybe you could find somewhere else to smoke that?”

“Why?” she responded coldly, “not like anyone here can die from lung cancer.”

“Well, still,” Charlie said, and Mina turned around and looked at the solemn Princess. She had her arms around herself, looking more down and insecure than ever. Valentino must have really put her in her place. Whatever, Mina thought, she deserves it. “It can’t be good for you,” Charlie finished.

Mina laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. “And you would know what unhealthy lungs feel like, right love? You know what it feels like to cough up a mouthful of blood and still not be able to take in enough air?”

“Leave her alone,” Husk said. “The kid’s just trying to be nice.”

“No, she’s right, Husk,” Charlie said, “I-I’m sorry. You’re an adult. And this . . . this is a bar, after all. It’s what it’s here for.”

Mina nodded and took another drag of her cigarette.

“Don’t mind her being a bitch,” Husker said, looking at Charlie. “She’s just in a bad mood because Alastor’s not back yet. She wants to make her failed marriage everyone else’s problem.”

Mina threw her glass at Husker’s head, watching it shatter with satisfaction.

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK!” he said, blood dripping down the side of his face but the cut she had made was already closing. Too bad, he still retained some of his powers from being an Overlord and could heal quicker than most.

“Shut up and poor me another,” she huffed.

Charlie sat there, mortified and wide eyed, as Husker did exactly as he was told.

“Maybe one of you should go cool off somewhere,” she tried to offer.

“Not a chance. I need this” she said, lifting up her new glass of whiskey, lightly shaking it in front of Charlie’s face, “and he needs to remember his place. Do his job and not insult the wife of his boss, ‘failed marriage’ or not.”

Husker stayed silent as he swept up the shattered remains of the glass off the floor.

“Mina, your marriage isn’t a failure,” Charlie said softly. “Alastor will be back any minute. And you two still love each other. Whatever is going on, you’ll get through this. You’ve seemed so happy lately.”

“Glad everyone else can see how happy I’ve been besides myself,” Mina sniped and downed her glass.

She was behaving abhorrently. She knew it enough to feel guilty but then the guilt just made her angrier. It was a vicious cycle of emotions that she couldn’t even fully blame on being in heat; being mean made her feel good. It was probably the core reason why she ended up in Hell.

Vaggie came over and Mina rolled her eyes, knowing things were just about to get worse.

“Look, I get being worried,” she said, making it obvious she had been eavesdropping. “You two are . . . ah . . . different, okay? Your guys’ relationship is your own business. But, I know what it’s like to stress about someone you care about,” Vaggie put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder and gave her a sickly sweet lovestruck look, “But Alastor can take care of himself. I’m sure he’s just been busy today and will come back any minute now, safe and sound.”

“You think I’m worried about him?” Mina asked. “Oh, no, I’m fucking furious with the man.”

“Look, I’m the one that asked him to leave this morning,” Charlie started in. “If you want to blame anyone, you can blame me.”

“What an amazing martyr you would make,” Mina said, “but tell me, did you ask him to go on a short errand when he was gone for seven years?”

“No, but-“

“Then stay out of it,” Mina snapped.

“He’s probably just doing something to help the hotel-“

Mina held up her hand and Charlie stopped talking.

“Look at you two,” she said, gesturing with her cigarette between Charlie and Vaggie. “Young love. And it’s the real thing. What you have, it’ll last. It’s pure and strong, the kind of love anyone can see when they look at you. And neither of you can even imagine hurting the other one, yeah? If you yell at her, it’s like fire in your throat. The thought of her being hurt, it’s like a knife stuck in your ribs. The fear and pain of just the thought of her leaving you; you can’t breathe or think. You would never ever do anything to betray her, right? And you’re so confident that she feels the same about you. The very idea of an affair is laughable and what’s a worse betrayal than that? But just give it time. One of you will do something the other one couldn’t even fathom. Not another woman, not abuse, but something that will tear you to shreds, nonetheless. And on that day, come talk to me. Until then?” Mina took a final drag of her cigarette and then stamped it out on the naked wood of the bar. “Learn to mind your own fucking business.”

She got up and left, leaving a stunned Charlie, Vaggie, and even Husk silent in her wake.

___

Alastor was having a fantastic day.

Actually . . . it was pretty awful.

Everything was taking much longer than expected. It was tedious, and he would have to carefully explain away his absence for the entire day . . . or not. Charlie had so much planned for the day he doubted anyone really noticed he was gone. Still, the day had been frustrating, and he felt that now familiar feeling of invisible strings yanking him around a stage, making him do things he didn’t care to do, and keeping him from where he wanted to be.

What was fantastic about it was the brevity of it all.

It was over in just a few hours and rather than remaining alone, forced to be separated from his home and his heart, he got to return to the hotel and his wife.

Things had been just lovely between them lately. It was better than Heaven. Mina had been soft and sweet with him these last several weeks. Although it was clear she was still terribly curious about where he had been, she seemed to be slowly letting it go and just enjoying the fact that they were together again. It made him giddy as a teenage boy to have her back, to regain some control over his life again, and he clung tightly to that shred of happiness they had rekindled in each other.

He almost stopped and got her a bottle of wine and flowers, just to smooth over any transgressions she might feel over him being gone all day, but then decided it would just delay his return more. Better to just get back as soon as possible. And if he really needed to, he would summon whatever items he needed to later.

Alastor walked confidently through the doors of the hotel, whistling a happy tune.

He stopped short when he noticed a rather pathetic version of Vaggie sitting alone in the lobby, shuffling through television stations.

“And where is everyone on this fine evening?” he asked, striding over to her.

“Angel took off, Husk is out looking for him, Charlie is upstairs trying to work out a way to do damage control for tomorrow, I honestly don’t know where Pentious and Niffty are, and your wife-“ she took her eyes off the T.V. screen and gave him a pitying look “-is upstairs plotting your murder.”

“Ah, she has not taken my absence well today, has she?” he asked, glancing up at the staircase.

“Yeah,” she said with a laugh, “you could say that again. Where have you been, exactly?"

“Oh, I’ve been a busy little bee,” Alastor said, tapping her on the head with his microphone, before walking towards the stairs. “I’m sure you’ll all see the fruits of my labor, soon enough.”

He melted into shadow and drifted along the walls and out of sight.

“So fucking creepy,” Vaggie muttered to herself.

___

Mina was just throwing on her leather jacket when she felt rather than saw Alastor appear behind her.

He had his arms around her, and his mouth to her neck, before she could spin around.

“My, my, don’t you look delectable,” he said, taking a loud breath in and biting her softly right beneath her jawline as he exhaled.

She hesitated, for just a second, her body craving his touch too much for her not to. But she was so blindly angry that even the throbbing between her legs couldn’t win over her fury.

“Don’t touch me,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Mina, please allow me to explain,” he said, assuming she was just upset that he had been gone all day without explanation, unaware of the depth of her hormonal fury at him.

“You know what? I don’t even care right now,” she said, turning to face him once she had put some distance between them. “And I wouldn’t believe a damn word that came out of your mouth, anyway, so don’t bother.”

“And where are you going?” he asked, with a politeness that was hardly believable.

“Out. I called some old friends and we’re going out,” she said, holding up her cellphone as if he had never seen one before. “Some people have these, you know.” She pocketed the device in the back of her jeans. “I need to kill something after the day I’ve had, no thanks to you.”

“My darling, I really don’t care for the idea of you going out and looking for trouble. Not after what happened last time.”

“Well, if I get in trouble, I’ll call someone. Let them know where I am. Don’t worry love, I’ll be back before seven years comes and goes.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is all about.”

“It’s what everything is about! You left me. Spin it however you want, Al. You left me. And you’re a bloody damn fool if you think being sweet and throwing a few fucks my way is going to make me just forget that if you won’t even try to tell me why.”

“I am trying,” he said darkly.

The lights flickered in the room for a moment, but Mina just scoffed and turned around.

“You’re the worst husband I’ve ever had.”

He moved right behind her as she put her hand on the doorknob of their room, grabbing her and spinning her to face him.

“I’m the worst?” he said, his eyes black with fury and hurt. “What I’ve done is the equivalent to beating and raping you?”

“No,” Mina said sadly, watching the shadows crawl up the walls of their room, beginning to darken everything around them. “No, what you did was worse. Because I didn’t love him. He could only hurt my body. But you, you broke my heart, so you’re far worse.”

His grip on her shoulders lessened but the room only grew darker.

“Don’t say that to me,” he said, his voice quiet but far less human than normal.

She shoved him off, and he stepped away from her and into the room, but his shadow came off the wall to her side and pulled her deeper into the room as well.

Alastor was keeping his distance but also keeping her from the door.

“Take it back,” he said.

“Tell me why you left me,” she countered. “Then maybe I will.”

“I’ve already told you a thousand times, I can’t.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you can’t? You really expect me to believe that, love? You? You always do exactly what you want to do, so if you wanted to tell me, you would. It’s not like you made a fucking deal over it.”

As soon as she said the words, she knew it.

The look on his face gave him away more than anything he could ever admit out loud.

“No,” she whispered, watching the shadows retreat from the walls. She shook her head, “No.”

“Mina, please-“

“Tell me you didn’t,” she said.

A heartbeat went by.

“I can’t.”

And a heartbeat later, hers shattered.

“You sold your soul?” Her voice was so small, her throat so tight she could barely speak. This was the worst thing she could imagine. She hadn’t even been able to imagine it, it had just been a throwaway insult. Alastor, her Alastor, would never do that.

He didn’t answer.

“Alastor,” she said, and went to him then, putting gentle hands on either side of his face. “Please. Just tell me yes or no.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

“I can’t.”

She stepped away from him like he’d slapped her.

“When?”

Silence was his only response.

“How could you?” she hissed. “We’re married. That’s supposed to mean something, even to you.”

“It does,” he said, reaching for her. “It means everything.”

She took another step away.

“It means nothing now! We’re supposed to belong to each other! Husband and wife, that was our deal, you’re supposed to me mine as much as I am yours.”

“I am,” he said desperately. “Please, Mina. I am still yours.”

She was crying now, she felt the hot tears going down her cheeks, but they were silent. She was too stunned to sob yet.

Alastor stepped towards her again and this time she didn’t move away. She closed her eyes as his fingers, sharply clawed and capable of such violence, gently stroked her cheeks and brushed away her tears. He kissed her forehead, between her eyes, and then her lips.

“I am all yours,” he said.

“How can you be?” she said back, looking into his red eyes, seeing the devastated look on his own face, and felt her world fall away. “How can you be mine if you gave yourself to another?”

She stepped slowly away from him, further into the room. The door was behind him, but it wasn’t her only exit and she no longer cared if he knew.

“I hope it was worth it,” she said, and stepped backwards into the fiery portal she had opened.

She watched it close shut in front of her before he even got halfway to her.

Next Chapter ->

@saccharine-nectarine, @inuhalfdemon

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fic #alastor fic #alastor #radio demon #the fire in the sin

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hugsandchaos · 1 year ago

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@evandarya , @fluffen-spooky , @shorterthanaverage , @nottmuchtopost , @killercranberries , @cmstars2 , @amecurio , @scythgal , @writer-extraordinaire , @waitimdissocaitingagain , @imaginationmademanifest , @chrysanthemum9484 , @rasberry-muffin , @jaguarthecat , @dannyphantomphan , @starmee-lodurrson , @thefearfullone , @decisively-o-indecisive , @nifeout , @sailor-goddess , @the-legal-shipper , @ollietheotaku , @lov3ly-pain , @robinmedea , @viyatrix , @markus209 , @kyrianclawraith , @newgraywolf , @the-church-grimm , @scribbiesan-main , @bruh-incoming , @sunflower-sovereign , @britcision , @spooky-fm , @phoenixdemonqueen , @latheevening226 , @avenlfear , @starscreamlover , @undead-essence , @emiwritesthings , @jaytriesstuff , @calcifina , @bun-fish , @luffyrose, @potatoeofwisdom , @thegatorsgoose , @markus209 , @may-rbi , @mothman-the-mothman-87 , @dannyisababyking , @soul-lime , @elvesandlanterns , @bahfev , @blackroserelina , @love-has-no-labels , @deepslumberworld , @lesling123 , @peachpopprize , @moons-cat , @phil-lis I GOT YA’LL SOME SECONDS!!!

This is much later and a lot shorter than I intended it to be.

Diana was expecting to have a normal night routine, which included the typical 3AM snack, not go downstairs and nearly have a heart attack when she realized a boy had broken into her house to get some food. She should’ve called the cops, yet here she was, sharing some leftover chicken noodle soup with him.

“Sorry for the intrusion. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t break anything and the only thing I intended on stealing was a bit of food.” The boy, or Danny as he introduced himself, apologized. Diana handed him a bowl and fork and sat next to him on the couch, where they both sat in darkness, with the exception of the light from the kitchen.”It’s alright. Now that I’ve given it to you, it’s not considered stealing, now is it?” She replied. The black haired boy smiled a bit and shrugged.

They both ate in silence for a while. Or at least, in audible silence. Diana’s mind raced with questions and only a few answers. How did he even manage to get in without breaking anything? Did he pick a lock? She would probably have to change them. Where did he come from? In the little light flowing in from the kitchen, his clothes looked battered and dirty. Diana couldn’t tell which assumption was worse; the possibility of him coming from an awful home or not having a home at all.

When Diana glanced at her phone to check the time after eating, she saw that 15 minutes had flown by. It felt like only three or four. She got up to bring her bowl to the kitchen sink, but was stopped by Danny speaking up.“Do you know of any homeless shelters I could crash at?” He asked.

So that confirmed that assumption.”The closest one is a couple miles. You should stay here for the night.” Diana said. She put her bowl in the sink, which was soon copied by Danny. He looked at her as if she grew a second head.”Wait, seriously?” He asked.“I’m grateful for the offer, but a kid appeared in your house with no sign of forced entry raiding your kitchen and you want to let him stay the night? I honestly expected you to chase me out when you turned on the lights.” He said.

“I think we’re both a little too tired to discuss this. Get some rest and we’ll talk more in the morning, you look worse than some of my coworkers.” Diana said, flipping the light switch off and heading to bed.”There’s a closet with spare blankets and pillows down the hall. Help yourself.” She added.

At the end of the hall, she opened the door to her bedroom and Danny found the closet.”Isn’t it technically already morning?” He asked. Dianapaused and rolled her eyes with a small smile.”Oh, no. The kid who broke into my house is into jokes.” She joked before closing and locking her door.

In the morning, Danny was gone. He left a thank you note and mentioned that he’s heading towards the homeless shelters.

If we ever cross paths again, teach me how to make that soup! — Danny

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fic #stray cat Danny

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laundrybiscuits · 11 months ago

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let me out my head, let my mind run free / let me just pretend that I feel like me / need a flicker start ‘cause I’m ready / anything to spark a new beginning

That murky summer was the longest of Eddie’s life. It had started in rapid-fire panic and death like a blockbuster horror flick, and tapered off to a dull ache that seemed to stretch over his body and soul like a shaky meniscus.

He moved slow, that summer. He’d never thought too much about his body except as something that had inconvenient wants and needs sometimes; it cleaned out the fridge and cupboards faster than Wayne could fill them, it kept shifting and fidgeting when he knew damn well that he had to sit still, it had strange hungers that he swallowed down again and again.

In the spring, he’d opened his eyes to a pea-soup fog of pain, and for a little while it had felt like he didn’t have a body at all, just a useless collection of twitching flesh pieces strung together with chicken wire.

It got better. The docs threw around words like “miracle,” but it didn’t feel much like one. Mostly it just felt like getting back to his old body, but with all the dials turned down. Slower, especially at first, and stiffer, and weaker. Everything took twice as long to do, and consequently the summer became longer and longer. It might’ve had the same number of minutes in it that all of Eddie’s summers always had, but every one of those minutes was soaked through with a grey kind of languor.

Dustin didn’t really get it, but he kept coming around anyway. With him came Steve Harrington.

Steve didn’t talk to Eddie a lot. Not that summer. Not at first. He was just sort of there, flipping through a magazine in the corner of Eddie’s hospital room like a blurry apparition, then shepherding in Dustin and sometimes Mike and Lucas (and even Erica, once or twice) while Eddie held exhausted court from a recliner, handing them off like a pack of puppies for Eddie to watch for a couple hours.

Eventually, Eddie roused himself enough to ask: “Where do you even go while they’re here, man?”

“Just around, I don’t know,” said Steve. “I drive around. It’s nice out.”

“That’s really dumb. Just stay here,” Eddie told him. So after that, Steve stayed.

It was easier when Steve could say hey dickheads, Eddie’s tired, let’s go. And then ten or fifteen or twenty minutes later it’d be quiet again, and most of the time Eddie wouldn’t even bother moving, he’d just curl up and fall asleep on the recliner.

He was just so worn-out all the time. There didn’t seem to be any such thing as rest for him. Even when he wasn’t actually sleepy, getting through the day felt like slogging through calf-deep sand.

The first time Steve showed up by himself, Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I thought Henderson left for camp this week,” he said. Steve had a key by that point, to save Eddie having to get the door all the time, so he’d just walked in and started unloading groceries.

“Yeah,” said Steve, like it was obvious. “That’s why he’s not here.”

Eddie didn’t ask the conspicuous follow-up question, but he thought it real hard as Steve shut the fridge.

Maybe the bat bites had psychically linked them after all, because Steve huffed out a sigh and turned around. “I brought a couple of those movies you like—the werewolf one and the zombie one. Plus we just got Jewel of the Nile, so I figured if you wanted a change of pace…” Steve wiggled his eyebrows, and Eddie found himself laughing without really meaning to.

“You thought I’d like Jewel of the Nile for a chance of pace?”

“No, I thought I’d like Jewel of the Nile and you’d put up with it because you’re such a good friend,” Steve said. “For a change of pace.”

So that’s how Eddie found out they were friends.

After that, it was easier. That was about the time Eddie started being able to move around a lot better too, so it all got tangled up in his head: Steve, and movement. Freedom, and Steve.

It was a lot to put on Steve’s shoulders, so mostly Eddie tried not to. But Steve kept coming around by himself sometimes even after Dustin got back from camp, and the back half of the summer passed a little smoother and a little sweeter like that.

The kids started preparing to go back to school, and Eddie didn’t. Steve very blatantly tried not to ask about it until one evening, sitting on the porch, he finally said: “School.”

He pressed his lips together like he hadn’t even meant to say that much. Eddie just shrugged.

“Got my pity diploma in the mail, dude.”

“What? When?”

“Like, uh. A month ago? Maybe two?”

“Shit, man. You shoulda told me, I’d have—we’d have—the kids’d go nuts, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“What, uh. What’re you planning? Like, what’s next?”

Eddie rolled his shoulders. “I dunno. What’s next for you?”

Steve leaned back, bracing himself on his hands and looking up at the violet sky. After a moment, he said, “Guess I don’t know either. Maybe we both need, like…a fresh start. We could, I don’t know. Go somewhere.”

“Ste-eve Harrington.” Eddie smiled up at him. “Are you asking me to run away with you? Whatever will the society papers think?”

Steve didn’t take the bait, though. He just grinned back at Eddie and said, “Maybe I am. Whatcha gonna do about it, Munson?”

Eddie hesitated, but what did he have to lose? Or rather—what did he have to gain?

He reached out, slow and careful, and settled his hand over Steve’s. It felt like a circuit connecting. Like something was clicking back together inside of Eddie at last.

Steve didn’t say anything about it, but he didn’t move, either. They just sat there for a while in the twilight, watching the light change.

DVD extra:

“I’m going to see Eddie!” Lucas hollered, halfway out the door. “I’ll be back by dinner!”

“Uh-huh, and I’m not good enough for your stupid boys’ club?” Erica shrieked, tearing around the corner and skidding to a stop so she could plant her hands on her hips and glare at Lucas.

“What?” said Lucas.

“It’s just a little suspicious how there’s no girls allowed when you go see that long-haired freak,” she sniffed.

“Do you…want to come with me?” Lucas said slowly.

“Of course I don’t, dumbass! Why would I want to go?” Erica pushed past Lucas, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. “But someone’s gotta make sure you stupid boys don’t burn the place down.”

“Hey, Lucas,” called Steve, leaning out of the car window. “Erica coming with us today?”

Lucas made frantic throat-cutting motions.

“Huh?” said Steve. “She’s…not coming with us?”

Lucas groaned and jogged up to the car. “She’s coming, just don’t talk about it,” he hissed.

He thought for a second about trying to slide over the hood of the car like cool guys in the movies, but if he messed it up, Erica would never let him live it down. She’d be telling the story at his wedding and his funeral. So he just walked around to the passenger side like a normal person and got in.

“Seatbelts,” said Steve.

“I remember you being less of a nerd,” said Erica. “Now move it, the king of the nerds is waiting.”

#I caught the Panorama tour at Koko! it’s been a very dykepop year in live music for me #this is a very chill uptempo song about depression/anhedonia and tbh it was a struggle to keep it from ending too dark #but also this was a distraction from writing the next fill which will in fact be straight-up pornographie #so hopefully that will balance things out a bit.#ask games

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