#his rose made him seaweed soup

[last-blue-hours]

the little prince is sun bathing

[the-fiction-witch]

The Boy Named Luke

Media - House Of The Dragon (AU KINDA) Character - Lucerys Velaryon (Amnesia) Couple - Lucerys X Reader Reader - Sara Storm Rating - 12 Word Count - 1175 Requested -

please write a new one shot for lukeeee

Sara walked barefoot along the golden sandy beach, her woven basket swaying gently in her hand as she scanned the shore for crabs, sea glass, and any other treasures that could be turned into a hearty soup or traded for much-needed provisions. She made sure to stay within the shadow of Stonedance, the ancient castle looming protectively behind her, as she ventured further along the coastline.

Kneeling down, she carefully gathered a handful of glistening seaweed, already considering how she might dry and season it for sustenance. The blockade of the narrow sea had severely limited the availability of food in the region, leaving her with no choice but to forage for whatever she could find.

As she rose to her feet, her eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the expanse of the shimmering water and the distant sails of passing ships. The blockade, initially intended to impact only King's Landing, had cast a wide net of hardship, affecting not only the capital but also reaching the shores of Stonedance and many other southern houses.

Lost in her thoughts, Sara continued her solitary stroll along the beach, the rhythmic sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop to her troubled mind. Suddenly, she came to an abrupt halt, her gaze fixed on a figure lying face down in the sand, a solitary and mysterious presence against the serene backdrop of the coastline.

She dashed over as swiftly as her feet could carry her, Setting her wicker basket down with a thud, she knelt beside the figure lying on the ground. It was a boy, perhaps a year younger than her, she thought, with tousled dark hair that was matted with blood. His clothes were torn and stained, and his body was bruised and battered. He lay there, soaked to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. Despite his obvious distress, he could barely open his eyes, but the faint rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was still breathing.

“Oh- praise the gods,” she gasped removing her knitted shall and wrapping it around him to keep him warm, “You poor thing,” she cooed, “Let's get you warm and away from the waves,” she said,

She looked around for a moment and spotted an old, weather-beaten wheelbarrow that someone had discarded on the beach. With a determined look on her face, she dug it out from the sand, the grains sticking to her fingers, and brought it over to where he lay. She carefully lifted him into the wheelbarrow, making sure he was comfortable, and began the challenging task of pushing it through the uneven sand. With each step, she focused on keeping the wheelbarrow steady, determined to bring him to safety. The sun beat down on her back as she made her way back up the beach, the sound of crashing waves providing a backdrop to her determined efforts to take him with her.

Sara took the boy home and set him up in her bed, she made the fire warm and cosy, made hot tea and the last of her potato soup. She looked over all his wounds finding some of them strange to her, his leg puzzled her the most it had been punctured but not by steal or lance it was far too wide and deep, by the looks of his wounds she almost thought he’d been bitten. Her mind began to run thinking of some hellish Kraken below the waves that may have tried to consume the poor boy, but she tossed away such worries happy she found him when she did.

She dedicated herself to the task of tending to his wounds with meticulous care, gently cleansing and wrapping each injury before applying a soothing blend of herbs and oils to promote healing. Despite her lingering concerns about the severity of his leg injury, she spared no effort in ensuring his comfort and well-being. As the ominous clouds gathered on the southern horizon, she vigilantly monitored his condition, shielding him from the impending storm by maintaining a warm and dry environment within her humble abode. With unwavering determination, she tended to the fire and diligently kept the stove pot simmering, fortifying their sanctuary against the battering rain. Every creak and groan of the house under the assault of the tempest spurred her into action, as she meticulously sealed every crevice with makeshift barriers of rags to fend off the invasive drafts and potential leaks. When a stubborn leak defiantly announced its presence through the roof, she swiftly positioned a small pan beneath it, the soft pitter-patter of the droplets creating a rhythmic melody amidst the cacophony of the storm.

The thunder made the boy stir slightly, so she softly ran her hand through his hair to soothe him, gently humming in the hope of helping him rest through the harsh storm.

“Mother…” he gasped as he stirred once more,

“Shhh… it’s okay, you’re alright,” Sara cooed,

Slowly his eyes fluttered open and met with Sara, he seemed confused he tried to sit up but found it too painful,

“Don’t try to move, it’s alright you’re safe here,” she reassured, “here, drink this. It’s not much but it should help,” she said making him a bowl of potato soup and bringing it over for him,

“T-Thank you miss…” he shivered taking the bowl and sipping away at the soup, that warmed his insides and his very soul, “Where… where am I?” He asked,

“Stonedance,” she answered,

“Stone- Stonedance?”

“Mhm, south of Dragonstone and North of Storms End if that helps?” She smiled,

“No- not really.”

“That’s alright, what matters is your safe,” she said, “Do you remember what happened?”

“No…I… I don’t remember anything,” he answered rubbing his head, “How- how did you find me?”

“You were washed up on the sand, almost frozen to death so I brought you here.”

“Thank you,” He said,

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, “It’s no trouble at all, and you can stay here as long as you need to.”

“I couldn’t-”

“It’s alright really, I’d be worried sick about you if I tossed you out in this storm.” She explained, “You can stay as long as you need, at very least until your better.”

“Thank you miss,” He softly smiled, “Thank you so much- I- I don’t know how I could repay you I- I don’t think I have any gold I-”

“Don’t worry about it, just focus on getting better.” She cooed, “Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

“I just remember rain… and then falling… hitting the water… and waking up here.”

“Ohh you poor thing,” she cooed, assuming the poor boy was thrown off a ship in the rough narrow sea and ended up washed up there. “Well you don’t need to worry, you’re safe here and I’m happy to look after you until you're better.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, “I uhh I don’t know your name?”

“Sara,” she smiled, “And you? Do you remember your name?”

He sat for a moment clearly digging deep in his mind looking for the answer, “I… I think I…” he stuttered, “Luke.” he nodded with confidence to his voice, “My names Luke.” 

[akwolfgrl]

Drowned song 5

The night was cool, and the moon was waning gibbous. It had been full the night Luffy had crashed into his life quite literally. Sanji made his way to the edge of the Merry and placed his towel down before slipping off his shoes and clothes, leaving a small waterproof bag and his swimsuit on. The water was calling to him, and tonight, she was far too hard to ignore, not that he made it a habit to deny his loveliest lady for long. Sanji dove in, allowing his tail to form as he splashed and swam. His night vision was excellent as he drove deeper and deeper to the depths below, passing various sea life on his way down.

A school of colorful fish swam by as he reached the bottom, Sanji released his Song in joy as he began to explore the seafloor. His song would help the area flourish with plenty. He took the small knife he always took with him and cut away some old tangled nets that were encasing the coral reefs. He could spend all night here if he didn't have to wake in the morning to cook. Sanji spotted some sea urchins, their black spiky outside hiding a creamy inside. If he grabbed them, he wouldn't have room in his bag for anything else, but it would be worth it. Next time, he'd bring his net and maybe his spear.

Sanji began to collect them, spotting them easily among the colorful coral. Dreaming of the ways he could cook them up. Steamed uni with rose sea bass, seaweed soup with uni, uni pasta, temaki sushi, something simple like uni with rice and egg. Perhaps he could come back down in the morning with a net and gather some oysters and clams. Really, wow, his new crew. He couldn't wait to dive in the grandline, maybe even hunt a sea beast or sea king. Their meat was said to be wonderful if you could kill one. He watched as an octopus darged itself across the sand over the rocks, Sanji chucked as it scurried away. When he had filled his bag, Sanji reluctantly said his goodbyes and swam back up to the surface.

[idol-trickster]

👨, 👩 , and 🌺? :3c

@grimmshood

👨 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their father? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👩 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their mother? Is it good, bad, or complicated?

Jiwoon lit up at the thought of someone asking about his parents.

"우리아빠 엄마? I gave them a good and comfortable life! I encouraged them to retire, but they said it wouldn't feel right to stop working; that the family restaurant made them happy and I brought them plenty of business already. Either way, they're very proud of me as their son and that I'm successfully doing something that I love too. They know how hard I worked and were always worried about me... but they said we were very strong and resilient people. No matter where we were, they were supporting me and happy that I carried part of our home with me while still performing knife tricks, for the world now with my own passion for music, instead of only in a restaurant to tourists. I owe my most unique instruments and performances to them."

Left to ponder, he thought of where he was now and how little he actually got to see them. Everything had a price and becoming legendary held a steep one; claiming time from friends, family, and normality. Still, he wouldn't change anything if given the chance; he grew out of needing those commodities of life so long ago, and now? Well, he was legendary.

"If you want to know individually though... My dad was a warm-hearted and talentedly creative man. With music, he met my mom, but he gave up his dreams of pursuing a musical path to become a hard-working man and support his family. Some people say we got lucky when the IMF crisis happened, but really my parents were just smart enough to make it work, both of them running a business and planning well. His military experience let him know what foreigners were like and in turn, I learned a lot from him and how to entertain people who already see a lot of action. When I went to a concert with him, I understood what people felt when they saw me; something new and amazing; I wanted to do that too, and he was happy to share a love of music and supported me. He's a wise man with kind eyes and the best 군만두 (pan-fried dumplings)."

"My mom taught me how to be strong, clever, and unique since she was a smart career woman who got laid off when she was pregnant. Unable to find a job in the workforce, she and my dad decided to run the restaurant together. My dad supported the family and she focused on our business' reputation. It was thanks to her that we figured out how to include my skills in the restaurant to set us apart. When I had an interest, she would make sure I practiced safely and even bought me my first beginner knives. She told me that no matter what other people think, never let them stop me from being special; also to think before I speak, understand people by listening to them, and to not let other people tell me my worth. She's loving, protective, and spirited. I think the special things she made were the best... 미역국 (Seaweed soup) for birthdays and 시루떡 (Red-bean rice cake) for offerings."

Yeah. He made it however he could; reclaiming what made him unique. Trickster will certainly never be forgotten again. He hopes they're still proud and can manage to retire peacefully.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

🌺 - Does your muse have a favorite flower? Why do they like it?

"I don't really pay attention to flowers much- but maybe roses. They're very versatile, come in all sorts of colors, and are usually passionate and classy; the first flower everyone thinks of."

He gives a chuckle and holds up a familiar potted plant.

"Though it only has flowers sometimes, I really like Joji's. It looks like a star."

[xoxo-teddybear]

Nothing But a Bet - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, cursing, sexual mentions

Summary: Bakugou and his friends were just joking around! Nobody expected Bakugou to fall in love! But what’ll happen when Y/N finds out she started off as nothing but a piece of a game to her boyfriend.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but Bakugou sure is glad with the way things turned out.

About 11 months ago, Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero were messing around. The boys were making bets but once Kaminari had gone too far on the one he offered Bakugou, Kirishima called it quits and decided to back out of their little game.

Kaminari had dared Bakugou to ask out new girl on a date, be with her for a week, and not fall in love. Seemed like a simple bet. Y/N L/N, the new student, was very pretty. She was an incredible fighter but Bakugou didn’t know her enough to even call her a friend yet. All he had to do was date her for a week and not catch feelings? Seemed simple enough. And besides, if he won he would be getting Denki as a personal assistant for a month, getting him anything he wants. Bakugou was in.

The bet was simple. So simple! So how could Bakugou have failed? He couldn’t help it. Y/N was just so...perfect. She was kind and compassionate, but she also had poison on her tongue and always stood her ground. She was strong and gorgeous, and she was patient and always listened to Katsuki to help him with whatever. Throughout the first week, she was always there for Katsuki and even though she didn’t always give him what he wanted, she gave him what he needed, and that’s when he realized he needed her.

So after the first week of Bakugou and Y/N together as a couple came another..and another...and another..and another. Weeks turned to months and those months turned into almost a whole year. The couple has been dating for 11 months and was waiting for their 1 year anniversary to come right around the corner.

Bakugou was completely whipped for Y/N. He waited on her, hand and foot, and treated her like the queen she is. He loved her with his entire being and just being around the girl made him a better, happier person. He went through all the steps in a young relationship with Y/N. They were each other’s first love, first kiss, first date, first everything! Even their first time! Yup, Bakugou and Y/N had both lost their v-cards to each other and it was a night Bakugou would never forget.

And now here we are! The day of their anniversary! Y/N and Bakugou woke up in each other’s arms in Bakugou’s dorm room.

“Good morning Suki,” Y/N said with love laced in her voice. Bakugou was awake but kept his eyes shut as he pressed his forehead to Y/N’s temple and just smiled.

“G’morning Princess,” he then pecked her cheek, “happy one year,” he softly said. He pulled you in closer and you giggled at his sleepy state. You both shared a quick peck and Bakugou finally opened his eyes to stare at his beautiful princess.

“So! What’re we gonna do today?” Y/N asked with glee. As Bakugou opened his mouth to answer, his phone rang and you both looked towards it. Bakugou growled and rolled his eyes as he reached for his phone to answer. He sighed before he spoke.

“Hello?......what?! .....ugh, today of all days?” He said and looked towards Y/N with sad eyes, “C’mon! I got plans for today....no I know but-....*sigh* fine. I’ll be there in an hour.” He hung up the phone and tossed it to his night stand and he frustratingly tucked his head in Y/N’s neck and growled.

“Sooo....plans are canceled?” You said with a little hint of disappointment. Bakugou looked at you with a regretful eyes as he softly spoke.

“I’m sorry Princess, Aizawa’s calling me and Kirishima in for extra training. He planned this months ago and I told him not to put me on for today but I guess he forgot. If I don’t go in today then I don’t get to go in at all and it puts me behind. I’m sorry Y/N,” he said apologetically.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Love. I get it, and it’s fine. We’re hero trainees, we gotta be at our best,” you said with a smile. Bakugou smiled at your grin and was thankful he had someone as understanding as you. “What time should you be back?”

“Uhh, probably around 9 tonight,” he sadly said.

“Oh wow...that’s a long time,” you said with a little sadness.

“Yeah I know, and I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you!” Bakugou said. He felt so bad for missing your anniversary but he had to do what he had to do.

“It’s fine Suki. You said you’d be back at 9, so that’s when we’ll celebrate.” You offered.

“Baby, the dorm’s curfew is 10. What’re we gonna do for an hour outside?” He asked.

“Who said we had to leave the dorms to celebrate our anniversary? I could set something up here in one of our rooms and when you get back, we can celebrate. Just you and me, all night.” Bakugou smiled at his creative girlfriend. He was so blessed. He held you closer and covered your face in kisses as you giggled away. He loves the sound of your laugh and voice and craves to hear it all the time.

“Okay then, but I still want to make it up to you,” Bakugou bargained. Y/N only smiled and rolled her eyes at her stubborn boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m not complaining,” you laughed and Bakugou followed. He kissed you one last time before he got up and got ready. You stayed in his bed a bit longer and waited till he got out of his shower to leave to your own dorm to get ready. You both couldn’t wait for tonight!

*Timeskip*

It’s was 8:30 and Bakugou would be back soon and you both agreed to have your celebration in your room so that when Bakugou gets back, he can get ready. You set up your room perfectly. A table in the middle, a few candles, a few roses. Petals scattering the floor and his anniversary gift on your bed. You spent all day in the dormitory kitchen making spicy gyoza, seaweed salad, miso soup, and a variety of sushi. The room looked amazing and so did you! Your makeup was top notch and you wore a gorgeous maroon red dress that hugged your body. It was tightly hanging off your shoulders and the length went down to your upper thigh. You wore a skinny black choker and a gold necklace. You finished off your look with black strappy heels. It was a little chilly so you opted for a black leather jacket and honestly it pulled the whole look together.

You sat on your bed as you waited for Katsuki to come back but decided it was time to set the table. You brought the food and utensils, the plates and cups, and went back to get a pitcher of ice water. As you returned and placed the pitcher on the table, you went to close the door but heard Kaminari and Sero down the hall.

“Can you believe Bakugou and Y/N lasted this long?” Sero said. You got curious as to why they were randomly speaking of you both and listened in.

“I know right! It’s their one year today and they have me to thank for it!” Kaminari said in a boastful voice. “It was all thanks to my bet that Kacchan even asked her out in the first place.”

Your eyes went wide as you continued to listen. “What?” You whispered to yourself.

“True. And to think it all started out as a bet.” The boys laughed and joked around as they said they were happy for their friend but you shut the door and pressed your body against it. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs and let the tears fall to the ground.

“I’m nothing but a bet.”

—

Minutes passed and Bakugou texted you that he was in his dorm getting ready. You didn’t reply. You fixed your makeup to look a little normal but nothing could hide the fury and heartache in your eyes. You waited a few for Katsuki to walk through the doors and the time finally arrived

“Happy anniversary babe!” Bakugou said as he walked through the doors. He was holding his gift for you and was wearing a maroon red button up that matched your dress. He rolled up the sleeves and unbutton the top. He wore a silver chain with black jeans and black boots. He put on his watch and you weren’t gonna lie, he looked insanely handsome, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from doing what you had to.

“You look hot,” he said as he smirked and looked you up and down. You stood and gave a quick smile before letting it drop once more but Katsuki didn’t notice. As you kept your gaze to the now very interesting ground, Katsuki made his way over to you. He stood very close and he attempted to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in for a kiss but you placed your hands on his chest to stop him. “Uh? Baby? What’s wrong?” He nervously laughed out.

“....Bakugou we need to talk,” you calmly said but held back all the anger and sadness you were feeling. You pushed Bakugou back a little and he placed the gift down on the table. He looked at you with a confused face before he spoke.

“Bakugou? Baby, it’s Katsuki. Suki? Your Suki. Are you alright?” He asked with a worried voice. You laughed at his confusion. He really didn’t get it. He really didn’t understand that this was the end for you both. An uncomfortable silence rang through the room and you bit your lip in nervousness before you spoke.

“.....How could you?....I gave you my everything and it was all a lie! You were my first everything Katsuki! My first kiss, my first love. ...Oh my god I can’t believe I actually slept with you!” You said with a soft broken voice as your arms held your body and you looked towards the ground in regret. Bakugou was confused but seeing your sad form made him so upset. And hearing that you regret the times you both made love to each other broke him. He was worried for you and he ran to you to give you a hug but you pushed him away again.

“Baby-“

“Stop calling me that!”

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You finally snapped your eyes up to face his as you looked at him with angry eyes and pools of tears as they streamed down your face.

“I’m nothing but a bet to you!” You screamed. Bakugou’s face went into shock as his eyes went wide and an open frown appeared on his face. You found out. You fucking found out but who the hell told you. Who the fuck ruined his perfect relationship?!

“Who-...who told you?” He asked with an angry, sad, shaken voice. You rolled your eyes as you noticed that after what you told him, that was what he was worried about.

“Does it matter?! Is it true or not?! ....did you really use me for a bet?” You asked with a broken heart. Bakugou bit his lip as he contemplated lying to you and moving on from this to keep his relationship, or telling you the truth in hopes that his understanding girlfriend would understand and stay with him. Both options were risky but he went for the latter.

“Yes..it’s true. You started off as a bet,” Bakugou watched as you looked around and threw your arms, shrugged your shoulders, and let them drop again. Your body just screamed “I knew it,” as he watched you with fear but continued. “But that doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real!”

“How am I supposed to trust that?!” You screamed.

“Please! Please just trust me! Y/N I love you! I do, I swear! I was an idiot to place that bet but I didn’t expect myself to actually fall in love with you!” Bakugou heard what he said and cringed as he realized he basically just said he didn’t think it would be possible for him to fall in love with you. You looked at him in offense and hurt as he quickly spoke up again. “No, no, no, no! I didn’t mean it like tha-“

“Bakugou! Stop......just get out.” You calmly said but Bakugou felt his heart shattering.

“W-what? Y/N you can’t be serious. ...Can we at least talk about this first, please!” Bakugou said as he tried to grab your hand but you quickly yanked it out of his reach.

“No! Bakugou-“

“It’s Katsuki!”

“We’re done!” And there it was. Bakugou’s felt his entire world crumbling as his tears flowed down his face like twin rivers.

“P-please! You can’t do this!” Bakugou screamed as he ran to you and wrapped you in his arms. He let his head fall into your neck but you pushed at him and demanded he let you go. “Please don’t leave me! Please! I’m s-sorry! I can make it up to you, I promise just don’t leave!”

“Bakugou, let me go!” You said as your own tears fell and you pushed at his chest. Each time you got closer to getting him off, his hold tightened and he pulled you closer.

“No! Y/N please don’t do this to us!” He begged.

“Bakugou there is no ‘us’ anymore so let me go!” You demanded.

“Please! There’s nothing I can say to fix it! You started out as part of a bet, I’ll admit it, but I ended up falling in love with you, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done! I spent a year of my life with you and I wanna spend so much more! Please! You can’t leave me!” Another silence came upon the room. You stopped fighting due to exhaustion and Bakugou just continued to cry in your neck as he continued to hold you tight. His pleas and cried fell upon deaf ears as you already made up your mind.

“....I hate you.” You whispered as you let harsh tears seep out. Bakugou remained unphased and just assumed it was your pain speaking.

“I love you.” He quietly said. “Please just give me another chance to make this right,” he begged.

You felt Bakugou’s grip loosen and that’s when you quickly took the opportunity to use your quirk and push him off. Your quirk pressed him against the wall and kept him there.

“Hey! Y/N! What are you doing!? Let me go! Please!” He cried out as he watched you grab a blanket, a pillow, sleeping clothes and makeup remover. You’ll sleepover in Mina’s room if Bakugou won’t leave your room. “Please Princess! Don’t leave! I can fix this if you give me another chance! Im begging you to stay! I’m sorry! Please stay!”

“Since you won’t leave, I will. We’re done Bakugou,” you said as you got in his face. You noticed his shaky voice and frantic eyes as he searched your soul to see if you were serious. His mouth hung open slightly as he shook his head ‘no’ in disbelief. “From now on, don’t talk to me, don’t touch me, don’t even look at me! I hate you.” You said and walked out of your room and slammed the door. Katsuki fought against the restraints and once you got far enough, you released your quirk and Bakugou quickly ran out the room to look for you. But he didn’t see any sight of you and so he went back inside you room. He locked himself in there and cried.

He cried and begged that the whole thing was just a bad dream and he would wake up any minute now. But this wasn’t a dream. And Bakugou had really just lost the one he loved. He looked at the room and everything you set up. He cried as he looked around and felt so sorry for both you and him. That night, he slept in your room on your bed, crying. He didn’t even bother to change or anything. He just wanted to escape this new reality.

“Please come back Teddy Bear....I’m sorry.”

[creative-type]

mozuku seaweed and rice gen, set nebulously post-wano, Sanji and Jimbe-centric for @creepysora, Merry Christmas my friend

…

The clock inched closer to midnight. Every dish was clean, the next morning’s breakfast prepped, Sanji’s domain put back in order. He sat hunched under the light of a single candle as he scratched out the week’s menu. His toes tapped in time with the ticking seconds, humming a tuneless song while the waves rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

His stocks were still in chaos after Luffy’s disastrous attempts at playing chef. There just hadn’t been time to replenish anything but the basics. At least his captain hadn’t touched their wine collection, and Sanji poured himself a glass of rosé as he lit a cigarette with the flickering flame of the candle.

As Sanji exhaled a ring of smoke, the door to the galley opened. He looked up just long enough to see Jimbe’s hulking frame duck under the doorway before returning to his menu.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“No,” Jimbe somehow made that one syllable sound both authoritative and formal before taking a seat opposite Sanji uninvited. From the folds of his robes he pulled out a long-stemmed pipe. “Do you mind?”

“Heh. Course not.”

Jimbe lit his pipe, and for a moment the two of them smoked together in easy silence. Sanji was too preoccupied trying to estimate how many fish they’d need to catch to satisfy the bottomless pit that was Luffy’s stomach to think much of the other man’s presence, and how he could best prepare said hypothetical fish in a way that was nutritious, delicious, and frugal. Not an easy task at the best of times, but add in the chaos that surrounded their most recent adventures, and—

“Is there something I could assist you with, Sanji-kun?”

Sanji looked up, annoyance flickering behind his breastbone. “Huh?”

“Since joining this crew I’ve noticed…” Jimbe paused, choosing his words carefully. “You’ve been putting in long hours. Going to bed late, waking up early, with very little rest in between.” He leaned back in his seat, looking at Sanji intently beneath heavy brows. “And I was wondering, as the newest member of this crew, if there was anything I could do to relieve part of that burden from your shoulders.”

Another beat of expectant silence, and the clock struck twelve at last. Sanji’s mind went unbidden to the fairytales his mother used to tell him as a child, of broken spells and princesses scurrying off to bed. But to a chef, midnight held no special significance. Just another hour in a day that never held enough.

“Is there something I should be doing to make your job as helmsman easier?” Sanji retorted.

The line between Jimbe’s brow furrowed even deeper. “That isn’t even remotely the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” Sanji asked. “Listen, we’ve all got jobs on this ship. I go to bed when mine’s done, same as you.”

“Don’t lecture me, Sanji-kun,” Jimbe said. “I’ve been a pirate longer than you’ve been alive. We both know that your job is never done.”

Exactly , Sanji wanted to say, but took a deep drag from his cigarette instead. Emboldened, Jimbe continued, “Our crew is small, but I can already tell that your duty on this ship is enormous. Almost as enormous as a certain captain’s appetites.”

Sanji shrugged. “I’ve managed.”

Jimbe’s expression faded into worry. “Yes, but that was before…”

“Before what? You joined the crew?”

Jimbe looked down at his hands, but didn’t say a word. Frowning, Sanji doused the last of his cigarette and rose from his seat. Rummaging around, he found a bottle of sake and poured Jimbe a drink.

“Cooking for ten isn’t much different than cooking for nine, even if number ten is a great hulking fishman who needs to keep their strength enough to sumo toss a fucking wave. ”

“It isn’t sumo—”

“Not the point,” Sanji interrupted. “Add some more water to the stock, toss in an extra cup of veggies, and the pot of soup stretches just as far. An extra pinch of yeast and a handful of flour turns one loaf of bread into two. Your presence on this ship isn’t a burden.”

He reached into his breast pocket and lit another cigarette. “Besides, you seem to be under the impression that feeding you lot is simply my duty. Cooking is my life .”

“I…surmised as much at Whole Cake Island,” Jimbe said. He peered down into his sake, mouth twisting into a grimace, and downed the cup in one gulp. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to insult you or your ambition.”

Sanji poured him another. “No offense taken. Besides, I’ve seen you take on enough responsibilities yourself. There’s no point in you fussing over mine as well, you’ll only give yourself an ulcer.”

“Easier said than done.”

Sanji hummed in agreement and thought of the times he’d delivered snacks to Nami, only to find her deep in conversation with their newest crewmate, or how Jimbe would often emerge from the bowels of the ship for meals after spending hours in Franky’s workroom getting a feel for the ship. For the first time, he contemplated what it would be like to relinquish control after spending so much time as a captain.

Sanji didn’t know much about Jimbe’s former crew, but he could guess that it hadn’t been run like the Straw Hat Pirates. No place was, and his heart panged with a previously-unfelt sympathy. Their helmsman was a fish out of water. Literally. And with all the insanity with Emperors and war, there just hadn’t been time to welcome him aboard.

“Hey, Jimbe, what’s your favorite food?” Sanji asked.

“What?”

Sanji smiled around his cigarette and leaned forward on his elbows. “Tell me, what kind of food do you like? Allergies too, if you got any, or stuff you can’t stand. I make it my business to make sure there’s no wasted food on this ship.”

“That’s not—”

“Just answer the damn question,” Sanji said amiably. “If you were promised one last meal on this great blue planet, what would it be?”

Jimbe paused for a moment, considering. His eyes unfocused and he stared out into the mid-distance. A look of remembrance, Sanji thought. Of good times, if his rueful smile was any indication.  

“The men who gathered under Fisher Tiger’s flag were slaves and orphans. Even I, who had been trained in the king’s army, didn’t know how to cook. Not for that many people. We learned. Had to learn. But it was out of necessity, not love. I used to go over the food budget with Fisher to the point of exacerbation.” Jimbe chuckled fondly.

“I remember once the crew being so sick of sea rations we just gave up and sailed to the nearest island. We found some dive by the docks, barely more than a hole in the wall, and at the sight of us the humans all ran. Everyone except the cook. To this day it’s the best meal I’ve ever eaten on the surface, and it was just a bowl of mozuku seaweed and rice.”

“Yeah?” Sanji said, grinning.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Jimbe said, his gaze still contemplative and faraway.

He downed his sake, and waved Sanji off when he moved to refill it. After putting the container away, Sanji said, “I bet that took some getting used to, all those different foods on the surface.”

“The produce is fresher,” Jimbe admitted.

“Less expensive,” Sanji mulled. “I couldn’t believe how much it cost to buy a head of lettuce down on Fishman Island.”

“It all has to be imported,” Jimbe said. “There’s not enough sunlight or space…”

And perhaps it was the alcohol lubricating his tongue, or simply the need to share, but with only a little more prodding Jimbe launched into a rambling tale about the places he’d been and the food he’d eaten there.

His duties as both a Warlord and subordinate of Emperors kept him busy, traveling to places Sanji had never heard of. Sanji cupped his chin in his hand and just listened, for the moment his menu-making forgotten. His imagination sailed the sea of Jimbe’s tale, and he tried to picture the sights and smells, of what it would be like to taste exotic foods in faraway locations, surrounded by beautiful women, and…

And perhaps the women were of Sanji’s own invention, but the longer Jimbe talked the more relaxed he became. Sitting down at the same table, sharing a smoke and a drink, a barrier that had existed between the two since Fishman Island crumbled, when Jimbe had claimed responsibility for Arlong’s rampage and Sanji demanded he take full ownership for the pain that decision for the hurt he’d caused his beloved Nami, however indirectly.

Somewhere in the middle of his tale, Sanji stood once more, almost without thinking, and ambled over to the stove. Still listening, he toasted some bread and cut a few slices of cheese off of one of their few remaining wheels. Sanji presented a plate to Jimbe, and waiting for his helmsman to take a bite, went to prepare a helping for himself.

It wasn’t a peace offering. There was no need for that. But it was food, simply and lovingly prepared. After all, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. It stood to reason that the most romantic of the Straw Hat Pirates would show his acceptance and appreciation by means of midnight snack.  

And by all appearances, it seemed that acceptance and appreciation was reciprocated. The clock struck one before Jimbe bid goodnight. Sanji waved off a stammered apology for losing track of his valuable time, and soon the door to Sanji’s domain, his haven, was shut once more. He smiled, contentment chasing away any negative feeling.

Hearth and home. For as long as Sanji could remember, the two were inextricably connected. Like a magnet, food brought the Straw Hats together, if only for a few precious moments as the chaos that surrounded captain and crew bled one day into the next, seemingly without end.

After glutting himself on Jimbe’s stories, his mind was slow to reel back to itself, and when it did, it settled on memories of his own past. Of meals shared with his dying mother, the taste of broth scorching his tongue after more than eighty days stranded with his true father. The people he’d met and the food he’d prepared while traveling the Grand Line.

For a moment Sanji closed his eyes, drinking in the rhythm of the ship. Back and forth, back and forth.

Back and forth.

Then, stretching, he lit his last cigarette of the day, cleaned his kitchen, and snuffed out the gutted candle, his menu left unfinished. Fatigue was starting to seep down into his very bones, and he’d need a clear head to tackle that particular challenge. He’d catch a few winks, get up early, and figure it out in the morning.

Scratched on top of his list, crowded into the margins in Sanji’s cramped hand, was mozuku seaweed and rice.

[wolveria]

Crucible - Ch 8

Pairing: Link x Reader

Prompt: For the Bittersweet Mini Bang!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, violence, mild body horror, lots of whump, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: The Zora City and its people were far different than your hostile experiences in Tarrey Town.

AO3

It was too early in the evening for the royal dining hall to be open, according to your appointed guard, so you waited in one of the adjoining balconies. He must have pitied you when you pressed into the corner, curled up and looking over the city, because he said something to one of the serving staff, and they returned with a bowl of steaming soup.

You gave the guard a thankful nod and didn’t bother with the spoon, drinking down the thin broth in one fell swoop. The blue Zora just stared at you, leaning on his pike as he did so.

His name was Kayden, and he wasn’t as tall as the prince, but he was just as welcoming. Was that how these people were to strangers? Greeting them with open arms and meals freely given?

Either way, when you caught him staring, the Zora fumbled and stood up straight.

“The prince should be down soon,” he said, manners stiff and business-like. “I’m sure he will bring Master Link with him.”

You didn’t comment at his assurances. You didn’t care where the Champion had gone or who he was spending his time with. You were fine on your own. You were used to being alone since you’d awakened.

You spent the remaining time staring out over the glowing city, impressed despite yourself. There was something about the glittering lights that was soothing and inviting, and when you were called to dinner you were almost sorry to leave.

But the view was soon forgotten as the Zora began to serve the meals. Dish after dish were laid before you, soups and beds of plants and heartier meals. Most of them contained various kinds of fish but recalling the lively green and blue creatures that had danced through the current of the rivers, you couldn’t bear to take a bite. Plus, it smelled… dead. You didn’t have any other word for it, but it was foul, and you stuck to the seaweed and algae dishes. They’d even made a dish entirely of mushrooms that tasted like the sea and didn’t give you a sense of unease as the fish did.

The silver table was large and round, constructed so each diner had a clear view of each other, but you tried your best to hide behind the water pitcher. At least it wasn’t like the crowded buildings you were familiar with in Tarrey Town, stuffy and too loud. The architecture of the Zora structures allowed for the outside air to enter through the open windows. The smell of the pine trees and water was never far, and it was strangely soothing on your nerves.

The prince and the Champion carried on discussions of politics and exploration, things you couldn’t follow but were all too happy to not take part in. You found yourself annoyed at their comradery, their voices, their faces, basically their entire presence. Some part of you knew that was unreasonable, but you felt it, all the same.

When the dinner was over and you were fuller than in your entire life, the prince rose and clapped a hand on the Champion’s shoulder.

“You are weary from your travels, so I will not ask you to stay awake any longer. But tomorrow, I will take you both on a personal tour of the city. It would be my honor.”

“Thank you, Sidon.” The Champion gave his friend an appreciative smile. “That’s very generous of you, and we look forward to it.”

He gave you a questioning look, as if checking to see if you’d argue the point. You didn’t. The prince had been right; you were exhausted, and you simply wanted to crawl under your cloak and go to sleep.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting when it came to your sleeping arrangements, but it hadn’t been this. The prince called it a residential suite, and it certainly looked like an entire house, complete with bedrooms and its own private kitchen, beautifully constructed in the same glittering silvery of the city.

The prince excused himself and wished you both a good night, and after the double silver doors closed with a soft click, you remained frozen in the foyer, as if the tattered and dirty state of your clothing weighed you down too much to move.

Link tried to meet your eye, and when you looked away quickly, he said, “I’ll take the room closest to the doors if you’d like to take the room in the back. It’s the largest and has a beautiful view.”

You stared at the ground long enough to make his smile fade, but still you couldn’t determine what his anterior motive was—not just for the room offer but the entire trip. There was a hidden agenda to all of this, there had to be, and it was only a matter of time until the Champion revealed it.

So, you took the room at the end of the residence, and as soon as you stepped in were overwhelmed in awe at the sheer luxury and decadence. Crystal lights, silver wrought metalwork, glorious stone flooring that looked like the seabed of an ocean, or at least, what you imagined it to be since you had no memory of the ocean past a vague idea.

Finding the washroom where everything was pearl, ivory, and rose gold, you threw off your dirty clothes and drew up a hot bath in the porcelain tub that was roughly shaped like a fish. You scoured your skin and hair, lathering and washing every inch of you until the bubbly water was discolored.

After rinsing off and unplugging the bath, you stepped onto the floor to find it was warm under your feet, not chilly as you expected. The Zora really did anticipate every kind of comfort one could want, and you were still off-balance at the opulence.

Wrapping a peach towel around yourself and using a second towel to dry your hair, you were startled halfway through, catching yourself in the mirror and believing for a moment that the Champion had stumbled in on you. But it was simply your own reflection

You glared at the mirror, scowling at the lines of your nose, the light yellow of your hair and the dark blue of your eyes. So similar to his.

Why? What had you done to deserve this?

The thought was fleeting but left dread in its wake. You didn’t understand where the feeling came from, no more than you understood your inexplicable anger toward the Champion whenever he extended his hand toward you.

You pushed it all aside, determined not to think of him for the rest of the night, which meant dragging your eyes away from the mirror and no longer glaring at it. In hopes of not having to wear your dirty clothes to bed, you were relieved to find the drawers filled with clothing to fit a Hylian. The Zora prince had no doubt prepared for your arrival as soon as you’d stepped into his domain.

You pulled out a gossamer gown that was most likely supposed to be the color of water and instead reminded you of a certain someone’s eyes. Which was a shame: it was a beautiful piece, cool and silky against your skin when you slipped it over your head. Smoothing down the fabric, you lamented the fact you couldn’t take it with you, but you wouldn’t steal again if you could avoid it. Too much attention on you right now as an outsider, but apart from that, the idea of stealing from the Zora was… discomforting.

But being pampered and catered like this, you didn’t know what to do with it. A part of you feared the prince would change his mind, storm into your chambers, and order you thrown into the dungeons. And seeing how the Champion was fonder of his friend than of you, you couldn’t see him intervening as you ended up in yet another dark, forgotten prison.

With a bone-deep shiver, you crawled under the covers. Your worries were immediately forgotten as you clumsily flailed—the bed was moving underneath you.

You sprawled out onto your stomach, preparing for the beast to throw you off, but it had gone still as soon as you had. Experimentally, you pressed your palms down, and the motion of contained liquid rippled away. You carefully rolled onto your back, and the same ocean-like wave rolled under you. You laughed.

You clasped a hand over your mouth. You’d never laughed before. It was… startling. You waited in still silence, afraid someone had heard you. Afraid he had heard you. But all was quiet, and you eventually settled into the wiggly bed.

Expecting to sleep soundly in the soft, weighty blankets, it was disappointing to find yourself staring at the ceiling, too alert to fall asleep. You couldn’t understand it; you’d been resting well the last few nights, even if it had been on the cold hard ground. The fear of someone sneaking up on you in your sleep had been missing for the first time since you’d woken up.

You realized why that was, and you scowled. You were in the middle of a royal palace, in a well-guarded city, and you were safe. You didn’t need the Champion by your side in order to rest.

Tossing off the covers with a huff, you pulled on the velvety light blue slippers next to the bed and tiptoed from your room into the attached kitchen. A quick search of the chilly pantry revealed a prepared dish of some kind of sugar-coated flower petals. You grabbed the entire dish and retreated to one of the large windows, curling up on the sill and looking out over the moonlit landscape. From this angle you were facing east and could see where the city dropped off and the cliffs beyond it rose toward the sky.

You sucked on the candied petals, rolling the sweetness over your tongue as you let your mind wander. You were always at your most calm when you were full, which was probably why you were not calm very often. The first time you could remember your stomach not growling with hunger was the baked apples…

You ground your teeth, mood soured as your mind kept returning to the place you didn’t want it to tread. But where else could it go? You were at his mercy, being taken to a strange castle you didn’t know, and yet, willingly you went. Why?

You stopped gnawing on the candy and sat up straight. There was a figure far below, walking down one of the silver bridges that connected the city to the surrounding plateaus. Squinting and leaning forward, you were certain the dark cloak was familiar.

Waiting until the figure was too far to see, you rushed from your sill and down the wide hall to the closed door of his chambers. You raised a hand, hesitated, and then knocked three times.

There was no response, and when you pushed open the door, the room beyond was empty. The bed covers were crumpled, as if the occupant had been restless for hours before leaving.

You quickly closed the door but remained in front of it, frozen in indecision. Why would the Champion leave in the middle of the night? And why was his destination a massive wall to the east?

Troubled and unsure what to do, you crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up to your ears.

He would be coming back, wouldn’t he? The Champion’s gear had still been in his room, but then, why had he left? Where was he going?

The uneasy questions kept you awake until your opaque windows were tinted pink and the soft footfalls of bare feet padding past your ajar door reached your ears. After his door clicked open and shut, the heaviness of sleep finally pulled you other into restless dreams, all forgotten when you awoke.

Next Chapter

[3fluffies]

Hunger Games Headcanon: The 32nd-40th Hunger Games

Here follow my gap-filling headcanons on every single Hunger Games and victor for my new longfic, Favors. I incorporate canon wherever possible and fill in gaps with the headcanons.

Hope you enjoy!

The First Hunger Games

The 2nd-6th Hunger Games

The 7th-10th Hunger Games

The 11th-16th Hunger Games

The 17th-24th Hunger Games

The 25th Hunger Games

The 26th-31st Hunger Games

The 32nd-40th Hunger Games

The 32nd Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

None

Games Highlights

Setting: Swamp with little dry land besides island holding the Cornucopia.

Trees and cattail-type plants shed vast amounts of pollen and fibers into the air.

Suffocating swamp gases also made the arena very uncomfortable.

Temperatures were uncomfortable warm.

The swamp water could be made safe to drink after substantial filtering and boiling.

The Cornucopia contained substantial survival supplies, climbing and camping equipment, but few conventional weapons other than what could be fashioned from the survival supplies. No food, as food was plentiful in the form of fish and edible plants.

Hazards included piranhas, giant mutt spiders whose venom paralyzed victims before they were woven into a silk sack and drained of blood, and a kudzu-mutt that could grow itself around a sleeping human so thickly that the victim could not escape.

11 tributes died of or were disabled by respiratory ailments from exposure to the gases and inhaling the pollen and cattail fibers.

7 tributes died of or were disabled by infections caused by wounds being exposed to the swamp conditions and/or drinking water not properly filtered and purified.

Victor: Felt Evans, age 16, District 8

Felt was among the few tributes who recognized at the outset that it was necessary to mask his mouth and nose to avoid inhaling the fibers, pollen, and gases directly.

His textile factory in District 8 was situated near a swamp where his entire community foraged for extra food and supplies, so he was familiar with the best ways to move and survive.

He was also adept at climbing trees and camped there, using netting tied to his metal equipment to alert him to wake up if anything encroached.

He threw his final opponent into a school of piranhas and attempted to determine a way to mercy kill her but was unsuccessful.

His victor talent was weaving tapestry.

He was addicted to alcohol and hypnotic sedatives to soothe the trauma of his Games.

As of the 75th Games, he is still alive, age 57, and the current male mentor for District 8.

The 33rd Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

None

Games Highlights

Setting: Artificial, rocky northern coastline with permanent "pea soup" fog so thick visibility rarely rose beyond 10 feet.

Plentiful food from the water and plants, including fish, shellfish, crustaceans, seaweed, birds, and plants.

Temperatures were tolerable by day but dangerously cold and damp by night.

12 tributes died of or were disabled by exposure.

The Cornucopia contained camping and fishing equipment and close-combat weapons.

Fresh water springs fed into the "sea".

Hazards included random massive waves from the "sea" that flooded coastal caves where some tributes sheltered or washed campsites and supplies away, "sirens" - actually giant seal mutts whose call imitated large wading birds tributes liked to eat to lure tributes close enough to attack, swarms of crab mutts that could strip a victim of flesh in two hours, tide pool electric eels, and poisonous plants.

Victor: Billy Merton, age 15, District 6

Billy lived near one of the Great Lakes and was less psychologically impacted by the fog and knew how to forage, fish, and navigate such an environment.

He killed no tributes in direct combat at all, but outlasted and outwitted them all by moving faster, stealthily, and more safely.

His sole offensive involved adding poisonous foods to other tributes' stashes, burning campsites, and in the case of the Career pack, sprinkling bits of fish and bird flesh around their base to gradually surround them with crab mutts and hunting snakes.

He feared being alone after the arena and self-medicated with morphling.

As of the 75th Games, he is still alive, age 57, and the current male mentor of District 6.

The 34th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

This was the first and only time the Gamemakers attempted to facilitate tributes working in teams as allies.

Before the Games, mentors were told tributes had to form 4 teams of 6 with no 2 tributes from the same district on the same team but nothing else.

The pre-Games negotiations and betting that resulted were popular, but the in-Games execution was a disaster for the Gamemakers.

The arena setting also generated complaints among Capitol gamblers that it was clearly meant to favor District 4.

Games Highlights

Setting: 4 large boats on an artificial sea briefly moored to a floating Cornucopia.

Weather was temperate but prone to extreme artificial storms.

The seawater had extremely high salt content so tributes floated, but the only available shelter was found on the 4 boats, the Cornucopia, or (briefly) rock formations submerged twice daily by tides.

The Cornucopia contained water, food, and weapons. Each boat was stocked with oars and equipment to fashion sails.

2 boats capsized during the first storm, forcing the tributes to try to shelter on the floating wreckage.

1 of the 2 remaining boats' teams survived well, but bonded so intensely that the 4 survivors committed mass suicide rather than face having to turn on each other

Victor: Ray Lagarde, age 18, District 4

Ray was an experienced sailor/fisherman on the final surviving boat, whose team began with 3 of the 6 Careers plus 3 more talented tributes.

Ray's crew engaged in infighting and backstabbing from the start, causing him to admire and envy the other crew.

He was ashamed and disgusted by the District 2 male tribute insisting on killing injured crewmates and seeking out stronger survivors from the wrecked boats.

He won by scuttling the boat and drowning his surviving rivals by being able to hold his breath longer underwater.

He lost an eye in the arena and preferred a patch to a replacement, preventing him from being forced into prostitution.

His talent was gourmet cooking.

He was rebellious for the rest of his life and stoked anti-Capitol sentiment in District 4 as a mentor and academy trainer.

He married and raised 4 children, 2 of whom were reaped and killed, only adding to his rage and bitterness.

He has 1 surviving son and 1 surviving daughter.

As of the 75th Games, he is still alive, age 59, widowed and "retired" in District 4 from mentoring and training.

The 35th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

None

Games Highlights

Setting: Desert of sand dunes intersparsed with oases containing the only shelter from the sun or fresh water.

Temperatures were extremely high by day and nearly freezing at night.

Food was extremely scarce, only plants from the oases and some rodents and lizards who inhabited the dunes.

Cornucopia was located on top of a fifty-foot, conical dune, forcing tributes to run up from their launch plates to reach it.

It contained only food and water, forcing tributes to manufacture weapons or fight hand-to-hand.

The Capitol audience considered this one of the "funniest" Games in history because of the tributes' difficulty in navigating the dunes and frequent falls.

17 tributes died or were disabled by dehydration.

Hazards included giant sand worm mutts that could swallow multiple humans, mosquito mutts whose bites caused tributes to scream uncontrollably, and poisonous snakes.

Victor: Venus Fabre, age 18, District 1

Venus had entered District 1's tribute academy at age 9 when it was established after the First Quarter Quell

Her planned talent was singing, but due to having been bitten multiple times by the mosquitos, she did irreparable damage to her voice.

Since one of District 1's principal exports to the Capitol is "entertainers", she was also an accomplished dancer and opted instead for ballet as her victor's talent.

Though 18, she was slender, light on her feet and fast, which helped her navigate the sand more quickly and avoid losing energy and hydration.

She was forced into prostitution like other attractive victors and became the 3rd female victor who played Suadela, Goddess of Temptation in the Garden of Bacchus (Seeder Hines' arena-turned-Capitol-orgy-site from the 30th Games).

From age 26-38, she was exclusively mistress of Marcus Kendy, Minister of the Treasury.

As of the 75th Games, she is still alive, and a tribute trainer, age 58.

The 36th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

This was Coriolanus Snow's last year as a Gamemaker in order to push for greater political power.

He married Valeria Gaul (Volumnia's granddaughter) during the final preparations for the Games and held the celebrations during victory ceremonies. He was 44, she was 26.

Valeria Gaul and Coriolanus Snow spent more than 5 years beforehand preparing this arena themselves based on an unfinished design of Volumnia Gaul’s prior to her death.

This was the first time since the 9th Games that tributes had human contact while in the arena.

However, these Games sparked complaints in the Capitol audience against using drugs in the arena to make tributes have sex or act ridiculous.

The movement was crudely themed, "We want to see them fight, not fuck!"

(This clarified any misapprehension that the audience was at all concerned about the humiliation and torture tributes endured when drugged in the arena.)

Games Highlights

Setting: Hills of scrubby bushland and small rivers, interspersed with 21 empty shacks. Weather was hot and dry.

The Cornucopia contained only a hologram of the arena showing the locations of the shacks.

Prior to launch, the tributes heard a poem written by Volumnia Gaul explaining the shacks.

The primary hazard was daily bushfires, and while the shacks could be sealed to escape it:

The "unlucky 7" would become traps: one filled with heat with each fire, "cooking" the tribute inside slowly, one allowed smoke from the fires to enter and suffocate the occupant, one shrunk until the occupant was crushed, one filled with blister gas, another with lethal mutts, one had spikes randomly shoot out of the walls until the occupant was impaled, and one filled with water.

The "7 heavens" gave the occupants 12 hours of safety, lowering them into luxurious spa-like chambers below. Rendered docile and blissful by an aerosolized drug, their injuries were treated, and they were massaged by attractive attendants of both genders (and received sexual favors if they wanted) and fed all the food and drink they wanted and able to sleep.

Of the other 7, 3 contained supplies or weapons, 3 contained survivable traps, and 1 was the "love shack" that admitted two tributes who had to "fuck or die". Sometimes they were forced to do so sober, other times, one or both were drugged. (Valeria Gaul and Snow were both voyeurs.)

As a vacation spot, this arena was extremely popular, with the death traps exchanged for minor discomforts or challenges and more "love shacks" added.

Victor: Sophia Dillon, age 16, District 9

Sophia was extremely observant and analytical, and figured out that the Gamemakers were choosing which shacks would be the unlucky 7 with each fire based on whims and dislikes.

She was also very well-read.

While not very pretty, she amused the audience (and Gaul and Snow) by coming up with rhymes in response to Gaul's, resulting in an effective banter.

As a result, she found herself in a "heaven" shack 11 times, where she composed little poems about the pleasures of the flesh.

In the arena, she murmured rhymes about the hunt and the fight and was able to work out by the door mechanisms which shack was the "love shack". She entered it 4 times, giving a poem asking for an attractive partner.

Gaul was delighted by her and guided attractive tributes of both genders to her and exposed them to drugs so that they enthusiastically serviced her. She ended each "love shack" visit by killing the other tribute, while composing poems about love, lust, and death.

Snow wanted to kill her in the "oven" unlucky shack so that she would rhyme about her own death (finding her uncomfortably similar to Lucky Gray Baird), but Gaul insisted on sparing her. She referred to Sophia as her "wedding gift".

Her victor's talent was poetry.

She was already becoming addicted to the drugs she was exposed to in the arena and only increased her usage afterward to avoid the horror of what she'd done. She was also a sex addict but couldn't write or perform poetry or have sex while sober.

As long as she was drugged, she was willing to be a Capitol prostitute. Valeria Gaul enjoyed buying her and a partner to have sex while she and Snow watched.

As of the 75th Games, she is still alive, age 55.

The 37th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

None

Games Highlights

Setting: Two environments split by a wide river, spanned by a single bridge.

The Cornucopia was on the opposite side of the river from the tribute launch pads.

The launch-side of the arena seemed barren and less concealed, while the Cornucopia-side was lush.

The Cornucopia contained a variety of supplies and weapons.

Tributes soon discovered the "greener" side was populated by far more mutts and hazards, forcing them to retreat back to the barren side.

9 tributes drowned in the river or were killed by fish mutts, making the bridge the sole means of safely crossing and a regular combat site.

Victor: Celsus Master, age 18, District 2

Celsus won relatively easily, being the biggest, fastest tribute and one of the first to recognize the need to hold the bridge.

He chose tumbling as his talent but surprised audiences by opting to become a Peacekeeper "in service of Panem" while his family lived in the house in District 2's Victor's Village.

Despite being a Peacekeeper, he was still forced into prostitution by the Capitol.

He was very popular in the Capitol as a good example to the districts, and never spoke a word against the Games, even expressing pride when his youngest son was reaped and died in the 63rd Games.

As of the 75th Games, he is still alive, age 56, and a tribute trainer at District 2's academy.

The 38th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

None.

Games Highlights

Setting: A steep mountainside with a variety of environments, woods, grasses, and boulder outcrops.

Temperatures plunged below freezing at night and were chilly during the day. Small waterfalls provided fresh water.

The Cornucopia was situated atop the only flat area and contained only food and gear, no conventional weapons.

The waterfalls collected at the base of the mountainside to form dangerous rapids, and the land above the cloud line was full of mutts waiting to devour any tribute who climbed too high.

17 tributes were killed or disabled by avalanches and/or falls, including 6 who landed in the water and drowned.

Victor: Porter Millicent Trip, Age 17, District 5

Porter worked around hydroelectric plants and was experienced at navigating similar terrain to the arena. Due to her petite figure, she was able nimbler than many other tributes.

In her final battle, she and her opponent suffered a fall into the rapids, in which she sustained a spine injury but was still able to clamber onto some rocks and survive.

As a result, she suffered chronic pain for the rest of her life and became addicted to morphling.

This didn’t spare her from being forced into Capitol prostitution until she was 30.

Her chosen talent was music composition.

As of the 75th Games, she is still alive, age 56.

The 39th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

None

Games Highlights

Setting: An abandoned, gutted concrete building 10 stories high surrounded by fire, each room containing different hazards, each floor accessible by internal and external stairs, ladders, and elevators.

The Cornucopia was on the roof and contained food, water, medical supplies, and weapons.

The ground floor and exterior rooms had the fewest "hazards" apart from being stiflingly hot and causing tributes to become dehydrated the fastest.

Other rooms contained supplies, but some supplies were booby-trapped.

In response to Capitol audience complaints about too many arena traps and not enough fighting, traps and hazards in this arena were aimed at forcing the tributes into combat, such as rooms sealing themselves and requiring the tributes inside to fight for the sole chance at escaping through the door, with the losers falling through the floor into the fire below, or tributes forced to fight for a single dose of poison antidote.

Victor: Antonius “Tony” Stanton, age 18, District 2

By far the most skilled fighter and climber, Tony had a major advantage and won all battles against other tributes.

He suffered severe, painful burns scaling a lower-floor wall, but these were treated and erased by remake.

He was obsessed with fire safety and burn treatment after the Games and channeled his trauma into tribute/peacekeeper/firefighter training, doing long stints in other districts such as 4, 6, and 7 where fire was a frequent hazard.

His tribute talent was the violin, but he achieved special recognition as the first victor to obtain a major degree: medicine, specializing in burn treatment.

A handsome, fit young man, he was forced into prostitution in the Capitol and became a favored gigolo for several Capitol women in succession.

He had rebellious leanings before his Games, and they were solidified by the horror of the sadistic arena.

As of the 75th Games, he is still alive, age 54, and the current male mentor for District 2.

The 40th Hunger Games

Special Events/Policy Changes

Tribute trackers were introduced for the first time after almost 30 years of development.

Wirelessly connected to every camera in the arena, the trackers enabled audience members to follow their favorites throughout the Games and view them through any camera in their line of sight.

Games Highlights

Setting: The "petting zoo", a mock-farm full of animals that tributes had to tame, fight, or slaughter for survival.

Water could be found around the edges of the arena that only the fastest runners could reach on foot, but easily reachable on horseback.

Meat was the primary food source except for a few plants or rations in the Cornucopia, but to avoid Capitol audience distress for the animals, only unattractive breeds were used.

The Cornucopia was at the center of a round paddock disgorged dozens of pigs and goats with supplies and weapons strapped to their backs.

Victor: Taurus Seymour, age 17, District 10

Taurus's victory was overshadowed by accusations of Gamemaker collusion to ensure him the win by tailoring the arena to his strengths, but insufficient proof was found.

His chosen talent was carpentry.

Forced into prostitution, he quickly became an alcoholic.

As of the 75th Games, he is still alive, age 52, and current male mentor for District 10

[secondhand-trash]

Love at First Bite

A/N: we love a man who can cook where can I find myself an osamu (and yes this is an excuse for me to write about food)

Pairing: Miya Osamu x reader

Description: Your story with Miya Osamu began with tears, rain, and really good food.

Word count: 5270

Playlist:

Making Breakfast//Twin Peaks

Sunday Kind of Love//Etta James

Baby I’m Yours//Arctic Monkeys

-

You met Miya Osamu on what felt like the worst day of your life.

“I don’t feel the same about you anymore.”

The words that your boy- no, ex-boyfriend said to you rang in your ear. You could not get it out of your head ever since he uttered those few words in front of you, leaving you dazed and alone on the street as he turned away without even looking back. 

He did not even look back, not even bothering to see the look on your face and hurt in your eyes as the reality sat in.

I don’t feel the same about you anymore.

What the fuck was that even supposed to mean? Your face heated up at the anger that was starting to boil up. It was humiliating how you just stood there and say nothing as he walked away, you could have at least say something smart, or demand an explanation. But instead, you stayed still like a block of wood.

Pathetic, maybe that was why he got tired of you.

It did not work. You tried so hard to shake off the echo in your head of last voice you ever wanted to hear at that moment but the more you tried, the louder it was in the void of your mind. You hated how easy it was for him to walk away and how hard it was on you, you hated how you could barely even think straight as you mindlessly walk along the straight road ahead, taking turns whenever there was one without even having a single thought.

There was a moment when you stared at his figure as he walked away and felt the urge to say something that would make him stay, and that was the worst part of it all.

How sad, how pathetic.

The streets were getting dark and one by one, the shops along the sides dimmed their lights. It was late and you should go home but just the thought of being along made your stomach twisted into knots. 

There would be no one waiting for you when you get back, which you should have gotten used to by now. But being by yourself was one thing, the thought of there being no one you could go to anymore was another.

You had not felt so lonely in a long while, and you weren’t sure how to deal with this foreign hollowness.

You did not want to be surrounded by nothing but four walls. You knew that the voices in your head would be clearer and louder when you were accompanied by nothing but silence. At least when you were out, wandering on the empty streets, you had the eyes of the people walking by to keep you from breaking down completely in fear of the looks you might get, a sad attempt at convincing yourself to stay strong.

But the reality was that the emotions that were boiling up at the depths of your chest were starting to bubble up, and you had never wanted to cry so badly.

You grimaced when you felt the bead of water rolling down your chin, then you realised that it wasn’t you.

It was like the sky could sense your conflict and it decided to cry on your behalf when you were o hellbent that you wouldn’t be vulnerable. It started off as sparse drops of water on your face until the silver strings of water became a downpour. 

You were a mess as you scrambled to find cover, clutching your bag close to your chest as you ran under the rain, barely able to see what was in front of you. Amidst the heavy veil of rain that covered the street, you spotted a distant glow. A warm light from afar, and with your clothes soaked through and your brain tangled by every train of thought that had been bothering you, your feet moved on its own.

You just wanted somewhere you could be, somewhere you could hide for even just a second.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed-”

The man standing by the counter turned around at the sound of the wooden door being slid open. He was holding a cup in hand and a towel in another, clearly in the middle of closing things up. He froze in place when he saw you standing by the door, drenched from top to bottom and your eyes looking down. Your shoulders were drooping down, your lips quivering as your chest rose and fell to the heavy breaths that you were struggling to maintain. You looked like a mess and shame burnt through your face when you realised you were barging into someone getting ready to be finished with their day, unlike you who were just finding a place to escape to.

He paused and stared at you for a while before slowly opening his mouth again, “Welcome, take a seat wherever you like.”

You felt the lump at the back of your throat at this stranger letting you stay even though it was likely that you being there wouldn’t be anything but helpful to his work. Your dignity wanted to say that you wouldn’t want to be a bother and that you would be leaving soon but as the loud crack of thunder made your body shock, you swallowed it down and muttered a soft thank you as you pulled out the tall stool right in front of the bar table.

The crisp sound of rain drops falling onto the ceiling and the occasional thunder filled the empty shop as you sat there. You stared at your crossed hands that were in front of you, your brain completely blank as the wetness of your clothes slowly seeped through. You shuddered at how cold the layers felt, trying to curl up on your seat as a last resort for some warmth. The man, who you assumed to be the owner of this shop, was at the back and you wondered if it was because he took pity at how disheveled you were and decided to give you some space.

You could hear the occasional clank of ceramics and pots from the kitchen. Warm lights, steam that was slipping past the door curtain, the clicks of gas stoves being turned on. It all felt so terribly like home. Not the small apartment that you had to be careful doing anything to in fear of losing your deposit, the one where you could hear the sound of the tv even at the door right as you step in, the one with someone waiting for you to be home, the one where you could smell the sweet scent of rice from the kitchen.

The one where you were not along.

You felt the tear prickling at the corner of your eye and you quickly brought your hand up to press against your forehead, forcing the soreness in your nose to go away. You had been on your own for so long and probably would be for even longer, you could not let your mind wander to places that would crush you down like that. Not now, not when you knew how hard it would hit you.

The click on the table in front of you broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, and your eyes widened as you looked up to see what was placed in front of you.

White streams rose from the black lacquerware, the shine and the patterns on top a sharp contrast to the onigiri placed on the plate by its side. They were rounded, put on a long rectangular plate side by side with a small stripe of nori wrapped around them. You could see each grain of rice clearly, the light made it looked like they were clear enough for you to see through it. You looked into the bowl to see pieces of vegetables and tofu floating in the cloudy liquid, the soft scent of miso filling your senses as you leaned forward.

Tonjiru and onigiri, how long had it been since you had this?

“You need something to warm you up.” the man said with a small smile, brushing the fallen strands of his silver bangs away from his eyes as he turned away from you.

You nodded as you took the bowl from the counter, your lips pursed together into a thin line at the million flavours that were in your heart. You let out a soft sigh at the heat on your finger tips. It had been awfully long since you had anything as homely as this, and your own breath melted in with the steam that was blurring over your vision.

You tasted the warm soup at the tip of your tongue with your first sip, slowly gliding down your throat into your stomach and then the warmth slowly spread across your entire body from your core. The onions were cooked through, melting into the soup and soft against like jelly. slices of potato were nearly mashed up, the sandy texture still permanent in your mouth even after you gulped it down. The pork was cut up into thin pieces, tender and with the flavour of the stock all blended in. You could still taste the vague hints of the stock between your teeth, your breath shaky as you hold the bowl in your hand.

They said life was made up of different flavours, and right now the flavour on the strings of your heart was salty, from the jar of sealed emotions that shattered on the ground at something as simple as a bowl of warm soup made handed to you by a total stranger.

You did not know you were crying until you tasted the saltiness at the corner of your lips, and you lifted the bowl to your mouth before the sobs could even leak out.

You gulped down the soup, despite how you felt like you were having trouble trying to breathe with the ache at the back of your throat. The man had his back towards you, continuing with cleaning up the many dishes piled up as you cried at the far corner away from him. He had never met you and in his head, you were probably just another annoying customer who took up the time he could have had to himself by being a sobbing mess in his shop, but there was a silent gentleness in the way he didn’t flinch or budge even once as your sobs slowly erupted in a bawl, like you were not there at all, like the fact you were there was just another part of his routine.

You had calmed down a little when you saw the bottom of the bowl, your cries now turned into broken whimpers. You took a small bite into the onigiri and smiled amidst your tears at the sweetness from the grain and the hints of vinegar that expanded in your mouth. There was no filling within, but just the taste of rice was enough to make you feel the purest form of joy. The sound it made when you bit down on the seaweed was nothing less than satisfying and as you felt the crunch between your teeth, the tears rolling down you face and making your chest ache stopped. 

The man’s hands slowed down as you stopped crying but he waited for a moment before turning around like he wanted to make sure that he would not interrupt you at a moment of vulnerability. 

“How much is it?” you asked. Your voice coming out much weaker than you wanted it to be, like you were out of breath and with a strong nasal from your earlier sobs. 

“It’s on the house.” the man said and he couldn’t hide the slight amusement behind his eyes as you visibly panicked.

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I can’t charge you for something that isn’t on par with our usual quality,” he said, pushing your hand that was holding your wallet away softly. You wanted to argue that it was the nicest meal that you’ve had in a while but he stopped you before you could even speak, “so please.”

You stared at him. His eyes were fixed on you, not once wavering during this exchange. You sighed, knowing that there was no way he would back down, and a sly grin found its way to his lips.

You thanked the owner again and again before you walked out the door. With a soft swish, you were alone on the street again but somehow you didn’t feel all too bothered by that.

The rain had stopped.

Taking a deep breath, you could smell the distinct smell of rain lingering in the air. Walking away, you took one look at the shop before you left. The door curtain hanging on the upper half of the door was flowing with the wind, the symbol of the shop printed on in white.

“Onigiri Miya”.

-

Onigiri Miya.

You looked up from your phone to the front of the shop and then back at your phone. 

You had deliberately put off coming again after last time for a couple of days, even though there wasn’t a moment when it wasn’t in your mind. Somehow, you were paranoid about if you actually had the face to show up again after the owner had practically seen you at your lowest point. It was embarrassing to be remembered as the person who barged in late at night and cried on someone’s bar table.

And it most definitely didn’t help that even with tears in your eyes and you practically struggling to breathe properly, you still clearly remembered that the owner was likely your age and very attractive.

Maybe you should just leave. Your legs planted firmly on the ground as you thought of everything that could happen if you go in there. But really, you should go in as a proper customer at least for once after the owner practically treated you to a free meal. You gulped at the reminiscence of the warm soup that washed down your system and the crunchiness of the nori, you could feel your stomach rumbling just at the thought of it. How was it that such simple food had such an impact on you that you couldn’t stop thinking about it? 

You would just go in there, eat your food, actually pay this time around and leave. What was the worst that could happen?  

But on a second thought, did you really want to go back in there? Did you really-

“Sorry to interrupt whatever deep thought you might be having,” you jumped at the voice from behind you and was shocked to see that it was the owner standing behind you. 

Wait, no, this wasn’t him. 

“But are you going inside?” the man pointed at the sliding door of the entrance.

“Yeah,” you blurted out and went to grab the door like it was exactly what you were about to do anyways, groaning inside at how your earlier conflict was all for nothing, “yeah, of course.”

“Irassha-” the man behind the counter, the actual owner, looked up as the door was slide open, “ara?”

“Samu...” the man brushed past you as he sat right at the center of the bar table but the owner didn’t look away from you and nodded in greeting which you immediately reciprocated, your eyes glancing between the two subtly. Seeing them side-by-side, you could now see that while their facial features were near identical, the two men had deliberately styled their hair differently and dyed them a different colour. The blond laid on the wooden table the moment he sat down, rambling on about how “people nowadays didn’t know what a good joke was anymore”. 

You gingerly picked the seat that was the furthest away from him, carefully pulling the stool and had your back straight as you looked around the store. You were too deep in thought that you didn’t even pay much attention to your surroundings the last time you were here. There was nothing fancy about the humble interior, the earthy tones of the wooden structure of the building and the warm lights that were used a very good compliment to the food it served. Down to earth and simple, but sometimes it was the simplicity that draws out the best flavour.

“What can I get you?”

Your back tensed up at the sudden attention that was put on you. The owner of the shop stood in front of you with his arms crossed and you tried your hardest to save yourself the embarrassment that your eyes immediately picked up on the way his biceps flexed under the black t-shirt that fit his form perfectly. You had already broken down in front of this man, the last thing you would want is for him to notice that you were subtly not-so-subtly checking him out.

“Oh,” you snapped out of your trance, your nerves returning as you felt him waiting for you to say something. “um...”

Leaning back, you looked around at the many items that were written on thin wooden boards hung right above the counter. Salmon roe, tuna with scallion, marinated plum, stewed pork... the list went on and on, and that was only for the onigiri. How were you supposed to make a decision when there were so many to choose from? 

Miya Osamu felt a foreign swell in his chest as your eyes racked over the menu. Your tongue slightly poking out as you were lost in your thoughts and it was like he could see you debating with yourself as your glance jumped back and forth. He did not get to talk to you when you first walked in but he immediately remembered you as the one who came in that night with the particularly heavy rain. Even as his twin’s blabbering held a tight grip on his attention, he could not help himself but stealing glances at your direction. He could see the way you sat with your back straight and your shoulders stiffed at the corner of his eye but right now, the previous density was all gone.

He would have to admit that he had been wondering if you would come back after your initial encounter. He was not keen on acknowledging that he had been waiting for you to show up again even though judging by the look on your face as you took that first bite, he was almost certain you would.

You were still not able to decide on what you want which normally would be quite an annoyance (especially if it was Atsumu being indecisive because seriously dude, why are you being conflicted? You would get the exact same thing in the end anyways) but he just found how serious you were to be oddly endearing. He was tempted to tease you a little, to see you flustered and panic a little but bite his tongue at the potential of you tensing up again.

“Do you want to try a new product?” and there it was, the subtle glint of excitement in your eyes that you immediately tried to hide, “It’s not out on the menu yet and I’ve been hoping to find someone to try it out.”

The blonde at the other side perked up, his cheeks puffed out as he chewed on the onigiri he had in hand. His voice was muffled as he spoke, “Wait, samu-”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” the owner snapped around before turning back to you with a smile, ignoring the look of discontent on his brother’s face. “So?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you were quick to nod, smelling the lingering smell of gunpowder in the air, “sure.”

The owner hummed and went to the back of the kitchen. You shuddered when you suddenly met the gaze of the man sitting opposite to you. Were you roped into some sort weird sibling rivalry? You wanted to look away but didn’t have the guts as he stared at you. His eyes pursed into thin lines as he chewed slowly before glancing at the kitchen and then back to you. His eyebrows quirked up as his eyes widened, his lips curling up like he had gotten something figured out. You let out a heavy breath as he finally turned his eyes back to his meal.

Ok, what was that supposed to mean?

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

You gleamed at the plate that was placed in front of you. Unlike the small rice balls from last time, this one was nearly the size of your fist and you could feel your mouth watering just at the smell of freshly cooked rice. 

Clasping your hands together and giving a quick nod, you picked it up and took a bite. You could not stop yourself from humming in delight when you bite straight into the filling, the flavour immediately filling your cavity. The distinct taste of toro hit you in full force, but the fishiness was not too overwhelming as the saltiness from the soy sauce balanced it out. The tuna was well marinated with the sauce soaking through each piece, small dots of roasted sesame seeds making it look extra enticing. You could taste the hint of sesame oil that followed as the fish melted on your tongue, the mix of flavours still left between your teeth after you swallowed. The sauce seeped into the rice surrounding the filling and you could taste the careful balance of saltiness and the aftertaste of the vinegar with each bite. 

Everything was just right, not one flavour outshining the other.

“How is it?” Osamu asked and chuckled as you frantically nodded.

He liked eating, but watching other people eat was a whole other kind of enjoyment.

He watched as you licked away the drop of sauce at the corner of your lips before taking a large gulp of the warm cup of tea in front of you, letting out a satisfied sigh as you held the rim of the cup by your lips.

“It’s so good,” you said, your voice muffled as you pressed the tissue against your mouth, “it’s marinated tuna right?”

You could see the blonde’s behind the owner shook when you mentioned the word “tuna”.

Osamu nodded, his chest puffing out in pride. “Tuna toro marinated in special soy sauce overnight.”

“You had something with a toro filling but you-”

Osamu turned around to give his twin a sharp glare, and Atsumu muttered about how this was the utter betrayal.

“It’s gonna be a hit if you put it on the menu,” you dipped your hand in your bag to search for your wallet, “how much is it?”

“Well, I can’t charge you for something that isn’t actually on sell.”

Your eyes widened. No, you were not going to let him give you free food again. “But-”

“Just get more food when you come back next time,” he said nonchalantly like it made total sense, taking the empty plate in hand and didn’t allow you the time the object, “ok, and that’s settled.”

You wanted to argue that it was not settled, but he didn’t look back as he disappeared into the kitchen again. 

Atsumu looked between his brother and you as you thanked him once again for the meal before leaving. He tilted his head as he watched Osamu smiled at the door even after you were gone. He looked at his twin, and then back at the door, tilting his head as he recalled your exchange earlier.

Next time? Next time???

Atsumu smirked, “You sly, sly bastard.”

“Shut up, tsumu.”

-

“Irasshaimase-” Osamu said, a small smirk gracing his features as he spotted that it was you pushing the door open, “arara?”

“I came to get my daily fix of Onigiri Miya onigiri.” you said in a sing song voice, plopping on your regular seat at the corner of the bar table. The store was bustling with people but somehow, the seat at the corner was always empty when you arrive no matter how many people there was. You greeted several of the other regulars that you recognised, leaning your chin on your palm as Osamu put down the cup of tea in front of you.

“What do you want today?”

“Hm... I don’t know...” your brows furrowed together. No matter how many times you had come here, there was still no way that you could decide on what to get at the spot. It felt like you were missing out on something no matter what you settled on. “What is the owner recommending today?”

Osamu laughed and you couldn’t help but grin. You weren’t sure if it was that he got you so hooked on his cooking that you were mistaking it as attachment or was it genuine attraction, but there was no denying that part of the reason you came back was for the young owner who managed to make the simplest of food tasted like something fit for a king.

“I think I have just the thing for you.” he said, filled with confidence as he turned around.

“Are you not going to tell me what it is?” you leaned forward as you yelled, snorting in amusement as a distant “nope” passed through your ears from behind the curtain. 

You closed your heads, tilting your head as you listened to the soft sound of ceramics clinking, the ticking of the stove and the sound of water boiling. This was nice, you thought to yourself, like home.

“There you go.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw what he put in front of you, attracting the stare of several other customers but you didn’t care. Your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was as you took the black lacquerware in hand, humming as you smelt the delicious scent of miso with the stream.

“You are not reminding me of very happy times here,” you pretended to glare at him, your eyebrows quirking up as you sent him a look of judgment but your features softened when you took a sip of the soup. Same old taste, still brought the exact amount of warmth to your heart. Looking back, you were glad that things happened the way it was. There was no more pain left inside your heart when you were reminded of that night, only the simple gratitude that everything turned out alright.

You were doing better now than you were before, and with something to look forward to whenever you walked past the wooden doors that you now know so well.

You finished the soup in gulps, letting out a satisfied sigh as you closed your eyes to take in the flavour. 

It was a good thing that you had your eyes closed, or else Osamu couldn’t stare at you as shamelessly as he was. The way you hold each dish in hand and took each bite with so much joy never failed to give him a rush. 

Osamu liked eating, and he liked watching people eat too but nothing could compare to the thrill he felt when it was you munching down on his cooking like you had been starving until you came to him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love everything you make,” you said, wiping the corner of your lips with your thumb as you took a bite at the plain onigiri, “but I can never get tired of this.”

“I can keep making it for you," he blurted out. You looked up, watching as his eyes widened when he realised what exactly he just said, “if you want...”

And there it was, the same feeling that he felt when you first came into this place drenched from head to toe and your eyes swollen. The same ache at the back of his throat and the weight in his chest that gave him the impulse that he had to cook you something, that he had to make sure you left this place with no more tears in your eyes. 

You smiled, and at that moment he was certain that if it meant he could see that every day, then he wouldn’t mind cooking for you for the rest of his life.

“Of course.”

-

The sharp buzz of your alarm rudely interrupted you from your sleep and you groaned as you rolled to your side.

The other end of the mattress was empty, as always. You laid on the bed, facing the ceiling as you struggle to keep your eyes open. God, you pressed your palm to your forehead, why couldn’t you just spare me five more minutes?

It was the sweet smell floating down the corridor into your nostrils that gave you the motivation to stay awake. You sighed as your stomach rumbled, pushing the blanket off of you as you sat up straight against the back board.

Pulling the first shirt you could find on the floor, you yawned as the black t-shirt that was far too big for you draped over your body. You rubbed your eyes as you made your way down to the kitchen, the sizzling getting louder and louder as you got close.

You leaned on the frame of the door, smiling as you watched your boyfriend stirring at the frying pan with a pair of long chopsticks and the other hand at his waist. You had a deep appreciation for him at all times, but you always swoon for Miya Osamu the hardest when he was in the small kitchen of your apartment.

How could you not fall in love again and again with a man who wakes up early every morning to make breakfast for you?

His back tensed up when he felt you wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and you leaned your face against him pressing a small kiss at the blade of his shoulder. You chuckled as he relaxed again, feeling each flex of his body as you silently admired his built.

“Morning, samu.”

“Morning,” his hand didn’t stop, curling the egg in the long rectangular pan up until it was a nicely formed roll, “breakfast will be ready soon, can you get the bowls out?” 

You hummed, your hands lingering just a little as you let go of him. You took a whiff of the steam as the lid of the rice cooker sprung up, taking the rice spoon in hand and give it a quick fold before filling the bowls up.

Sitting down in front of the table, you leaned back to stare at Osamu who was still busying himself in the kitchen. He was always so concentrated when he cooks, his brows pressed together and lips pursed. The scent of food filled the air as you waited for him at the table, the sound of morning news playing in the background.

Home was knowing that each dish on the table was cooked by someone that has you in their mind and to the person who did the cooking, that no matter what you bring out, there was someone waiting for you by the table.

You looked at the plates lined up on the table with a smile on your face. Today’s breakfast was rice with miso soup, tamagoyaki, pan-fried salmon and salad made with last night’s leftovers. 

“So,” Osamu took his chopsticks in hand after sitting down in front of you and you did the same. 

It was not about what you were eating, it was about who you were eating with.

You grinned as your voices overlapped.

“Itadakimasu.”

[airashisakura]

DAY 2- Cooking/ "I didn't know you have that habit"

Sakura hummed a tune softly as she scooped a dollop of sticky rice from a ceramic bowl. Her humming got a little louder when the favourite part of the song followed as she started moulding the rice in her hands. For a moment, she paused to decide which of the fillings she would put now — umeboshi for her or tomatoes for Sasuke. She counted the onigiris on the plate that she had already made. She decided on the sliced tomatoes and shaped the rice ball in a perfect triangle shape. 

The feeling of Sasuke sitting right behind her on the dining table was still new to her. Imagining Sasuke’s eyes on her back was enough to make her heart flutter. Her younger self would definitely have danced in victory at the very thought, but this Haruno Sakura wouldn’t. She blushed at the thought as she picked a neatly cut piece of nori seaweed and wrapped it around the base of the onigiri. She felt a little embarrassed when she realized Sasuke sitting behind her also meant he’d been listening to her off-tune humming. 

Sakura cleared her throat to shake off her embarrassment as she sprinkled some sesame seeds on the onigiri. Satisfied with her hard work, she was proud to give each of her onigiris a perfect triangle shape. Maybe mother would be proud of me now, she boasted herself as she giggled.

Then again, she realized that she wasn’t living alone anymore. Sasuke had been spending most of his time at her home in between his missions. Sakura had been trying her best to cover up her weird habits around Sasuke. Although she cared less about impressing Sasuke now, she had to admit that a childish part still wanted his approval. 

She turned her head carefully to peek at Sasuke, secretly hoping that their eyes would meet for a fraction of a second before Sasuke would avert his eyes. The idea of embarrassing Sasuke tempted her until she realized Sasuke had been dozing. 

Unsure whether she was thankful that Sasuke hadn’t heard her singing, or disappointed to find he hadn’t been staring, she called Sasuke, waking him up.

“Lunch is ready,” Sakura announced as she placed two bowls of miso soup on the table. 

 It had become a frequent routine to cook and share a meal together, unless Naruto dragged Sasuke or both of them for ramen. 

Sasuke nodded and got up to help her set the dishes. Sakura brought the other food one plate at a time. It was not the first time Sakura had cooked something for him, but she was excited today. She placed the tomato filled onigiris on his plate before Sasuke could pick one. She had made sure to pick up the best tomatoes available at the grocery store when she returned yesterday from her work. 

“Itadakimasu,” they both said in unison before the silence fell between them.

Sakura didn’t miss the subtle pleasure in Sasuke’s face when he tasted the tomatoes inside his onigiris. Sakura sipped her soup to suppress the grin forming on her lips. With a satisfied sigh, she picked up her onigiri and took a bite.

Sasuke couldn't help but notice she kept her left hand cupped under the onigiri she was eating to catch the falling morsels.

Sasuke had noticed this first in their genin days but had never mentioned it to her. During his childhood, his mother had nagged him about perfect table manners, he remembered, and he had always tried to abide by them. He had always disliked Naruto's non-stop talking while eating. He could still ignore Naruto, but he couldn’t tolerate Sakura's habit of using a hand to catch falling food.

"My mother always said that's a bad habit," Sasuke spoke straightly.

Sakura stuffed her mouth, unsure of what he meant, her left hand involuntarily moving.

When Sasuke eyed her left hand, Sakura understood what he was implying.

"Sorry." Sakura smiled sheepishly, her face flushing instantly.

Shannaroo, I messed up! 

Sakura used all her will not to move her left hand as she gobbled the last bite of onigiri.

"I didn't know you had that habit," Sasuke said again, this time his tone was a little softer.

Her younger self would have been too busy sulking at Sasuke’s criticism that she wouldn’t have noticed Sasuke’s change in voice. 

“My mother did as well,” Sasuke said with a sad smile on his face.  

Although she wasn’t sure about which habit he was talking about, a warm feeling rose in her chest. She didn’t know much about his mother, but she hoped Sasuke would eventually tell her more about his family.

For now, she looked towards him with a soft gaze, hoping Sasuke might continue.

“Mother often sang when she cooked,” Sasuke said.

Sakura’s gaze grew softer. Soon her green eyes were met by Sasuke’s onyx, just like she had wanted some moments ago. She was at a loss of words and could only manage to ask, “So you listened? I thought you didn’t.” 

“Aah,” Sasuke chuckled. Sakura wasn’t like his mother by any means, but they did ‌share a trivial habit. A small happiness crept inside him to acknowledge that old memories did not always bring back pain. Sometimes they promised relief too.

~ @sasusakublankperiodweek

[sukkasupremacy]

Marry Me? Sukka Week

“Gran Gran?” Suki was in the igloo with Gran Gran learning how to make traditional water tribe food.

“Yes sweetheart what is it?” Gran Gran replied as she ripped some seaweed noodles apart.

“Can I ask you something.” Suki nervously fiddled with something in her coat pocket.

“Of course sweetheart. What is it?” Gran Gran put the seaweed noodles in the pot of boiling water. Suki stepped closer to her go watch what seasonings she put in the soup. The steam from the pot warmed Suki’s reddened face. She loved being in the South Pole with Sokka but the cold was almost unbearable for her tropical body.

“Do you think Sokka would want to marry me?”

Gran Gran jumped and looked at her grandson’s auburn haired warrior girlfriend. She took Suki’s face in her palms, “ Why of course he would!” Gran Gran was overcome with joy.

“But when is the question? I’ve been by his side since forever. We’re almost 20 now...”

Suki stirred the pot as Gran Gran added the seasonings. The igloo filled with scrumptious aromas. As she stirred the pot, Suki couldn’t help but reminisce on when she realized he was it.

They were on a team Avatar vacation in Ember Island. The war had just ended and life was good.

“SUKI!”

“Yes Sokka?”

“Look what I made you!” He gave her that goofy-lopsided smile that she adored and held up a vibrant lei.

“Do you like it?”

Suki was grinning from ear to ear. His gesture touched her deeply.

“Sokka... I love it!” She threw her arms around him and nestled her face into his bare shoulder. She took in his salty beach scent and sighed.

What did I ever do to deserve you?

Sokka brushed her auburn locks away from her face and put the lei around her neck. He took a step back to examine his girlfriend.

Suki gazed at him adoringly. His face was so concentrated and serious she had to giggle.

“What?” His voice squeaked which caused her to to giggle even more.

“You are just too cute. She leaned toward him and locked her lips onto his. He picked her up and spun her around. They laughed and danced the rest of the evening without a care in the world. The stars and waves seemed to dance with them and go Suki the world was in harmony

Suki smiled at the happy memory. Gran Gran looked up at her and smiled.

“Are you thinking of him?”

“Yeah,”Suki sighed, “I’m just...I don’t wanna wait anymore. I wanna spend my whole life with him by my side. I never wanna say goodbye ever again.”

“My dear, “ she put her hand on the young warriors shoulder, “I think if you asked him to marry you he would say yes.” She smiled.

“I thought the water tribe had a tradition of the male asking the girl?”

Gran Gran chuckled and added the fish into the soup, “Suki. Suki.Suki. You of all girls should know that some traditions are meant to be broken!”

Suki was taken aback, “I thought you out of all people would love to stick to the tradition.”

Gran Gran chuckled some more, “Suki, my dear, there’s a lot that you don’t know about me. I myself was an emblem of breaking traditions back in my day.”

Suki looked at the old women curiously, “What did you do?”

“I ran away from a sexist man in the water tribe. I left him because I didn’t love him! We did arranged marriage up there. I came here and found myself.”

Suki was in awe, “Wow, you are so brave.”

Gran Gran took the boiling pot off the fire and set her brittle hand on Suki’s cheek, “And you my dear are even braver.”

————————————————-

After dinner, Sokka went to his dad’s igloo to ask for some advice.

“Hey dad!” The young water tribe boy hit his shoes on the door Gran to get all the snow off.

“Hello son! What brings you here?”

“I need to ask you for advice. It’s about Suki.”

Hakoda’s eyes widened and he gestured for his beloved son to sit by the fire with him, “What’s on your mind Sokka?”

“When did you realize you loved mom?”

Hakoda sighed, “I have loved your mother since we were teenagers, “ smiled remembering his late wife, “ I have always known that I loved her. Every second with your mother was like a dream that I didn’t want to wake up from. The moment I realized I wanted to spend my life with her was when we were about 18 years old. The fire nation attacked our tribe. The first thing I thought of was her. Where she was. If she was safe.”

“Wow dad.” Sokka rested his hand on his father’s shoulder.

“What about you son. When did you realized you were in love with Suki.”

Sokka thought for a moment. “I have always loved her.”

“But when did you realize that she was it for you.”

Sokka closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Then he remembered.

It was a cold winter’s night about two years ago. The snow began to fall in the South Pole.

Suki’s eyes lit up. She ran ahead of Sokka, her auburn hair flowing behind her. She twirled around herself as the snow thickened around her. Her laugh filled the evening with music. Her smile lit up the dark winter of the South Pole.

Sokka was mesmerized by her aura. This girl brought light wherever she went. She brought light into his world. She found joy in things as little as snow. Sokka stared at his beautiful girl friend with stars in his eyes.

“Sokka! It’s snowing!” She shrieked as she fell into the power beneath her. She started to play in it and Sokka laughed.

“Sokka! Come on.” She flashed a smile at him and his heart skipped a beat.

The auburn hair warrior got up and pounced on her boyfriend causing both of them to collapse into the snow. She giggled and brushed his chocolate brown hair away from his face. Sokka looked up at her. Her cheeks and nose were as red as a cherry. It was as if she had been kissed by the snow. Her hair was messy and damp but it still fell in the right places. Her violet eyes shined and pierced their way into Sokka’s loving gaze.

“Hi!” She smiled and nuzzled her nose on his. His stomach clenched and his heart fluttered.

Was this even real? How is she real?

Later that night, Sokka watched her go to sleep. She looked precious wrapped up in those fluffy water tribe blankets and in Sokka’s arm. He watched her body gently rise and fall.

How are you real?

He stroked her hair and she shifted even closer to him. Her arms made their way around Sokka and she cuddled into him.

“I love you.” Sokka’s heart jumped.

Did she just say that?

It was at that moment that he realized she was it.

————————————————

Suki laid on Sokka’s chest and listened to the sound of his heart beat. The fire crackled and filled the room with warmth.

“Sokka?”

“Yes Suki?”

“Can we take a walk? I want to ask you something.”

“I would love that.”

The two warriors rose from their shared bed and put on their winter coats. Suki fiddled with the item in her pocket.

The two of them walked for about an hour, sharing their thoughts, listening to each other, gazing into each other’s eyes, and stealing kisses. It was nights like these that Suki treasured. The world being silent was her favorite thing about being in the South Pole. Well, almost her favorite. Sokka beat the silence.

“I then I was like...WHOOO NOOO.” Sokka flailed his arms in the air. She covered her mouth with her mittened hand.

The two of them stopped at the end of a cliff. The sky was beautiful that night. Lights of blue, green, and purple painted the sky. Suki gazed at it in awe.

“Wow...” she sighed.

Sokka glances over at his girlfriend. She was wrapped in warm clothes from head to toe. You could only see her face. Suki’s eyes fluttered as she gazed at the lights in the sky.

“Hey Suki.”

“Yes Sokka?”

“You know what the best view in the Southern Water tribe is right now?”

“There can’t be anything more beautiful than this Sokka.”

“It’s you!” He blurted. Suki turned her frost bitten face toward him. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red.

She ran to him and jumped. Her legs around his torso and her arms did the same around his neck. He steadied her and brought his forehead to hers. She smiled at him and he kissed her sweetly.

“I love you Sokka.” She beamed.

“I love you too Suki.”

She hopped back down. Her face grew small.

“Sokka? I need to ask you something.”

Sokka’s brows knit together. He cocked his head to the side, “What is it Suki?”

The young warrior reached her hand into her coat pocket. When her hand came out she revealed a necklace. It wasn’t just any old necklace, it was a betrothal necklace. On the pendent was carved the joining of a fan and sword.

Sokka covered his mouth. She smiled at him with tears daring to spill out of her eyes.

“Suki...”

“Sokka.... will you be mine forever?” The tears streamed down her beautiful face.

Sokka’s face softened and tears began to spill out of his eyes. He took her hands, “Yes Suki. I will be yours forever.” He began to kiss her all over her face which caused her to snort. She pulled him in for a kiss. Suki lost her footing and stumbled down into the fresh powder bring Sokka down with her.

Sokka gazed into her violet eyes. Just like the lights in the sky, they were beautiful and painted his life with color.

@sukkaweek

[lnarizakis]

thanks for the food! | m. osamu

masterlist | cards against humanity x haikyuu!!

pairing: miya osamu x gen!reader

foreword: this took so long for me to get out omg but i hope you enjoy!! 💕

look out for: manga spoilers

“sorry for staring, mister. it’s just that i ain’t ever seen ___ before.” + “soup that is too hot.”

“You know, you should really eat something other than cold take out and cup ramen.”

(Y/N)’s roommate Chiba Sumiko sighed, resting a hand on her forehead. She watched (Y/N) sitting at their small kitchen table, currently chowing down on a half-empty box of take out from last night’s dinner. Disappointment washed over her as they let crumbs fall from the corners of their mouth.

“But you know I’m broke—“ (Y/N), with food still lodged in their cheeks, started. As the words left their mouth, they knew what Sumiko—who had a part-time job—would counter.

“Let me treat you. No, I will treat you,” Sumiko decided, sitting down next to (Y/N). The scenario was similar to a father sitting his son down for “The Talk.” Though, in this case, it was Sumiko lecturing (Y/N) that as a college student they should take better care of their health. This included eating a proper meal; eating only take out and cup ramen was definitely not beneficial to her health. As someone studying health and nutrition, they should know better.

And so Sumiko and her boyfriend planned a date, with (Y/N) unfortunately tagging along as a third-wheel. They decided on Onigiri Miya, a tiny restaurant near their campus. It was a quaint little restaurant, and the owner had just recently released their new line of ramen soups. It had been very well-received by the general public, at least the ones who had come in to try it out. Based on those reviews and the fact that they had never eaten there before (Sumiko claimed they had to “expand their horizons,” whatever that meant), the three decided that that was the perfect place to have lunch tomorrow (specifically, at 3).

—

The next day, (Y/N) arrived at the restaurant a little bit later than the couple, not wanting to be the first person to arrive. As they entered the restaurant, the aroma of ramen broth, vegetables, and rice flowed into their nose; the overall atmosphere just felt warm. It was a homely environment, one that (Y/N) would want to visit time and time again. Small talk filled the air, and the one person behind the counter, currently brewing new broth for any incoming customers, casually talked with the patrons that sat around the table. (Y/N) could hear the faint sound of the television sitting in the corner of the restaurant, playing a rerun of a two-year-old volleyball game.

“Ah, welcome in,” the restaurant owner called out to the three, a faint smile on his face. He was, for lack of a better word, extremely hot. (Y/N) could feel a slight blush painting their cheeks, and that most likely wasn’t because of the warm air of the hot food that filled the room.

(Y/N) sat down at the counter along with Sumiko, who had suggested they do so, and her boyfriend. From behind the counter, the man rolled up his sleeves and crossed his arms, handing (Y/N) three plastic menus, which they were to pass along sideways.

Promptly, he said, “Just let me know when you guys are ready to order.” The man pushed a small bell towards them, wordlessly telling them to signal him when they were ready. He turned back to the broth on the stove, also tending to the noodles in a pot beside the broth. He sighed contently— this was the life. He could have never pictured himself playing volleyball beside his brother, who was currently on the television screen, silencing the jeering crowd.

(Y/N)’s eyes scrolled through the menu. What were they to order? There was an array of onigiri to choose from; after all, she was in an onigiri restaurant. However, their eyes drew themselves towards the listing of newly released ramen labels. Why not stick to something they were used to eating?

“(Y/N)-chan, what are you going to have? I’m gonna get the spicy salmon onigiri. The ‘lil picture they have for it on the menu makes it look so good,” Sumiko said. Her words caught the attention of the restaurant owner, stirring the broth absentmindedly, letting out a chuckle. Being the kind partner he was, Sumiko’s boyfriend was content with having her leftovers.

“I think I’ll have the tonkotsu ramen,” (Y/N) stated, still scanning through the menu, making sure there wasn’t something that caught their eye even more than the ramen did. Luckily, there wasn’t, however, so they folded the menu back up and placed it atop the other two menus that Sumiko and her boyfriend had finished using.

Sumiko lightly tapped the bell, and the man behind the counter promptly turned around to collect the menus and finalize what they were going to have.

“I’ll have the spicy salmon onigiri and,” Sumiko pointed to (Y/N), “they’ll have the tonkotsu ramen.” The man nodded.

“Ah, yes. Those are good choices. I know so because I‘m gonna cook ‘em,” the man flatly said, earning a laugh out of the three customers. He set the menus away and began to work on their orders.

—

“Your salmon onigiri,” he said, after some fifteen minutes later. Four onigiri stood proudly on the plate he was holding side-by-side, just waiting to be eaten. The rice was still steaming. He presented the plate to Sumiko and her boyfriend, with an astonished gasp at its delicious appearance. Onigiri Miya was renowned for their aesthetically pleasing food designs.

“Your tonkotsu ramen.” The man then presented the bowl of ramen towards (Y/N), pushing it towards them. The hot steam of it rose up into their face, warming it up. (Y/N) breathed in the aroma of the soup, taking in everything all at once; looking down at it, the soup itself was presented oh-so perfectly, from the cut hard-boiled egg to the seaweed stacked atop each other along the side of the bowl, slowly mixing in with the broth. (Y/N) was practically mesmerized— they hadn’t seen anything like it since... they don’t remember when.

After some time, the man asked with concern, “You good there? You’re starin’ off into the abyss of the bowl.”

“S-Sorry for staring, mister. It’s just that I ain’t ever seen soup that is too hot before,” (Y/N) stuttered. Well, of course they had seen soup that is hot before. They mentally face-palmed themself. To their surprise, however, he laughed. Resting his (notably muscular) arms on the counter some distance away from where (Y/N) had set their phone down to eat, he had his full attention on (Y/N), smiling at them.

“That’s not what I meant. Y’see, I’ve been a little... not eatin’ properly. Simply put,” (Y/N) corrected themself. Taking the chopsticks into their hand, they began eating, looking down in embarrassment.

“Nah, I get it. My brother’s like that. Or, well, he was, in high school,” the man said. “His name’s Atsumu,” he continued, as he pointed to the screen, which currently displayed Atsumu setting for his teammate. The two of them watched the screen until the play ended. Atsumu’s team won the rally, earning them their point. His twin brother in front of (Y/N) pumped his fist, quietly cheering for Atsumu, even though he knew the outcome of the match. It was a two-year-old game, after all.

“I’m Osamu.” Gray eyes glanced over in (Y/N)’s direction, who was taken aback by the sudden introduction.

“Ah, uh, I’m (L/N) (Y/N),” they said, with a half-full mouth of food. Setting down their chopsticks, they wiped their mouth with a napkin. The ramen was so good, so warm, and just so affectionately cooked that (Y/N) gave up all their cares to messily eat the food in front of them.

“I can see you’re enjoyin’ it, (L/N)-han. I’m glad it’s that good.” Osamu watched (Y/N) enjoy the bowl in front of them. Their hunger was akin to his brother’s hunger to improve in volleyball. He felt a pang of familiarity in his chest.

“I love it, Miya-han. What do ya think, Sumiko-chan? How’s it for you?” (Y/N) turned their head towards the girl, taking her time with every bite of her onigiri. Her boyfriend held his own in his hands, ravishing down on it. His cheeks were red due to the warmth of the food. Sumiko turned towards (Y/N), smiling. She gave a thumbs up, a sign of her satisfaction. (Y/N) returned their own small smile.

“Looks like we’re all happy, Miya-han. Thanks for the food.” (Y/N) continued to eat, and Osamu departed from the counter.

—

“That was really good!” Sumiko exclaimed, walking out of the tiny restaurant. “We should go there again someday!” The two others beside her agreed.

(Y/N) shoved their hands into the pockets of their jacket. It was quite cold—colder than usual, at least—for a January afternoon. Though, the pockets of their jacket seemed to be emptier than normal. But (Y/N) paid no attention to that.

“Anyways, (Y/N), don’t you think that store owner was cute? I sure think he was. But you’re cuter, Ichiro, don’t worry.” Sumiko turned towards her boyfriend, giving her a small smile in return. Aw. Their relationship was so cute. (Y/N) wished they had a relationship at least a fraction as affectionate as theirs.

“Yeah, he was pretty cute, I guess,” (Y/N) started, drawing out their words. Though, they didn’t really know how to put it all together; there was just something about him that made them long for his affection (they didn’t know it at the time, but it was definitely his cooking). They hummed, trying to piece together what they were trying to say.

(Y/N)’s roommate looked on in curiosity. “Is there somethin’ wrong? Can ya feel your heartstrings tugging? Is this the sign of true love?” Ever the romantic she was. She’d been rooting for (Y/N) to find their one-and-only since the beginning of their first year of graduate school. Ever the supportive friend she was, as well.

“Agh, I’m just— I just can’t believe how much I stuttered around him... and ate so messily in front of him, too, and—“ (Y/N) sighed. Sumiko clasped a hand on their shoulder.

“It’s alright, (Y/N); you hit it off greatly with him! Didn’t you see it? He definitely did. I mean— the longing look in his eyes while he was talking to you was phenomenal! Ichiro, why don’t you look at me the way—“ Sumiko’s scold was cut short by a familiar voice calling out from behind them. It was Osamu. He held (Y/N)’s phone in his hands, as he made his way towards them. Ah, so that was why their pocket felt slightly emptier than usual.

“(L/N)-san. You, uh... you forgot this,” Osamu said, looking down at the phone. (Y/N) held out their hand, as he gave them back their phone using both of his hands.

“Oh, thank you, Miya-han,” (Y/N) replied with a little more fluster than they had before.

As they put their phone back in their pocket, Osamu whispered something under his breath, just barely audible. (Y/N) asked him to repeat what he had just said.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he started, “but I added my number to your phone.” (Y/N) smiled, their cheeks reddening—totally because of the cold January weather (yep, totally).

“No, I don’t mind at all. Let’s talk more often, and maybe you can cook something else for me as well.”

—

cheese + general taglist (you can ask to be removed 🌝): @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @airybby @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @bbytenma

[muwur]

hii :-) ur writing is so cute!!! could i uhh get some super fluffy mayb a lil suggestive one shot or scenario about being quarantined with oikawa post-time skip? 🥺

quarantining

✩ oneshot ✩ for oikawa

❧ gn reader

✎ 2.2k words

a/n: gotchu! hopefully i didnt take too long ;(( i have trouble getting inspo, it usually will hit me all at once or neverr. hope you like cx

wishin i got some quality times during quarantine, y/n out here rlly living their best n domestic life smh

also, i hope this was fluffy! ik i made it a bit silly and playful so i hope thats ok! lmk if you would like me to attempt again and id be more than happy too cx

requests: open!

So far, it’s been a month into quarantine. Despite having lived with Oikawa’s needy self for the past two years, being stuck at home with him all the time definitely tested your patience, especially when he was bored, seeking attention, and missing volleyball.

“Oikawaaa, hold on, I’m almost done with work. Maybe talk to Iwa for a bit until I’m free,” you suggested as you typed away at your computer, not even sparing your whiny boyfriend a glance as he lamented about his boredom.

“Iwa’s already asleeeppp and there’s nothing to do hereeeee,” he complained. He pulled up a seat next to you and poked your cheek repeatedly. “Having a long distance best friend and an s/o who doesn’t care about you is harddd, why does life give me such a hard time?” he despaired, referring to his best friend who lived in another country, and you, his partner, who was trying to do work so you both could be financially stable in the middle of this pandemic.

You rolled your eyes in response and turned in your chair to face him, grabbing his cheeks in your hands and giving them a squeeze. “Boohoo, I think someone’s gotten a little too used to having fan girls entertain him all the time.” You gave his pouty lips a quick peck. “I’ll be done in 20 minutes, max. Go watch some tik toks or something.”

After you returned to doing your work, Oikawa settled for wrapping his arms   from behind you and resting his chin on top of your head. He hummed to himself some trendy tik tok song he discovered the other day as he played with your hair, and you found the vibrations from his throat and the soft tugs on your scalp strangely soothing.

As much as you rolled your eyes or scoffed at his antics, you loved when he would go out of his way to catch your eye. Oikawa knew what would get to you. He could make you smile, laugh, piss you off, or comfort you in an instant.

You felt your heart soften at a memory from not too long ago.

“Hmmmmm,” Oikawa thought aloud, stroking his chin with his thumb. “Put that one... here.”

“Yes ma’am,” you responded, placing a pillow in the gap between two other pillows. Then, you both took opposite ends of the same blanket, draping it over the array of pillows you arranged on the living room floor and thus completing your pillow fort.  

He eagerly slid inside the castle and patted the spot next to him. “y/nnnn, hurry up and lay here with me so we can watch our favorite show while we cuddle and I feed you~”

You couldn’t help but smile as you obliged, easing into the spot next to him. You both lay on your stomachs, supported by a single, long pillow stuffed underneath your chests. Oikawa hooked an arm around your waist, closing the gap between you two. His free hand reached for a bag of your favorite snacks. He opened it, picked up a piece, then held it up to your face.

Just as you were about to take a bite, your face contorted into an expression of shock and betrayal when you saw him quickly seize the piece into his own mouth. Looking at your gaping face, he raised a mischievous eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that was for you?”

And that was how he ended up face down and star fished on the floor, with you sitting cross-legged on his back and triumphantly munching on your snacks, surrounded by a chaotic mass of fluffy pillows and blankets.

“I win,” you giggle through your bites.

“No fair! That pillow to my face came outta nowhere!”

15 minutes passed by when you finally finished, closed your laptop, and hugged his arms. “Alright, I’m all yours now, what’s up?” you tilted your head back and glanced upwards to meet his gaze, the corners of your lips turning upwards in a small smile.

“Wellllll, I was thinking of sharing a nice dinner together, maybe a fragrant bath...” he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Pffft,” you spit out, shoving his face away playfully and getting up to your feet. “Only if your highness will make me dinner. I’m hungry after a long day’s work of breadwinning. What have you even been doing all day?”

“Uhhh...” Oikawa pursed his lip and looked at the ceiling in faux thought. Then his eyes landed back on you sheepishly, “Nothing.”

Laughing, you gave his cheek a soft pat and took his hand, leading him to the kitchen. “Of course, I expected nothing less of you, Lazykawa,” you jibed, well aware you were using one of Iwa’s classic nicknames on him.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get something ready for us. You just sit your pretty self at the table and watch.”

"I want a close up view, though,” you remarked, snaking your arms under his own from behind as he was investigating the fridge’s contents.

“Works for me,” he winked.

You clung onto him and followed his steps around the kitchen, taking in his refreshing scent and observing judging his meal preparation.

“Mm, yes, instant ramen, quite the challenge, Oikawa. What’s your strategy?”

“Divide and conquer. Watch and learn, y/n.”

He exaggerated his movements throughout the cooking process, which made clinging onto him a bit of a struggle, to say the least. He finally poured the cooked noodles and soup into a large bowl, adding in some boiled eggs, seaweed, and green onion for embellishment. “Voila!” he bragged, carrying the dish slowly to your small dining table as you continued to follow him. Oikawa set the bowl down, “Dig in, honey.”

Unlatching yourself from his back, you took a seat next to him and lay a head lazily on his shoulder. His heart fluttered at the sight of your cheek nestling comfortably into him, and he mentally kicked himself for letting your proximity make him experience those first date jitters all over again, even though it’s been four years since that time. He took in the details of your face, feeling his heartrate quicken when your eyes slowly flickered upwards at him from underneath your eyelashes. Your sweet lips parted slightly, looking like honey could drip from them at any moment. They were captivating, but tread the wrong way and he could be left stung. He wanted them to say his name, longingly--      

“Well, are we going to eat or just sit here and let the food get cold?”

“O-Oh, right,” he stuttered out, taking a pair of chopsticks and dipping them into the bowl. How had his mind strayed so easily? He might act like he could keep his cool all the time, but with you, that was a different story. Four years whipped by quickly, but the thought of you never failed to bring him a sense of comfort, anticipation, embarrassment, and intrigue all at once.

He picked up a few strands of noodles and blew on them gently. The steam from the bowl rose to warm both your cheeks, marking them with a dewy, rosy tinge. Oikawa brought the noodles up to your open mouth, which you received with such delight that he had to refrain from gushing over how cute it looked. He continued to feed both of you, listening as you talked about work, how your friends were in quarantine, and what you wanted to do when things got back to normal. Although he was attentive, making sure to acknowledge your words with some sort of response such as a nod or a reply, he could feel a knot in his stomach begin to tighten ever so slightly. When his mind wandered, he couldn’t help but think about what the future held for you both.

You were one of the most supportive people in his life. You decided to move here in order to stay close to him and support his career and passion for volleyball. You found yourself a job in order to help make a living and adjust to your new lifestyle. You put effort everyday into your relationship, making sure you looked after one another and communicated your needs. Your empathy and understanding were unmatched, and he couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like for the last two years if you never came along with him. Reaching back farther, he was almost positive the last four years of his life and all the good that’s come his way since then was thanks to you.  

“To be honest, that ramen hit the spot more than I expected it to,” you sighed with satisfaction. Then, you looked over at him and noticed the slight furrow of his brows. “Tooru...? Helloo?”

You waved a hand in his face and jolted him from his thoughts. He took your hands and looked into your eyes with a spark of determination. “Y/n.”

“Uhhh... Yes?” you asked, a bit confused.

Closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he proceeded. “The years we’ve been together have been among the best in my life. You’ve never failed to make me feel safe and happy, and I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you by my side. I need you to stay with me, to look after me while I also take care of you. I know we’ve only fantasized and shared jokes about the future, like when we tell our children stories, you’ll make fun of me and share with them some of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. When we get a pet dog (or cat, or any other pet you prefer), I’ll have to compete with it for your attention, and I’ll probably lose. When I’m old and my knee finally gives out on me, you’ll lug me around on your back. But I don’t want those things to remain little jokes; I want to experience all those moments with you, no matter how big or small. That said...”

Once Tooru realized what he was about to suggest, his cheeks flushed and he accidentally bit his tongue. “Ow, fuck!”

Startled and still caught off guard from his sweet words, your eyes widened as you choked out, “H-Huh?? What’s wrong, what happened?? Tooru?” You tried to convince yourself the heat you felt was due to the hot ramen and your concern for Oikawa.

I was just about to ask for your hand in marriage.

He held his hands in front of his face, waving them around in frantic dismissal. “N-Nothing, I just bit my tongue..!” Gotta think, gotta think of a cover...! What else could I even say that would make sense after having said all that..?!

He took in another deep breath and held up both your hands again, bringing them close to his mouth and giving them a kiss.  “When this is all over... W-Why don’t we take a trip somewhere? We’ll go anywhere you like! Just us two, going on adventures, having drinks, doing fun things.”

You sighed out in relief, releasing your pent-up anxiety. “T-That’s all?! I-I mean, ah yes, of course! That sounds amazing, I’ve always wanted to go to *insert place here lol* and this would be the perfect chance!”

You cupped his face gently and brought him in for a warm, soft kiss. His lips meshed with yours as his hand reached for your jaw. His thumb caressed over your right cheekbone, pulling you closer and giving you a sense of security.

Though, at the back of your mind, you had suspected, Was he about to propose? But then you thought, Nah, if he was considering it, I don’t think he’d do that right now, stuck at home during quarantine. Now, what if I proposed before he did.... Hm...

And his mind was filled with, Oh thank god I caught myself, I don’t know what I would’ve done, I don’t even have anything ready, I never thought about it as seriously as I did in that moment, what was I thinking, also ramen tastes kinda good on their mouth...

A few minutes passed when you broke apart. He spent a few seconds looking into your eyes, which glistened with passion and love. “You’re really sweet, Tooru, you know that?” you said with a smile. He smiled, giving you a kiss on your forehead before standing up abruptly, much to your dismay. But then he offered to wash the dishes, much to your content and appreciation.

He finished not too soon after, then walked into the living room to find you splayed out on the couch and browsing your phone.

“I made dinner like I promised, so into the bath we go!” he yelled, hooking his arms underneath your back and legs to lift your body. You yelped in surprise, dropping your phone on the sofa. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, laughing as he rushed towards the bathroom.

“Fine, I’ll keep up my end of the deal,” you said, reaching for the bathroom door’s handle and turning it open. Once inside, he kicked it shut with his foot and set you down on the sink counter. He moved towards the tub to turn on the warm water, then came back to the counter and held up two bath bombs. “So, you want rose or lavender?”

But instead, you hooked onto him once more and pulled him into a needy kiss.

Someday soon, when this is over, you’ll be mine forever, y/n.

Despite having lived with Oikawa’s dorky self for the past two years, having to be stuck at home with him all the time had definitely its perks. There wasn’t anyone else you would’ve rather spent your time with, that’s for sure.

a/n: fihuofiejmcg i tried LOL, i hope you liked, honestly was just typing ad goign along till i got ideas! I wouldnt let myself sleep until i finished this sdfghjk anyways. we luv oikawa. also i hope that last thought of his dont sound creepy LMAO

ps i shoulda been filling out my job application but lmaoooo

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter one: double deuces

chapter one of book three, of course ;)

"tell me a story (will ya, will ya) a real good story (I won't leave till ya) spill your guts old man; leave out any secrets, hiding in the... any skeletons, and all your other sins any skeletons, in the closet! any skeletons, any misfortunes any skeletons, hiding in the closet! any skeletons, any skeletons in the closet!"

“Happy birthday, my dear friend.”

Aurora had taken Sam out to that Vietnamese restaurant for lunch on her birthday. Twenty two years old and she could feel the very essence of age over her head. In New York for two years and it all felt like a blur and the clear real thing all at the same time. In a year's time, she would be on the brink of her mid twenties: it all felt so ephemeral and so quick at the same time. It felt so odd to think that not even four years ago she was still in high school and she had gone into a strange brand new place in the meantime.

Four years felt like a lifetime ago, especially since she looked on at her black hair and she swore it was growing lighter over her temples. It could have just been the reflection of the glass in the mirror for all she knew, but when she went to brush her hair, she swore there were some light tendrils near the crown. As long as it didn't turn into a striking pearly white silver color, she knew she would be fine.

Aurora raised her white china tea cup for a toast to her. The soft aroma of the green tea comforted her, and she followed suit with her own cup.

Ever since she and Emile had gotten together, and ever since she had gotten that dress for Kirk's wedding the next weekend, Aurora had been dressing up more nicely: at the moment, she had a rich deep purple velvet sweater wrapped around her body and a little red rose tucked behind her ear. Despite the bitter New York cold, she started wearing more floral print tights to go with her skirts; Sam had to take a second look at her face to make out the sight of the black eye liner about the smooth edges of her eyes.

Sam herself meanwhile found herself drawn more to black—Aurora said it was because of her hanging out with Testament the past couple of weekends as well as Joey on certain days after school.

“I think it could also be because I'm in the arts,” she told her the day before. “Marla wears a bunch of black and Belinda has been wearing a lot of it, too.”

“Hangin' around the arts and hangin' out with a bunch of heavy metal dudes,” Aurora chuckled.

The art scene seemed so far away from her given she was a student and she even began to struggle with classes in recent days. Indeed, the thought of forfeiting college itself to live down in the real bohemian side of New York City was more tempting than ever to her. But she had nestled in the Bronx, three floors over Frank and down the block from Charlie and Marla. It was either pick up and go live alone in another part of town or stay there and continue to do what felt like spinning her wheels day in, day out. Sam tried to not let her thoughts cast a shadow on her own birthday, but she couldn't help but look at her own reflection in her tea cup and frown.

“Maybe it's all the doing stuff after school that's getting to you,” Aurora told her. “We haven't really seen Marla in the past few weeks.”

“No, we haven't,” Sam confessed as she gazed out the window at the snow drifts along the sidewalk.

“Well, if it's any comfort, I've been getting antsy myself,” Aurora said. “Emile wants me to move in with him but it's gonna be hard to do it especially if it's just him who's helping me with the move.”

“And you're going from Long Island up to the Bronx, too,” Sam added, “it was bad enough for me to get my bed up the stairs in that building.”

“It was tricky for me, too,” Aurora continued. “And you and I also moved across country, too.”

“And how—from around the same area, no less. Well, San Diego is way further south in comparison to Lake Elsinore, but it's near the same range, though.”

“It's all within range of L.A., that's for sure. L.A. and Riverside.”

“Hey, if Greg, Eric, and Louie can talk nonsense while they're in the studio, we can, too,” Sam pointed.

“Makes sense—Southern California exiles, the both of us.” Aurora raised her cup again to her and they clinked them together before they took a sip in unison.

“When's your birthday, by the way?” Sam asked her as she held her cup close to her mouth. “I can't remember if you told me or not.”

“May twenty ninth.”

“Oh, I see. I kept thinking it was in October for some reason.”

Aurora chuckled at that. “Well, I haven't really made it much of a point because my parents always treated birthdays different in comparison to that of American culture. I always wanted an American style birthday party growing up in San Diego but that's probably the one thing they brought over from the Korean peninsula is the way birthdays are treated.”

“And how's that?”

“When we reach a certain age, they have different celebrations for them. Like your first birthday is 'dol' or three hundred sixty five days since you were born, and that came from the fact Korea didn't have as good of protection on their newborns as we do here: so when you made it to your first birthday, it was significant. The family says a prayer for the kid and then they eat rice, seaweed soup, and rice cakes—my mom has a photo of me from my 'dol', I'll have to show it to you if and when we go out to San Diego together. They have cake and candles just like Americans, but the cake is far different—it's a lot more savory than it is sweet. And on New Year's, they eat a soup so they can finish up the age they are for the certain year. So you're actually considerably older on the peninsula than you are here. If you're ten years old, in Korea, you're considered eleven or twelve.”

“Wow.”

“And when you reach fifteen years of age, and you're female, you're considered an adult. That said, I'm glad I'm a born American because I can't imagine coming to New York City as a fifteen year old.”

“I can,” Sam said.

“You can?”

“As a boy.” She thought about Alex right then.

“Now, boys have to wait 'til they're twenty before they're considered adults.”

“So Alex would still be considered a boy right now?” she asked her. “Being eighteen?”

“Yes!” Aurora then burst out laughing and clapped her hands at that. “Oh, god, I just pictured him in the traditional horse hair hat that boys have to wear on their twentieth birthday, and I also just pictured him picking up a giant rock and lifting it over his head, too.”

“How giant are we talking, exactly?”

“One that dwarfs his entire body.” Aurora raised an eyebrow at that.

“I dunno, Aurora,” Sam confessed with a shake of her head, “—he's pretty thin but he's also got that little bit of baby fat left on him. He looks pretty soft.”

“Bet you he's way stronger than he looks.”

“Joey is,” Sam continued as she brought her cup back up to her lips.

“Joey is!”

“Mr. Hockey Player—yeah, that boy's tougher than nails.”

“Well—we are going to be in the Bay Area next weekend,” Aurora pointed out. “A whole weekend of doing stuff while Kirk and—Rebecca, I think is his fiancée's name?—while they're getting married. We all can just hang out and be a bunch of genuine friends together for a couple of days.”

Sam squinted her eyes at that.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked her in a low voice.

“You'll see. And maybe Exodus and Death Angel will want in on the fun, too. Fun with the 'little four'.” She flashed Sam a wink as she sipped from her tea once again. Right then, the sole waitress in the restaurant showed up at their table with their bowls of pho: chicken for Sam, vegetarian for Aurora. One more toast and they both dipped into their bowls of fresh hot soup.

At least that night she was to have cupcakes courtesy of Marla, forty dollars courtesy of Belinda, and a jovial phone call from her parents that night. Nothing more, nothing less, but at the same time, she wished for more and she knew that her flight back out to California that next Friday was the start of something for her. Something big and grand, like that next weekend in the Bay Area. It would take place on a day that wasn't her birthday, but it would be something.

Since it was Wednesday, after lunch, she headed back to school for the rest of the day and then back to her place in the Bronx. She stepped in through the front door: the first thing she noticed was the vase of yellow tulips on the table. They had lasted so long, and for so long in the heart of the first winter following Cliff's passing, but she noticed the wilt as it began to settle in on the yellow petals.

She would keep them there on the table until the pure yellow color vanished and they lost their smell, much like with the black hat Cliff had given her.

Sam took her seat on the couch with her drawing pad rested upon her lap. She was an artist in New York City, and yet she lived so far from the actual art scene. The boots still on her feet and yet she had no means as to how to look for it outside of her school work. Marla and Belinda had their way, for sure, but there had to be something more. There had to be, especially since she began to put her head down and put more work into her art for her classes. The struggle still came down on her, even as she gave her fish tails more scales and her humans more of a shading around their heads. It all seemed to slip away from the in between her fingers.

Everyone seemed to be doing better: her classmates received more praise, even Belinda who, at one point, admitted that graphites were a challenge for her as well. And yet, when Sam drew a self portrait surrounded by roses and water lilies, one of the comments Miss Estes left for her on the back side of the heavy grained paper was “lots of effort.”

She was eager for the flight out to the Bay Area by the time that early Friday morning rolled around, and she and Zelda were seated next to each other. She had packed that copy of Siddhartha with her but she had no idea as to when she would get to crack it open over the weekend.

Zelda had put on a plain white T shirt and fitted black jeans, and she had combed her short bob of black hair back for the flight. Apparently all she had packed with her were white shirts and black jeans.

“Don't you wanna look nice like at Cliff's memorial?” Sam asked her with a chuckle.

“I've got some suspenders and a tie to go with them,” Zelda replied. “It's a wedding for a friend of ours, and he said that we can wear whatever we like. So I told him that I'm gonna be full punk chick there. I'm guessing you'll be the artist?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, “the full black, baby.”

Zelda raised a hand to her for a high five and the light for the seat belts flickered on right then.

“I'll tell you this, Zelda,” Sam began.

“What's that?”

She peered over her shoulder to make sure Marla and Charlie paid no attention to them, given they were right across the aisle from them. Sam then gestured for Zelda to move in closer to her: beyond her and outside the window, she noticed the first few flurries of snow against the pane. She hoped they would take off soon.

“I'm getting kind of bored of New York,” she whispered to her.

“Really?” Zelda raised her eyebrows at her.

“Yeah. It's just—falling into the whole 'same old, same old' thing. I'm an artist, I should be able to go places with it all.”

“Absolutely, absolutely.”

“And I just—” Sam shook her head. “It's a great big city but I feel like there's nothing for me there anymore. Two years there and I'm not feeling it anymore. I'm glad we're going back out to the Bay Area for just this one weekend because I feel myself slowly going insane.”

“And why are you telling me this in a whisper?” Zelda asked her in a soft voice.

“Because—I don't know how to break it to Marla yet, or Belinda for that matter. Aurora kind of knows, but not in that sense, though. I made note of it to her but she didn't really suggest anything to me.”

“You can come to Providence,” Zelda suggested, “there's tons to do in Providence. Narragansett and Natick, too.”

“I guess what I'm trying to say is I feel trapped. Two years ago, I came here to the Northeast for a change of pace and it feels like it's trapped me sideways. There's no way out unless I really genuinely leave. The downside of course is—leaving you ladies behind and leaving Anthrax behind.”

“Yeah, and—we kinda like you, Sam. I do, especially. And I know Aurora does, too. And Marla.”

“Aurora is one of my best friends. Her and Frankie. They're my best friends. I don't know how I would handle leaving them both behind for a change of pace. I feel me and Marla drifting, if I'm honest. Can't really blame her, though—school's getting hard on her.”

“Well—whatever you do, Sam,” Zelda started again, “I'll support you on it. If nothing, you'll get the full support from me.”

“Thank you, Zelda. That—that means a lot to me.” Sam showed her a friendly smile.

Zelda shrugged. “I'm from Rhode Island,” she replied. “Moreover, I'm a punk rocker from Rhode Island. We look out for each other more so than these metal boys.”

They touched down in the Bay Area at five in the morning, and right as the sun began to rise right behind them. The thick fog surrounded the airport and Sam thought about the one and only Christmas she and Cliff spent together.

“Looks like San Francisco,” she muttered. “Feels like it, too.” She closed her eyes as they rolled up to the gate. She and Zelda stepped out of the airport first and she breathed in that marine air. She swore that New York was in fact her one true home, but there was just something about California that brought her more so into that feeling. That feeling that she needed to be there. All the fleeting thoughts led up to that moment there on the sidewalk.

Cliff's remains were not very far away from there, either.

She, Zelda, Marla, Aurora, and Belinda all stood at the curb as Charlie and Emile fetched their rental cars. All those men awaited them not too far from there, and Sam was eager to see Joey again given he flew in from Syracuse. That morning in which he and Belinda woke up before her and flirted with each other went through her mind every now and again. She never realized how much she wanted him until he put his arms around her and they locked eyes with each other. She needed to at the very least see him again: he also promised her a birthday gift.

Within time, Emile showed up with the little black car for himself and Aurora, while Charlie rolled up to the curb in a short dark green van. The four remaining girls piled inside away from the damp cold; Sam wanted to refer to him and Marla in the front seat as “Mom and Dad” again but she decided not to as she shivered under her jacket.

It wasn't New York, but Sam had forgotten how cold San Francisco could feel once the winter time set in.

“Okay, so we're going to a place called Marin Heights,” Charlie told them. “I think that's where the guys—Metallica—got the loft for us.”

“I've heard of it,” said Belinda from the middle seat.

“Me, too,” Sam added from the way back; Zelda huddled next to her and shook her head about. Sam had no idea as to why she didn't bring a jacket with her given it was winter in California. But instead, she peered out the small notch of a window to the Bay itself. She remembered that Testament were to film a music video out in Alcatraz, and those cold yellow lights from the island itself pierced through the foggy darkness. She wondered if they had finally wrapped up the recording of their first album since she wasn't able to sit in with them over the past couple of weeks because of school. She also wondered if she would receive any credit on it like with Stormtroopers of Death.

Charlie wound through the city until they reached the freeway, which in turn brought them up to Marin Heights, nestled back in the hills on the north side of town: they reached a switch back on the hillside so Sam was able to see the very top of the Golden Gate Bridge as it rose through the fog. The clouds themselves split apart so as to let the first rays of sunlight through and the metal of the bridge shone that bright amber color with the sunrise.

No wonder Cliff loved it there.

She sighed through her nose and turned her attention back to the road ahead of her as it turned away into the hills. Within time, they reached the top, and a small villa of little brick two story houses nestled back in the trees. She wondered if the wedding was going to be there as Charlie pulled up to the gravel driveway and stopped before the one closest to the street.

“I think this is us,” he informed them. “Or it might just be check in, I dunno.” He climbed out and then Sam and Zelda followed suit. The latter raised her lanky arms over her head and closed her eyes. Meanwhile, the former spotted a tall lanky boy with long black hair perched on a stone post on the other side of the driveway. He faced the other way but she knew those rich jet black curls anywhere.

“Joey?” she called out.

“Hm?” Zelda asked.

“Joey's over there.”

Zelda peeked around the rear end of the van and she nodded at her.

“Yeah, he is! Go get 'em!”

Sam then ducked around the end of the van and hurried over to him.

“Joey!” she called out. “Joey!”

He turned to face her with his eyebrows raised. He had lost a little weight so his waist was rather slim like Joey's, and the black hair dye held up, but she knew those deep eyes anywhere.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him as she skidded to a stop before him.

“Hi,” Alex replied back to her with a thoughtful look on his face. “What's happening?”

“I thought you were Joey for a second.”

“You thought I was Joey?” he laughed at that.

“You have similar hair to each other.”

“His has more of a pile, though. Like right on top of his head. That big pile of ringlets atop his head.” He gestured to the crown of his head. “Even though I'm sitting down, I think he's a little bit shorter than me, too?”

“I think so?” Sam shifted her weight right there. Stray strands of his black hair lifted off of his shoulders in the wind and he ran his hand over the back of his head. He shivered from the feeling over his skin.

“God, it's cold out here,” he muttered as he adjusted his jacket.

“Yeah, it's pretty nippy. Not New York, but it's that California cold, though.”

“You know, both my parents are from New York,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Both obscenely smart Ivy League professors. They came out here before I was born to teach over at Berkeley.”

“Is that why you had the gray streak?” she asked him.

“Nah, I have no idea where that came from.” He shifted his weight yet again on that post. He seemed uncomfortable sitting there but Sam had no idea where to go right then. Charlie's voice behind her caught her ear and she peered over her shoulder at his talking to James.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Alex told her as he shifted his weight a fourth time. “Aurora told the five of us last week that it was her assistant's birthday and she didn't know what to get you.”

“Aw, thank you—it was back on the twenty first, though.”

“Happy belated,” he corrected himself, and she swore he winked at her. Someone called his name and he looked off to the distance.

“Hang on—” he said, and he darted past her towards Charlie.

“Sam?” Zelda called out to her, and she jogged back to her. Aurora had climbed out of Emile's car right next to them and she shivered inside of her windbreaker.

“What's up?”

“Apparently the wedding is today,” Aurora announced.

“Today?” Sam was stunned.

“Yeah. Three o'clock. I guess Kirk's lady couldn't wait for it a second longer so they're doing it today.”

“So we get a full weekend of good ol' fun,” Zelda added as she clasped her hands to her upper arms.

“Exactly!”

Sam turned her attention to Alex, who was talking to Charlie about something. His black hair twirled in the cold winter winds. Even from a distance, he had such a grave expression on his face that it made Sam think he was much older than in reality.

Belinda had the right idea: he was very precocious. But now she had a little bit of insight into the boy in that he was raised by intelligent parents. It was a start with Alex and she could only wonder from that point onward.

Aurora and Emile led her, Zelda, and Belinda into the cabin behind Charlie and Alex, and once they stepped inside of the cozy foyer, Zelda was eager to turn on the heater.

“Terrible idea not to pack a coat,” she muttered as she hurried down the front foyer in search of the thermostat, “terrible idea not to pack a coat!”

Sam and Belinda meanwhile took to the narrow stairwell in front of them, and they made their way up to that second level: to the right stood a couple of rooms, while to the left was the bathroom and two more rooms. The door at the far end stood slightly ajar, such that when they reached the top, they spotted that head of black curls outside the doorway.

“Hey, Joey,” Belinda greeted him. That lopsided grin and those big brown eyes returned the favor, and Sam's heart skipped a couple of beats at the sight of him. He didn't appear to be ready for a wedding at all with his plain white shirt, extra tight blue jeans, and ragged white socks.

“There are my girls,” he said as he padded closer to them.

“Oh deary me, you're gonna be down the hall from us?” Sam teased him.

“Yup, me, Frankie, and Charlie and Marla. We're gonna be all here at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

“You know the wedding is today right?” Belinda told him.

“Oh, shit, is it really?” Joey raised his eyebrows at that.

“Yeah, Aurora just told us,” Sam added, and her heart sank at the thought of him barely being in the know of these things. “Three o'clock. So Bel and I are gonna get settled in and get dressed.”

“Oh, damn, thank you,” he told her, and his brown eyes sparkled at the sight of her. Cold as the earth and as engulfing as venom. He doubled back to his room and Sam pushed open the door in front of her. Inside stood a small bunk bed and a heavy wooden dresser underneath the window.

“Top or bottom?” she asked Belinda.

“You're older and got way more inside, so top,” she replied as she lay her purse down on the faded blue comforter upon the bottom bed. Even though they had plenty of time before the wedding, Sam wanted to clean up, and change her clothes and look her best. She hadn't been to a wedding in what felt like forever: there was one from when she was three years old, but she had no memory of it and she had no clue as to who even got eloped then, either.

Belinda offered to curl her hair and do it up extra nice, but she promised her there was very little to actually do up given her hair sat flat on her head. If only she could make curls into a crown like with Joey, but she had what she had in the form of a red wine colored dress and a thin black sweater over the top: the dress was a bit snug around her hips but she need not obsess over something as trivial as that when she remembered what Joey wanted to give her.

She was about to head on back inside of their room when she spotted him on the other side of the hallway with the five men from Death Angel, if she recalled correctly. Once again with the quintets and she would learn all of their names in the meantime. But he had a box wrapped in old faded red wrapping paper tucked under his arm and she hoped it wasn't just a wedding gift, especially since he still hadn't gotten dressed.

He laughed at something one of them said and he turned around.

“Oh, there you are!” he called out to her, and he scurried towards her. The tape on the edges of the box and the crooked look of the paper itself told her he wrapped it in a hurry, but she didn't mind at all once she slid her fingers under the edge of the paper closest to her. Careful not to tear it, she unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of black leather gloves and a red and white knit scarf, the latter of which she ran her fingers over to find it softer than anything she had felt before. It was as soft as a cat.

“It's your own pair of gloves plus a scarf,” he declared. “I just think about how cold you always get upstate.” He shrugged at that.

“I love it, Joey! It's so soft.”

“It's cashmere.”

Sam gaped at him. “Cashmere,” she echoed him.

“Yeah—it was marked down, though. But it's cashmere. I wanted to give you something nice and good and good and nice.”

She slipped the gloves on and they fit around her fingers as if they were made for her. Joey offered to put the scarf around her neck; he stood before her, a country boy in a plain white shirt before a California girl in a dark red dress, and he wrapped the scarf around her.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered to her. “Happy birthday. Double deuces as of ten days ago!”

“Thank you—” She put her arms around him and she held him close. His slender little body was as soft as that scarf, and he smelled of fresh baked bread, something she would be willing to experience as long as he didn't have a drop of alcohol on hand.

Maybe there was in fact something more to life than being in that groove all the time. Maybe she could find a way to break out of her shell, and she could owe it all to him.

And she still hadn't told her parents about him.

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #26: Lunch Dates

Prompt: when pigs fly | Master Post | On AO3

Head empty for so long, forced this out while missing my absolutely favorite ramen joint in all of Boston. I would kill a man for a bowl of tonkotsu as big as my head right now.

--

“Oh my gods where is she.”

Alakhai held up the fore, middle fingers, and thumb of her right hand, holding them straight, and then snapped those three digits closed in a locking motion. Then she immediately followed it up with a derisive flick of her two fingers.

Rereha raised both of her hands and flicked back twice with a sneer.

“Ladies,” Heron said without looking up from her book.

Alakhai rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, and Rereha sighed dramatically, bracing herself on her palms and leaning back on the bench, kicking her legs.

“Sorry I’m late!”

All three women looked up to see Synnove jogging towards them from the direction of the aetheryte plaza, wearing the halter top, rough canvas work pants, and heavy boots she would throw on before one of her gathering expeditions for crystals or ore or gems. Her sledgehammer and pick were slung over her shoulder, and Tyr trotted next to her, converted saddlebags slung over his back stuffed full of material.

Alakhai shuffled over on the bench and Synnove slid in next to her, setting her tools down on the ground and then leaning over to help Tyr out of the saddlebags and shoving them with a chime of crystals under the table. Tyr hopped onto the stool, carefully settling his tails around himself so they wouldn’t be stepped on by a waitress or other patron, and boofed happily when Heron reached over to scratch his neck.

Rereha pushed herself upright, hands raised in the air. “All right, we can eat!” she sang out, doing a happy dance in her seat.

One of the waitresses, Tatsu, came over and she smiled and bowed to them. “The usual, ladies?” she said.

“Yes, please!” they said in chorus.

Tatsu turned to Tyr. “And for you?”

The carbuncle made a deep burbling noise as he thought, ears flicking back and forth, before he finally mrowed. The katsudon, please! And some miso soup on the side?

“Of course,” the waitress said with another bow. As she rose, she made her way towards the ramen stall, calling out in rapidfire Hingan.

The group of friends settled in to wait with a round of gossip. Synnove had spent the morning out in the hills of Onokoro, collecting elemental crystals for a test back at the Guild, plus searching for spinels for another experiment. “Not carbuncle summoning,” she said with a wave of her hand, “but testing for suitably for industrial use of some sort. Any of the nicer specimens, of course, we’ll cut ourselves and sell to go into the Guild coffers.”

Alakhai would be teleporting to the Doman Enclave later for a promised sparring match with Yugiri. “Need to brush up on some of the traditional shinobi bladework versus the rogues’ style,” she murmured, sipping at her tea. Heron, meanwhile, had finished a short bodyguard contract for a Hannish merchant the previous night and was indulging in some sightseeing and shopping in Kugane before heading home. And Rereha was attending a complete, full day performance of a kabuki play entitled Kanadehon Chushingura (Rereha sounded it out carefully in the measured way of forcing the Echo not to translate it) at the Mujikoza.

“Of course, since half the audience are foreigners, there’s a two-bell intermission so everyone can get lunch,” Rere chirped.

“Hence your impatience for Synnove to arrive,” Heron drawled.

“Listen, I need at least three bowls of the good stuff to get me through the rest of this show, they don’t let you snack during the performance.”

At that moment, Tatsu returned with one of her sisters in tow, both of them carrying large trays. They set them on the edge of the table as the group cheered, and then began passing out the steaming bowls of ramen.

“Large tonkotsu with extra noodles, pork belly, egg, bamboo shoots, and seaweed,” the waitress said cheerfully as she set that one in front of Rereha.

“Aw, yeeeeaaaaaah.”

“Large tonkotsu with extra noodles, pork belly, egg, steamed fish cake, and bean sprouts.”

Alakhai grinned, the limbal rings around her irises glinting.

“Large tonkotsu with extra noodles, pork belly, egg, seaweed, corn, and butter.”

“I know I’m a heathen foreigner and I thank you and grandmother for indulging me,” Synnove gushed, rubbing her hands together as her bowl was placed in front of her.

Tatsu laughed. “You are not the first foreigner to ask for unusual toppings, and Grandmother enjoys expanding her palate! And for Heron, large tonkotsu with extra noodles, pork belly, chicken, extra egg, and bamboo shoots.”

Heron sighed happily and took a deep, appreciative sniff of her bowl.

“And last but certainly not least, for Master Tyr, the katsudon, miso soup—and four soft-boiled eggs, halved.”

Tyr boofed in delight, his feet tappity-tapping happily on his stool. Oh, thank you, Tatsu!

Each of the dishes had a generous sprinkling of green onion on top—extra for both Heron and Tyr—and Tatsu and her sister passed out chopsticks, soup spoons, napkins, and jars of condiments: hot sauce, plum sauce, tonkatsu sauce, and minced garlic. The waitresses bowed. “Please enjoy!” they chorused, and went to help another customer.

Tyr had been given a wide, shallow bowl for his katsudon to make it easier for him to have a mouthful of all three of the rice, fried cutlet, and eggs at once, and he chewed with a table rattling purr. Synnove poured a serving of the tonkatsu sauce on half his katsudon, and Tyr burbled his thanks, alternating bites of non-sauce with sauce covered lunch, sips of miso, and halves of egg.

The two-leggers dug in with equal gusto as the carbuncle; Rereha added enough hot sauce to her ramen that the broth turned a violent red—“I can enjoy bowls two and three plain, I gotta blow my brains out first!”—and almost immediately started sweating with the first bite of noodle and pork belly she shoved into her mouth. Alakhai went heavy on the minced garlic, and loaded up her spoon with broth and egg and sprouts, slurping it up with a pleased hum. Heron enjoyed her ramen without anything for her initial few bites, savoring noodles and broth and toppings all, before adding a dash of the plum sauce and a bit of minced garlic. Synnove went without any of the condiments for this serving, instead letting her pat of butter melt and muddle into the broth and expertly using her chopsticks to pop her egg into her mouth, following it with a slurp of broth.

They ate in silence, focused on the good food, working at a fast, methodical pace—the joys of working their arses off for a living was needing to keep their energy levels up—until, as one, they all lifted up their bowls and slurped the remaining broth until the vessels were empty. At that point, Tatsu arrived with fresh servings and took away the used dishes. For round two, their pace was much more leisurely, and they began to chat once more.

“Do you think if we give her one of those fancy spinels, Grandma Tsuru will finally share the secret of her magical broth?” Rereha said around a mouthful of noodles.

Her friends all snorted.

“That woman is unbribable,” Alakhai said.

“And you are in the unfortunate situation of not being a blood relative,” said Synnove, drizzling more tonkatsu sauce onto Tyr’s fresh serving of katsudon.

“Also, it means we keep giving her our business and gil,” Heron said with a snicker.

Rereha huffed and turned around, shouting towards where the old woman who made the best ramen in Kugane sat chopping green onions, “Hey, Grandma Tsuru! When will you give me your tonkotsu recipe?”

“When you can go one day without a smartass comment!” Grandma Tsuru hollered back.

“Oh, godsdamnit.”

Synnove, Heron, and Alakhai all began cackling as Rereha sulkily slurped more noodles.

[tbr-agency]

why not?

synopsis ∣ It was a last minute plan and Nara knew Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom would immediately agreed to it - not knowing the exact detail where they are going.

timeline ∣ December 2020

characters ∣ The Bangs, Bang Nara (The Bloody Roses), Jackson Wang, Bambam, Kim Yugyeom (Got7)

a/n ∣ fluff and soft, a little crack, it’s normal that Bambam is nervous but Jackson and Yugyeom are extremely nervous for no reason. Italic means they are speaking in English!

“What!? Please tell me you’re joking, Nara!”

“I’m serious, Bam.”

“Turn back! Turn back!”

“We’re almost there, oppa! There’s no point turning back!”

“Yah! We didn’t bring anything with us!”

A deep scream comes from Jackson and a few whines coming from Bambam and Yugyeom as Nara could only laugh to see them panicking.

Nara had invited them for dinner and she knew Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom were the only ones who would agree immediately - no matter how busy they were, they would make time for the maknae of The Bloody Roses.

But what the 3 members of Got7 didn’t know is that they are going to a family dinner - personally made by the Bangs.

“Yah! I could have worn a suit or something! Look at what we are wearing now!” Jackson complained as he pointed at himself - wearing a more comfortable outfit rather than a formal one.

“Hyung is right! We look like we just woke up from a nap or something!” Yugyeom added with a slight frown as he looked at Nara who was driving.

“Why are the two of you panicking?! I should be the one panicking since I’m meeting my girlfriend’s family!” Bambam yelled in nervousness but somehow, there is a little excitement in him.

Nara chuckled to see them basically panicking at the back. She wasn’t nervous or anything since her family invited the Got7 members, so she was fine and Nara knew her family is fond of the Got7 members since they had attended her sister’s wedding so they are considered family.

Nara glanced towards Bambam through the rear-view mirror to see him looking a little quieter than usual but he was still, himself - but more calmer.

Coincidentally, Bambam caught her gaze as he proceeded to give her a cheeky wink - making Nara roll her eyes.

Maybe he wasn’t nervous or panicky at all.

“Dude! Your house is huge!” 

“It’s not my house, Jackson. It’s my Mum and Dad’s!”

The 3 of them looked towards the extravagant home. To be honest, the 3 members weren’t too surprised knowing all of the girls’ family background.

“C’mon! Don’t be a stranger! You guys met them during my sister’s wedding!”

“But they might forget us!” Yugyeom pouted and Nara tilted her head, gesturing to come in as they passed through the gates.

“No, they don’t, Gyeom. They all love the 7 of you, trust me.” Nara added, after seeing Jackson clinging onto Yugyeom as they walk ahead, following the path.

Bambam weirdly grew quiet, causing Nara slightly looking towards him.

“Bam, you good?” Nara questioned, reaching out for him as she holds onto his hands, gripping slightly.

“Can I be honest? I’m nervous,” Bambam whispered and Nara's expression softened into a smile.

“Why? You met them before,” 

“Yeah.. but this is a family dinner, it’s considering a formal kind of meeting,” Bambam answered while pouting slightly - making Nara stop at her tracks, pulling Bambam as he faced her.

Nara looked towards where Jackson and Yugyeom was as she decided to have a word with Bambam privately fast before the 2 members saw them.

“Remember that night where you said you wanted to make our relationship public?” Nara questioned and Bambam nodded as his answer.

“Well, this is the first step - I’m just saying. This dinner is for them to get to know you better without being too formal. My parents aren’t a fan of too formal dinners. It’s boring but they have too since their job is basically full of meetings. But this… they have a choice so they wanted to make it casual and comfortable, for you, me and for everyone. Also, the others were invited because my sister misses them so..” Nara explained with a slight shrug in the end as she mentions her sister.

Bambam sighed in relief while engulfing Nara for a hug.

“I love you so much, Nara.” Bambam whispered, earning a giggle from Nara.

“Feeling better?”

“Well—

“Hey lovebirds!” A familiar voice called, making Nara and Bambam to turn towards where the voice came from to see Nara’s sister leaning against the door while wiggling her eyebrows.

Bambam immediately pulled away from Nara while looking down shyly while Nara was looking at her sister’s way with a disgusted look.

“I’ve been standing here for 5 minutes and none of you noticed me! Jackson and Yugyeom have entered in now so it’s just the two of you!”

“Okay pervert! We’re coming!” Nara yelled, causing Bambam to laugh out loud seeing the two sisters bickering with one another.

Bambam should have trusted Nara’s words because she was really right. As soon he stepped into the big house, he could already see Jackson and Yugyeom basically standing beside Nara’s mother - talking and laughing and as soon as Nara’s mother turned her head towards Bambam’s way, her expression turns into a smiley one as she made her way towards Bambam, engulfing him into a tight, crushing hug that Nara’s father had to stop his over-excited wife.

They were so welcoming and it scares Bambam that they are a replica of Bambam’s family. 

Nara’s family was an example of any typical big family and what Bambam liked about hers is that as soon as they sat on the dining table area, her parents - especially Nara’s father - were quick to ask everyone to dig in.

And unlike other families, Nara’s parents' first question towards the 3 Got7 members was what they always do during their free time and that’s when a whole new conversation that related to pets, games and music are being brought to the table

Nara just watches the members talk their heart out mainly to Jackson regarding his Team Wang plans, Yugyeom talking about his love for Dalkyum and him getting teased especially by Nara’s mother about Hyunji and Bambam talking about his family.

Jackson and Yugyeom then proceed to lowkey diss about Bambam at the same time praising Bambam regarding his personality and attitude.

Bambam knew the spotlight was about him but Nara’s parents were nice enough to make more conversations with Jackson and Yugyeom - in an attempt to make them comfortable too.

In conclusion, the 3 Got7 members enjoyed their dinner.

“My dear, what do you see in Nara that you somehow… want to be with her?” Nara’s mother questioned Bambam as he was helping her to wash the dishes.

With just a simple question, Bambam’s heart  began to beat faster in nervousness, hence his facial expression shows.

“You don’t have to be nervous… I’m just curious…” Nara’s mother added with a slight smile then hearing Bambam’s awkward chuckle.

“Nara is a gem, really. I have never met a girl like her before. She is real, genuine and beautiful and I see a future with her. We match so well,” Bambam confessed while focusing on the dishes.

Nara’s mother slightly turned towards Bambam - seeing him looking so serious. She knew the young man was serious, he wasn’t that funny and loud guy previously at the dinner table.

She could tell he was really genuine about being with her precious daughter.

“Does she make you happy?” 

Bambam turned towards the middle-aged woman, seeing her turning towards Bambam with a small smile.

“Yes.” Bambam answered with a nod.

“Then there’s no reason to be nervous around us, Bambam. We already accepted you in the family, try to be more comfortable around us, alright? I can tell Nara really loves you. That girl always mentions you and Got7 whenever we bring the topic of Thai-food and music,” Nara’s mother slightly chuckles, earning a chuckle from Bambam too.

He was really happy, too happy.

“Yah! Joohee! Why are you letting Bambam wash the plates!?!” A deep voice came from behind, causing both Bambam and Nara’s mother to jump slightly - then realizing Nara’s father was standing behind them with a frown.

‘Well, the nice gentleman offered so I just let him! No one in this household wants to help me!” Nara’s mother grumbled as Nara’s father turned towards Bambam with an apologetic smile.

“Well, I’m sorry, my love but I have to steal Bambam away! We are short with one player! C’mon!” Nara’s father pulled Bambam away, linking the older man’s arm on Bambam’s shoulder as they walked out of the kitchen.

Nara’s father was one of a kind and at first, Bambam was truthfully afraid of her father because when Bambam was walking around the house with Boyoung - Nara’s sister who kindly wanted to walk the 3 guest around the house, Bambam saw this big glass shelve that was filled with trophies and certificate of Nara’s parents.

Both of Nara’s parents had a title which was a higher rank and it was normal for the 3 members to be nervous but with Boyoung’s words of calmness, the3 members were relaxed since she said that her parents are the chill type.

The family weren’t the type to talk about work-related stuff when they are having dinner - as what they have experienced when they were eating with them.

Bambam had somehow gained a friendship with Nara’s father - and surprisingly but thankfully, both of them had a love for cats and Thai food. It wasn’t a surprise since his daughter loves thai-food too.

Bambam could see that Nara’s family were really caring and genuine as they prepared a bunch of dishes for the whole 7 members of Got7 which includes hand-made kimchi, whole lots of turkey especially for Mark, Jackson and Bambam, seaweed soup and a whole lot more.

Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom had to carry 2 bags each and Nara too carried 2 bags since her mother prepared for the girls too.

“That was fun! Thank you for inviting us, Mr and Mrs Bang! The hyungs will surely be happy with your gifts!” Yugyeom thanked Nara’s parents in excitement while hugging them - making Nara’s mother giggle.

Jackson on the other hand gave a tight hug to Nara’s parents while wishing them to live longly and have a healthy life since they were really precious.

“We will wait for the two of you in the car!” Jackson informed Nara and Bambam before dragging Yugyeom away - not letting Yugyeom to even say his opinions as the Hong Kong man dragged the maknae away.

“Come and visit us when you are free, Bambam,”

“Dear, he’s busy with work, right Bambam? Starting from this week, he’s going to be busy because they just have their comeback,” Nara’s father answered while holding onto his wife closely.

Bambam nodded while shaking hands with Nara’s father and unexpectedly, her father engulfed Bambam into a tight hug. 

Nara’s mother said a few words to Bambam which was asking Bambam to take care of himself and to eat more for health purposes then hugging Bambam.

“Okay! Move along, you two! Drive safely!” Nara’s father shooed the two young ones, causing Bambam to laugh - seeing Nara’s expression.

“Geez… Relax.. We are leaving,” Nara muttered under her breath, giving her two parents a big tight hug and kisses on their cheeks before walking away, together with Bambam.

“Nara-ah! Call us when you reach home!” Nara’s father yelled, causing Nara and Bambam to look back - with Nara giving her father a thumbs up and a wave to them.

“That was fun!” Bambam commented, sounding happy and Nara tilted her head towards him.

“I told you it’s going to be fun! You should see the whole Bloody Roses girls in the house - it’s going to be more chaotic!” 

“And the hyungs too! It’s gonna be fun and loud!” Bambam added his girlfriend's words, then watched Nara laughing as she continued to tell him different stories about the other girls whenever they were visiting Nara’s family.

Nara’s mother's words were stuck onto Bambam’s head and that’s when Bambam’s love for Nara grew bigger and he would forever remember this fun, enjoyable and soft night.

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au