#i love my little vegetable scraps man
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On one hand I'm so so excited for more people to meet mithrun in the anime and go nuts over him.
On the other I am so worried about folks not being cool about their bad ass fucked up fave needing caregivers.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#people are gonna cure his disability i jsut know it and it hurts#my man's arc is not about a cure#its about learning to want to live again with what he has#he will improve but he will always need help#and thats beautiful#i love my little vegetable scraps man#i hold him so close to my heart forever and always#anyway#i need someone to write a fic about kabru falling for mithrun and taking on all of the care duties#only to get burnt out and realize he needs help#and everyone rallying around them both to pitch in while kabru tangles with the feelings of it all#cause its really fucking hard and often unrealistic to do all the work of a caregiver for your SO#especially if youve got a job like royal advisor#ESPECIALLY if its royal advisor for Laios
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love, i found you |carmen berzatto x reader|
prompt: how anchovy berzatto came into your and carmen's lives. or the story of anchovy berzatto, dumpster kitten turned spoiled cat.
contains: mentions of animal being abandoned/ stray kitten. small, malnourished anchovy but nothing graphic (i won't do that to you i promise). mainly fluff. language. richie being a hater a little lol.
word count: 2.9k+
âChefs, keep the stations clear-âÂ
â-Has anyone seen Richie?-âÂ
â-Jeff, I need more branzino for the seven fishes-âÂ
â-Heard, Tina. There, uh, I think thereâs some-âÂ
â-Carm, have you seen the books for tonight?-âÂ
â-Has anyone seen Richie? Richie! Where the fuck is he?âÂ
A chaotic melody of screams meshed together in some kind of disarray of harmony, one speaking over the other, the sound of pots and pans clashing, hisses of sizzling food in them a backtrack to the madness.Â
âIâm right here, Sugar.â Richie scoffed, buttoning the front of his jacket. He patted your shoulder in passing, cheek pressing lightly to yours, muttering, âHowâre you, sweetheart? Doinâ good?â In passing.Â
He was the first to notice you, even over Carmen. The rest of the staff bustling through the kitchen prep, trying to squeeze everything in before the family meal. Carmen had invited you to family, but you were starting to regret agreeing, feeling useless and in the way in the face of the hectic nature.Â
âWhere have you been?â Sugar huffed at Richie, heels clacking in a stomp towards the office. âI have a million fucking things- oh, hey.â She paused, eyes lighting in a greeting when they landed on you.Â
âI didnât know you were here. How are you?â Sugar hugged you, a soft side hug in greeting that you returned stiffly.Â
âIâm good. How are you?â You muttered, eyes still scanning the kitchen.Â
Sugar let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead. âAsk me in about an hour.â She shook her head. âI have a million fucking things to do as I was telling Richie.â She turned, eyes narrowing pointedly at the man. âOnly two dishwashers showed up tonight.âÂ
âYouâre shitting me.â Richie groaned. âThat fuckinâ jagoff- take a chance on me, bullshit.âÂ
âYeah, so Neil needs to wash utensils tonight between the floor, ok?â Sugar jabbed a manicured nail into her clipboard.Â
âIs there anything I can do?â You squeaked, much smaller than you meant it to. Richie and Sugar turned to you, both blinking, like theyâd forgotten you were even there. âCarm invited me to family, but I can help. I can wash dishes if you need me too. I donât have anything else to do.âÂ
âThat would be-â Sugar nodded in a sigh, a small smile spreading across her face. âDid I ever tell you I love you? Seriously.â She turned to Carm, who was passing behind her. âCarm, donât ever fuck this up with her, you hear me? Iâll kill you.âÂ
âYeah, yeah.â Carmen muttered, and you knew by the drone in his voice he wasnât listening, too consumed with other things, discarding vegetable scraps into the trash.Â
âThis thing is fuckinâ full. Can they not- Oh, hey.â Carmenâs features softened at the sight of you, spine straightening gently. âWhenâd you get here?âÂ
âJust a few minutes ago.â You leaned forward, his lips brushing your cheek softly in greeting. âI didnât want to disrupt. You seemed⊠busy.âÂ
Carmen snorted. âYeah, uh, thatâs a word for it. Busy, out of my fuckinâ mind because this trash is fuckinâ full!â He boomed at no one in particular.Â
âNow, I gotta take this out and replace it, and that puts us back, and every second counts, does it not, cousin?â Carmen rambled, glaring at Richie, yanking the sides of the trashcan off the rim.Â
âLook, I didnât know that the two didnât show-âÂ
â-No, of course you didnât. Canât pay attention to shit-âÂ
â-Alright, letâs bring it down.â Sugar lifted her hands, eyeing Carmen with a slight nod of her head towards you.Â
âSorry.â Carmen muttered, eyes lifting to you. âSorry, cousin. I-Iâm just, weâre fuckinâ booked, an-and Iâm so far behind-âÂ
â-Iâll take it.â You squeaked, a little too eagerly. Carmenâs brows furrowed, you cut him off before he could finish. âNo, seriously, youâre all busy. Iâll go take this out and then Iâll help make sure the utensils are ready.âÂ
âN-No, I canât ask you to do that. That would be shitty.â Carmen shook his head, pulling the trash bag out of the can.Â
âGood thing you didnât ask me. I offered.â Your hand wrapped over his, squeezing his closed fist gently with a tiny grin. âGo, I got it.âÂ
Carmen beamed, cheeks tinging pink. If he wouldnât have been in the middle of the kitchen prep rush, he wouldâve kissed you, pressed you right up against the wall and smooched you sloppy. Instead, he let you take the trash.Â
âGary!â Richie called behind you. âMake sure you let her back in, alright? Just knock and heâll let you back in. Youâre a fucking life saver, yâknow that?â Richie beamed, pushing the heavy steel door open so you could duck under his arm.Â
It was surprisingly warm- well, warm-ish for Chicago in the winter. No snow, no need for a heavy jacket but brisk enough for a chill. The dumpster lid was already flipped over, and you were thankful for that, slinging the bag over the edge, turning to go back inside.Â
You stopped, halting just as youâd turned. The tiniest squeak of a cry, desperate and alert. You turned scanning the alley walls, the corners by the dumpster until you heard it again, that same pitiful whimper echoing off the metal of the dumpster- inside the dumpster.Â
You hesitated for a moment. You couldnât leave it, whatever it was, it sounded pathetic and in pain. Your eyes flickered back to the building, you could see Gary in the small window, head turned towards the others. They were so busy, you couldnât ask Carmen or even Fak.Â
âIâll be right back.â You cooed towards the dumpster frantically. âJust hold tight for me, ok? Iâll get you out, one sec.â It was silly, but you felt the need to say it, even if just for yourself.Â
Sprinting towards the door, you knocked on the glass rapidly. Gary pushed it open. âI need your help.â You stopped him before he could walk away. âJ-Just for a second. I promise.âÂ
Garyâs brows furrowed. âYeah, are you- youâre ok?âÂ
âYeah, I mean,â You turned towards the dumpster. âThereâs something in there. I think itâs a cat? I think itâs hurt.âÂ
âA cat?â Garyâs eyes widened, still, he followed your furious pace towards the dumpster. âWait, I-I donât think- Lemme get Carm-âÂ
â-No, heâs busy.â You shook your head. âIt will just take me a second. I just need you to help me get down.âÂ
Gary paused, watching you in complete awe- maybe horror- push off a discarded crate towards the ledge of the dumpster. âThis is- no, this is fuckinâ crazy, Iâm sorry. You donât know what that thing has-âÂ
Your small gasp cut him off, eyes rounding in awe. There in the piles of trash, a fuzzy blip of orange fur nestled into the black bags- a tiny, scraggly kitten, mewling helplessly.Â
âOh my God,â You muttered. âItâs a baby.âÂ
âA baby?â Gary gawked.Â
âA kitten baby.â You corrected, lip jutting. âI have to get it.âÂ
âI really donât think you should be doinâ this.â Gary looked back at the door then to you. âYou canât go in the dumpster, câmon.âÂ
âYou want to go in instead?â You huffed, eyes rolling at his disgusted snarl. âJust- Iâll do it.â You leaned to the side, taking a deep breath of fresh air, swallowing down a gag at the expected smell.Â
Holding your breath, you let yourself fall into the dumpster, the squishy bags of trash uneasy under your feet. The small kitten whined, crying at the shift of your weight.Â
âThis is fuckinâ insane.â Gary muttered, shaking his head.Â
âAye, Sweeps, what the fuck?â Richieâs voice boomed, the slam of the door making both of you jump. âTake your smoke break later, you jagoff, I need your-âÂ
â-Iâm not-â Gary huffed in annoyance. âSheâs in the dumpster.âÂ
âWho?â Richie asked.Â
âMe!â You swallowed a retch, the pungent stench of the trash filling your senses as you crouched closer towards the kitten. At least it wasnât summer.Â
âWhy the fuck is Carmenâs girl in the dumpster?â Richie roared. âCarmen! Get out here now, cousin!âÂ
âWhy is she in the dumpster? Why the fuck are you in the dumpster?â Richieâs furious stomps were muted from the outside. You cringed, still trying to hold your breath, coaxing the small kitten into your hold.Â
The poor thing, so small- so fucking small. Shaking in your hold, crying and whining, but turned into the warmth of your palm. A cry bubbled from your chest, mixing with a gag at the smell.Â
âCousin, what? What the fuck is-â Carmen bounded outside, stopping when he saw the top of your head pop up, out of the dumpster. âThe fuck?âÂ
âYour girlâs in the garbage.â Richie shook his head.Â
âYeah, why the fuck- Baby, w-why are you- What are you doinâ?â Carmen jogged towards you, hoisting himself over the side of the dumpster, arm extended for you.Â
âShe found a cat.â Gary rolled his eyes in annoyance.Â
âA cat?â Richie repeated.Â
âA kitten.â You showed Carmen, pulling the small thing from your chest, where you cradled him close to you.Â
Carmen blinked at you. âYou went in the dumpster f-for a cat? A cat?â He shook his head, confused. âBaby, that thing could have diseases a-and rabies and shit-âÂ
â-Heâs starving.â You countered, lip jutting in a firm pout. Carmen hated the way he could feel himself melting. The determination in your glare, ferocious yet soft.Â
âI could hear him crying, a-and I couldnât leave him.â You shook your head, petting the tiny kittenâs soft fur.Â
âSo you climbed in the trash?â Richie snarled in disgust.Â
âClimbed right in the dumpster.â Gary nodded.Â
âAlright.â Carmen looked over his shoulder at them, a pointed glare on his face. âJust- Lemme get you outta there, alright?âÂ
âHere,â You handed him the small cat, carefully cradling him. Carmen hesitated, a grimace in his scowl. Your eyes narrowed at him, a warning. âHold him gently.âÂ
So he did, of course he did, itâs what you wanted. Passing him to Richie with the same snarl of instructions, pulling you out of the dumpster, a firm hold on your waist as you climbed back over.Â
Richie was passing you the kitten with a grimace of disgust, dusting his hands off dramatically. âThere. Thereâs your garbage cat that can not come back in the restaurant. Cousin,â He glared at Carmen. âWe donât want another fuckinâ C. Get shut down for havinâ fleas or shit.âÂ
Carmen glared at him. âNo, heâs right.â You nodded. âCan you bring me my purse? Iâm going to see if I can get him checked out. Iâll be back.âÂ
âLet me come with you.â Carmen offered, motioning for Gary to go get your things, untying his blue apron.Â
âCarm, no. Youâre busy. I can do it.â You shook your head.Â
Carmen rolled his eyes. âNo, Iâm cominâ with you. Last time I let you do somethinâ alone. End up in the fuckinâ garbage.â He snorted playfully. âBesides, I think thereâs a place down the street. The vet has been in a few times. Iâll see if I can, yâknow, coerce him to squeeze us in.âÂ
âCoerce?â You lifted your brows playfully, petting the tiny kitten gently, trying to still his quivering.Â
âYeah, coerce.â Carmen rolled his eyes, swapping his apron out for his jacket, handing you yours. âGive âim a free dinner or somethinâ.âÂ
âNo fuckinâ way, no.â Richie shook his head. âCousin, youâre already late- Sydney is pissed, and youâre not bringing that fuckinâ flea bag in here.âÂ
You held the small cat close to your chest, still damp from his bath at the vet. Carmenâs coercing had worked, Dr. Vallenti had took the bribe happily, squeezing you both in for a check up. The tiny kitten, barely two pounds, malnourished and positively pitiful. You didnât even have to ask, Carmen knew from the way you held him close to your chest, eyes rounding just barely when the vet asked if youâd be keeping him.Â
âOf course,â Carmen nodded easily, squeezing your knee gently. âJust give him whatever he needs for right now, and what we need tâget. Weâll get it.âÂ
âHe doesnât have fleas, Richie.â You sneered, cradling the small cat in your jacket to keep him warm. His shake was down to a soft tremble, not as constant but still there.Â
âYeah fuckinâ right, rabies then-âÂ
â-Cousin.â Carmen sneered. Richie stopped with a huff, throwing his arms up and muttering something as he stormed away.Â
âHere,â Carmen muttered, a hand on the small of your spine, pushing you into his office. âIâll grab you a bowl and a plate for his food, alright? You just, just stay in here, ok? Richieâs right, he canât be out.âÂ
âIâll keep him in here.â You nodded, sitting in the small chair. âDo you have a towel?âÂ
âYeah, Iâll grab that too.â Carmen slung his jacket off, running a hand through his messy curls. âI, uh, I gotta get scrubbed up and put my stuff on, but if you need anything just yell, alright?â He ducked out to the small closet, snatching a towel and two dishes off the drying rack.Â
âIâll be alright.â You hummed, fingertip tracing down the kittenâs tiny head. He purred under your touch, made your chest burst with warmth.Â
Carmenâs lips pulled in a smile, putting the dishes on the ground for you, shedding his own shirt. You were entirely enamored with the cat, that was for sure, not even a sideways, ogling glance at Carmenâs shirtless figure.Â
âShit.â Your head snapped up, wide eyed at Carmen. âI forgot the dishes. I-Iâm so sorry, I can-âÂ
â-Itâs alright, baby.â Carmen dropped his pants, biting back a smirk at how your eyes did drop this time. âTina got her son and his friend to come in. Weâre good, baby.âÂ
âOh.â You nodded, eyes lingering on his boxer clad ass, before back to the kitten. âGood.âÂ
Carmen shrugged on his chefâs coat, walking over to you. âItâll be kinda a late night.â His eyes softened in apology. âIâll have someone run you a plate when we get outta the weeds, alright?âÂ
âThank you.â You muttered, head tilting back for a kiss. Carmen obliged, your lips pulling him in for a longer kiss than he expected, sweet- left his body burning with heat. âThank you.â You repeated, eyes shining sweetly.Â
âCâmon.â Carmen whispered gently, shaking his head at you. âYou know I would do anythinâ.â He pressed a kiss to your head, looking down at the small kitten before he left.Â
âI think he likes it?â You whispered, on your stomach next to Carmen.Â
It was nearly two in the morning, the two of you just returning back to the brownstone you called home. Lying on the freshly laid tile of the kitchen, you watched the small cat explore the space.Â
âYeah, think heâs gettinâ used to it.â Carmen muttered, shaking the small stick so the feather danced over the kitten, grinning when heâd scrunch and bat at it clumsily.Â
You pressed your head into your hand, watching the kitten prowl, ears finally perked up instead of flat back in fear. âWe have to name him.â You blinked, looking up at Carmen.Â
âYeah,â Carmen grinned. âYeah, that-that would be a good idea, right?â He beamed playfully.Â
You smiled, gently petting the kittenâs back, smiling at how he arched into your touch. âI think it should be something kinda with the restaurant.â You suggested. âSince thatâs where we found him.âÂ
âYeah? Like Bear?â Carmen muttered.Â
Your nose crinkled gently. âHe doesnât really look like a Bear.âÂ
âNo,â Carmen agreed, shaking his head. âMore like a Garfield.âÂ
You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. âThatâs such a gimme name.â You shook your head. âMaybe not the restaurant, exactly, but⊠similar?âÂ
âYeah? Like Trash Can?â Carmen muttered, lips curling playfully.Â
You gasped lightly, smacking his leg playfully. âNo.â You huffed. âSomething maybe with food?âÂ
âCarrot?âÂ
âNo.â You pouted lightly, head tilting towards the small cat, occupied with Carmenâs sweatpant strings. âWhat about, like, Anchovy?âÂ
âAnchovy?â Carmen snorted in amusement softly.Â
âYeah, like the fish.â You shrugged softly. âAnd cats eat fish- well, in the cartoons they do, yâknow?âÂ
âYeah, I know, baby.â Carmen grinned softly down at you. âYou think he looks like an Anchovy?âÂ
The small kitten turned, perking towards Carmen, padding happily over to him. Your face lit, glowing with beaming pride and adoration as Carmen scooped up the small kitten, let him rub his face into his chest sleepily- sweetly. You thought you might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sight.Â
âAlright.â Carmen laughed lightly. âThink youâre right. Think heâs an Anchovy.âÂ
âAnchovy Berzatto.â You hummed, crawling between Carmenâs spread legs, petting the tiny cat. You smiled so brightly at Carmen, his own cheeks burned, flaming under your radiant affection.Â
Your lips caught him again, pulling him in for a sweet, longing kiss over the small kittenâs head. Your hands in Carmenâs hair, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him like a lifeline- it made his head swim, chest swell with adoration.Â
Anchovy chirped, teetering on a meow and yawn, little paw stretching in Carmenâs hold. Your forehead pressed to Carmen's, you ducked down to coo at the small kitten, moving to sit in between Carmenâs legs, your back to his chest.Â
Home with your little family, complete with the little kitten, Anchovy Berzatto.
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#anchovy berzatto#richie jerimovich#sugar berzatto#sydney amadu#natalie berzatto#carmen berzatto âx fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmy fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear fic#tina the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto blurb#camren berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto smut#pete the bear#jimmy the bear
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Sherlock Holmes is autistic
- â...he had contrived, with that cat-like love of personal cleanliness which was one of his characteristicsâ. (HOUN) -  âI have [...] an abnormally acute set of sensesâ (BLAN) - âMy friend, who loved above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted his attention from the matter in handâ (SOLI) - âI was never a very sociable fellow, Watson, always rather fond of moping in my rooms and working out my own little methods of thought, so that I never mixed much with the men of my year" (GLOR) - âWho could come tonight? Some friend of yours, perhaps?â âExcept yourself I have none, - he answered. - I do not encourage visitorsâ (FIVE) - â...his disinclination to form new friendships...â (GREE) - âWithout having a tinge of cruelty in his singular composition, he was undoubtedly callous from long over-stimulation. There was no trace then of the horror which I had myself felt at this curt declaration, but his face showed rather the quiet and interested composure of the chemist who sees the crystals falling into position from his over-saturated solutionâ (VALL) Low empathy - âHe was a man of habits, narrow and concentrated habitsâ (CREE) - âHe had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases [...] Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their ownerâ (MUSG) - âHe appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledge â(STUD) - â...never have I wondered at it more than upon that spring morning in Cornwall when for two hours he discoursed upon celts, arrowheads, and shardsâ (DEVI) special interest/infodumping - â'My dear doctor,' said he, kindly, 'pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an abstract problem, I had forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you. I assure you, however, that I never even knew that you had a brother until you handed me the watchâ (SIGN) low empathy - âArrest you!' said Holmes. 'This is really most grati - most interesting. On what charge do you expect to be arrested?â (NORD) low empathy -  âWe were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious researches in early English chartersâ (3STUD) special interest - âMy friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrap-books, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable manâ (3STUD) - âHolmes could talk exceedingly well when he chose, and that night he did choose. He appeared to be in a state of nervous exaltation. I have never known him so brilliant. He spoke on a quick succession of subjects - on miracle plays, on mediĂŠval pottery, on Stradivarius violins, on the Buddhism of Ceylon, and on the warships of the future - handling each as though he had made a special study of itâ (SIGN) special interest/infodumping - âHis studies are very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his professorsâ (STUD) - âHe is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be communicative enough when the fancy seizes himâ (STUD) - 'Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes - it approaches to cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effectsâ (STUD) low empathy - âHe appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledgeâ (STUD) - âHe seized me by the coat-sleeve in his eagerness, and drew me over to the table at which he had been workingâ (STUD) personal space problems - âWith an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw, when Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room, and closed the door behind meâ (REDH) personal space problems - â...his long, nervous fingers tapping upon the arms of his chair...â (DISA) stimming - âHe paced restlessly about our sitting-room in a fever of suppressed energy, biting his nails, tapping the furnitureâ (BRUC) stimming - âHe began biting his nails and staring blankly out of the windowâ (STOC) stimming - âYes, I have been guilty of several monographs. They are all upon technical subjects. Here, for example, is one "Upon the Distinction Between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccos." In it I enumerate a hundred and forty forms of cigar, cigarette, and pipe tobacco, with coloured plates illustrating the difference in the ashâ (SIGN) special interest - â'Well, he's that strange, sir. After you was gone he walked and he walked, up and down, and up and down, until I was weary of the sound of his footstepâ [...] âI was myself somewhat uneasy when through the long night I still from time to time heard the dull sound of his tread...â (SIGN) stimming - â...in his nervous restlessness, he could not sit still, but paced the carriage or drummed with his long, sensitive fingers upon the cushions beside himâ (THOR) stimming - âHe appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the centuryâ (STUD) special interest - âWhen left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening, he would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle which was thrown across his kneeâ (STUD) stimming? - âBut this is my special hobby, and the differences are equally obvious. There is as much difference to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a Times article and the slovenly print of an evening halfpenny paper as there could be between your Negro and your Esquimauxâ (HOUN) special interest - â'You are hungryâ, I remarked. âStarving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since breakfastâ.''Nothing?'' âNot a bite. I had no time to think of itâ (FIVE) eating problems - â...for days on end he would lie upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to nightâ (STUD) a shutdown? - âMy friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiarities that in his more intense moments he would permit himself no food, and I have known him presume upon his iron strength until he has fainted from pure inanitionâ (NORW) eating problems - âBut how do you know that it is hereditary?â ''Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a larger degree than I doâ [...] âHe has an extraordinary faculty for figures, and audits the books in some of the Government departmentsâ. [...] . There are many men in London, you know, who, some from shyness, some from misanthropy, have no wish for the company of their fellows. [...] My brother was one of the founders, and I have myself found it a very soothing atmosphereâ. [GREE] autism run in families - âWe had a pleasant little meal together, during which Holmes would talk about nothing but violinsâ (CARD) special interest/infodumping - âFor two hours the strange business in which we had been involved appeared to be forgotten, and he was entirely absorbed in the pictures of the modern Belgian masters. He would talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest ideasâ (HOUN) special interest/infodumping - âI remember that during the whole of that memorable day he lost himself in a monograph which he had undertaken upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassusâ [...] âAs to Holmes, he returned refreshed to his monograph upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus, which has since been printed for private circulation, and is said by experts to be the last word upon the subjectâ (BRUC) special interest - âKindly look her up in my index, Doctor,' murmured Holmes, without opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not at once furnish informationâ (SCAN) - âSherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of crimeâ (FIVE) - âThe first day Holmes had spent in cross-indexing his huge book of references. The second and third had been patiently occupied upon a subject which he had recently made his hobby - the music of the Middle Agesâ (BRUC) special interest - âAn anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distractionâ (MUSG) - âSherlock Holmes was a man, however, who when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind would go for days, and even for a week, without restâ (TWIS) sleep problems - âThe mere sight of his excellent appetite was an assurance of success, for I had very clear recollections of days and nights without a thought of foodâ (VALL) eating problems - âYou are knocking yourself up, old man,' I remarked. 'I heard you marching about in the nightâ. ''No, I could not sleepâ, he answeredâ (SIGN) sleeping problems - âI do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night, but when I came down to breakfast I found him pale and harassed, his bright eyes the brighter for the dark shadows round themâ (NORW) sleep problems
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Reunited
Part 29
Illumi x Reader x Feitan
part 28
part 30
A/N: this chapter is a little short because itâs at the very end of feitan and readers backstory. I was going to go ahead to the present time but it didnât look good, so I scrapped it. The next chapter will go back to present time!!
warnings: This is not proofread at all đ«¶
taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar @fabitheraven @ashdownunderscorebeloved @astresoleil
if youâd like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart â€ïž, make sure youâre able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DONâT NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)
Two weeks passed by quietly, nights spent staying up late watching movies and anime together.
Feitan was still gone most of the day, but heâd come home for lunch to eat with (Name). He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible while still training his body and nen.
The last week of his stay, (Name) became a lot clingier, her hugs and touches increasing by the day.
Feitan would let her slide for the most part, but being touch sensitive, heâd toss her onto whatever soft surface available to get her away from him. He didnât want to spend his last week with her locked away in his room with a boner.
(Name) was currently crouched in her garden, pulling out weeds and watering the vegetables. It was Thursday, only a few days away from Chrollo arriving.
Or so she thought.
âHello, (Name).â
The girl was spooked, nearly falling onto her her plants, but thankfully sheâs caught by the back of her shirt. âWoah there, careful dear. Youâve been tending to this garden so diligently, wouldnât want to crush them, hmm?â
(Name) turned to see a man smiling down at her, wearing an obnoxiously large coat while (Name) sweater in her tshirt and shorts.
âAre you okay?â
The man blinked down at her. âOkay? What do you mean by that?â
âI mean you are very strangely dressed for the weather. Your chest is out and youâve got a coat on. Would you like a glass of lemonade?â
He smiled, clearly amused. âThat sounds lovely.â
(Name) lead the man by the hand inside, pouring him a cool glass of lemonade and making him a sandwich. âHow did you get all the way out here? You know itâs not safe to wander in the country alone.â
She scolded him, setting a ham sandwich down on the table. He watched her with a patient smile, trying to hold back a laugh.
The girl was as kind as Uvogin had said. Not many people invited strangers into their house for snacks because they were dressed strangely.
âI can walk you into town after my friend gets home. If I leave without him he gets all grumpy. I think itâs because heâs protective, but he wonât admit it.â
She giggled to herself, munching on her own sandwich. Chrollo hummed in response, sending Feitan a quick text to say heâd arrived.
Chrollo took a sip of his lemonade, weirdly enjoying the soft atmosphere of her home. It felt homely, not a house but a home, somewhere people lived their lives instead of staying the night. (Name) reflected her home, her eyes bright and smile wide.
Having only spent a total of ten minutes in her presence, he was beginning to understand Feitanâs attraction to her.
The sound of someone running across the porch caught (Name)âs attention, Chrollo already knowing by their aura who it was.
âFeitan, youâre home e-â
âBoss.â
Feitan took a second to breathe before speaking. âThought you were coming Monday.â
Chrollo shrugged, sipping on his lemonade. âI finished my job quicker than expected, so I decided to come early and⊠observe.â
(Name) tilted her head at the two, looking between them before dropping her sandwich.
âYouâre⊠youâre Chrollo!!â
The man gave her a smile, leaning against the table.
âGuilty.â
Feitan groaned and flicked her forehead. âWhy let him in without knowing? Stupid girl.â
(Name) whined, holding her forehead. âHe looked like he was thirsty⊠and heâs like really handsome.â
She whispered the last part, but Chrollo heard. âWhy, thank you.â
Feitan frowned at her words. âHandsome men kill too, dumdum.â
(Name) crossed her arms. âIâm mostly kidding. He just⊠didnât have a malicious vibe, if you get what Iâm saying.â
That peaked both of their interests.
âWhat you mean by that?â Feitan asked, leaning against the counter. She hummed.
âWell, when I meet someone new, they either have a good vibe or a bad vibe. I can almost feel when someone has malicious intent. I felt it when you saved me from that man that broke in.â
Feitan glanced at Chrollo, signaling that they would talk about this later. âI see, (Name). Thatâs quite interesting.â
Chrollo pushed his empty lemonade glass and plate to the side, (Name) quickly grabbing both and refilling his drink. What a considerate host!
âDo you need somewhere to stay while youâre in town? You can have my bed or the pull out cou-â
âHe can have my bed.â
Feitan waved to his room, folding his arms over his chest. (Name) nodded. âYeah, you can just sleep with me then!â
The shirt manâs face went red and Chrollo just smiled at him.
âOh.â
Thatâs all Chrollo had to say, and somehow it was worse than being full on teased.
âThank you for opening your house up to me, dear.â
ââââââ
âSo, your girlfriend seems like sheâs close to awakening her nen.â
Feitan glanced at Chrollo from his seat on (Name)âs porch, scoffing. âNot my girlfriend.â
Chrollo rolled his eyes. âUh huh. What do you think her nen would be?â
âDoes it matter? She wonât be needing it.â
Chrollo hummed. âHumor me.â
Feitan sighed, watching (Name) swim along the river.
â⊠probably specialist. Sheâs unique. Not like anyone Iâve met before.â
âReally? Is that good or bad?â
Chrollo already knew the answer, just by the way a Feitan looked at her.
â⊠good. Sheâs a good girl.â
(Name) surfaced, yelling out to feitan.
âFeitannn! I saw a fish again!â
âDonât have to tell me every time.â
She pouted. âIâm going to anyways!â
She dipped back under the waves, Feitan snickering at her words.
When (Name) had her fill of swimming, she walked onto the porch, her bathing suit dripping water. âFeitan, did you see where I put my towel?â
She scurried around the porch, bending over to see if it was under the table. Feitan glanced from her butt to chrollo, who was also looking. The shirt haired man stiffened.
ââŠâ
Feitan ran inside and grabbed her a towel, quickly wrapping it around her. âThird time you forget.â
(Name) sighed, snuggling up under her towel and letting herself warm up under the sun. âSorryyy!â
The girl dries herself off, then dropped her towel onto an empty seat. She pulled on her pair of shorts and stepped into her flip flops.
âDo you boys want to go blackberry picking with me?â
ââââââ
(Name) let chrollo borrow one of her shirts, telling him it was way too hot to be wearing that big coat, and if he did just looking at him would make her pass out.
He walked out of her room wearing a black shirt with sailor moon on the chest, seemingly unbothered.
âDidnât know you had black clothing.â Feitan said, carrying a basket in one hand and (Name)âs hand in the other. The path to the blackberry patch was covered in roots and potholes, (Name) having already tripped and scraped her knees twice.
If Chrollo werenât there, he would have just carried her, but he had an image to keep up.
âFeitan, whatâs your favorite color?â
âBlack.â
âAh, of course. Mine is-â
âPink?â
âHow did you guess!?â
Chrollo barely holds back a snicker. When he changed in her room, almost everything was pink, from her walls to the strawberry rug by her bed. Feitan shrugged his shoulders.
âLucky guess.â
Although Feitan tried his best to act like holding her hand was a chore, when sheâd trip, heâd hold onto her, his eyes soft as he steadied her. Chrollo watched this with great interest, his hands in his pockets.
Feitan wasnât exactly the type to help someone, and heâd only ever held another persons hand when absolutely necessary.
âWeâre here!â
The three look out upon a large bush of blackberries, spanning across the woodland. (Name) letâs go of Feitanâs hand to walk forward, humming as she checked the blackberries to make sure they were ripe enough to pick.
âAlright, letâs split up!â
Feitan takes a basket and walks off without another word, knowing the drill by now. Once heâs gone, (Name) loops her arm with Chrolloâs and pulls him away.
âI thought we were splitting up?â
He chuckles when you pout at him. âWe will, I just need to talk with you first.â
âI see. Talk away.â
(Name) set her basket down and began picking berries. âWhy donât we play a game? I ask a question, you have to answer truthfully. Then you can do the same for me.â
This was perfect, Chrollo needed to question her anyways. âSure, but if a question is too much I will not answer.â
âFine with me. First, how do you and Feitan know each other?â
âWe are childhood friends. My turn.â
He crouched down next to her and plucks a berry from her hand, throwing it into his mouth.
âWhat do you remember about your childhood in meteor city?â
(Name) doesnât answer at first, and when Chrollo turns to look at her, his usual confident smirk falls from his lips.
She didnât look angry or sad, she just looked⊠empty.
âI⊠was taken from the residential area when I was three years old. I donât remember a lot, just a nice, but strict man in a⊠church I think? There were other children, but they were mostly older than me, so we never got to play with each other. There was this one girl though, who I remember.â
She placed another berry into her basket before smiling softly.
âSarasa. That was her name. Her face is fuzzy, but I remember she had this fluffy purse and⊠Chrollo?â
The man was staring at her with wide eyes, his hand absentmindedly reaching out to grab her wrist. âSay that name again. Please.â
(Name) glanced down at his hand before answering. âSarasa. Is the name familiar?â
His hand trembled slightly when he pulled it away, running his hands through his hair before he regained his composure.
âIt is. So you knew her, huh?â
(Name) nodded, her smile brightening slightly. âDoes that mean you do?â
He looked down, his smile faltering. âI did.â
The way he said that made (Name)âs stomach turn. She didnât have to ask, she knew that something bad happened.
âWhen I was taken, they⊠they did a lot of things. Most of it has been blocked out, supposedly as coping mechanism. But the things I do rememberâŠâ
Her body began to tremble, her smile becoming a little less effortless.
âYou donât want to know, and I donât want to talk about it.â
Chrollo watched her from the corner of his eye, his jaw tightening. He usually didnât care about people outside of the spiders, but this was someone that had been close to Sarasa, someone that cared about her enough to be shedding tears for her.
âI see. Your turn to ask a question.â
She turned to look at him, wiping away her tears.
âAre you okay?â
Chrollo was taken back by her question, quickly shooting back at her. âWhy do you ask?â
Her hand grasped his, the man looking at her hand quizzically, but not moving away.
âYou seem⊠so tired. Emotionally, and physically. Wouldnât you like to rest?â
This surprised him. âIâŠâ
In so few words the girl had reached into his heart and pulled back the walls he had built up to keep prying eyes out.
Who was she? What kind of power did she possess to make the Head of the Phantom Troupeâs lip quiver like that of a child?
She didnât say anything, just gave his hand another squeeze before letting go.
No tears fell, but for a moment he could feel them welling up in the corners of his eyes. Even in his movement of small weakness, Chrolloâs eyes remained dry.
âLast question.â
(Name) didnât look at him, but gave a nod to show she heard him.
âWould you be interested in joining our band of thieves?â
Sheâs quick to answer, a smile pulling at her lips. âI donât think I would make a very good thief. Iâm slow, and my strength doesnât compare to the others Iâve seen in your group.â
Chrollo laughed. âI see. Is that a no, orâŠâ
âItâs a ânot nowâ. Maybe when Iâve passed the Hunter Exam Iâll take you up on your offer, but for now Iâll stick to being a law abiding citizen.â
She winked, dropping another handful of berries into her basket. Chrollo watched her, taking in the moment. It was quiet besides the sound of birdsong, (Name) breaking the silence by picking up her basket and standing.
âOkay, now we split up.â
She handed him the basket she kept underneath hers and walked off in the opposite direction Feitan took.
âYou hear all that, Feitan?â
The short man stopped using In to hide his presence, walking out from behind the thick brush.
âYes⊠she and SarasaâŠâ
He had the smallest of smiles on his lips. Chrollo nodded. âYeah. Iâm going to do some research to see if her claims are true, but at least from what I could see she wasnât lying. Of course, the truth will come out once she meets Pakunoda.â
Feitan leaned against a tree. â⊠so we meet her again?â
Chrollo raised an eyebrow. âOf course we will. Sheâs your woman, is she not?â
Feitan sighed. It was getting harder to deny the obvious truth.
âNot my woman but⊠mine.â
Chrollo shrugged. âWhatever. Sheâs yours, so make sure you take good care of her. If sheâs telling the truth, she was close to Sarasa, so that makes her an honorary Spider.â
The two went their separate ways to pick blackberries to keep (Name) from getting suspicious. Feitan crouched down, thinking back to the first time heâd met her, before he really knew her.
He cursed his stupid past self, spitting on the ground in annoyance. Feitan had hurt such a sweet girl, and he didnât think heâd ever be able to truly forgive himself.
Even if she did.
ââââââ
âWow, thatâs um⊠thatâs a lot.â
The three gathered at (Name)âs house, the two having come back and forth when their baskets got full.
âYou two were supposed to just fill a single basket, not several.â
She looked over her counter to see it covered in baskets and bowls of blackberries.
âGot more so you sell them.â Feitan replied, popping one into his mouth.
She giggled, pulling the basket heâd been snacking on away. âDonât eat too many, youâll get a tummy ache.â
He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again. Chrollo didnât know the last time heâd seen Feitan this relaxed, if ever at all.
âIâll go and wash some fresh sheets for you. Feitan?â
He looked up.
âYouâve got a littleâŠâ
She swiped his cheek with her finger and stuck it in her mouth. âBlack berry juice on your cheek.â
Feitan stared at her with his mouth parted slightly, unable to speak.
Chrollo pretended he wasnât paying attention, his nose buried in a book, but heâd caught Feitanâs face flush. He smirked from behind his book.
ââââââââ
The next few days passed quickly, the day for Feitanâs departure finally arriving. (Name) woke up early to make a big breakfast and prepare lunches for the two to take with them.
Sheâd promised chrollo as much jelly, jam, and syrup as he could carry, which according to Feitan was a lot.
She and Feitan had been sharing a bed again, the man following her to the kitchen to watch her cook.
Heâd been clinging to her side all morning, holding onto the sleeve of her shirt as she walked around and gathered ingredients. She found it cute, so she didnât say anything.
âFeitan, Iâm going to miss you.â
He gripped the sleeve of her shirt tighter, not able to meet her eyes.
âMiss you too.â
Her eyes widen slightly. For Feitan, that was basically telling her that she was someone he cared about.
âAww, Fei!â
She pulled him into a hug, peppering kisses on his cheeks. He didnât pull back, but he did stiffen and grip her shoulders. Taking her affection was getting easier, but it would always make his heart race and his palms sweaty.
âUsed nickname.â
(Name) hadnât even noticed. âOh, Iâm sorry, I didnât even ask-â
âItâs okay. You can use it.â
His eyes were soft, cupping her cheek as he stared at her lips.
Feitan wanted to kiss her right now, to have a memory of her lips on his before he was gone for god knows how long.
âUm, should I leave you two be?â
At the sound of Chrolloâs voice, feitan was across the kitchen in less than a second. (Name) blinked, then tilted her head. âLeave us be? Why?â
Feitan held a hand over his chest. Had he⊠almost kissed her? Heâd been so close to her lips meeting his, just about to close the gap in between them before Chrollo interrupted.
And for that, he sent Chrollo a glare.
She exchanged numbers with Feitan before he left, promising to send him pictures of the kitten as she aged.
And that was that.
#x reader#anime x reader#headcanon#requests open#reader insert#smut requests#hxh x reader#hxh imagines#hxh illumi#feitan x reader#reunited illumi x reader x feitan#reunited illumi x reader#feitan#hunter x hunter feitan#feitan porter x reader#hxh feitan#feitan portor#illumi headcanons#illumi x reader#illumi hunter x hunter#illumi zoldyck#illumi x you#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter x reader#hunter hunter#hunter x hunter headcanons#hunter xhunter#hunter x hunter chrollo#anime x chubby reader#female reader
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ౚৠwhat their bedrooms would look like...
send a request!âmasterlistâtaglist applications
FEAT... thoma, tighnari, venti, diluc, itto (+shinobu)
A/N... this is modern au!
⧠thoma.
i feel like thoma would actually have a really messy room, despite being the best cleaner known to man. with him being so busy polishing the floors of the kamisato mansion until they practically shine - not to mention the countless chores and errands he runs - it's almost impossible for him to catch his breath, leaving him absolutely exhausted by the time he throws himself onto his bed. it's almost ironic how he has cleaning supplies neatly lined up on his dressing cabinet collecting dust.
furthermore, a problem arises. thoma isn't the type to be able to say "no", therefore i think he'd probably end up with people coming over to his apartment. his more-than-messy bedroom, along with almost every other area of the apartment, means he and his visitor(s) are confined to the kitchen and living room, which - unfortunately - are not separated.
however, it could also be the complete opposite. with thoma having speedily completed all of the "assignments" set for him that day, he may find himself roaming the streets with nothing to do. after running around the city day after day, nothing seems new to him anymore, causing him to resort to cleaning his apartment searching for some form of entertainment.
⧠tighnari.
now, obviously, tighnari would have a lot of plants throughout his house, whether they're sat in pots upon the windowsill, or hanging precariously from the ceiling by a few strings. however, despite the countless amounts of greenery, his small home is perfectly clean; not a fallen leaf in sight. a stray petal spotted by him has no chance of survival, and would immediately be thrown into the composter along with any other scraps he finds.
he would also have a large garden surrounding his cottage-like house, with an abundance of greenery including trees, countless breeds of flowers, and even his own little veggie patch that he uses to grow not only vegetables, but herbs too.
towards the back would be a greenhouse, full to the brim of exotic and rare plant breeds which he often buys abroad. he keeps them there to study them, refusing to use the internet for information and relying purely on his own knowledge and the countless books he has in his basement-library. the amount of books he owns is so great, he would have to stack them besides the "library" door, leaving his home looking quite messy, but he doesn't seem to mind; he's a strong believer in "organised mess".
⧠venti.
i don't know if this is slightly random or strange, but in my mind, i think venti would make an excellent weather broadcaster; he has a strong passion with the wind, as well as a somewhat special connection, and so i think it's actually quite fitting.
in his room would be covered in charts, showing different areas of the world and little diagrams along with them of weather tendencies, levels of rainfail, and more; it wouldn't be much of a surprise to see multiple globes in his home either. despite not actually providing the information, venti wooul still enjoy studying the topics he speaks about, explaining the stacks of factual documents on his desk, facing the window of course so he can gaze out of the window and observe the beauty of mother nature's sky whenever he pleases.
in the far corner of his room, the spot in which the sun shines in the late afternoon, is a stool, his lyre sitting atop it. though it is an uncommon instrument to play, venti is more than just passionate about it's beautiful melodies, the way the strings vibrate to the perfect pitch every time, blessing the ears of those who walked by his window.
⧠diluc.
even in the real world, diluc still has a passion for the art of brewery, this hobby being so apparent that he would have his own "bar" in the basement of his home. he would have loved to take his love for brewery even further and turn it into his job, but in order to help provide for his family, including his partner, 2 children, and 3 cats, he needed a better paying job than a barista, and so ended up with an office job. as boring as it may be, he truly believes it's worth it.
his family's home would be of an average size, small enough to be homely, large enough to be comfortable. the kids would have their own rooms, though they wouldn't be massive. he and his partner would share a bedroom, as well as a bed, which would always be kept tidy by his obsessive nature for cleanliness and organisation, though a little clutter won't bother him.
i think it would be quite a basic home, what you'd expect for a modern day family, though there would be little relics spotted around the house, usually framed or kept in protective glass cases, that he'd taken an interest in over the years.
â§â§ itto. (+shinobu)
itto would 100% be a drummer. don't even ask me why, he just is. he would have quite a worn drumkit in the corner of his bedroom, which somehow withstands his passionate beatings for hours on end (put your dirty mind away); proving him to be not only a professional drummer, but also a professional upstairs neighbour, or just neighbour in general. practically all the apartment building can feel the vibrations of his rhythmic drumming, none of the inhabitants necessarily enjoying his musical outbursts.
his love for beetles still carries through to the real world, as well as his passion for the strength of geo. these likes of his are represented throughout his apartment, with beetles molded from stone scattered as decorations; the sizes, colours, and shapes ranging massively. he often volunteers at the local scouts club during the summer to take the children into the forest and (attempt to) catch bugs together.
shinobu, arguably his closest friend, shares the apartment with him, as well as the interest in music. her room is on the other side of the apartment, containing a wall dedicated to guitars (electric and acoustic) and basses. it isn't rare for the two of them to have recording sessions together; they are in a band together, after all.
thanks for reading ⥠want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!
© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own
#genshin#genshin headcanons#headcanons#thoma#thoma headcanons#tighnari#tighnari headcanons#venti#venti headcanons#diluc#diluc headcanons#itto#itto headcanons#shinobu#kuki shinobu#shinobu headcanons#kuki shinobu headcanons#.typingptera
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the parent trap
CHAPTER ONE: prologue
Across the world from each other, two very different families help two very similar boys pack their bags.
Seven Pembroke Lane was not a home particularly accustomed to chaos.
Indeed, any passerby who would happen to peek into the window of the right side of the duplex bedroom that overlooked Pembroke Lane, London, England, likely would not see anything amiss.Â
A bed unmade, the only spot of mess in a spotlessly tidy room; a suitcase on top of it; a closet cracked open; a man in a suit folding clothes, another man in a suit frowning down at a notepad, an old man with his face hidden behind a newspaper, and a young boy rifling through his dresser.
But in the world of the Jameses, this passed for very chaotic indeed.
For Roman James, aged 11, for the very first time in his young life, was going abroad for the first time.Â
Alone.
Not entirely alone, naturally; there would be other children at Camp Walden for Boys, likely all eager to spend eight weeks away from their own overbearing parents, and camp counselors to supervise them all.
But Roman knew none of them. So he was quite anxious that he would be very alone indeed.
All three of his guardians were not particularly helping matters, though they were certainly trying to.
âLetâs run through my list again, shall we?â says the man who has been frowning down at a notepad and thoughtfully editing itâand the contents of the suitcaseâfor the better part of a fortnight.
âHang on!â Roman says, seizing a crumpled, ripped photograph and tucking it hastily out of sight from three pairs of supervisory eyes, grabbing something else as cover, and rushing over to his suitcase. âAll right, now that Iâve gotâermâmy jumper.â
âA jumper?â Romanâs father says, frowning. âDarling, itâll be summer. Itâs quite a bit warmer there than it is here. I doubt youâll need it.â
âWhat if it gets cold on the plane?â Roman protests. âOr at night! It gets cold at night, Dad.â
âA jumper is on the list, Janus,â Logan, Romanâs uncle (to be precise, Dadâs cousin and Romanâs first cousin once removed) says, tapping his pen against the notepad.
âOh, all right, all right,â Dad says. âGive it here, then, Iâll fold it for you as you go over the list, go on.â
Roman, happy to have it off his hands, promptly passes it over as he tucks the photograph up his sleeve; a magic trick learned from his cards-loving grandfather.
âVery well,â says Logan, adjusting his spectacles on his nose. âMinerals?â
âCheck,â Roman says, pointing.
âVitamins?â
âCheck.â
âList of your daily fruits and vegetables?â
âCheck, check.â
Logan arches an eyebrow. Roman grins up at him.
âCheck for fruits, check for vegetables.â
âSunblock? Lip balm? Shampoo, conditioner, body wash? Insect repellent?â
Roman punctuates each with a nod and a point.
âAmerican dollars for you to get snacks at the airport, stationary, stamps⊠photographs of your father, grandfatherââ
Roman begins rifling through his suitcase.
âAnd uncle,â Dad adds.
âOf course,â Roman says, holding up a modest stack of photographs; if one looked very closely, they could see a ripped scrap secreted out of a sleeve and tucked carefully between an image of Grandfather reading the newspaper in the study and one of Uncle Logan absorbed in a novel.
âClothesâthat, we checked yesterdayâraincoat, wellies, trainers, socksââ
ââaccessories, including rings, bracelets, bracelet-making supplies, and earrings,â Dad says, reaching out to gently tweak his sonâs ear, pierced to match his own, done on an outing on Romanâs most recent birthday the prior October.
â⊠all right, I think thatâs everything,â Logan says.
âNot quite,â Grandfather says from the corner, tucking away his newspaper and pulling out a plastic-wrapped little box with a red bow on top; Roman laughs, recognizing the size and shape on sight.
âA spanking new deck of cards,â Grandfather announces, depositing the box into Romanâs hands. âPerhaps youâll actually find someone on the continent who can whip your tush at poker!â
âWell, I doubt it,â Roman says with an absolute lack of modesty, taking it and tucking it carefully between the photographs and pillbox with minerals, vitamins, and minor fixes for every possible malady he could contract. âBut thanks.â
âNow, you remember,â Logan says. âIâll be taking you all the way to the gate to drop you off, but if you change your mind about wanting me to come pick you up and fly back to London with you, Iâll only be a phone call away.â
âIâll be fine,â Roman says, trying to inject his voice with a bravado he cannot quite muster up to actually feel.
âIf youâre sureââ
âI am,â Roman says. âThanks, really. But itâll be all right!â
He closes the suitcase with a solid sense of finality.
âAnd youâve all promised to write,â he says, pinning each James with a stern expression he hopes does Logan proud. âYouâll have to tell me every little thing that happens around here, especially anything new!â
âI doubt thereâll be much new here,â Logan says. Roman attempts to make his expression even more stern.
âBut yes,â Logan amends, âof course weâll write.â
âOf course!â Grandfather echoes.
âItâs only eight weeks,â Dad says, smoothing a hand over Romanâs freshly trimmed hair. âNot that much can change in eight weeks, my darling.â
Roman gives him a look that says he very much doubts it.
â
Parker Knoll in Napa, California, was very much accustomed to chaos, and if any passerby had managed to traverse the miles of greenery and grapevines to peek into the topmost window of the bedroom that overlooked the Parkerâs personal backyard, they would absolutely know it.
âRemus Parker, where on earth did you put the sunscreen? I just brought it in here not ten minutes ago!â
âAw, Virgil, how should I know?â protests the half-visible Remus Parker in question, aged eleven, who has squirmed under his bed up to his waist. âWeâve been chucking everything I own into that duffle for hours! Ask Pa!â
âThis room is a black hole, I swear to God,â Virgil mutters, rolling his flannel up his elbows and putting his hands on his hips, surveying the mounds of dirty clothes, discarded books, empty water bottles, and various tchotchkes. âIf I were a bottle of sunscreenâŠâ
âOops, sorry, Virgil! Remus is right, I know where that wentâhang onââ
The father in question buries his arm up to the elbow into the duffle before emerging triumphant. âAlready packed!â
âOkay, well, put it back, thatâs one thing done,â Virgil sighs, before pinching the bridge of his nose. âWhy did we leave this to the day before?â
ââCauseââ
âNo, not you,â Virgil says, pointing to Remusâ lower half. âI know why you didnât start packing early, packrat, Iâm talking to your procreator.â
âHeâs leaving tomorrow?â Pa says, his eyes immediately beginning to well up with tears.
âThatâs why,â Virgil sighs. âThe crying. Thatâs why.â
âFor eight entire weeks?!â He continues, rapidly choking up.
But Pa is rapidly distracted by what would be a crying moment by the intrusion of a well-loved, four-legged creature bounding into the room.
âSammy!â Remus yells, wrapping his arms around the golden retrieverâs middle and promptly attempting to haul him up onto the bed, into the duffle; Sammy, well used to such antics, simply hops up onto the bed. Remus, undeterred, yanks open his lime green duffle bag as wide as it will go.
âNo, no, you are not bringing Sammyââ
âBut Sammy would be so useful at summer camp!â
âGive me one reason how Sammy would be useful at summer camp, instead of staying here where he has tons of food and land to run around on and people to play with him that he knows and likes,â Virgil says, his hands on his hips.
Remus wavers from where heâs trying to zip Sammy into the duffle without pinching his tail.
â...homesickness,â Remus decides.
âOh, you are notââ
âHomesickness,â Pa says, his voice cracking with the emotion of his baby boy potentially experiencing homesickness, pressing his fingertips under his eyes in an attempt to stave off tears. âOh, Remusââ
Virgil pins Remus with an expression that says look what youâve done. Remus attempts to communicate what Iâve done, whose idea was it to send me off to summer camp for eight weeks in the name of social enrichment?! The one crying! but he probably isnât as successful.
âAw, Pa,â Remus grumbles as Pa pulls him in tight for a hug. Remus rolls his eyes, mostly as a show for Virgil, but he doesnât make any movement to break away from it.Â
He canât help it if his dad gives the best, tightest, warmest, most affectionate hugs ever. Whatâs he supposed to do, not savor it? He takes pride in being a little freak of nature, but heâs not that much of a freak.
âYou donât have to go if you really, really donât want to, kiddo,â Pa says, taking a moment to ruffle Remusâ hair, upsetting the white streak heâs been religiously maintaining despite his otherwise general aesthetic of unkempt ruffian-ness since his birthday the previous October, before he lets go.
âI do wanna go,â Remus says. âSeriously. I mean, where else am I gonna be able to canoe and fence and learn how to use tie-dye in the way thatâs gonna stain the most clothes and play poker andâ?â
Paâs lip is still wobbling.
Remus decides itâs time for a failsafe in how to keep sincerity away from him. So he guides his fatherâs hand to Sammyâs soft, thick fur.
âPet Sammy,â he orders. Pa obligingly begins to pet Sammy, laughing a little as Sammy tries to lick the tears off his face.Â
Remus tries to smother a grin at the sight and so returns to attempting to fit his entire body under his bed.
âVirgilâs rightâSammyâs gonna stay here because youâre gonna need him, clearly, Iâm going to do just fine at camp,â Remus says, then, under his breath, âoh, I know I left it down here somewhereââ
Pa snuffles, but pets Sammy. Virgil narrows his eyes in suspicion.
Remus interrupts by popping out from under his bed with an old, tin lunchbox, slightly ajar, clutched tightly in his hands. âFound it!â
âFound what?â Pa asks, thrown off his impending crying jag by an immediate sense of well-earned parental suspicion.
Remus grins up at his father, snapping the lunchbox shut before anyone other than him can get a peek of half a photograph sitting on top of the pile of contraband. âStuff.â
âDo I want to know?â Virgil says wearily.
âProbably not!â
âThen I wonât ask,â Virgil mutters. âPatton, youâre the one whoâs dealing with it if the counselors call because Remus tried to blow up a cabin.â
âYou think I could blow up a whole cabin?!â Remus cries out, clearly flattered. âJust with a measly little lunchbox?â
âNo blowing up cabins,â Pa says hastily, reaching out to fondly chuck his sonâs chin. âNo blowing up anything, for that matter. Like you said, theyâll have a lot of stuff for you to do that doesnât involve mass destruction.â
âAll right,â Remus says, leaning his chin down onto his fatherâs fingers with as much force as he can manage. âFine, no mass destruction.â
âIâll hold you to that promise, squirt,â Pa says, pressing a kiss to his forehead, even as Remus groans and squirms and promptly tries to wipe off his forehead, as if ridding himself of any essence of genuine sentimentality.
âIâm sure Iâll be able to cause plenty of trouble without resorting to mass destruction.â
âThatâs what weâre afraid of,â Virgil groans wearily, reaching out to calmingly pet Sammy for himself.
masterpost | next chapter
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AAAAAAAA IâM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! :DD THANK YOOOUUUUU
HDBFGJD YES WE SHALL BEAT UP BEETHOVENâS DAD TOGETHER đđ„ And phew, Iâm glad I was kinda right about there being kids mncvbmfg-
And yes, Beethoven and MC as friends!! đ He would absolutely dedicate a piece to them- Heâd probably title it something like âThe Beginnings of Friendship: Bagatelleâ
I was cackling reading your commentary- I love your enthusiasm!!
Ngl, I was supposed to stop there at the dialogue pieces for Beethoven, but then I accidentally stumbled upon character cards for Ikevamp characters⊠And you know what I had to do đ§ Yeah, I made a whole mock character card for him- (Only in text though- I donât have any editing programs-)
~~~
Ludwig van Beethoven
The Fiery Maestro
Intense and emotional, the prodigy began playing in public at seven years old. He usually spends his days in the mansionâs garden or music room, thinking of new melodies. Despite his hot temper and sharp tongue, thereâs a sense of loneliness hidden in him.
Birthday: December 16 [Fun fact: We actually donât know the real Beethovenâs birthday,, he was baptised on December 17, so itâs generally assumed he was born the day before.]
Height: 162 cm
Occupation: Composer, freelance musicianÂ
Hobbies: Hiking through nature, billiards, card games
Dislikes: Dishonesty, lying
Specialty: Musical improvisation
Weaknesses: Cooking, math
Favourite food: Macaroni and Cheese
Hated food: N/A (Food is little more than sustenance to him. He doesnât really care for it; if somethingâs meant to be edible, heâll eat it. Though, he does prefer more simple dishes)
Vampiric Type: Lesser Vampire [Iâll be honest, Iâm not sure whatâs the deal with vampiric types, so Iâm kind of going off of what Iâve read and pure vibes-]
âTo tremble in my music is your honour.âÂ
~~~
Ikevamp Beethoven đ€ This Clavis Ikepri fellow
-Makes the most horrendous soup known to mankind
Jhbdfg But yeah!! Beethoven is straight up a horrible cook,, I actually made a mini scenario based off of this; One time, he was assigned to make dinner for everyone, and uh⊠The results were less than optimal- Beethoven spent almost two hours in the kitchen, huddled in front of a stove wearing a blue apron, and dinner was served. He made soup, which Doyle later could only describe was âmore suited for charitable scraps given to dogs outside taverns.â The beef he did was half done, better suited for an animal. Vegetables floated in the âsoup,â which was a mixture of water and grease, and the roasted meat looked like it was done in the chimney.Â
Of course, no one could say anything about it, because if they did, Beethoven would literally, viciously, mercilessly tear them apart, mostly verbally. (The last time he got really angry, he stormed off to the music room, banged on the piano for like thirty minutes [creating the loudest half hour of everyoneâs life], and six piano strings were broken as a result.) So they just kept their heads low and tried to eat. They couldnât do it. It was barely possible to even choke down a few bites, so they just stuck to the bread and fruit he provided.
He was never assigned to cook dinner ever again.
Vincent, about Beethoven: Whenever I hear such a man march behind me, I canât help but get nervous. Heâs a force to be reckoned with, for sure!
Doyle, about Beethoven: I like his music, no doubt about that. But, it seems like he conducts his music better than his own temper.
Oh, and one more thing about Beethoven!! You know how Beethovenâs speciality in musical improvisation? Thatâs not an exaggeration- Both the Ikevamp Beethoven and the real figure are actually really good at it-
[Note: Yes, this is based off an actual event]
Beethoven: Daniel Steibelt? âŠHah! I havenât heard that name in a long time. Yes, I remember him quite well. He once challenged me to a piano duel, where we both had to improvise.Â
MC: An piano duel?
Beethoven: Yes, though, to be more accurate, they were improvisation contests. These contests were a popular form of entertainment in Viennaâs aristocracy. One nobleman would support one virtuoso pianist, another nobleman would support the other. In the salon of one of the nobles, the two pianists would compete with each other, each setting the other a tune to improvise on, and the playing would go back and forth until a victor was decided.
Beethoven: But I digress. It was agreed that Prince Lobkowitz would sponsor Steibelt and Prince Lichnowsky would sponsor me. The improvisation contest would take place in Lobkowitz's palace.
Beethoven: Steibelt played first. He went to the piano, tossed a piece of his own music on the side and played. Steibelt was renowned for conjuring up a âstormâ on the piano, and I must admit, he did this to great effect. He received great applause, and it was my turn to play.
Beethoven: I picked up the music piece Steibelt tossed aside, his own work, and then I turned the paper upside down. I played that piece, sight-reading it backwards and I improvised, imitating and picking apart Steibeltâs so-called âstorm.â I played for more than an hour, and I didnât notice that Steibelt left after only thirty minutes of my playing.Â
MC: He left before you finished?
Beethoven: Indeed. After he left, Prince Lobkowitz, the man sponsoring Steibelt, then said to me that he was so humiliated that he would never set foot in Vienna again as long as I lived there. What a foolish thing to promise.Â
[And ngl, it was kinda foolish! Beethoven lived in Vienna for the rest of his life, and true to his word, Steibelt never returned. Oh, but Beethoven actually played the first four notes of Steibeltâs piece before varying them⊠Those four notes would then become the impetus that drove Beethovenâs Third Symphony. That feels like rubbing salt in the wound at that point,,]
Jackdaw Anon đŠ
HAHSGFDH OFC I DID YOU PUT SO MUCH WORK INTO EVERYTHING YOU DO ITS SO ADMIRABLE :(( I WISH I COULD EXPRESS HOW EXCITED I FEEL EVERY TIME I READ THROUGH YOUR STUFF HSAGDFHASGD
beethoven's dad is gonna catch my fist in his mputh RAHHHHH
âThe Beginnings of Friendship: Bagatelleâ SSOUNDS SO FANCY :((( TAHTS SO KIDN OF HIM HELLO!!!!!
HE LIKES HIKING!!! HES SO REAL FOR THAT OMG and his weaknesses being math is so real.
PLS THAT SLITERALYY HIM EXCEPT CLAVIS DOES IT ON PURPOSE. EVERY BAD INGREIDENT IS INTENTIONAL ITS SO BAD. poor residents though :((( LIKE SORRY BEETHOVEN BUT ISAAC DESERVES GOOD FOOD GHSDFAHSDFAS
BEETHOVEN KICKED HIS ASS DAMN,..,., MUSICAL DUELS ARE ALSO SO FUNNY TO ME BECAUSE IT SEEMS SO DRAMATIC AND FUN LIKE??? two guys absolutely smashing the keys of a piano to figth each other is hialrious i want to wathc it so bad GAFSDHGASD
why are musicians so petty HEKPLP
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Hospitality
He came to town one day
stepping out from the mist
A man without a job or name
From a home that did not exist
Offering to make a deal,
To bargain for his supper.
But after every meal,
Our town grew little smaller
Anna made an offer first:
Tired of the farm and dirt,
Of hot days and endless thirst,
Anna wished to no longer work.
She gave him only scraps,
food too old to eat
and when she stood, she collapsed
to find she had no feet
Andrew made the second try
He wished for endless wealth
everything else would follow:
love, security and health
He offered a meal heâd burned
Never being much of a chef
So all the wealth he earned
Was insurance from his familyâs death
I offered the final meal
Before anyone else could proffer
And only made my deal
So no one else would suffer
To the man I served a simple dish
Of vegetables, bread and game
But good enough for a single wish:
To wish heâd never came.
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~ đž Cherry Blossoms Over Wano Event đž ~
Sfw ~ Sanji x F! Reader ~ Food for the Kids of Ebisu
tw: spoilers from Whole Cake Island. A little angsty. Super fluffy đ
wc: 1.8K
Like this event? masterlist đž~
My dear @simp4ace here I am with your request my darling! I hope you enjoy this sweet little scenario of our lovely cook! Thank u so much for your support!! Love u! đžThe request was:
@simp4ace asked: Can I have food for the kids of Ebisu with Sanji please? SFW and with F!reader if it's alright hehe
His golden locks flow with the subtle breeze of Ebisu city, and his smile shines brighter than the sun. Who is that Soba cook? The technique he uses to stretch the buckwheat noodles is strange yet looks as if he was a professional.
Every kid smiles with a big bowl of Soba in their tiny hands, they genuinely do, not because of the SMILE fruits effects, but because they are extremely happy. So many of them have never tasted a simple -yet exquisite- plate of Soba in their life and itâs sad to say probably not even a warm bowl of anything either.
â(Name) you should taste this! It is amazing!â a little kiddo from your town offers you some noodles with his chopsticks. âThank you, sweetheart! Donât worry, eat them all! I will get one for myselfâ you tell him, because even if the poor little child was famished, he was sharing his portion with you.
You keep walking over the arid and inert soil of your city that once was green and full of flowers, towards the Soba stand of that benevolent man who keeps cooking with a smile on his face, giving the kids as many plates as they want for free.
âHiâŠâ you salute him once you are close enough to see his face. Blue eyes like a deep ocean, fair skin, fancy looking brows, but a noble expression that makes you feel safe and warm by just looking at him. âOh⊠hi, mademoiselle! What a beautiful woman you are! Do you want some Soba from my Soba stall?â he offers you, in the most chivalry way possible, and you could swear his eyes got hearts when he saw you.
You nod, because frankly your stomach growls and the scent of such gourmet preparations is making you hungry, really hungry. His soft hands graze yours when giving you a big bowl of soup. He points out that for you, carrots were cut in heart shapes. Truth is, he did the same for every kid, making them surprised and amazed to see vegetables in cute forms.
âThank you so much, Sir. How can I pay you?â you ask, ashamed because of taking some food that might be just for the kids. âYour mere gorgeous presence has made me happy enough, itâs nothing! Plus, it is my duty to feed the starving peopleâ he says, and then again that sweet beams shine its light over you.
You couldnât help but smile too, all of you are used to Kaido and Orochiâs guards mistreating you, asking for huge amounts of beri you donât even have, forcing you to eat scraps and rests and even contaminated water.
âThen Iâll help you here! Can I?â you ask, not only for how grateful you feel but also because you really wanna stay next to him a little longer. His cheeks get sprinkled in a pinkish dust, and his face shows how surprised he is from a girl to ask a simple question. âY-you wanna stay here with me?â he mumbles, amazed.
You giggle, astonished. Why is he saying that as if nobody would like to be next to him? âOf course, sir! I wanna help, tell me what I can do and Iâll begin right now!â
He jolts, perhaps a little offended. âNO. Your soft hands, my lady, cannot be used for this. I donât want you to work! Let me prepare you another bowl and a place to rest where the sun wonât heat your skin and damage youâ
In no time he has put a stall in the shade and somehow you have already a place to eat like a princess. You canât believe how helpful he looks, almost like a maĂźtre. Itâs amazing. âI⊠Sir, thank you⊠but⊠at least, whatâs your name? Iâm (Name)â you ask, ready to dig in the second plate of his delicatessen.
âI am Sanj⊠I mean, Sangoro! Yes, the best Soba cook in Wano!â he informs you, with his hands at each side of his tiny waist. Buts it is fun to say, he was of course lying and no âSangoroâ lived in Wano. But he is helping the poor children, and there is absolutely no doubt he is a good man. Who cares why and how did he get here, the only thing that matters is his heart.
âGlad to meet you, Sangoro! I havenât seen you around Ebisu before, but your presence here feels like a miracle. Many of these kids have perished because of hunger, so you can imagine how a blessing you areâ
He turns around for a second and takes his forearm to his nose. Is he crying? âSangoro, are you alright?â
Glossy blue eye looks at you, eye that hide something painful, a dark past perhaps. âYes, my lady! Iâm a hundred percent fine now that I have your company hereâ he lies, once again. But those are not bad lies, those are lies that have to be said. And itâs ok, itâs fine.
After many of the kids and old people have indulged in the blessing of his Soba noodles, Sangoro feels exhausted, yet he never shows it to you⊠oh but you can see it. âSangoro, would you like to take a walk under the moonlight?â you offer him, realizing that your words had the effect to make his curly eyebrow twitch.
âOf course my lady, Iâll be glad toâ he says, taking his hands to his nose immediately. A little red drop slips through his fingers, and you soon realize he is having a nosebleed. âOh, Sangoro-kun! You are bleeding! Let me help youâ you tell him, taking a little piece of clean cloth you usually use as a handkerchief to his face. Gently you push his hands off his nose and clean the string of red fluid coming out from his nostril.
You give him a sweet beam, those smiles that feel like a healing caress to your soul, without knowing your beauty was indeed the cause of his bleeding. âThere, you must be really tired from working all day Sangoro-kun. Come on, letâs have a walkâ you tell him, grabbing his sweet wrist and pulling from him.
He follows you, stumbling a little. He is not speaking, but only looking at the way your hair flows with the wind and the butterfly hair pin he hasnât noticed until now. Your motherâs gift, a black and white butterfly that looks like it's flying around your hair whenever you use it. You have no wealth, but that is the most precious treasure you hold. And you chose to wear it todayâŠ
After walking into the forest, the side of the nearest pond where the inverted half-moon reflects, seems like a good place to rest. âLetâs sit here, donât you think it is super pretty?â you tell him, as happy as ever. Sangoro, smiles kindly and nods. You donât know if he is not into you or if he is out of words. In any case, you donât mind. You just want to be with him at least for a little more time.
You dip the tip of your toes in the warm water of that pond, playing with some marimo moss balls floating around. âMarimoâ Sanji mumbles and giggles a little as he sits on your side, and then looks at the moon. The silver light bathes his fine profile, from his pointy nose to the goatee on his chin. He looks more like a prince rather than a cook, but who are you to say either way? you havenât seen a prince in your life.
You thought of saying something, but instead, you decided to say nothing. Contemplating in silence his beautiful face had its own lure.
Yet there was something that caught your attention earlier⊠when grabbing him by his wrist you noticed a mark on his skin, as if he had tight bracelets that he recently took off. âCould they be shackles? Was him a criminal? But⊠he looks so nobleâ you think, kind of freaking out since you have taken him to an isolated place with you.
âUh⊠(Name)-chan⊠what a pretty hair pinâ he whispers, pointing at your hair and breaking the mental state you were in. âOh, it was my motherâs gift. It is really pretty, you are right!â you chime, trying to avoid the crippling need to ask about his marks.
But you just canât close your mouth. You canâtâŠ
âSangoro⊠whatâs with your wrists?â you ask, holding his hands softly and inspecting the marks under the white wash of the moonshine. The blonde widens his only visible eye and looks straight into the pond. A much sadder expression invades his face, and some tears form into his eyes.
You, desperately, -and frankly feeling guilty for making him sad- say to him he doesnât have to tell you anything. But he insists, yet, never able to watch your face during his speech.
âSo⊠uhm. My family⊠well not my family anymore, but you know those who are blood related to you. Letâs say I was forced to do some stuff and to avoid me escaping they put some bracelets on my hands, like those collars the celestial dragons use with their victims⊠the exploding ones, you know? I am a chef, my hands are sacred, I couldn't⊠I couldnât lose themâ he says, sobbing.
You tighten your grip around his hands and have the feeling he's talking about this for the first time to someone else since it happened. âIâm so sorry, Sangoroâ.
âActually, my name is Sanjiâ he confesses, now looking at you with a tear running through his cheek. âI knew you werenât called âSangoroâ nobody has a name like that, you know?â you tell him, laughing a little and wiping the tear with your thumb. He giggles, laughing softly in between crying.
You hear for the very first time a sincere laugh from him, and itâs a beautiful melody of pureness and innocence. Something that motivated to take his wrists to your lips and plant two sweet kisses over them. âThank god these hands were savedâ you mumble. Sanjiâs lips tremble, âyes, they were savedâŠâ he beams.
Your eyes fix, and for a second or two none of you said anything. Maybe you just met him, but you felt like you already loved him. And you suspect he is feeling the same way towards you. Is it appropriate to kiss him? you ask yourself, biting the inside of your mouth untilâŠ
An alluring butterfly, with white wings and black body perches on your nose. The cute insect looks just like your hairpin. The image of it reflects in Sanjiâs blue sky eyes and he slowly approaches his index to your nose, allowing the butterfly to rest now over it.
âHiâŠâ he says, smiling warmly at its graceful slow wing motions. You remain silent, in awe until the little cutie flies away.
âSanji⊠can I kiss you kn0w?â you ask, sure this wasnât the most romantic way of saying stuff and owning a playful laugh from the blonde.
âYes, the butterfly said it was ok to do soâ he laughs⊠đđž~
#blackleg sanji#black leg sanji#sanji vinsmoke#op sanji#sanjionepiece#one piece sanji#one piece#cherry blossoms over wano event#sanji x you#sanji x reader#sanji imagine#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji x y/n#sanji x oc#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#kuroashi no sanji#soba mask#stealth black#one piece fanfiction#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#one piece x oc
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The Unbecoming of Elias Bouchard (M, ao3)
After about 1,000,000 years (10 months), my Michael/OGElias fic is finished! Hooray! Enormous shoutout to @blindbeta for doing a sensitivity read (and more, tbh) for me! Check it out here
Excerpt (from Chapter 4):
Some days it was like this:
âYouâre too old to sit like that now, surely.â Michael commented, dropping two tote bags of groceries on the kitchen island and shaking off his coat.
Elias grinned where he was sat at the dining room table, chair turned the wrong way âround, chin resting on the chair back. âCounterculture âtil I die, baby.â
Michael laughed and leaned over Elias where he was now frowning at his Perkins Brailler, trying to remember what his teacher had said about telling the difference between âiâ and âeâ.
âAnd how goes the memoir?â Michael teased. Really, tell the man you feel like Hemingway on the machine one timeâŠ
âIt will be earth-shattering, so long as I can learn to spell my name right. Check for me?â
And Michael did, and then started chopping vegetables for their dinner and Elias turned on the record player and went back to clacking away with his tongue between his lips in concentration. The quiet between them was comfortable as a warm quilt, patchworked with the worn scraps of who they were before, and when Michael walked by Elias to go to the pantry, he trailed a hand over his shoulder and Elias leaned into it, easy as anything.
Elias dug his socked toes into the carpet and inhaled the smell of onion and garlic sauteing in a pan and the soft sound of Michael singing to himself and it was perfect.
Then, other days were like this:
The sounds of Michael pacing his bedroom, rambling to himself, his manic bursts of laughter. Elias knew better than to go in and try to talk to himâthese dark moods were just another part of their life now. Sometimes Michael was still his ray of sunshine, bright and eager to please and then a switch would flip and his laugh would turn mocking, or he would have a short burst of meanness, like a raincloud passing by, there and then gone. It was a small price to pay to get Michael back, to be allowed to keep him. But that didnât make it any easier.
There was a crash that suggested broken glass and Elias huffed out a sigh and flipped to his other side, resisting the childish urge to stuff a pillow over his head. Michaelâthe old Michaelâwould have been much better at this than Elias was, if their positions were reversed. Michael had been much better; how many times had he held and soothed away Eliasâs frantic energy?
Itâs just. They werenâtâwell, Elias wasnât sure what they were and werenât, exactly. They certainly werenât in a relationship, at least not the kind they had been in when they were in their 20s. Elias would say âroommates,â if the thought wasnât so depressing he wanted to fling himself off the roof, but, honestly, that wasnât quite right either.
It felt like living with a total stranger, in many ways, except the total stranger knew a handful of the most important things about you and also you were still, inconveniently, in love with him. Also he was a little bit of a monster.
An enormous thud let Elias know that Michael had flipped over the guest bed again. He should really get up and go to him.
Instead, he groped around the bedside table for his earplugs. For all his growth, he was still a coward.
[don't worry, this has a happy ending :))]
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Baby Steps (A Good Man)
A/N: Hello my sunshines! Iâm back with another little installment of the AGM âverse with our favorite Javi and Dulzura! I love them so much and Iâm glad yâall do too! I hope you guys enjoy! As always, comments and feedback are welcome, and if youâd like to be tagged let me know! Xx
*can be read as a standalone or part of the âverse as a whole*
Pairing: Professor! Javi x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: language, pregnant!reader
A GOOD MAN âVERSE MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
JAVIER MASTERLIST
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
âMrs. Peña?â the sound of your name still surprised you, despite the fact that the students had been calling you for several months now. A grin worked its way onto your face as you looked at the young boy who was watching you with wide, eager eyes. Putting your pen down, you motioned for him to continue, âwill you come outside and play with us?â
âYou want me to hang out with you guys?â you almost laughed at the idea that any kid deemed you worthy of spending time with them, âI thought teachers were lame, Mikey?â
âSome of them, but not all of them! Youâre pretty cool,â he smiled and displayed his toothy grin. How were you supposed to say no to him? You nodded and stood up, taking the hand he was holding out to you, âbesides weâre playing kickball and we need one more person!!â
âI should have known you were just using me for my exceptional skills,â you pretended to be hurt as he pulled out of the building and into the playground, where the sun was shining brightly.Â
Normally, youâd have turned him down, opting to get some work done during the lunch period, but decided you might as well indulge him and yourself. You really enjoyed the kids you had this year, and it was a gorgeous early spring day.Â
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
Turns out, kickball with a bunch of seven and eight year olds was not as simple as it seemed. They seemed to come up with all sorts of nonsense rules, and on top of it all, they happened to be extremely competitive. And yet...you were thoroughly enjoying yourself - and glad you had opted to wear jeans today instead of a skirt or dress. Javi had been particularly fond of the tight, high-waisted jeans that hugged you in all the right places, getting very handsy before you both had to leave for work. Typical Javier; not that you minded of course.Â
âCome on, give us a good one, Mrs. P!â Mikey yelled at the top of his small lungs as you proceeded to kick the ball that was rolled at you. You offered up a firm kick, but not one you would have used if youâd been playing with only adults. Taking unfair advantage was something you definitely didnât want to do.
As soon as your foot made contact with the red rubber ball, you watched it whistle through the air before running to the first base. But...it was over before it started as you ran and then immediately proceeded to trip over your slightly untied shoelaces. You made contact with the hard earth before you knew and rolled your ankle in the process.Â
You landed with a mixture of an annoyed sigh and a loud oof as you chided yourself. You should have made sure they were properly tied before doing anything. The kids clambered around you, faces anxious as they tried to make sure you were okay. Physically you were sure youâd be just fine, but mentally your pride was wounded. Oh, to make a fool of yourself in front of a bunch of children.Â
âIâm alright,â you promised as you slowly rose to your feet; an instant tinge of pain shot through your ankle and leg as you almost lost your balance again. Maybe you were hurt⊠âitâs alright - you guys go back to playing and Iâm going to go back to the classroom and sit for a moment. I might have twisted my ankle.â
They nodded, but gave you wary looks as you hobbled back inside the building. You should have remained the umpire and refused to play; you were obviously not coordinated enough for any of this. Slumping back in your chair, you rolled up your pant leg and hissed at the sight of the already swollen ankle. Shit.
âYouâd better get that checked out,â Anna, one of the teachers from across the hall looked at you with a pained expression, âlooks painful.â
âNothing some rest and elevation wonât fix,â you insisted as you slumped against the back of the chair, âIâm too old for this! When did I become an adult?"
âHey, at least they think youâre cool,â she huffed playfully, âthey never ask me to play! But seriously, that looks pretty bad. And it happened at work, you know how they get about stuff like that.â
âFineeee,â you groaned, âIâll go to the school nurse.â
âI would recommend an actual urgent care or ER visit,â she raised an eyebrow, âbesides, you know how Javi gets - he'll flay us all if he thought we werenât looking out for you.â
âHeâs...something else.â
âHeâs amazing,â she reminded as you nodded in agreement. For how much of a worrywart he could be, you knew it was all out of love, ânow go and get it checked out. Iâll handle getting the sub in and telling everyone. You have enough to worry about. Can you make it okay, or will you need a ride? Should I call Javi?â
âI can drive myself,â you promised, thankful it happened to your left foot and not the right, âIâm not going to bother my darling, overprotective husband just yet. Not until I can confirm that nothing is actually wrong. I donât want him to stress over nothing, and Iâm sure by the time he gets home tonight heâll just be laughing at me and my clumsiness!â
âAlright,â Anna grabbed your purse and handed it to you, as you managed to slink out of the chair, âgo get checked out and feel better. If you need anything at all, just call me.â
âThanks for all of your help,â you hobbled towards the door, trying to keep as much weight off of your foot as possible, as Anna grimaced at you, âI swear itâs not that bad - worse than it looks.â
âSure, sure,â she disagreed politely, ânow quit stalling and go get help!â
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
The white walls and bright lights of the exam room were enough to rattle your nerves, even if just ever so lightly. You sat on the examination bed and tried to keep yourself calm as you waited for the nurse to come back and begin examining you. Nothing but the distant sounds of people outside and the tick-tock of the aging clock met your ears. You almost wish youâd called Javier just to have some company. Shit.
âMrs. Peña?â a kind looking woman, maybe around Javierâs age poked her head in as you nodded, âsorry for the wait, weâre pretty busy right now. Youâre here for a rolled ankle?â
âYeah,â you answered as you relaxed at her comforting presence as she came in and sat on her rolling stool, eyes immediately dropping your swollen and irritated ankle, âI was playing with my kids outside - kickball - and then tripped over my own damn feet and ta da!â
âWere you at home when this happened? Playing with your kids?â
âOh no, Iâm a teacher,â you quickly explained, a warm flush rising up your cheeks at the thought of children, âit was on their lunch break at school. I-I donât have any children of my own.â
You werenât sure why you felt the need to offer up a clarifying statement.
âI see,â she made a few notes before turning back to you, âit looks pretty bad, to be quite frank. Iâm going to assume it wasnât a break, a sprain rather, from how youâre managing, but weâll need to do some x-rays to confirm. Weâll do your blood work as well just to make sure everything is in order. Before we do x-rays or anything - are you pregnant?â
âNo,â you admitted, looking at your feet as you tried not to sigh. It had been on your mind recently, and you werenât sure quite what to make of your own feelings on the matter. While you hadn't been actively trying, you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever happen.
âAny chance you could be?âÂ
âUmm,â you twiddled your thumbs as you shrugged your shoulders, âI-I suppose. Iâm not on birth control and my husband and I donât use protection...weâve been trying but not trying if that makes sense? But my cycleâs been regular so I highly doubt it.â
âOkay,â the scratching of her pen on paper was almost maddening as she was making notes and you just sat there. You could curse yourself for babbling on to her, but you couldnât really help it. Besides, itâd be better for them to know all the details if they were going to x-ray and poke and prod you, âvery good. Let me just go get everything and weâll get started and a better look at everything. Weâll have you set and on your way in no time.â
»»ââââ-ăâĄăïżœïżœâââ-««
âHere you go,â you scratched Stevieâs ears as you offered him a treat, a scrap of carrot from the vegetables you were chopping up for dinner, âwhat do you think, buddy? Should we tell him tonight?â
âShould we tell who and what tonight?â Javiâs voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your knife. You hadnât even heard him come in, ever the sneaky DEA agent as he walked into the kitchen. A smile was on his face as he came over to you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, âhi baby.â
âJ-Javi,â you couldnât help but melt into his touch, despite his surprise arrival, âyouâre home!â
âOh very observant of you, Dulzura,â he teased as he pulled back and started to undo his tie. It was only then that he noticed you werenât wearing what you had earlier in the day; you were in one of his sweaters and a pair of joggers and⊠âwhat the hell happened to your ankle?!â
There it was - Javier switching into overdrive. You put everything down on the counter and turned to him, putting on your most innocent and sheepish expression. His large, warm hands found your face as he looked you over to make sure you were okay.Â
âItâs nothing, Javi,â you promised him, âI swear it. Itâs just a bad sprain, but I went and had it looked at and they wrapped it and gave me pain killers. Itâs umm...a stupid little story actuallyâŠâ
âWhat happened?â he bent down and reached out to tentatively and delicately cheek the binding to make sure the nurse had properly tended to your sprain. He made a small sound of disgruntled satisfaction before standing up and waiting for a proper explanation, âwhy didnât you call me?â
âI didnât want to worry you, Javier,â you promised as he crossed his arms over his broad but acquiesced with a nod, âyouâre so busy, and honestly, it wasnât a big deal at all. Besides, Anna was ready to call you immediately, but I told her not to worry. All that happened was that I was outside with the kids and we were playing kickball and I tried over my laces, fell, and twisted my ankle. It hurts, but no fracture or anything.â
Javierâs lips twitched as he tried not to laugh, his shoulders shaking with effort as he just studied you, âare you....are you serious, Dulzura?â
âDonât laugh at me!â you pouted as he started laughing at your dismal nod when you confirmed that that was what actually happened, âthey thought I was cool and how was I supposed to say no to them!? Iâm the cool teacher to them!â
âAnd look what that got you,â he snickered as you sighed heavily, âIâm sorry - Iâm sorry. As long as youâre okay, thatâs what matters. Whatever you need, just tell me the word and Iâll make sure you have it. Iâll take good care of you, Dulzura.â
âI know you will...you always do,â your heart raced as you tried to decide whether or not to tell him the rest of your revelations. But then he looked at you with those eyes, those soft brown, gentle eyes, and your heart melted. He gently pulled you into his arms as he kissed you again, chasing after your soft, sweet lips with his own, seemingly never able to get enough of you, âJavier, I love you.â
âI love you too,â you felt him smile against your lips, âwhatâs brought on your sudden declaration of love, mi alma?â
âI...Iâm pregnant,â you blurted it out without even really thinking about it. Javier pulled back as a surprised expression crossed his features. He looked at you, seemingly in a state of shock, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, âJavi?â
âYouâre pregnant?â he repeated as you nodded. It took about a moment for everything to finally come full circle as he finally realized what you had said. Immediately, an overwhelming wave of emotion came over you as you felt the back of your eyes start to sting with tears. He grabbed your face and slowly crashed his lips back onto yours and kissed deeply and slowly, âholy shit.â
âI know,â you beamed at him, âthey asked before they did x-rays and blood work and then well...they discovered I was pregnant. I had no clue and then they told me and yeah - holy shit."
âThatâs amazing,â he said softly, âpregnant....â
âI know,â you breathed him in and ran a hand through his dark curls, âIâm not far along, only like six weeks, so itâs still very early, but yes. Weâre finally having a baby, Javier!
âI donât know what I ever did to deserve you,â he whispered as he wrapped his arms around and held you in a tight embrace, âI love you so much.â
âYou deserve this - everything. You are such a good man, Javier, and I am so honored to call you my husband, and the father of my child,â he almost melted under your praise as you traced along his features before resting your hand on his cheek, âI love you, Javi. I am so excited for this.â
âMe too,â he agreed, âthis is everything - you are everything.â
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
3 months pregnant
âDulzura?â Javier yawned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up and found you in the kitchen, peering into the fridge. You were in the mood for...something. You just werenât sure what that something was. Everything sounded good but nothing seemed to satiate that craving you had deep within, âwhat are you doing up?â
âI couldnât sleep,â you admitted, hoping you hadnât woken him up by accident, âand I got hungry. Iâm sorry if I woke you, my love. Go back to bed, Javier.â
âItâs fine,â he insisted as he shuffled into the kitchen and slowly pried you away from the fridge, âsit down, and let me make you something to eat. What sounds good?â
âJavier,â you did as he asked, padding over to the other side of the counter and taking a seat at the bar. You rested your head on your hands as he stifled a yawn, "honey, go back to bed. You're exhausted and you've got back to back classes tomorrow."
"They start in the late morning," he insisted, with a sleepy nod as you just laughed at him. He was such a stubborn man sometimes it drove you crazy - but you knew it came from a place of love and concern, "don't sleep well without you anyways. 's better when you're there."
"Oh, my sweet husband," he reached into the fridge and pulled out some cheese, butter, and your favorite pickled jalapeños. You watched in curiosity as he went to the bread box and grabbed the fresh loaf of bread you'd purchased earlier at the store, "grilled cheese?"
"Grilled cheese with jalapeños," he corrected, a lazy smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. You made a small sound of musing as you realized it didn't sound too bad at all, "and tomato soup, naturally. How does that sound?"
"Sounds delicious," you grinned eagerly as you leaned in to watch him work. You made a small sound of surprise as your stomach rumbled loudly. Apparently you were hungrier than you had thought, "apparently, my stomach and I agree. I think its your daughter that agrees."
At the mention of your baby, Javier paused and smiled, his eyes flitting to your barely visible bump. Some days he still couldn't believe that you were having a baby. You were his wife. What a wild world it was indeed; years ago he'd never dreamed he would have all of this. The Javier that once existed and refused to believe that there was any light in the world could never have pictured any of this.Â
But here you were. Continually proving him wrong. And he loved it all.
"Wait - how do you know we're having a girl?" he asked, suddenly wide awake as he raised an eyebrow at you, "I thought we still need to wait another month or so."
"We do," you grinned at him, "but I just know. I'm sure of it!"
"Well, you do have a fifty-fifty chance of being rightâŠ"
"I have a hundred percent chance of being right," you insisted as you reached over the counter and grabbed the jar of pickled jalapeños and fished a few out, and popped them into your mouth, "don't argue with your pregnant wife, Javier Peña. You of all people should know not to cross someone so dangerous."
He snorted with laughter, suddenly feeling much more awake as he sliced up cheese and turned on the stove, "and if we end up having a son?"
"Then we keep having more until we have a daughter and I am proven right," you plastered on a sweet smile, knowing it would wind him up. You'd never really discussed how many children you wanted or planned on having. It was just a sort of...whatever happens happens type thing. But, if you were being honest, you'd probably have given Javier as many children as he wanted. Your husband fell silent as he watched you for a moment before taking the jar away from, "nothing to add? Silence isn't like you, my love."
"We can have as many as you'd like," he promised, "you're the one doing all the hard work. If you're done after one, then it's fine for me. You already amaze me every day."
"Don't make me cry, Javier," your whole body soaked in the warmth and love from his simple words, "its getting really easy at this point, and you're taking advantage!"
"Sorry," he shot you a wink before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "back to business."
"Hmm," you mused quietly, "I thought kissing me was business."
"I thought you were hungry?"
"Fine," you playfully huffed as he carried on cooking, "Javi?"
"Dulzura?"
"I love you," you beamed at him, the little smile that worked its way onto his face take your breath away - as it always had.Â
"I love you."
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
6 months pregnant
A huff escaped your lips as you tried to reach for the socks and underwear that had fallen out of the laundry basket. It was no easy feat when you couldnât see your own feet anymore. But you were determined to get everything up and off the floor as you walked back towards your bedroom to put away the clean clothes. And you werenât about to give up and ask for help - not yet anyway.
Instead, you opted to awkwardly lower yourself to the floor in order to blindly grab for the discarded items. But it was no use...this was almost harder.Â
âYou alright, Dulzura?â Javier came in and found you struggling, cleaning his dirty hands off on a rag. Heâd been working outside, getting the garden spruced up as the summer slowly came to an end, âcanât reach?â
âI can,â you stuck your tongue out at him as he huffed with laughter, but motioned for you to go on. Wanting to prove that you were right, and werenât completely helpless after all. It hadnât been easy having to give up a lot of the things you used to be able to do with ease as you progressed in your pregnancy. The fact that none of your pants would fit over your belly anymore had been a point of horror for you - it meant you were truly and actually pregnant, you were actually having a baby. Youâd always known, but that had been what made it all extremely real. Every day you got closer and closer to your due date, it all became a little more real. Exciting - but terrifying.Â
Not being able to see your feet had been another blow. You could hardly get proper shoes on anymore, opting for easy slide ons, which were great for the warmth of summer and didnât matter since you were on summer break along with your kids. It was almost as though Javier could sense your frustration, and heâd often silently help you with getting your shoes on in the morning. He never said a word, knowing he didnât have to. He always told you he loved you in so many ways, often without saying it.Â
You tried to again, dangling your hand along on the floor as you tried again. After watching you struggle for a moment, Javier came over and grabbed everything in one foul swoop before taking your hand in his and helping you upright.Â
âHey,â you pouted at him as he put the items back into your basket, âI almost had it!â
âI know,â he kissed the tip of your nose, âbut I wanted to help. Why can I not help my gorgeous wife?â
âYour very pregnant and easily frustrated wife?â you teased as you started to walk towards the bedroom. He followed after you, swatting at your bum as you squealed in delight, âJavier!â
âCome on, mi alma,â he grinned, âlet me help put everything away.â
âIf I let you help, youâre just going to take me to bed and then Iâll have to wash the sheets again!â
âIâve never heard a single complaint from you before,â as you set the basket on the dresser, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before settling a hand on your belly and gently rubbing it a few times. He pressed a few kisses to the side of your neck as you tilted your head to give him easier access, âthere we go, Dulzura. Just like you like it.â
âYouâre the worst,â you teased as you turned your head to kiss him, âyouâre lucky I love you. And Iâm seemingly always in the mood right now - they really werenât kidding about pregnancy making you more horny. Although, Iâve never heard a single complaint from you before.â
âAnd you never will,â he promised, his low in your ear as you tried not to completely let your mind wander too far away, âdo you have any plans for this afternoon, Dulzura?â
âN-no,â you managed to choke out as one of his hands skimmed along the waistband of your leggings. You knew exactly where this was going, and you were loath to stop him, especially as he slowly kept kissing you.
âGood,â he rasped, âbecause I have plans for you. Been thinking about you all day, especially in these tight leggings. You knew exactly what you were doing, didnât you honey?â
âUh huh,â you agreed as his warm hand slipped inside and a shiver ran up your spine, âJavier. Please.â
âDonât worry, mi alma,â he captured your gasp in a sweet kiss, âIâll take good care of you.â
The laundry could definitely wait.
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
9 months pregnantÂ
It was an early, chilling morning as you sipped on some tea as you sat out in the garden. It was probably too cold to be sitting outside, but you were handled up in blankets and didn't care.Â
Christmas was a few weeks away and you enjoyed peeking into the neighbor's yards to see what they all had going on for decorations.
"Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" Javier poked his head out from the sliding screen door, his brow furrowed in concentration, "its freezing! And I have breakfast!"
"I've got blankets and a baby keeping me warm," you reminded him, pointing at your large belly. You were due in a couple of weeks; how time had flown. He jokingly frowned at you, sticking out his tongue. Playfully rolling your eyes, you clambered to your feet and waddled over to him, "fine, hold on you big baby. This is because I want breakfast."
Javier was on his winter break from teaching and you were on maternity leave now and you definitely didn't mind having him around all the time. If you could have always had it this way, you definitely wouldn't have minded.
"I'm just looking out for you," he insisted with a pout as you pressed a kiss to his lips, "I talked to PapĂ . He's really excited to come in a few weeks - more like excited to meet his grandbaby."
"I'm not complaining at all," you insisted, knowing there would be many sleepless nights and chaotic days ahead of you, "we'll need all the help we can get. Hell, maybe we can convince Steve and Connie to come and visit tooâŠ"
"I'm sure we'll have all the help in the world between our families and friends, Dulzura," he promised as he took your hand and pulled you into the warm kitchen, putting a plate of breakfast for you on the counter, "I'm sure we'll get sick of having so many people around."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," you took a bite and smiled as Stevie laid by your feet. The whole house was warm and cozy, perfectly decorated for Christmas, with a huge tree and already lots of presents. Javier had really outdone himself this year, seemingly more in the Christmas spirit than you. Honestly, you were feeling a little bit out of it - being so pregnant would do that to you.Â
You watched your husband for a few moments, admiring his profile and lazy smile. Gods, you were still so in love with him. He felt you watching him closely, and turned to you, cooking a dark brow, "what's on your mind, mi alma?"
"Nothing much," you shrugged lightly, feeling a flush of warmth was over you at him catching you, "just thinking about how I love you, and how I'm glad you're here with me, that you knocked me up, and yeah. Are youâŠare you nervous Javi?"
"About the baby?"
"No, about the Astros' odds next season," you snorted as he groaned at your joke, "of course the baby. I'm just...so nervous. Like I feel ready to meet her, but I'm so scared that I'll fuck it up somehow."
"You still think its a girl?"
"Positive," you grinned at him - you'd decided not to find out the sex ahead of time, leaving it a surprise for both of you. You were still convinced it was a girl, Javier was undecided, "we'll find out soon enough!"
"Either way," he brought his plate and sat down next to you, "everything will be alright. You're going to be an amazing mother, Dulzura. You are everything."
"I love you, Javier," you beamed as he gently put a hand on your belly, "I know it'll be alright, but holy shit - I'm so nervous. Its getting so real lately. We're going to be parents."
"Parents," he repeated, "fuck."
"Who would have thought-" you were quickly cut off when you felt the baby flutter round. A small sound of surprise left your lips as you grabbed Javier's hand and placed it on your belly, "she's telling you not to curse."
He was silent for a moment as a smile spread on his features; despite having felt this many times by now, it still continued to surprise him. He couldn't even imagine how it felt for you, "this is...everything."
"I realized I didn't know what to get you for Christmas so I got you a baby instead," you don't know why it came to mind, but as soon as the words left your lips you brought into a fit of laughter - Javier joined in, a brilliant sound that you adored above all.
"Best Christmas present ever," he whispered before leaning in and giving you a gentle kiss - sweet from the syrup and pancakes he had just eaten, "I mean it. I love you both more than you will ever know."
"We love you too," you grinned as he stroked your belly, "I'm glad your class was the only one available and I took it. I'm glad you were a grumpy professor that let me into his office - I was able to work my magic and look where that got us."
He threw his back with laughter, his dark curls shining brilliantly in the light as his eyes crinkled in the corners. You'd never been more glad for subjecting yourself to his class.
"Me too," he whispered as he put a hand on your cheek, "you always were a stubborn thing."
"Some things never change," you stuck your tongue out at him, "I trust your daughter will be the same!"
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
You were humming to yourself as you shuffled around the kitchen and tried to put together a mid afternoon snack when you felt an odd sensation in your lower belly. It caused you to drop the knife on the counter as you held onto the marble and gritted your teeth. Stevie was at your feet in an instant, looking at you with concern.
"Its okay, buddy," you reassured him as the pain passed. Surely it couldn't have been anything too bad...probably just an end of pregnancy pain. Sighing at your nonsense worry, you reached for the knife again but before you reached it, the pain was back, "never mind, shit shit shit."
Trying to keep yourself calm, you leaned against the counter and tried to even your breathing. Contractions. Of course. You were due in a week and you still hadn't been expecting it.
"Javier?" he was down the hall in the second bedroom that had been converted into the nursery, putting away the final touches of clothing. Before he could respond, you felt an odd sensation followed by liquid running down your legs, "Javier!"
"What's wrong, Dulzura?" he rushed down the hall and back into the kitchen, worry etched onto his features as you stood there in shock and clutched at your belly, "honey-"
"My water broke," you said meekly as you pointed to your wet pants, "and I've had a few contractions - I think the baby's coming."
"Okay," he immediately kicked into gear as he remained cool and calm, despite wanting to panic and worry along with you, "its okay. I'm going to get the hospital bag, we'll get you in the car, Stevie to the neighbor, and then we'll go and have a baby."
"You make it seem so simple," you huffed lightly as you tried to channel his inner calm demeanor, "we'll be okay, right? I-I'm scaredâŠ"
"I know, honey," he promised as he kissed the side of your head, "you've done so amazing already, it will all be okay. I'm right here, okay? I'm just going to grab your bag and the dog and we'll go. Ten minutes and we'll be on the way."
"Okay," you agreed as he practically ran down the hall to get your packed bag, "we're going to have a baby, Javi."
"Indeed we are," he agreed with a small smile as he reached for his wallet and keys and stuff for the neighbor to watch Stevie for a few days, "we're having our baby."
Holy shit.
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
âYouâre doing amazing, sweetheart,â Javier praised you as you squeezed his hand after another push. You groaned and gritted your teeth as you glared at him; this was absolute hell, âthe babyâs almost there.â
âShut up, Javier,â you hissed as you got ready for another push, âI am never letting you touch me again! You did this to me.â
âHey - it was a team effort,â he reminded you in a vain attempt at a joke. Your death glare and the squeezing of his hand said it all, âsorry, Dulzura. I love you.â
âI love you too,â you said as you took a deep breath, âbut right now, Iâm blaming this on you.â
âFair enough,â he said as you pushed again. He was sure his hand was going to break.
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
It wasnât much longer before you were laying back and holding the smallest bundle you could ever imagine in your arms. You were somewhere between crying tears of joy and exhaustion, as you stared at your newborn daughter in awe. Javier was sitting next to you, looking down at her, his own eyes glossy as he gently touched her cheek. She had the darkest eyes and a shock of dark hair, already taking after her father. She had come into the world squealing and crying but had fallen asleep almost as soon as Javier held her.Â
âI told you we were having a girl,â you teased him softly, âI was right. Look at her, Javier. Thatâs our daughter. We made her.â
âYou did all the hard work, mi alma,â he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, âsheâs beautiful.â
âLucia Luna Peña,â you grinned at your husband, âitâs perfect. I love you both more than you could ever know. Javier...you really are everything to me - the best friend, best husband, and now the best father. Sheâs going to love the hell out of you, just like I do.â
He remained silent for a moment as he looked at the sleeping baby before looking back at you. His whole world was in his arms, and the thought of that alone was enough to overwhelm him with emotion. Heâd never thought he wanted this - a âboringâ job, a home, a wife, and a baby.Â
But here he was. And he had never felt happier, never felt more full of love and life. This was everything.Â
âI love you so much, Dulzura - you and Lucia,â he promised as he rested his head on top of yours, âyou have given me everything, more than you know. Te quiero con todo.â
»»ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-««
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In Deep Water, Vic (Ben Affleck) and Melinda (Ana de Armas) have a marriage held together by sex, lies, and yes, snails. So who better to shed light on their complicated relationship than one of the mollusks Vic lovingly tends to in his garage? EW gets the inside scoop from Edgar the Snail (pictured below).
Saturday, March 5, 1:43 a.m. Vic came by late at night â after a party, I think. He smelled of apples and disappointment. He turned on all the lamps and interrupted me and Hortense during a private moment. The water misters were on, which refracted the light, sending a constellation of rainbows in front of Vic's now-smiling eyes. So what if he was intruding? At least we brought him joy. (And Hortense, as we all know, likes to be watched.)
Wednesday, March 9, 6:13 p.m. A few days later, I heard Vic and Melinda stomping around at dinnertime. There was a thump as he threw something angrily into the trash. Perhaps those bodega tulips Melinda came home with earlier? Anyway, while Trixie played "Old MacDonald" yet again, I heard Melinda storm off, probably with her customary bottle of merlot. Then Vic stormed off to meet a friend at a piano bar. You know who didn't storm off? Their overpaid babysitter, because no one remembered to call her to watch Trixie. (Who loves nothing more than this insipid Old MacDonald song which tortures me, though I do not technically have ears.)
Wednesday, March 9, 11:41 p.m. Vic returned a few hours later, smelling of scotch and disappointment. Still, he was considerate enough to help some of my friends who were having dryness issues. He gently held them under a stream of water until they felt relief. It seemed to calm him.
Friday, March 11, 7:02 p.m. Vic came by with that annoying screenplay writer, Don. They smelled of white privilege and disappointment. Vic begins to explain to him how we snails can climb a 12-foot wall to find our mates (I climbed 14 and a half feet for Hortense, but who's counting?). Don asked if he could smoke, but our protector would have none of it: "Please don't, it'll kill them." His loyalty is unquestionable. Don was eager to speak of murder and lie detector tests and a man named Charlie, but the misters came on and sprayed him. We all laughed at his foolishness.
Saturday, March 12, 6:33 p.m. Melinda's friend Tony came by for dinner. I had a bad feeling about him right away. "Nice space you got here," he told Vic insincerely, peeking into our temperature-controlled haven. "Are those snails?" (The powers of observation do not elude him!) Tony is clearly at a loss for words, but it doesn't matter. The look of utter love on Vic's face when he gazes into our tentacle eyes says what words cannot.
Saturday, March 12, 6:45 p.m. Hortense snuck over to the kitchen to see if there were any vegetable scraps on the floor and confirmed our worst fears: Tony, that scoundrel, suggested cooking a dozen of us! As an appetizer! But Vic, as always, was our guardian, our defender, the one thing that stood between us and Melinda's nefarious allusions to "garlic and a little butter." "The snails aren't for eating," he said evenly, keeping his justified rage in check. "Fun fact: You know you have to starve them, right? Before you eat them, you have to make sure their intestines are empty, otherwise, you'll poison yourself and you'll die." Perhaps a worthy sacrifice...
Friday, March 18, 6:45 a.m. Vic left early this morning on his mountain bike. (Why he wears button-down shirts for athletic activities, I'll never understand.) Shortly after, we got the surprise of our lives when Melinda came down to our room for the first time ever! She never gets up this early unless she has overindulged the night before. To our horror, she accidentally stepped on Hortense's cousin, Pam. Who's the murderer now? But she will not pay for her crimes. She never has.
---
With reporting by Clarissa Cruz
Related content:
Deep Water review: An un-erotic non-thriller that's still kinda watchable
You can finally watch the trailer for Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas' erotic thriller Deep Water
Ben Affleck, at the top of his game
Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas' erotic thriller Deep Water pulled from theatrical release
Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas end relationship
By Edgar the Snail
ew. com /movies /the-deep-water-snail-speaks-out
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Fireflies: Morro x Reader
-i was originally writing this on a whim but saw a request and was like, okay this fits PERFECTLY for that request, so here ya go -okay donât judge me but I think Morroâs cool -banc is some random guy i made up just now lmaooo -youâre an elemental master and Morroâs childhood friend because yeahhhh
Summary: Humans are insignificant, tiny beings. Your time is drawing near and youâre sure your life was a waste.
Dreams were powerful. They became the very thing that drove people to the edge. But they were also the very thing that drove people forward, and taught them to keep looking up in the dark. When you were young, you used to wish upon a star. You used to lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling in thought.
Now, you couldnât. Your breaths began to slow, your eyes fluttered open and closed. This was the final blow. Your final stand. Was it really okay to be out here all alone? At least you had the stars and the moon to keep you company. They had lit your way and guided you to your target. If it werenât for those tiny little specks above, you wouldnât have completed the stupid mission.
Sometimes you wondered if things could have been different. Before you left the monastery, you should have given Morro a tighter hug, a longer smile, a bigger laugh. You should have told your sensei how much you adored having him around, how much you admired and respected him for what he did. You should have sent another letter to Garmadon and written about how boring it was without having him around.Â
There were so many things left unsaid. Unwritten. Forgotten. Why didnât you cling tighter to them?Â
â(Y/n)!âÂ
Your breath hitched. Was that...?
â(Y/N)!â
You let out a strangled wheeze. âM-Morro...â The grass parted around you and swished with the breeze. He collapsed by your side, heaving and mumbling under his breath. âWhat happened?â he demanded. âWhere were you?! We captured that guy, but then you just disappeared!â Morro didnât even try to hide the fear in his voice as he ripped his sleeve and tied it around your wounds.
The man you were trying to catch was a serial killer. You thought he was some lowly idiot, but it turned out he had an entourage of killing machines. He experimented on them, and that gave them abilities no normal people should possessed. âMorro...â You winced. âLeave. That guy, he...he has these people who...â
âJust shut up.â His was holding back tears. âYou arenât dying on me, and even if that guy had backup, you bet Sensei wonât have trouble taking them out. Iâm bringing you home, so donât you dare sleep on me.â You intertwined your bloody hand with his. âMorro, please. Go.â He clenched his teeth.
âNo!â His voice came out harsh, but you knew it was good-natured. âIâm not leaving you! Not again.â You turned to stare at the starry sky. What was Morro referring to? Whatever it was felt like so long ago--or was that just your hazy memory? No, you had incredible memory.Â
â(Y/n), stay awake!â
You were sleepy. The stars were beginning to fade, along with Morroâs beautiful eyes glazed over with tears. Fireflies rose from the grass, fluttering past your view in little specks of light. You wondered what it felt like to be so free and insignificant. They had no responsibilities, no nothing save for living.
What did that feel like?
âHey...â you whispered. âRemember that time you...helped me up...after I...after I scraped my knee?â Morro squeezed your hand, but it was like he hadnât at all. Your limbs were numb in pain.
âWhat are you talking about?â he demanded. âSave your strength--â
You laughed and it was melancholy and broken and sad and all the things Morro wished he never heard. This wasnât you. It wasnât what he wanted for you. The sky was blurring in a mix of pale moonlight and scattered dots of stars. You thought back to that day, the one where you had scrapped your knee.
Blood gushed out of the tattered skin. You winced, wishing with bitter regret that you hadnât overstepped your attack. It wouldnât have happened if you were paying more attention, but how could you when Morro was so attractively distracting?
He glanced at you from over his shoulder and paused. âHold on,â he told his sparring partner. You blew on the open wound. Maybe it would help ease the pain, you werenât sure. âFirst Spinjitzu Master, urgh.â
Morro knelt by your side, eyes all soft and warm. âYouâre such a clutz sometimes.â You huffed. âI wouldnât be if you werenât so freaking...â Heat rose to your cheeks, reddening them like apples. There was no way youâd openly admit he made you trip over your own two feet.
ââSo freakingâ what?â he inquired, raising a brow. Your rosy cheeks darkened and Morro let out a bright laugh. âWait here.â He stood and hurried inside the monastery. His sparring partner, Banc, sent you big thumbs up. You rolled your eyes at him and threw your scabbard at him. He easily caught it with a smirk grin.
âWhen are you going to tell him?â
You raised a brow. âTell him what?â
âThat you like him.â Banc said it like it was the mot obvious thing in all of Ninjago, but it wasnât like he was wrong. Sensei Wu saw it, Garmadon saw it, everyone saw it. What a miracle it would be if it was a secret, or at least a quiet thing.
âMorroâs the only one who doesnât realise it.â you muttered. Banc rolled his eyes. âThen tell him! Iâll go insane if you keep your mouth shut for another day.â The Monastery doors opened and Morro jogged out with a wet handkerchief and a bandage. âI donât mean to keep you guys waiting,â he said, âbut this is important.â
âTo you.â Banc jested. Morro rolled his eyes playfully. He knelt back by your side and gently wiped the wound. â(Y/n) could die if the wound gets infected, so itâs important anyway.â You snorted. âA woundâs not going to kill me.â
âIt very well could if one is not careful.â
You turned to look at the open doors. Sensei waltzed out, bamboo staff in one hand and straw hat in the other. His bag, heavy around his shoulders, was big and filled with as much stuff as he could fit. You wondered if it was because of tea or scrolls. âAre you going somewhere?â
He nodded. âIâm afraid so. In the mean time, I hope you all come to realise whatâs hidden under the surface. Whether it be hidden feelings,â he cast you a knowing look, âor personal progression. Keep the Monastery tidy and please donât forget to pickle the vegetables. Iâd hate not to have any pickled radish without my rice.â
You all shared a good-natured chuckle. Morro wrapped your knee in a bandage and turned to glance at Sensei with curious eyes. They sparkled like the clouds in the rising sunlight, just like little nuggets of gold. âWhat do you mean by âhidden feelingsâ?â Sensei smiled warmly. âYou will have to find that out on your own. Iâll be off now, you will see me in seven daysâ time.â
The moment Sensei disappeared down the front steps and Banc had closed the doors tight, silence fell over you three. Banc kept looking at you with that stupid grin of his and you had to admit, it was getting annoying. Whenever Morro turned his back to you, he motioned for you to tell him.
An hour passed, then five and six. The sun began to set along the horizon, and that was when Banc decided it was high time you fulfilled your task.
âMorro,â Banc announced. â(Y/n) has something to tell you.â
At the foot of the mountain, you lay in a large field. Morro was on your right, and Banc on your left. The fireflies that flitted past your vision were as bright as the stars, maybe even brighter. A single one landed on your nose and Morro couldnât help but think about how beautiful you were in that moment.
âWhat do you want to tell me?â he inquired. You stared at the lone firefly, cheeks a dim red in its glow. âUh...itâs...itâs nothing.â
âAre you sure? Banc looks like he wants to yell at you.â he said with a chuckle. The firefly launched off your nose and joined its family in a swarm of bright specks of light.
âOkay, okay. Maybe I do have something to say. Itâs just that I...uh...I...â
A soft smile rested upon your lips. âYou didnât...didnât forget that day...did you?â Morro touched his forehead to yours. His tears glistened in the moonlight and touched your cheeks like a misty morning drizzle. âNo,â he whispered. âOf course I didnât forget. How...how could I?â
You released one of his hands and shakily placed it on his damp cheeks. This was it, nothing else could stop time and save you from your last moments. No magic, no element, no god would or could come to your aid. But that was okay. As long as you Morro stayed right here in these moments, youâd be happy.
Happy. What a funny word.
âI...I donât want to die.â Your voice cracked and Morro didnât ignore it. âI donât want you to die either.â
âWhat...what will...happen when Iâm dead?â Morro heaved in a sharp breath and shook his head. âYou wonât die,â --he chocked back a sob-- âI wonât let you.â That was a lie. Even though he didnât want you to die, how could he save you? Morro was the Master of Wind, not death or resurrection. There wasnât anything to do, no matter what he said.
âWhen...when Iâm gone...promise youâll...move on?â
A look of horror snapped through his eyes, as if he couldnât bear the thought of ever having to let you go. It wasnât what he did. How could he when you were his light, his life? If you hadnât been around, then he would have died trying to prove Destiny wrong.
âI...I love you Morro.â
âI love you more.â He pulled you close into the security of his arms and hugged you tight. âBut please, please donât go.â You smiled again with the last of your strength. It was all you could do when the world was fading, blurring into dots and colours.
You shut your eyes. Your hand went limp.
Morro stilled and tightened his hold on your dead body. Fireflies flew past him in glowing paths of specks. A single firefly landed on your nose, illuminating the dried splatter of blood on your cheeks. In that moment, he couldnât help but notice how beautiful you were.
âI love you (Y/n). I love you more than anything in Ninjago.â
REBLOG so this can reach more people (and therefore support me, the creator!) TIP JAR <---
#morro x reader#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago x reader#lego ninjago x reader#lego#morro ninjago#ninjago morro
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@sidepartskinnyjeans brought in a dealer's choice by suggesting this post as the prompt! Thank you @muffinshark for the beautiful piece and inspiring this little drabble! It's a fantastic post and I'm excited to make something from it đ I hope you all enjoy! đ„°
Date 16 of 28: Cooking Date
| - 15 - | - Prompt - | - 17 - |
"That can't be right," said Bucky, looking down at the scrawled chicken scratch of Titi's recipe, "No. I refuse. That's so much."
"It's not that much," said Sam, dumping the half-cup of molasses along with the one and a half cups of rootbeer already in the pot, turning the stove on to high heat, waiting for the mixture to boil, "You're just saying that because you only got like a handful of potatoes to eat during the depression."
"Look, molasses was big back in the day, it was popular," said Bucky, "You covet that brown gold."
Sam cackled.
"James, molasses was popular up until the 1880s," said Sam, trying to keep an eye on the boiling liquid and not on the ridiculous apron filled with Steve faces, "I know you went to school riding dinosaurs, but you were, like, the Cretaceous period, not the Triassic."
Sam and Bucky had been helping Sarah organize her kitchen when they had noticed a scrap of paper that had fallen behind the refrigerator. Curious, Bucky pulled it out only for Sam to realize that it was Titi's old rootbeer cake recipe, thought to be lost to time.
Well.
It was probably a recipe she wrote down from somewhere, but Sam still thought of it as Titi's.
And despite Sarah telling them that no one wanted to eat a rootbeer cake, they were making one. Because Sam remembered making this cake with Titi on several occasions and he... he just wanted that one more time.
That feeling of being close.
"You're just showing off," said Bucky, Sam seeing the rootbeer-molasses mixture get to a boil, taking the mixture off the heat as Bucky measured out the baking soda, dropping it into the pot as Sam whisked the mixture, "Knowing when dinosaurs existed. Being smart."
"I'm showing off? You're the one who tried to crack that egg with one hand. I see you haven't cleaned that up yet," said Sam, smirking glancing at the egg still very much on the counter.
"So I can't look into your gorgeous Bella Notte coral bells eyes and think 'Man, I just want to impress the pants off of the love of my life'?" asked Bucky, voice thick with charm.
"You know what would impress me?" asked Sam, trying to hide a smile, the mixture he was whisking frothing, "If you clean it up."
"I was getting to it," said Bucky, kissing Sam on the cheek as he grabbed the pot from Sam to place it in the fridge to cool, then getting to actually cleaning up his mess, "Oh, that reminds me. Jurassic Park. On the list of things I'm supposed to watch at some point."
"Date night: Jurassic Park. I'm down to clown," said Sam, pouring gratulated sugar, brown sugar, and vegetable oil into a mixing bowl, about to pour in the vanilla extract when Bucky stopped him, "What?"
"I read about this online. You can replace vanilla with alcohol sometimes," said Bucky, grabbing the cheaper bourbon bottle from the alcohol cabinet and pouring probably too much of it into the mix, "Let's see if that's true."
Sam snorted, mixing the ingredients, the combined mess a little chunky, but he remembered how his titi used to say that was what was supposed to happen.
"Hey. We need the egg that you actually cracked into that bowl now. You know, the one you cracked before you read the instructions," said Sam, snickering as he watched Bucky walk over to the fridge, pulling out the second-try egg that he did manage to crack with one hand and unceremoniously dumping it into the mixing bowl.
"Voila," said Bucky, Sam trying not to laugh at the deadpan as he whisked, everything becoming a smooth, thick paste as Bucky pulled out another mixing bowl, pouring in the cardamom, baking powder, star anise, and flour into the bowl and combining them, "A lot of steps to a rootbeer cake."
"What? Did you think this was going to be easy?" asked Sam, grating in lemon zest and nutmeg, adding salt and pepper to the dry ingredients bowl, "This was a whole thing. My parents would dramatically grumble about what the mess would be as Titi brought me, Sarah, and Gideon into the kitchen to make it with her. She needed... three helpers, you see, and..."
Sam... didn't talk about Gideon much.
Gideon fell off the face of the earth for them. Sam didn't even know what happened. There had been a fight between Gideon and Sarah when Sam was on the run with Steve. When Sam came back from the Blip, Gideon never reached out. Sam and Sarah didn't know if Gideon was even alive.
Sam wished he knew.
But he was very sure that the fight was about him. He couldn't be sure, because Sarah always shut down whenever Sam brought it up, but... Sam was pretty sure.
Bucky wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, the light pressure of their sides touching comforting. Sam leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder.
"I think we're supposed to do one of the more complicated steps now," whispered Bucky.
Sam laughed, wiping away a few tears.
"You're just saying that because you're bad at spatial intelligence," said Sam.
"I'm not bad at spatial intelligence, I hate trying to figure out what a third of a mixture is," said Bucky, but Sam dismissed that grumble, pulling out the cooled rootbeer mixture from the fridge.
"I can eye it," said Sam, feeling like Titi as he poured what he assumed was a third of each of the mixtures, mixing, adding another third, mixing again, another third, mixing, combining it into an almost liquid mix, "Titi always used to eye it."
"Your titi sounds like a great woman," said Bucky as Sam handed the mix to Bucky, who poured it into an already prepared cake pan.
"She was," said Sam, putting the cake pan on a cookie sheet before sliding it onto the middle rack in the preheated oven, "A scientist. Artist. She studied the birds off the Louisiana coast - drew sketches of them, took notes on their behavior. She was the smartest woman I knew. Wildly creative. Used to make up a new game for us to play every weekend, even when we were all teens. I wish you could have met her. I don't know if she would have loved you. I don't - she was religious, so I don't know how she would have reacted..."
Sam pointed between him and Bucky.
"To this," said Sam, "But I know you would have loved her."
Bucky's eyes softened.
"I'm sure I would have," said Bucky, putting in forty-five minutes on the oven timer, the two of them walking to the breakfast table to sit and wait, "Could you tell me a few stories about her?"
Sam smiled, grabbing Bucky's hand and squeezing it.
"I'd love to," said Sam, overflowing with warm memories about his titi.
â€ïž â€ïž â€ïž
Want to choose a date for Sam and Bucky to go on during this special February Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary event? Check out the prompts here and send me an ask! Iâll write you a drabble as one of my Daily SamBucky Fluff Diaries!
#sambucky#the daily sambucky fluff diary#sambucky drabble#sam wilson#bucky barnes#28 short sambucky dates#date 16#cooking date#sarah wilson#titi#gideon wilson#sam tells bucky all of his favorite memories about his titi#and bucky listens with love in his eyes#my drabbles#my headcanons
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Bittersweet Temptations
CHAPTER 2
[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]
Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether itâd be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?
_____________________________________
The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasnât even remotely focused on it.
My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.
âAre you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?â The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.
I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.
They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If theyâd asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldnât mind.
But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.
Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.
The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.
ây/n? Are you alright?â
I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, âIâm um.. Iâm fine, sorry.â
I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didnât seem too convinced.
I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.
Until the manâs wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.
I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.
âJesus y/n, whatâs gotten into you?â
Iâm asking that same question, mom.
âNothing, I uh- think Iâm just tired,â the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, âIâm just.. Iâm gonna go shower for the party later.â
I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.
âWell that was smooth, dumbass,â I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me. Â
That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I havenât even had a single conversation with him.
I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.
This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..
I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.
Act like it didnât happen.
It didnât happen.
____________
Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls werenât thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.
Of course, my dadâs annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldnât be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.
As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when Iâll probably end up being one of those people.
I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.
While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasnât going to get much yet again.
With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.
The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.
It was a blessing that the noise didnât affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.
With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.
Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, Iâm bombarded by my mother.
âHey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!â her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.
Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.
Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.
After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.
I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.
As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadnât seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.
The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.
They had all gotten so close to one another, that theyâd have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.
While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.
Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.
I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathanâs reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.
I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.
As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.
There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the othersâ heads. Though, I still couldnât get a proper look at his face yet.
I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.
I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.
Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.
From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nateâs banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.
The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
By this point I wouldâve been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But  fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape. Â
âOh my god y/n?â My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.
Well great.
I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.
âElena, itâs so good to see you,â I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, âIâve missed you so much.â
âIâve missed you too,â she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, âespecially when Iâve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.â
I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.
âWhat are you two laughing about? Whatâd I do this time?â Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.
âOh nothing, Nate,â Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.
Even with Elena and Iâs pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldnât quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.
Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.
âItâs good to have you back, Crash.â
Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift.Â
âItâs been too long, Aku.â
We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.
I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown.Â
âSo whoâs this?â I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.
But silence continued to radiate around us.Â
They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat.Â
That is, before Nate finally spoke up, âY/n, this is Sam,â he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, âSam Drake.â
I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets.Â
âIs this your-â I pointed between the both of them.
âHeâs my older brother.â Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck.Â
My face fell even more if it was even possible.
Wait.
Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make SamâŠ
I looked at Samâs face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were.Â
Great. Not only was I checking out Nathanâs BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.
Fuck.
#sam drake x reader#sam drake#samuel drake x reader#samuel drake#uncharted fanfiction#sam drake fanfiction#uncharted#naughty dog
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two for one special
warnings: none :)
Jason peeled himself away from his stove, throwing a suspicious look at the kid sitting at his breakfast bar then his front door. Damian just shrugged, kicking his green combat boots faintly against the backing of his bar. Jason cringed, knowing that they would scuff. It wasn't that big of a deal, Robin had had a rough night and was seeking shelter from one Batman while Dick was in BlĂŒdhaven tying up some loose ends.
Jason really didn't have the heart to tell the kid no to seeing Theo or anything else that night. He was more than a little put off by the knock on his door, though. It was somewhat settling to know that Bruce wouldn't have bothered to knock, instead, ever the dramatic, he would opt for crashing through Jason's new living room windows. He huffed an irritated sigh just thinking about it.
He threw open the door when he saw it was Steph. She was wringing her hands and had an almost frown tugging on her lips. Jason vaguely registered that she was wearing her Christmas present.
"Uh, hi." She started, taking a breath like she was about to go into way too much detail for Jason's liking. He held up his hand, cutting her off, "Let me guess, you're hiding from B, too?"
She hesitated, eyebrows coming together as she stared at Jason, "Yeah. And my mom. Do you mind if I crash here?"
"Guess I'm harboring two fugitives tonight," He muttered, before adding over his shoulder as he turned his attention back to his meal, "Welcome to the party, we're having green curry."
"What'd you do?" He asked, reducing the heat as he gently stirred everything while he added the coconut milk.
He could hear Steph figideting behind him, warring on her lip as her stool scrapped against his floors, "May have accidentally started a gang war."
He snorted.
Damian gave a short sniff next to her, watching Jason like a hawk to make sure it was really vegetarian. If Jason had enough energy, he might've been offended. Instead, he had chucked the empty box of vegetable broth at the brat's head and continued on. When he turned to chuck the coconut milk container in the trash he saw Steph side eyeing Dami.
"Why're you here?" She asked gently, nudging him with her elbow. The younger boy looked indignant as he swallowed hard, refusing to meet her gaze. Instead, he took up aggressively petting Bartholomew, who was balanced on his lap, purring contently.
"No reason that concerns you, Brown."
Jason rolled his eyes, pulling the rice off and breaking it apart with a fork, answering for his little brother, "He got fired."
Steph's jaw dropped, her lips forming a perfect 'o' shape before she nodded sympathetically.
"I told you, Dames. It's a rite of passage. I've gotten fired. Steph's gotten fired--"
"I don't want to hear about your own inadequacies, Todd. I am certainly no where near you and Brown's Robin excursions." The kid sneered, glaring at Jason's fruit bowl. The man just shrugged, waiting a for the curry to thicken tiniest bit more before taking it off the stove completely. He set it on the counter and made a 'go for it' gesture. Like he said, if he had more energy he might've taken the jab to heart, instead he piled white rice on his plate and took it for what it was. Damian, who is insanely prideful, but more than that, as a kid was angry that someone had taken something away from him that he loved so dearly. And even though Jason wasn't the one who had taken it away, he was still in the closest vicinity and Damian felt like lashing out.
Jason could take it, though, as he shoved curry into his mouth, smiling at the shade's Steph's face was turning from the heat. He was from the Alley and he'd suffered far greater weapons than Damian Wayne's sharp tongue. He had a long ways to go before his words were as cutting as Alfred's.
"Dick was fired, too, you know."
Steph nodded through trying to desperately cool the bite she had just taken, fanning herself with her hand as she mimed for milk. Jason snickered and obliged. She spoke out of the corners of her mouth, "Yeah. Like Jason said Dami, it's a rite of passage. And like with everything else, you don't have to listen to Bruce."
Jason smirked, setting the glass of milk down in front of her and gearing up to launch into the story about the many, many times Dick had been fired. It was only far, since the oldest wasnât there to defend himself.
#have a crumb#jason todd#red hood#stephanie brown#spoiler#damian wayne#robin#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction
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