#omelet of the king

[maplesugarcookie]

Not calling Wukong a straight up hero or Macaque a straight up villain, but this is them, right?

Instead of a stoic hero and a chatty villain or a chatty hero and a stoic villian imagine if they’re both chatty. Just, the villian trying their best to kill the hero while the two of them have a in-depth discussion about their opinion of pumpkin spice

[thoughtfulfiction]

Carpe Diem

Author’s Note: We all miss him. So I wrote the most romantic thing I’ve ever written.

A glass of chilled Savasana California Rosé sat in front of you, its diluted pink hue a stark contrast to the sweet yet crisp taste. With a fork in hand you begin to dig into the chicken parmesan with strozzapreti pasta, the chunky tomato sauce brings a rich and comforting smell that shifts your attention from the constant hum of the plane's engine. Eating dinner on a plane like this—silverware instead of plastic cutlery, wine served in real glass—felt oddly surreal. This whole trip did, like you’d stumbled into someone else’s life.

You hadn’t always pictured yourself in this life—a corner office in Berkeley, managing accounts worth millions and rubbing elbows with executives. The internship you’d applied for during your junior year of college was meant to be a stepping stone, a way to pad your resume and have something cool to look back on the future. You hadn’t expected it to become the foundation of a career at a place ranked 7th among the largest biomedical companies by revenue in the world. And here you were sipping rosé in first class on your way to a solo vacation in Greece. Somehow, it had all come together. Your first year making six figures was surreal enough, but now the freedom to spend it on something like this felt even more unbelievable.

The hotel room you would be calling home for the next few days was stretched out like it came straight out of a travel magazine. Everything about it screamed neutral paradise, highlighting the warmth of the space. Plush pillows stacked neatly atop the Temper-Pedic king sized bed that earned the hotel all five of its stars with just one glance. The open layout gave the impression of a private condo, complete with a sleek mini bar and an espresso machine that practically begged to be used. The view from the top floor was breathtaking, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that made way for the vibrant blue skies that allowed the sun to shine at it's greatest capacity, reflecting off the marble from the streets of southern Athens below. And the colors were so dynamic; olive groves, fields of breathtaking wildflowers and citrus trees brought the city to life. Everything reminded you of a landscape painting, it was all so perfect you almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you were really here.

But before your Athens takeover could really commence, you needed a nap. Or three.

Day one passed in a blissful haze of recovery. After a nap that could have doubled as a small coma, you walked by the hotel’s pool, taking in the sparkling water and the soft chatter of other guests lounging under striped umbrellas. Breakfast that morning was a feast fit for royalty, an omelet folded to perfection, fresh fruit that tasted like sunshine, and Moustokouloura, a pastry so rich and sweet it felt like dessert at dawn. The concierge insisted you try Greek coffee, and when the steaming cup arrived at your door, its strong, earthy aroma greeted you like a wake-up call from the gods. You took it to the patio, sipping as you let the city below slowly introduce itself. This is exactly where you're supposed to be. Athens was filled with color, sound, and possibility. This was freedom, pure and simple.

Feeling refreshed on your second morning after some extensive Tik Tok research about things to do in Athens, you walked around the streets of Plaka, by far the most recommended place on the site. And it didn't take long for you to understand why. The neighborhood was a collection of some of the most beautiful brick buildings, an array of restaurants with uniquely placed outdoor seating. The air carried the mingling scents of fresh pita, grilling souvlaki, and blooming jasmine. Laughter and snippets of conversation floated from café tables spilling onto the sidewalks, where diners lingered over plates of mezes and glasses of ouzo. You walked slowly, admiring every square inch of the place like you were going to commit every detail to memory, stumbling upon a store with random trinkets you figured you could take home to your friends and tell them what they were getting themselves into when you all would be in Greece together eventually. Now that you'd experienced this on your own, you couldn't wait to share this experience with them next time. The first person you spotted when you walked in was a tall man, well over six feet, broad shoulders with his back facing the door. He was sexy from the back which meant...no. You shook yourself out of the daydream about what this man could possibly look like because of course men in Greece looked better. That was some sort of law or something based on every movie you'd ever seen. The book shelf at the front of the store caught your eye first, a Greek guide book with common phrases for tourists to know, things that maybe Duolingo wouldn't think of so you grabbed it, scanning the pages for useful information. You tried to focus on the guidebook in your hands, but your nerves betrayed you. An older man’s gaze prickled at your skin, a quiet warning sounding in your mind. Maybe it was nothing, you told yourself. He could just be a curious local. But by the third lap around the shop and you could still feel his eyes in you, the goosebumps on your arms had turned into a full-blown alarm.

The man was closer now, his steps too deliberate to be a coincidence. By the time he spoke, his voice was low and overly familiar, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist. “Hi. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I just... couldn’t help noticing you.”

You swallowed thickly, hoping to keep the conversation short, sweet and with as little personal information exchanged as humanly possible. "Yes. Just visiting," you force out a smile.

"Ah I see, those are pretty," he gestures toward the necklaces in your hand, "pretty necklaces for a pretty lady. Does the pretty lady have a name?"

"Um," you wanted to take a step back, you wanted to walk away, but there was literally no way out of this situation because he was standing in between you and the exit. And for some reason you couldn't think of a fake name off the top of your head to give him. "It's—”

“Oh hey, babe. There you are,” a deep voice interrupted. Your head whipped around, and there he was—broad shoulders, a jawline sharp enough to rival a Greek statue. He had the kind of easy confidence that made your heart skip a beat. Mr. Broad Shoulders slid his arm around you, his touch casual but protective, the warmth of his hand anchoring you in place but doubling your pulse rate for a different reason. “Thought you wanted those charm bracelets, but you disappeared on me.”

“I got distracted.” Your gaze flickered upward, caught on the sun-kissed curl falling across his forehead. He smelled faintly of cinnamon, like he’d been leaning over a freshly lit candle moments before swooping in to save you.

The man takes a look at the two of you and apologizes, walking away without a second glance. You let out a sigh of relief, "thanks for the save, I really didn't know what to do and you just-I really appreciate it."

"No worries, I saw him following you around and thought it was weird. Glad I could help."

You look around to make sure the man from before, spotting him circling the back area with the pasties. "It's...very weird. He didn’t seem like he’d back down that easily."

“I’m Joe, by the way. Since I’m your boyfriend now, that seems like something you should know.”

You laughed, the tension in your chest finally easing. “Yeah, probably. Nice to meet you, Joe. I’m Y/N, your very grateful girlfriend.”

Joe leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper meant just for you. “He’s still watching us. Mind if I sell this a little more?” Without waiting for an answer, he adjusted his grip, his arm tightening around your shoulders like he’d been holding you this way forever. It was seamless, effortless, entirely too convincing. And it left you speechless. All you could do was nod, looking up at him, thinking about how this guy might be the most gorgeous person you've ever seen.

The two of you moved around the store aimlessly, the conversation flowing like you’d known each other for longer than half an hour. Joe explained he’d been in Greece for a few days, taking time to decompress after a grueling work season. “Sometimes, I just need to step away,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that struck a chord.

“I get that,” you replied, sharing your own story of navigating your career and this newfound independence. You admitted, almost sheepishly, that sometimes your job didn’t feel like work because it aligned with your passions so perfectly. Joe nodded, his expression softening. “That’s how I feel,” he said. “I mean, this year it really magnified that for me. But sometimes when things don't go the way you hoped or planned, it makes the sacrifices worth more. Like not having as much free time when I'm working. Now, I have endless free time."

There was something magnetic about him—not just the broad shoulders and effortless charm, but the way he seemed so present. Every touch felt intentional, whether it was his hand on your back as you navigated tight spaces or his offer to buy the travel book you’d been thumbing through. You felt a strange sense of familiarity, like you’d seen him somewhere before but couldn’t quite place it.

After carefully deliberating over the trinkets, you settled on matching necklaces for your friends. On your way to the register, a woman approached, her expression warm and animated.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she began, “but I just had to tell you—you two make the most stunning couple. The way you look at each other, it’s just... beautiful. Are you here on an anniversary trip?”

“One year,” Joe answered without hesitation, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“That’s incredible! Congratulations!” the woman gushed. “Athens is the perfect place to explore as a couple. Do you have plans yet?”

You chimed in, “Not really. We were just going to see where the day takes us.”

The woman nodded enthusiastically and rattled off recommendations, from must-visit landmarks to hidden culinary gems. You took notes on your phone, her suggestions igniting your excitement for the day ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe watched you with a kind of awe. The way your face lit up when you talked about exploring the city tugged at something deep inside him.

He’d spent the last four days locked away in his room, trying to process a season that had been equal parts triumph and heartbreak. It wasn’t just the physical toll of the game—it was the sting of being so close to the pinnacle and falling short. They had gone from 4-8 to 9-8 in what felt like the blink of an eye. The unmet expectations that he had for the team dulled his personal success a bit and he needed to escape after watching other teams prepare for their playoff runs while he cleaned out his locker. He just wanted to recharge and regroup…alone. And here you were, an unexpected spark in the midst of his self-imposed solitude.

When the woman finally bid you goodbye, you hesitated. Should you ask him to join you? The idea of spending the day with a stranger—no matter how kind and gorgeous—felt bold, maybe too bold. But being alone again felt... unbearable. You decided against asking because the thought of rejection was a step above unbearable, if at all possible.

“Well,” you began, your voice faltering slightly, “I guess this is it. I should probably head to my next stop now that I have a to-do list.” You forced a small laugh, keeping your gaze on the floor.

Joe nodded, his smile tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I hope you check off everything on your list.”

He watched you walk away, his chest tightening with each step. He wanted to stop you, to ask you to stay, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was stand there, frozen, as the door swung open.

You paused just before stepping outside. Something tugged at you—a feeling that walking away now would be a mistake.

Turning back, you smiled shyly. “I just realized... how am I supposed to experience Athens to its full potential without my boyfriend? On our anniversary trip, no less?”

Joe’s laugh was warm, easy. “No idea. Luckily, I think I know someone who can help.”

“You’re always so helpful. I feel like I won the dating lottery.”

“Can’t disagree,” he teased, his grin widening.

“Alright,” you said, nudging him playfully, “let’s get out of here before your head gets so big it doesn’t fit through the door.”

He walked out with you, allowing you to lead the way to your first stop.

Fairytale Athens looked like an intense mix between the Garden of Eden and Alice in Wonderland. "This is...wow," Joe quips, the vast array of flowers on the ceiling, the pink bar area and the flamingos. So many flamingos.

You could tell by his tight expression that this place isn't really his scene. "We're not here for two hours of afternoon tea or anything," you reassure him with a smile, "Dimitra said that we should grab drinks before walking around Acropolis and that..." you glance at the menu in front of you, "...strawberry ginger lemonade? That might be calling my name." He shakes his head and orders a mint and cucumber lemonade for himself, your lemonade and two waters as you walk around the princess castle, taking as many pictures as possible before Joe walked back over with all four drinks in hand before heading to the incredibly famous tourist attraction.

The package you paid for allowed you to skip the line and head through a side entrance, your tour guide walking you through the history of the ancient sights along with details about the architectural styles, construction techniques, and the symbolism of the monuments. The faint echo of the voices highlighted the rich history of the place you were standing in, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool lemonade in your hand. It seemed like Joe was hanging onto every word as he helped you up some steep ancient steps, his eyes lighting up as the guide drove you over to the museum, going into depth about the Gods.

"This exhibit is Gods, Worship and Magic, one of the most popular sites this year. You guys can walk around and read about the different deities featured." Artemis' exhibit, caught your eye first.

Glancing down at the steel plaque, "goddess of the hunt, devoted to nature. Were you ever a Percy Jackson fan growing up?"

"I was more of a SpongeBob guy. And Star Wars. Definitely had a dinosaur phase that lasted a lot longer than I care to share," he looks up, wondering why in the hell he just told you that. "Do—do you have any humiliating stories you'd like to share with the class?"

He nudged you as you walked alongside him, his hand so dangerously close to yours. You had the biggest urge to reach out and touch him. So you did. Reaching out maybe an inch, you interlocked your pinky with his, making his heart take a leap in his chest, swinging your hands happily towards the Eros exhibit. "The god of—”

"Love and desire," he finishes for you. Just because he wasn’t a Percy Jackson fanatic, doesn’t mean he didn’t pay close attention to the Greek mythology unit in school.

"Look at the hands," you said softly, leaning in closer. "It's like they're...perfectly fit for each other, you know?"

Joe's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. He was standing so close now, the faint scent of mint and cucumber from his lemonade mingling with the earthy air of the exhibit. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and low, "I know what you mean."

Your pinkies were still hooked, but now the little space between you felt electrified. You didn't dare turn to meet his eyes, afraid of what you might see—or what he might see in yours.

"I do have an embarrassing thing to share with the class," you turn to face him and admire the excited look on his face, like what you're about to say is the most important thing in the world. "When I was little I was obsessed with Mama Mia." He gives you a puzzled look. "It's a musical that they turned into a movie. Anyway...it's about a girl that's getting married in a small town in Greece and the views just..." you pause, smiling at the memory, "...changed my life. I've always wanted that magical movie moment feeling. The music, the views, the…”

"Romance?" he finishes softly, a knowing look in his eyes.

You exhale, your cheeks warming as you nod. "Yeah...the romance. It was nice too." You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. "Doesn’t really compare to the real thing, though," you add, barely above a whisper.

The weight of the moment lingers between you. His gaze searches yours, his expression softening like he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words. Your heart stumbles, and suddenly you feel too seen. You clear your throat, breaking the spell. "I'm, uh, getting kind of hungry. We should grab lunch and head to the next spot."

Joe blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, like he wasn't ready for the shift. "Yeah, sure," he says, his voice gentler now. He watches you for a second longer than you'd expect, then nods. As you walk back to meet the tour guide, Joe finds himself wondering how you’ve managed to unravel him so quickly, leaving him wondering why he already feels so invested in figuring you out.

When you get into the Uber it's like a weight has been lifted off your chest. The museum, which was supposed to be a calm and educational experience was too stuffy and intimate by the end of the visit. In the car, you could have your own space, sitting as close to the door as you could to gather yourself and your thoughts. The driver was nice enough, he had chargers in the car and gave you water bottles, noting that the heat would steadily increase throughout the day. You noticed him stealing glances at Joe in the rearview mirror, his hands tightening on the wheel like he was holding back words. The silence stretched until finally—“I’m sorry, man. I just gotta say…” he finally utters out, "I've been a Bengals fan since I was 8. And I woke up at ungodly hours to watch you play every week. Huge, huge fan."

You laughed at yourself in your seat, the pieces of the puzzle being put together. All of your focus had been on the day, spending every waking minute together and you didn't even fully process why he looked so familiar because the odds of that just sounded too insane to be real. Joe managed a polite smile, his usual ease replaced with a flicker of discomfort. You glanced at him, watching his jaw tighten just slightly as he signed the hat, the faintest blush creeping up his neck. Did he worry you’d see him differently now?

The car stopped near a bustling square lined with food trucks and small cafes. The aroma of grilled meat and spices wafted through the air as you wandered, your eyes drawn to colorful menus. It didn’t take long for the debate to begin.

"Joseph, the mini burgers are definitely better than the souvlaki cones. Be serious."

"No they aren't!" He argues, "you just need to try another one, here."

The souvlaki cone was tender and smoky, the tzatziki tangy and cool against the heat of the pork. But the burger—crispy bacon, the creamy richness of the mayo—felt indulgent, almost sinful. You savored every bite, laughing at Joe’s mock-offended gasp when you declared it the winner. "I hear you and I respect your wrong opinion. But the burger is just better I'm sorry. Do you want another bite?"

He shakes his head slowly, admiring you while you did such a mundane task, silently cursing himself at the fact that he chartered a plane to leave early the next morning. The two of you needed more time together. One day just wasn't going to be enough and the more time he spent with you the more apparent that fact became.

And then you took him on a boat.

It rocked gently, but Joe’s hands gripped the edge of the seat like the waves were threatening to tip them over. His gaze darted toward the horizon, avoiding the churning water below. “You’re really not a boat guy, huh?” you teased, your voice softening when his fingers tightened further. "I'm so sorry I had no idea. But Joe? We're literally in Greece, it's like, treason not to get on a boat here."

"Exactly, so I'm abiding by the law. Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Your hand found his thigh in a quiet attempt to reassure him, and you felt the tension slowly drain from his muscles. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but the way his leg leaned ever so slightly into your touch sent a warmth through you that lingered long after. Aegina’s coastline unfolded before you, the white-washed buildings glowing under the sun, expansive trees swaying in the breeze. Joe stepped out first, offering his hand. His grip was firm, steadying you until your feet found the solid ground. You smiled up at him, the unspoken connection between you stronger than ever.

Just as Dimitra had described to you before, the pottery studio was tucked in a quiet corner of the island. Inside, the walls were lined with vibrant pottery, each bowl and vase a testament to countless hands shaping their stories, their glazes gleaming softly in the sunlight as you and Joe grabbed seats toward the back of the room. The instructor's notes were simple, to mold an item of your choice to keep at the end of the session, giving everyone creative freedom to produce a piece of their heart's desire. The clay felt cool to the touch, it's sticky and wet texture balanced wonderfully with the earthy smell that made your experience all the more relaxing and fun. Joe on the other hand, was creating a bowl with a lopsided shape, "it's supposed to look like this," he said firmly, biting back a laugh as you tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.

"Abstract art is still art. I just thought maybe...a quarterback would be better with his hands," you teased.

"Oh yeah? Let's see your work, Picasso." He took a break from his work station to scoot closer to yours, "shit, that actually looks pretty good."

You clean your hands off and move over to his station when he sets his chair back down. "I worked at my uncle's ceramic shop when I was little. It was his passion project so we all had to pitch in as a family and take turns," you helped guide his hand along the bowl, allowing him to smooth over the ridges efficiently evening out some of the misshapen parts. "I'm not saying I’m an expert by any means but I can get you to a point where your bowl can sit up by itself." Your fingers brushed his as you guided his hand, the soft pressure of your touch steadying his movements. Together, the ridges of the bowl began to smooth, though neither of you seemed in a hurry to let go. By the end of the session both bowls were done to the best of your ability, sort of bowl shaped, sort of not and full of personality.

"You’re good at this," Joe says, watching as continued to shape your bowl.

"Good at pottery?" you ask, laughing.

"Good at making things feel...easier," he replies softly. The pottery, he thought to himself, sort of mirrored your time together-unpolished, imperfect, but full of potential and that was both exciting and daunting. After your hands were clean, he grabbed your phone and snapped a picture of the two of you showing off your bowls.

"I was scared when you mentioned doing this at first, but I actually really enjoyed that. This," he gestures to his masterpiece, "is going up somewhere, maybe next to the trophy case at my parent's house. Funny enough, they also live in Athens. Ohio, not Greece," he clarifies.

"You might've missed your true calling," you tell him with a laugh, "here you are wasting your talents on football when the art community needs you."

"Yeah...sure," he laughs, holding onto the bags with your now fully dry bowls in them. "Unfortunately, I don't think I'm ready to quit my day job. Quite frankly, I don't think the art world is ready for me yet. Although working that clay could have been really good wrist rehab."

There it was, that can of worms you'd been trying to navigate. You didn't want to push him to talk about the season or his job if he didn't want to. And now the door was open for you to ask. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to but...was it scary? You know, putting your entire life, all of your free time, your dedication to this one thing that you're obviously really good at. Putting in all that work and then one day it's all just...taken away from you?"

He stops walking for a bit and your breath hitches in your throat, fearing that you've pushed him too far. At the end of the day you were still a stranger to him and maybe that was too personal?

You could tell the question was kind of eating at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

"No it's fine. I just…yeah. I was terrified for a little bit. No one had been through this before—not at my position, not at this level. I had no blueprint, no one to turn to for advice. It felt like— walking on a tightrope in the dark, hoping I wouldn’t fall.

“The scariest part wasn’t the pain or the rehab," Joe admits. "It was not knowing if I’d still be...me when it was all over."

You tilt your head, searching his face. "You mean, the quarterback?"

He hesitates, then shakes his head. "No. Just...me. Without football, I really didn’t know who that was, how I was going to navigate fame and my private life and everything in between that comes with being me. Whatever that means. And I had an uncomfortably long amount of time to figure it out. Now that the wrist and my health is not an issue anymore and with everything that happened during the season I just felt drained afterwards. Exhausted honestly. And today's been exactly what I needed.”

"Today's been a breath a fresh air for me too. Obviously I didn't have 500 pounds of man laying on top of me but I get it on a smaller scale. Feeling like work is drowning you and nothing you do is good enough so you need to escape. This trip isn’t just a celebration," you confess. "It’s a reminder that I’m more than my deadlines and titles. My boss once called me at 11 p.m. on a Sunday, and I didn’t even blink before picking up. I guess I forgot what it felt like to just...be. I really needed a—”

"Reset," the two of you say at the same time, a comfortable silence washing over you as you continue to walk. "That’s kind of why I came here," you confess. "Not to figure out who I am, but...to remind myself I’m more than my job. More than what other people expect of me."

"Feels like everyone’s always watching, doesn’t it?" Joe says, his voice quieter. "Waiting for you to fail or...prove them right."

"Yeah. But I think we deserve more than that."

Joe sighs, nodding quietly, "We do," Joe says with a small smile. "And one day, when we get it, we’ll look back on this trip as the start of something different." He didn’t say everything he was thinking—some things needed more time to come to the surface.

"Sounds perfect, lead the way."

After you shared the world's greatest chicken gyro, you walked around Aegina a little more, realizing that you had no time to change before dinner and you'd been wearing the same clothes all day long. You walked into a small store, grabbing things off the shelf to try on. Joe was easy, settling for gray cargo pants and a blue striped knit top. Rummaging through clothes and anything that wasn't instant online shopping had become a bit of a chore and you were on a time crunch which made you feel even more rushed. You grabbed three or four dresses and had Joe sit outside the fitting room while you tried the stuff on, only stepping out to show him your favorite.

"What do you think about this?”

The baby blue square neck A-line dress hugged your body like it was created just for you to wear, it's length accentuating your curves in a way that almost had him physically picking his jaw up off the floor. He didn't think you could look any better before but you'd just shattered his expectations. "You look absolutely amazing," he says sincerely, his mouth feeling dry.

You glance at him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Compliments weren’t new, but the way he said it—like it was the only thing in the world that mattered—left you speechless. You managed a soft laugh, pretending to study your reflection. "Thanks." After heading back to the fitting room to change, you grabbed all of your items and headed to the front to pay with Joe standing behind you in line. The cashier rung up your items and was getting ready to bag it when Joe added his clothes to the mix.

"Joe what are you doing? You're not paying for my clothes."

He handed over his card without hesitation, ignoring your protests. "I’ve got this," he said, his voice casual but his eyes portraying something deeper, like this was the most natural thing in the world to him. "Boyfriends are supposed to buy things. I think it’s in the constitution.”

"It's definitely not. And seriously, you don't have to do this."

"I got it, don't worry babe." The word slipped out so effortlessly that for a second, you wondered if you’d misheard him. But the way his eyes flicked to yours, briefly widening, told you everything. He realized it too—and yet, he didn’t take it back.You thanked him the entire walk back to the boat, his soft laugh sending warm and fuzzy feelings in your chest.

You were starting to acknowledge the growing warmth between you two, the way Joe’s presence seemed to make every moment feel right. The idea of saying goodbye felt heavier than it should after just one day, but somehow, it seemed inevitable. The next spot was inside a resort, they allowed you to change your clothes and head upstairs to the rooftop bar to watch the sunset. The drinks and the view had nothing on you, he quickly realized, finding himself unable to tear his eyes away. Everything just made sense today, the museum walk, the easy conversation, the boat ride. He didn't want to leave before but now the mere thought of packing his suitcase tonight made him upset.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Your words snap him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, just how much I'm going to miss it here. The peace, the incredible sunset..."

You. The word hung in the air for a while before he pushed it down and tried to move on.

"We should head over to there and get closer to the view, you can literally see the entire city from glass railing." You stood up first and grabbed his hand, practically dragging him over there. Luckily there wasn't anyone else in the area. "This is the most insane scenery. I don't get how anyone could get tired of seeing this everyday, I'd never be inside. I feel like we’ve been the physical representation of carpe diem."

He looks at you confused, "what does that even mean?"

"Carpe diem? It’s Latin for 'seize the day.' Basically saying not to focus too much on the future and live in the present to the fullest capacity.”

"I like that," he chuckles.

Long after the sun went down and most of your dishes were cleared from the table, the lingering sweetness of caramel on your lips was all you could think about, a fleeting pleasure that only made the impending goodbye sting even more.

"Joe I have to tell you something," he looks at you as you head over to stand in one of the private lounge areas, giving you his undivided attention. "I saw you this morning in the store. Your back was facing me but I don't know, you caught my eye. And I told myself I wouldn't say anything, I wouldn't go up to you and make small talk because I'm here on a solo vacation to be one with myself and-now I'm really glad that I know you."

A smile forms on the corner of his mouth, "I've been telling myself all day that this isn't real. That I could just let my guard down because in Greece, I don't have to be Joe Burrow. I can just be...Joe. You let me be exactly who I am, nothing more, nothing less. And honestly? This might've been the single greatest day of my life. I've had good ones, really good ones. But today is up there for sure." You hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten until you could feel his arm against yours, his breath soft and warm on your cheek. His eyes dropped to your lips again, this time lingering a moment longer, as if the air between you had thickened. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his breath just a whisper away, as his hand hovered near your cheek. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a spark through you, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you in.

You couldn't allow yourself to go there. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not now, not like this—but the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, made it hard to think clearly. As much as you wanted this, to feel him close, to taste the sweetness of that kiss, the weight of knowing how fleeting it all was crushed down on you. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything you were afraid to want, a piece of yourself that you couldn’t let slip away so easily. If you already felt this strongly about him after a day, how were you going to make it through the rest of the vacation without him knowing how his lips tasted and how his strong hands pulled you in close, holding onto you like he'd rather lose everything than let you go. There was no way in the world you'd recover.

"We can't," you whisper, watching him drop his hand that had just been lightly caressing your cheek. "You're gonna leave tomorrow and I'm gonna be thinking about this kiss for a long time. And I can't," your voice trembles. "I don't want you to go, so I can't kiss you. I'm sorry."

"No don't—don't apologize. I get it." He still hadn't taken a step back, biting his lip to keep his emotions in check. "I can walk you back to your hotel? I haven't packed yet and I need to.”

"Sure, yeah that's fine."

The 15 minute walk felt like three seconds. You didn't want him to go. He no longer wanted to leave. "Y/N I—”

You wrapped him up in a bone crushing hug, silently begging him to stay, just for a few more days. His grip on you was just as strong, his heartbeat thumping rapidly against your body. There weren't enough words in the English, or Greek dictionary to describe how much you were going to miss him. To miss this day. "Bye Joe." That was it. That was all you could manage. The moment you let go of him felt like a piece of your heart stayed in his arms. There was no way to explain the ache in your chest as you watched him turn away, the pull to stay stronger than any rational thought.

Going to sleep that night sounded impossible. The day had started out so innocent and special and the adventure and emotional rollercoaster you'd been on during the day made it feel like you'd experienced a series of days all wrapped into one. You set your bags down on the ground when you got to your room, too tired to change out of your clothes and falling asleep on top of the covers as soon as you laid down.

The next morning you checked the time on your phone, it was 8am. Joe had told you yesterday he was leaving at 10. That meek little goodbye wasn't going to cut it. You didn't even have his number. After your teeth were brushed and your clothes were changed, you rushed out of your hotel and got in an Uber, on your way to Joe's resort. The 46 minute ride allowed you to come up with everything you wanted to say, how this was only meant to be for a day but maybe it could be more? Maybe you could come see him in Cincinnati or he could come to Berkeley or someway somehow you could figure out a way to make it work.

You thanked your driver, opting to speed walk into the lobby. The person at the front desk couldn't give you access to the room without a reason, even when you gave them the name Joe used for his reservation. Pulling out your phone, you showed her the picture of you and Joe that he took at the pottery place and she finally believed you.

"I'm sorry ma'am, he actually left this morning a bit earlier than planned. He checked out at 7am to get on the plane."

Your chest tightened as the words settled in—he was gone. Just like that, in the span of a few hours, everything had shifted. The chance to say what was left unsaid, the connection you had just begun to explore, all slipped away before you could even hold onto it.

It felt like a dark cloud loomed over you throughout the rest of the day. The sun, once so warm on your skin, now felt distant and cold. The flowers that had seemed so alive that morning now appeared dull, their colors muted, as though even nature understood the weight on your heart. While you ate lunch, you tried to people watch, although you quickly discovered that there were only couples surrounding you, sharing meals and laughing at each other's jokes which made you miss him even more. The only real bright spot of the day was your flower garden excursion, taking pictures of the newly bloomed bulbs and taking in their fresh scent. As the hours passed, you allowed yourself to breathe a little deeper, letting the moments of regret slip away as you focused on the simple joys of your surroundings. The beauty of the flowers, the calm of the gardens, it all reminded you that there was still peace to be found in this unexpected chapter of your life.

You were just beginning to let go of the weight on your chest, convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, this was how things were meant to be. But as you laid your phone down beside you, the familiar ping of a message broke the stillness.

It was an DM request on Instagram. The message had two simple words.

Carpe diem.

For a second, your heart skipped, and you couldn’t help but smile. That phrase, so simple and yet so loaded with meaning, sent a wave of warmth through you. It was him. In a way, he had left his mark on you after all, even if he wasn’t here to say the words aloud. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. And though you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or if this connection would ever evolve beyond this brief encounter, in that moment, with his words glowing on your screen, you allowed yourself one final thought: Maybe this was only the beginning.

[1-victoria-1]

Alastor x Child!Doe! Reader part 2

A/n: hello dear readers! This is part two of the Alastor x child!doe!reader fic and i hope you will like it!

Alastor would have never thought that he would enjoy the company of a child much less a little child, as he always thought children were annoying creatures but you, you were different, you were his little sunshine, his little doe daughter who loved him like a father.

Alastor was a morning person and as a morning person the first thing he does is go downstairs of the hotel and then in the kitchen to make himself his hellish bitter coffee, of course he couldn't just let his darling daughter aline in his room, he took her with him, carrying the still sleeping doe in his arms and chuckling when she stirs awake and just babbles like always, looks like she wasn't really a morning person but he can endure that!

While making himself coffee he would also make you your cacao or hot chocolate, he never liked sweet things but his now adopted daughter is the only sweet thing he will ever accept in his eternal life.

He will make you some quick breakfast like an omelet or scrambled eggs with bacon and then he will take you with him to the balcony of the hotel with chairs and a table and snap his fingers so the food and drinks would arrive, of course he also took a blanket with him so you wouldn't get sick as he has heard that children in hell tend to get ill quicker then on earth.

And today was also special, well at least for your big sister Charlie! Her dad was coming, and well the residents at the hotel have already explained to you many times that charlie was a princess, the princess of hell to be specific and her dad is the devil, Lucifer, but well you were a child after all and didn't really understand those things with devil and stuff but you understood that you had to behave well when he will be here, because his Charlie's family! But you did need to think of what to call him, just Lucifer was boring to you, you have names for everyone! Like big sister Charlie and big sister Vaggie, big brother Angel, Uncle Husk, big sister Nifty and Uncle Pentious, even egg bois had names, you called them your cousins! And alastor was your dear and unreplaceable papa! But you had time to think on what to call Lucifer so it's okay.

After breakfast Alastor would tell you to wash up which you did and then he would change you, he changed you in a cute red blouse with ruffles and some black details like butterflies and stuff and a cute black skirt with ruffles as well, black Tights and cute red flats with straps , and he gave you the mini version of his microphone cane that rosie made for you, now you looked like a full little lady to go! Alastor whipped away an invisible tear as you beamed happily because you looked like your papa at some point, gosh you were adorable!

When you both went down, well more like Alastor was the one carrying you as you were babbling away innocently.

When you both were in the lobby, everything was done for the king's arrival and Alastor still held you like his little treasure with his usual smile, and charlie being nervous about her fathers arrival was noticeable so you wiggled out of your papa's grip and ran to her and tugged on her red pants and and then patted her to calm her down, you really were a pure soul, and a motivation for Charlie to keep going with her dream of redemption for sinners.

After a moment the king finally arrived and everything went like in the show until Alastor insulted Lucifer and Charlie went in between them to get them away from one another and you ran to your papa and patted his leg and looked up at him with a pouty face and said "no bad words! Bad papa!", Alastor just chuckled and forgot about the short king and pucked his darling up and resured you that it was okay for him to use 'bad words' but not for you because you were a little lady but you were okay with that and snuggled to your papa.

Lucifer only then noticed you, a small child, in hell, and he could feel your pure and innocent soul, which made him question why you were here.

He asked Charlie and when she told him what you told them at your arrival and how Angel explained to them that you died from drug overdose from your father, which made Lucifer furious and he wanted to literally jump on Alastor and skin him alive, he thought that alastor was the one that killed you because you were calling him papa.

Charlie noticed how her father was, well, growing his horns and his ever going red, she quickly resured him that Alastor wasn't your biological father but your adoptive one.

You had called Charlie big Sister many times that day which made Lucifer think ' I'ma adopt this cute' because you reminded him of smaller Charlie with your innocence but he couldn't really adopt you because Alastor was always by you and glaring at lucifer as if he could hear his thoughts.

Lucifer was also furious at heaven for being foolish and sending an innocent soul down to hell for something they couldn't do and didn't even understand, like you literally didn't even now understand where you were, like that's messed up, even from heaven.

_________________________________________

After this exhausting day, how Alastor would like to call it after protecting his daughter from a certain king of hell who wanted to steal his only light in this dark and unholy afterlife.

He gave you your usual juice box and changed your clothes to pj clothes and read you an bedtime story as you fell asleep while hugging a deer plushie you got from Alastor.

Alastor when he finished the story, quietly left the room and went to his raio tower, still dressed in his usual outfit and looked at the sinner who had insulted you and tried to grab you away from him the other day on your way with alastor to cannibal town to visit Rosie.

Clearly after those 7 years of his absence, those filthy sinners have forgotten to not mess with the radio demon.

Let's just say this was one of his longest broadcasts of a screaming sinner in a long time, and he felt satisfied when he tortured the sinner, of course he had to stop when he heard a small knock on his radio tower door as he knew it was you, he teleported the filthy sinner to his house away from the pentagram city and opened the door to his radio tower and saw your sleepy form while hugging the deer plushie.

He didn't ask you why you were awake as he knew you either had a nightmare of your past or just felt scared without your papa, and with that the day ends with you and your papa sleeping on the couch in his radio tower with soft jazz playing in the background and your soft snoors.

_________________________________________

A/n: thats it for part two! I hope you enjoyed it dear readers, i will write part three tomorrow and also publish it!

And i have had a few more ideas for fanfics or mini series so stay tuned and have a great day or night!

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 13: Make A Wish

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 7307 words. (long boi)

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

You were running out of time, less than two weeks to accomplish the task Sukuna had given you and you still doubted if you could do it. You sat up in bed as you watched the sunlight stream through the window, heralding the arrival of a new day, jumped out of bed to get to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and there it was. A small glass jar containing the favor you had asked Kenjaku for on the day of the harvest. You carefully examined the whitish mushrooms with brown caps. 

Amanita phalloides, the most deadly mushroom for humans. From what you had read in one of the giant encyclopedias in the library, it has caused the death of numerous people by being very similar to some mushrooms that are edible. The toxins in this mushroom act on the liver and kidneys, resulting in liver failure. You could serve it to your victim in a mushroom omelet and the poisonous mushroom would take care of the rest. All you had to do was the hardest part, pick a victim. 

It had to be a human, so Kenjaku and the rest of the curses didn't enter into the equation. Not being strong enough, it couldn't be someone with a cursed technique. That's how you ruled out Uraume and Yorozu. Whichever way you looked at it, your target had to be a servant. You couldn't kill Mrs. Inoue, you saw her as if she was your tender grandmother who worries that you eat well so that you grow up a lot. You could never betray her friendship for the sake of the king. 

“What do I do?” you asked yourself anxiously, putting the jar back in its place. 

You entered the dining room promptly as you did every morning for breakfast. You wished the servants good morning along with a smile. Now, it was harder for you to choose who to kill, as they had all been so kind to you over the past few weeks. They greeted you, chatted with you about their lives outside the castle, and looked out for you. The vast majority of servants saw you as just another fellow servant who was there because of a terrible fate, rather than a figure to be feared. You felt like a hypocrite greeting them when inside you knew the terrible fate you had planned for an unfortunate man. As soon as they knew you killed one of them, you could not restore their trust in you. You approached your designated place and were surprised to see that Mrs. Inoue was the one in charge of your chair. 

“Happy birthday, Miss,” she congratulated you with a smile.

“Oh, you remembered! Thank you!” You said before hugging her gently. 

You had spent so much time worrying about studying, taking care of your sister and choosing who you were going to kill that you had forgotten your own birthday. The days passed quickly between your responsibilities. Wake up, study, train, sleep, repeat. A vicious cycle filled with anxiety, insecurity and effort. Life at the castle really was complicated, but there were good parts. It was nice to know that someone cared enough to remember this special date.

Sukuna arched his brow at how tightly you hugged the lady. He didn't understand why they were making a fuss about the anniversary of your arrival in this horrible world. He doesn't remember how he came to this world. His earliest recollection was opening his eyes and being thirsty for human blood. From the moment he stepped onto this existential plane, he knew he had a greater purpose than being a mere man-eating curse. Birthdays don't matter when greatness is waiting. 

“Today is your birthday?” Sukuna asked you curiously as soon as you sat down at the table. You nodded excitedly. “Why didn't you tell me? If your birthday was so important, why didn't you let him know?”

“You never asked,” you replied. “Touche” he thought before taking his glass of wine. “Yorozu hasn't shown up yet?” You asked him while examining the room.

For the past month, Yorozu has not left his master's side even for a moment. She accompanied him when he did paperwork in his office, they trained together until sunset and followed him everywhere like a puppy obedient to its mother. So much so that the servants began to call her: “the dirt on the king's fingernail” or, as her friends call her, “the dirt”. It was rare that she was not present as soon as you entered the room. 

Sukuna was about to answer when a shrill voice started singing happy birthday. Yorozu kicked open the kitchen door to reveal the surprise she had planned for you. Your sister was singing at the top of her lungs, while Uraume held a small strawberry and cream cake with some lit candles. They didn't seem too happy about being part of the plan. 

“Happy birthday, dear sister!” She sang off-key. 

This brought back memories. Yorozu did the same thing every year. She would bake you a cake or something sweet from whatever was in the cabin cupboards, light a couple of candles and parade around the room you shared at 5 a.m. while crowing like a rooster. Your mother and sisters would yell at her to shut up while throwing pillows at her, but she never stopped crowing. It was annoying, but something about it seemed tender. Yorozu always wanted to make sure she was the first to wish you a happy birthday. 

“Did you bake it?” You asked Uraume when they placed the cake in front of you. 

“Only because your sister asked me to,” Uraume answered reluctantly. 

The strawberry and cream cake was a masterpiece of pastry making. Each fluffy layer of sponge cake bathed in a soft syrup that gave off a sweet and delicate aroma. The freckled fruits, fresh and juicy, rested elegantly on top of the cream. Its vibrant red color stood out against the white background and the silver platter in which it was served. At the top, perched the largest strawberry you had ever seen in your life. It made your mouth water just looking at it. Your sister knew you so well.

“Thank you, Uraume,” you said as you admired the delicious dessert in front of you. 

“Make a wish,” Yorozu excitedly proposed as she sat down next to you.

What did you really wish for? Just like your birthday, you had forgotten what you really wanted. You wished for your family to be well, not to be killed and to eat good food, but those are not really wishes, they are priorities. What was it that your heart really longed for? You had been at the mercy of other people for so long that you began to forget who you were. Your empty eyes gazed at the small flames dancing on the white candles, slowly melting around the edge as you experienced an existential crisis. Time was running out. What were you doing?

“Sis?” Yorozu called you worried. 

You blinked and focused back on reality again. The king to your left, your sister to your right and all the servants around you were looking at you worriedly. You coughed a couple of times to regain your posture and blew out the candles quickly. Everyone applauded you while you forced a smile as if nothing had happened. 

“What did you ask for, sis?” Yorozu asked you while a servant cut the cake to serve it to those at the table. 

“If I say so, it will not come true,” you excused yourself so as not to reveal that you had not ordered anything. 

The servant handed you a slice of cake with the biggest strawberry of the cake, you smiled cheek to cheek at the kind gesture. You were about to take it with your fork, but someone beat you to it. Yorozu snatched the strawberry with her hands and put it in her mouth without a care in the world. She chewed happily while looking at you with a mischievous smile. Despite being in the body of an adult, she still acted like a child. The servant, annoyed at the scene, placed two strawberries on top of your slice. 

Sukuna knew something was happening to you. He didn't know exactly what, but he recognized that expression anywhere. Nervous smile, watchful eyes and anxious hands. The signs couldn't have been clearer. You were uncomfortable. It was the expression all servants made when they saw him up close. He drank his glass of wine while you ate your cake without saying a word, while Yorozu chattered incessantly. It was odd that you were acting like that.

You stared intently at the blackboard with the double-digit numbers and letters to be solved. “Since when did math have letters?” you mentally grumbled as you paced back and forth across the library without taking your eyes off the wooden rectangle. After that archery lesson, King Sukuna ordered Kenjaku to continue the research he had been asking him to do for months. In the last few weeks, your teacher would leave you the lessons written on long scrolls or on the blackboard to focus on his new task from the darkness of his room. Sometimes you missed the company of a teacher, but the peace of solitude was fine too. The heavy door opened slowly, revealing Mrs. Inoue's head, asking if you were too busy. A smile crept onto your face as soon as you saw the colorful desserts on the golden tray. 

“Mrs. Inoue, what a miracle!” You greeted her by taking the tray from her hands so she could take a break. 

“I had to visit you on your special day. I had to visit you on your special day,” she answered as you handed her a chair to sit on. “The desserts and the card are from everyone.” 

The gold tray glistened in the dim light coming from the window. The small desserts were displayed with a precision that bordered on the artistic, denoting the creativity of the servants who were in charge of the kitchen. Small fruit tarts, a cup of chocolate mousse and tiny macaroons glistened with color in the dim light coming from the window. 

The gold tray glistened in the dim light coming from the window. The small desserts were displayed with a precision that bordered on the artistic, denoting the creativity of the servants who were in charge of the kitchen. Small fruit tarts, a cup of chocolate mousse and tiny macaroons glowed with color.

“How is everyone?” You asked worriedly as she checked the small card that was signed by all 53 servants.

“Well, what can I tell you? These last months of winter are the coldest in the dungeon. Do you remember the time when we had to sleep together to avoid hypothermia?”

The dungeon was the main cause of illness from the low temperatures that came with the season, muscle atrophy from the uncomfortable beds and broken bones from the old men falling out of the giant bunks. You were saddened to know that the situation hadn't changed at all since you stopped being a maid. You felt guilty that you were able to sleep in a comfortable bed in a heated room when several old people were sleeping in the worst possible place. The only thing that pitied your remorse was that they were safe from the clutches of curses during the dangerous night. 

“How many have fallen ill?” You asked as you looked back at the blackboard. 

You knew exactly why you were asking.  Partly it was because you did care about the servants, but you also wanted Mrs. Inoue to give you a victim to kill soon. 

“3. Less than last year,” Mrs. Inoue replied optimistically. 

You have influenced her way of thinking for months now. Even though they lived in constant fear of dying, it was better to make the most of the days alive because it was the only thing they could do. 

“Who is the worst off?” you asked. 

You prayed inwardly that he wouldn't ask you why you were asking that. Just as you were about to answer, the door slammed open again. Mrs. Inoue stood up in panic thinking it was the king or Uraume, but it was only Yorozu with a wide smile as always. 

“You're studying on your birthday!” She scolded you, offended by the sight. “Let's go practice archery like last time!” She proposed while running towards you furiously.

“I can't. I must solve these problems,” you answered. 

“Then solve them," Yorozu answered with a certain obviousness as if it hadn't occurred to you before. 

“It's not that easy,” you sighed. 

Yorozu grumbled when you looked back at the board. It wasn't fair that you were doing something so boring on your special day. You should be having fun with it. You took one of the mini fruit tarts from the tray and ate it in one bite. Quickly, he noticed Mrs. Inoue's presence. 

“Long time no see! How are you doing? Getting older every day, aren't ya?” Yorozu joked. 

“Yorozu!” You scolded her while writing something on the blackboard. “Be nice to the lady.”

“It seems they didn't teach you any manners at home, child,” the lady grumbled in annoyance. 

“What did she say?” Yorozu asked, offended. she reached over and pulled her ashen hair. “Say it again, old woman,” she challenged her. 

You looked back as you heard the lady's moan of pain. You couldn't believe what Yorozu was doing. You knew she was a troublemaker, but you never thought she would get that angry with a lady three times her age. Yorozu's hand was turning red from the pressure she was exerting, but the lady was not going to bend easily. After all, she suffered worse humiliations from the king and Uraume. You clenched your fist and lunged at your sister to punch her in the face to get her to let go, but she blocked your blow with her arm covered in glowing green armor. Your fist hit so hard that a certain part of the armor shattered, but it still hurt you more than it hurt her. 

“Don't you think my new armor made of beetle skin is cool? Although it looks like I need to perfect it,” Yorozu said excitedly before releasing the lady. 

“Apologize. Now,” you challenged her while holding your injured hand. 

“Are you really defending the old lady?” Your sister asked you in surprise. 

You only answered her with a knockout look. It was one of the few times she saw you upset. Seeing you as a second mother after the biological one, she knew she shouldn't bother you anymore if you were already angry. She undid her armor to return her posture to the lady. 

“Well, well...” She reluctantly surrendered. “I'm sorry she's so old.” 

“Yorozu!” 

“I was only joking. I'm sorry.” Finally, she apologized to your friend. 

“Aren't you supposed to be training?” You asked annoyed.

“Are you kicking me out?” Yorozu returned the question offended. 

“Yes,” you answered seriously. 

“Oh how boring…” She huffed in annoyance before walking quickly out of the room while complaining to herself. 

As soon as she was out of your sight, you collapsed into the chair next to Mrs. Inoue. The fist you hit her with stung against your other hand wrapped around her. You grabbed a macaron to eat it to calm the adrenaline rushing through your body. You couldn't believe what had just happened. It wasn't the first time you had hit your sister, but this time it felt personal. 

“What am I going to do with this girl?” You asked Mrs. Inoue rhetorically as you grabbed your forehead. 

“Thank you for defending me, but the truth is I didn't want to tell you this because she is your family, but... May I get this off my chest?” You looked at her curiously, wondering what she had kept so much to herself. “Your sister is a real bitch. She's rude, useless and stupid. She's a real pain in the ass. A fucking bitchy little bitch that nobody wants. I hope she eats a hill so she won't hear her bark. She thinks she's a good dick just because she has the king's permission...”

You only listened to her complain about how scandalous her snoring was, how rude she was to the servants and how much she talked about King Sukuna as if he were God himself. You knew Yorozu's behavior was bad, but it seemed to have gotten worse after the discovery of her powers and would only get worse as time went on. She was a barking bitch, but at some point she would bite back. 

“And you know what angers me the most?! How dare she take your strawberries?!” The lady complained. 

“She always does. I have always shared with him what is mine,” you tried to justify her on the only thing you could defend her on. 

“But that doesn't make it right,” she argued back. 

“It's my fault she's like that.” It was also your mother's fault that she was like that, but you never corrected her.

“Be that as it may. Let me give you some advice.” The lady interrupted you to stop excusing your sister's shitty attitude as she got up from her seat to face you, making sure you paid attention to her. “I may not know much about royalty, but what I do know is that if you're going to make a queen, you should learn to stand up for what's yours.” Leaving you with the word in your mouth, she wished you a happy birthday and walked out of your sight. 

You took another macaron to relax your posture on the chair and look at the ceiling of the library. You ate it slowly while admiring the splendid painting depicting a reddish sky and grayish summer clouds. You swallowed the viscous mixture of jelly and wafer before dropping your hands to your sides. “Fucking hell, Yorozu,” you thought. 

Sukuna was up to his neck in paperwork, so much so that he had to send Yorozu to practice on his own for the day. Document after document. Report after report. Sukuna loved being a king, but this was the part he hated the most. After finishing reading a mining production report, he put it away in the file cabinet and leaned back on the leather chair. He held his forehead to rest his eyes. He was sick of reading. A couple of knocks on the door woke him from his brief pause. He ordered with an annoyed grunt to the person behind the door revealed itself. Kenjaku bowed and approached the desk. 

“You'd better have moved on with your investigation,” Sukuna threatened him. “He's in a bad mood today,” the minor curse thought.

"Of course. It's the only thing I've done in the last two weeks,” Kenjaku said wryly behind a smile. “I have good news.”

“And what are you waiting to tell them?” The king grumbled.

“Since you are the reincarnation of a sorcerer, you have almost human genetics.” 

“Almost?” Sukuna arched his eyebrow.

“Humans don't have four arms and two penises, my king.” Kenjaku replied. “Your double genitalia are what makes it difficult to know if the conception will be effective or not.” 

“And how will you find that out?” Sukuna asked, trying to understand what he was talking about. 

“The only way we can know is by empirical research,” Kenjaku replied. 

“Empirical research, huh?” The king tasted the words in his mouth in confusion. 

“You know what I mean, don't you?” Kenjaku quickly deduced that his boss was not keeping up with the conversation. 

“Not at all,” Sukuna answered honestly. 

“Coitus,” Kenjaku replied. The older curse looked at him with no fucking idea what he was talking about. “Sex?” The master asked. There was no reaction. “The devil’s tango?” He tried a more vulgar version of the concept. Nothing. “Do you know how humans reproduce?” Sukuna shrugged.

This was worse than he imagined, but it didn't surprise him in the least. Sukuna should remember almost nothing of his past life as a sorcerer. Besides, he has been murdering and eating humans for as long as he can remember in his entire life, so he knows a lot about them. As a hunter he knows hares and deer to stalk, but not enough to understand them. He knows how they act under stress, sadness and life and death situations. Now, Sukuna was to learn about one of the greatest causes of joy for humans: reproduction. 

“Human reproduction is complicated.” Kenjaku mentally prepared himself to give a lesson to the ignorant king. “It is divided into many phases, but we will focus for now on the first one: the sexual act.”

“Just tell me what to do and I will do it,” the king ordered him to get to the point.

 “It's not that simple and even less so if it's you,” Kenjaku joked to himself.

“There is nothing I can't do,” Sukuna threatened him with the look that he was losing his patience. 

“I don't doubt it, my king, but it will be difficult to go from causing pain to pleasure,” he explained. 

“Pleasure? That's a waste of time. I just want an heir,” Sukuna scoffed. 

“If you want an heir so badly, you must give y/n pleasure,” the teacher explained. 

Now that would be tricky. The only pleasure Sukuna knew was terrorizing and killing people. It was the reason he woke up every day. He doubted it would even cause you to smile since you cared so much about others. Every time you saw him it was the same anguished and timid face as always. Like you were walking through eggshells every time you saw him. 

“Luckily, I got ahead of this problem,” Kenjaku said. “I took the liberty of choosing some novels that illustrate what he must do to satisfy the lady and conceive a seed,” he announced while handing her a couple of books marked with dividers indicating what she had to read. “If you still have questions, I will answer them in the morning.”

“Do you plan for me to read all of this by tomorrow?” Sukuna asked him while going through the books. 

“What, you can't?” Kenjaku asked sarcastically, knowing it would hurt the king's ego. In the blink of an eye, Sukuna cut Kenjaku's cheek with his technique. “That's my cue to leave,” he said with a bow to get out of her sight as soon as possible.

“Wait,” he ordered him, stopping the master suddenly. “Do you know if Mahito is busy?” Now it was Kenjaku who arched his eyebrow.

You were brushing your hair in front of the dressing table. The red moon was seeping through one of the holes in the rose window. You had put on a pink nightgown that matched your fuzzy slippers. Bedtime was approaching, along with the night's anxiety. You still had no clear target for your assassination, but at least you knew that one of the servants would naturally die soon. That calmed your worries about choosing a victim, but the anxiety of having to kill someone was getting the better of you. 

The door abruptly opened. You jumped out of your seat and grabbed the golden comb like a boomerang, ready to throw it in case it was a surprise attack. You were reassured to see that it was only Yorozu, who was laughing hysterically at your frightened reaction. 

“You should see your face, you look like you've seen a ghost!” He scoffed as he jumped onto your bed. 

“What are you doing here? You know it's curfew.” You asked worriedly. Uraume would cheat her if she found out I was in your room. 

“Are you kicking me out again?” I already apologized to the old lady. We are already the best friends in the world,” you really doubted it after hearing how Mrs. Inoue had expressed herself about her. 

“I just want you to know that even though we have more privileges than the servants, we still work for the king so we must obey his rules,” you explained gently as you sat down next to her. 

“Nah, we are not equal,” Yorozu said proudly. 

“We are humans, just like all the servants,” you shook your head. 

“No, you are equal to all humans. I, on the other hand, am superior to all humans,” your sister answered stubbornly. 

“But the king will only use you like all of us.” You told her in frustration. “Don't you see? If it weren't for your powers, you would have died by now.” Clearly, you were worried about her. 

“You don't know that,” Yorozu pouted at you. 

“I've seen the king kill people just for looking them in the eye without their permission. He's a bloody tyrant.” You grabbed her by the shoulders in an attempt to talk some sense into her.

“Do you hate him that much?” Yorozu asked you, in an attempt to change the conversation. 

“It's complicated,” you answered with a sigh. 

“Then why don't you give me your job?”

“What?” You asked dumbfounded. 

“Just think about it. You don't want to marry him. He seems interested in me for his personal use. I have everything it takes to be a queen. It's a win-win,” your sister explained as if it was the best plan in the world.

“I don't think you realize you're missing out on all this. King Sukuna may be acting gentle, but he's a cold-blooded killer. One wrong step and you're dead. Do you really want to die like that?” You were trying to talk sense into her at all costs, but she just wouldn't try. 

“If it's at the hands of the king, yes,” she replied. 

“You're crazy,” you whispered in disbelief at how foolish she was before you let her go. Where had it all gone wrong? “Just answer me something. Would you kill for him?” You asked her, begging her with your eyes to say “no”. 

“All the men he asks me to,” you recoiled in defeat, but a new feeling of justice grew in you. 

After hearing what Mrs. Inoue had to say and from what your sister herself was making clear to you, you now had a wish you wanted to fulfill. No matter what. Yorozu wouldn't be Sukuna's queen. If the king was already a horrible tyrant, then her as his queen would only make things worse. If you were the queen, some would die. If your younger sister was the queen, thousands would die. You were sure of that. You couldn't let her become a tyrant.

“Wow, you really love him, don't you?” You asked with a smile.

“That's right! The king is so strong, big, rich, and handsome. I love him and I want him to be mine, but I need your help,” Yorozu asked you with a pout.

“Tell me and I'll do it,” you replied.

“Tell him about me. Tell him that I'm a better candidate for queen than you and that I'll be the happiest girl in the world if he looks in my direction. If you do, I promise I'll give you the best life in the world.” You already knew that speech by heart. It was the same silly speech she told your mother to buy her a new dress with the few savings she had. Only you weren't stupid enough to fall for her empty promises.

"How about I tell her now?" You proposed excitedly.

"Really? Would you do that for me?" Yorozu replied.

"Of course. I owe you for hitting you," you told her remorsefully. "Just stay here. I'll take care of everything." You forced her to sit on your bed.

"You're the best!" Yorozu exclaimed as she clapped her hands proud of you.

"It didn't take long!" You said with a smile before closing the door.

The fake smile disappeared as you walked through the dark hallways with determination towards your king's room. You walked stealthily to avoid attracting the attention of Uraume or any of the curses that guarded the halls in case of a surprise invasion. Now you had a clear objective. Prevent Yorozu from becoming a queen at all costs.

The count opened the door with his heart in his hand. She must be the only person he expected to see under the beauty of midnight. It was her, his beautiful beloved wrapped in pink lace. His lips pounced on her with the force of a desperate hurricane. They couldn't waste a second of this spontaneous encounter away from everyone. He unwrapped her like a birthday present and laid her down on the bed. He was going to make love to her as if this were the last night he would be alive.

"So love is made?" Sukuna wondered as he read Letters of Passion. One of the novels that Kenjaku had asked him to read so he could learn about sex. He read in the comfort of the armchair that faced directly in front of the lit fireplace. The small crackles of the fire against the wood were the only things that accompanied him on this cold night, along with the hundreds of golden artifacts that shone from the warmth of the flames excited by the fuel. Now he understood why Kenjaku had told him to let him know his doubts in the morning. He wasn't understanding anything he was reading. Sukuna has always been a direct and initiative-taking being, he just wanted to leave his seed and that's it. Why waste time on kisses, caresses and hugs? Kenjaku had told him that he should do it for you, but he doubted that you would want him to do something like that. Surely you also wanted him to finish quickly. You weren't the enamored count and his beloved, you were just a monster and a slave. He licked his finger to turn the page, but a familiar voice distracted him.

“My king, are you awake?” You asked from the other side of the door.

Sukuna opened the door, finding you in pink pajamas. He was going to ask you what you were doing in his chambers after the clear curfew hour, but he ended up hyper-focusing on the lace that delicately decorated your chest. “Like in the book,” he thought in surprise. “Choosing some novels that illustrate what he should do with the young lady,” Kenjaku quoted in his mind. Was this how it all started?

“I’m sorry to bother you late at night, but…” Your words were interrupted by your king’s lips against yours.

In a kind of surprise attack, Sukuna bent down to your level to kiss you softly on the lips. If this was how he was supposed to do it, he might as well take advantage of it. Even though he was on the right track, he was missing one detail: that you wanted to kiss him too. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the gentle attack against your person. Your first reaction was to step back, but Sukuna quickly grabbed your waist to stop you from escaping. His four eyes stared back at you before deepening the kiss. You had no choice but to play along with your tongue as your mind searched for answers. “What does he think he’s doing?!” you thought in panic as his kisses moved in accordance with the rhythm he had set. “Did the king steal my first kiss?!”

Kissing the king felt like you were committing the worst of crimes, but you slowly got used to it like an acquired taste. He was fierce but kind, like the calm in the middle of the terrible storm. After a few seconds of special tasting, you realized something. “Wait, this is perfect for Yorozu not becoming queen!” you thought before closing your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the passionate act. Your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him just as close, melting into the warmth of the approach in an attempt to coax him in your own way.

It was strange. Too strange. Why were you closing your eyes? Why were you hugging him? Were you really enjoying it? Is this how it should be? Sukuna had no idea what he was doing, but he was enjoying it. He knew you would reciprocate, but surely it was because you would do anything for him. Your lips were juicy and sweet, it must have been because of all the desserts you had consumed during the day. If he concentrated he could guess the taste of the macaron you had eaten after dinner.

As the novel dictated, he carried you by the thighs with ease to get you into the room without breaking the kiss that slowly became wilder. He laid you down on the bed gently to take possession of your body. You knew so well that he didn't seem to want to stop anytime soon. You were so gentle with him even though he deserved to be punished for his multiple genocides. With his lower hands, he took your pajamas and lifted them up to show your naked body. "Are we really going to do this?" you thought worriedly as you closed your legs feeling the wetness in your crotch.

Sukuna threw the pajamas on the armchair where he was sitting and broke the kiss to admire you beneath him. Your leg over the other, your hands covering your breasts shyly and your cheeks flushed, was something he hadn't seen since the last time you showered together. You were very nervous, more than other times. Your lips were parted and shone against the firelight from the saliva you had exchanged. You looked beautiful, but there was a small problem.

“Is something wrong, my king?” You asked him worried when you saw that he just looked at you without doing anything else.

“I don't know what to do now,” he admitted.

“Excuse me?”

Sukuna stood up to take the book he was reading and throw it at you. You sat on the bed confused to try to figure out what was going on. You looked at the king and then at the suggestive title of the novel he had given you. You opened the book to the passage he was reading and immediately blushed. “I just acted out what was happening in the book” you concluded before slamming the book shut.

“Kenjaku told me to do it,” Sukuna explained. “Kenjaku?!” you thought astonished. “Love is made?” He asked you directly as if they were casually chatting and you weren't completely naked. Sukuna really was a strange curse.

With that question you could deduce what was going on. Sukuna wants an heir, but he doesn’t know how to get one. So, he sent Kenjaku to investigate and gave him an erotic novel so he could understand. “Why didn’t they ask me before?” you thought as you covered your uncomfortable nakedness with your arms.

“Something like that…” you answered. “Love must already exist for it to happen. Making love is a mere literary expression that refers to sex.”

“Damn! Everyone keeps repeating that word, but I don’t know what that is!” Sukuna complained.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his ignorance. You had always seen Sukuna as a powerful curse that knows everything. Seeing him so frustrated at not being able to understand a subject so simple for you made you laugh a little. “Wait, does this mean that the king is a virgin too?”

“You know what it means, don’t you?” He asked you directly. You nodded shyly.

You knew what sex was thanks to the education your mother gave you, but you knew how to do it thanks to the friends Yorozu made at the balls. They always talk about the gorgeous knights and what they wanted to do to them in such detail that sometimes they surprised you at how graphic and vulgar they could be.

“You owe me a favor for saving your sister at the harvest,” Sukuna reminded you. You had already forgotten that detail. “Teach me what sex is.”

“That means you want to make your heir… Now?” You asked him confused.

“What?!” The king was really lost. He had many questions and almost no answers.

Not expecting that reaction, you burst out laughing. You were laughing. You were laughing with him. It had never occurred to him that he could hear you having fun so close. It was as if you weren't afraid of his reaction for making fun of him. You were treating him like he was just another human. He blushed when he realized that he was surely acting like a lunatic in front of you.

“Let me explain,” you took his hand to sit him on the bed next to you. He obeyed your guidance. “Just pay attention”

You explained to him how sexual relations worked, the difference between the types of sex and how vaginal penetration is the only way to achieve conception. Sukuna listened intently as you explained everything to him as if he were an innocent 12-year-old boy. Then, you explained how pregnancy works. That was the easiest part to explain, since you had seen your mother get pregnant twice. The king nodded at everything you said as a sign that he was paying attention to you.

“Wow, it’s more complicated than I thought,” Sukuna said when you finished your master class.

“You just have to worry about the conception part, I’ll take care of the rest, my king,” you explained.

“No, I have to make sure you and the baby are okay,” he said before rubbing your bare stomach as if there was already a baby there. “Let me worry about it.”

Your cheeks turned red at those words. You really thought the king would leave you alone once conception had taken place like many families did. After all, Sukuna was a very busy king so it wouldn’t surprise you, but you had misjudged him.

“Thank you, my king,” you told him before kissing his cheek softly.

You smiled genuinely at him and he tried to return the gesture, but he only showed his teeth like a dog trying to smile. You laughed at how silly he looked and shook your head to stop him from doing it. You and Sukuna sat on the edge of the bed in silence for a while while you watched the small bonfire. The heat was so much that it didn't bother you to be naked, but it was better to look for your clothes before you caught a cold. You got out of bed to look for the nightgown that the king had taken from you.

"And by the way, what are you doing here at this hour?" Sukuna asked you to remember the time it was. "Ah, that's right, I came to tell him something."

"I wanted to ask him to stop training Yorozu for a while," you asked the king, starting the operation: "Yorozu can't be queen."

"Excuse me?"

"I understand that she is a sorceress that can be used for future battles and protection, but her attitude has worsened since she arrived at the castle and it makes everyone uncomfortable," you explained. “It bothers everyone in the service, even Uraume.”

“I know that,” he answered. “Uraume had never given me a service report as bad as your sister's”

He remembers the day Uraume left the report on his desk like every two weeks. Even though her face was monotonous as always, he knew from her attitude that she had left him a bomb in the form of words. She had dedicated herself to writing three pages explaining what a terrible servant Yorozu was and why she should kill her soon. She had a headache just from resisting the urge to kill her for your sake.

“Even though we are both adults, I am still her older sister, so it is my duty to discipline her.”

“And what does this have to do with training?” Sukuna asked.

“She sees training with you as a reward, it is fun because she can tempt you to her liking and that must stop. She must learn how to behave around you. What good is a powerful weapon if it's going to act under its own regime?” You knew that wasn't the reason you didn't want me to stop training with him, but if you wanted the king to be on your side, you had to give him his side. “Plus, it'll give me the chance to practice how to deal with a rebellious child once I become a mother.” You also had to infantilize Yorozu as much as possible so that the king wouldn't see her as a possible candidate for queen.

“Okay. I'll stop training her until I see that her attitude has changed.” Sukuna accepted your notion. Maybe too quickly, since you thought he would fight a little harder because he wanted to make his new weapon more powerful as soon as possible, but it had worked. “Check” you thought, avoiding a smile to prevent the king from seeing your true intentions.

“Thank you, my king,” you thanked him with a bow. “That would be all. I'm leaving to let you rest.” You turned around to go back the way you came, but Sukuna grabbed your arm. You looked at him confused as he stopped you.

“It’s curfew. If Uraume or some curse sees you in the hallways, they have the right to eat you alive.” You gasped, you didn’t know that was the reason for the curfew. “You’ll stay with me tonight,” he ordered.

Sukuna pulled you by the arm to get you into bed. He carefully tucked you in next to him so you were as warm as possible. You had known each other for so long that you felt comfortable with the idea of ​​sleeping next to him. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you watched him settle into the large pillows. His skin glowed orange from the fireplace, while he combed his pink hair back, causing his muscles to flex in front of you. “I can’t believe this king was my first kiss” you thought before turning around so he wouldn’t notice your blush.

It had been a while since you slept with him, but this time was different. Before, you were just a servant who only obeyed his orders to the letter and trembled just by looking at him. Sukuna had only slept with you because he saw you as a sleepy pet, but now you felt like he really wanted to sleep with his future wife. You felt Sukuna’s arms snake over your body like that time to catch you by the waist and shoulders. He pressed you against his body while you felt his heavy breathing in your ear. If only he knew that this was the only thing he had to do to give you pleasure.

“My king,” you called him in a whisper.

“What?” he asked you as he closed his eyes.

“Do you have feelings for me?” you asked him curiously.

“Like what feelings?” he asked back.

You smiled and closed your eyes to drift off to sleep. You didn't know why you had asked now, but it confirmed that he had no feelings for you. He only saw you as the future mother of his heir and that was it, but for some reason that made you happy. You hugged back his arms that held you while you caressed his hands.

“Forget it, my king. Rest well,” you said before resting your head on his bicep.

Next →

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Masterlist.

tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540

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[wroteclassicaly]

Warnings: Just some cute and domestic fluff.

Hearing the beeping smoke alarm just regulating. The quiet of the trailer. Even the occasional chirp of the bird Wayne got as a gift from you. He loves birds and bird watching, nowadays. When you wake up, Eddie is asleep, his scarred, bare back at your disposal, sheets pulled around his trim waistline, barely covering his unclothed ass. He’s not the lightest sleeper, so you simply slide out of bed, working your panties back on from last night, a discarded baggy shirt with holes you’d left here, and grab your bath robe off his corner chair. One last look at the messy haired boy in your shared bed, you can’t believe that you’re in this moment with him - so lucky, so happy.

The realization that you’re still a little unsteady on your feet from previous activities, it has you gripping the panel walls. The soft hum of the set has you smiling as you approach the kitchen, Wayne bent over the couch trying to pack a few things in his camp duffel. There’s freshly brewed coffee that you inhale, and Shiner (the bird) makes note of your presence. Your tap a finger at his cage.

“Good mornin’, kiddo. Did I wake you guys?” Wayne manages a smile, and you shake your head.

“Good morning. And no, you didn’t.” You motion towards his bag. “You leaving for a bit?”

It’s so cute how bashful he is. He motions towards the weather report through a haze of colors on the little set. You nod. “Gonna be a stormy day, so thought I’d take my lady fishin’ for a bit. Stay at hers, get some rest before the drive out. She’s makin’ us a picnic.”

You really wanna bottle this man up and keep him safe, because he’s practically glowing right now.

“Did you get breakfast? I can have an omelet and some bacon for in a few minutes.” You place your mug down after several passing moments.

He zips up his bag and shakes his head at you fondly. “Actually, I did. Picked up some McDonald’s after my shift. Left your’s and Ed’s shares in the oven to keep warm. Should be all right still.”

You marvel, thanking him, moving to swiftly kiss his cheek as he zips his bag closed, patting his pockets for a double check. You’re retrieving the food by the time he’s stepping out the door.

“Love ya, sweetheart. Tell my boy I said love him too. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Love you, Wayne. Be safe, okay? Tell Ms. Henderson we say hello. Let Dustin know Eds will call him a little later for tonight’s match, if you don’t mind?”

~*~

He has woken up, scratching his belly and rubbing his massive, curly bed head, clad in his sweats and a shirt by the time you have the food plated. You pretend you don’t hear him, distracted by task. His soft, spicy scent and the smell of you clings to his skin as he approaches your backside, sliding his arms around you, chin pressing into your shoulder. “You left me in a mountain of sheets. I was lost without you, empress.”

“I think you faired well on your corridor travels, my King.” You turn in his arms to see that cheeky grin.

Both of you automatically lean in to meet mouths, that fresh desperation and desire never failing to excel its presence. “Hey, baby.” You greet in between kisses, his hands squeezing your waist through the fluffy fabric.

On the noisy breakaway, he leaves a few more clicks to your lips, accepting the plate you offer him and the coffee, making a move towards the couch as you join. “Did Wayne have an over?” He tucks a sweat clad length beneath him, one of your borrowed shirts hanging from his slender form.

“Overnight date with Dustin’s momma.”

Eddie just grins, but then he does that face (the one where he knows he’s forgotten something, and attempts to tackle the misplaced thought). You catch on quickly. “Told him to tell Dustin to call later for your meeting details. It’s supposed to storm all day.”

He takes a bit of his sausage breakfast roll, wiggling his brows. “Good. Mother Nature providing the master with her sound effects.”

“And…” he starts with another add on. “Gives us a lot of time to ourselves, sweetheart.”

You simply bury yourself into his neck, listening to his raspy chuckle, and finish your breakfast after Eddie has changed the weather to an old movie channel. You shower first whilst Eddie tidies up the place and puts on clean bedclothes, and he showers after, giving you time to put away the rest of the laundry. He doesn’t waste a second after coming out, not even a towel on. He finds you, already waiting, that sensed, shared energy — encouraged by a summer storm. He lays you down in his bed and you don’t leave until evening… reluctantly.

[lala056]

Exhausting

I have no respect for billford shippers that look down on stancest shippers.

Oh what, you’d have me believe a genetic tie to a partner is somehow worse than being with someone that stabs through your hands, forces you to swallow live spiders, and also SA’s you by having yourself forcibly strip down in public and swing your clothes over your head like a helicopter? (sorry but anyone that forcibly removes your clothes and exposes your body, even if you’re a guy/lacking breasts and it’s just your chest, is committing SA against you. They’re exposing your body against your will plain and simple. Try to write that off how you like but that’s the facts)

The logic behind this baffles me honestly.

There’s a reason Alex titled that kissing drawing as "the worst drawing in the world" and then linked to an amazon BIBLE page (yeah I know that was part of a joke well guess what he frequently uses the bible joke for shipping in general so yeah).

Because he knows it’s BAD, TOXIC, PROBLEMATIC AS YOU GUYS LIKE TO LABEL THINGS. What I see people incorrectly accuse PROSHIPPERS to REPRESENT rather than the actual representation of the LIVE AND LET LIVE CREDO OF SHIPPING.

Ever stop to consider that maybe Alex didn’t do stancest or art involving Wendy/Dipper because he simply a) didn’t like those ships, which is valid since everyone has their own tastes, and he did base some of these characters on his own family so it’s close to home for him, or b) knows how toxic and chronically online a lot of haters are? That he wanted to avoid drama for this stream that he’s trying to milk every cent out of for CHARITY? (It's ridiculous how many times he felt obligated to say "REMEMBER IT'S FOR CHARITY" when shipping came up just to try and prevent any meltdowns from uptight fans and viewers. And even then he still didn't do some because he knew the fact of it being for charity still wouldn't fly for some- because a lot of people would rather watch REAL PEOPLE SUFFER to preserve their fictional sensitivities)

Not to mention he still works with Disney (chibiverse hello), any backlash (the form of false pedo accusations or incest apologist accusations being what happens to be thrown around all willy nilly nowadays over fictional bullshit) could get him blocked not only from working with the company ever again, but lose any input he might have over his beloved passion project and baby Gravity Falls itself?

This is a man who has said COUNTLESSLY that he doesn’t care about ships, has even encouraged people to "be weirder" and made omelet hypotheticals for how much HE DOESN’T CARE BECAUSE FICTIONAL SHIPS DON’T MATTER.

Alex Hirsch is a KING.

And it’s sad to see that so many of his loyal subjets are so bigoted and blind to ignore his own feelings in order to justify their own, or to somehow perform the mental gymnastics in order to absolve themselves of "thought crimes" so that they can feel like they aren’t bad people under the imposition of conservative purity culture.

The terms "cest" and "age" are trigger words now. If those show up in any form, pitchforks come out and roofs get burned. Companies overreact and overcompensate. He said Disney people were watching, so of course he’s gonna say and act in what is deemed an appropriate manner because even companies apparently prefer abusive relationships to ones that have a blood tie even if blood ties are wholesomely depicted.

The age old double standards.

And don’t get me started on bringing up Dipper Goes To Taco Bell. Alex and cast know of that story, they’ve made references to it in a video game and such, immortalized it. They engage with all corners of their fandom, also shown by Jason’s "saving the town" reference on stream.

Another thing, anyone notice how they laughed off the Dipper and Wendy suggestion Jason made, rather than exploded? BECAUSE THEY DON'T CARE IT'S NOT THAT SERIOUS - and most likely turned them down because they know there's more drama about characters being aged up and crap so it wouldn't have mattered if they're adults now, there are people who will always see them as "kids".

Point is - If there was such a strong hate on Alex’s part about the darker side of fiction or taboos he’d do all in his power to make sure they were never mentioned again and be active against them. 

He’s a kind, caring man that obviously likes to just get along with people, but he does put his foot down when he feels something is awful. He’s made political posts about presidents he feels are corrupt and spoken out against social injustice. You honestly think he wouldn’t speak out about those taboo ships in frank language if he thought that they shouldn’t exist and that the people who create for them are awful?

Newsflash, he would. Yes, he’d isolate a sadly small part of his fanbase, but he’s shown time and again he doesn’t care about being liked. He cares about what’s right.

And abusing others over which made up character kisses who, isn’t.

If you’re someone that mislabels proshippers too, to mean "problematic shippers", then as a billford shipper you’re one by definition. And yes, I'm including you AU billford shippers too because there is always some degree of toxicity.

Knock the hate and abuse off. People that go off about why their ship is justified and another isn't are the reason people leave fandoms and leave amazing works often unfinished, even Gen writers and artists.

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

FIVE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

“Ehm… Well, it's not much to look at…” He said with a shoulder shrug when we walked into his apartment. It looked like an old storage space but was lightly renovated to be used as a studio apartment. It was quite big but had a cold feeling with the brick walls and concrete floor. The only thing that contrasted with the grays and browns was the wall opposite the windows. It was full of graffiti, both really great ones and bad ones. There was a cool one of a smoking racoon, but someone had sprayed over the joint with a badly painted cock. Against that wall stood a big king-size bed with black silky sheets. The luxury feeling of the bed didn't fit in, and I wondered if he had it like that to get girls into it more easily. I looked at him while he hung up both our coats on a metal hanger that fit with the industrial feeling of the apartment. He moved smoothly and gracefully, but it was something that made him look boyishly nervous, like he was fourteen showing his room to a girl for the first time. That he would be a player didn't feel right, even if he had the looks for it. 

“Have you lived here a long time?” I asked so I didn't need to comment on how it looked. 

“Two years, I think,” said he with a shoulder shrug and walked in on purple ankle socks. I hadn't taken off my Dr. Martens but felt a need to do it when he walked around in his socks. 

“Do you want something to eat?” He opened the fridge and looked up and down in it with pursed lips. I smiled to myself by his sweet ways and walked up to his side when my boots were off. “An omelet?” 

“No thank you, but have something if you need to.” I looked up at him with a smile, and he looked at me with those big green eyes I've dreamt so much about. I felt a sob in my nose and throat that wanted to come out and make me ugly cry, but I swallowed it down and smiled even broader to cover it up. 

“Nah, I shouldn't…” he said and shook his head, closing the fridge. Instead, he took a leap and jumped up to something in the high ceiling. It was a silver bar, and easily he pulled himself up and down without a complaint. If another dude had done something like that, I would just immediately think he was trying to impress, but Eric was harder to read. He could also just have a need to do it. Something had made an addict look like a Calvin Klein model. Either it was steroids or it was a need for excessive training. 

He jumped down lithely and moved to the green couch that stood in the middle of the room in front of the TV. He turned to me and scratched his neck. 

“You can take the bed if you want.” 

I could see that he wanted to be a gentleman and say that, but the couch was just a two-seat couch, and something told me his height, and that couch didn't add up. I giggled a little at his pained face. He really wanted to be that great guy, but it was like he already could feel the pain in his back. 

“I'll take the couch…” If you don't want me to sleep in the bed together with you, I continued in my head. In my dreams, we slept in the same bed many times, but now I didn't even get to sit on the edge of it. 

Eric laughed a bit embarrassed when he saw my teasing expression. 

“Thank you,” he said, but then gathered a cover and pillow from his bed and gave them to me. He walked to a dresser, and I could see how he searched for new sheets. 

“I don't need a change of sheets. It's just a night. And it's time to go to bed for both of us.” 

I held the cover tightly in my hands like I was afraid he would pull it away from me. He looked at me a bit confused but just nodded. He didn't seem to understand that I actually wanted to sleep in his used sheets. I just wanted to smell him and hopefully take some of his heavenly scent with me home in my hair. 

I saw in the corner of my eyes him strip down to just a pair of black boxers, and I took my chance to look at him when he turned his back on me. Even his back was perfect. Okay, the barbed wire tattoo was far from perfect, but on him everything was perfect. I looked at the muscles shift under his pale skin and how great the boxers sat over his ass. I just wanted to bite one of those juicy cheeks. 

I had sat down on the couch, watching him when he turned around and showed of abs and a muscular chest. 

“Do you want to borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?” 

I wanted to ask if I could wear the one he had worn that night, but instead I just said yes to his question. He gave me a big white t-shirt which I changed into with my back against him. I didn't feel shy about my body in front of him because, for me, we had already done that bit. I just turned around because it felt more natural than showing my tits to him while he crawled down in bed. 

I turned around when I had his t-shirt on along with my simple black panties. He smiled a little from where he was lying under his cover, but I couldn't interpret what it meant. 

“Weird thing, but is it okay I have the radio on? I can't sleep without it,” he asked and sounded uncomfortable. I had heard others needing to have sound in the background while they sleep. Like a man my mom told me about who needed to have the vacuum cleaner on, anything to drown out their anxiety. We had laughed at that man, but looking at Eric, I didn't feel a need to laugh at all. I knew more about him than he had told me and could imagine what kind of anxiety he had. 

“Of course, sure, it can be cozy,” I said sweetly to make him relax. He smiled a little surprised by my words and nodded. 

He had the sound louder than I had thought, and I listened to a debate about the use of oil in the world. I didn't know if he was already asleep, but I knew he couldn't see me, so I sniffed his sheets and dragged a hand over my own chest. If I could, I would have laid down next to him, but Eric acted so polite to me that it didn't feel right to be so forward. With another guy, I might have done it, but Eric didn't feel like the type that would be happy to suddenly have company in his bed. 

××× 

I hadn't noticed when I fell asleep and I woke up with a jerk. I remembered exactly where I was and who I was with, and that made my problem feel even bigger. The alcohol had made me sleep heavy like a rock, so I hadn't noticed when the red fluid had run from between my legs and down under me. I could feel the sticky mess between my thighs but also knew that I obviously had a stain under me, a stain on Eric's green couch. 

I didn't know what to do because if I stood up, it would probably cause even more of the blood to run out of me, and I didn't have any panties to change to either. For a moment I just sat there and let the panic grow inside me until I started to cry out of anxiety. 

“Oh my god…” I said lowly to myself, between the heavy tears. I couldn't see any solution to my mess and sat frozen under Eric's black cover. 

“Hey… Are you okay?” I could hear a raspy morning voice say from the side of the room. If it wasn't for my panic, I would have appreciated how sexy he sounded, but now I couldn’t help but cry. 

“I'm sorry…”

Eric stood up from bed groggily, like his muscles didn't remember to hold him up, and looked at me with big, worried eyes.

“Do you want to go home? I can get you a cab. I can… I can stay in bed if you want your privacy. I've done that all night. Promise. I promise.” 

He stood with his hands up like he wanted to show he was unarmed, and his facial expression was anxious. I looked at him and realized he thought this moment was just as hard as for me but for other reasons. He thought I had panicked when I realized where I was. He was afraid I would accuse him of something. 

“We didn't do anything. We just slept. Like really slept, ehm…” He dragged his hands over his hips nervously over and over. 

“No, no, I know that, Eric. You can be calm; it's just…” I started to sob again, and Eric's first reaction seemed to be to sit down next to me and comfort me. 

“No! No! Don't sit down!” 

Once again, he raised his hands. I took a deep breath. 

“I've got my period and… It's everywhere. On your couch too.” 

He looked at me with big eyes and sat down on the coffee table in front of me. 

“Oh.” 

His short answer made me feel awkward, and I started to cry again. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for destroying your couch-” 

“No, no.” He interrupted me and gave me a calming smile. “It's okay shit happens, but… How can I help you? Do you need something to wear? Do you have tampons?” He said it so relaxed and kindly that I couldn't do anything else but smile. 

"Yeah, I have some in my purse, but… Everything is bloody…” I said embarrassed and dragged my hands over my face, showing signs of my crying. 

“I don't have panties…” he said with an awkward chuckle. “But can I offer you a pair of my underwear and a pair of pants?” 

“Yeah, that would be kind but… There's blood everywhere.” 

“Trust me, I've seen worse. I’ll look away while you go to the bathroom, and then I’ll leave the clothes and your handbag outside of the door so you can just take them. Ehh… Do you need a towel? You can shower if you want too?” 

I looked at him with soft eyes. He did everything right. A true gentleman behind that trashy style. He really was the same sweet guy as in my dream. The warmth in my chest said everything—I was in love with him. So in love with him. 

“That would be nice… But the couch?” 

“I take care of that. It's a removable cover. I will just get a new one.” 

I looked at him with a pained expression, and he probably could see I was on my way to cry again because he stood up and walked away to the window. 

“I'll have a cigarette on the roof while you go to the bathroom, okay?” 

I nodded and didn't ask about what he meant about the roof. I just assumed he meant he had a roof under the window to jump out on. 

××× 

He fixed everything. A dark gray towel, a pair of black boxers, black Adidas sweatpants, my handbag, my bra, and top, a plastic bag for my dirty clothes, but also… 

“There is an extra toothbrush on the highest shelf in the cabinet,” he said through the door when I was done with everything else. I stood in his boxers, his long sweatpants, and my black long sleeved top. Just that simple sentence made me tear up again. What a man he was. He was thinking about everything. Lotti had done a great job with him, to be honest, much better than she had done with Robin, and I wondered if Eric just had that in him. That sweetness. 

When I was done, I walked out to Eric, standing in the little open kitchen. He loaded an old, white coffee maker and was dressed in boxers and a black tank top. He didn't seem to have noticed that I had come out, and for a minute I had the luxury to just look at him. He stood with a hand under the tank top, scratching his tattooed stomach while watching the coffee run down the pot. I looked towards the couch and saw that he had removed the cover on one of the cushions, and once again I felt heavy shame. I had destroyed his couch. 

“Oh, hey, I didn't hear you,” Eric said to me, and I looked at him again. 

“Thank you… And I'm sorry again for destroying your couch.” Eric smiled a little and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I'll try to wash it later.” 

The thought about him scrubbing my period stain was probably the worst thing I could imagine, and I laid my hands over my face. 

“I said it is okay.” He laid his big hands on my shoulders, and they weighed me down comfortingly. I took a deep breath and looked at him but couldn't stop myself from sneaking my arms around his waist. In my dreams, he would have hugged me, and real Eric did too. He laid his long arms over my shoulders and dragged his hands comfortingly over my back. I didn't know if I'd gotten such a good hug before, and after a while, engulfed in his embrace and his wonderful scent, I breathed slowly and calmly. 

“God, you're so perfect,” I said to him with my nose pressed against his chest. Eric laughed a little, and I could feel him shake his head. I looked up at him confused because, for me, it was obvious he was perfect. 

“You're such a great guy, Eric.” He looked away embarrassed and didn't seem to know if he wanted to smile or not.

“I'm not really, but… Thanks?” 

He laughed unsurely and looked down at me. I continued to stare at him, and he gave me a little smile and a shoulder shrug. Once again, I was reminded of the couch and pushed my face onto his chest again. 

“I'm really sorry for destroying your couch…” 

Eric laughed now. 

“What can I do to make you forget about that? 

I looked up at him again, then stood up on my toes. I searched for deep eye contact, and in my embarrassment, I didn't feel like I had anything to lose.

“Kiss me.” 

Eric doubted and looked away, but then down at me and put my hair behind my ear with some struggle. 

“I can't really date right now…” 

“I don't care. Just kiss me.” 

So he did. After a while of looking at me seriously, he laid his hands on my cheeks and steered my face towards his. He pressed his lips softly against mine, just like he had done in my dream, and they were soft as silk. It was he that made me separate my lips so our tongues could meet. When he did that, he also opened a gate to my heart and planted infinite love for him. 

××× 

“Do you want coffee?” He said with his voice raspy again after we had shared a few soft kisses. I looked up at him and giggled when I saw his pink cheeks and dazed eyes. He gave me a crooked smile and a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah, coffee, please,” I said and released his waist reluctantly. 

He made an omelet for each of us and explained that he eats six eggs per day, sometimes even more than that if he didn't have time to do a proper dinner.

“Is it because of the workout?” I said and took a bite of the fluffy omelet. We sat on the floor by his coffee table because he didn't have a dinner table, and I didn't dare to sit on his couch. 

“Yeah, I need the protein.” 

“You look so great, but is it worth it? I mean, work out so much, eat so boring…” 

I had a thought it maybe was connected to his addiction, but he hadn't told me himself he had an addiction, so he believed I didn't know anything about that. He shrugged his shoulders and chewed the big bite of omelet he had in his mouth but didn't finish before he had started talking. 

“I like it. It's a hobby. And I have something to really focus on ehm…” 

He swallowed and looked down on his plate, thinking about something. 

“It's good for me.” It felt like his thought was to say something else and he looked away a bit awkwardly. I wanted him to be honest with me; I wouldn't judge him for his baggage, but clearly he judged himself for it. 

“Do you train or anything?” He asked and made me feel a bit stupid. I didn't work out much, and maybe he would think I sounded lazy. 

“I worked out at the gym once a week or something, but then I did something to my shoulder, and yeah, I started to just go out with my dog.” 

Eric smiled a little and nodded. 

We talked about Odin. I shared that he had a strong will and it was hard to discipline him. He seemed to have too much energy and too many ideas but was also afraid of much and barked at people, dogs, and sounds. Eric listened without trying to pretend he knew anything about raising a dog, even if I wondered if he knew. He had been able to calm down Odin both in my dream and also outside of the store; still, he didn't say anything; he just said he thought Odin would become better with age. 

I could feel when we talked that I knew too much because I got a little upset he didn't share more with me. If I hadn't known so much about him already, I wouldn't have thought about it, but now I just waited on him to tell me about his dog Max, which he had had when he was little. 

“Have you had any pets?” I asked just to lead the way to him talking more openly. Eric laughed a little and put down his cutlery on the empty plate. 

“I have cats. But they’re not mine. I have three that break in here, so I have started to give them food. I don't know who's cats they are.” He smirked with a shoulder shrug, and I laughed. It was actually even better hearing him talk about things I didn't know anything about. 

“How do they come in?” 

“The window, they're not some sort of master burglars.” I laughed at him and shook my head. 

“Have you named them?” 

“Yeah, Orange, Black, and Orange Number Two.”

I giggled, put down my cutlery, and then searched Eric's eyes. He smirked at me a little embarrassed and then lowered his eyes like he realized now he had a girl in his home. 

Slowly I started to crawl on all four to him in a cat-like fashion while thinking about what kind of games he liked in bed. He turned to me a little and didn't protest when I crawled up in his lap. 

“You're sexy, you know that?” He said with a shy smile and dragged his hands over the small of my back. 

“Yeah,” I faked an attitude and made him smirk. “But you're so much sexier… Can I just…” I took a hold of the edge of his tank top, and he leaned back a bit when I pulled it up to look at his abs. I made a pleased sound while Eric breathed heavily with his mouth open. 

“Good boy,” I whispered and dragged my fingers over the tattoo on the side of his stomach, but “good” had been crossed over. I looked deep into his eyes and gave him a harder kiss than before. 

“You're a good boy.

××× 

We stood together in the subway station, closer together than I had expected. It was he who had pressed his body against mine, but it was me who stood on tiptoes to have my arms around his neck. 

“You're cute in my pants. But I want them back,” he smirked, and careful fingers dragged over the elastic waistband. I wondered if that meant he wanted to see me again. 

“What are you doing next weekend? I work, but I have the half-night free? I always meet Nick and Jackie when I work the early shift, and…” He dragged a hand over his face in the middle of his rambling, and it warmed my heart but also calmed me down to see him like that. 

“I would love to visit you, if that's what you mean, but I don't have a dogsitter.” I said with a disappointed shoulder shrug. 

“Bring him?” 

He said it like it was obvious, and I furrowed my brows. 

“I don't think you understand what a pain in the ass he can be. If I destroy your couch, he will destroy your whole home.” 

Eric laughed and hugged my waist. 

“Then he can destroy my home; you've seen my home. There’s not much of worth there anyway.” 

He smiled sweetly and looked at me intensely, waiting for me to say yes. I giggled and dragged a finger over “Lullaby” tattooed over his brow. 

“Okay.” 

We exchanged numbers, even if I already had his but pretended I didn't, then we kissed over and over until I needed to go to my subway line. It was hard to let him go because I could feel how my heart stayed in his tattooed hands. 

××× 

Robin rang the doorbell the next Saturday when he left Odin to me. Otherwise, he always invited himself in, but that day he seemed to understand it would be inappropriate when we hadn't settled our fight yet. 

Before opening the door, I closed the one to my bedroom, where I was packing things to bring to my stay at my oldest sister, or maybe the stay at Eric's. Black outfits and lacy lingerie shared space with my beauty products. I had decided with my sister that I would stay until Monday, and I hoped Eric wanted to hang out with me one more night. 

Robin stood awkwardly in the hallway when I had let them in while I sat on the floor, saying hello to our wild dog. I could feel his energy and looked up at him with a small but kind smile. I was mad because of what he had done to Lotti but also knew what I was doing wasn't right either. 

“Do you want a cup of tea? I need one myself,” I said with a shoulder shrug, and Robin gave me a nod. 

“Yeah yeah.” 

We sat down on my deep purple couch with a big tea cup each. I didn't have time for a long chat, but I wanted us to get along again. We were dog parents together, best friends, but he was also the brother to the guy I was in love with.

“I know what we do to our mom seems horrible, but… She's sick and has always worried about Eric so much she more or less became sick from that. He has always disappointed her,” he said and looked down in his cup with a sad expression. “My parents didn't know what shit they would find themselves in years later when they… Started to take care of Eric. I guess they just saw a cute two-year-old with big eyes.” He shrugged his shoulders, but I didn't say anything because I wanted him to continue to talk. “His mom was a crazy junkie and would come and try to take back Eric and even hit dad once. It was then social service decided he would live with us even if he showed signs of being just like his mom. He could get fucking crazy too, and then he started with the drugs. He even stole dad's asthma medication. He was… He is… Sometimes it feels like he's an addict before a human, you know? He can't stop, and it will always be more important than everything.” 

Robin sighed deeply and rubbed his eye. I still sat quiet and tried to understand that it was Eric he talked about. The guy who had given me his boxers and made an omelet when I had left a big red stain on his couch. 

“I see that you think I'm awful for saying it like that, but… You don't get how much harm an addict can do just to get drugs, and my parents were way too nice to do anything else than serve him.” 

“But why did he say yes to ‘play dead’ then?” 

“Dad died and mom was destroyed, but instead of helping her, he just did more drugs and then ODed. We all thought he would die, and when mom got a stroke and thought he actually had, we thought-” 

“You thought. If he was totally gone on drugs, I don't think he could even discuss such a thing.” I said it more angrily than was appropriate for the situation he thought we were in, but I was just thinking about the man I had kissed six days ago. 

“Fine!” Robin said, irritated. “I don't understand why you care so much. I was forced to handle an awful situation in some way. My dad was dead, my mom sick, and… Eric, he just wanted to shoot up. What do you think I should have done?” 

He looked up at me with shiny eyes, and a lonely tear spilled over. I felt awful for judging him so hard because I couldn't say what I would have done. I put down my cup on the coffee table and then crawled up to him so I could hug him hard. Like usual, it was the only thing he needed to start crying violently. I felt so bad for him, for him needing to make such hard decisions all by himself and carrying that alone. I wish he had told me instead of lying, but there was also another side of this story. Eric had lost everything. Robin had decided that he wasn't worthy to have a mother anymore. Eric had also lost his dad and not only had a sick mom but also a mom he wasn't allowed to meet. Everything because he had a drug addiction he no longer has. Right? He was clean now?

×××

Robin and I said goodbye as friends, and an hour later I took mom and dad's car with Odin to meet Robin's brother. I knew Eric was a good man and took Robin's story with a pinch of salt and didn't feel any worry about meeting Eric. My heart beat at the thought of being close to him again.

Demi and her daughter stood once again with me while I applied my makeup, but instead of being an audience, they had a verbal fight about Demi wanting alone time with me, but her daughter refused to leave the bathroom. After her dad had raised his voice, she did what my sister wanted and closed the door to the bathroom on the way out.

“Don't have kids,” she joked and rolled her eyes. She sat on the toilet lid, turned to me, and played with her long ponytail.

“Trust me, I won't,” I said sincerely, but my sister laughed like it was a joke.

“You will feel different when you're in love… Don't you think Eric wants kids?” She teased. I looked at myself in the mirror and took a break from applying my mascara.

“To be honest, no. I don't think he wants kids. It would surprise me.”

“Hm…” Demi sounded a bit disappointed. “So, do you remember you promised to show pictures of him in exchange for staying here?” She sounded teasing again and made me roll my eyes with a smirk. I was a bit nervous to show the pictures to her but also proud. He was so hot and so ripped. I had never been with a guy so fit, and I don’t believe my sister had either. It was the pictures from Lotti I had photographed, close, so it would look like it was the original pictures.

Demi looked up at me with a confused expression while she scrolled between the close-up of a smiling Eric and a shirtless Eric. She shifted between looking at the pictures and me, and I could feel she would say something bad.

‘You dated Dante, a sweet, trustworthy, tanned Italian, and left him because you thought he had asshole-y behaviors, so you instead started to date this? This?”

I didn't want to talk about Dante because he was an asshole, even if no one in my family could see it.

“Don't you see how hot he is?” I said instead and made Demi shrug her shoulders.

“Yes, he's hot, but do you see what's doodled over that hotness? That's 300 bad decisions."

I sounded out in frustration and continued to do my makeup.

“What's his story? Is he a criminal? An addict?”

I didn't answer and instead shut off when she continued to talk and made him sound like a stereotype. I threw down my deep pink lipstick in my handbag but stopped for a second to look inside it. The pack of condoms stared back at me and made me feel awful. I had never been so stressed about protection but felt different now. Even I had my prejudice about Eric.

×

[amuseintime]

Line, Please

Heya guys! Anyone who's followed me on AO3 for a while probably knows about The Play Is Over But The Script Remains/the Scriptfrin Saga... Buuut decided to start sharing on tumblr too. While this is not the first chronologically for the series, it IS the first I wrote, and works as a oneshot, so thought it'd be a good starter ^w^

For anyone who hasn't read this already...

Time Loops are bound to have some strange, lingering effects. Thankfully, Siffrin knows his lines, so everything’s okay, right? Sometimes JUST his lines… Siffrin’s family tries to help them when they start “scripting,” unable to summon up any words but the ones they’d spat far too many times. Mirabelle POV (more or less) and written in one sitting. Hurt/comfort

Semi-verbal Siffrin ahead, and obviously, spoilers for In Stars and Time. Enjoy~

It’d been a few weeks since they’d beaten the king. A few weeks since breaking both his curse and Siffrin’s. A few weeks since they decided to keep traveling together. They were on the road this lovely morning, camping in the woods as they often had. Birds sang their cheerful Piou Piou as Bonnie threw a bunch of leftover ingredients into a mass of omelettes. Most smelled quite good, but everyone silently agreed that Siffrin would get the “honor” of trying the Pear and Cream Omelet. Isabeau was taking down most of the tents while Odile worked on purifying some water with craft, leaving Mirabelle awkwardly idle. Sure, she’d been the one to chop the firewood—scissors craft was useful for that—but it still felt wrong to be the only one not helping!

Though look! It seemed she was no longer alone.

“Good morning Siffrin, did you sleep okay?” Mirabelle asked gently. Hopefully he wouldn’t find it condescending, but these days, it was something worth asking…

His curse may have been broken, but he still suffered from it.

“Hey Mira, have you thought about doing a sleepover tonight?”

“Um… we do those… every night?” Mirabelle said. She had a sinking feeling in her gut, but no need to panic yet! Maybe it was just a strange but innocent question, maybe it’d be a one off, maybe-

“Absolutely, I’ll let everyone know!”

“Siffrin, that’s not…” Deep breaths Mirabelle, you couldn’t panic now! Panicking would just make him panic, and then they’d both be panicking, and that wouldn’t help anyone, and-

Deep breaths, Mira. In… and out… (Thank you, Siffrin, for teaching her that). She took an acting class once, as one of the many, many classes she took at the House of Change. It wasn’t one that had interested her all that much, but time to put at least a bit to good use. She kept a smile on her face and forced her cadence cheerful as she raised her voice, looking at the others. “Hey guys! Siffrin is scripting again! What should we do about that?”

It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Sometimes, something would occur that was a bit too similar to something that already happened and he’d just run with it. He described it as instinct. Blind. Deaf. Unthinking. As ingrained as returning a hello, or his attempts to wink despite only having one eye so it looks like blinking. He just woke up though, what would’ve triggered it? Maybe her being the first he saw? But that hadn’t happened in days! Turned out he just needed to be carried in a tent if he fell asleep outside—waking up on grass to sunshine and temperate weather was, sadly, a trigger. So something else?

A few times he just started falling back on lines when he got too stressed out… oh! A nightmare, maybe? That seemed most likely. Or if he had a nightmare about waking up in loops, it could be both… either way, that’s….

“Why are you acting so happy about that, you crab!” Bonnie yelled, glaring at her.

In a tone way too teasing to be any more natural than Mirrabelle’s, Odile said, “Because, young one, if we get too upset, Siffrin might panic.”

… what she said. Unfortunately, trying to just shock Siffrin out of his script tended to only lead to him shouting his lines instead. Turns out, adding stress to something stress related does NOT fix it!

Siffrin wandered over to Isabeau and greeted him with a cheerful, “Hey Isa! Need to do the favor tree thing!”

All of them looked at Siffrin helplessly with uneasy, clearly fake smiles except Bonnie. Bonnie stared at him with a clearly concerned pout. “So. What do we do?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Because while they were learning some of Siffrin’s triggers and that trying too hard to break him out might very well make it worse…

They didn’t have a solution.

Siffrin, for his part, was apparently scripting so thoroughly that he was, in fact, trying to act out a day, ignoring that they were in a forest and there were no particularly large trees in favor of just finding a bit of root sticking out of the ground to sit on. He stared across from himself, waiting…

Waiting…

“… Loop?” Siffrin said. He blinked (or winked???) his eye rapidly, as though trying to clear something out from it. His head slowly swiveled as he took the world in with an utterly lost expression. Finally, he settled on Mira. “Where is everyone again?” The playfully embarrassed cadence didn’t fit his wide-eyed expression or shaking hands at all, but it was just another sad thing to get used to.

Where is everyone? What did that mean though? Could he not see them? Maybe the trees were hiding one of them from view? Perhaps Bonnie? He’d had a few lines pretty clearly concerned for the kid and-

“We’re in the Liligant Woods,” Odile said, “twelve days north of Vaugarde. We’re headed to Bambouch to reunite with Bonnie’s sister, and the loops have been over for three weeks.”

Oh , Mira thought, feeling a bit silly. That made sense, actually. There probably wasn’t any time where Siffrin needed to ask where he was (not many options there!), just everyone else…

Isabeau knelt across from Sif, close enough for their rogue to reach out to him, but not touching yet. (Another thing they failed on. He didn’t mind touch, actually, he just wasn’t used to it). “Are you back with us, buddy?”

“Isaaaaaaaaa!” Siffrin cringed at his own cheer, screwing his face up while the next lines spilled from his mouth. “What a… TREE-mendous tree.” He then face palmed, but cracked a smile as Isa laughed despite the situation.

“Sure is! Maybe not an actual favor tree, but still, gotta love these leaves, right? Look! Five pointed! Like a, uh…”

“They’re called constellations .” Siffrin paused, then shook his head.

“They’re… not?” Mirabelle said.

“I think you mean stars, right? Like that word you say under your breath!” Isabeau said.

Siffrin actually smiled a little at that. He inched forward a bit, but paused. It was hard to tell what, exactly, he was thinking, but as Isa opened his arms for a hug, Siffrin almost literally fell into them.

Isa grinned and scooped Siffrin up like a little princess, bringing him over to the fire.

Bonnie grinned, taking a plate. “Heyfrin! I know you can’t say how cool and awesome and delicious they are ‘cause you’re stuck with the same lines, but! OMELETTES! And one of them, is my secret special one! Try it!”

Oh. Oh no. Mira had to try her best not to grin, a skill honed through many puns. Luckily madame had a great poker face, and Bonnie would look eager no matter what, so really only Isa was going to give it away, and  Frin was too busy being held and blushing and pointedly not looking to see Isa trying not to laugh.

Siffrin. Poor, trusting Siffrin took a bite of the dreaded pear and cream omelet and managed to smile despite it, chewing for way too long.

Madame smirked at him, “So, how was it, young one?”

Siffrin gave a thumbs up, a grin, and said, “Croissants.”

“Hmm… bad then,” Bonnie said, nodding sagely. They put a stick on their nose and pushed it up like it was a pair of glasses and pretended to write something down. “No one appreciates my gee-nee-us. I am researching omelette ology. Very important, makes my back hurt.”

”Really, Boniface?” Odile said, though she couldn’t stifle a laugh. “We’ll see how your back is doing in forty years.”

The actually good omelets were passed around shortly after. Unfortunately, Siffrin had to be returned to the ground so Isa could eat too. Sure, Isa probably could’ve carried Sif under one arm like a sack of potatoes, but then Siffrin would have a hard time eating, so really this was best for everyone.

Siffrin only picked at breakfast though, except for when Bonnie was watching. Thankfully, he could scarf down food fast enough that a bit of child-staring ensured he was fed, but…

“… hey, are you okay? I’d, uh, say we should have a feelings talk, but given the circumstances…” Isabeau said. He was trying to stay positive, but everyone could see him trying almost as hard as Siffrin to find words, but neither could.

Odile spoke up next, “Well, whenever you do, I don’t mind listening either.”

“Woop woop.”

“Are you sassing me?” Odile said, eyebrow raised.

“In a while, Rockodile!” Siffrin said with a grin.

“NO!” Bonnie shouted.

Siffrin opened his mouth with one of those cat-like grins he gave before making a pun, but what came out, well, wasn’t, “Rice. Pineapples. Samosas.” He chuckled like he’d said something, but everyone’s confusion and worry must’ve shown. He slunk back, trying to hide under a hat he didn’t have anymore.

“… Siffrin?” Mirabelle said, reaching a hand out but stopping short.

“… take my ashes and throw them from the highest peak,” he said, pulling his legs up to his chest and hiding in them.

Mirabelle’s heart twisted in her chest. He’d been doing so well, but she couldn’t imagine this was easy. It was tempting, to try to just keep going, to smooth it over for them, but would that help? It might just make things worse, and even if she asked, he couldn’t answer.

“Sif?” Isabeau said.

Siffrin had gotten up, leaving. “Sleepover, clock tower, see you there!”

The others started talking, moving, but Mirabelle sat, still thinking.

How would that feel? To wake up and barely be able to communicate? To go off thinking she was doing one thing and realize she was somewhere completely different? To try to apologize, but not having the words. It feels uncomfortable just imagining it, but with other people, it’s worse. It’d be so frustrating to look up, to try to talk, but then not be able to understand. And then trying anyways, it’d be so sweet, but she’d feel guilty for it. Wouldn’t it just be easier to leave? Then they wouldn’t have to adjust for her. Though maybe that was just her anxiety speaking, telling her that others wouldn’t want to deal with it, but isn’t this anxiety too? Fear and pain and trauma? Maybe not exactly the same, but still. And imagine that happening so quickly? Asking everyone to accommodate her? Everyone to…

Change.

Stand up Mirabelle. This is your cue. “I’ve got this.”

Siffrin was fast, he’d already run off, but he was upset enough that he didn’t bother hiding his tracks (or maybe he wanted found). Bushes and grass were pushed aside, branches broken, an easy trail. Siffrin sat by a stream, muttering lines to himself and tugging at his hair in frustration. It tore at her heart. In some ways, it was hard to imagine this was the same, playful and near-careless traveler they met on the road…

“You’ve Changed,” Mirabelle said.

Siffrin jumped, twirling around. “Mirabelle, have you heard of the CARROT method?” He tugged on his hair again, teeth grit. In other circumstances, maybe it’d be comical to see him throw a fit after saying something out of context, but knowing he couldn’t stop…

“I have, actually,” Mira said. “Thank you.” She went to sit beside him, watching the water flow. “… it’s hard, isn’t it? Changing.”

He blinked at her, opening his mouth before nodding his head. Siffrin sat back down, just watching.

“A lot of people come into the House all the time, you know? To learn, to try new things, to become different people. It’s expected, celebrated even, but it doesn’t mean we take it lightly. Change is destruction, and you have to weigh that when you decide to Change…”

“And you didn’t get that choice, did you?”

Siffrin shook his head, tears beading in his eyes.

“That’s alright. Sometimes it just happens. And, well… you can’t always get back what you lost, but you can still try to Change in ways you’d rather, y’know? And, um…” she swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Maybe we should go over strategy?” Siffrin said, putting a hand on her back.

“Thanks Siffrin, but- hey! Wait! I’m supposed to be comforting you!”

He chuckled under his breath.

Mira huffed a little, but smiled. “The point is, well, yes, you’ve Changed. And it was forced on you, so now you’re something you probably didn’t want, but that doesn’t mean we stop living you. A lot of people Change all the time, and we still welcome back whoever they are now. I’d be a crabbing TERRIBLE house maiden if I left you just because you have some trouble communicating now.”

Siffrin’s breath hitched and he inched closer, slowly putting his head on her shoulder. Wetness soaked the fabric there as she threaded fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. I’m here. You Changed, but I still love you.”

His hands came out, tugging almost desperately on the fabric. The hug was near-crushing, almost painful. Perfect.

“There there… I get it. Having trouble with, um, thoughts and all. And I can barely imagine, I’m, making you guys try to figure things out, but we want to, okay? Besides, I’m great at learning! I’ve learned so much I taught classes on learning! And, um, maybe im not naturally as smart as Isabeau and Odile, but they are! And kids can Change really easily, and the point is we care. We care enough to Change with you, to learn. If you’ll stick around and give us the chance.”

He couldn’t muster more than a nod between sobs as an answer, but that was good enough for her. They sat there until Siffrin cried themselves out, leaning lightly against her as they returned.

He only let go to collapse into Isabeau’s arms instead.

“Good talk?”

“Sounds like there’s nothing else for me to add, huh?” Siffrin said. It was hard to pin his voice, hard to say when he’d use this line, but at least for now he was smiling.

-------

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[tadc-harlequin-au]

What an egg? I got like... 12 of these bad boys. Brown, hefty. They were just lying around in some pen in some guys backyard, you can just take em. You can make some omelets with em. Get some smoked salmon, cream cheese, and bagels? We'd eat like kings. Can you please take one, I had to fight like... 7 chickens to get these and they scratched. They scratched a lot. Unrelated, you want some chicken too? I got like... 7 of em. Fry em, cook em, put em in a pot?

I need to get rid of this evidence man, the cops will start to ask questions.

ooooooo free eggs and free chickens! Don't mind if I d-

[blackreaderfics]

Hygge | Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ Pairing : Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ Rating :  T

↳ Summary : Nanami breaks his well cultivated routine 

↳ W.C : 4.4k

↳ A/N: the voices in my head got me y’all… this is a purely self indulgent fic featuring relatable king Nanami (I, too, do not dream of labor✊🏾) and black girlbossqueen Tiana

↳ Tags + Warnings: xenophobia from a side character, fluff, set in Tokyo, next door neighbors, cultural differences, salaryman x cafe owner, they can speak each other’s languages but not fluently

🎵 A Commuter’s Trip (The Commuter OST) by Roque Baños

🎵 Hello Stranger by KAI

Hygge (n.) | Danish

“the feeling of calm, comfort, and contentment evoked by life’s simple joys”

Nanami had a simple routine. Wake up at 6, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast by 7:45 and be out of the door—at the latest—a minute before 8. He had everything calculated to the T. If Nanami had been a minute too late—let’s say 8:01— he would miss the morning train and therefore be late for work, and he was never late. He had taken into account all contingencies i.e. a train delay, traffic, inclement weather, and made sure he was prepared for any and all possibilities.

That’s why, much to his chagrin, he was “Employee of the Month” every month since he had been promoted from associate to advisor. Most workers would’ve taken pride in that, felt their presence valued at their company. But Nanami didn’t care much for awards or titles, in fact, he just hated working period. He made sure to always clock out at 6 p.m. on the dot. One minute more would be overtime and he didn’t want to give his thankless job a second more of his labor. 

When he left work, he always went straight home. When his head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes, thoughts about the next day would drift into his mind. 

Did the market close up or down? What reports did he need to finish? There’s a client meeting coming up; the presentation deck needs to be prepared… Just two more days. Get through two more days and it’s the weekend. 

And so on and so on. Wash rinse repeat. 

He presumed this endless cycle of corporate monotony would continue until the day he turned 40, after which he could retire and live modestly in a country like Malaysia or the Philippines to catch up on all the reading he missed. Perhaps even find a nice woman and marry her while he was there.

The marriage part was new—an afterthought after years of daydreaming—and he didn’t really think much about the kind of woman he wanted to marry. What she looked like or what she did was more of an amorphous thought, a vague idea in his mind. 

Until her.

He met her by accident. Nanami had been cooking, a hobby he only indulged in on the weekends, and he was just in the middle of making a rolled omelet when he heard a loud thump outside his door.

His apartment building was more of an office building which meant that his floor didn’t get much traffic. The people who rented rooms were not really tenants who lived there, but workers looking for an extra workspace.  He had assumed the thump to be a delivery man outside his door so, naturally, he was surprised when it wasn’t the post, but a foreigner woman standing outside the room next door.

The woman had a heavy bag of groceries balanced in the crook of her arm and another by her feet that he presumed had been the source of the sound. When they made eye contact, he had been so startled that he quickly closed his door. The apartment next to his had been empty for months, but it looked like it had finally been rented out. 

He thought nothing more of it until her very presence began to infiltrate his well-maintained routine. Every morning, if he was quiet enough, he could faintly hear her humming as he got dressed. Other times, he could hear upbeat jazzy music on the weekends if he opened his window.

Every night, he was surrounded by the fragrance of whatever she seemed to be cooking. Most of the time it was sweet, other times it was savory. It wasn’t an unpleasant aroma, just noticeable to the point where its absence would feel strange. There were days when they would leave for work at the same time, though oftentimes he would end up holding the elevator door open for her when she left her apartment a few minutes after he did. 

In the brief moments they encountered, Nanami made small observations about her: She was an American. Beautiful. Unmarried—Americans wore rings on their ring finger to signify marital status, he’d noticed she didn’t.

He couldn’t infer her job or what exactly brought her to Tokyo in the first place from her appearance alone, however. He’d seen a fair amount of young foreign teachers in the city. He wondered if she was a teacher. She looked young enough. A missionary? She dressed modestly and wore sensible shoes. Her curly hair was often tied into a low bun. From the very slim list of what young American women did for work in Tokyo, he decided on teacher and his curiosity was sated. 

One day he found out. After a long day of work, he walked his usual route from the train station back to his apartment building but was redirected due to construction at his usual subway exit. When he alighted from the escalator he was on a different street entirely. The extra few minutes from this detour would undoubtedly cut into the time he’d set aside to unwind, and subsequently, he’d have to make a few adjustments to still get a full 8 hours of sleep.

He loosened his tie and sighed inwardly as he walked on. Since he’d moved to this district last year he didn’t make much effort to visit any new places. For all he was concerned, he only really needed to know his route to work and the nearest Starbucks. 

So when he passed by a small cafe called “Tiana’s Place”, it didn’t immediately click that the jazz he’d heard playing softly from her apartment was the same music that was playing now. It was familiar enough that it gave him pause. Where had he heard that song before? When he finally caught sight of her—his neighbor— through the glass window, it finally registered that she wasn’t a teacher or a missionary, but a cafe worker, and from the looks of it, she owned the place. 

He watched her dimples deepen as she interacted with customers, giving each and every one of them a tireless smile. Before he knew it, Nanami found himself inside the cafe whisked into the after-work rush of impatient office workers. She was so busy already, the only indication of strain being a moment when she blew the hair out of her face before the next customer walked up to order. He planned to buy something small and leave; he wanted to give her time to catch her breath but inadvertently in his musings he was already holding up the line. 

She was…right in front of him? And speaking to him now? It was the first time he’d heard her voice and he decided it suited her. She spoke in Japanese and, though accented, was clear and practiced enough in a way that impressed him.

“Are you still deciding, sir?” Impossibly large brown eyes waited in expectation for him to order.

He broke out of his reverie quickly enough to make it seem like his stalling was deliberate, his unmarred poker face further upholding the charade.

He scanned the prepackaged foods and retrieved the first thing that looked like bread. “Just this.” 

“Good choice,” She looked positively elated as she scanned the barcode and activated the card machine. “Beignets are my specialty.” She was beaming at him. Not in a “thank you come again” customer way but like in a he’d just made her entire week way. She was so laughably easy to please that it discomfited him.

He muttered a “thank you”, taking the package and turning to leave quickly before he met her eyes again. The Fall of Icarus was a cautionary tale for a reason, he wouldn’t risk another trip into the sun.

Nanami’s routine had drastically altered over the next few weeks. Every morning he’d gotten used to riding down the elevator with her. They greeted each other regularly, albeit a bit awkwardly, in the shared space—A slight bow from him as he held the doors open, reciprocated by a grateful wave from her.

The last time they shared an elevator, however, they'd accidentally brushed hands while reaching for the ground floor button. For some reason, that unnerved Nanami. So now, most times, he avoided that, opting to wait and listen to the click of her door before he left the house. For good measure, he started taking the stairs. As a result, Nanami had added an extra 10 minutes to his morning commute.

The detour, having yet to be fixed, took him past the café every day. Though Nanami knew the process of waiting in line would add an extra 15 minutes to his after-work trek, he did so anyway, calculating that picking up a quick dinner bento would be a fair trade to taking the time to cook something for himself. 

“What can I get for you today, sir?”  

He knew her name now—Tiana, from the name tag she wore, and the sign on the storefront. He noticed from the way her eyes would widen as he approached, that she recognized him now too.

“Black tea. No sugar, please.” He placed his usual prepackaged meal and packet of beignets on the counter, taking out his wallet. Nanami didn’t always plan to add beignets to every order, but he found himself reaching for them every time, dreading her predictable delight when he did. Ordering tea was another stroke of impulse he didn’t account for, but it wasn’t so busy now, he could enjoy it before he went home.

He decided on a table by the window, savoring the warm liquid as the sun set to a melancholy soundtrack of brass and bass. It was like being transported to another time, outside of crowded subway cars and the hustle of his high-powered office.

Nanami closed his eyes and felt something akin to contentment. When he exhaled, the stiffness in his shoulders abated, and the strain behind his eyes subsided. Was this what it was like to finally relax? 

He was about to take another sip of his drink when he heard a loud bang. The front door to the restaurant had flown open, a bulky man with greasy hair and a lecherous smile stalking in. Nanami’s eyes trailed after the man’s movements, the cup still raised to his lip.

“I’d like a dozen of those powdered donut things. Ya got any of those?” The man leered at the part-timer manning the counter. He sauntered back and forth at the register, eying the self-serve pastries in the display. 

“Sure, would you like them fresh? There aren’t enough ready-made ones for a dozen, but if you’re willing to wait there’s a new batch being made—” 

The man picked up a package of beignets that had been warming under a heated case and without warning, ripped open the package and took a bite.

“S-sir! You need to pay for that first!” The part-timer sputtered.

“Well, I’m waitin’ for that new batch. I wanna try before I buy.” The delinquent guffawed and attempted another gleeful bite only for the pastry to be smacked out of his hand and onto the floor.

He whirled around to face Tiana, bursting into laughter upon seeing her. “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

“Call the police,” Tiana stated calmly to her employee as she stared down the man. Her usual polite smile had been replaced with a stony-faced expression. “Sir, if you’re not going to buy anything then it’s best you leave.”

“Huh? What was that? I can barely understand you, foreign bit-AHh” A pressure on the man’s shoulder made him crumple in pain.

“Your ears must not be working. I can understand her perfectly well,” Nanami murmured, his vice-like grip squeezing at the juncture between the man’s neck and shoulder. While the delinquent whimpered pathetically at the deepening pressure, Nanami directed his attention to Tiana, motioning with a slight tilt of his head for her to step away. “It’s not worth your trouble, I’ll take care of it.” 

She nodded reluctantly and joined her staff member who was now waiting with a phone at her ear behind the counter.

Nanami appeared to be saying something to the man now, but in a volume that Tiana couldn’t hear. His face was calm, betraying no emotion while the delinquent paled gradually in terror, trembling under his grip. The moment Nanami released him, the man scrambled out of his grasp and prostrated himself on all fours.

“I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I PROMISE I WON’T DO IT AGAIN PLEASE—” He shouted hysterically and proceeded to do a fervent bow of penitence. 

Tiana looked at Nanami quizzically but was only met with a mild shrug. 

“Alright alright,” she stepped around the counter to placate him. If he could just stop snotting up the floor she just mopped and get out of there, they could just forget this all happened.

The tinkling bell sound of the cafe door opening interrupted the scene; everyone’s attention shifted from the blubbering man on the floor to the police officer who had just stepped in. 

Before anyone could speak, the man sprang up from the ground and ran toward the policeman. “OFFICER! IT'S ALL MY FAULT I ADMIT IT! ARREST ME, PLEASE! JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

Within 10 minutes the offender was cuffed—willingly, to the cop’s surprise— and whisked noisily out of the cafe just as quickly as he’d burst in. Nanami, suddenly uninterested in the commotion, walked calmly back to his table and gathered his things. 

Tiana made her way over to Nanami, eyeing the man through the window. He was currently being escorted to a police car on the curb. Still in hysterics, he’d practically thrown himself into the back of the car.

“Ok…what on earth did you say to that man?” She quirked an eyebrow at the blonde businessman.

That this cafe is his one and only oasis in the heaping pile of shit called life, and if even so much as one insignificant waste of air like him tries to ruin it he’ll have no choice but to chop his fingers off one by one and shove them down his throat so hard he’ll be shitting fingernails for weeks…among other things.

It would’ve been improper to divulge this to Tiana, of course.

“I asked him to apologize,” he said instead in simple English, a far cry from the eloquently horrific threats he’d made in his native language. 

“Really?” She asked, accepting the sudden change of language in stride. Her arms were crossed, her hip jutted to the side, face incredulous. “Just like that?”

“I’m rather persuasive.”

After a beat she laughed. 

Nanami didn’t consider himself a funny person. And frankly, he didn’t understand why she was laughing now but he welcomed it, if only to see that the earlier disturbance hadn’t caused her too much distress.

“Well, thank you kindly,” she drawled in between giggles, her southern accent now unmistakable when she switched to English. “Mister…” 

“Kento.” He offered his first name, aware he was skipping over several customary stages of familiarity. In any other case, anyone less than an acquaintance addressing him by his first name would be extremely frowned upon. But it was common business practice to use given names when dealing with American clients; he thought it fitting to do the same with her.

He reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a silver business card holder, and passed over an impressive looking card: 

Nanami Kento, Investment Advisor

“If there are any similar issues please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He repeated an English phrase that had come in handy from past business dealings.

“Mr. Kento,” she repeated to herself with finality studying the card. Tiana faintly wondered why a guy with a fancy title—and the most expensive suits she’d ever laid eyes on— lived in the modest one-room apartment right next to hers. She pocketed the card and patted around for her own business card. 

“I would’ve given you my own card too. But if you ever need to contact me—”

“Boss!” Her part-timer called out, waving her over from where she stood next to a police officer holding a clipboard.

“I’d better go, you know where to find me.” She excused herself with an apologetic smile.

Unfortunately for Nanami, this little ordeal had cost him another hour of wasted time.

The next day Nanami waited for the familiar click of her door shutting before starting his commute. When he exited his apartment, he could still see the silhouette of her back walking towards the elevator bank. 

She left without an umbrella, he noted to himself as he walked part of the way down the hallway. He imagined walking up to her and bringing it up casually as they waited for the elevator. But as soon as she’d turned his direction he changed course abruptly, legs moving on their own through the emergency exit and down the stairs.

Work went on as usual. He sat at his desk going over the pitch deck, but his eyes could not seem to follow the text. Instead, he found himself gazing out the window, watching the clouds slowly darken in the horizon. 

“Fucking weather, right? News said it’s gonna rain like a bitch the next few days.”

His boss had walked up behind him, crouching at his eye level to see what Nanami was looking at. 

“Hope you brought your galoshes, rookie, we’re going overtime today for that big client meeting. Dinner’s on me.” His boss clapped a hand on his shoulder and went off to bother a different team.

He tried to return his attention to his work, but he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes against the blue light of his computer screen. All he could think about was the rain.

Tiana had hoped that by the time she closed, the rain would’ve stopped. But she found herself outside the doors of the cafe, reluctant to leave. The rain hadn’t let up, and it didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon.

It was a day of disappointments. On top of forgetting her umbrella, Nanami hadn’t come into the shop that day. She’d gotten used to seeing him enter the store at the same time every day, and perhaps even looked forward to it. 

She took one tentative step outside, shivering through the draft of wind. She didn’t live far, maybe it would be alright if she just ran home with a plastic bag over her head. Tiana locked the door behind her and raised the collar of her jacket, clasping it with her hand to protect her neck. On the count of three, she lifted the plastic takeout bag over her head and took the plunge.

After a few strides in the pelting rain, it suddenly stopped—She had run into something or someone. The rain made it difficult to see where she was going so she blindly sputtered a reflexive “I’m so sorry!” in English at whoever it was that she had run into.

When she wiped the rain out of her eyes she could see nothing but an impeccably tailored pinstripe suit in the dim of the streetlights. It was Nanami and he was holding an umbrella over her head. His collar was unbuttoned without a tie, and he looked utterly exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced from where she stood underneath him.

“Mr. Kento? Are you alright? What are you—”

“I figured you could use an umbrella,” he said dryly and pretty pointedly at her makeshift plastic bag hat.

“Yea, I guess I could use one of those,” she laughed breathlessly and took the bag off her head, before giving him one of those heart-stopping smiles he loathed. “You saved my life.*”

The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, amused. Perhaps because her choice of words sounded highly literal, almost…cute?, in Japanese. He “saved her life” just by sharing his umbrella? Americans were known to have a penchant for the dramatic. But he didn’t bother to correct her, instead, he only hummed somewhat of an affirmative response.

They walked in a comfortable silence down a familiar tree-lined path leading to their apartment building. She noticed Nanami’s shoulder getting wet, and leaned closer to him. 

Feeling the imperceptible shift, he gave the woman beside him a sidelong glance. His eyes settled on the loose wisp of hair he’d always seen her blowing out of her face.

It bothered him.

Maybe it was the fatigue-driven delirium, but he was struck with the inane compulsion to brush that lock out of her eyes. He couldn’t have been more grateful for the umbrella currently occupying his hand, otherwise, he would’ve indulged it.

Tiana reached over and gently adjusted the umbrella closer over his side. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that nice suit of yours,” she said softly.

“I hate this suit.” The curt statement came off a bit more brusque than he’d initially intended, though, it was true. He hated that suit and everything it represented.

She looked at him curiously, wondering if this was another aspect of his humor. But from what she could see on his countenance, he was entirely serious. 

He glanced at her again, catching the confused look on her face. “I don’t mind if it gets wet,” he reiterated this time with the intended lack of severity, along with a kind of finality that implied an end to the discussion of his suit and his decision to prioritize her dryness. They continued the rest of the way, the umbrella above them biased towards her side.

When they got to the apartment he held the building door open, letting her walk through first. 

“Thank you again for yesterday. That man, he was—” she paused to conjure the correct word.

“He was being a nuisance,” he completed, pushing the button for the elevator door. Naturally, he had chosen the same number for their floors, and when they arrived at their floor he waited for her to alight before walking after her.

When they finally reached their neighboring doors, he set his umbrella on the hallway floor for it to dry and began to punch in the code for his door. 

“Mr. Kento, wait a moment.”

He stilled his movement and watched as she rummaged into her purse. 

Tiana pulled out a paper box from her bag and presented it to him, “I was going to give these to you earlier if you came in. Glad they didn’t get wet.”

It was a small gesture. Even so, he was reluctant to take it.

“You… didn’t have to,” he frowned, eyeing the box.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, either,” she shrugged. 

“We’re neighbors. We were going in the same direction,” he said plainly, though, he didn’t entirely believe the words as they left his mouth either. It was unlike him to go anywhere else except straight home after working overtime. He hadn’t run into her by some coincidence or divine guidance. He’d gone there on purpose, and he had a sinking feeling she figured that out already too.

“Then just think of it as a ‘thank you gift’,” she insisted, tugging gently at his wrist and nudging the box softly into his hands. “For being my favorite customer.”

He shifted uncomfortably to receive the box with both hands. It was an unfamiliar concept for him to be anyone’s favorite anything.

“Good night, Mr. Kento.” Tiana’s voice had an amused lilt to it. Nanami must’ve stood there frozen because she was already halfway through her door, a knowing smile on her lips.

He regained his composure and mumbled back a formal “Good night, Miss. Tiana,” —her name a bit alien on his tongue—before retreating back inside.

When the door shut behind him, he immediately shed his suit jacket. His body was much too warm despite one side being wet; his collar much too tight, despite his lack of tie.

Nanami stared at the assortment of pastries that Tiana had given to him. He couldn’t recall the last time he willingly ate dessert though he assumed if he had, it would’ve probably been with Gojo and his infantile palate.

Truthfully, Nanami didn’t really like sweets at all. The first time he bought those beignets, he’d just picked up the first thing in line that day and just…never stopped buying it. Over the past weeks, he’d amassed a bevy of unopened bags of the foreign confection and they were occupying the much-needed counter space of his kitchen. 

It was rather ironic for an investment advisor to be so frivolous with his money. Spending on foods he didn’t even eat when was supposed to be saving it didn’t make any sort of financial sense. He had been planning to retire by 40, and now he’d have to add an extra 5 years to his projections over mere fried dough.

Nanami turned over the yellow business card for “Tiana’s Place” that he had found wedged in the box. A simple “Bon Appétit ;) -T.” was written on the back.

He picked up a beignet from the box and took a bite—It was made for him, after all. He chewed it slowly, the consistency not too far off from that of a baguette. It wasn’t too sweet, either. In fact, it was…delicious? Better than any dessert he’s had before. Maybe everything he’d tried before this was just a crude imitation, a poor excuse for the craft of baking. 

Perhaps he did like sweets or even dessert right before bed. Maybe he didn’t even mind that he wouldn’t be getting his full 8 hours of sleep. If he concentrated hard enough, her faint humming as she got ready for bed filled the silence of his apartment. He could stay up even longer if at all possible.

When he finally closed his eyes, a rush of different kinds of thoughts flooded his mind. 

Some were more mundane: Maybe I’ll have a beignet for breakfast or It’s probably going to rain tomorrow. 

Some were imaginations: plump glossy lips curved in an oversweet smile meant solely for him. His fingers gently tucking that bothersome tendril of hair behind her ear. 

He finally drifted to sleep with one last thought just as simple as the others, a tiny hope that she would forget her umbrella again.

*A/N: Tiana’s words sound like a literal translation/unnatural because she’s a non-native speaker ex. “you saved my life” vs a more natural/colloquial “you’re a lifesaver”

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

[klbwriting]

Finally Home - Jason Todd Blurbs

Coming Home in the Morning

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!reader

Summary: Jason comes home from patrol to you and hopefully breakfast

Note: ya, I'm obsessed with domestic!Jason Todd ideas. They just seem so cute and as much as I love moody Jason and smut Jason I also just love boring boyfriend/fiancé/husband/best friend Jason. I'm going to write these blurbs all under the name Finally Home and just post them when I feel the urge arise. If anyone has any ideas send them my way and I'll throw them in!

               Last night’s patrol had been exhausting and Jason couldn’t wait to get home to you.  He just finished leaving a nicely wrapped package of carjackers in front of the GCPD and was on his way home, noticing the sun was starting to peek over the buildings of downtown Gotham.  That meant that the coffee place you loved but was always too busy when you were going to work was open.  He ducked into a nearby safehouse, stowing this set of gear there and headed towards the shop.  He was able to score some very fresh lattes for the two of you and even grabbed a book you had been looking for at the little free library out in front of the shop. 

               By the time he got back to your shared apartment the sun was starting to warm the streets outside and you were barely awake, just coming into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker.  Then you saw him carrying the coffees and the book and you smiled big, clapping a little, instantly peppier.  The sight of Jason coming home after a patrol was the best feeling in the world.  He was there, your protector, your lover, your best friend, not only that, but he was also carrying coffee from your favorite place.  What an angel.  King among boyfriends.

               “Morning gorgeous,” he said.  You blushed, knowing that your pajamas were still rumpled, and your hair still had a major case of bedhead, but you could see in his eyes that he thought you rivaled any model in a magazine, you were the beautiful person in the world to him. 

               “Morning yourself, its late for you getting in, got a little worried when you weren’t in bed with me,” you said, taking the coffee and taking a kiss from him.  He nodded and set the book down on the little table.  You set your coffee on the counter and went to start making some breakfast, get him something to eat after the long night. 

               “Ya, had to chase some car jackers, they tossed a mother and her newborn from the car,” he said, arms wrapping around your waist as you started making an omelet with the veggies that he had cut up previously for fajitas.  You made a face and he nodded, head against your shoulder.  “Disgusting, but they’re at GCPD and I only had to break one arm to do it.”

               “You broke your arm?” you asked, suddenly panicking.  He chuckled, holding you in place so you didn’t accidently throw an egg on the ground. 

               “No, I broke them obviously, no one touches me.  Gotta keep myself perfect to compete with how gorgeous you are,” he said, lips dancing gently on your neck.  You smiled and laughed, pulling away a little.

               “I’m going to burn your eggs if you keep that up,” you said.  He dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

               “If I wasn’t so tired I would tell you to let them burn and I could taste you instead, but, I need a shower and then sleep,” he said.  You nodded and smiled at him as he let you go, stealing one more kissing as he headed down the hall.            

               “Jason?” you called.  His head popped back in, and you smiled at him.  “Keep that thought for later, you know I could go for a taste of you too.”  He smirked and nodded, blowing you a final kiss as he headed for the shower.

[lostfirefly]

Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours

One of my favorite moments of the 3d episode in OPLA, the moment with the knives. And I thought. Why not? English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: You throw knives together with Cabaji. Buggy joins you.

Words: 1665

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Admit it!”

“You're talking nonsense, Cabaji!” You were sitting in an awning on a keg sipping beer. “I don't care about him!”

“Really? I thought you like him.” Cabaji shrugged. “There was some harbor girl coming out of his quarters this morning, barely able to walk. I think you should stop this outrage already, Y/N. You must leave his cabin without being able to walk!” 

You choked. "Are you out of your mind? He's my captain, I'm not going to sleep with him!" You started to blush. 

“But why? You're an acrobat. I think he'll like it!” Cabaji laughed loudly.

You lost in your thoughts. You joined the Buggy Pirates a few months ago, and became an acrobat on his circus team. To be honest, running off with Captain Clown seemed like a good idea. Your family didn't understand your fascination with the circus and tried to force you to learn a boring profession. You were drawn to the magic of the circus all your life. You liked the smell of candy popcorn. You loved hearing the laughter and applause of the audience. What you didn't like was that after a few months you realized you had feelings for the captain. No, no! A grown man who paints himself as a clown. But the more often you saw him, the more you realized that the sight of him gave you a light electric shock. You tried to avoid making eye contact with him or standing next to him. Every time your captain passed by, touched you, you blushed, and it seemed to you that the whole team already knew about your feelings.

“Okay. Let's take another round!” You sipped your beer, spun off the keg, and picked up your knives. “I'll beat you this time.” 

“You haven't been able to beat me since day one on the ship, Y/N!” Cabaji laughed.

“Go to hell! I can do it!” You took the knife firmly in your hand and hurled it at the board.

“Ha! You missed! Loser!” Cabaji sipped his beer, walked over to you, patted you on the shoulder, and threw the knife. “See! Right on target! Who is the winner? Cabaji is the winner!” He pointed at himself with his index fingers.

“You must have thrown a knife at someone the first thing you did as soon as you were born, otherwise I don't understand where such marksmanship comes from!” You waved your hands and shrieked loudly. “Oh, I know! I need a target! We had cabbage for Richie here. Go get it!”

Cabaji shrugged his shoulders and quickly ran off to get the cabbage and went back inside. “Now what am I supposed to do with these sprouts!” He asked in surprise.

“Fix it on a board. I'll imagine it's our Captain Buggy's head, and I'll throw knives at him!” You twirled the knife in your hands with a proud look. 

“I told you like him!” Cabaji succeeded and nailed a cabbage sprout to the board.

“He's my…I don’t li..” You swung the knife. “....ke him! Yes! I hit it!”

“The sprouts take up half the board, of course you hit it!” He gave you another knife.

“Oh, Y/N, you like him!” You started imitating Cabaji's voice. “I don't love him! Captain pisses me off! He an...” You took aim and threw another knife. “...noys me!” Another knife. “Walks around his ship like he's king of the world. The fucking king who is always whining!” 

“Uh... Y/N!” Cabaji cleared his throat. 

“Oh, my beer's too cold. Y/N, get me a new bottle from the fridge!” You threw another knife with anger. “Get it yourself! You can detach your fucking arm and send it to the fridge!” 

“Y/N!” Cabaji tried to get your attention.

“Ooh, my omelet is too cold. Y/N, heat it up!” You picked up another knife from the ground and threw it at the cabbage. “I wasn't hired to be your fucking cook, asshole!”

“Y/N!!!!” Cabaji shouted. “Hush!”

“What?” You snapped back. “What's he going to do to me? He's just a fucking cabbage on the board. What do you think? I bet if he was standing behind me right now, he'd start whining about something.” You noticed Cabaji's gaze looking somewhere behind your shoulder. “He's standing behind me now, isn't he?” 

He slowly nodded.

You blushed and turned around. “Good evening, Captain!” You slowly looked up. Seeing first his boots, then his clothes, then his red lips, red nose, green eyes, and blue hair. “And we are... We…”

Buggy crossed his arms and stared at you intently. “Having fun, huh?” He shifted his gaze to Cabaji. 

“Yeah, relaxing after the show. Throwing knives and talking.” You said quietly. 

"I noticed." He said rather dryly and took off his coat.

The first thing you saw were pumped up arms, and you got a little out of breath.

“May I join you?” Buggy walked over to Cabaji who was pulling knives out of a cabbage and took one. 

“Sure!” You started to blush and looked away from him.

“Do we have any bets?” Buggy asked, rubbing the hilt with his hand. 

“No. Just for fun. Not playing for anything.” You tried to sound calm.

“No interest in playing for anything. I suggest a case of beer.” Buggy threw the knife, and it hit right in the middle of the sprout. “Looks like one point behind me, huh? Cheesecake, your turn!” He smiled slightly and held the knife out to you. 

You gently took the edge of the handle, trying not to touch Buggy's hand, and stood in front of the target. You began to swing.

“No, no. My cheesecake, you're holding the knife wrong.” Buggy came up behind you, putting one hand on your wrist. “Take it a little to the right.” He gently moved your hand in the right direction. Your heart began to pound faster. 

Buggy brought his face close to your ear and said quietly, “Now throw it!”

You gulped and threw the knife at the cabbage.

“See! Almost hit it!” Buggy adjusted his white glove, sipped from your bottle, and turned back to you. “Let's do it again!” He handed you the knife and stood behind you again. “Take your hand back.” Buggy put his hand on your wrist and lightly touched your waist with the fingers of the other. “And throw!”

You froze for a second, feeling the warmth of his hand on your waist.

“Cheesecake? Throw it!” He ran his hand lightly over your side.

“Oh yeah, I'm throwing it!” You threw the knife at the target but missed s little. 

“That's better already! Cabaji, your turn!” Buggy sat down on the keg and sipped your beer again. 

Cabaji shrugged, picked up a knife from the ground, threw it and hit the target. 

“Good for you! Now it's my turn! Watch how the real masters throw knives!” Buggy mewled, picked up a knife from the cabbage, stood close to you, and threw it towards the board. 

You tried your best to hide your admiration and refused to admit that this whole situation was turning you on a bit.

“Cheesecake! Your turn!” Buggy nodded his head at you. Cabaji wanted to walk over to you to help steady your hand, but the captain tsked at him. Buggy walked over to you and took your hand again, with his other hand he had already hugged you tighter and pulled you closer to his chest. Goosebumps ran through your body. You felt like you could feel every beat of his heart through your vertebrae.

“Aim more precisely.” Buggy looked at you over your shoulder. You cast a glance with the edge of your eye and immediately averted your eyes. He literally drilled you with his gaze, and began stroking his hand down your back. 

“Jesus!” It went through your head.

You took a deep breath, covered your eyes and threw the knife.

“Ha! You got it!” Buggy clapped his hands together happily.  "Hey, is someone keeping score?" He asked, looking back at Cabaji.

“No, captain.” Cabaji shrugged.

“Okay, we’re gentlemen! Let's let the cheesecake win, right?” Buggy picked up the knife from the ground, stood behind you, and pressed closer. “Go ahead yourself, Y/N.” He placed both hands on your waist and pulled you closer.

You didn’t quite understand how to throw a knife in such a position when all you could think about was how close he was standing.

Buggy started stroking your waist, and you didn’t notice how you twitched slightly.

“What's happened?” Buggy asked as he looked at you, placing one hand on your hip.

“Nothing. I'm afraid I'll lose your beer. Captain!” You giggled idiotically, trying to hide your increasing breathing in every possible way. You exhaled, tried to straighten your shoulders and snuggled closer. You pulled your hand back and glanced at Buggy, who didn’t seem to notice that he had already lowered his second hand to your thigh.

You narrowed your eyes and dropped the knife.

"You won, little cheesecake!" Buggy smiled widely and moved his hands to your waist.

“But we didn’t even keep score!” You carefully placed your palms on his.

"I'm the captain here. I said you won, that means you won!" Buggy rested his chin on the top of your head. "Okay. Time to go back to the ship. Let's go, cheesecake, I'll treat you to beer!" He abruptly removed his hands, grabbed his coat, winked at you and walked out.

“I’m telling you for sure, soon you will have difficulty leaving his cabin!” Cabaji collected the knives from the ground and from the cabbage, and grinned.

“I wish...” You whispered.

“What?” He asked again.

“Nothing. Let's go. He's probably waiting for us near the tent.”

In the morning, you really left Buggy's cabin. And judging by the faces of the crew, everyone heard you shout the captain's name loudly several times during the night.

[lord-amaranth-12]

(Almost) every food/drink etc. mentioned in obey me nightbringer and shall we date

Notes:

I'll update with links to the sources soon just bare with me. Also please tell if the link arent working

Update: ill stop linking stuff for now

Update: i alphabetized everything (using https://onlinetoolz.net/alphabetical-order) and removed the ingredients for potions cause i will be moving it to another list. I also edited the layout abit to make it more readable

Update: ill start linking stuff now, have to get all out of my storage and posted here before i get full storage again

A

• Abyss crimson bee honey

• Abyss crimson wasp honey

• Alla death cream

• Artic butterfly scales

• Ash fall chocolate brownies

• Assam

B

• Backstabbing sandwich

• Barely cooked black tapir steak

• Bat leaves

• Bavarian cream

• Bell peppers

• Black cloud chocolate gâteau

• Black coffee of melancholy

• Black shark flavored gummies

• Black tapir casserole

• Bloody marmalade

• Bloody rice omelets

• Bloody soda

• blood-red velvet cupcakes

• BLT devil sandwich

• Blue rose crystal pickles

• Blue rose petals candied in crystal syrup

• Bufo egg milk tea

• Bufo egg milk tea hell poison honey flavored

• Bufo toad

• Bufo toad sushi

• Bulbul bird eggs

• Butter pancakes

C

• Castella

• Cat cookies

• Colossal jumbo surprise parfait

• Comfort candy

• Crazy ghoul hamburger

• Crimson bonito flake

• Crimson bonito flake dressing

• Crimson dogwood

• Crimson tea

• Crispy chicken nugget LXXXIII

• Crushed millefeuille

D

• Dark star fruit sandwich

• Death maggot sauce

• Death mask bat chips

• Deaths door sauce

• Deep-fried devil zebra skewers

• Demi-glace sause

• Demon salmon

• Demonic Sausage

• demon silk moth-flavored gummies

• Demonkiller remora

• Demonkiller remora sauté

• Demonus-infused chocolate

• Demon-luring seaweed salt kalbi chips

• Devil cabbage

• Devil cacao bean

• Devil canelé

• Devil chocolate

• Devil chocolate canelé

• Devil duck confit

• Devil flower fruit trifle

• Devil ham

• Devil lohas milk tea

• Devil moray sushi

• Devil salmon meunière sandwiches

• Devil salmon rolled sushi

• Devil salmon terrine

• Devil zebra bacon

• Devil zebra meat sushi

• Devilbee popcorn

• Devildom gummy Horror house flavored

• Devildom-style boneless pararucu

• Devildom-style vampire bat sandwich

• Devils soft serve

• Dragons mark pie crust

• Dreamfeather cookies

• Dreamfeather meringue cookies

• Dried bufo egg

E

• Earl grey cookies

• Eternal night herbal tea

F

• Family pack sushi

• Fish meunière

• flaming hot mushrooms

• Flaming toad

• Fluffy egg pancakes

• Fluorescent rich yogurt

• fried devil chicken

• Fruit of wisdom jelly

G

• Galaxy burger

• Galaxy fries

• Garlic anchovy dip

• Giant shadow sea cucumber cream pasta

• Glazed Shadow chestnut

• gold demonus

• Gold hellfire newt syrup

• grilled vampire bat

H

• Hamburger gummies

• Hamburger stake

• Hamburger steak

• Haunted hamburgers

• Havoc devil

• Havoc devil ribs

• Hawthorn berry powder

• Hell demon salmon

• Hell pudding

• Hell velvet parfait

• Hellfire chocolate pie

• hellfire curry rice

• Hellfire mushroom rooled cigar

• Hellfire mushrooms

• Hellfire rose

• Hells kitchen hamburger combo

• Heros herbal tea

• Horror's horror cheesecake

• Hunter sandwich

I

• Instant noodles (hell-sauce flavor)

J

• Juicy shadow hog rice bowl

K

• King-sized fried devil chicken

• King-sized hellfire curry rice

• King-sized poison bleu cheese hamburger

• King-sized shadow hog ramen

L

• Laughingshroom powder

• Little devils white sauce

M

• Madam scream's super sweet scones

• Magma butter

• Magma butter pasta

• Magma butter scone

• Mandragora powder

• Marinated bufo toad

• Melted cheese

• Mimic latte

• Mint chocolate chip

• Mont blanc

N

• Nightshade cream

O

• Ocean of cloud cake-parfait

• Ocean of Clouds cake

• Ordeal orange fondae

P

• paradise blue

• Pasta alla death cream

• Pickled vampire bat

• poison bleu cheese hamburger

• Poison strawberry

• Poison veggie juice box

• Poison viper worm al ajiilo

• Poison worm sauce

• Poisonous cheese burgers

• Poisonous cheesecake

• Poisonous marsh pudding

• Princess poison apple

• Promised glory donut (?)

• Purgatory mustard

Q

• Quattro Hungry Pizza

• Quetzalcoatl brains

• Quetzalcoatl brains soup

R

• Rainbow paw print chocolate

• Red riding hood sandwich

• RedxRed apple pie

• Region exclusive Devildom gummy

• RIP burger

• Ruby chocolate éclair

S

• Sabbat salad

• Salted hell rose petals

• Salt-grilled black goat bat

• Scorpion syrup

• Shadow caramel

• Shadow chestnut

• Shadow chestnut paste

• Shadow chocolate

• Shadow chocolate brownies

• Shadow hof stir fry in demi-glance sauce

• Shadow hog

• Shadow hog buns

• Shadow hog dumplings

• shadow hog ramen

• Shadow hog soup

• Shadow hog steamed bun

• Shadow hog stir fry

• Shadow pork ragu pasta

• Shadow tuna sashimi

• Silver birch sap

• Simeons special BLT devil sandwiches

• Siren bench caviar

• Smoked cocktraice glizzard

• Smoky black loco moco

• Spicy rainbow pizza

• spiderweb powder

• Sponge cake

• Stardust soda

• Starry-sky waffle

• Stonefish Meunière

• Strawberry shortcake

• Super-sized limited-edition beef

• Sweet and salty canned kraken assortment

• Sweet milk tea

• Sweet tears donut

T

• thick-cut giant devildom slug sauté

• Thunder sparkle flavored gummies

• Toe bean stamp salad

• Troll coffee

U

• Ultra D

• Unhappy Mega Combo

V

• Vampire bat

• Venti brashberry frappuccino with double whipped cream and extra berry powder

W

• Whole roast shadow hog

• Wicked cupcake

X

Y

Z

Not in devildom

A

B

C

• Camping meal (Witch camp)

• Cursed goat cheese tartar sandwich (TSL)

D

E

• Ema datshi (human world)

F

G

• Ginger ale (human world)

H

• Hamburger (mama's cooking) (levis animes)

• Herbal tea (celestial realm)

• Huckleberry (human world)

• Hyper chili dog (human world)

I

J

• Japanese giant salamander (human world)

K

L

M

• Mapo tofu (human world)

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

• Tornado tomato (human world)

U

V

W

• White mochi balls in syrup (march comes in like a Panda)

X

Y

Z

Unnamed

A

B

• Barbatos's homemade cake

• Barbatos's homemade pudding

C

• Celestial tea

D

• Demon lords castle edition premium demonus

• Demonus with scorpion syrup and spiderweb powder

• Devilcats favorite food

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

• Leviathans homemade granola

• Lobster

M

• marshmallow

• Moryo Town's special demonus

• multi colored Jelly

N

O

P

• Popcorn Deaths door flavored

• Popcorn lava salt flavored

• Popcorn magma butter flavored

• Popcorn Tree sap caramel flavored

• Pudding from devilmart

Q

R

• Ramen infernal bahamit flavor

• Rare flower used in baking as a sweetener

• Really big chocolate bar

• Really big chocolate coin

S

• Salad from Sound Off, Symphony! Summer band camp storyline

• Sheep cake

• Star-shaped chocolate

• Sun and moon cookies by simeon

T

I

V

W

X

Y

Z

Characters

• "Little cake thingies"

???

• Chocolate mold

• Devildom miso

• Egg berry whole mil

• Marinated bufo toad

• Marzipan

• Meunièr

• Newt

• Surströmming

[canonsinthehead]

A Naruto Headcanon - The Culinary History of the Ninja World.

i'm back and not so bare with me. this headcanons is related to a story telling how chouji and karui's marriage went down. ill post it eventually.

EACH COUNTRY’S CULINARY HISTORY

Konohagakure (Country of Fire) Konohagakure aka the land of the free. Many things make up the uniqueness of the cuisine of the country of fire. First, they are the king of importation, so their diet is really diverse and touched all sectors evenly. They grow all kind of vegetables to meet the need of its residents. While there are not has much native plants from the area in their current diet contrary to other villages like Suna and Kiri.

Konoha being built on a vast forest, their main fruit consumption comes from small fruit trees and fruit trees like apples, pears, and pomegranate. Anything that grows on a tree is often easily available since it takes its roots in Konoha’s founder Hashirama Senju.

The country are the main producer and consumer of eggs and meat especially pork (which they export all over the ninja world) this where you get the whole BBQ concept and omelets. Another downfall of the cuisine from Konoha is the heavy presence of processed goods in everyday cooking preparation. The current culture is far more removed from its traditional cooking methods. Referred to as the Senju Diet is almost getting lost and seen has a flower from the past. Many (often older individuals) resist the hard change that came trough time and tries to uphold the consumption of the way ninjas ate in the past.

Lotus Root is a staple of the Senju Diet

Even Naruto can testify to this and noticed how it hard for him maintain the same diet as when he was a child (aside eating ramen), the way fast foods chains have almost came out of nowhere and took over the market deeply concerns him (especially how its taking hold of this younger generation). The deliberate effort towards modernization and proving the country is the first in everything, can reach everything, can eat everything, can win against anyone basically walking like they are the goat of the ninja world has affected negatively old traditions in subtle ways and in other more obvious ways. Like how the Konoha can keep escape the threat of famine by stealing other nations resources.

At the same time, the combination of different culinary practice gave birth to various more dishes with various diverse ingredients and interesting like Takoyaki, okonomiyaki & dango

Like mentioned before, industrialization gave birth to many processed who are a staple in those dishes. products who are often only found in the country of fire like fish cakes & narutomaki. The land of fire is the soup & noodles master, it’s like their national food for being convenient and versatile with they make the infamous ramen but other dishes like stir-frys Yes, it a generous filling cuisine to overflow your stomach

Classic/Staple Konoha Meal=Shoyu Miso/Pork Ramen with Narutomaki, Apple Salad, Dango, Sushi, Takoyaki, pickled radish, Beef BBQ

Sunagakure (Country of Wind) The cuisine from Suna is unique. Not only emerging from a desertic land, but it was also able to survive the test of time and stay true to its original roots. Based on the high temperatures and sandy soil of the land of wind, the residents have access to interesting crops who cannot be found elsewhere in the ninja world. Suna is the homeland of dates, they are the main intake of sugar in its diet. They are used in countless recipes like sweet & pastries. they are used to sweetened teas since tea drinking is a big thing. Offering tea is a tradition when receiving guests and tea was used by nomads who made long trip in the desert in order to stay hydrated.

In Sunagakure, they go hard on sweets. Especially dates since the are the only producer of them. They have countless of pastries, candies and date-bases recipes because it was once use as a method of survival in the long windy season in the desert or to have the sugar necessary to be transformed in a energy source to endure long trip in the desert. They are a national pride since most nuts in the ninja world grows in the country of wind; almonds, pistachios, walnuts, etc. they also showcase delicate and unique culinary practices when it comes to pastries who set Suna apart from other nations. It is the only place to find citrus, olive & argan trees used to make oils mostly made for exportation & their lucrative citrus production industry.

Their eating style is different since it is not uncommon to eat with your hands. For a long time, families were large so the habit of having a large plate to share with many emerge from that condition

Due to frequent drought, the country of wind has specialized themselves in the production of survival crops like grains like millet, sorghum & wheat who are also a staple in the cuisine of Suna. they most of the time milled to make flour to produce various types of bread crepe and flat breads (also see as more convenient since they don’t require yeast to be cooked). Alongside that, the consumption of legumes like lentils and different kinds of beans is the main source of protein and prized as all around superfood. They are cooked in paste and stew often eaten with bread.

Staple/Classic Suna Meal=Large plate of various pastes/creamy sauces made of beans & lentils, grilled eggplant, hummus, flat bread, millet crepe, spinach, citrus tea,

Kirigakure (Country of Water) The main meal is Kiri is grilled fish.

Unfortunately, Kirigakure has the reputation of eating ANYTHING that swims, crawls, run or fly in the ocean. First and firmly base on their location and how the practice of fishing is part of so many residents lives.

Also, it comes from the lack of access to goods from importation of other nations. For very long time, Kiri and the surrounded regions were left on their own when a bad harvest happened, or if the climate hindered the quantity of fish collected. In those cases, the villager learned to make anything of every single thing they found (in the ocean). Due to their different economical system (mostly based on exchange of goods), it took a long time for Kiri to join the market of importation and exportation. Now they are the main exporter of seafood of various types and fish (a staple in their diet). The land of fire became the main consumers of seafood above the country of water itself. The never-ending high demand for sea product (including fish) has opened the door for illegal activity to create non-approved fish farms and illegal fishing. The country of wind is guilty, while having no access to water yet desiring sea products (which is recent because they try to follow after the country of fire and the whole globalization narrative).The Country of Fire being the biggest culprit due to their insatiable desire to reach all and taste all (even without permission).

Their known cultural theft has implication in the problem since a traditional dish named サメの目 (Same no Me written Samenome meaning Shark Eyes) which consist of thin layers of fish rolled and stuffed with black wild rice and bitter herbs (it is name like this since it resemble the pupils of sharks) was ‘’discovered’’ by ninja scientist from Konohagakure during early invasion of the country of water by various bigger nations for natural resources in this case being clay who was abundant along any body of water (used to make pots and tolls before the emergence of various metals) also to take control and harvest the almost infinite amount of fresh water. The devastation of natural habitat and the disruption of the ecosystem cause a destruction that couldn’t be healed instead it changed the nature of the environment. Since then, most bodies of water in the land of water turned into seawater, the once flourishing pastures of green leafy galore died and the remaining surviving plants gave birth to what we know today as bitter herbs (ex: dandelion, wormwood, chamomille, peppermint, etc) and they are a staeple in the cuisine of Kiri, for some their main intake of green plants. They are also valued for their medicinal values (you know them plants Haku was collecting in the woods)

Learn more about bitter herbs here: https://dirthappy.com/bitter-herbs/

(Going back to what we were talking about)The discovery of Samenome was then taken back to the country of fire and after being merged and modified with the local crops and different culinary practices became what we know today as sushi; the captain of Konoha’s cuisine along side with Ramen. The seaweed paper also originally comes from Kiri, they were not used as food but fertilizers for growing crops. The practice of harvesting seaweed became popular in the southern part of the country of fire after the nori seaweed was discovered in its waters. Meanwhile they still import wakame from the country of water since it’s a staple for various soups and side dishes.

In The Country of Water, they consumed more the wild varieties of different crops like wild black rice, quinoa & amaranth as a main source of carbs.

In Kiri, they seasoned everything with pepper, everything; rice, bitter herbs, fish & seafood, grains. Some regions of the country of water house the spiciest pepper you can find in the warm months of the summer and the most frost resistant cabbages during the cold months. Now, they import a lot of pepper product from The country of lightning during the most of the year. Most of the seasoning is onion-based but the access to salt from the waters allowed the spectrum of seasoning to widen but also utilize is in order to ferment or pickle foods for the winter making pickled goods a staple in the cuisine of Kiri even for pickled fish.

Staple/Classic Kiri meal= Grilled fish, Samenome, spicy pickled cabbage, amaranth crepe of fritters, bitter herbs, pepper sauce

Kumogakure (Country of Lightning) The cuisine of Kumogakure is different than typical meals you would find in other nations. Like Suna the uniqueness reveals itself in their cuisine since its most popular dishes are made of ingredients that can only be found in the country of lightning. Cuisine of Kumogakure follows various principals making their reputation.

Beef is a luxury food. Due to its location, residents of the country of lightning were consuming other animals like sheep and goat who are abundant in rocky areas. The first wild buffalos were in fact imported from neighbor countries and are domesticated for food in small quantities because most green pasture (outside of main cities) are already occupied by sheeps. Many attempts were made to grow the bovine population but failed due to competition for food and access to grass.

Meat is more regarded as side dishes since their protein source mostly come from green vegetable and beans. Like in Suna, where legumes are praised for their high nutritional value but in the country of wind they eat lentils & chickpeas, meanwhile in Kumo they are eating kidney beans, black eyes peas and their infamous black beans. Each nation has a particular legume/bean/pulse they cherish in their cuisine. The Country of fire is house to all types of sprouts like of mung bean and edamame/soy beans. Interestingly, the practice of making tofu comes from Amegakure and has spread to neighboring nations. In Kiri, they eat beans in their original form, simple steamed and sometimes raw so they prefer yardlong beans and peas of different kinds.

· The land of lightning is famous for their abundance of herbs & spice. Hence why they weren’t as enthusiast to rush into meat consumption since they can make many vegetables taste amazing by seasoning it right. Plants like ginger, turmeric, various varieties of peppers, allspice, paprika, star anise & parsley are native to the area. the exception is garlic since it can be found abundantly across the ninja world.

· The cuisine of Kumo could be defined as quick and simple. Hence why they are numerous meals in bites sizes like fried dough (a popular street food), samoussa, meat/bean patties, dried sweet potatoes chips (chouji’s favorite). Unfortunately, frying/pan-frying is a prominent method of cooking so to balance the diet the preparation of vegetables filled stews and soups comes in the picture and they don’t eat foods like white rice. First, because it does not grow in the region at all, instead it’s the rare place where eating brown rice is thing and meals like fermented pureed yam are often use as a substitute for rice along many sauces and stews (after white rice became popular across the ninja world.). In Suna, they sticked to basmati rice and Kiri to black rice but white rice & sweet rice (hybridized in the country of fire) has always been one of the first food to be distributed is smaller nations in food crisis and for daily consumption because of how easily it is to massively produce and for their poorer nutritional value.

(ex: meat/beans patties, sweet potatoes chips, deep fried dough (bottom pic above) called ふわふわ/Fuwa Fuwa meaning Fluffy since the yeast used to make them creates a treat light and airy/fluffy like clouds & samoussa)

· SAUCE, SAUCE, SAUCE. Again, we said people from the Cloud love when it’s simple (hence why many dishes from Konoha like Takoyaki seems like an equation of calculus to them but those who could taste it enjoyed it actually). Its ‘’we dump all in the pot and let it cook’’ cooking style. If your meal doesn’t have a sauce of any kind, its not from Kumo. Many of them contained some form of peanut butter (a national pride food). The country of lightning is the biggest producer of peanuts and use it in various dishes

(exemples: peanut soup, fermented cassava pulp, cassava leave sauce, callaloo/amaranth soup, spinach peanut butter sauce )

· Did you know that Kumo’s peanut brittle’s distant cousin is the Nougat from Suna? It’s the Raikage’s favorite snack. Like the menu of the wedding feature the country most prized, popular, and fancy meals, most of them are the raikage’s favorites.

(from left to right, Nougat (from Suna) & Peanut Brittle also called 稲妻バー/Inazuma bars meaning Lightning Bars) because when you prepare them it is tradition to punch the plate in the middle to break it into smaller portions, it looks like the food got hit by lightning.

Many exotic tropical grows outside of big cities like mangos, pineapples & papayas making fruit the main sugar intake in the Kumo diet.

[undead-moth]

hi I loved your last post ! :) could you make a similar post about why you think Sydney is good for Carmy? I like your takes

Hi. Thanks for asking. Took me a while to respond because I had to think.

1. The single most important thing that I think makes Syd good for Carmy is that Sydney is the embodiment of what Carmy needs to be. Sydney is passionate about cooking, but it goes even beyond that. She enjoys cooking. She enjoys the culture of these prestigious restaurants. She thinks Carmy's chef jacket is cool, she's enamored by where he's trained and worked. All of it means so much to her. She's curious, she's excited, she's inspired - everything Carmy has lost sight of, and maybe never truly had to the extent that Syd does. Carmy in part became a chef to compete with Michael, to show Michael up, to be the best at Michael's thing. This means that this chef world was kind of tainted for Carmy from the very beginning, but then on top of that, he went through hell in the process of becoming the chef he is today.

It's obvious from flashbacks, especially this season, that there was at least a period of time where Carmy had the passion, the curiosity, the inspiration Syd has, but for Carmy it has never been innate. He is just someone who happens to be a gifted chef - it's not necessarily his calling the way it's clearly Syd's calling, and in order for him to run his restaurant, and I think in order for him to feel truly fulfilled, it's going to have to become that. Syd will help guide the way.

It's also worth noting that Sydney actually is doing it to nurture people, which is one of the narrative lessons Carmy misses this season. Nonetheless, it's made clear to us that nurturing others is what being a chef is about, and that's clearly what it's about for Sydney. We see this in the episode Omelet, when she cooks for Sugar.

Also, I would say that Sydney hasn't bought into the more toxic aspects of this culture. She isn't, for example, a food snob. She tells Carmy about this roast (I think it was a roast?) she was making for her last client as a caterer, and how this specific client wanted fresh pasta but it didn't work - so she put the roast over King's Hawaiian buns. She also sprinkles Sugar's omelet with Lays potato chips. However high-end she hopes for this restaurant to be, she doesn't specifically worship its high-endness. Carmy on the other hand, in season 3, is over and over scolded for having bought only the most expensive of things. The most expensive butter, the most expensive dishes, the most expensive pans - which, granted, he's trying to get a star, trying to make sure the restaurant actually is high-end, but it nonetheless demonstrates that he's sort of bought into this aspect of the culture, undoubtedly because of the head chef who abused him in New York.

Sydney, I think, challenges certain aspects of the culture for Carmy, the very aspects that have made him the most jaded over the culture. When Sydney brings up the Hawaiian buns or potato chips, Carmy readily says that it sounds good, but based on the note of surprise in his tone, I think it's also not something he would have willingly done himself. I think that's kind of inspiring, for Carmy. He says to Sydney first, "You make me better at this," and it's very true. While I think he makes Sydney a better chef on a physical level, teaching her expertise she hasn't acquired or mastered, she makes him a better chef on a spiritual level.

2. Sydney is also Carmy's rock. The most damning evidence of this is when he's having a panic attack and only once he thinks of her does he calm down. But I think she's consistently his rock throughout the show.

In season 2, Carmy has the, "I don't want to be shitty," conversation with Syd, in which she says, "Don't be shitty then." They laugh, because that's easier said than done, but I kind of think Carmy needs logic like that in his life. He has a tendency to overthink, to make things harder than they need to be, and I think Sydney has this very rational and mellow approach that can give Carmy moments of, "Oh - it's only as hard as I make it." I know in season three, there's a similar moment between him and Syd (I can't remember exactly what he says) and Syd doesn't say anything, but I think that situation is a little different, because in the first situation, it's not things with Sydney he's fucking up, and in the second, it is. I think Sydney has a hard time telling Carmy how she feels, but I also think she was feeling like she shouldn't have to be the one comforting him in that situation, and that's fair. My point is, it wasn't because she wouldn't have been able to provide the same level-headed reassurance if that had been appropriate at that time.

I think Carmy can rely on Syd to keep her head on her shoulders at times when Carmy definitely can't. She was the person holding the restaurant together in season 3, more than anyone else. When Carmy gets out of being locked in the freezer, it's Syd who tells him he needs to apologize to Richie, while the others bring up Claire. But Syd understands that between Richie and Claire, Richie is more important for Carmy to make up with. It's not about who Carmy wronged worse, it's about who matters more to him. Richie has always been in his life, he's like a brother to Carmy, whereas Claire is a girlfriend of a few weeks. Sydney understands this innately, and keeps Carmy on track, focused on what matters most.

3. Sydney never gives up on Carmy, but still holds him accountable. I think this is one important way that Sydney differs from Claire. Carmy and Claire never had any problems once they established that they were a thing - but the first time Claire bears witness to how Carmy's trauma affects him, it's over. I know that's not all on Claire, but the point is, I don't think they would have ever lasted, because Claire can't do the same balancing act that Sydney does.

Throughout the show, Sydney and Carmy get into minor arguments, and they talk through them, apologize to each other, explain their feelings. Carmy blows Sydney off once and it's not something that means the end of their partnership. In the first season, Sydney leaves The Bear because of Carmy's behavior - but when she receives a genuine apology, she gives him another chance. This season Carmy fucked up over and over - and while I've already said a couple of times now that I don't think his fuckups were unforgiveable, nor exceptionally awful, no one would blame Sydney if she left, and she hasn't yet. She might in the future, but if she does, it will only be after giving Carmy many chances, and a long time to change his behavior - and once again, I don't think it will be irreparable even if she does leave. I don't think Carmy will feel like it's impossible to even face Sydney again, like he does with Claire. Sydney has what it takes to weather Carmy's storms.

4. This last one is kind of the inverse of "Carmy knows how to apologize," and that's, "Sydney holds Carmy accountable." I've mentioned before that I think part of the problem with Carmy and Claire's relationship was that it was unbalanced. Claire never had her own needs, her own problems, her own flaws, her own fuckups, her own anything else that Carmy was expected to pay attention to and take into consideration. They never fought, but that was mainly because Claire was agreeable. Healthy relationships don't really work like this.

Sydney, on the other hand, has always demanded Carmy's respect. This season, she struggled to communicate with Carmy, in part because of how Carmy was behaving, but as I said before, I don't think it was entirely about an inability to talk to him. I think it was in part her understanding that some things weren't her responsibility, or that Carmy was doing things he should know better than to do. She was waiting for her apology, which I think is another way she makes it clear she expects to be respected. Previously, when she and Carmy were less tense, she was able to communicate her needs. She tells Carmy that she needs to be called before they decide to destroy walls, and later in the season she expresses her frustration with the idea that Claire may have contributed to their menu. Granted, I think part of the point of both of these interactions is that Syd isn't entirely in the right, but either way, she tells Carmy how she feels, and what she expects him to do about it, and what she expects is not unreasonable.

She also doesn't let Carmy blame anybody else for something he did. Toward the end of season 2, there's a scene where Carmy is yelling at the kitchen staff because there were pans placed on the left shelf, and they should be on the right, because everyone is right-handed. Sydney immediately points out to Carmy that the reason they're on the left is because of something he made happen (I can't remember what it was, but basically, it was Carmy's fault).

She also doesn't let him apologize for things that aren't his fault. He tries to apologize to her for not knowing that her mom died, and Sydney tells him right away that it isn't his fault. A couple of times when they're talking through some spat they got into, she says something to the affect that it wasn't his fault, or all his fault. She's very balancing in this way. Carmy can't shrug off his own mistakes on to others, but he also can't wallow in guilt over things that aren't his fault. Because of Carmy's trauma, he isn't really capable of taking an honest look at himself, and he can oscillate wildly in either the direction of self-hate or self-righteousness - but Syd centers him, and humbles him, and that's healthy for him even if it's something that is also difficult.

So, these are my thoughts! I really do think they're very good for each other, without being so perfect for each other that it feels like it couldn't ever happen in real life. I really admire how realistically flawed they both are, and how with each their flaws aren't arbitrary or without reason. Some of the most well-written characters I've ever seen, and I think SydCarmy has the potential to be one the best romances I've ever seen too. Anyway, thanks again for asking!

[heartfullofleeches]

Downside??? I can’t wait to be launched like a cannonball!!

"Gotcha covered-"

Scooping you onto her arm like a sack of rice, King arranges a small fort out of pillows and couch cushions all while dangling you over her shoulder. She places a rough kiss to your skull before slapping her helmet on your head and hooking its straps beneath your chin. You line your sight with the helemet's cage as she bounces you in the air a few times - leaning your weight all on her left side.

"Cannonball!"

King lifts you high - the twisting horns of her helmet scrapping the ceiling as she hurls you like a pitcher on the final inning at the wall of pillows. Your body crashes into the landing pad at such velocity that the wind shoots straight out of you - but miraculously there was not a scratch or bone out of place on you. King races over as your soul rattles in its fleshy cage, picking you tenderly off the ground with a pillow on her bicep to support your head. Panic and concern flicker in her hollow eyes - large hand framing the side of your face.

"Shit, my bad... Got a little excited there. You feelin' okay?"

Head spinning, you hold a thumb up before completely collapsing in her arms. "Yea....."

The brief glimer of panic breaks with a huge grin from the devi. She lifts you back onto her shoulder, throwing your arm around her neck to keep you from falling off as she parades you out the door.

"Hell yeah! That's my fuckin partner! Let's go hit up the buffet. They'll have ice for any bumps you might've got - and the omelet station is open until four!"