#like. can they smoke the food flavored ones
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ghostsirensworld · 2 days ago
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Late-Night Snack Raid with Luffy
Warnings: ooc? No use of y/n
You biggies are stealing food (I would too dw)
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Obviously if you’re dating luffy you need a big appetite
You’re peacefully asleep in your shared room on the Sunny, dreaming of something pleasant, when you feel a poke. Then another.
“Hey. Wake up.”
You groan, turning away from the voice, only to be poked again—this time in the side.
“Luffy,” you mumble sleepily, “go to sleep.”
“But I’m hungry.”
You crack one eye open to see your boyfriend kneeling next to you, his face just inches from yours, his usual grin in place. His straw hat is tilted back on his head, and his eyes gleam mischievously.
“We had dinner three hours ago, Luffy,” you say, turning over in an attempt to ignore him.
“That was three hours ago!” he whines dramatically. “I need a snack.”
“You always need a snack.”
Luffy flops onto your bed dramatically, arms stretching over his head as he sighs like he’s suffering. You peek at him, and there he is, looking at you with the biggest, most ridiculous puppy-dog eyes.
You sigh. “What do you want me to do about it?”
Luffy grins. “Let’s go steal food from the kitchen!”
You blink at him. “You mean Sanji’s kitchen? The one you stay getting kicked out of?”
Luffy nods enthusiastically, like this is the best idea he’s ever had. You stare at him for a long moment, considering the sheer suicidal nature of this plan. Sanji would kill both of you if he caught you raiding his carefully stocked supplies.
But then again… you’re hungry too now.
“…Fine.” You sighed
Luffy whoops in excitement, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. He’s practically bouncing as you both sneak out of the room, tiptoeing down the hall.
Or rather, you tiptoe. Luffy? He’s just casually strolling like he isn’t about to commit grand food theft.
When you get to the kitchen, Luffy carefully pushes open the door, peeking inside. “Clear,” he whispers, and with a giggle you both step in.
The pantry is a treasure trove of food, and Luffy immediately goes for the meat, grabbing a huge chunk like he’s found buried treasure. “Jackpot,” he grins.
You roll your eyes and grab something for yourself—a small pastry Sanji must have made earlier. But just as you take a bite, you hear the worst possible sound.
A click.
Both of you freeze.
The kitchen door locks.
“…Luffy,” you whisper.
“…Oops,” he whispers back.
You both turn, and there, standing in the doorway, is Sanji.
The blond cook takes a slow drag of his cigarette, blowing out smoke as he glares. “What do you two think you’re doing?” His voice is calm. Too calm.
Luffy, ever the fearless idiot, grins through a mouthful of stolen meat. “Hey, Sanji! We were just—”
“OUT. NOW.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You grab Luffy’s hand and run. Behind you, you can hear Sanji yelling about greedy captains and ungrateful crewmates, but Luffy is just laughing, his hand squeezing yours as you dash down the hall.
When you finally reach your room, breathless and victorious, Luffy flops onto the bed, still chewing on his stolen prize.
“That was fun!” he says through a grin.
“You almost got us killed,” you say, collapsing beside him.
He just grins wider and leans over, pressing a sloppy, meat-flavored kiss to your cheek.
“You’re the best.”
You sigh. This idiot. But he’s your idiot.
And, honestly? You wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
IDK IF THIS WAS GOOD OR NOT BUT YEAHHH REQUEST PLSSSS
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rehide · 7 months ago
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uta would have loved vaping in public spaces and doing like. crazy smoke tricks
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canisalbus · 1 year ago
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While the trick-or-treating comic was very cute, I cannot imagine Vasco not being a little treat kinda guy
Are you telling me he doesn't randomly buy himself candy just for the dopamine and the child-like joy? That he doesn't indulge on halloween spirit and buy spooky candy just for him and Machete?? (who barely eats it but halloween spirit comes first, practically second)
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#I actually thought about that for quite a while before choosing to go with a simple and neutral soda can#because yes I do think Vasco is a little treat kinda guy#but the treats he goes for probably aren't straight up candy#he's into hot chocolate and sweet coffee drinks#ice cream (particularly odd and seasonal flavors)#pastries and desserts probably#I can see him being a nutella enjoyer#and if he buys actual sweets I think he'd go for chocolate bars#(not like mars bars but thin flat sheets of chocolate that you break into smaller pieces)#(do those have a specific name in english or are they both just chocolate bars?)#none of the above are very easy to share unexpectedly with unfamiliar children#like I said in majority of Europe halloween isn't widely/officially celebrated and trick-or-treating isn't customary#families with young children teens and young adults might do halloween activities on smaller scale#but a childless couple in their thirties (and living in an apartment) is unlikely to have halloween candy in reserve methinks#Machete doesn't eat that many sugary things regularly#if Vasco is having something he probably goes along with it#but his health anxiety kind of affects what foods he deems acceptable and which ones should be avoided#which is ironic because modern Machete has a history of stress smoking#as a habit that's quite a bit worse for you than having an occasional ice cream sundae#I think he managed to quit when their relationship turned serious#answered#anonymous#modern au
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anticipatedexhale · 22 days ago
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They are trying to cook for you, key word is trying!.
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♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, vander, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi.
☆ ◞ summary: they try to surprise you by cooking up a meal! (character)!
△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Other than that nothing just sweet pure fluff, also not proofread yuppie!!
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Mel Medarda.
Mel doesn’t usually cook, but she enjoys challenging herself to excel at anything she attempts.
She researches recipes beforehand and even practices privately to ensure she impresses you.
She insists on perfection—not just in flavor, but in presentation.
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When Mel told you she wanted to cook dinner for you, you didn’t know what to expect. She wasn’t the type to roll up her sleeves in the kitchen—her usual dinners involved lavish spreads delivered by Piltovan chefs. Yet here she was, dressed impeccably, her sleeves neatly rolled, slicing herbs with the precision of a master artist.
You sit on a stool, quietly admiring her grace. Every movement she makes feels deliberate, from the way she stirs the sauce to the way she tastes it with a thoughtful hum. “This needs a hint more acidity,” she murmurs, reaching for a lemon.
Finally, she places the plate in front of you—a stunning dish that looks like something from a gourmet restaurant. You almost don’t want to ruin the artistry by eating it, but the aroma convinces you otherwise.
After the first bite, you can’t help but let out a small moan of approval. “Mel, this is incredible.”
Her lips curl into a satisfied smile, her golden eyes gleaming with pride. “I’d hope so. I don’t do mediocrity—not even for a simple dinner.” She leans closer, brushing her fingers lightly against yours. “But seeing you enjoy it makes all the effort worthwhile.”
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Jayce Talis.
Jayce throws himself into cooking like one of his Hextech experiments—lots of ambition, not much planning.
He uses way too many ingredients and utensils, convinced that “more is better.”
The kitchen is a disaster by the end, but he’s proud of the chaos he’s created for you.
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“Jayce, what are you—oh my god, is that smoke?” you exclaim as you walk into the kitchen.
Jayce spins around, holding a spatula in one hand and a pan in the other. There’s flour on his face, and the counter is covered in an alarming array of spices, half-chopped vegetables, and what you think might be egg shells.
“Relax! I’ve got this!” he grins, though the sizzling pan in his hand suggests otherwise. He flips something in the air, but it lands half out of the pan. He quickly scoops it back in, glancing over at you sheepishly.
“You know,” you tease, crossing your arms, “you could’ve just let me cook.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he retorts, turning back to the stove with renewed determination.
When the food is finally done, he presents it to you with a proud flourish. It’s... not pretty. Some parts are slightly burnt, others undercooked, but you can see the genuine effort he put in.
You take a cautious bite, and while it’s not perfect, it’s oddly endearing. “It’s... not bad,” you say, smiling at his hopeful expression.
He beams like you just handed him an award. “See? Told you I could do it.” He pulls you into a flour-dusted hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Next time, though, I’ll definitely get it right.”
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Viktor.
Viktor rarely cooks, as his focus is usually on his work, but he secretly enjoys the idea of creating something special for you.
He’s not overly confident in the kitchen but is determined to make it a success.
He gets overly absorbed in the “science” of cooking, sometimes forgetting the practical side.
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You find Viktor in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and a cookbook propped open beside him. He’s frowning slightly as he measures ingredients with the precision of an engineer.
“You’re cooking?” you ask, a little surprised but mostly intrigued.
He glances up, his expression softening at the sight of you. “Yes, I thought... well, you deserve something thoughtful. But I may have underestimated the complexity of this recipe.”
You watch as he carefully stirs a sauce, only to realize too late that the pot is starting to boil over. He yelps, stepping back quickly, and you stifle a laugh as he scrambles to salvage the situation.
“It’s fine,” he mutters, half to himself, half to you, wiping his brow with a flour-dusted hand. “A minor setback.”
When he finally presents the meal, it’s a little uneven—the sauce is slightly too thick, and the vegetables are cut at oddly different sizes—but it tastes surprisingly good.
“This is amazing,” you say with a warm smile, and Viktor visibly relaxes.
“I am glad,” he murmurs, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose I cannot compete with professionals, but knowing you enjoy it is... enough.”
You reach over to take his hand, and he squeezes yours gently, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks.
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VI.
Vi doesn’t have much experience cooking, but she’s confident enough to think she can wing it.
She’s more interested in making it fun than perfect, cracking jokes and sneaking tastes while she cooks.
The end result is edible (barely), but her effort and enthusiasm make up for it.
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When Vi told you she was going to cook dinner, you weren’t sure what to expect. Now, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, you can’t decide whether to laugh or intervene.
“Don’t just stand there,” Vi says, grinning at you over her shoulder as she stirs something in a pan. “I’ve got this under control.
The “control” she’s referring to involves a half-chopped onion, a bag of pasta precariously balanced on the counter, and a sauce that looks... experimental.
“Vi, do you even know what you’re making?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Dinner,” she says simply, throwing in a handful of spices with no regard for measurements.
When she finally serves the food, it’s a little burnt and overly seasoned, but her proud expression as she watches you take a bite makes it impossible to complain.
“Well?” she asks, leaning forward, her elbows on the table.
“It’s... unique,” you say diplomatically, and she bursts out laughing.
“Yeah, okay, it’s terrible,” she admits, leaning back with a grin. “But you’re still stuck with me, so deal with it.” She reaches over to steal a bite from your plate, her playful smirk softening into something warmer.
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Caitlyn.
Caitlyn grew up in luxury and rarely had to cook for herself, but she’s surprisingly good at it thanks to her perfectionist streak.
She approaches cooking with precision, following recipes to the letter.
She loves making meals that remind her of home but adds her own modern twist
She loves making meals that remind her of home but adds her own modern twist.
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The smell of something delicious pulls you into the kitchen, where Caitlyn is standing at the stove, her hair neatly tied back and an apron wrapped around her waist.
“Is that... pie?” you ask, sniffing the air.
She’s completely in her element, moving with quiet efficiency as she checks the oven and stirs a pot of soup. When she catches you watching her, she tilts her head.
“It’s a family recipe,” she replies, turning to you with a smile. “I thought you’d like something comforting tonight.”
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to help?” she teases.
You end up chopping vegetables under her guidance, and by the time the meal is ready, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm.
When she serves the pie, it’s golden and flaky, the filling warm and fragrant. You take a bite and let out a hum of approval.
“This is amazing, Cait,” you say, and her cheeks flush slightly.
“I’m glad you think so,” she says softly, her hand brushing yours as she takes her seat. “It’s nice to share this with you.”
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Jinx.
Jinx can’t cook. At all. But she’s convinced she can and gets wildly creative in the kitchen.
She’s more interested in the process than the result, turning the whole thing into chaos.
She’d never admit it, but she just wants to make you smile, even if the food is a disaster.
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“Close your eyes!” Jinx exclaims, practically bouncing on her feet as she leads you into the kitchen.
You do as she says, bracing yourself for whatever chaos awaits. When she finally lets you open your eyes, you’re greeted by a table covered in... something.
“Ta-da!” she announces, waving her arms at the feast she’s prepared. It’s colorful, chaotic, and borderline unrecognizable as food
“Uh, Jinx, what is this?” you ask, trying not to laugh.
“It’s dinner, duh,” she says, sitting down and shoving a plate toward you. “I mixed all the best stuff together. You’re gonna love it!”
You take a cautious bite, and while it’s not exactly good, the way Jinx watches you with wide, eager eyes makes it worth it.
“Well?” she asks, leaning forward, her grin almost childlike.
“It’s... creative,” you say, and she bursts out laughing.
“Yeah, okay, it’s a mess,” she admits, but her smile softens as she reaches out to steal a bite from your plate. “But it’s our mess.”
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Vander.
Vander is a practical man and isn’t really interested in fancy cooking.
He tends to stick to hearty, simple meals that will fill everyone up—comfort food is his specialty.
He’s a little self-conscious about his cooking skills but always tries his best to make sure you feel cared for.
You hear the familiar sound of clanking pots and the rich scent of stew wafting from the kitchen. Vander stands at the stove, stirring a large pot with his usual no-nonsense attitude. His sleeves are rolled up, and his broad back is hunched over the counter as he checks on the simmering ingredients.
“Smells good in here,” you say, leaning against the doorframe and watching him work.
Vander glances over at you, a bit startled but offering a warm smile when he sees it’s just you. “It’s nothing fancy,” he grumbles, his voice a little sheepish. “Just thought I’d make something filling for us. No one needs to go hungry, right?”
You step closer, leaning in to smell the stew. It’s a mix of root vegetables, tender meat, and just the right amount of seasoning—simple but comforting. “It smells amazing,” you say honestly.
He looks pleased but still tries to downplay it. “Yeah, well, I’ve been doing this kind of thing for a while. Had to keep people fed in the Undercity, after all.”
You sit at the table as Vander sets down two bowls of stew in front of you. The meal is nothing extraordinary in terms of presentation, but the warmth and heart behind it are undeniable. It’s exactly what you need after a long day.
Vander sits across from you, digging into his own bowl, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, eating.
When you finally finish, you lean back in your chair, satisfied. “Vander, that was perfect,” you say, giving him a smile.
He looks a bit surprised, his face softening. “Glad you liked it. I know I’m no chef, but... well, it’s nice to know I can still make you happy with something simple.”
You reach across the table, placing a hand on his. “It’s not about the fancy stuff, Vander. It’s the care you put into it.”
His hand covers yours, his expression filled with warmth. “Just don’t expect me to start experimenting with fancy desserts or anything,” he chuckles. “But I’ll always make sure you’re well-fed.”
You smile, feeling both comforted and cared for in his presence, knowing that even if the food was simple, it came with a whole lot of love.
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Authors note: hehehe this was so silly to write omg I lobe them.
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atlaculture · 3 months ago
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Favorite Foods: Zuko
Whereas everyone else's favorite foods required research and conjecture, Zuko's post mostly builds off what we see in the show. The foods Zuko likes are inspired by multiple real-life cultures. Links to recipes will be included.
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Larou (臘肉) - Also called Lap Yuk in Cantonese, is cured pork belly aka bacon. According to the old Nickelodeon ATLA page, sizzle-crisps appear to be the Fire Nation's version of bacon bits. And, according to the official Avatar cookbook, sizzle-crisps are Zuko's favorite snack. He likes their long shelf-life and versatility, which are necessities for food meant to be stored on a ship. He not only eats them on their own as a snack, but uses them as seasoning for any dishes he considers under-seasoned and bland, which is most non-Fire Nation food. As such, he always carries around a bag of "sizzle crisps", like how some people always have hot sauce on their person. He likes his larou extra peppery.
Shaved Ice - A popular summer treat in many parts of the world, Asia included. In its most basic form, shaved ice is frozen water or milk, topped with a sweet syrup. Shaved ice brings back bittersweet memories for Zuko, reminding him of fun times spent at Ember Island with his family. Zuko's favorite flavors are guava and watermelon. He normally eats a pretty basic version in public, but will go all out with toppings when no one's watching.
Jook - Jook is the Cantonese name for rice porridge and the term Iroh uses when serving it to Zuko. Considering Zuko's tendency to push himself too hard, it's likely that the prince had a good number of bed-rest days during his banishment. As such, I think Iroh is quite used to preparing jook for his nephew. While Zuko initially didn't appreciate being "babied" (from his perspective), he comes to associate jook with his uncle's love for him. Rice porridge is eaten all over Asia.
Inihaw Na Bangus - Tagolog for "Grilled Milkfish", this is a popular fish dish in the Philippines. The milkfish is stuffed with flavorful ingredients, scored, and grilled over a fire. During the book 1 episode, "The Warriors of Kyoshi", Zuko is shown being served what looks to be this dish by his ship's cook. I feel that Zuko would have a love-hate relationship with this meal. He genuinely loves eating it, but it was also served to him very often, due to the availability of the fish while out at sea. Thus, Zuko went through cycles of eating it constantly, and then not even wanting to see it for months at a time. After the war, it became a meal he'd have about once a week.
Sea cucumber sashimi - As I mentioned in a previous post, "sea slug" is a more antiquated name for the sea cucumber. In ATLA, smoked sea slug is served as commoner's food, while parts of the sea slug are served raw to the wealthy. In real life, sea slug/cucumber is actually an expensive delicacy that's served raw in Japan and Korea. Considering Zuko's willingness to steal high quality food in Book 2, I always felt that he probably has a rather refined palette. "Sea slug" sashimi was probably the dish he missed most from the FN palace. He liked dipping it in soy sauce mixed with chili paste.
Tea - I'm sure we all saw this coming. Under Iroh's influence, Zuko comes to appreciate tea. While not the connoisseur that his uncle is, he does enjoy winding down with a mellow jasmine tea at the end of the day.
Also, I think we can all agree that Zuko would never eat a turtle-duck. ^_^
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kdyq · 1 month ago
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Cooking with chaos
Ambessa x Fem!reader
context: Ambessa tries cooking for you.
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The savory aroma of spices filled the air as you stepped into the kitchen only to freeze at the scene before you. Seeing Ambessa with her brows furrowed in concentration Flour dusted her hands and streaked her cheek while several pots bubbled away on the stove had you shocked.
“Ambessa?” you asked cautiously trying not to laugh. “What is umm happening here?”
She glanced over her shoulder clearly startled by your sudden appearance. “You weren’t supposed to see this yet.”
“See what? The aftermath of a kitchen war?” you teased stepping closer to survey the damage. Your eyes scanned over the countertop which was a mess of chopped vegetables scattered spices and what looked like an abandoned recipe book with a splash of sauce on its cover.
“I’m cooking dinner” she said her tone defensive but her expression betraying a hint of embarrassment.
“You? Cooking?” The disbelief in your voice was impossible to hide.
She turned back to the stove giving one of the pots a strong stir. “I’ve fought in countless battles. How hard could cooking be?”
You couldn’t help but laugh leaning against the counter as you watched her. “And how’s that working out for you?”
“It’s… under control” she replied though the growing plume of smoke from the oven suggested otherwise.
“Ambessa” you said crossing the kitchen and opening the oven door to reveal a charred tray of what was once bread. “This doesn’t look like control my love.”
She groaned a taking her hand and scratching her head leaving a flour mark. “I just wanted to do something for you” she admitted her voice softening. “You’re always the one making things special and I thought I could return the favor.”
Your teasing smile melted into something more affectionate. “That’s really sweet love. But maybe cooking isn’t exactly your specialty .”
She sighed stepping back from the stove and crossing her arms. “Apparently not.”
“Well” you said grabbing a spoon to taste one of the bubbling pots. You grimaced slightly at the overwhelming saltiness but quickly covered it with a smile. “It’s… edible. Kind of.”
Ambessa let out a rare laugh her tension easing as she leaned against the counter. “You’re too kind.”
“Tell you what” you offered grabbing an apron and tying it around your waist. “Why don’t we salvage what we can together? I’ll teach you a few tricks and maybe next time your dinner won’t look like a food fight.”
She raised an eyebrow her lips curving into a smirk. “You think you can teach me? Bold of you.”
“Someone has to” you shot back nudging her playfully as you moved to take over the stove.
For the next hour the two of you worked side by side. You guided her through the basics showing her how to balance flavors and avoid setting the oven ablaze. Despite her grumbles Ambessa followed your instructions with surprising patience.
By the time dinner was ready the kitchen looked slightly less like a food fight and the table was set with plates of food that were delicious.
As you sat down to eat Ambessa raised her glass her expression soft and sincere. “To my greatest teacher” she said a rare twinkle of humor in her eyes.
“To my bravest student” you replied with a grin clinking your glass against hers.
The meal tasted even better knowing how much effortand lovehad gone into it.
“THE END”
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saeist · 8 months ago
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my personal touya headcanons (yes i will make full on fics n drabbles with these in mind):
CHRONIC manspreader. literally takes up a whole love couch with the way he spreads his legs
can drive but gets motion sick easily so counting on him for a 2+ hour roadtrip? yeah pull over we’re switching seats
damaged hair from the constant dyeing but that won’t stop this baddie from dyeing it jet black every 2 weeks
only runs on 4 separate hours of sleep and snores like a truck. (u’ll need earplugs)
surprisingly tidy in regards to his room only because rei comes and checks their rooms and if its all messy they’ll get their asses whooped
doesn’t smoke cigarettes BUT has a box of disposables/juuls hidden in his sock drawer (GOD FORBIDS rei finds his stash)
^ in addition to that, contrary to popular belief his plug is unironically natsuo..
loves icy berry related related flavors too LMFAO
is supposed to be a junior in college on paper but since he keeps dropping and switching majors, he’s technically still a freshman
^ is currently taking chemical engineering (took business ad, computer science, finance, nursing (💀) and literally god knows what. his college majors that he dropped is between him, endeavor and god now)
since he’s competitive as fuck and is a perfectionist, took up multiple sports and extra curriculars growing up
prefers soggy cereal
drinks a lot but lightweight as fuck. after one bottle he’s out 💡 but that won’t stop him from drinking more!
knows how to braid girls hair thanks to fuyumi
cats warm up to him on the street cus he’s warm n shit
prettiest resting face but makes the ugliest faces known to man just for the sake of it (still pulls)
doesn’t approach girls, girls approach him
scares them away when he’s all like 😐🧍🏻
hooded eyelids + long eyelshes (both top and bottom)
genuinely starts tweaking when people say he got endeavor’s eyes solely bc hes a momma’s boy..
grew up being SPOILED rotten amongst his siblings so he doesn’t take no for an answer and will actually start stomping his feet
once he opens his mouth however.. everyone is gonna know he’s endeavors son fr 😓
keigo is his closest irl friend but tomura is who he considers as his best friend even if they’re only internet friends
has a basic pc set up and plays valorant fortnite and roblox religiously
shits on children especially shoto and his two friends
once babysat the three of them in exchange for concert tickets
did i mention he has an indie rock emo band he formed when he was in high school? yeah
bassist obviously but sometimes he plays drums
will scare rei out of her wits when he would just magically appear on their couch when he’s supposed to be at his university
his room is in the attic
dresses like hes going to an opium concert but rei makes him change before they leave to go to church so ultimately he dresses up like a cottagecore mf but with piercings and box dye jet black hair
almost broke natsuo’s hand when he first got his nose piercing
embodies the trope of “best friends older brother”
has a soft spot for grandmas and will help them cross the road each time
picks up shoto from school with his beat up hand me down car. literally one slam on the break away from breaking (endeavor gave it to him as his 18th birthday present)
sometimes ends up driving shoto’s friends home too if shoto insists (more like demands)
will also intentionally go through a drive-thru and the kids in the backseat are expecting him to ask them what they want but touya just gets whatever the fuck he was craving, pays and leaves
“we got food at home!” - touya to a enraged shoto
also sometimes touya is shoto’s chaperone or the “parent” that goes to those parent teacher meetings when its time for get shotos report card and will deliberately say shoto has failing grades when shoto is part of the honor roll just to again, fuck with him
shamelessly flirts with the girls natsuo brings home just to fuck with him (he gets sucker punched later that night bc at the end of the day, natsuo is bigger than that man 😭)
when all the todosibs are fighting, nobody listens to him even if he’s the eldest. they all end up ganging up on him (fuyumi doesn’t stop shit, in fact she instigates further. she don’t play)
says he hates winter and likes summer more but whenever its summer time if he could he would live inside the freezer
hates the feeling of sweating 😮‍💨
sometimes goes on days without showering only popping a lil deodorant here and there so rei forces him to shower whenever he just so happened to pass by her
cooks decent meals but shoto hates it and intentionally makes gagging noises whenever he finds out touya was in charge of cooking that night
hates doing the dishes and fools shoto into doing it for him
when he goes on dates, he steals endeavors credit card and just pays for everything. will probably even take you to nobu just to do so
attempts to blame natsuo when endeavor caught on since his card decline at the supermarket but unfortunately touya cannot lie to save his own life even if he tried
OH! talks MAD game in bed but has never touched a woman in his life.. painfully a virgin. u have to teach this man PLEASEE 🙏
likes yeat and carti
basically teenager borderline adult core
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nightscarab · 4 months ago
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haikyu!! headcanons - seijoh main four
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slight suggestive themes in matsukawa's
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iwaizumi hajime
100% without a doubt, works out to relieve stress. it's an escape from his problems (oikawa) and helps him take out his anger in a healthy way.
his favorite color is definitely red. i don't know why he just seems like a red guy.
literally gets SO pouty when he's surprised with something. it could be a gift or a party and he'll get so pouty. he's so emotional i love him
he loves LOVES when you grab his bicep. it makes him feel so strong and manly and proud it's so cute his face lights up.
contrary to popular opinion, he LOVES physical touch, but only with specific people. he just loves feeling loved.
whatever you cook for him, he'll DEVOUR it. he'll literally eat it up he loves food especially if you're the one who made it.
oikawa tooru
he has major separation anxiety. when he's in argentina you know damn well he's spamming the group chat with messages and calls.
his friends mean everything to him. he'd abandon volleyball for them anyday. he'd never admit it though...
a horrible, terrible liar. cannot lie to save his life, he'll start laughing or smiling. his voice cracks if he tries to drag it on too long.
when he falls in love, he's in LOVE. the gc is spammed with messages about how much he loves his gf and pictures of her followed by long ass paragraphs.
if he ever catches you in his jersey, oh honey... you're never gonna hear the end of it. he'll do a whole photoshoot of you in it, it doesn't matter if you just woke up. he thinks you look stunning and now it's his lockscreen wallpaper.
the SASSIEST man alive. he'll give you so much attitude if he's pissed off. you gotta sit his ass down and tell him to cut it out cause it gets BAD.
matsukawa issei
i don't see him as a smoker honestly. however...he is a big drinker. beer, whiskey, rum and coke, you name it, he'll have it.
super handsy. can't keep him hands off you, he needs to be touching you at all times. whether it be a hand on your hip, waist, thigh, head, or an arm around your shoulder, he's always touching you.
working in a funeral home, he sees a lot of grieving families yk.. he has nightmares that one day he'll be the one grieving you. please hold him tight at night!!
king of midnight snack runs! it's 4am and you're hungry? no problem! let's do a cvs run. oh you want taco bell? it closes soon better hurry!
has the LONGEST eyelashes you've ever seen. it's not even funny how are they so long. he looks great with mascara, he'll even beg you to put it on him so he can show off to oikawa. (he does, in fact, get jealous)
jams out with hanamaki to 2000's white girl songs. i'm talking christina aguilera, britney spears, natasha bedingfield, etc. it's their favorite way to mess with hajime. (he secretly loves it though)
hanamaki takahiro
matsukawa might not be a smoker, but hanamaki totally is. he doesn't smoke often, but when he does he comes back higher than a kite. he only smokes to relieve stress.
our dear boy is unemployed, but he still tries to spoil you as much as he can. you want that swimsuit? you'd look so hot babe of course he's buying it for you.
not a very touchy person, but he tries to make it up to you by spending time with you. he'll stand by you in the kitchen while you're whipping up some coffee for yourself. he sees you on the couch? now you guys are watching a movie together. he just loves being with you.
late night drives with takahiro are to die for. you've never had this much fun in your life. the city lights and the music blasting from the radio lifts you to a high you've never felt before.
uses hot cocoa flavored chapstick. he stocks up during the winter since it's a seasonal flavor (which he thinks is super annoying) but you complimented him on it once and now it's the only one he uses.
on twitter nearly 24/7. he posts his every thought and somehow they go viral. he prides himself on that and comes to you every time his tweet blows up. "look babe! my tweet hit 100k retweets."
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kcrossvine-art · 11 months ago
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Hi fellow adventurers!! Welcome to chapter 2! We're going to be attempting a nice lil fruit-focused quiche/frittata/pie thing. And yes, tomatoes are fruits.
Who says you cant eat totally normal things in a dungeon with definitely no monsters in them? 
You know what that means; Man-Eating Plant Tart!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to a Man-Eating Plant Tart?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe way its prepared in the show is akin to a frittata, but the crust is borrowed from quiche world.
Eggs
Whole milk
Bell peppers
Persimmons
Cherry tomatoes
Pitted green olives
Thinly sliced OR shredded sweet potatos
Salt
Pepper
In the show they use leftover hotpot stock, slime, and mashed up fruit as the batter ingredients. Fruit mush is easy to work with but I couldn't find any stand-in for slime that would cook correctly into what they made in the show, and the hotpot stock is just not thick enough to carry the base. It is too many watery ingredients at once. Needing a thickening agent, both gelatin and agar agar were tried. It was edible but the texture was… gelatinous. Regular egg and milk will serve for our purposes.
The next complication was the crust- so in the show its made with the skins of fruit, straightforward yeah? Well. You see it also has to be 1. Thick enough to bake without burning 2. Harden through cooking to be sliced and held and 3. Inedible. Lotus leaves? Plantain leaves? Really thin gourds? I couldnt find any historical basis for a savory food cooked in this method, or similar method, with an intentionally inedible crust. I could find a few dishes which used leaves as their crust, but none that hardened during cooking and even less that used fruit skin. I chose sweet potato skin for its visual match and texture. It is edible, and it is not a fruit.
I hope youll forgive me for these 2 major deviations as i wanted to keep it looking how it does in the show while also ensuring it tastes good.
AND, “what does a Man-Eating Plant Tart taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKFluffy, airy, savory, salty.
The density of the eggs is offset by the crisp fruits
And the saltiness doesnt overpower the remnant fruit-sweetness
(If you eat the crust) the sweet potato brings this nice muted, smokey, flavor
Spongecake-esque in consistency
Would pair well with cranberry or strawberry juice
Would also pair well with a mellow hot sauce?
. You can use heavy cream instead of milk for a creamier batter . Roast the fruit longer to remove more liquid if too wet (and vice versa if too dry) . Smoked paprika, pepper flakes, cumin, garlic powder, and onion powder would taste good in the mixture
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"A mixture of mashed up and cut up Man-Eating Plant fruit, slime and scorpion soup is poured into a pan lined with the flattened peel of the fruit and cooked before garnishing with some more fruit. Described as salty by the group."
From start to finish this recipe took 3-ish hours? Shredding the potatoes took the longest, so if you get them bagged itd be cut down. A very filling recipe and a good way to sneak veggies/fruits in if you have a hard time getting enough of those essential nutrients. The best advice i can give is to add salt/seasonings at every stage of the process, to build up layers. It makes a difference flavor-wise (even if its just salt). I advise against reheating if possible. The filling will make the crust soggy over time.
If you want to be closer to the cooking of the show, you could double the fruit amounts and mash them together while halving the amount of egg and milk. I hadnt tried due to budget reasons, but it should work with some finangling. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys with how todays recipe turned out <333
What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do better, and what would you have done instead?
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
3 Eggs
13oz whole milk
2 bell peppers
2 small persimmons
140oz cherry tomatoes
12oz pitted green olives
34oz thinly sliced OR shredded sweet potatos
Salt
Pepper
Method:
Heat oven to 420f and grease a 9-inch pie pan.
Thinly slice (or shred) your sweet potatoes and squeeze out any excess moisture. Coat in olive oil, salt and pepper.
Press sweet potato mixture evenly into and up the sides of the pie pan.
Blind bake for roughly 25 minutes or until lightly golden-brown. No worries if the edges get crisp.
Remove pie pan from oven and set aside.
Core and chop up your bell peppers and persimmons. Coat with olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Line out on a baking sheet, evenly spaced, and roast for roughly 20 minutes or until softened. (you can do this at the same time on a separate rack from the pie crust if you have room)
Remove the stems from your cherry tomatoes, and drain/dry your green olives if canned.
Bring a frying pan to medium heat with olive oil. Add the green olives and sautee until their skin texture starts dimpling. Add the cherry tomatoes and continue sauteeing for about 5 minutes or until lightly browned.
Once the bell peppers, persimmons, cherry tomatoes, and green olives are all done, set aside to cool until just above room temp.
Lower the oven temperature to 350f.
In a mixing bowl combine your eggs and milk, add salt to taste. If you want other seasonings nows a good time!
Once uniform in color and texture, add your cooked fruit. Stir until evenly distributed.
Pour mixture into the potato pie crust.
Bake for roughly 40 minutes. The filling should be mostly firm, but wiggle *slightly* when you shake the pan.
Remove from oven and let rest for roughly 15 minutes before serving.
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ashdreams2023 · 5 months ago
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Loki things part idk:
He thinks smoking is absolutely disgusting, like he treats his body like a temple so never to something so disgusting and tasteless
He likes sweeter drinks, asgard didn’t serve them much and he relish in them when he’s on earth
He studies religions, all types, finds it fascinating what mere humans put their faith and hopes for, something to believe in
Can’t sleep in complete darkness, as silly as it may sound he actually needs some sort of light in the place he’s sleeping in (gets a mini night lamp later)
Goes to thrift stores, doesn’t buy anything because he thinks he’s better than wearing used stuff but likes to browse through the different pieces and maybe try to recreate them with his magic
Cuts his hair himself, no one is allowed to touch it unless it’s someone very close to
His eyelashes are naturally long and they get in his eye sometimes so he gets them trimmed every few weeks
Makes his own perfume, as in he makes his own scent, it’s like a hobby of his to go into the frosts and gather ingredients and turn them into something inching
His favorite vegetable is pumpkin and you can imagine his surprise when he discovered pumpkin flavored things exist other then pie
He gets the worst sunburns if he’s not careful, literally fries up like a dead fish
Speaking of fish he actually doesn’t like fish, never found it appealing, the only sea food he would eat though is shrimp
He doesn’t have bad body odor, so when he sweats it’s not that strong disgusting smell but something faint and manageable
His favorite animals are {cats- sheep- goats}
He got so excited when he found out bucky raised goats back in wakanda
Likes to go to different candy stores and tries everything covered in sugar (his favorites are those strawberry gummies covered in sugar)
Loki naturally is a brilliant dancer and offer out of pity to teach anyone how to ballroom dance in exchange for some favors
Dense bones, he’s very VERY heavy, to a normal human being obviously and if he lets say falls of top of you full force you might lose breath and pass out immediately
Finds graveyards oddly sentimental since back in asgard they don’t berry the bodies, he sometimes finds himself going and watching people visit their loved ones
Keeps all his gifts, it doesn’t matter if they are garbage he still keeps it because it still means a big deal to him
Hates crocks so much, would rather flip flops and his toes out in the open than wear those hideous things
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inf3ct3dd · 1 year ago
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ellie headcanons pt 4.!
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warnings: literally nothing
content: loser!ellie x reader
authors note: brewing a full length fic in my mind rn… this might be the last hc post 😓!!!
pt.3. taglist!
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- loves matching with you. keychains, shoes, outfits, literally anything. if you have dyed hair, she’d dye a piece of hers to match you.
- makes up elaborate plots to kiss you bc she’s too cool and nonchalant to ask for a kiss 😕😕
“ugh, my lips are just sooooo dry���”
“didnt you literally just put chapstick on 5 minutes ago?”
“yknow chapstick these days…so…low quality.”
“is this your weird way of asking me to kiss you?”
“noooo what!!! thats craaaaazy i have nooo idea what you’re talking about!!!”
smooch
“you’re so stupid.”
“i feel sooooo moisturized right now”
- always fidgeting with something. probably has a rubix cube keychain 😕🔥🔥
- speaking of, she has an excessive amount of keychains. like so many.
- covers her eyes and peaks through her fingers every time you change infront of her
- definitely audibly said “woah” when she saw ur boobs for the first time
- has so many dumb socks. dinosaurs, minecraft, pickles, literally anything she likes she has a pair of socks for
- scarily good at roblox obbies. you literally can’t play with her because she’ll be done in like 5 minutes 😞
- loves those papas cooking games. her faves are the taco mia one and the sushi-ria
- arizona green tea 🗣️🗣️
- will put on awful accents for hours on end just for fun 😞 esp the italian accent. it’s ridiculous 💔💔 or that frat dude accent
“suhhh dude”
- definitely built her own pc. put a picture of you in it too ☹️☹️
- calls you “dude” or “bro” on accident sometimes
- absolutely constantly argues w ppl on the internet. if she gets bored she just tells them to kts and blocks them 😕
- MAKES THE BEST PASTA EVER!!! it’s literally her favorite food and she’s constantly cooking it. even makes her own sauce 🔥🔥
- tries to do tricks while she’s smoking and just ends up a coughing mess
- her default pose in every picture is just her doing a thumbs up and looking at the camera like this 😐 but whenever she takes a picture with you she is absolutely CHEESING
- randomly takes 0.5 pictures of you constantly. has a whole album in her phone of all the pictures
- barely ever uses instagram, and all her posts are just pictures of you.
- “i could take a bear in a fight.”
- loves balancing things on your head when you fall asleep around her. one time you woke up to like 20 cheerios falling on your lap
- whenever she’s home alone she puts on insanely random outfits and then forgets she’s wearing them. one time you came home to her sleeping on the couch in a full suit
- lets you stand on the cart in the grocery store so she can stand behind you and push it around
- has had the same backpack since the 5th grade. she’s had to sow it back together 20 times and she refuses to throw it away because its “special”
- stalks all your reposts on tiktok when she’s bored
“was this about me???”
- absolutely disgusted by like…any type of canned food. she will not go near it. ESPECIALLY SARDINES
- makes a million typos every time she texts you. her messages are like ancient scrolls you have to decipher to read
“sre tou comungw over todqy ??”
- every time she wears a hat she wears it backwards
- hates sharing her food, but will constantly eat yours
“just a little bite!!!” and she eats like half of it 😒
- has the julien baker rainbow guitar strap
- literally loves apples. so much. apple juice, apple pie, apple cider, literally ANYTHING that has apples in it/ is apple flavored she will DEVOUR IT
- whenever she cooks for herself, she just eats it straight out of the pot/pan.
“whats the point?? ‘s just more dishes to wash 😒”
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taglist: if ur name is crossed, i cant tag u :((
@princessguardian444 @mina-281 @leatheredhearts @r3wbeef @dinaissoprettyoml @forelliesposts @lov3lylotus @melissabarrerass @greencacty @as2rid @kingofmylastkiss @dollietes @ellieslilsIvvt @pl9ys @bbygrlshelbs @gayh0rr0r @sawaagyapong @paran0id0blivi0n @bubs-world @mag-mfm @bearieio @slutshies @horror-whoree @calystas-morning-tea @ilovaffles @fr3sh-tragedies @iloveeyousblog @maris-koffin @emonopolyman @elliesgflol @girlwonderchloe @brunettedolls-blog @beestar120 @ddreabea @ibloom4u @elliesmellsbad @thecowardwrites @owmoiralover @yuyans-stuff @minixmel @ellesslutt @swtsuna @saggykneecaps @4rt3m1ss @clouded-whispers @baldph0bic @elleatethat @certifedcrybunny @staxz8 @astridnyx31 @0rb1t-s4turn @amandla111 @kalia31 @spinnyshark @cewcumbers @urnewghostfriend @dinasmoon @teeveegirl @iwantsoda @lunascerebro @matildalee @rach-0000 @er-or101 @our-horse @armins1ut @syrenada @seventeenelliesgf @jellysangelstar @f3r4lfr0gg3r @ilovelyby @people0know @sapphicsstars @hi2647 @mousymaven @echostinn @bratydoll
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ellabsbb · 1 year ago
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cocky loser stoner modern ellie hc’s
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• such a job hopper. fast food, retail, random places like menards, the zoo
• her car is so shitty and it’s kinda stinky from the weed and maybe a bit dirty.. but she’d so clean it for you and put some air fresheners in the vents <3
• in the not so distant future she totally becomes one of those rich famous streamers and buys joel a house but shh that’s in the future so for now
• also her seat in her car is leaned back so far and so low there’s no possible way that’s comfortable right??
• sorry idk why i keep thinking about the car but also she has snacks in there always! but they’re like. opened, old, stale, half gone.. yeah
• a player, community strap if you will, but like come on can you blame her it’s not her fault she gets bitches (her words not mines)
• will smoke you out and take you to mcdonald’s what more could a girl ask for
• and she’ll pay even though she’s broke 90% of the time
• always texting joel memes he doesn’t understand in the slightest
• tells him about girls she’s been with just to embarrass him LOL
“joel you have to see this girl she had the most juicy-”
“alright that’s enough, i know i didn’t raise you to talk like that.”
• sometimes (most times) she’ll just wake up and throw on whatever she first puts her hands on. and doesn’t even care enough to pretend to be embarrassed when you see her in public in baggy pants with one leg rolled up, the most wrinkled shirt ever, and socks that aren’t even the same length
• refuses to wear any other shoes than her beat up busted up converse. they have several holes. you can see her socks. the shoelaces are torn. come on
• says stuff like she’ll buy you the most expensive gifts when she “makes it”
• you have to force her to put chapstick on and she’s so one of those people that only uses the original one with no fun flavors
• basketball shorts or boxers to sleep kind of girl
• always so warm omg (i am putting my cold feet on her idc)
• in conclusion i need her 🫡
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muwapsturniolo · 10 months ago
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✯𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲✯
IN WHICH…We experience a toxic relationship between a drug dealer and his baby momma
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! Toxic behaviors, slight domestic abuse (not really but I’m putting it as a warning anyway), drugs, sex, broken household
Words highlighted in orange is Chris and how he connects with the song. Pink highlighted words is Y/n (aka you) and how you connect with the song. Purple highlighted words is how both you and Chris (or others in the story) connect with the song.
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Chris sighs as the beaten-up screen door squeaks open, the hot LA air immediately rushing past his face. He lets it close by itself as he walks along the porch, taking a seat in his chair. He sets down his cup and sparks his blunt, closing his eyes as he inhales the grape-flavored tobacco leaf and weed.
The sound of laughter catches his attention, making him open his eyes. He scans the lawn briefly before he lands on two bodies rolling around in the yard, one bigger than the other.
He whistles catching both of their attention, the younger one gasping in excitement.
"Mama! Daddy is awake!"
Chris catches the eye of the child's mother and sighs.
I know this ship is sailed and this is dead I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP," yeah
He can see the irritation in her eyes, a feeling he has been all to familiar with for the last three years. He doesn’t know when it started but if he had to guess, it was a month after Kehlani was born, their relationship taking a turn for the worst.
The relationship was dead and he knew it, he knew from the beginning they wouldn't last. But he did it for her, he tried to make things work but it seemed like she was against him.
Kehlani runs as fast as her little legs can take her, diving right into Chris's lap. He laughs and quickly moves the blunt away so he won't burn the four-year-old, or get smoke in their face.
I know you gave up long time ago Boy, I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP"
Y/n watches Kehlani and Chris giggle and play with each other on the porch, her heart sinking. She hates to admit it but she was envious of her daughter having all of Chris's attention.
It seemed like he hated her.
From the moment Chris laid eyes on the child, she was pushed back on the backburner. It was difficult to handle, especially going through postpartum.
She tried to do better, act better, hoping Chris would give her an ounce of attention, but he would just ignore her.
She knew Chris had given up on their relationship a long time ago, and it hurt. However, she has come to terms with it.
She stands up and brushes the grass and dirt off her pants, walking towards the home. She runs up the porch steps and frowns seeing the blunt near her child.
She snatches the four-year-old off of his lap and gives him a dirty look, “Momma I want to stay with Daddy!”
“No, it’s lunch time and then you need to nap.” She says getting ready to walk in the house.
She stops when she hears Chris’s voice, “Let her stay out here while you make us lunch.” She turns and sees Chris putting the blunt in his mouth, his eyes trained on her.
“I said no, Finish your blunt and come make your own food.”
She opens the screen door and steps foot into the house, only to freeze hearing Chris’s mumbling.
“Fucking bitch.”
All I need's some Loving,
"Daddy, do you love me?" Kehlani's words make Y/n chuckle to herself, a small smile ghosting her lips.
"Of course I do baby. I love you with my whole life and beyond."
The four-year-olds next words make Y/n stop in her tracks, "Do you love momma the same amount?"
She knows what Chris is going to say, he's going to mask it to the child but he's going to make it clear that he doesn't love her.
She grabs the plates of food and starts walking to the table.
"I love momma a lot, the same way I love you"
His words catch Y/n off guard and she trips and falls, the plates breaking and the food going everywhere. Chris quickly sets Lani on the couch, telling her not to move before he rushes into the kitchen.
"What the fuck happened?" He asks as he sees Y/n surrounded by broken plates and food. "I-Im sorry, I ju-" his eyes soften seeing her sniffling, her eyes glossy with salt water.
He inches forward, careful to avoid the sharp glass before kneeling in front of her. "Talk to me ma, what's wrong?"
"Y-you said you love me....you haven't said it in so long." She sobs out, her whole body shaking. He quickly pulls her into him, rubbing her back softly. "Shh, I know, and I'm sorry. You know I love you baby, I could never stop loving you."
She sobs even harder and grips Chris tightly,
That's all she ever wanted to hear.
"Why don't we order tonight?"
some fucking
"Shhh mama you don't wanna wake Lani up do you?" Chris asks, holding back a groan himself. Y/n moans quietly, her head thrown back in pleasure.
"Taking me so well mama's. Whose pussy is this?"
"Fuck! it's yours- all yours daddy!"
"That's right."
And you say this shit don't matter But we always goin' at it, ain't no trustin
"Why do we always fight?" Chris asks holding the girl in his arms. He can see the gears turning in her head, thinking of multiple reason as to why they fight, but she tells him it doesn't matter.
"But it does matter...all we do is fight." He thinks to himself.
I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'
It's times like this that make Y/n despise the father of her child. He never wants to address anything, he always wants to leave shit in the air, causing more arguments.
She doesn't want argument, she hates arguing.
She wants love, but he has to settle for sex to 'cure' their problems.
And we fussin' and we fight, and you always wonder why
Y/n scoffs as Chris continues to yell at her, "You always do this stupid shit Y/n! You wanna love me one minute, then you accuse me of fucking cheating and hating you!"
"Because you fucking do!" She screams at the top of her lungs. Chris stares at her with no emotion, used to her raising her voice at him.
"You asked me the other night why we always fussin' and fighting and it's because of you!" She stabs her finger in his chest. "You treat me like shit! I hear you calling me out my fucking name, I catch you giving me dirty looks!"
"That doesn't mean I hate you! And it sure as hell doesn't mean I cheated on you!"
Y/n smiles with tears in her eyes, " But it does Chris...I'm not dumb, I've seen the texts in your phone, I've seen you come home with hickeys...and I won't forget the night you came home and told me you cheated on me, because my body changed after I gave birth to your child!"
Chris's stomach falls to his ass as he watches Y/n begin to pack a bag.
"W-Where are you going?"
And my mama told me, "None of this should come as a surprise"
"It hurts so much! I do my best and it's never enough!" Y/n sobs into her mother's arms. She had packed a bag and left with Kehlani after her and Chris's argument, not wanting to spend another second with him.
"Baby none of this should come as a surprise. I've been told you this when you were younger after your daddy." Y/n looks up at her mother in confusion, her brows furrowed.
"W-what did you tell me?"
" love don't come easy, it don't come easy"
Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy
"Don't give up on it yet baby...I know you want it to be a plain and simple game but you have to work for it, the both of you."
Times get hard, but nothing's easy
Let's go out
Y/n approaches Chris in the kitchen who is currently measuring out weed. She sits across from him and waits for him to acknowledge her. "What do you want?" He sounds irritated, making Y/n nervous. She looks down and fiddles with her fingers.
"I was thinking we could go out...like a date... like we used to."
Let's try it out
Chris stops measuring the weed and looks at her, "it was just a th-ok." He shrugs, leaning back in his chair.
"Really?"
She smiles genuinely, something he hasn't seen her do in a long time. He stands up and walks over to her, rubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, lets try it out." She breaks out into a wide grin and jumps up, planting a fat kiss on his cheek.
You don't hear me out,
Y/n sighs as Chris tells her to be quiet. They were in the car driving home when somehow, an argument started. All she said was that maybe he shouldn't sell as much so they could spend more time with each other.
That's why you always run your mouth,
"You always have shit to say! You never shut the fuck up! It's always complaints and trying to fucking act better than me, and I'm sick of this shit! Just shut your fucking mouth!"
We been talking 'bout our love's runnin' out But you don't hear me out, yeah
"You don't fucking listen to me Chris! that's why I keep saying the same shit!" Y/n yells as they enter the house. She throws her heels in the corner and rushes towards the bedroom, grabbing a bag.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asks, his eyes set on her frantic figure throwing clothes in the bag. She ignores him and goes to Kehlani's room, beginning to pack more clothes.
"I'm leaving you, that's what I'm doing. I'm taking Kehlani and leaving you!" She tries to move past Chris but he stands in her way. "You're not fucking leaving me Y/n, and you're not taking my child!" She ignores him and goes to step to the side but he moves with her. He grabs her making her jerk back, "Don't fucking touch me! Let me go Chri-YOU'RE NOT FUCKING LEAVING ME!" He slams her against the wall.
She winces as her head bounces off the wall, looking at Chris in fright.
That's why you always run your mouth
Chris's grip remains tight on her arms, his breathing heavy. "You're not leaving me, and you're not taking Lani either...J-just stop." His voice breaks as he stares into her eyes.
And all I need's some Lovin',
"You can't leave me, you c-can't take Lani away from me, please." His eyes begin to sting as tears blur his vision. "I'm tired of this Chris" Y/n croaks, her throat closing as she begins to cry as well. He nods, understanding her words. "I know ma, I know and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry-" he wraps his arms around her waist and starts to kiss along her jawline.
some fuckin'
"Let me make it up to you...Let me show you how much I love you."
And the sex is still compatible But I ain't got no manual for trustin'
She knows she shouldn't, she shouldn't crave his touch, she shouldn't crave to be intimate with him. She should put her foot down and stand ten toes on her threat of leaving, but she doesn't.
Chris sees her hesitancy and continues to convince her, promising he will change, promising he will be more loving.
She doesn't know if she believes him, but she gives in anyway.
I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'
Y/n's head is pushed into the pillows as Chris slams into her repeatedly.
"Fuck, I love you so much Ma. Say it, say you love me."
"Fuck! I love you!" She reaches back, holding Chris's hand as his dick slides in and out of her dripping cunt.
You say something isn't right, only fuckin', gettin' high
"This feels weird" Y/n mumbles as she and Chris sit on the couch. They had put Lani to bed around an hour ago, and now they are on the couch watching TV. Chris looks down at the girl snuggled into his side, "What are you talking about Ma?"
She sits up and crosses her legs, playing with the fraying couch, "I mean...It seems like all we do is have sex and get high. We never sit with each other all cuddled up and relaxed, we're always arguing." Chris sighs and pulls the girl onto his lap, "Is that what you want to do? You want to only argue, have sex, and get high with me?" Y/n shakes her head, begging to play with his chain.
"Good, because I don't want to either."
And my daddy told me, "Hold your heart in order to survive"
"You have to do better son. For yourself, and your family." Chris sighs as he listens to his father's words. "I'm trying pops, I really am it's just hard."
"I know it is, but you have to hold your heart in order to survive. What I mean by that is that, your heart is your lifeline, without it you would die. Y/n is your lifeline son. Without her, you would destroy yourself. Hold her close, cherish her, water her like a flower so both you and your family can grow."
'Cause love don't come easy, it don't come easy Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy
Y/n couldn't do it anymore.
She was fed up with the toxic relationship, so she left. She left while Chris was out dealing, throwing bags in her car and fleeing to her mothers house with Lani.
When Chris came home and saw the note on the fridge, he broke down. Vases being broken, and tables being flipped over as well.
He couldn't believe she gave up this easily on them, on what they could be.
Love don't come easy, it don't come easy (No, no) It don't come easy
Chris bangs on the door, waiting for someone to answer. eventually, it does open and he sees the girl who has been avoiding him for a month now.
"Chris?" She questions in confusion. She never told him she was staying at her mother's home, so to see him was a surprise. She crosses her arms and looks down at her shoes, "what do you want?"
"I want you back."
"Chris I do-"
Times get hard, but nothing's easy
tears form in her eyes as she looks at the ring in the box.
"I-I know I haven't been the best to you. I've said some horrible things to and about you, I-I cheated, and all in all, I treated you like shit. I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. I-I want- no- I need you in my life. You're my heart, my lifeline, my everything. I don't know what I would do without you."
"I'll do better I promise! Things won't be easy, but I'm going to try... Just please don't leave me...Don't take my family away from me, don't give up on me."
Tell your man you trust him
Y/n accepted the proposal, allowing Chris to put the ring on her finger. She quickly brings him into a hug, sobbing softly. "I'll do better, I promise. You just have to trust me Ma. I'll give you the whole world if you just trust me."
"I trust you"
Tell your girl you love her
"I love you so much Ma, I love you so much." He whispers as he rubs her back.
Tell your dad you miss him
"Daddy you're back!" Lani shouts as she runs up and hugs his leg. Chris sniffles and picks her up, wrapping one arm around her and the other around Y/n.
"I missed you so much!"
And call your mom and thank her
Y/n walks away from the father and daughter duo, calling her mother to thank her for being a good guide and letting her and Lani stay with her for the month.
Tell your daughter you love her
"I love you so much Lani, with my whole life." Chris expresses as he holds her close, grateful to have the child back in his arms.
Tell yourself you got this
It's unknown to both adults that their minds are reeling as they drive home, both of them giving themselves a mental pep talk.
"You got this, it will be different this time. everything will be better."
'Cause these times get hard, but nothing's easy
They come to a red light and Chris looks over to Y/n who is staring down at her engagement ring.
"I love you," he expresses as he takes hold of her hand.
"I love you too Chris."
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idk how i feel about this so if yall don't like it, ion blame you 😭
TAGLIST 🍑
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steddielations · 2 years ago
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Steve walks into utter chaos.
He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 
Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.
“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”
Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.
“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 
“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 
“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”
“Alright, take it off.”
Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.
“What?”
“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”
Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.
“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 
Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.
Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.
“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”
“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”
“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”
“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 
Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 
“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”
“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”
Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.
“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 
“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”
“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 
Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.
Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.
“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”
Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 
They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 
So Steve lets him have it.
Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 
Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.
Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 
“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 
Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.
It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 
Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.
And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.
for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!
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moonpascal · 5 months ago
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IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY
CHAPTER THREE I series masterlist WC: 5.6k
WARNINGS:
angst, language, nose bleed, headaches, asshole parents, pov switch, smoking, ron’s mean, roommate oc, flashback is italicized, let me know if i missed any
AUTHORS NOTE:
big thanks to the amazing @amiableness and @mischievousmoony for reading and helping me with this chapter! i love you both so much! couldn’t do it without you both!
hopefully this answers some questions you guys had! i had fun writing this!
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After a restless night, you wake up feeling somewhat refreshed, though a faint unease still lingers, like a shadow just out of sight. You push the feeling aside, blaming it on the inevitable tension of the upcoming war. No one could expect to feel fully relaxed until it’s all over.
Determined to shake off the dread, you pull on your house uniform and head out to meet the trio in your usual spot, hoping the familiar routine will help steady your nerves.
As you fumble with your crooked tie, cursing under your breath at its refusal to cooperate, you’re so absorbed in the task that you don’t notice someone approaching until it’s almost too late. You barely manage to stop yourself from crashing into them. When you look up, it’s Luna, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watches you wrestle with the stubborn knot.
“Morning,” she says softly, her voice like a gentle breeze. “Your tie seems to be having a bit of a rebellion.”
You let out a frustrated sigh, “It’s not the only thing,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.
Luna steps closer, her fingers brushing against yours as she takes over the task of fixing your tie. “There,” she says, her touch light but sure. “Sometimes, things just need a little extra patience.”
You’re about to thank her when she suddenly tilts her head, looking at you with that faraway gaze she’s known for.
“I think today will be important,” she muses, as if she’s sharing a secret with the universe.
You blink, caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”
Luna smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Just a feeling,” she replies, before turning and drifting away as if pulled by some unseen force, leaving you standing there, tie now perfectly straight, and the uneasy feeling from before somehow softened by her presence.
Reeling from your conversation with Luna, you continue walking through the castle until you spot Hermione and Ron waiting at your usual spot. But there’s no sign of Harry, which is strange—he’s always the first to arrive.
“Where’s Harry?” you ask, looking around.
“Forgot something in the library,” Ron replies, rolling his eyes. “Said he’d meet us there.”
You nod, though Ron’s irritation catches you off guard. He must’ve had a rough morning already.
The three of you head to the Great Hall and find your seats. As soon as you sit down, you start piling food onto your plate. After missing lunch and dinner yesterday, you’re starving.
The chatter of the hall is a welcome distraction, and as you bite into a piece of bacon, the savory flavor makes you sigh in contentment.
As you chew, you turn to Hermione, eager to share something that’s been on your mind. “Guess what weird piece of clothing I found in my dorm last night?” you ask, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
Hermione raises an eyebrow, already playing along. “Don’t tell me it was Grace again?”
“It was Grace!” you laugh, enjoying how well she knows your roommate’s antics. “I found a Slytherin tie and a couple of jumpers by my bed. Honestly, I hope they didn’t do anything on my bed,” you add, making a face.
Hermione’s eyes widen, but before she can respond, you remember something else. “Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you guys,” you say, pulling a small locket from under your shirt.
You fumble with the chain a bit, trying to unsnag it from the loose thread on your tie. “Do you remember where I got this locket?”
You hold it up, letting the gold catch the light as you rotate it in your fingers. Ron opens his mouth to say something, but before he can get a word out, Harry suddenly appears at your side, his expression tense.
“Ron, Hermione, I need to talk to you—now,” Harry says, his voice urgent. He grabs both of them by the shoulders, startling all three of you.
“What’s going on?” you ask, but Harry’s already pulling them to their feet.
“Sorry, Trouble. We’ll be right back,” he says quickly before dragging them out of the hall, leaving you behind.
You watch them go, feeling a pang of exclusion. They’ve always had their secrets, but it still stings to be left out. You poke at your food, appetite waning, and glance around the Great Hall at the other students, all absorbed in their own lives. The noise that was comforting a moment ago now feels distant and hollow.
As you finish what you can manage, the morning owl post arrives, letters and packages dropping onto the tables. You’re surprised when two letters land in front of you instead of the usual one. You pick up the one from your parents first, already bracing yourself for the sharp words you know are coming. Carefully, you break the seal and unfold the letter.
“We heard you had an accident and fell. That is no excuse to fall behind in your studies. Make sure you catch up on any missed work immediately and seek extra credit if possible. You need to follow in your sister’s footsteps or you’ll never amount to anything—”
The words blur as a sharp pain stabs through your head. Your vision swims, and the hall around you seems to tilt.
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You blink, trying to clear your head, when you see Theodore standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you.
“What are you doing out here?” you mutter, your voice thick with the remnants of the pain.
“I could ask you the same, Tesoro,” he replies, stepping closer. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of concern in it. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
You turn away, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m not in the mood, Nott.”
He doesn’t back off. Instead, he reaches out, gently catching your arm as you start to move away. “Hey, I’m not here to cause trouble,” he says softly. “Just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
For a moment, you consider brushing him off, but something in his voice makes you pause. You sigh, the fight draining out of you as you sink back down onto the bench.
He sits beside you, keeping a respectful distance. The silence stretches between you, but it doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected. After a while, you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket and hand it to him without a word.
He takes it, glancing at you before he starts reading. You watch his expression harden as he scans the lines, his jaw tightening with each word. When he’s finished, he folds the letter neatly and hands it back to you.
“They’re wrong, you know,” he says quietly. “You’re worth more than that.”
You look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks,” you whisper, though the words feel inadequate.
Theodore leans back, looking up at the sky. “You know, sometimes burning things like that helps,” he says casually, as if suggesting the most normal thing in the world. “It’s like telling them to go to hell.”
You blink, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Burn it?”
He nods. “Yeah. Why keep something that only hurts you?”
You consider his words for a moment, then slowly nod. “Yeah, okay. Let’s burn it.”
A small smile tugs at his lips as you take your wand out, feeling a little lighter. “Incendio,” you whisper, and the letter catches fire, the flames consuming the harsh words. You watch as the paper crumples and turns to ash, a strange sense of relief washing over you.
“Thanks, Theodore,” you say, glancing at him with a genuine smile. Somehow, he’s made the weight on your chest feel a little lighter.
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“Trouble! Trouble!” Harry’s urgent voice pulls you back to reality. You’re still in the Great Hall, with Harry gripping your shoulders, his face etched with concern.
“What… what happened?” you ask, feeling disoriented. Your hand instinctively moves to your face, where you feel the warm, sticky sensation of blood trickling from your nose.
“You’re bleeding,” Harry says, his eyes wide. “We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey, now.”
“No, it’s fine,” you say, pulling away slightly. “I can go on my own. You should get to class.”
Harry hesitates, worry etched on his face, but Hermione steps in, gently pushing him aside. “I’ll stay with her,” she says, giving Harry a reassuring nod.
As you wipe the blood from your nose, Hermione takes you by the arm and guides you out of the Great Hall. You can feel the weight of curious stares from your classmates, but you focus on Hermione’s calm presence beside you.
“I don’t want to see Madam Pomfrey,” you start to protest, a hint of anxiety creeping into your voice. You know you should go, but something inside you resists. That vivid memory from earlier—it felt so real. But why was Theodore Nott, of all people, in it?
“I know,” Hermione replies softly, her voice soothing. “We’ll go to your dorm instead. You can rest there.”
Her understanding surprises you, as if she knows exactly what’s weighing on your mind. You try to piece together the memory. It lingers, just out of reach, teasing you with its importance.
You’re lost in thought, your surroundings blurring into insignificance until Hermione pulls you into your dorm room. She sits you down on your rumpled bed, her face etched with concern.
“Hermione, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to steady your racing thoughts as you notice the tension in her posture.
Hermione takes a deep breath, clearly struggling with how to begin.
“Something happened… something we didn’t want you to find out like this.”
A cold knot forms in your stomach. “What do you mean?”
She hesitates, then says carefully, “The fall you think you had… it wasn’t a fall. You were hit by a spell—by accident.”
Your mind races, trying to make sense of her words. “A spell? What kind of spell?”
“A memory charm,” Hermione says quietly, her eyes locking onto yours. “It was meant to erase specific memories. But it didn’t go as planned, and you were caught in the crossfire.”
You feel the blood drain from your face. “A memory charm… but I remember everything, don’t I?”
Hermione shakes her head slightly. “Not everything. We think it’s caused gaps, places where something important used to be but isn’t anymore.”
Your heart pounds as you try to wrap your mind around what she’s saying. “What did I forget? How much have I lost?”
“That’s the problem,” Hermione says, her voice gentle. “We can’t exactly tell you what’s missing. We’re trying to figure it out, but it’s tricky. We didn’t want to tell you until we had more answers.”
You feel a mix of fear and anger rising. “So, you were just going to let me walk around not knowing?”
“No!” Hermione says quickly. “We were going to tell you, we just needed time to understand it ourselves. But we found you unresponsive and bleeding…”
You sit in stunned silence, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “What now?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“We’ll work through this together,” Hermione promises. “We’ll do everything we can to help you recover what you’ve lost, or at least figure out what happened.”
Her words are meant to comfort you, but the reality of missing pieces of your life—of not knowing what’s been taken—leaves you feeling detached. Hermione remains by your side, her presence a steady source of reassurance as you struggle to process this overwhelming revelation.
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Theos pov: prior day
Theo hadn’t had much time to process the chaos Potter had unleashed. The shock of learning that you no longer remembered him, followed by the sting of your angry outburst, had left him feeling numb, as if he were moving through the day in a fog. He wasn’t even sure how he had made it back to the dorm. Everything felt surreal, as if he were watching someone else’s life unravel before his eyes.
He barely registered walking into the common room. Even Mattheo’s attempts to get his attention seemed distant and muted, like he was hearing them through water. It wasn’t until Mattheo physically grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a shake that Theo snapped back to reality.
“Salazar, Theo, you really zoned out there,” Mattheo said with a hint of concern, though he tried to keep it light. His eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Trouble?”
The question hit Theo like a punch to the gut. His body tensed, and the words he needed to say seemed to lodge in his throat. How could he possibly explain what had happened? How could he tell his best mate that he’d been secretly fighting against everything their house stood for, and that you—his girlfriend—had been caught in the crossfire?
Mattheo would probably tell him that he deserved it, that this was the price of betraying his house. Or worse, he might report it to his father, who would ensure that Voldemort dealt with Theo personally.
“She… she had a nasty fall yesterday,” Theo forced the words out, his voice strained. He hoped it would be enough to satisfy Mattheo, but his friend wasn’t so easily convinced.
“That why you disappeared last night? Is she okay?” Mattheo asked, his tone more serious now, his earlier humor fading.
“She doesn’t remember me,” Theo muttered, the words barely audible. It was the first time he’d spoken them aloud, and doing so made it all feel too real, too painful.
“What do you mean?” Mattheo asked, his expression hardening as the gravity of the situation began to dawn on him. Trouble who had been a pain in his ass and was finally tolerating you. Theo didn’t want to say it again, didn’t want to feel that same stabbing pain in his chest. But Mattheo wasn’t letting it go.
“Theo, what do you mean?” he pressed, his voice sharp and demanding.
“She remembers everything but me! Our entire relationship—gone!” Theo snapped, the frustration and despair that had been building up since the incident finally boiling over. He shoved Mattheo back, his fists clenched tightly as if ready for a fight.
The anger, the helplessness, the grief—they all mingled together, pushing him to the brink. Tears threatened to spill, but he refused to break down, not in front of Mattheo, not in front of anyone but you.
“Hey, don’t take it out on me! I’m trying to help,” Mattheo shot back, stepping closer as if to challenge him, his tone now serious and firm. Theo scoffed in response, rolling his eyes as he pushed past him, desperate to reach the solitude of his room.
Theo slammed the door behind him with a force that reverberated through the room, but he barely noticed the sound. He couldn’t breathe; it felt like the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him.
Everything he cared about—everything that mattered—had been ripped away, and he had no idea how to get it back.
His gaze swept across the room, taking in the chaotic disarray of his belongings, though none of it seemed to register fully. His bed, unmade from where you had slept just the night before, looked like a mocking reminder of what he had lost.
Your tie, casually draped over his desk, next to the book you two had been reading together every night, felt like a relic of a time that had suddenly been erased. Little parchment notes, filled with love and encouragement, were scattered across the surfaces, each one a painful echo of a relationship that now existed only in his memory.
It was unbearable.
Desperate for an outlet, Theo grabbed the nearest object—a chair—and hurled it at the floor with all his strength. The wood splintered and cracked, pieces flying in every direction. A sharp shard sliced across his cheek, but the pain was a mere blip against the emotions raging inside him. It wasn’t enough; the destruction did nothing to quell the storm.
His eyes locked onto the fire poker resting by the fireplace, an innocent object that suddenly felt like the perfect instrument for his fury. He seized it, gripping it with both hands, and began to swing wildly at his bed.
The metal struck the wooden pillars with a resounding crash, splintering the supports, shattering the structure into ruins. His yells filled the room, raw and primal, as he tore through the space, obliterating everything within reach.
When there was nothing left to destroy, when the room was nothing but a mess of shattered wood, glass shards, and torn fabric, Theo collapsed against what remained of his bed. His back slid down the broken frame until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the debris of his breakdown.
The numbness crept in, dulling the edges of his anger and grief, leaving him feeling hollow and lost. He stared blankly at the wall, his mind on the brink of spiraling again, unable to grasp what he was supposed to do next. How could he fix something so deeply broken?
His gaze shifted, and something caught his eye—a flash of color peeking out from under the bed. It was your jumper, partially hidden but unmistakable. He reached for it quickly, almost desperately, and when his fingers closed around the familiar fabric, he pulled it close. Dusting it off, he clutched it to his chest, his breath hitching as he buried his face in the soft material. Your scent lingered faintly, a comforting trace of you that seemed to cut through the haze of despair.
As he inhaled deeply, the tears finally came, silent and unchecked, sliding down his face as he held your jumper tighter. It was the first real release he’d allowed himself, the first moment he’d let the weight of everything truly hit him.
He had to find a way to fix this, to make things right. After his first class, he’d start working on a plan. He had to see you, make sure you were okay—and selfishly, because he couldn’t stand being apart from you any longer.
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Theo rushed to class, almost knocking over several students in his haste. He didn’t bother apologizing; his mind was fixated solely on seeing you.
As he burst through the door, earning a few glances from his peers, his eyes immediately sought you out. There you were, sitting in your usual spot, and for a brief moment, Theo allowed himself to hope that maybe everything would be normal again. But as he approached and took the seat beside you, the tension in your posture made it clear he had been too optimistic.
He tensed in response, trying to keep himself together, even as the nausea of your apparent discomfort around him threatened to overwhelm him. Maybe it was a mistake to come to class instead of diving straight into research. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing you like this, not in his current fragile state. But what about you? Were you alright?
Lavender’s voice suddenly cut through his thoughts as she asked how you were doing. Theo’s heart raced, dreading what you might say, what Lavender might tell you.
This wasn’t how you should find out—not after everything that happened this morning. So he quickly cleared his throat, giving Lavender a sharp look that silently begged her to drop the subject.
Luckily, the professor began the lesson before anyone could say more. But Theo wasn’t paying attention; his focus was entirely on you. He watched as you suddenly winced, shutting your eyes tightly and massaging your temples. His heart clenched in his chest. He knew you suffered from migraines, but this one seemed different, more intense.
Normally, Theo would offer comfort, holding your hand or rubbing your back—anything to help ease the pain. You had always said his touch brought you relief, that his warmth helped you get through the worst of it.
But now, how could he offer that comfort when you seemed so distant? The image you had of him now wasn’t the same as it was yesterday. Still, he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.
He leaned over, pretending to need more ink, subtly brushing against you. To his relief, he noticed your body relax slightly, and he felt a small surge of pride. It seemed your body still recognized him, even if your mind was struggling.
He stayed close for the rest of the class, finding some solace in being near you, even if it wasn’t the same. When the lesson finally ended, you remained seated, your breathing shaky. Theo wrestled with himself before finally finding the courage to speak.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
His voice seemed to pull you from whatever trance you were in, and you answered him hesitantly, clearly torn between confiding in him and holding back. Theo could see the conflict in your eyes, mirroring the turmoil in his own heart. To be so close to you yet feel so distant was a cruel irony.
Tentatively, he reached out, resting his hand on yours. The familiar softness of your skin was almost too much for him to bear. The urge to pull you into his arms was overwhelming, but he resisted. And then, to his dismay, you apologized.
Of course, you would apologize. Theo deflated, disappointment crashing over him. For a fleeting moment, it had felt like everything was normal again, like this was just the aftermath of a minor argument. But reality was far harsher.
This wasn’t a simple fix, and Theo wasn’t going to get an easy resolution.
Accepting your apology was a small hurdle, but saying your name instead of the endearing terms he used to call you—amore, tesoro—hurt the most. It felt foreign, like a painful reminder of how deeply the spell had affected you.
He could see that you wanted to say more, but then you recoiled, almost tipping backward in your chair. Instinctively, Theo reached out and caught you before you could hurt yourself further.
“Whoa, easy there. What’s happening?” he nearly let amore slip out, but caught himself just in time. Before he could say anything else, you excused yourself and hurried out of the classroom. Theo watched you go, his eyes never leaving your retreating figure, wishing he could take away whatever pain you were feeling.
Determined, Theo hastily grabbed his bag and decided to skip the rest of his classes. He needed to get to the library. Madam Pince could take all the points from Slytherin for all he cared. He was going to get to the bottom of this.
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Theo stood frozen in the library, staring at the seemingly endless shelves of books. He didn’t know where to start, and the thought of asking Madam Pince for help made him grimace. He didn’t have the time or patience to search the entire library by himself. With a frustrated huff, he yanked off his robe, tossed his bag onto a nearby table, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves before reluctantly seeking out Pince.
“Mr. Nott, shouldn’t you be in class?” Irma Pince’s voice cut through his thoughts, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in disapproval.
“What are the call numbers for any information on the Obliviate spell?” Theo snapped, too agitated to explain himself.
Her eyes widened slightly at his sharp tone, clearly displeased with his lack of manners. “Ten points from Slytherin, Nott,” she replied icily, before guiding him to the section he needed.
After a short walk, she pointed to the relevant shelves. “This better be for research only and not some mischief you boys are planning,” she warned, her gaze stern and unyielding.
Theo barely concealed his irritation, rolling his eyes in blatant annoyance. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, brushing past her to scan the shelves for useful books.
Pince stalked off, leaving him to his task. He gathered a few books and an old Daily Prophet article, his arms heavy with the weight of them. He dropped the books onto the table, pulled out some parchment, and prepared to take notes—anything that might help fix the mess he was in.
Starting with The Standard Book of Spells, Theo flipped through the pages until he found the section on the Memory Charm.
“The Memory Charm (Obliviate), also known as the Forgetfulness Charm, was a charm that could be used to erase specific memories from an individual’s mind. It was different from the spell that created false memories.”
Theo sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. This wasn’t new information—it was basic knowledge. Moving on, he opened the Daily Prophet article, hoping for something more useful.
“Obliviate is the incantation for a Memory Charm, a spell that erases specific memories from an individual’s mind. It is one of the most potent and potentially dangerous spells, as it can lead to severe and permanent memory loss if used incorrectly.”
His stomach churned as he read on, the words making his anxiety worse.
“The strength of the Obliviate spell depends on the caster, and in some cases, it can destroy memory so thoroughly that a witch or wizard may lose their sense of identity.”
Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. The thought of you losing yourself completely was unbearable. He couldn’t let that happen. For both your sakes—and Harry’s—this had to be fixable.
After jotting down some notes, Theo grabbed the next book, A History of Magic, and started skimming through it. Most of the information was redundant, but then his eyes caught something that made his blood run cold.
“Reversing the effects of Obliviate is extremely difficult, if not impossible in some cases. Restoration of memories may require highly specialized magical treatment and is not always successful. Memory Charms could be broken through torture.”
Theo nearly gagged. The mere thought of you being hurt, let alone tortured, was more than he could bear. He forced himself to push those dark thoughts aside, continuing to scan the text. His eyes widened as he came across a bold warning.
“Caution: If the spell is carelessly cast, the brain will be in a delicate state. If you stress this person too much or aren’t careful when trying to restore their mind/memories, the results could be unpredictable, even leading to a complete breakdown of the mind.”
“Side effects may include headaches, fainting, vomiting, bloody noses, and/or completely losing themselves. Keep the person calm, distract them, or give them a Sleeping Draught.”
Theo’s heart seemed to stop. He’d seen you suffer from a headache earlier, and now he was certain that the spell had left you in this delicate state. Despair gnawed at him as he realized how little progress he was making. The hope of finding a safe way to restore your memories was slipping through his fingers.
Reluctantly, Theo acknowledged that he needed to tell Harry what he’d found. Your friends might make things worse if they tried to help without knowing the risks. Gathering his things, Theo abruptly stood up, leaving the mess on the table behind as he hurried out of the library. He needed to find those blithering idiots—your friends—before they unintentionally made things worse.
But as Theo stepped into the hallway, he was surprised to find the castle cloaked in darkness. Hours had slipped away unnoticed, swallowed by his mounting anxiety and frantic search for answers. The realization hit him hard—he’d spent the entire day buried in books with nothing to show for it but a sense of helplessness.
He leaned against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, but he knew he couldn’t afford to crumble now. Tomorrow, he’d have to face them—your friends. They’d have to work together, whether he liked it or not.
Theo took a deep breath, the resolve hardening within him. First thing tomorrow, Theo vowed, he’d get them involved. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t stop until everything was set right.
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Morning couldn’t come soon enough. Theo barely slept, his mind too consumed with worry about you. The absence of your familiar presence beside him made the night feel endless—he longed to wake up and see your peaceful face, to trace the contours of your features like he used to. What he wouldn’t give to have that back.
He needed to reach Harry quickly; there was no time to waste. Theo jumped out of bed and dressed hurriedly, ignoring the curious glances from his dorm mates—he was never up this early. 
Bounding up the stairs to the Gryffindor entrance, he didn’t care that he irritated the portrait lady as she reluctantly let him in. Thankfully, he found Harry’s dorm room without much trouble, and quietly crept inside. Theo moved to Harry’s bed, clamping a hand over his mouth, startling him awake.
Harry jolted, wide-eyed and reaching for his wand before realizing it was Theo, which did little to ease his nerves. Theo, unbothered by Harry’s panic, rolled his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. He motioned for Harry to follow, stepping back toward the door and waiting for him to get dressed.
Once Harry left a note for Ron, the two headed out, Harry nervously trailing behind Theo. They made their way to a secluded corner of the library, where Theo suddenly stopped, causing Harry to nearly bump into him. Theo turned to face him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“Things are worse than I thought, Potter,” Theo began, his tone cold. “Her condition is more fragile than we realized.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though the guilt of what he had done was eating away at him. You had always been there for him, and now, because of him, you were suffering.
“Because you didn’t mean to cast the spell on her, it left her mind in a delicate state,” Theo explained, barely containing his frustration. “We can’t let anything stress her out. The side effects could be devastating, and we could lose her completely if we don’t handle this right.”
Harry nodded, already sensing where this conversation was headed. Despite the tension between them, he knew they had no choice but to work together. “What do we do?”
Theo sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know yet, but what I do know is that I’m the only thing missing from her memories. We need to keep researching.”
“We should tell the others too,” Harry suggested, realizing the importance of getting everyone on the same page.
Theo agreed, though with a note of urgency. “You go get them. I needed to talk to you first before they start interrupting.”
As Harry left to gather Ron and Hermione, Theo stepped out into the corridor, his nerves on edge. It had been two days since he last had a cigarette, and the stress was getting to him. He pulled one out, lit it, and inhaled deeply, letting the familiar sensation calm him as the cool morning air brushed against his face.
His thoughts drifted to you—how you’d always hold your breath when he smoked, jokingly scolding him but never actually asking him to quit. You hated the smell, but you’d still kiss him if he asked. The memory brought a small, bittersweet smile to his face.
As he spotted the trio approaching out of the corner of his eye, Theo sighed and flicked the cigarette out the window.
“So, what does this tosser want?” Ron muttered as they neared. Ron had never liked Theo, always suspecting he had ulterior motives with you.
Theo rolled his eyes. “I’m here to make sure you lot don’t make things worse,” he retorted.
Ron glared at him, ready to snap back, but Hermione quickly intervened. “You mean Trouble?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.
Theo bristled at the nickname—he always found it annoying and unoriginal. “Who else?” he replied, irritation seeping into his tone. “You have to keep her calm. There are too many risks involved, and we can’t afford to make her condition worse.”
“How do we fix it?” Hermione asked, her worry for you evident.
“We don’t know yet,” Harry admitted, “but we can’t stress Trouble out, while we figure it out.”
Theo added, his voice firm, “If she starts to realize she’s lost memories, don’t tell her what they are—especially not about me. She doesn’t remember anything about us, only what came before. If you spring it on her, it could be catastrophic.”
“Why should she remember you anyway? I’d say that’s a win, don’t you think?” Ron sneered, a smirk playing on his lips.
Harry’s eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly stepped in front of Ron, blocking Theo from moving closer. “He’s joking! We’re going to fix this,” Harry assured, trying to defuse the situation.
Theo’s jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his temper in check. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and rolled his head to the side before continuing.
He explained the potential side effects, what to watch out for, and how to keep you calm if a situation arose. They agreed to meet regularly throughout the week to share their findings and come up with a plan.
With everything said, the trio left Theo standing in the hallway as they headed back to the Great Hall—and to you.
Theo watched them go, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a stone. As much as he disliked relying on Harry and his friends, he knew they were all you had now. And if they didn’t handle this right, it could ruin everything.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he tried to clear his thoughts. He needed to stay focused, to keep his head straight if they were going to find a solution. There was no room for mistakes, no second chances. They had to get this right or lose you forever.
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on-the-clear-blue · 2 months ago
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So I was thinking and like, the Batfam all come from vastly different backgrounds, and like everything in life, food is easily the best way to truly see someone.
Bruce likely grew up eating the same thing every day in the way of "Fridays are Lamb chops, Sunday is Pot roast" because that's how it was just done those days.
His father was a well to-do man, a gigh class doctor and his mother was a socialite, they held their postion highly and knew what was expected of them, even by their staff.
Martha always worked withe chef for meal plans, changing things for holidays or if they would have guests but always had a base she built off of.
It was that base that Bruce clung to after they died, sure the chef left, the other maids and servants going wirh him, leaving just Alfred (he was just a butler, he ran the house, told people what to do not cook)
But Alfred, a man who been through war and acting school did what he did best, He adapted, becoming more than just his title of Butler.
Now think of all that being flipped on its head by little Dickie, freshly orphaned from his loving family. His loving Romani family that traveled across world that likely ate different cuisines every time they stopped in a country. (This is in fact a call back to my baby dick post)
Just...
Dickie, staring wide eyed at just the amount of meat on his plate: It...it's all for me?
Bruce, staring back with confusion: Do you need more? Alfred get Dicke more food, clearly this isn't enough for him.
I love the idea that Dickie pulls a face when he sees mashed potatoes for the third day in a row, he is crying and sad, he missed rice! Fresh veggies! Where was the flavor?? Why was everything so rich?
And Bruce adapts, he is the God damn Batman, of course he adapts, and the perfect schedule of foods he always knew would be on each day of the week is changed, oh of course he doesn't like it but it's for his son child so of course he puts up with it.
(Yes he can't handle the spice, he might of traveled the world for 5 years but he lived off of energy bars and MREs so he didn't have to think about food while traning)
Then his son is gone, (its all his fault why does this always happen why can't he just say what he means to say) and the schedule comes back. Was pot roast always this bland? When did the mashed peas start to seem unpleasant?
Then...Jason is in his life, it's a whirlwind of things, trying to get him comfortable in a place that seemed like a fairy tale.
Jason, who lived on the streets for years, Jason who even before he was homeless was in a poor household, who made ketchup sandwiches cus he was able to snatch a few from the gas station when the clerk wasn't looking, who thought fresh veggies were a special treat meant to be savored, who always felt loved when his mom saved up a bit and they got smoked turkey legs and boiled them up in a soup.
That Jason looks at the offered food and feels uncomfortable, all that was far to much for him.
Jason, frowning at his bowl of soup: Um...what's the big bits of green?
Bruce, looking up from his case file: Hn, it's herbs Jaylad, I think basil and parsley.
Jason, nodding but clearly doesn't know: Oh yeah...totally see that now...
Unlike Dick, Jason doesn't ask for things, doesn't want to be a burden to the guy who took him in, so he eats and doesn't throw a fit.
(The first night Jason actually ate with Bruce the kid nearly ate till he threw up, not wanting to waste a single bit.)
It was months later when Jason finally asked for something another and...
Jason, fidgeting: So B...Um...I wanted to ask but uh...C-can I just get like...actual crackers and stuff? Not those fancy rich people ones but like...Ritz? Cheese wiz? I...I just...I don't like blue cheese.
Bruce, blinking in rich person: Ritz...as in the hotel? I can ask Alfred about a cheese wizard but...Hn..
Later
Bruce, fighting Condiment King: Do you know a Cheese Wizard?
Then Jason, his boy, his and Gotham light dies, Bruce finds his body broken and beaten and- he was breathing Bruce got him in time- he didn't. The boy wasn't responding. His boy. His Jason died in his arms. Choking out sobs as he couldn't get enough air in, coughing and shuddering as he tried to get the smoke out
(Jason's death certificate says he dies of smoke inhalation, the explosion didn't kill him, it was the fumes afterward)
Then Bruce shuts down, he becomes the Batman fully, Bruce Wayne died with his son that day and all that was left was the Bat.
Then a pesky boy put on Bruce's sons outfit, charged in and saved him. Pulling the man back from the brink kicking and screaming and crying.
Tim wasn't a son to Bruce (couldn't be, wouldn't allow him to be) he came every evening for training and patrol and then he was gone and that was all Bruce had to think about the boy.
Then he saw Jason in Tim, saw Dickie, saw himself and before Bruce knew he was caring for the kid.
Asking to say for a post patrol snack was first denied, about a dozen times before Tim broke, humming and quickly downing that German dish that Dick always wanted when he was feeling sick.
Tim slowly started to settle, growing a bit more lax in his own right, like a feral cat slowly becoming more comfortable with someone.
(No he didn't take advice from Selina...there isn't any proof)
Bruce, sitting at the bat computer, watching the reflection of Tim training in the background:
Tim, winded and tired after a few minutes and having to take a break, pulls out a protein bar:
Bruce, Vietnam war like flash back to his own training days where he only lived off ration bars: pained Hn
And once more Bruce adapts, learns. Tim won't stay for dinner, won't stay the night after a hard patrol, but Bruce can tempt him, with little things, a bit of jerky instead of what Bruce knows for sure are bulk baught meal replacement bars during a stake out, a thing of left overs (they arnt actually, Alfred made them just for Tim) of "last nights dinner"
Bruce is 75% sure Tim knows but neither say anything.
Then tragedy rears its ugly head and Tim's parents are dead, first his mother, his father in a coma and...Tim choses to run away, hiding behind an uncle Bruce is very much aware didn't exist three days ago, and he can't do anything more than what he has already.
Then his boy (God not again why does he always get attached) losses his father, murdered by a God damn Flash rogue.
(The angry rant Barry gets about keeping track of criminals and their whereabouts become legendary in the Leauge)
Finally Bruce's boy is at the Manor and...Bruce sees him, almost for the first time behind the mask of "Tim Drake, the nice young man" he's reclusive, obsessive and picks at his food more than he eats. Surviving on snack foods and energy drinks.
It's a chore to get the boy to eat anything that wasn't out of a package or a box (and Bruce gets it he really did, knowing what it will taste like and knowing it will always taste the same was very comforting) but he managed.
Then like a hurricane Damian is brought into his life, his son, (he has another, one he never knew about and oh God he already loves him, already would die to have the boy trust) and then-
He's gone.
He's flung through time and lost and lives not his own are played out and things he never thought would be comforting are.
Then...then he is found and God it's been months, it's been ages and...
Dick is more Damians father than he could ever be, was there for him in was Bruce should have been...
Dick leaves again, but not as far as Jump city, comes to stay at Bludhaven. (So close but so far away, why didn't he want to stay?)
Jason comes back just as he came into this world, screaming and covered in blood (His boy, his Jaylad ALIVE BREATHING)
Tim has matured, changed, and he walks differently now, far more like Ra's stride (Why does Tim get dead look in his eyes now? What has his son seen? What has he done...)
And Damian. He only was with him briefly, not nearly long enough to see his LoA mask drop, to see the boy beneath the weapon.
That mask goes back on when Bruce returns, he sees the true Damian for a moment before it is shut off fully, sees his son (God did he say how much he loves the boy already?) Softly petting a cat names Alfred before noticing Bruce.
And like all times before, Bruce adapts, changes his approach yet again.
Damian responds to violence, he expects to be yelled at and will only respect a choice if it was fought for, Bruce knows this and...he messes up some times, takes the easy way out and does what the boy know and Bruce feels the guilt.
But he tries to connect, past the way of pain that Damian knows.
Damian, fuming in his room after an argument with Bruce, angrily looking at the wall: 😠
Bruce, knocking on the door, then opening it a second later, not saying anything as he sets down a bowl of mango on Damians bedside table, then leaves.
Damian, grumbling as he eats the fruit of forgiveness: Stupid Father...
(He 100% asked Talia what she normally does and it seemed to work)
Their relationship is rocky, but they find moments where they touch, where Father and Son find a soft moment, Damian teaching Bruce how to make his grandfather's Chai blend, Bruce in turn teaching his son how to make latkes, an exchange of their pasts together.
Then Cassandra comes and Bruce is thrown for a loop once more, she is unlike any of his other children, she is open, painfully so, she might seemed closed off, silent and deadly...but Bruce can see her, truly see her as she wants to be seen and she is screaming, hurt and scared and all alone.
He takes her home, David Cain can try and take his daughter away but there will be hell to pay.
And then she is home, she is settled in a life where she can learn more than just violence.
She stares at the plate of food that is put in front of her the first dinner that Bruce's family has together (HE HAS A FAMILY! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?)
And she cries.
It is just as she wanted but she didnt know what to do, David Cain was a horrid man, in his chase for the perfect weapon he long left the idea of pleasure and care by the way side.
So Cass was overwhelmed by actual food, not nutrient dense bars that tasted bitter and was ash on her tongue.
Cass, pitifully looking down at an orange: HOW DO I EAT YOU?
Bruce looking on from his seat: Sweetheart? Don't eat the peel, Cass-Cass. No. Cassandra please. N-No not the lime! Put that down! You're just going to...that.
Cass, looking pained from eating a whole lime at once: 😞
Bruce, looking equally pained: Sweetheart you can spit it out...
And Bruce thinks his family is big enough, with his boys and his wonderful daughter (no Steph and Barbara didn't count, as they both kept on insisting, they both still had parents)
And then comes along Duke and...God he is already signing the foster papers before he could think too hard.
Duke is unlike the rest of his children as in he is batshit insane but hides it far better than he has any right too.
Bruce tries to not pull his hair out as the kid talks about how he made a kinda cult around Robin and lead them to help the Bats...
It takes time for Duke to get used to the Manor, but he does slowly, finding his place in the family much easier than they all assumed.
Unlike the rest of his children, for some reason it is easy for Bruce to speak with Duke, it's as if they both think similarly.
If Bruce wanted any of his children to take up the cowl when he dies (Which he very much would not like thank you very much) Bruce is hesitant to fully say Cass would be the next Bat, while Cassandra has the fists to do it, Duke had the dedication and drive to, the mental state to truly be the Dark Knight.
Bruce, in the cave, hour 36 with out sleep, 5 coffees deep into a conspiracy: hn.
Duke, right there with him, missed two days of school and hasn't stopped drinking energy drinks: Hm?
Bruce, wordlessly passing the files over, before pulling a face at Dukes energy drinks: Hn..
Duke, taking files but offended on his poor babies behalf, popping one open and dumping it into Bruce's (empty) coffee cup: Have some you marshmallow looking ass...fuck out my face B.
Bruce, scowling, taking a sip before freezing for a full minute, (its the fruit juice kinda monster) his body hasn't has nutrients in a while and are all over this: Hmm...Nice.
(Duke shares more, cus while his dad is not able to be there for him, Bruce is more of that weird uncle that the rest of the family don't talk about.)
It's not till someone at a gala complains, saying "I understand he has an obsession with those...children, but why does everything have to be about them, I miss the old menu for these things." That Bruce realizes that the predetermined, predictable life he once clung to was gone, dead and long buried...and Bruce couldn't care about it less.
(That Gala person gets personally banned and their business is outed for all the shitty things they have done.)
---
This....this was far longer than what I meant this to be...I just wanted to talk about what they would like and what kinda food the batfams culture has but um...this got way outta hand...so ya.
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