#really nice of them to give us a schedule ahead of time this year… but man. next week huh
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it’s that time of year again~~~~~~~~
#please oh p l e a s e e e e e e no mona anime p l e a s e e e e e e e#idol sengen s2 yes pls but no mona anime p l e a s e e e e e e#would be funny if we got a kawaikute gomen anime though#i wonder if they’ll say something about the mona album during the stream since it’ll be coming out around that time too…#really nice of them to give us a schedule ahead of time this year… but man. next week huh#gotta backtrack an hour for each timeslot to see when i should tune in lol#ok that’s enough interwebs for one day bye guys
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Hiccup meeting reader who works in welding and is making him a new stirrup, and they have a conversation about riding and he offers to teach her. She’s scared of heights but would go to spend time with him 🙂↕️
It's strange, realizing you have a fear of heights well into adulthood, but to be fair you've never been presented with the offer of flying on the back of a dragon before, so you'd never really figured it out.
You'd stayed clear of Berk's cliffs in your youth but that was more anxiety than cold, solid fear. Your feet had stayed firmly away from the edge in case you'd fallen onto the unforgiving rocks below, but all of the village kids were taught not to get too close to the edge. Flying, being completely airborne on nothing but a creature that used to raze your village, is what makes you realize you have a fear of heights. What's even stranger is that your fellow blacksmith may be the biggest fan of flying in all of the Archipelago.
The dragons aren't the scary part- you've been used to them for years, and Toothless knows you from how often he accompanies Hiccup to the forge. There's no hesitation from you anymore before you reach out to scratch at the small scales around his snout, but when he rustles his great wings or throws them out to his sides you take an instinctive step backwards.
Hiccup tinkers with his metal foot almost weekly, but this stirrup is better fitted when he's seated in Toothless's saddle, and he can't work from that angle. And- even if you're the only logical choice, seeing as you're the other blacksmith on the island and you'd been occupying yourself by throwing pebbles into the flames from across the building, it's nice to know that Hiccup trusts you with something as important as his limb. You trust him too, and the unspoken agreement makes you feel special.
Right now you're crouched by his side, tongue pinched between your lips as you check the mechanism that locks Hiccup's foot into the stirrup of the saddle. It's important that it locks tightly, otherwise he could fall or be injured during flight, but he needs to be able to extract it at will, too.
It had loosened itself slightly, but it seems to work fine now, and when you give him the go-ahead, he unlocks his foot and finds himself free of the saddle without any pain or warped metal.
"Perfect," He gushes, almost laughing in relief as his eyes shine brightly. He clicks it in and out of place experimentally, "Y'know if you hadn't been here, I'd have folded myself in half trying to weld my own stirrup shut."
"You'd singe off your eyebrows," You snicker, your palm butting against his shoulder in a gentle, good-natured shove, "I don't mind helping- I've got nothing else to do today. But you can thank me by fixing the clasp of my bracelet later- it broke," You look down sadly at your bare wrist, "And I'm not as good at the small stuff as you are."
"I'll fix it," He assures you, settling further into the saddle atop Toothless's back, "But I was really gonna thank you by taking it for a spin- you wanna go flying?"
Your spine tenses as dread pools in your gut.
You're always able to dodge the question, feigning hunger or remembering suddenly that you'd forgotten to hang your washing out to dry. Now that you've just revealed your totally empty schedule for the day, you're not sure how to weasel your way out of flying without being obvious.
But it seems any effort is in vain. You should have known- maybe you could have placated Snotlout with a half-baked excuse, or told Ruffnut you were just feeling queasy and couldn't handle a zippleback flight, but Hiccup notices things the others don't, and he's always been that way. He picks up on the momentary shift of your face- a briefly furrowed brow, and sees the way your teeth dig into your lower lip with unease.
"Come to think of it," He speaks again, his voice quieter now, "I've never seen you fly before. I know you're not afraid of dragons," He concludes, "But... you're afraid to fly, aren't you?"
"I'm not afraid," You protest meekly, eyes downcast as you spend entirely too long meticulously replacing your tools, "I'm just- I don't know, it seems risky. Your leg is connected to the saddle but mine won't be. Even in stirrups, it'd be so easy for me to just fall, and there's no guarantee I'd be caught, and it just seems like a pretty quick way to die, if you ask me."
"You sound a little afraid." Hiccup teases tentatively, searching for a smile on your face, even briefly, "But that's okay. It is scary- I mean, at least the first time. But Toothless is a pro." He promises, patting the side of the dragon's scaly head, "And I'll be there too. That's just about as safe as you can get for your first flight. And if you want, we can just glide over the forest. Nothing too high, and not over the ocean. Just ten minutes?"
Ten minutes on the back of a dragon.
Hiccup holds out a hand, and you seem to have accidentally welded your feet to the ground, because they won't move.
"Come on," He smiles, gesturing encouragingly with his outstretched hand, "Do you trust me?"
You do trust him, you remember, as you squeeze your eyes shut and take his hand. You do trust him, and you let him tug you across the floor and maneuver you onto the back of his dragon all while you're staring at the backs of your eyelids- you do trust him, and for the next ten minutes, that will have to be enough.
#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup haddock imagine#hiccup haddock fanfiction#hiccup haddock smut#hiccup haddock fluff#hiccup haddock oneshot#hiccup haddock blurb#hiccup haddock drabble#hiccup haddock x you#hiccup x reader
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Do you have any general hc for Powder or Jinx? I’m curious about your ideas 🍒


general headcanons 4 jinx & pow ✧˚ ⋆。˚*ੈ𑁍༘⋆
notes: sfw, fluff, very little angst, little mentions of x f!reader, mentions of alcohol, not a v long list :,( srry
🌸 : ̗̀➛ powder
༯ she does math equations for fun because she’s a loonie. yes she’s teased for it even by ekko who’s equally a nerd but just hides it better. you think it’s incredibly hot how effortlessly smart she is
༯ she loves heading to the lake during summer and spending the day there basking in the sun’s warmth and cooling off in the calm waters
༯ she likes drawing on people to give them temporary tattoos (she has the decency to not draw a penis)
༯ she low-key loves her florals but enjoys adding a neon twist!! that goes for doodling, sewing, painting, pillow covers, etc
༯ she still can’t get the hang of cutting her own hair but she’s accepted it at this point. she lets you do it from time to time :>
༯ after vi passed away in the accident, mylo finally locked the fuck in and dropped the jackass act. it took some time because it had became habit, but soon the two including claggor grew much closer as family
༯ as grown ups mylo now actually really respects powder which is deserved
༯ powder i think studies something along the margins of mechanics at the academy. she’s there building things, wielding metal, using complex math and quantum physics to invent complicated machines/trinkets bigger and smaller. the girl is gettin them hands dirty in those classrooms
༯ possibly has a dorm there during the school year located on one of the middle floors, which she decorates similarly to her bedroom at home; neatly made purple bedsheets, random boxes and tools such as hammers and wrenches scattered about, a cluttered desk stained with ink and blemished with unknown scratches, posters of her favourite artists, drawings and sticky notes with doodles of you and her surrounded by hearts or other random illustrations
༯ despite the obvious busyness in her dorm, she still always manages to find the time to keep it clean and smelling nice. she never leaves food around to go bad, there’s minimal dust, she keeps the curtains drawn and windows open to let in the fresh air while a candle or incense burns
༯ yet somehow she’s terrible with plants
༯ powder lacks sleep sometimes not because she struggles to, but because she gets so hyper focused on her projects (both school and personal ones) and chasing that feeling of accomplishment, that she wants to get them finished as soon as possible. and that includes pulling an all nighter if she has to. she’s a healthy girl, and she puts the well-being of others on a high pedestal as well because she cares. but sometimes she un-admittedly forgets about herself and lets slide the consequences of her risky choices
༯ she has to be physically forced to bed. sometimes—especially if she’s high on her fourth cup of coffee—you gotta fight tooth and nail to tuck her into her bed and under the damn covers. other nights you’re lucky and she’s so exhausted that she allows herself to be dragged like a brainless zombie back to bed
༯ she’s an early bird! likes to get up at 8:00 or 9:00 am to brush her teeth, shower (she showers at night occasionally before bed), and get dressed to get a head start on her day
༯ she usually follows a schedule to plan her days ahead, especially if she knows that she’ll have a lot going on. it helps her feel organized and clear headed, so she has a calendar at home and a notebook that she takes with her every where to jot things down
༯ our sweet girl likes to doodle and skrapbook :3 because she’s a cute little artist. in fact, she shares one with her girlfriend (you), so you guys can document the story of your journeys together ^.^
༯ she collects wild flowers on her random trips outside to place them in vases in her room. she likes the smell and the look of them
༯ when you two are on walks she’ll stop to pick one and tuck it behind your ear and call you “princess pollen”. ‘cause get it? pollen? flowers have pollen? yeah
༯ she keeps polaroid photos taped on her walls above her bed, and a memory box full of them underneath her bed
༯ she really likes to collect and cherish small things. so the memory box under her bed is also filled with more obvious things like friendship bracelets, to lesser obvious things like an old cherry lipgloss (it was the lipgloss you were wearing when you two kissed for the first time)
༯ despite her quieter and more composed nature, i think she still likes to let loose once in a while to go to an upbeat concert and drink with friends
༯ that being said, she’s responsible with her alcohol but she doesn’t have a hard time getting crunk. she’s usually the one holding onto you or others to prevent them from tipping over, but she’s been on the other end a few times herself
༯ in fact one time she fell into a bunch of flower pots in front of a florist’s shop and got yelled at when they broke and the dirt spilled everywhere. she had to get lifted back onto her feet and you and other drunk friends had to pull her away while apologizing profusely
༯ to end powder’s section on a sadder note (sorry), she had a time in her life as a young teen where she struggled while questioning her sexuality. (even though I headcanon the planet arcane takes place on doesn’t have labels on sexuality, i do think some forms of homophobia could potentially exist)
༯ the worst part of it though was coming to the realization that she liked you, her best friend since childhood. and she feared so much that it would be ruined and she’d lose you if her feelings came to the surface and got revealed :,(
༯ but now you’re thriving and cute wonderful girlfriends, yippiee!! <3
🌸 : ̗̀➛ jinx
༯ she never learned her lesson and still tries to eat soap to find out if it tastes god
༯ never expect her to show up on time. she’s on her own schedule
༯ she’s scatterbrained most of the time. but can get very focused on her projects, and she locks in when she’s in combat in the blink of an eye
༯ i think sevika trained her how to fight while growing up, even if it wasn’t super often. because i believe jinx would’ve been a bit reluctant to allow her to teach her due to feeling weak in comparison
༯ building upon that, receiving help from people is something she avoids in general because again, it makes her feel weak and dependent which she relates with ‘powder’. it can even be something she does subconsciously without really noticing until someone points it out
༯ she’s definitely prone to getting hyper fixated. it could be about the smallest thing and could last for who knows how long. and then suddenly it’s gone like it was never on her mind
༯ has loved the stars since childhood! even though now she doesn’t really talk about them anymore. i think it has something to do with never having had the privilege of being able to see the sky clearly all that much while growing up. and to her, the stars look peaceful and quiet all the while emanating their own natural warm light during a prolonged time of chilled darkness
༯ she has a BIG fear of ending up alone. who woulda thought!
༯ she’s bad with small talk. absolutely hates it because she thinks it’s boring. wanna charm her or have a proper conversation with her? don’t start with that nonsense or else she’s throwing a smoke bomb at you for her own theatrics and jumping away laughing
༯ gives in to the intrusive thoughts. the ones that tell her to take a bite out of a block of butter or stick a finger in peanut butter
༯ struggles with sleep but when she does she sleeps like a bear in hibernation. if you pour a glass of water over her face all you’re getting is gurgles without an eye batted
༯ to add onto her sleeping habits, she suddenly turns into a professional contortionist in her sleep. she’s half off the bed, head having moved to the other end sometime halfway through the night, legs facing the opposite direction of her torso. she’s been found sleeping like this more than once. however once in a while she’ll sleep in a fetal position the whole night
༯ she also clings like a koala, her limbs stay wrapped around you in a protective vice grip for the majority of the night. yet it feels so comfortable every time. her body manages to make you feel warm and content while you fall asleep with a small smile and your face buried in her shirt
༯ you can always hear her approaching with those big ass boots she wears. but there will be odd times where you literally don’t hear her at all and she scares the soul out of you even without meaning to
༯ she’ll pat the top of your head as she walks passed you! tee-hee 🤭
༯ she blasts her music in her hideout all the time while working or doing the most mundane tasks. i think we all know this though
༯ lord knows where she gets it all, but her bed always has a messy pile of blankets and pillows on it yet it’s one of the most comfortable spots you’ll sit or lay on
༯ this might be a debatable one but i imagine she came across that giant fan room one day when she needed to clear her head and desperately find a place to hide by herself. it’s not located that anywhere near the last drop either
༯ somehow she still faces noice complaints despite being far away enough from other people and the public
༯ she likes to collect things like powder does, however the things she collects from you are posted up in her base like trophies. she likes her privacy, yes. but when it comes to you, she shows you off all the time. she relishes in being able to brag about it and laugh in the faces of jealous men who wish they can have you but they can’t. because you’re hers she she’s yours
༯ she low-key doesn’t know how to swim that well but she still manages somehow. she has no fear. if she can drink water she can float in water.
༯ she kinda likes the rain too. if you get caught in it or there’s nothing else you two are doing inside, she’ll drag you into an open area and dance with you
a/n: i always end up thinking of even more later </3 so ask me again whenever these are nice to think about !!
#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა sfw pow .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱#໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ sfw jinx .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱#powder#jinx#arcane jinx#jinx arcane#au powder arcane#powder arcane#arcane powder#arcane jinx headcanons#jinx headcanons#arcane powder headcanons#au powder headcanons#jinx x reader#jinx x female reader#jinx x fem!reader#au powder x reader#arcane powder x reader#powder x reader#powder x female reader#powder x fem!reader#arcane powder x female reader
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Hiii
So I saw your requests are open so if you don’t mind…
I’ve been obsessing over the fact that if Iceburg had a wife she’d technically be Water Seven’s First Lady??? (really stupid I know)
Can you please write a scenario where the f!reader meets the Strawhats once they arrive in town and she shows them around as if it’s nothing and then Iceburg shows up and goes on like “Yeah that’s my wife”? (Idk if I’m explaining well what I mean sorry😪)
Thank you if you do <3 have a nice day
Wife of the mayor
Iceberg x F! Reader
Words: 12,550
Warnings: use of y/n, violence/injury implied, uncannon, greif. 
A/N: Writing this was quite enjoyable, although it was also very nerve-wracking. It's been a long time since I've watched Water 7, and I don't remember much about Iceburg. AND EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED. I WAS SO CONFUSED WRITING THIS. However, I did my best! I apologize if this isn't exactly in line with canon or if my portrayal isn't quite accurate. (also it isn't stupid! I get it.)
Masterlist
═✬✩══╡˚✧✬✧˚╞══✩✬══
The salty tang of the sea breeze was a constant companion in Water 7, just like the gentle hum of activity that vibrated through every street and canal. For you, however, the day often began not with the clamor of the shipyards, but with the quiet rustle of sheets and the soft, steady breathing of the man beside you. Your mornings were a comfortable rhythm, a dance you and Iceburg had perfected over years of shared sunrises.
You’d often wake before him, the early light filtering through the window of your shared home, painting the room in hues of pale gold. Slipping out of bed, you’d start your own quiet preparations. Perhaps you'd tend to the small garden on the balcony, its vibrant colors a stark contrast to the industrial backdrop of the city. Or maybe you'd prepare a simple breakfast, the aroma of fresh bread and brewing tea filling the air.
Eventually, you'd hear the tell-tale creak of the bed as Iceburg stirred. He’d often emerge from the bedroom, still a little rumpled, a soft smile gracing his lips as his eyes found you. "Morning, my dear," he’d murmur, his voice a low rumble that always sent a familiar warmth through you. He’d cross the room, and without fail, his hand would reach for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that spoke volumes about your unspoken connection. It was in these small, everyday moments, in the quiet intimacy of your shared life, that the true essence of your marriage to Water 7's enigmatic leader truly resided.
Iceburg would often linger at the breakfast table, sipping his tea and watching you move about the room, a contented silence settling between you. But eventually, the demands of his position would beckon. It was then that your role shifted from wife to silent, efficient aide, preparing the Mayor of Water 7 for the bustling day ahead.
He'd head to the master bathroom, and you'd follow, picking out his usual smart, professional attire—the crisp white shirt, the impeccably tailored vest, and of course, his signature cravat. Laying them out, you’d then turn your attention to his most distinctive feature: his hair.
His purple locks, normally so wild and free, were a testament to his vibrant personality. But for the sake of appearances, and his busy schedule, they needed taming. You'd stand behind him as he sat, a brush in your hand, gently working through the strands. He’d often lean back into your touch, a soft sigh escaping him as you carefully styled it, pinning it back with a practiced ease that came from years of repetition. It was a small ritual, one that spoke of the quiet intimacy you shared, a moment of calm before the storm of his mayoral duties. As you smoothed down the last unruly strand, he'd rise, turn, and give you a quick, grateful kiss on the forehead, ready to face the day and the city he governed.
Once breakfast was finished, and the last sip of tea was savored, your attention turned to the day ahead, specifically, to preparing the Mayor of Water 7 himself. Iceburg, for all his sharp intellect and commanding presence, had a charmingly absent-minded streak when it came to his own presentation. You’d often find him about to head out with a stray strand of his distinctive purple hair out of place, or a wrinkle in his usually impeccable suit.
"Alright, Mr. Mayor," you'd tease gently, a fond smile playing on your lips as you approached him. He’d chuckle, a low, rumbling sound that always resonated deep in your chest, and offer a relaxed sigh. He’d then settle into a chair, already anticipating your touch.
Your fingers, practiced and gentle, would deftly begin to smooth down his purple locks, coaxing them into their usual sleek, swept-back style. You knew exactly how to tame those unruly strands, a small intimacy that few others witnessed. While you worked, you'd often chat, reviewing his schedule for the day – the ship launchings, the meetings with Galley-La foremen, the city planning discussions. He’d listen, sometimes offering a brief, thoughtful hum, or a quick comment about a particularly challenging project.
It was a quiet ritual, a moment of shared calm before the bustling demands of Water 7 claimed him. You weren't just fixing his hair; you were setting the tone for his day, ensuring that the man who led this vibrant, ever-moving city stepped out looking every bit the capable and respected figure he was. Once his hair was perfect, you’d adjust his collar, brush an invisible speck from his shoulder, and then, with a final, reassuring pat, you'd send him on his way, ready to face the ebb and flow of Water 7.
The quiet of the morning was different today. It pressed against you, a noticeable absence where his warmth should have been. You stretched out a hand, fingers brushing against the cool, empty space beside you. He wasn't there. Not completely abnormal, of course; Iceburg was a busy man, his days often dictated by the unpredictable tides of Water 7's affairs. But he always left a note. A hastily scribbled message on the bedside table, a small drawing, something. Or, at the very least, he'd wake you, a gentle nudge and a whispered "I'll be back before you know it."
This morning, there was nothing. A slight furrow appeared between your brows. A quick glance around the room confirmed it. No note, no sign of his hurried departure. Just the lingering scent of his cologne, a ghost of his presence that only amplified his absence. A sliver of unease began to creep in, a subtle discord in the usually harmonious melody of your mornings. You rose from the bed, a little slower than usual, a question mark hanging in the air. Where had he gone, and why hadn't he said goodbye?
The question of Iceburg's whereabouts lingered as you moved through your morning routine. A soft, white sundress seemed fitting for the day, its gentle fabric whispering against your skin as you pulled it on. You topped it with a wide-brimmed hat, a practical elegance to shield you from the Water 7 sun, which was already beginning to climb in the sky. As you prepared, you couldn't shake the feeling of something being slightly off.
Emerging from your home, you carried yourself with a quiet grace, a polite demeanor that was as much a part of you as the air you breathed. The people of Water 7 knew you, knew you were the wife of their mayor, the First Lady of their bustling city. Yet, they treated you with the same warmth and respect they offered any other citizen. Smiles greeted you as you walked, nods of acknowledgment, and the occasional friendly greeting. You preferred it that way. The lack of fanfare, the normalcy, was a comforting balm.
You found yourself drawn to a vendor, the vibrant colors of fresh fruits a welcome sight. The air was filled with the sweet scent of oranges, the tartness of lemons, and the earthy aroma of ripe melons. A soft smile graced your lips as you surveyed the selection, the simple act of choosing fruit a small pleasure in the midst of the morning's slight unease. You chatted amiably with the vendor, a kind, older woman with a warm smile and knowing eyes. The conversation was light, about the weather, the quality of the produce, the usual rhythms of Water 7 life. But beneath the surface, a subtle hum of worry still vibrated within you. Where was Iceburg?
As you picked out a particularly plump satsuma, a sudden cacophony erupted from down the street. It was a familiar sound in Water 7 – a crashing, clanging symphony of metal, shouting voices, and the distinct thump-thump-thump of heavy footsteps. Most of the market-goers barely flinched, continuing their haggling or strolling with an air of practiced indifference. You, too, remained unfazed.
A small sigh escaped your lips, not of annoyance, but of resignation. "The Franky Family, I presume?" you murmured to the fruit vendor, who merely rolled her eyes with a fond exasperation.
"Who else, dearie?" she chuckled, reaching for a canvas bag to hold your purchases. "Making their usual mess, those lot. Wonder what poor bounty head they're after today."
You offered a soft smile in return. This was Water 7, after all. The boisterous, often destructive, antics of the Franky Family were as much a part of the city's daily rhythm as the lapping of the canals against the docks. Before Franky joined the Straw Hats, before the world truly knew of his unique brand of chaos, his family's rambunctious methods of bounty hunting were a constant, albeit loud, fixture. You paid for your fruit, the paper bag cool against your fingers, and turned to leave, the distant commotion already fading into the background of the city's myriad sounds. Despite the noise, a faint ripple of unease still persisted within you. The ruckus was normal, yes, but Iceburg's unexplained absence still was not.
You continued your stroll, the gentle sway of your sundress a counterpoint to the busy energy of the street. The distant sounds of the Franky Family were fading, replaced by the shouts of vendors and the creak of passing boats. Suddenly, a sharp thwack! echoed just beside you, followed immediately by a tremendous SPLASH! that sent a spray of cool canal water misting over your arm.
You paused, turning your head towards the disturbance. Someone had evidently been flung into the water. In Water 7, such occurrences, while not daily, weren't entirely uncommon during a particularly lively brawl or a clumsy dockworker's misstep. You were about to resume your path, deeming it someone else’s problem, when your eyes caught a glimpse of flailing limbs. The struggle was genuine, not the playful splash of children.
Despite your pristine white dress, and the polite grace you carried, a deeper instinct took over. Without a moment's hesitation, you moved to the edge of the canal. The cool water lapped at your ankles, then swiftly climbed to your calves as you stepped in, the hem of your sundress immediately soaking up the moisture. Reaching out, you grabbed a thin, surprisingly rubbery arm, pulling with a strength that belied your delicate appearance.
With a grunt, you hauled a young man, clearly not much older than a boy, out of the murky water. He coughed, sputtering, and looked utterly bewildered. His eyes were wide, and a wide, goofy grin was already trying to break through his water-logged shock. Clutched in your other hand, having bobbed to the surface right beside him, was a rather distinctive straw hat, its brim slightly bent from the impact. You held it out to him, your own expression a mixture of concern and mild exasperation at the unexpected turn your morning had taken.
You released his arm, but your gaze remained fixed on him, a polite concern etched on your features. As he coughed out the last of the canal water, you instinctively leaned closer, just enough to discern the steady rhythm of his breathing. He was clearly alright, remarkably so, considering he'd just been unceremoniously dunked. His ease, almost immediate and unsettlingly cheerful despite the near-death experience, was... peculiar.
As he sputtered and wiped water from his face, you took a moment to observe him more closely. His clothes were damp, but simple, and he had that undeniable air of someone who lived life on the move. Definitely a traveler, you concluded, likely a recent arrival who'd somehow managed to draw the attention of the Franky Family. You sighed inwardly. It wouldn't be the first time Franky, Iceburg's adoptive brother – though their relationship was anything but close, a stark contrast to the easy bond you shared with your own husband – had caused trouble for unsuspecting visitors.
Before you could offer any further words of caution or ask if he was truly well, the young man flashed a wide, toothy grin that seemed to split his face. "Shishishi! Thanks, fancy lady!" he chirped, his voice surprisingly bright. With a boundless energy that seemed to defy the recent dunking, he practically pounced to his feet, shaking off the remaining water like a wet dog, completely unconcerned by the dampness of your dress or the potential for a chill. He reached out and snatched his straw hat from your hand, already placing it firmly back on his head as if nothing untoward had happened at all.
You watched him with a mixture of amusement and lingering concern as he bounced on the balls of his feet, entirely unfazed. "Are you quite alright, young man?" you asked, your voice soft but clear, your hand still instinctively hovering near him, ready to steady him should he suddenly lose his footing. The soft smile remained on your lips, though a tiny crease of worry still sat between your brows. "You took quite a tumble. I'd hate for you to catch a chill. If you'll permit me, I'd be happy to buy you some dry clothes."
He tilted his head, his wide, dark eyes blinking at you. "Huh? Oh, I'm fine!" he declared, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand. His grin widened, displaying a carefree innocence. "I'm always fine! Thanks for the offer, fancy lady, but I don't need any new clothes. I'm strong!"
You chuckled, a light, melodic sound. "I can see that," you conceded, a hint of admiration in your tone. "But even strong people can get sick. And what is your name, young man? Mine is Y/N." You offered a small, polite curtsy, despite the dampness of your dress.
"Monkey D. Luffy!" he announced, his chest puffing out slightly with pride, before quickly following it with a booming "And I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"
You blinked, a small, elegant laugh escaping you. King of the Pirates. What a wonderfully audacious dream for such a young, unburdened soul. "Well, Monkey D. Luffy," you replied, a genuine smile now gracing your face, the earlier worry momentarily forgotten in the face of his boundless enthusiasm. "It's a pleasure to meet you. And I can see you have big ambitions."
Despite your refined grace and his wild, untamed energy, an unexpected ease settled between you two. Your polite inquiries and his blunt, honest declarations somehow complemented each other. You found yourself oddly charmed by his straightforwardness, and he seemed entirely unbothered by your more composed demeanor.
"You're soaking wet, Luffy," you reiterated gently, your gaze lingering on the still-dripping fabric of his shorts. "And you must be hungry after all that… excitement. Please, let me at least buy you some food. And really, a change of clothes would do you good. Even the King of the Pirates needs to stay warm, doesn't he?" You gestured vaguely towards the bustling street, a silent invitation to find a warm, dry place. The morning's concern about Iceburg hadn't vanished entirely, but for now, the sheer, vibrant presence of Monkey D. Luffy filled the space.
You led Luffy to a bustling eatery nestled among the canals, its savory aromas spilling out onto the street. The place was lively, filled with the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversation, but the moment you stepped inside, the cook, a burly man with a flour-dusted apron, greeted you with a respectful nod. "Lady Y/N! Good to see you."
You offered him a polite smile before turning to your companion. "What would you like to eat, Luffy?" you asked, anticipating his answer even before the words left your lips.
"MEAT!" he bellowed, his eyes already sparkling with unadulterated hunger, completely oblivious to the sudden lull in conversation his volume caused.
You chuckled, shaking your head fondly. "Meat it is, then," you confirmed to the cook. "Could you please prepare a good, hearty portion for this young man? Something to truly soothe a sea-faring stomach."
The cook grinned, used to your thoughtful requests. "Right away, Lady Y/N!" he replied, already turning to his grill.
Luffy, however, had already drifted into a world of his own. His eyes were wide and fixated on the kitchen, a faint drool at the corner of his mouth as the scent of sizzling meat began to waft through the air. The polite exchange between you and the cook, the recognition of your status, all of it sailed right over his straw-hatted head. All he could see, all he could smell, all he could think about, was the promise of succulent meat.
The sizzling platter of meat, piled high and steaming, was set before Luffy. His eyes lit up like beacons, and without a moment's hesitation, he snatched a large piece, tearing into it with gusto. You watched him, a soft, contented smile on your face, the warmth of his simple joy infectious.
"Here," you said, gently offering him the platter. "We can eat as we walk. There's another shop nearby I think would have something suitable for you to change into."
Luffy merely grunted in agreement, his mouth full, already halfway through his first piece. You rose from your seat, picking up the platter for him to continue devouring as you prepared to exit the eatery.
Just as you reached the doorway, the scent of his perfectly cooked meat still lingering in the air, a blur of motion and a sharp intake of breath caught your attention. A man with strikingly blonde hair, impeccably dressed, had just entered. His eyes, which had initially been scanning the room with a practiced air, suddenly landed on you.
In an instant, his entire demeanor transformed. His posture straightened, a dreamy, almost reverent expression blossomed on his face, and he practically glided towards you, a perfect gentlemanly bow already in motion.
"Ah, ma chérie!" he crooned, his voice dripping with an almost theatrical adoration. "Such exquisite beauty gracing this humble establishment! May I be so bold as to inquire what brings a goddess such as yourself to our mere mortal fare?" He was Sanji, undeniably, already in full "lady mode," completely ignoring the meat-devouring, still-damp young man at your side, his entire focus consumed by your presence.
Sanji, with a flourish, gently took your hand, his head bowing low. His lips, surprisingly soft, brushed against your knuckles in a gesture of exaggerated gallantry. You felt a flicker of surprise; it had been years since anyone in Water 7 had dared such an intimate, unsolicited gesture. This, you instantly surmised, was another newcomer, completely unaware of the subtle boundaries that even the most boisterous citizens observed around the Mayor's wife. No one who truly knew the undercurrent of respect, or perhaps even a hint of fear, surrounding your connection to Iceburg would ever dream of such a direct, personal approach.
A soft, almost imperceptible chuckle escaped your lips, a sound of gentle amusement rather than offense. With an effortless grace, you gently, almost imperceptibly, pulled your hand free from his light grasp.
"My apologies, good sir," you said, your voice calm and polite, as you gestured towards the young man beside you, who was still vigorously working on his platter of meat. "I was merely seeing to this young man. He took an unfortunate spill into the canal earlier, and I felt it only proper to ensure he was well fed and warm."
You hadn't even considered that the two might know each other. Water 7 was a large port, filled with countless new faces every day.
"SANJI!" Luffy suddenly roared, his mouth still full, a piece of meat visibly dangling from his lips. He pointed at the blonde-haired man with his free hand. "That's my cook!"
The words, though garbled, were unmistakable. Your eyes widened slightly, darting between the immaculately dressed Sanji, whose romantic gaze now flickered to the meat-stuffed Luffy with a mix of exasperation and affection, and the oblivious boy himself. His cook? The implication was clear: these two were not just acquaintances. They were companions. And given Luffy's earlier declaration, "King of the Pirates," it could only mean one thing. They were pirates.
Your calm demeanor remained undisturbed. The revelation that they were pirates didn't faze you in the slightest. Water 7 thrived on its shipbuilding industry; pirates, marines, merchants ��� everyone passed through its bustling docks. You’d seen countless crews, good and bad, pass through the city over the years. And these two, despite their unconventional introduction and Luffy’s loud pronouncements, didn't seem to possess any malicious intent. A boisterous, perhaps even foolish, pair, but not inherently threatening.
"Oh," you murmured, a faint, knowing smile playing on your lips as you finally connected the dots. "So you two know each other, then. And you're... a cook, you say?" You directed the last part to Sanji, a hint of curiosity in your gaze.
Sanji, meanwhile, was in a state of utter disarray, his suave facade crumbling into disbelief. His eyes darted between your elegant form and Luffy, who was still happily munching on his meat, oblivious to the existential crisis he was causing his cook. A goddess, an angel, a woman of such ethereal beauty and grace, he thought, actually speaking to... to him? And not only speaking to him, but being in the company of his uncouth, perpetually hungry captain, who was, at this very moment, demonstrating the table manners of a wild beast. The injustice! The sheer audacity of fate! A vision like you, even batting an eye at Luffy, was a shock to his very core. His perfectly coiffed eyebrow twitched, caught between his chivalrous adoration for you and his simmering exasperation with his captain.
You observed Sanji's flustered reaction, a subtle flicker of amusement in your eyes. He seemed genuinely distressed, a comical contrast to his earlier smooth demeanor. Being the gracious hostess you were, and seeing that he was clearly associated with the young man you were helping, you extended your invitation.
"Since you two are clearly acquainted," you said, a warm, inviting smile gracing your lips, "perhaps you'd care to join us? I was just about to take Luffy here to a shop to find him some dry clothes." You paused, then added, with a gentle tilt of your head, "And perhaps," your gaze sweeping over Sanji's impeccable but likely well-worn suit, "if you're a friend of his, you might also find something you like. After all, a proper cook should always look his best, shouldn't he?"
Sanji's eyes, already wide with adoration, practically bugged out of his head. To be invited by such an angel! To shop with her! The thought was almost too much for his romantic heart to bear. He sputtered, caught between the overwhelming joy of your invitation and the sudden, horrifying realization that this would mean spending more time in the presence of his utterly uncouth captain, who was currently letting out a satisfied burp. But the call of a lady's kindness, especially your kindness, was irresistible.
Luffy, meanwhile, had finally finished his platter of meat, letting out another contented "Shishishi!" He looked up, chewing thoughtfully. "More meat, Sanji?" he asked, completely missing the delicate social dance unfolding around him.
You began to move, a vision of calm and effortless grace as you glided out of the restaurant and onto the bustling street, the sunlight catching the soft fabric of your dress. Luffy, now unburdened by his meat, followed your lead with an almost childlike obedience, already looking eager for the next step.
"First, let's get you some dry clothes, hm?" you said, your voice a gentle murmur, primarily directed at Luffy but clearly meant for Sanji's ears as well. "Then, perhaps, after you're warm and comfortable, we can find you more food. I imagine a growing boy like yourself could always eat." Your words were a soft invitation, your expectation that Sanji would simply fall in step with you and Luffy clear in your posture and the slight, encouraging glance you offered over your shoulder.
Sanji, still reeling from the angelic presence and the sheer audacity of his captain, practically stumbled out after you. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – the indignity of Luffy's public display, the overwhelming beauty of your invitation, the chance to be in your divine presence. He snapped out of his daze just enough to realize you were already walking away, and with a swift, almost frantic motion, he fell into step, trailing respectfully behind you and Luffy, his adoration for you already battling fiercely with his usual exasperation for his captain.
The walk to the nearby clothing shop was pleasant, the afternoon sun warm on your skin. The bustling energy of Water 7 surrounded you, but your little group moved through it as if in a small, self-contained bubble. Luffy, still munching on the last vestiges of his meat, seemed utterly content. Sanji, though following, was a whirlwind of inner turmoil and outward composure, his eyes occasionally darting to you with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.
You decided to break the comfortable silence, your voice gentle. "So," you began, directing your question generally to both of them, "what made you both leave the sea and become pirates? It's quite a life, from what I hear."
Luffy, after swallowing a particularly large bite, answered instantly. "Adventure! And I wanna be King of the Pirates! And find the One Piece!" His ambition was laid bare, simple and absolute.
Sanji, however, took a more reflective, albeit still dramatic, tone. "Ah, ma petite fleur," he sighed, looking up at the sky. "A man must follow his heart's calling, must he not? To find the All Blue, to be among beautiful ladies and create the most exquisite cuisine... That is my path." He then glanced sidelong at Luffy, a flicker of exasperation crossing his face. "Though perhaps not always with the most... refined company."
As they spoke, Sanji, ever the observant one, noticed something subtle. Shopkeepers waved, people on the street offered genuine, warm smiles, and even the often gruff shipwrights nodded respectfully as you passed. There was a quiet reverence in their eyes, an appreciation that went beyond mere politeness.
"So, my angel," Sanji began, his voice lowered slightly, his gaze sweeping over the friendly faces you encountered, "you're quite popular around here, aren't you?"
You offered a small, knowing smile, your gaze sweeping over the familiar faces of your city. "Something like that," you replied, a hint of understatement in your tone. The truth was far more complex than simple popularity, but it wasn't a story you felt the need to share with new acquaintances over a casual stroll.
You pushed open the door to a large, well-stocked clothing store, the scent of new fabric and a subtle hint of sea salt filling the air. "Please," you said, gesturing expansively to the racks and shelves filled with garments. "Pick out whatever you like. We'll ensure it's suitable for your travels."
Luffy's eyes lit up, already scanning for something that looked comfortable, while Sanji's expression remained fixed on you, though his thoughts were clearly still on your captivating presence.
Before either of them could truly dive into the selection, a familiar, distinctly exasperated voice, sharp and clear, cut through the general hum of the store. "But it says right here, on the back of this flyer! 'Two-for-one on all new arrivals with coupon code SHIPMATE!' Don't tell me you don't honor your own promotions!"
Sanji's head snapped up, his eyes widening. "Nami-swan!" he gasped, his previous adoration for you momentarily eclipsed by the appearance of another beautiful woman from his crew. He was already gliding, almost floating, towards the source of the voice, a dizzying array of hearts practically emanating from him.
"Nami!" Luffy yelled, his voice equally delighted, abandoning his meat-platter-holding mission to follow Sanji. "That's our navigator!"
You watched, a touch of bewilderment flickering in your eyes, as the two pirates, whom you'd only just met, rushed towards a young woman with vibrant orange hair, who was indeed engaged in a spirited debate with a flustered cashier. With a soft smile, still slightly confused but intrigued by the sudden reunion, you followed them, curious to meet the rest of this unusual crew. Luffy, true to his word, quickly introduced you. "Hey Nami! This is Y/N! She pulled me out of the water and she's buying us clothes!"
Nami, still mid-sentence with the cashier, paused, turning her head. Her sharp, intelligent eyes took you in, noting your elegant dress and serene demeanor, a mixture of surprise and calculation briefly crossing her features. You, in turn, offered a warm, polite smile to the bright-haired navigator, the morning continuing its unexpected, fascinating trajectory.
The cashier, already flustered by Nami's sharp negotiating tactics, visibly stiffened and began to stammer when his gaze fell upon you. His face, already a shade of anxious red, deepened further as he recognized you. He fumbled with the register, his eyes wide with a mix of respect and trepidation.
You observed the scene with calm composure, your soft smile unwavering as you looked from the determined navigator to the clearly overwhelmed cashier. It was a familiar dance in Water 7: the shrewd shopper, the weary merchant. Without a word, you reached into your small, elegant purse. Your fingers closed around a familiar card – one that spoke volumes about your identity without needing a single uttered title.
"Here," you said, extending it towards the cashier, your voice gentle but firm. "Please, take this. I'll pay for whatever these people wish to purchase. And perhaps," you added, a subtle hint of kindness in your eyes, "we can find a resolution to this coupon matter that satisfies everyone."
Nami's jaw dropped ever so slightly. Her argument with the cashier, which had been so fierce moments before, died on her lips. She stared at the card, then at your serene face, a mixture of shock and dawning delight spreading across her features. It wasn't every day a complete stranger, let alone a woman of your obvious stature, stepped in to solve her financial squabbles with such effortless generosity.
You stood patiently by the counter, a picture of tranquil observation, as the newly expanded group of pirates descended upon the clothing store. It was quite a spectacle.
Luffy, true to form, wasn't actually picking anything. Instead, he was a whirlwind of pure, unadulterated excitement, zipping between racks and calling out, "Shishishi! Thank you, fancy lady! So much stuff!" His appreciation was loud and entirely genuine, if not particularly focused on acquiring specific garments.
Sanji was a vibrant storm of sartorial enthusiasm and unabashed flirtation. He moved with a dancer's grace, pulling out various outfits, holding them up, and then turning to you with dramatic flair. "Oh, my exquisite patroness! You possess the generosity of a thousand suns! How can I ever repay such divine benevolence?" He'd then dissolve into a series of compliments, each one more flowery than the last, his gratitude almost overshadowed by his romantic overtures.
And then there was Nami. The navigator, having quickly overcome her initial surprise, was a force of nature. With an almost predatory gleam in her eyes, she wasn't just Browse the racks; she was systematically clearing them. Shirts, dresses, scarves, shoes – everything that caught her eye, everything that looked remotely useful or valuable, was swiftly gathered into an overflowing pile. "Thank you, Y/N!" she chirped, giving you a quick, appreciative wink as she added another armful of merchandise to her growing bounty.
Despite the chaos and the unbridled enthusiasm, you maintained your soft smile. It was certainly an eventful day. As Nami continued her efficient plundering, a small, genuine question formed in her mind, one that she couldn't help but voice, though it was almost lost amidst the flurry of fabric and pirate exuberance. "Though, if you don't mind me asking," Nami paused, finally looking at you with a slightly more serious, though still appreciative, expression, "who exactly are you?"
You offered Nami a serene, almost secretive smile. "Oh, just a resident of Water 7," you replied, your voice soft and unassuming, as if your life were as ordinary as any other citizen's. You didn't elaborate, didn't hint at the grand house you shared with Iceburg, or the subtle power you wielded through influence and connection. Your identity was your own to reveal, and for now, a simple resident was all they needed to know.
Nami, ever pragmatic, seemed to accept the answer without pushing further, her attention already returning to the mountainous pile of clothes she was acquiring.
As if on cue, the pirates began converging on the counter. Luffy, finally done exploring, sauntered over, still radiating boundless energy. Sanji, ever the gentleman, presented his selections with a flourish, showering you with compliments. And Nami, with impressive efficiency, simply began piling her accumulated treasures onto the counter.
The poor cashier, already a nervous wreck, seemed to shrink further behind the register. His hands trembled slightly as he began scanning the mountain of items, the electronic beeps of the scanner a rapid-fire testament to Nami's thoroughness. He didn't dare question, didn't dare complain; he simply scanned, his eyes darting between the overwhelming pile of goods and your calm, elegant presence, knowing better than to cross Lady Y/N.
A few minutes later, the group emerged from the clothing store, the afternoon sun now a little lower in the sky. The sight was, in a word, memorable. Sanji, despite his earlier declarations of needing new clothes himself, was now utterly laden. Nami, with a triumphant smirk, had offloaded every single one of her numerous shopping bags onto him, a veritable tower of fabric and paper clutched in his arms. He grumbled under his breath, but the moment his eyes landed on you, his complaints vanished.
You, ever gracious, offered to help. "Here, let me take some of those," you offered gently, reaching out a hand towards one of the precariously balanced bags.
Sanji, however, recoiled dramatically, a theatrical gasp escaping his lips. "Never, my radiant muse!" he declared, swaying slightly under the weight. "To allow such divine hands to be burdened with these earthly wares would be a crime against beauty itself! These bags are but feathers when carried for the pleasure of such an angel!" He managed a shaky bow, almost toppling over in the process.
You simply offered him a soft, understanding smile, a small shake of your head. His exaggerated chivalry was charming, in its own way. It was clear he wouldn't part with his self-imposed burden for anything. Luffy, meanwhile, had already bounded ahead, probably sniffing out the next source of food.
The destination, for now, was indeed unknown, merely a gentle meandering through the vibrant streets of Water 7. You walked at a leisurely pace, the gentle hum of the city a constant backdrop. Luffy, now free of his meat platter, was skipping ahead, full of restless energy. Sanji, still impressively laden with Nami's shopping, trailed a respectful, though slightly strained, distance behind you, while Nami walked alongside him, occasionally adjusting a bag.
"So," you began, your voice carrying easily in the afternoon air, "since you're all travelers, what brings you to Water 7? Is it just a stop on your journey?"
Luffy, overhearing, immediately piped up without turning around. "We're fixing the Going Merry!" he shouted back, his voice cheerful and straightforward.
Nami sighed, a touch of weariness entering her tone. "That's our ship," she clarified for your benefit, rubbing her temples slightly. "But... it's really, really broken. We're hoping Galley-La can help us." The unspoken worry about the severity of their ship's damage hung in the air, a stark contrast to Luffy's blithe announcement.
You sensed the shift in the atmosphere, the faint shadow of worry that had just touched Nami's voice. The mood, however subtly, was beginning to dip. It was a familiar pattern with visitors to Water 7, the initial wonder giving way to the grim reality of ship repair. You moved to lighten it, your presence a calming balm.
"Galley-La is truly the best in the world," you reassured them, your voice soft and melodious, like the gentle lapping of waves against the city's foundations. "If anyone can fix your ship, it's them. They possess an unparalleled skill and a deep understanding of every timber and nail. Rest assured, your 'Going Merry' will be in the most capable hands imaginable." Your words were sweet, full of a quiet confidence, and delivered with an elegance that seemed to make the very air around you sparkle.
Sanji, who had been listening intently, let out a choked sound. His face flushed crimson, and he quickly brought his bag-laden hands up to cover his nose, mumbling incoherently. "Such an angel… the very sound of her voice… a serenade to the soul… too beautiful…" His usual exaggerated declarations were muffled, lost in the sheer overwhelming effect of your comforting presence. Nami rolled her eyes, but a faint, appreciative smile touched her lips, clearly reassured by your calm certainty.
"Perhaps," you began, sensing the lighter mood had firmly taken hold, "the best way to truly see your ship is to visit her at Galley-La. We can go there now, if you'd like. I'm sure they'll be able to give you a full assessment." Your words set a new course, your next destination now clear.
As you spoke, guiding them subtly towards the grand Galley-La headquarters, there was a sudden, jarring impact. A rough, solid form, accompanied by the faint clink of metal, slammed into your side. Your balance, usually so poised, gave way instantly, and with a gasp, you found yourself falling, the white sundress rustling as you tumbled to the stone pavement.
Sanji, who had been trailing just behind you, let out a guttural roar that instantly banished all traces of his lovesick demeanor. He dropped Nami's bags with a resounding thud, his eyes blazing with incandescent fury as he spun towards the culprit.
"You've got to be kidding me! Moss Head?!" he shrieked, his voice laced with venom, his entire being radiating murderous intent. "You clumsy, green-haired bastard! How dare you lay a single filthy hand on this angel, you absolute disgrace to humanity!"
Before Sanji could fully launch himself, Luffy's cheerful voice cut through the sudden tension. "Zoro!" he yelled, a wide grin spreading across his face, entirely oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
Nami, however, reacted with a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes widened in alarm as she saw you on the ground, then narrowed dangerously at the green-haired swordsman now standing awkwardly a few feet away. "Zoro, you idiot!" she hissed, a hand flying to her mouth in shock. "What did you do?!"
The people on the bustling street, who moments before had been merely going about their day, froze. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Their smiles vanished, replaced by expressions of utter shock, then quickly, raw anger and profound disbelief. Their gazes, usually so welcoming towards you, now fixated on the green-haired man, radiating a chilling intensity. It was a look far deeper than mere annoyance at a clumsy pirate; it was a silent, furious condemnation, a testament to just how deeply you were revered in Water 7, and how unforgivable they considered the act of seeing you fall.
The Straw Hats exchanged bewildered glances. Why were these people looking at them like that? Like they'd just committed some unspeakable crime, far worse than merely being pirates. The sheer intensity of the crowd's anger, directed solely at Zoro for such a seemingly minor bump, was baffling. They had no idea of the quiet reverence the citizens held for you, the unspoken understanding of your connection to the very heart of their city.
You, meanwhile, had already begun to gracefully recover. With a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, you pushed yourself up, brushing off the dampness and imaginary dust from your white sundress with a calm, elegant hand. You offered a small, reassuring smile to the alarmed crowd, a gesture that immediately softened some of the tension.
"Ah, my apologies," you said, your voice gentle and clear, carrying easily to the still-staring onlookers. "That was partially my fault; I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm quite alright, though." Your words were a balm, instantly soothing the agitated air.
You then turned your attention to the green-haired swordsman, who stood with a mix of sheepishness and slight confusion. "You must be on Luffy's crew then?" you inquired, your gaze polite and steady.
Luffy, ever the oblivious and proud captain, burst into a boisterous laugh. "Shishishi! Yeah, that's my swordsman, Zoro!" he chirped, entirely missing the lingering stares and the subtle tension that still hummed in the air.
"Oh, you're a swordsman, how wonderful!" you said, your voice carrying a genuine note of appreciation. You looked at Zoro with an almost academic interest, completely unbothered by his earlier clumsiness. "I've always found such grace in the art of swordsmanship. There's a certain elegance to the blade, isn't there?"
Zoro, unaccustomed to such a gentle and appreciative reaction, merely grunted, a faint surprise flickering in his eyes.
"We were just heading to Galley-La to see how the Going Merry is doing," you continued, turning slightly to include him in your serene invitation. "Perhaps you'd like to join us? It would be good to assess the situation of your ship together."
Luffy, now fully aware that the crew was reuniting, let out another joyous laugh and bounded over to Zoro, clapping him on the back. "Come on, Zoro! Y/N's super nice! She bought us clothes and food!"
As the group resumed its walk, the initial fury in the crowd slowly began to dissipate, replaced by lingering stares and a palpable sense of caution. People still watched the Straw Hats with narrowed eyes, especially Zoro, a collective unease radiating from them. The intensity was undeniable, far more profound than any simple dislike for pirates. But as you continued to walk, your calm, dignified presence at their side seemed to act as a silent shield, slowly, reluctantly, persuading the citizens to return to their daily routines, though not without casting a final, lingering glare at the green-haired swordsman who had dared to cause you to fall.
The walk to Galley-La was filled with the usual Water 7 sounds – the creak of timber, the distant clang of hammers, the cries of vendors. The glares from the public slowly subsided as you continued, your composed presence seeming to diffuse the lingering tension. Sanji still bristled whenever he caught a particularly hard stare aimed at Zoro, but he kept his focus largely on you.
"So," you began, your voice light and conversational, "is it just the four of you on this journey? Or are there others in your crew?"
Luffy, ever eager to talk about his nakama, immediately lit up. "Nope! There's Usopp, our sniper! He's super brave! And Robin, she's our archaeologist! She's really quiet but super smart!"
Nami nodded, adding her own pragmatic descriptions. "Usopp's a bit of a coward, but he's got a great aim. And Robin... she's very helpful with navigation and history." She shot a quick glance at Luffy. "And then there's Chopper, our doctor! He's a reindeer!"
Sanji, meanwhile, took the opportunity to lean in slightly, carrying his burden of bags with surprising ease. "Ah, but none, my angel, could compare to the exquisite beauty and grace of a lady such as yourself," he murmured, completely ignoring the descriptions of his fellow crewmates. "To have you sail with us would be a dream come true!"
Zoro, walking a few paces behind, merely grunted. He was probably already wondering if Galley-La had a good place for a nap.
You chuckled softly at Sanji's persistent flattery, and at the diverse picture painted by Luffy and Nami. "A sniper, an archaeologist, and a doctor who's a reindeer," you mused aloud, a genuine smile playing on your lips. "Your crew sounds quite fascinating, Luffy. A true testament to the variety of life on the Grand Line." You made a mental note of the names, already feeling a strange fondness for these boisterous, unique pirates who had so unexpectedly stumbled into your day.
You arrived at the sprawling complex of Galley-La Company, a colossal testament to Water 7's shipbuilding prowess. The air here was thick with the scent of sawdust, tar, and hot metal, a symphony of hammers, drills, and the shouts of shipwrights. It was a rough, industrial environment, a place of immense power and practical grit.
The Straw Hats, having just left the more refined ambiance of the shops and market, immediately noticed the stark contrast. Yet, you walked through it all with the same gentle grace and serene composure you had displayed in your own home. Your soft white dress, now slightly dampened and subtly wrinkled, seemed entirely at odds with the grimy, hardworking backdrop, yet you moved as if you belonged here, as if this cacophony was merely background music.
What truly caught their attention, however, was the reaction of the Galley-La workers. Rough-hewn shipwrights, their faces smudged with grease and sweat, paused their work to offer you respectful nods and warm, genuine smiles. Foremen, bustling with authority, would momentarily halt their instructions, their eyes softening as you passed, a quiet "Lady Y/N" often murmured under their breath. They treated you with a deference that went far beyond mere politeness for a civilian. It was the way one might treat a trusted, beloved figure, someone with inherent authority.
Luffy, ever the least observant, simply grinned and waved back at anyone who smiled at him, oblivious to the deeper meaning. Nami, however, narrowed her eyes slightly, a flicker of shrewd curiosity in her gaze. Sanji, momentarily forgetting his amorous declarations, stared, his brow furrowed in thought. Even Zoro, usually detached, couldn't help but notice the collective shift in the workers' demeanor. The way everyone seemed to acknowledge you, the quiet reverence in their eyes, the undeniable comfort with which you moved through this industrial behemoth—it was as if you almost owned the place. And in a way they couldn't yet comprehend, you almost did.
You chuckled softly, a light, melodious sound that seemed to smooth over the awkwardness of Luffy's observation. Turning back to Kaku, you offered him a charming smile. "Funny ones, aren't they?" you mused, a hint of fond exasperation in your tone.
Kaku, however, seemed to suddenly snap back to a more serious reality. His gaze, which had momentarily softened under your presence, flickered to the Straw Hat Pirates, and then, a faint memory seemed to register in his mind – the battered ship, the unmistakable Jolly Roger they flew. His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked back at you, a subtle warning in his voice.
"Lady Y/N," he began, his tone now grave, "you're aware they're pirates, aren't you? I'm sure your husband wouldn't approve of you... associating with such individuals."
Your smile remained, but a subtle, almost imperceptible shift occurred in your demeanor. Your eyes, usually so soft, gained a steely glint, and your posture straightened, radiating a quiet, unyielding authority.
"Well, Kaku," you replied, your voice still gentle, but with an underlying current of firm resolve, "my husband doesn't control my life. And," you added, leaning in just slightly, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "he doesn't need to know about all my little adventures, does he?" You finished with a charming, knowing wink.
Sanji, who had been listening with rapt attention, completely crumbled. "HUSBAND?!" he shrieked, his voice cracking, the bags still clutched in his hands. His entire being seemed to shatter into a million pieces, his face draining of all color.
Nami, standing beside him, looked utterly bewildered. "Husband? What husband? What the hell is going on?" Her gaze darted between your serene, knowing smile and Kaku's suddenly tense expression, then to Sanji's meltdown, trying desperately to piece together the unfolding enigma. Luffy, of course, remained oblivious, probably still wondering about the man who looked like Usopp.
You turned, a brief, minimal explanation already forming on your lips to appease Nami's confusion and Sanji's utter despair. But before you could utter a single word, a familiar, deep voice cut through the clamor of the shipyard.
"Sir!" Kaku exclaimed, snapping to attention, his previous sternness immediately replaced with deference.
Your head snapped up, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. Standing not far off, moving with a practiced ease through the shipyard, was Iceburg himself. He was already looking in your direction, a gentle smile gracing his features as he approached. Behind him, just a few paces away, was his assistant, Kalifa, her strict, professional demeanor perfectly in place. You felt an immediate, familiar clench in your stomach. Kalifa was always so close to him, her presence a constant, low-level irritation. You couldn't shake the feeling she was constantly flirting with him, despite his seemingly oblivious nature.
"Hey, darling," Iceburg said, his voice warm and affectionate as he reached you, his gaze sweeping over the collection of bewildered pirates. "What are you doing here, hm? And who are your… new friends?"
Sanji, who had just begun to recover from the "husband" revelation, let out another strangled gasp, looking from your calm face to Iceburg, then back to you, his eyes wide with horror and realization. Nami's jaw dropped, her confusion now deepening into bewildered shock. The pieces of the puzzle were finally, dramatically, falling into place for them. Luffy, however, simply offered Iceburg a wide, friendly grin.
The bewildered expressions on Nami and Sanji's faces were priceless. Their eyes darted from Iceburg's calm, familiar presence to your serene face, the pieces of your identity clicking into place with a resounding, internal clang. Luffy, however, simply offered Iceburg a wide, friendly grin, completely unfazed. Zoro, too, merely observed, his usual detached expression unchanging.
"Hey, baby," you replied, your voice softening with genuine affection as you stepped closer to Iceburg. You leaned in swiftly, pressing a quick, familiar kiss to his cheek. "I met them earlier in town. They're quite funny, actually." You glanced at the Straw Hats with a soft, inviting smile.
"Hello, Lady Y/N," Kalifa interjected smoothly from beside Iceburg, her voice impeccably polite, though her expression remained perfectly neutral.
You shot Kalifa a quick, sharp glare, a flash of coldness in your eyes that vanished as quickly as it appeared, before you offered a curt, almost imperceptible nod in return. "Hello, Kalifa."
Turning back to your husband, you continued, your tone shifting to a more business-like, yet still gentle, explanation. "We were just coming to ask Kaku about their ship. They brought it in earlier, the Going Merry, and it seems to be in quite a state."
You finally posed the question that had been lingering in your mind since you woke. As you pulled away from your quick kiss, your hand still gently resting on his arm, you looked up at him, a soft smile curving your lips. "Honey," you began, your voice a gentle murmur, "where were you this morning? I woke up and you were already gone."
Iceburg's expression remained calm, but his eyes held a subtle, unreadable depth. "Sorry, sweetheart," he replied, his hand briefly covering yours. "Something came up that I had to handle immediately. We can discuss it later."
You simply nodded, accepting his answer without pushing. You knew his demanding schedule, and sometimes his work truly did necessitate abrupt departures.
The tension, however, was suddenly shattered by Nami's gasp, her eyes wide as she stared at you, then at Iceburg. "Your... your married to the MAYOR?!" she exclaimed, the realization hitting her like a tidal wave.
Sanji, who had been listening with a mixture of horror and renewed despair, immediately chimed in, managing to pull himself together enough to deliver his usual line. "Honestly, Lady Y/N, with all due respect to the Mayor, you could certainly do far better. A woman of your unparalleled beauty and grace deserves nothing less than the most devoted, most passionate..."
Iceburg's gentle expression vanished instantly. His gaze snapped to Sanji, a cold, hard glare replacing his usual warmth. It was a look that promised unpleasant consequences, a silent but potent warning that cut through Sanji's usual bluster, causing even the lovestruck cook to flinch back slightly. Luffy, oblivious as ever, just tilted his head, wondering what all the fuss was about.
You, sensing the sudden chill in the air from Iceburg's glare, smoothly stepped in, guiding the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Oh!" you said, a soft, polite note of urgency in your voice, as if remembering a task. You turned to Kaku, your gaze then sweeping to Luffy with a warm, encouraging smile. "Luffy's ship, the Going Merry. Kaku, how is it? When should it be repaired?"
Kaku, still holding Iceburg's intense gaze for a moment, then shifted his attention to you, his professional demeanor returning, though tinged with a visible solemnity. He cleared his throat.
"Lady Y/N," he began, his voice surprisingly gentle, considering the gravity of his words. "The ship has been thoroughly inspected. I regret to inform you that... the Going Merry cannot be repaired. The keel, it's fractured beyond any viable means of restoration. She's broken."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Luffy's bright smile faltered. His eyes, which moments before had been sparkling with anticipation, now held a bewildered, almost childish disbelief. "Huh?" he mumbled, as if he hadn't quite heard correctly. "No... no, that's not right. The Merry's fine! She's sailed through so much! She can't be... she can't be broken." He shook his head, a desperate denial clouding his features, utterly unwilling to accept the devastating truth.
The air in the bustling shipyard, once filled with the mundane sounds of work, seemed to thicken, pressing down on the Straw Hat crew. The mood, which had moments ago been lightened by your presence and their reunion, plummeted into a heavy, suffocating silence. A ship, for pirates, was more than just transportation; it was home, a sanctuary, a steadfast companion through storms and battles, a living entity that carried their dreams. To hear it was beyond repair was akin to hearing a dire prognosis for a loved one.
Luffy’s initial disbelief hardened into something raw and painful. "No," he repeated, louder this time, his voice lacking its usual cheerful ring. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his bright eyes, usually full of adventure, now clouded with a desperate stubbornness. "The Merry always pulls through! You're lying! She just needs a good repair!" The thought of abandoning her, of her not being able to sail with them, was clearly an alien concept to him.
Nami's face went pale. Her earlier exasperation with Luffy's antics vanished, replaced by a profound grief. Her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes welled up, though she quickly blinked back the tears. The reality of their situation – the logistical nightmare, the immense financial burden of a new ship, and the heartbreaking loss of their beloved Merry – crashed down on her. "Broken... beyond repair?" she whispered, the words barely audible. "But... but she's our home!"
Sanji, who had been focused on his personal melodrama, snapped out of it with brutal speed. His jaw tightened, and he glared at Kaku, a dangerous edge returning to his voice. "What do you mean, 'broken beyond repair,' you long-nosed bastard?! You're the best shipwrights in the world! You have to fix her!" His hands, still full of shopping bags, trembled with barely suppressed fury.
Zoro, usually stoic, shifted his weight. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of one of his swords, though he didn't draw it. His eyes, usually sharp and challenging, were shadowed, a grim determination hardening his features. He didn't speak, but his silent, simmering anger was a palpable force. The ship was their lifeline, their constant. To hear it was gone… it was a blow that even he felt deeply.
You watched them, your earlier casual amusement replaced by a profound empathy. You had seen their bond with their ship in their reactions, felt the immediate shift in their vibrant energy to this crushing despair. You knew the weight of a ship to those who called the sea home. Iceburg, beside you, remained silent, his expression somber, a silent acknowledgment of the pain Kaku's words had inflicted. Kaku, too, looked genuinely regretful, burdened by the task of delivering such devastating news.
You gently eased your hand from Iceburg's arm, the warmth of his presence a silent anchor you momentarily detached from. Your gaze was solely on the distraught crew before you. Their pain, so raw and palpable, was a universal language you understood intimately, living in a city whose very soul was built on these magnificent vessels. You knew ships were more than wood and canvas; they held dreams, carried lives, and weathered every storm alongside their crew.
You stepped towards them, your movements fluid and calming, your white dress a soft contrast to the industrial grit around you. Your voice, when you spoke, was a quiet balm, imbued with a deep understanding of the sea and the vessels that braved it.
"A ship," you began softly, your gaze sweeping over each of their pained faces, "is a living thing. She grows with her crew, learns their every movement, feels every wave alongside them. And just like any living thing, sometimes, a wound is too deep to heal."
You paused, allowing the gravity of your words to settle. "The keel," you continued, your voice gentle but firm, "is the very backbone of the ship. It's what holds her together, what allows her to endure the immense pressures of the ocean. When that is fractured beyond repair, it's not just a broken plank, or a torn sail. It means her spirit, her very foundation, has given all it can. It would be cruel, in a way, to force her to carry on, to put her, and you, through more torment. She has served you faithfully, bravely, to her very last."
You met Luffy's wide, disbelieving eyes, then Nami's tear-filled ones, and Sanji's furious, clenched jaw. Even Zoro, whose anger was a silent storm, seemed to listen. "It doesn't diminish her strength, or her courage, or the incredible journey she has shared with you," you clarified, your voice soothing. "It simply means she has completed her magnificent voyage. And now," you concluded, a faint, compassionate smile touching your lips, "it is time for her to rest, and for you to find a new vessel worthy of carrying such grand dreams."
A profound silence descended, broken only by the distant sounds of the shipyard. Your words, born of quiet wisdom and deep empathy for the very essence of a ship, seemed to bypass their initial shock and touch something deeper within them. Luffy's fists slowly unclenched, a profound sadness replacing his anger. Nami, instead of fighting her tears, finally let them fall, slow tracks down her cheeks. Sanji’s rigid posture softened, a heavy sigh escaping him. Even Zoro’s hard gaze seemed to soften, a flicker of pensive understanding in his eyes. You had given them not just an explanation, but a way to grieve, and a fragile seed of acceptance.
Luffy, his eyes still distant, turned and walked away from the group, his usual bounding energy replaced by a heavy, deliberate pace. He didn't run, didn't rage; he simply needed to move, to process this devastating truth in his own way, still not entirely believing it, yet subtly softened by the profound understanding in your words.
Sanji, with a practiced flick of his wrist, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, the small flame momentarily illuminating the troubled lines on his face. He took a long drag, the smoke curling around him like a heavy sigh. "He'll just need time," he mumbled, his voice rougher than usual, watching Luffy's retreating figure. "He'll come around."
Nami, her eyes red-rimmed but clear, looked at Sanji and then at Zoro, who remained silently grim. "We need to tell Usopp... and Robin," she said, her voice catching slightly on the last name. The mention of "Robin" hung in the air for a fraction of a second too long.
Iceburg, standing beside you, stiffened almost imperceptibly at the name. A fleeting tension rippled through him, quickly suppressed. You noticed it, of course, a subtle tightening of his jaw, a momentary stillness in his posture, but you pretended not to. Your gaze remained steady on the distraught crew.
"I understand," you said, your voice gentle and sympathetic. "You all go and do that. Take the time you need. And please, don't worry about the repairs for now. Galley-La will handle everything with the utmost care, regardless of the outcome." You offered them a soft, reassuring smile, granting them leave to process their grief in private.
The Straw Hats, a somber huddle, began to walk away, their usual boisterous energy replaced by a heavy silence. Luffy's retreating figure was a stark contrast to his earlier boundless joy, and even Sanji and Nami moved with a subdued air.
You watched them go, a genuine sorrow etched on your features. "Poor people," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, a sigh escaping your lips. "They don't deserve this."
Then, with a gentle shift, you turned back to Iceburg, Kaku, and Kalifa. The public scene was over, and the more private, complex dynamics of your life in Water 7 could resume, colored by the lingering concern for the pirates and the unspoken questions of the morning.
You turned to Iceburg, the empathy for the pirates still soft in your eyes, but your focus now shifted back to the concerns of your life, and his. Kaku, still slightly rigid, and Kalifa, ever impassive, waited for your lead.
"honey, kaku, kalifa.:" you said, your voice clear and precise now, "please ensure that the Straw Hats are treated with the utmost care during their stay here. Despite the unfortunate news about their ship, I want them to feel welcome and respected in Water 7." You glanced at Iceburg, a silent plea for his agreement.
Iceburg nodded, his initial tension easing. "Of course, sweetheart," he confirmed, his gaze meeting yours with a familiar warmth. "Kaku, see to it personally. They'll need a place to stay, and help in finding... a new vessel, if they so choose."
Kaku bowed his head. "Understood, Sir. Lady Y/N."
Kalifa, from her position, offered another precise nod. "As you wish, Lady Y/N." You met her gaze for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between you—a brief, unreadable exchange that held years of unspoken understanding and subtle friction, before you gracefully dismissed her.
You turned back to Iceburg, a genuine, tired smile finally blooming on your face. "It's been quite a day," you murmured, leaning into him slightly. He responded by wrapping an arm gently around your waist, pulling you closer. The familiar comfort of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against your side, was a quiet reassurance.
"It sounds like it," he chuckled softly, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Ready to head home, my dear? I imagine you've had enough excitement for one afternoon."
You sighed contentedly, resting your head briefly on his shoulder. "More than enough," you agreed. The world of pirates, grand dreams, and devastating losses might have intruded upon your calm morning, but here, in the embrace of your husband, within the bustling heart of Water 7, your world felt warm, safe, and perfectly anchored. The sun was beginning its gentle descent, casting long, golden shadows across the shipyard, promising a quiet evening, and the familiar rhythm of your life in the city that hummed around you, unaware of the storms gathering on the horizon.
The vibrant hum of Water 7 had been replaced by a chilling pall. The news had ripped through the city like a devastating gale, leaving behind a silence heavier than any storm. Iceburg, the very heart of this bustling metropolis, had been attacked, brutally injured, and left clinging to life. And the blame, a venomous whisper that quickly escalated into a roar, had fallen squarely on the Straw Hat Pirates, specifically on the woman named Robin, because of her connection to Luffy's crew.
You had just found out. The world tilted on its axis, the familiar comfort of your home suddenly feeling cold and alien. Your beloved Iceburg, lying broken, near death. The thought alone twisted a knot of icy dread in your stomach. The city was in an uproar, cries of betrayal and anger echoing from every alley and canal. The narrative was clear: the Straw Hats, these "pirates" you had so recently welcomed, were responsible.
But as the accusations flew, as the anger of the people surged, a profound, unshakeable certainty settled deep within your heart. You had met them. You had looked into Luffy's honest, if sometimes oblivious, eyes, witnessed Nami's pragmatism, Sanji's chivalry, and even Zoro's quiet strength. They were not malicious. They were boisterous, perhaps chaotic, but not capable of such a heinous, cowardly act. The image of Robin, quiet and intelligent, didn't fit the picture of an assassin.
No. You knew, with every fiber of your being, that Luffy, and his crew, did not do this. The truth felt like a raw wound, and the injustice of the accusation burned fiercely. You wouldn't let this stand. You had to find out what truly happened, for Iceburg, and for the young captain whose frank smile had, just a short while ago, brightened your day.
The journey to the infirmary felt like traversing an endless, suffocating tunnel. Each step was heavy, laden with the dread that had replaced the lively rhythm of Water 7. The hushed whispers of doctors and nurses, the antiseptic scent that clung to the air – it all screamed of the fragile line he had just danced across.
When you finally reached his bedside, the sight of him struck you like a physical blow. Iceburg, your strong, indomitable Iceburg, lay pale against the white sheets, bandages stark against his skin, his breathing shallow. He was alive, yes, but so terribly vulnerable. A sob tore from your throat, raw and unrestrained, the dam of your composure finally breaking. You were a wreck, tears streaming down your face, your hands trembling so violently you could barely reach for him.
You sank into the chair beside his bed, gently taking his bandaged hand, bringing it to your lips. It was warm, alive. That simple truth was a balm, yet the terror of the alternative clawed at your heart. "My love," you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears, "my darling, my precious Iceburg… You almost left me." You pressed your face against his hand, the salty tracks of your tears dampening his skin.
His eyes, still slightly glazed, fluttered open. He looked at you, and a faint, tired smile, so achingly familiar, touched his lips. His thumb, ever so weakly, tried to stroke your cheek. "Y/N," he murmured, your name a soft sigh, imbued with all the tenderness you knew. "My sweet… you're crying."
"I thought I'd lost you," you choked out, looking up at him through your tear-blurred vision. You gently cupped his cheek, avoiding his bandages, your touch feather-light, as if he might shatter. "The thought... the thought was unbearable. My heart, my whole world, it was just... shattering." You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then his temple, then the corner of his lips, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin, to assure yourself he was truly here. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, my love. Please, don't you ever leave me." His weak squeeze of your hand was the only answer you needed. For a moment, the world outside, the accusations, the chaos of Water 7, faded into oblivion, replaced by the profound, overwhelming relief of having him, your Iceburg, still by your side.
You lingered, your hand still clasped in his, when he slowly, with a slight wince, lifted his free hand and patted the space next to him on the narrow hospital bed. His eyes, though weary, held a clear invitation. He wanted you closer, to hold you, to draw strength from your presence.
Your heart ached. You desperately wanted to be near him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, but the sight of his bandages, the fragility of his state, made you hesitate. "Are you sure, my love?" you whispered, your voice laced with worry. "I don't want to hurt you. You're so fragile right now."
He offered a weak, reassuring smile. "You could never hurt me, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a little stronger now, his gaze unwavering. "Just... please. Come here."
Unable to resist, you carefully, painstakingly, eased yourself onto the bed beside him. You positioned yourself so as not to press against his injured side, your arm gently draped over his uninjured one, your head resting carefully on the pillow beside his. The simple act of lying next to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, brought a fresh wave of quiet relief. You gently nuzzled his hair, breathing in his familiar scent.
The comforting silence lasted only a moment before he stirred, his hand finding yours and squeezing it lightly. You looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were serious now, holding a depth of urgency that made your breath catch.
"Y/N," he said, his voice dropping to a low, grave tone, "I... I need to tell you some things. Things that are very important, and very dangerous." He paused, his gaze searching yours, holding it. "Promise me you won't freak out."
You nodded, a silent promise in your eyes as you tightened your hold on his hand. The sudden gravity in his voice, the plea for you not to "freak out," sent a shiver of unease down your spine. You braced yourself, your entire being focused on him, listening intently.
Then, Iceburg began to speak, his voice low and raspy from his injuries, yet imbued with an urgent clarity. He recounted a tale that shattered the familiar landscape of your life in Water 7. He spoke of the blueprints for the Ancient Weapon, Pluto, a devastating power that had been secretly passed down through generations of shipwrights, a burden he had carried alone. He revealed the true identities of those who had attacked him, not the Straw Hats, but cold, calculating assassins from the World Government's secret organization, CP9.
Your breath hitched as he spoke the names: Kaku, the amiable foreman you had just spoken with not so long ago, admired for his skill. Lucci, the stern, quiet foreman you had always found intimidating. And Kalifa... Kalifa, his demure assistant, who had just greeted you politely, whose constant presence near him had always pricked at your insecurities. All of them, traitors. All of them, cold-blooded agents working in the shadows, their friendly faces a monstrous lie.
He explained their relentless pursuit of the blueprints, how he had hidden them, how Franky – your husband's estranged, but still loved, brother – had come into possession of them. The truth unspooled like a dark, tangled rope, each revelation more shocking than the last. The attack on him, the framing of the Straw Hats, the true purpose behind the World Government's interest in Water 7 – it was all laid bare. You lay beside him, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, eyes wide with a mixture of horror, disbelief, and a cold, chilling understanding. The easy warmth of the bed had vanished, replaced by the crushing weight of the secrets he had silently borne.
The days that followed Iceburg’s revelation were a blur of hushed tension and frantic activity within Galley-La. The truth about CP9, about Pluto, about Franky’s crucial role, all weighed heavily on your heart. You spent every moment you could by Iceburg's side, watching him recover, a silent guardian. The city, meanwhile, was in a controlled panic, the blame still squarely on the Straw Hats, fueling the world's perception.
You witnessed the heartbreaking Going Merry with icberg as you fixed as much as you could with him. You even saw it, or felt it, in those quiet moments when the shipwrights worked: a faint, mournful creak that sounded almost like a sigh, a ship giving its last breath. You understood then, even more profoundly, the silent farewell.
Then came the day Iceburg, barely recovered but with a fire in his eyes, announced he was going to Enies Lobby. To find the Straw Hats. Despite your desperate pleas, your tearful arguments about his still-fragile state, he was resolute. "I have to, Y/N," he’d said, holding your face in his hands. "They're innocent. And they're in trouble. I won't let them face this alone." He refused to let you come, his voice firm, "It's too dangerous, my darling. Stay here. Water 7 needs you. I need you to be safe."
The day and a little longer he was gone felt like an eternity. Each passing hour was a torment of worry, imagining the impossible dangers he faced, the brutal confrontation with the very people who had almost taken him from you.
Then, he was back.
The news spread like wildfire through the city. A new ship, magnificent and grand, sailed into Water 7’s port. And there, standing on its deck, perfectly fine, were not only the Straw Hats, but your Iceburg, seemingly whole and hale, his gaze immediately finding yours in the cheering crowd that had gathered.
A cry of pure, unadulterated relief tore from your throat. Without a thought for dignity or the throng of onlookers, you broke into a run, your sundress (now replaced with a fresh one, though its familiar feel remained) billowing behind you. You launched yourself into his arms the moment you reached the dock, burying your face in his chest, clutching him as if you could fuse your very beings together.
"Iceburg! My love, my love!" you sobbed, tears of pure joy and profound relief soaking his shirt. You felt his strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly, a silent reassurance that he was truly here.
As you finally pulled back, still clinging to his hand, your gaze swept over the Straw Hats on the deck. "Luffy! Nami! Sanji! Zoro!" you greeted them, your voice thick with emotion, a grateful smile on your face. You saw a long-nosed young man who could only be Usopp, looking a little overwhelmed but grinning, and a small, adorable reindeer who had to be Chopper. You offered them all a warm, genuine welcome.
Then your eyes landed on her. Robin. She stood quietly, a serene expression on her face, her eyes meeting yours. You felt a confusing tug in your chest. You knew that she hadn't attacked Iceburg on her own free will, that she was wrongly forced. You had chosen to believe your husband and your instincts over the city's fury. Yet, the initial accusation, the image of her being responsible for Iceburg's near death, still lingered like a faint, unsettling shadow in your mind. You offered her a polite, cautious nod, your smile not quite as open as it had been for the others. The uncertainty still swirled around her, a quiet, unresolved question mark in your heart.
#water 7#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#reader insert#straw hat pirates#straw hats#straw hats x reader#iceburg#Iceburg x reader#going merry
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hi lol i just wanted to share my success stories to motivate others 🩷
so for starters two years ago i was in college and absolutely MISERABLE. I was in my all time low episode. You can imagine-
Then during christmas break I snapped. I was like, enough is enough. I took a gap year, found a job I wanted to do. Problem was that for this job they are generally looking for confident extroverted people. I was neither of those things.
But all through that time I was like “This is a new chapter. It doesn’t matter how I was before. Nobody knows it here.” I got hired.
This once success changed my whole mindset. I truly started believing that I have the power to change my life for the first time. That not everything is written ahead and I can’t change it.
Next examples:
I really wanted to go to this big ass concert in my country in summer. I know people who sometimes can get me tickets for free but they said they don’t know this organizator so it’s not possible. Did that stop me? Hell no-
In the next month before the concert anytime I thought about it, I considered it done. I was telling people I’m going already. A week before I got a message I got two VIP tickets ready.
Then my job contract ended in october. The managment told us they’d take us back for summer. But that’d be around may the soonest. Again, I was already telling people I’m going back as soon as I ended there. In my mind there was literally no other way my life could even go.
A week into november I got a call I’m starting in january, which was literally a dream for me. I had money aside and I also had a ton of plans in winter with my friends so I had the time to do them all. For the next two months I was partying and going to concers.
Now back in job I learned we are going for layover trips. Basically they send you somewhere for a week or so. Nice sunny country with a pretty paid for hotel. But once again- the older colleagues were insistent that as someone new I won’t get there at all, that I have no chance.
Oh boy- in one month I was in 3 destinations. Tanning, swimming, shopping. One of those (the longest one) I actually got to spend with probably my favorite homegirl at work.
At this point I didn’t even try to manifest it, I was just like “yeah, bet!” to all the people who told me I’ll be sitting at home on my ass.
The last example is just me having plans that I refuse to cancel (another concert actually 🤭) and another of those working abroad things. First of all, this trip is for 2 weeks with ROYAL payment, so ofc I did not want to give it up. But it looked like it’s gonna be at the time of the concert.
Before our new schedule came out, I was just thinking how that’s just NOT happening. Like ain’t no way. I’ll be going to that destination and absolutely will be home at the time of the concert. It will somehow work out.
It did.
“It will somehow work out.”
This sentence basically sums up my whole mindset. I don’t overthink it. “How is it gonna work?” I just let the universe figure it out for me. I just know it will be in my favor.
I tried manifesting before when I was at school. But my problem was that I always worried HOW it’s gonna work out. I was overthinking, trying to desperately do the mental gymnastics of how those unreal things will happen.
The moment I stopped this, simply shrugged and went about my day, those things started to happen.
Hope this motivates yall and helps you stop obsessing if you do. 🩷
"anytime I thought about it, I considered it done." ARE YALL LISTENING OR???? THAT'S HOW YOU GET ANY AND EVERYTHING OMG . I love this so much for you babes. You never have to sit down and worry about how it's gonna happen. You sit down and think about how it already worked out for you bc literally everything does. You better come back and keep updating us babes.
#anon ask#itsrlymine#law of assumption#imagination is reality#success story#loa success#loa success story#manifesting success#loa tumblr#lawofassumption#manifesting#loassumption
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Pumpkin Patch
Sylus x gn!Reader
Inspired by my going to a pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins today and yesterday. I am soooo sore, BUT I made a kitty pumpkin and it's so fuckin cuteee
Warnings: pumpkin carving, fluff, cuddling, Halloween, sleepy Sylus, soft Sylus, established relationship
Word Count: 2,172
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
Sylus normally doesn’t get up during the day. Usually, on any other day, he’d sleep all the way through from dawn until dusk. If he woke up at all, he’d use that time to check up on you, diurnal creature that you are.
This is “late” for him. It’s mid-morning, the sun is closer to its peak than the horizon, and you’re bouncing around like a 3-year-old that just raided a candy store.
You’d insisted on going to a pumpkin patch. The issue with that is the hours they’re usually open. As he turns into the lot, parking his nice (very expensive) car on the grass, watching you already starting to unbuckle your seatbelt, he thinks ruining his sleep schedule just a bit is worth it.
You hold his hand like a tether as you practically skip all the way down the driveway. At the end, on the left, is a big red barn, side doors open wide to welcome guests into a small shop. Cider, candles, donuts and more sit along wooden shelves, waiting to be bought. But to the right…
“Sy, look at them all!” You gape at the array of bright orange gourds in front of you. Big, medium, small - even a couple huge ones that he could sit inside of if they were hollowed. You suddenly look at him, a bright smile tearing at your face and stars dancing in your eyes. “I never asked! Have you ever carved a pumpkin before?”
It’s a miracle you’re not letting him go to run ahead into the field. Other couples trail along, searching for that one perfect pumpkin. A small family is taking photos of their dressed-up child among the hay bales. One person is looking at the huge ones with the eye of a sculpture artist.
He shakes his head, his own smile accompanying yours. “No. I don’t think we have anything like it in the N109 Zone.”
“Really? Do you have Halloween?”
He chuckles. “It would be a funny place if we started handing out free candy for one night of the year.” He tilted his head and raised a brow at you. “Besides, do you really want kids running around unsupervised?”
You huff, face wrinkling into a cute grimace. “Most kids who trick-or-treat aren’t unsupervised,” you retort. Your face softens as you reach the edge of the field. “But I guess you’re right. Oh!” You tug on his arm excitedly. “You should spend Halloween with me! We can watch scary movies and dress up and give out candy to the kids!”
A warmth seeps into his chest. You’d never allowed him to visit your apartment in Linkon City. You were always so scared of someone recognizing him, of being caught in this little game. To offer so freely now, and with this much enthusiasm, how can he refuse?
“Alright,” he agrees. “I’ll spend the holiday with you. Now pick out your pumpkin.”
“You gotta pick one out, too!”
“I will, sweetie.”
You let go of his hand to weave and wind your way through the patch. Pumpkins of all shapes surround him as he follows, scanning each gourd with a discerning eye. He vaguely understood the concept; pick a pumpkin, carve a face or design into it, and leave it out on the front step with lights inside. It was strange, to be sure. He couldn’t, as of yet, understand the appeal.
When he looks around at the people, they’re just like you: bouncing around, grinning from ear to ear just thinking about what they’ll carve. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think there was some reward or prize involved. But there wasn’t. As far as indulgences go, it’s one he can’t fully grasp yet.
You gasp as you run ahead toward a pumpkin. It was bright orange with shallow grooves, almost perfectly round, and with a stem twisting out of the top. You pick it up, turning it this way and that. “Look how perfect this one is, Sy! What do you think?” You turn to him, holding it for him to see.
“It’s a bit big for you, don’t you think, kitten?” he teases.
“Hush, I think it’s the perfect size for my design.” You swat at his chest, but he doesn’t even flinch at the contact. Instead, he holds out his arm so he can carry it for you. While it’s not the heaviest pumpkin in the patch, you do struggle with the heft. He doesn’t struggle at all as he cradles it in one arm.
“What are you going to carve into it?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You smile mischievously up at him.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I look forward to it.” He turns his attention back to the array before him. You hold his free hand as he continues his search.
It’s minutes later when his eyes catch sight of a smaller pumpkin. It’s gumdrop shaped, with a shorter stem. He isn’t sure what draws him to it, but he points it out to you and you pick it up.
“Awe, it’s so cute! I thought you’d go for one of the big ones for sure.” You spin it by its small stem to look at all its sides. The grooves are mostly shallow, with some running deeper than others. It’s also not perfectly orange like yours is. It’s instead more yellow toward the top.
“I should start small for my first pumpkin, no? I’m not an expert like you yet.”
You laugh, tucking the light-weight pumpkin into your own arm to carry as he leads you back towards the barn. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as I, the Pumpkin Carving Master. I’ve had years of experience - you gotta lot of catching up to do.”
“You sound confident,” he says. “Maybe you’d like to put a little wager on whose pumpkin turns out better?”
“And who would be judging this competition?”
“Luke and Kieran, of course.”
“Ha! They’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”
“Do you know any other impartial judges?”
You think for a minute. All of your friends are hunters, and they’d probably feel bad choosing someone else’s work over yours, friendly competition or not. You shake your head. “Not anybody that wouldn’t turn you in.” You nudge him with your elbow. “We can always hold the competition next year. Oh! We can do us versus the twins! And then have the quote-unquote ‘impartial’ chef decide the winners.”
He chuckles warmly. “I like the way you think, kitten.”
“I know,” you chime back, grinning wickedly at your own devious little plan.
-
Sylus drives you back to the N109 Zone. It’s too risky to go back to your apartment right now, what with all the hunters that live there. It’ll be safer when it’s dark, perfect for Halloween night.
He helps you cover the coffee table in the living room with plastic trash bags to catch the guts and bits of pumpkin that will undoubtedly end up on the floor and couch anyway. You open up the cases of carving tools you got from the barn, setting out two scoops and a series of serrated knives for you both. He sets out a few toothpicks, telling you not to worry about them as he smirks all too knowingly. A familiar Halloween favorite plays on the large TV as you get started.
You show him how to cut open the pumpkin and gut it. He grimaces at the slippery, squishy innards as he pulls them out, causing you to laugh.
With a sharpie, you draw out the design you want to carve. You may or may not have found a reference for it online, while he seems to have gone in completely blind. You’re curious to know just what he’s making, but you hold back. It’ll be more fun to show them to each other after the fact.
Very few words are exchanged the longer you work. The movie fills up most of the quiet. Sometimes, you both make little jokes or commentary, but you become quite content to just sit in the moment with him. You can also understand that he’s not used to being awake at this hour. He might be too tired to keep up a conversation, so you don’t push.
“Sylus, what do you-” You quickly cut yourself off when you turn to see him.
He’s sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, resting deep in the couch cushions, head tilted back so his face is to the ceiling. His chest rises and falls slowly, quiet breaths you’d completely missed over the sound of the movie. You reach over and carefully turn it down a few ticks.
When you set the remote down, however, you notice his pumpkin sitting on the table. It seems finished, as far as you can tell. Unable to wait any longer for the reveal, you turn his pumpkin to face you.
Slanted triangle eyes with an upside down triangle nose, and a wide mouth with two little fangs. The triangles from the eyes have been repurposed with the help of the toothpicks to form ears at the top of the pumpkin. He’d even carefully cut away the orange outer layer of the pumpkin to accentuate the fangs. It was a cute little kitty. You can’t fight the smile that lights up your face as you take in Sylus’s first ever jack o'lantern.
“You’re making the same expression.”
You gasp and turn to see Sylus, no longer with his head leaned back, and with a sleep-softened smirk. You’d been so caught up in his pumpkin that you didn’t realize when he’d woken up. His red eyes shift from you to your own pumpkin. He chuckles.
“Is that me?”
Your own jack o’lantern was a classic: sharp eyes and a jagged smile full of pointed teeth. You laugh. “No, it’s not you.” You turn both of the pumpkin faces to look at you both, before leaning back into the couch next to him. His arm automatically wraps around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “I don’t see you like that anymore.”
He hums noncommittally. How you two met remains an unspoken stain on your unusual relationship. He was scary and intense, so damn determined for you to Resonate with him that he hadn’t cared about anything else. He’s spent every day since making it up to you.
“Is that me?” you ask, pointing to his cat carving, steering you both away from that time.
He nods. “Of course it is, kitten. That’s the face you make when you’ve come up with a mischievous scheme. The resemblance is uncanny.”
You chuckle. “We can set them out later. But right now…” You pull away from his side, drawing a disappointed sigh from the man. He watches as you slide down to the other armrest, leaning your back against it and making sure the TV remote is within reach. You pat your chest. “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”
He huffs a soft laugh. “I wonder whose fault that is,” he teases. Still, he’s all too happy to accept your offer, stretching himself out like a sleepy cat until his body covers yours, his head resting on your chest. His arms slide between your body and the couch until they’re wrapped securely around you. You pull the blanket off the back of the couch - one of your own additions after coming and going so often - and drape it over the both of you.
“Comfy?” You comb your fingers gently through his hair. It’s always softer than you expect, gliding through your fingers easily as you scratch along his scalp.
He groans against your shirt. “It’s perfect, kitten,” he murmurs. His eyes are already shut. He’s certain now that they won’t open again until midnight. With his ear so close to your chest, he can hear your heart beating clearer than ever, mixing with the movie in the background to create a lullaby that eases all the pent up tension in his muscles. “This was fun,” he admits, voice so quiet you almost don’t hear him. “I look forward to the competition next year.”
Your fingers scrape along the nape of his neck, sending chills down his body. You grin at the power you hold. The way he so naturally responds to your touch is addicting, a power you will find a way to abuse when he wakes up. But for now, you use your newfound skills to massage the strain in his neck away and play with his hair. “I think yours won this time,” you comment.
He grins. “What do I win?”
You pretend to think. “A kiss.”
He chuckles, a darker twinge of possessiveness staining the sound. “Be careful when offering yourself up as a reward, kitten. You don’t know just how much I’ll collect.”
“Well, you can collect when you wake up. Deal?”
He squeezes you a smidge tighter in his embrace, pressing his face into your neck as he lets out a long sigh. “Deal.”
---
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Thu 4/10/2025 - Sat 4/19/2025 I've now visited three G7 countries. Yes that means exactly what you think it does: we just got back from Italy! Some NOLA friends that we traveled to Ireland with back in 2019 wanted to do another international trip and invited us along over their Spring Break week, which just happened to fall right before Easter during a Jubilee year in the Catholic calendar. I was afraid of a perfect storm of unmanageable crowds, but everything ended up working out and we had a great time. More under the cut.
Italy is six hours ahead of EST, so I tried pre-emptively adjusting my sleep schedule before the trip. The day of our departing flight I woke up at 4:30 AM (10:30 AM Italy time), hoping that by the time our overnight flight took off I'd be tired enough to just sleep on the plane. Turns out, my body still refuses to relax while airborne, so when we landed I'd been awake for 20 hours and the whole experiment kinda backfired. The first day in Rome was kinda rough.
The train from FCO airport into Rome's main Termini rail station was supernaturally smooth and silent; I wasn't even really aware we were moving at first.
I've been to dozens of old European churches and cathedrals at this point, but Saint Peter's in the Vatican City really caught me off-guard. Even from just a structural standpoint I wasn't aware it was possible to build a church that large. The ceilings were so high it felt like the building had its own atmosphere.
One evening in Rome we were getting dinner in some hole-in-the-wall place when a gaggle of about two dozen Italian gay men came in and took up half the place. Eventually one of them stood up to give a speech (I'm like 99% sure it was his birthday and he was thanking all his friends for coming out for a get-together), but he made a joke that he said too quickly for me to translate in my head and both tables turned to all make eye contact with me and smile. I just kinda awkwardly smiled back with a raised eyebrow before they laughed and continued on. I just hope it was something raunchy.
That same night walking back to the hotel we got stuck behind a slow-walking British couple. The older man loudly ripped ass and turned back to my buddy walking behind him with a grin before apologizing: "Sorry, I thought you were my friend." We sped past and kept laughing about that interaction for the rest of the trip.
When we were trying to get into the Roman Forum ruins we witnessed a Category Five Karen Moment as some American(?) woman was shouting at worker who pointed a finger in her face and told her not to cut the line. Also when we were going through the security checkpoint the guy who was supposed to be scanning my backpack with an x-ray instead maintained eye contact with me the entire time before letting me in with no comment.
We unintentionally stumbled upon a dress rehearsal for a classical music concert in a beautiful church off of the Piazza Navona. The upright bassist and the conductor were NOT on the same wavelength, but once they got past some hiccups in the beginning it sounded really nice.
In the Palazzo Venezia (it's located in Rome, but has that name because that's where Venetian officials would stay when it was a sovereign entity), there's a central courtyard with a bunch of orange trees that were bearing fruit. I wanted one, but there were a bunch of signs saying not to touch the trees. I guess it was super obvious that I was just waiting for the museum staff to meander out of sight, because this older tourist couple was just blatantly watching me to see what I would do.
Anyways, the orange was delicious and perfectly ripe.
One of the stops I was most excited for on this trip was a small town called Civita di Bagnoregio that's kind of out of the way. It's built on a small mountainous outcropping in the middle of a valley with a very steep approach that can only be done on foot. When we first caught sight of it, everyone else was like, "Mike, what the fuck are you about to make us do…" I was definitely winded by the time we got up there, but even with all the ribbing I was getting it was worth it.
When we got into Siena super late and I asked the hotel staff how to get to their parking lot at the rear of their building, the guy at the front was basically like, "it's super confusing, just let me come with you." So he hopped in the front passenger seat and guided me, and to his credit it was kind of a convoluted path that I don't think I would've been able to follow with just verbal instructions even in English. But he did try making a joke along the lines of "If you're going to hit a pedestrian with your car, you need to just run over everyone on the street so there are no witnesses," that struck me as being in poor taste.
I was expecting Rome to feel like a more modern city that had old stuff interspersed here and there and that Florence would feel more like an open air museum where the locals were held prisoner by the past. It was the exact opposite. Where Rome gave the impression that 21-st century citizens were squished between historic monuments, Florence came off as more or less contemporary with current-day stores and international businesses that I recognize, while also being proud of their Renaissance legacy.
I don't really drink alcohol at all, but my buddy signed us up to a wine tasting in Florence where we sampled three whites, three reds, and a bonus "mystery" wine. I told the guy conducting it that I'd try, but I wasn't going to like anything, and he took that as a challenge. The only one that I could describe as "not bad" was the mystery one, which was the only one that wasn't an Italian wine (a French Sauvignon blanc), and I think he was a little miffed about that.
The same guy also said I looked like Jake Gyllenhaal. I guess he told his coworkers about it, because one of the staff came out, thought she was being slick by side-eyeing me while I was clearly watching her, and then she turned back to the kitchen nodding her head affirmatively.
Towards the end of the trip we were all getting tired of having Italian for every meal, so we stopped in a McDonald's somewhere just outside of Verona. The place was absolutely packed with locals and it tasted identical to what you could get back in the States.
We saw tons of dogs (as pets, not strays) in every city, but Milan had the most by a lot.
Overall, people were way more receptive to foreigners speaking the local language than I experienced in the Netherlands, which was my last international trip. In Rome and Florence maybe they'd be a little quicker to switch to English if they saw that I was struggling, but in Venice specifically I noticed everyone would continue in Italian if I kept trying, which I appreciated. Definitely felt like my time spent language studying before this trip was more rewarded than the last time.
Times my fear of heights scared me (9): Castel Sant'Angelo, the Roman Forum, Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II, Civita di Bagnoregio, Duomo di Firenze, Campanile di Giotto, Campanile di San Marco, Castello Sforzesco, Duomo di Milano
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We did it!
No 24 hours, but fucking crushed HBGs record axolotl-less which was sub 30 and still got WR after 3 hours of 3 people doing nothing but breeding the blue bastards. Total breeds over 5000, median is like 700 or 800.
I had a great experience. The early game plan was so good, the gunpowder farm with Molly and Shoe went so smooth and finished ahead of schedule. Wither skeleton farm had a couple hiccups due to me forgetting to bring two items but we built it right and we built it on time and that's all that matters, thanks to Pocky and to Shoe again for helping to knock that out.
Mobs after that mostly with TJ, hardest part of the run and definitely the longest. I meant to take a break and sleep here and didn't. There were some mistakes made with mob death and lack of organization but mostly I just think all that stuff is a lot. I know TJ got really down that it wasn't fast enough and so am I. I have a lot of thoughts about it, my performance, mistakes and experience, organization and plans and who does what. I don't know. Bottom line is it's a lot.
Server held up great and I could fly the early mobs to the sh from the surrounding area, unfortunately couldn't fly them later on the nether roof due to lag breaking the leads but it was still so much better than last time. Bobby mod was great and TalkingMime loaning the server ahead of HBGs own attempt later this month was really nice, appreciate it.
Everybody got kind of down late in the run after it was obvious 24 hours wasn't happening there was a lot left and not a lot of people to do it. People needed to sleep. It ended up with me, Wonderfulegg and somebody else I think Molly was there at one point? trying to figure out if HDWGH was going to happen or if we had to give up. I was so tired. I was the only person there who ever did HDWGH in their life and I did it in this version once a year ago. I couldn't find the tutorial I used. The setup that somebody started by spawn wasn't going to work for the only version of it that I know. The beacon was in the end, I didn't know where the ingredients for everything were, I thought I did my 1.21 bac run on a different PC and that I wouldn't be able to find the recording. Plus the idea that I can do it correctly with how tired I am is so incredibly dubious. But no like my brain finally unfogs enough to remember it was the same PC and I find the world download and look at that, and I have the setup geometry, it's now possible. So I have to do it. Wonderfulegg gets Zesskyo on who was supposed to have joined the run but had something come up at the last minute. So Zesskyo unlike the rest of us is wide awake and full of energy. And zesskyo does know HDWGH though not in this version. I have the beacon set up by this point. Somebody finds a conduit. I drag over a villager from base. We move the shulker and the dolphin. I spend probably 30 fucking minutes during all of this explaining the whole HDWGH sequence to Zesskyo, who has done it before but not in this version. This 30 minutes has nothing to do with Zesskyo and everything to do with me and my sleep deprived brain, I have no fucking idea what I'm saying or what I've said and I repeat everythign about 40 times because I think I got it out of order or missed something the previous time and I probably did.
I show Zesskyo the raid and trial chamber locations, Wonderfulegg flies around with a riptide trident to locate a monument where the elder guardians aren't dead. Wonderfulegg finds all the potion ingredients and consumables and makes the potions. Zesskyo goes off to do the thing. Zesskyo hits the fucking advancement on the first try.
We're so back! At this point not counting blue axolotl there's like 10 random advancements left. I pick the two that are the most brainless and spend like 20 minutes doing five minutes of tasks because I'm that fucking tired. Its like whatever. Who cares at this point. Jilian's back and I think somebody else is too and they all knock off the rest. So it's just the axolotl now. I try to join them on the breeding but I give up and go to sleep when I realize I'm just staring at the axolotls and not doing anything. So the other three people there who I think are Jillian, Wondefulegg and Zesskyo breed axolotls for three more hours and they get it.
Thank you to TJ and Jillian for letting me be part of this again. Thank you to Molly, Shoe, Pocky, TJ, Wonderfulegg and Zesskyo for being so great to work with. Thank you to Jillian for providing the push to not give up. Thank you to everybody else who took part and got stuff done. You're all fantastic.
We did it!
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———
Will is good at making decisions.
It’s one of the only things he’s good at, actually. He can’t fight. He can’t control water or lightning or plants. He’s not as smart as Athena’s kids or as charming as Aphrodite’s. He is clumsy and soft-hearted and stubborn. But he is observant, he always has been, and he prides himself in his ability to think ahead. He keeps his infirmary stocked and his siblings on schedule. He reigns in head counsellor meetings and draws up binders and binders of files and projects — he is organised. He watches, he notices, he reflects, he prepares. He’s as impulsive as the rest of them, sure, but he has enough contingencies in place that he’s solid. A solid head on his shoulders, and he knows it — the head medic must.
So when he watches himself, horrified, diverge from his very detailed twenty-nine step process entitled The di Angelo Dilemma: Approaching Friendship like a Normal Person and ask Nico to come over, he considers the possibility that he has been possessed. Maybe the eidolons that fucked everything up the first time around have been crouching in dark corners, patiently awaiting the perfect time to strike and ruin Will’s life.
“See you then,” says Nico, rushing out the door, and Will smiles at him easily, watching him dash across the common, and then he sets aside the folder he’s updating, walks calmly out of the empty infirmary, nodding to Mr. D. as he passes, turns a corner in the hallway, slips into his favourite supply closet, sticks a chair under the door handle, clears his throat, and screams.
It’s one of those good screams, by design; he takes a good deep breath beforehand and lets the sound billow out of him, lets it scrape the sides of his throat raw and reverberate somewhere in the base of his skull. Were he not home in a camp that regularly makes use of lethal weaponry and deadly rivalry, entire armies would come running to his defense. As it is, he is left to fall to his knees and scream until he is hoarse, or until he hears a faint will you shut the fuck up! echo from around the vegetable gardens.
“Why me,” he croaks, giving in and collapsing to the floor.
It’s a nice floor, really. In between breakdowns he returns and decorates the place, sweeping up the dust and covering floors and surfaces with rugs and throw pillows. A guitar leans in the far corner for when his mother is thousands of miles away and he’s feeling sorry for himself. A photo album lives half-shoved under a shelf for when he is in need of punishing. His sketchbook remains in a constant state of almost-full under the one dusty window. (That one carries slightly less general despair.)
He is, upon reflection, somewhat of a disastrous person.
How fitting.
“Ugh,” he says out loud, to himself, and reaches for his guitar.
He has no intention of playing anything worthwhile. In fact he doesn’t even bother tuning it, not that he can very well anyway, and just strums random chords and riffs and yells over a string of flat discortants, at one point, filling the tiny room with noise ontop of noise ontop of noise until everything is gleefully stifling, like a mass of birds clouding the sun, like the thirteenth year of swarming cicadas, like the twentieth layer of July Texan heat. Until the mess is transferred from inside of his head to outside of it. Until he has committed so many musical sins that his father retreats from the sky a full forty minutes early.
“I feel you are at fault,” says Kayla, when he finally returns to their cabin. “For.” She gestures vaguely at The Outdoors.
“Hnnngh,” responds Will, taking three steps and tipping, gracelessly, onto Austin’s bunk, nearly bouncing right off of it. He catches himself, barely, and presses hard into the pillow, curling when his brother makes space for him, when his sister sighs, deliberately loud, and presses her knee into his thigh as she climbs up, too.
“This is your own fault,” Kayla grumbles. Her bony shoulders settle along the dips of his ribs, next to Austin’s thin ankles. “You could talk about things before they blow up in your face, but nooooooo. You run around doing everything yourself. Moron.”
Will swipes the heel of his hand under his eyes, throat garbling a weird snort-laugh-sniffle. Those bony shoulders tip to the side, slowly, until she curls under his chin, dragging Austin down with her. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Sh-h,” Austin says, patting blindly until his palm finds Will’s face, then patting deliberately. His knees press against Will’s, now, forehead inches away, barely clinging onto the too-narrow mattress. “Quiet town now. Reflect in your foolishness.”
“So mean.”
Years ago, exactly how many Will refuses to count, this exact scenario would be met by lots and lots of teasing, by pinched cheeks and cuffed shoulders and a forehead kissed several times over. There would be at least six instruments played at once, a camera flash the second he walked in the door pouting, and more lights on that would ever be necessary. An oft-repeated and never-resolved debate, probably; you coddle him, Cass; oh, shut up, Michael, he’s little. The scent of woodgrain and antiseptic and vanilla. A thousand other details he never thought to memorize.
Now there is quiet, or at least more of it.
Kayla hums, notes muffled as she gnaws on her lip, and Austin’s socked feet tap against the blankets, mapping out the tune playing out in his far-away eyes. The last final glow of the horizon turns red, then orange, then violet, sinking into dark navy blue, and their aunt blinks her way into focus, stretching widely across the thin wisping clouds. The fairy lights wrapped around the pillars and ceiling beams blink alongside the stars, chatting away to each other, and the breeze from the window is soft and warm and almost as sweet as southern jasmine. There is a pit in the dead centre of Will’s chest, and he is afraid Kayla will fall into it, and then Austin; afraid they will succumb to his gaping maw.
“What if I ruin absolutely everything,” he says. He swallows, and then again, and again, because his throat is dry, escape for the burning trails mapping the his face from corner of his eye to mouth. “What if I — scare. Am. What if I’m the reason, again.”
Diana snorts. You are such a drama queen.
And that’s coming from this theatre, Lee adds, gesturing grandly to the gold pillars of the cabin. You’ll be fine, kid.
A chorus of agreements from the rest of the occupied bunks; Kate’s encouraging grin, Leanna’s fond hair ruffle as she dances past, Amir’s wink.
Will smiles and blinks back and he is gone, and Michael’s scowl disappears, and Kate and Phoebe’s laughter fades from the background. The cabin is quiet, shadowy; Austin and Kayla breathe quietly, swallow silently.
“I don’t know,” Kayla admits. “You — could be. Again.”
Will squeezes his eyes shut. He begs for Lee to go back to his sleep for the night. He inhales around the shake and inhales and inhales and inhales and feels the vacuum dead centre in his body, like from navel to spin, twisting, tubing, sucking; take, take, take, take. Can I, can I, can I. I want. Please. Let me have.
“I’m not sure it’s better not to try, though.” Austin’s hands curl around Will’s palm. “Right? You always say to — try. Do your best.”
A smile curls up the corner of Will’s mouth.
“I do.”
“And you did try.”
“I did.”
“Did it fail?”
Will flicks down to meet Kayla’s eyes, squinting one and tucking his chin.
“I asked to come over.”
“Oh, well — okay, Marilyn Monroe. Like that’s a new thing.”
“For no reason.”
“…Oh.”
“I could go on the sand rant, Kayla. I’m like a sleeper agent. As soon as he says it, I’ll — you know.”
Austin shifts, frowning thoughtfully. “I mean, he kind of already knows you’re weird.”
“Not this weird!”
“I think everyone knows you’re weird, actually,” Kayla adds. She wiggles, squirming and elbowing until she is half-perched on the fleshy part of Will’s waist, ignoring his wheezing. “Being a nerd dork loser is kind of your whole thing.”
“It is not!”
“You have binders dedicated to people, Will.”
“That’s not bad!”
“Specifically on how to best socialize with them, Will.”
“That’s — thoughtful!”
“…Sometimes being related to you is hard.”
“I am! Collecting data! To better my relationships! What is the issue!”
Austin and Kayla exchange a meaningful look — which does not, Will is relatively certain, usually involve putting your entire palm on your brother’s face and shoving it so it cannot be seen. Kayla.
“You’re doomed to fail,” they decide. And then they kick him off the bed, which is rude, but he is weak to their giggling, and it’s bedtime for them, anyways.
As per his carefully outlined routine they are sent to the showers and sinks, back in half an hour, bickering. As per his less carefully outlined but nonetheless regularly present routine they are separated physically from each other and shoved to seperate bunks. As per his most carefully outlined routine, he follows them each, ignoring their complaints, and presses the back of his hand to each forehead, closing his eyes as he lets his life force bleed into theirs, mixing, checking, making sure.
“We’re fine,” Kayla grumbles.
“Shut up and cough,” Will orders.
Austin gives him less trouble. Will makes a show of thanking him for it. Kayla throws her extra pillow. Will takes it, placing it on his own bed. It is silent after he says goodnight, silent as he clicks off the light, gathers his caddy, pads to the door.
“Goodnight,” whispers a voice, half hidden by the creak of the screen door as he opens it.
“Goodnight,” whispers another, half hidden by the cream of the screen door as he closes it.
“Goodnight,” Will repeats, grinning. “Sleep well, kiddos.”
They grumble, and their bedsprings groan as they turn away, mimicking the grate of the rickety porch steps. That, at least, is familiar; that at least matches the echoes that bounce around the walls of the cabin and the inside of his skull.
———
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#i never stop thinking about cabin 7 fr#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#will solace#will solace angst#will solace & kayla knowles#will solace & austin lake#will solace & austin lake & kayla knowles#apollo kids#solangelo#pining will solace#my writing#fic#longpost#autistic will solace
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CHAPTER Ⅱ: MITSKI & MONDAYS

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okay so maybe you were already nervous about the first day of your new school.
and maybe listening to your depressing playlist at 7 in the morning wasn't helping that.
but mitski can help calm your nervs to! but with yuji blasting his music in his room right across the hall, it didn't necessarily get the mood right anyways.
"yn, hurry up! we gotta go in like—two minutes!"
"im coming!!"
you reply, grabbing your backpack. you hopped through your messy floor, clothes spattered out from your unpacked suitcase.
you ran down the stairs, seeing yuji sitting on the floor next to the front door and sukuna rummaging through the upper cabinets of the kitchen.
"here, take these for the walk."
you don't have enough time to fully comprehend what your uncle's saying before a protein bar is being flowed full force at your face—though thankfully you throw your hands up and catch it in the air. you throw the second one to yuji, who instantly unwraps it and starts eating it.
"first day—tough shit. todays when you make first impressions on everyone. good luck."
"oh, uhm—thanks?"
you reply, raising a eyebrow at sukuna's comment. he was being nice—maybe? you couldn't really tell. but before you get to decide yuji announces its time to get going so you wave a quick goodbye to your uncle as you walk outside.
"don't worry, its not a long walk—only like ten minutes give or take."
yuji says, taking out an airpod so he could hear. you nod, opening your phone to make sure you have your schedule for the third time today.
yuji was right, after about 15 minutes you arrive at school. you bite the inside of your lip slightly, a nervous habit you picked up over the years.
"so, were still early, me and my friends always come a bit early 'cause we like to hang before classes and—"
yuji starts, but before he finishes his sentence someone comes rushing from behind the two of you.
"yuji, yn! hey!"
you look behind you at the girl waving. she had dyed orange hair, nobara!
"nobara! there you are!"
"sorry, i know we usually walk to school together but i woke up late—anyways, hi yn!"
nobara replys, walking up to stand in the middle of you and yuji. she smiles as she grabs both of your arms—starting to walk into school.
"its so nice to have another girl in the group, y'know. it's just me and maki, and she dosen't really like shopping so she never goes with me. sometimes panda or toge come but like barley ever 'cause their always 'busy'—"
wow, you only really met her yesterday and she was already talking to you like you were close friends. you smiled, at least meeting yuji's friends was off to a good start then.
nobara countined talking untill you three reached the bustling cafeteria, her and yuji seemed to look around for a moment—trying to find their other friends. then yuji's eyes open a little wide and he points to the back of the cafeteria.
"there they are, let's go!"
he says, practically dragging you through the crowds of tables. nobara had already ran ahead, running to go grab a chair and sit down.
once you finnaly approached the table you looked up to five sets of eyes directly on you.
your mouth starts to turn into an awkward smile as you look around the table trying to deicde what to say, but thankfully for you, yuji most of the time knows how you feel.
"everyone, this is yn!"
he grabs your shoulders, presenting you to the group in a way before laughing. he moves his arms to point—starting at the two at the end of the table.
"yn, this is panda and toge! them, maki, and yuta are all a year older then us. but trust me, you can't tell with these two."
he giggles, his joke resulting in the white haired boy giving your brother a small "hey!" and turning to face you.
"you don't look to much like yuji, you should've ate him in the womb honestly."
panda laughs in response to that, an you can't help but laugh aswell.
"ha-ha, sooo funny guys."
yuji responds, rolling his brown eyes. he points to the two in the chairs next to them.
"those two there are yuta and maki! my favoire girlboss and her malewife-"
"shut up yuji."
the girl with the black hair and glasses replies, standing up and slamming her hands on the table annoyed.
she did look oddly familiar though...did you know her from somewhere?
she notices your confused look at her and raises an eyebrow, as if to ask if you have something to say. nobara wasn't kidding when she said she was intimating.
"sorry, you just look awfully familiar—that's all!"
"hm, you went to the boarding school north from here right?"
you nod in response, wondering what she's getting at. maybe you went to school with her?
"you must know mai. she goes there."
oh it clicks into place, shes related to mai. you didn't know mai all that well, but you did know she was mean. they must be twins, hopefully maki isn't anything like her sister.
"don't worry, im not like her—she's an asshole."
you let out a small sigh of relief. thank god. you turn your eyes to the one person who you haven't met yet. he was sitting at the other end of the table, on his phone. nobara was next to him—she was saying something but he didn't seem to be listening. you reconized him from a couple of yuji's instagram posts, but you didn't remember his name. he looked tired and like he didn't want to be there—which made you wonder why he seemed to hang out with them.
"oh yeah, yn—this is megumi! he's in our grade."
nobara says, as yuji sits down on the table next to him. was this the other best friend yuji had mentioned before? he seemed pretty annyoed as he took off his headphones.
"uh, nice to meet you!"
you say, giving him a small smile. he didn't seem all that interested in talking.
"nice to meet you."
"sorry, he totally puts up this whole 'mysterious and nonchalant' vibe around people—he's not even-"
"shut up, yuji."
nobara was in the middle of doing something with her phone as she spoke up.
"here yn, i added you to our group chat. check it after class m'kay?"
you responded with an agreement, as the bell rang for you to head to your class.

BACKGROUND INFO: - nobara, yuji, toge, panda and maki all met in middle school, megumi later moved into town and became friends with yuji—who added him to their friendgroup - yuta moved last year, and he became friends with maki (and then the rest of the group), are him & maki dating? who knows! i don't think they know either LMFAO - there will be more of each character! i just wanted to get quick character intros
A/N: i'll try to have chapter 3 out by this weekend! again sorry if anythings ooc or if my grammer sucks ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

TAGLIST: (ask 2 be added) @1ndee @4ngelfries @jammofsammichflip @notveevee @qtnfer @love-me-satoru @satoryaa @loriisheart @starrnai if the tag dosen't work, change ur settings pls !

#jjk#essposts#aigtphs ᡣ𐭩#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jjk smau#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen au#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#yuji itadori#nobara kugisaki#megumi fushiguro#maki zenin#inumaki toge#yuta okkotsu#panda#jjk au#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#megumi x you
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The weird and the unhinged
a guide to the stuff that got me through med school
Believe it or not but studying between 6 and 10 hours a day, 6 days a week for two years straight, taking a grand total of maybe 5 weeks off during that time and balancing all that with hospital placement sometimes require a bit of creativity to get the synapses to connect.
When I was studying for the entrance exam I had this very fancy classical music playlist that lasted 12 ou 13 hours so I could listen to it everyday on repeat and I really did romantise the days spent at my desk. Naturally, I tried to defrost that approach when I was studying for the specialty exam.
It didn’t work. Chopin couldn’t bring me to focus, neither could Dvorak nor could Desplat. The spell was broken.
So I leaned into more unconventional ways to set the tone.
1. The candle timer
At one point my brain figured the pomodoro timer was an arbitrary rule and that we could be done whenever we wanted. That’s when the. Candle timer came in.
For that trick you’ll need a huge ass candle, I used the big Yankee Candle jar and on a couple of occasions some church candles, the only thing is that they must take a long time to burn. Then I marked off where they had to burn before I could snuff them out. That’s where the jars are nice because if you blow them before the wax melts to the edge then they start to excavate or whatever and that’s washing the candle.
2. The fancy drink reward
One of the arbritary rule that never stopped working, not like the pomodoro one, was the fancy drink reward. I drink a worrying amount of tea if my GP can be believed. Around a full pot and a half a day.
So each day I brewed my first batch while planning my tasks then off I went to work.
At midday if half the task were gone I could swap out the tea or switch to the cold brew in the fridge, if not it was a second brewing of the morning pot.
At 5pm when I took my snack break if 75% of the tasks were done I could do a fancy drink. By fancy I mean, taking the time to prepare a matcha, making a latte or a fruit mocktail. If not, third brewing of the kettle or water.
3. The online class workout
Pretty self explanatory, I’d put the recording of a lecture and hop on a treadmill and walk/jog for the whole thing. No note taking. No flash card making. Just walking to the voice of a lecturer explaining the treatment plan of tuberculosis.
But wait it get worse.
4. The online class nap
I had a class where lecturers across the country came together to make a podcast with bite size summaries of the chapters. Nephrodio if you speak French give it a try.
I’d pick an episode, put it on and lied down for the 15-20 minutes of the episode. Eyes closed hoping for some osmosis I guess.
5. The discography Saturdays
You know how on Saturdays it’s really hard to get going because you already had five very full days ? And the world tells you to slow down because it’s the weekend so it’s time to rest ? Well med school doesn’t care about that. So for those long days spent at my desk I let go of the pomodoro and used Spotify instead. Here’s how.
After breakfast, id look at my schedule for the week to check whether im on track or behind (i was never ahead) and also where my energy level was. Then id pick an artist with multiple albums and I used them to pace my day.
Woke up early, feeling energised or just really behind ? Queen, Taylor Swift, Lana del Rey, 5+ albums some lasting over 2 hours.
Woke up later, less energy, on time and no so many things to do ? Lorde, Arlo Parks, Alexandra savior.
Adapt to your music taste and to your schedule.
6. The true crime podcasters compagny
And when all else failed, when nothing could get me to focus that’s when the true crime podcasters came there, couple of conditions for it to work with my brain.
Only one main voice, occasional second voice allowed because following a conversation is hard.
No theatrics no additional audio, I dont want theatrics or drama. I don’t like them when the podcast has my full attention and I downright hate them when they’re background noise.
Ideally in English to have a distinction between what in studying and what I’m listening.
And that’s about it for my weird tricks, feel free to add on!
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Don't mind me, I'm just posting a little something that I had in mind, a continuation of Naoya's and Y/N's many HS adventures :) in other words, their first official Valentine's Day.
warnings: fluff. a tiny small hint of smut, implied by someone else. please read this part first followed by this other one to get the full picture!! and I guess this too.
Happy reading :)
Your first valentine’s day with Naoya—like, the actual one and not the fiasco that transpired last year—is one that has you very excited. And how couldn’t you?! Naoya had been very… enigmatic when preparing you for today.
“Clear out your schedule after school, princess. All the way down to the weekend.”
“Huh? Why?” you ask, feigning ignorance—as if you weren’t waiting for this exact moment since you started dating him. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
But you couldn’t wait! Not at all! In fact, such was your excitement that you could barely get any sleep— it was a miracle that you managed to get a few hours of rest before eagerly jumping out of bed, getting ready, and subsequently making your way to class while fervently imagining all the surprises Naoya had in store for you.
Well, whatever it was, there was no doubt in your mind that it would be much better than whatever your classmates discussed—glad that you no longer felt out of the conversation, not entirely that is, for you still had to figure out what your boyfriend was planning…
Thankfully, it wouldn’t take long for you to see the first details of his extensive itinerary, much to your eventual embarrassment.
It would begin with the so-called cupid’s mail service, a way for the student council to take advantage of help couples who wished to send gifts to their significant other’s while raising funds for whatever expenses they might have—such as graduation costs, school trips, so on and so forth.
Last year you were undoubtedly upset for not being sent anything throughout the day, so this time around, Naoya made it his personal mission to not let that happen again, under any circumstance!
And what extravagant way to assure so.
“Senseeeeei, can you give us a moment to deliver the mail?”
Teachers were no strangers to the excessive ways enamored students got to be when prompted—however, none of them had experienced a besotted Naoya, an heir with all possibilities within his grasp motivated to impress his beloved.
“Sure, go ahead.” The sensei responded, barely glancing at the mountain of gifts that made him assume they’d be here for a long time and returning to the blackboard; readying whatever subject followed to retake class once they were gone.
However, as soon as he began his attention would be forced back onto the students the moment they collectively gasped, realizing that the gifts didn’t pertain to various senders, no. Only one—and with a sole receiver too: you.
“All this for you, Y/N, how lucky!” Mei Mei says while placing down a large bouquet of red roses on your desk. “To think that last year you didn’t get a single thing until the very end… you truly are one fortunate girl.”
“Is this—is this really all for me?” You murmur, still in disbelief that Naoya had gone above and beyond with his gifts—but isn’t he always like this, though?
“Oh, this is just for the first class, your beloved boyfriend scheduled more for later.”
“Wh—what?” you breathe, turning even redder, comparable to the roses in front of you. Mei Mei chuckles at the curious sight. “M—more?”
“Don’t forget the note.” she says, plucking an envelope from the bouquet and handing it over to you. “Now, say cheese~”
“Huh, what now?” You stammer, then startled by the bright flash of her cellphone, recollecting the so-called proof Naoya demanded of the goods being delivered—he didn’t want to risk being played the same card he applied last year, this was only a necessary request.
“Well, my job here is done. Have a nice Valentine’s Day, Y/N; Naoya sure is expecting you to have one.”
…
…
…
“Need another desk?” The teacher would suggest after seeing you awkwardly trying to continue with your work through all the items cluttering your counter.
“…yes, please.”
And as Mei Mei promised, more gifts came soon after—from expensive boxes of chocolate from brands you’ve never even heard of in your life, to jewelry and other things you once mentioned wanting before: like a new case for your phone, a cute shirt you saw at the mall (with an additional gift card of a exuberant amount in it if you wished more) and of course, all the mochi you could eat.
Everyone around you wouldn’t take long to begin murmuring about your situation, commenting on how they never expected Naoya to be so passionate about his girlfriend—or anything that wasn’t berating others!
Yet, here he was, spoiling you with all things unimaginable, and that was barely to be the tip of the iceberg.
“Well, at least Naoya had the decency to help you move all these things to your dorm” Shoko commented as she watched the group of students Mei Mei ordered to relocate all of your gifts, work. “Don’t think you would’ve been able to do all that by yourself.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” you breathe, still embarrassed by all that transpired. Being the center of attention is something you never handled well, and more often than not, you tried to pass under the radar.
And yet, as much as you disliked it, it was impossible for you to not enjoy it this time around, for it came from something so sweet as your boyfriend wanting to show his ever-growing adoration for you.
“All this is so excessive, Y/N. I can’t help but wonder what you gave him to evoke all this?”
“I don’t recall anything in particular… I just gave him some chocolates I made.” You murmur, Shoko chuckles. “What?”
“It’s ok, no need to act coy with me. I just know you must’ve given it to him real good.”
“Oh. My. God. Shoko!” you gasp, eyes wide as your friend added onto your embarrassment. Just what you needed!
“Ugh, that is so gross.” Satoru would scowl; the only reason why he was around was to check if the rumors were true, see if Naoya had truly become even more unhinged in the name of love. “I would never do anything like that for a woman.”
“Mmm… maybe not for a woman; but what about a man?” Shoko teases, Gojo quickly becomes flustered, doing what many couldn’t: silence him. “That’s what I thought.”
“Whatever… at least I’m not the one being humiliated—look.” Satoru would then nudge to the person standing by the end of the hallway—a nervous Naoya waiting for you while holding another bouquet of flowers, this time purple roses accompanied by a small Gengar plush in the middle; a sight that has you freezing on the spot, overwhelmed by his seemingly endless gestures of appreciation and all those that were to come.
“We’ll leave you two alone.” Shoko says, grabbing Satoru by the arm and pulling him away. “Have fun!”
“Thanks, Shoko.” You murmur before shyly making your way towards your boyfriend, staring at him for a few seconds, finding the right words to say before settling for a simple greeting. “He—Hey, Naoya…”
“Hello, princess.” Naoya manages to say through the tightness of his throat, excited to see you after a long day of schoolwork, and worried that you might’ve not liked his gifts.
That, of course, is something that wouldn’t perturb him much longer after seeing the way you happily received the flowers from his grasp, a wider smile on your lips as you relished their smell and decoration.
“Did you like your gifts?” He asks, placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer; your heart skips a beat as you lean into him.
“Ye—yeah… I liked all of them.” You admit with a nod. “They were… really nice. Thank you.”
“I wanted to make it up to you, for the shame I put you through last year.”
“Oh, Naoya—don’t say that.” You fret, wanting to leave that in the past. “It was nothing but a misunderstanding…”
“I still made you feel bad, and that is something I will never forgive myself for.”
“Well, if you must know… today succeed all Valentine’s days I’ve ever had.” You happily declare, much to Naoya’s unexpected concern.
“I fear I might’ve shoot myself on the foot, then.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve set the bar too high, I’m not sure if I’ll be capable of surprising you next year.”
“Just spending the day with you is enough for me.” You gently reassure, making Naoya’s heart melt.
“Then I think what I have planned next might be of your liking.”
“Wait, you have more?”
“I did ask you to clear out your schedule for the rest of the week, didn’t I?” Naoya teases,
“Yes…”
He then reaches for his pocket to take out a set of two tickets—the biggest surprise yet.
“I got us a reservation to visit that park you wanted to go to—Disneyland, I believe? From the accommodations to the transportation, I’ve taken care of everything, all my pretty princess needs to do is be ready by—wait, Y/N? Y/N!”
You don’t remember much after that, outside of an overwhelming shock and happiness that deafened and blinded your senses, leading you to assume that you simply… passed out.
#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
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Season to Taste - 12/? WIP
Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.
PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE
TEN ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s another Christmas with the Gallo family and his Italian is fluent. He can even understand the little kids who can barely talk. The teenagers all want to practice their English with him, which he’s happy to do. He’s helped enough with some of their homework now to really appreciate that English is his first language and he never had to learn all the exceptions to all the rules. He’s stumped so often when they ask him to try and explain obscure things.
Christmas is a special time, the restaurant is closed and he helps make the traditional biscuits and food, Leandro and Silvia relaxing and drinking and family come to stay and eat together for what seems like endless days of feasting. There are so many people he can’t keep track of who is related to who. There are Leandro’s siblings, his nieces and nephews. His parents, his parents’ siblings and then their kids.
Then there are Silvia’s parents and fortunately Vi takes pity on him, hooking her arm through his and telling him to just call everyone cousin, or aunt and uncle if they’re old enough to be his parents. It does make it easier, and everyone accepts his continued presence now after a few years, at least no longer the strange American who doesn’t understand them. He does notice, he thinks for the first time, that Leandro and Silvia don’t have any children and he wonders if he can ask. He wants to know but… He sidles up to Vi, she might know.
“Leandro and Silvia never had kids?”
She looks between Bradley and over to Silvia who is holding one of the toddlers on her hips, letting them play with the large chunky beads of her necklace.
“Nope. They couldn’t. Why do you think everyone is happy to have you around?”
“That sucks. They’d make great parents.”
“Who says they aren’t, hmm?” Vi asks, and she gives him a look like he’s an idiot and pats his face.
Well then.
… … …
He’s hot and sweaty, having looked at the tractor and also done some of the truck maintenance. It’s not due to be done until next month, but he won’t be here than and he likes to try and be useful. They have a schedule for things and getting ahead doesn’t hurt, especially when there is a spare pair of hands to help out. He takes the steps up the porch and can hear laughter coming from inside and god, that might not necessarily be a good thing. He’d worried, very briefly, about introducing them and then deserting Leo.
But it’s not like they’re actually dating, he wouldn’t desert a guy who was actually interested in dating him with his sisters. It’s exactly why they’ve never met anyone, because no one has ever really expressed interest in having anything more with him other than just hooking up. His lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to long-term committed relationships with his deployments pretty much imploding everything before they even start. A little alarmingly these two weeks with Leo might constitute his longest relationship, and it’s only a prolonged hookup.
He kicks off his boots and hangs up his hat, can hear both Leo and Maria more clearly and they’re talking food and of course he can smell the same smell from the last couple of days. Some lunches and most dinners, same fucking dish. Even sauce can’t save it. He’s desperate for something different. He walks into the kitchen and it’s a little after four, the house nice and cool after the heat of the sun outside. Both Leo and Maria are sitting there with wine glasses and have turned to look at him.
“Hey…” Leo says, and Jake’s eyebrows raise higher and higher in amusement as Leo blatantly runs his eyes over Jake from his sock clad feet up his legs, over his torso, fixating on what Jake can only assume are his lips. Apparently Leo is a bit of a horny drunk. Maybe.
“Hi there…Are you getting day drunk with my sister?”
“We are getting day drunk together! His sauce needed a little bit of sweetness and a touch of acid, so now we’re emptying the bottle!”
Jake eyes the half-filled bottle and then looks toward the other bench where he spies another empty bottle. He steps closer so he can press a kiss to Leo’s forehead, mainly because he looks like a wobbly kitten wanting to butt heads and Jake’s always been unable to resist cute animals. Then he spies an open recipe book, and he reaches to grab it, about to accuse Leo of cheating and then he sees the photo on the front. The name Bradley Bradshaw embossed in gold, it looks super fancy, and now it makes sense that Maria had recognized him, she’d seen him on the front of one of her recipe books.
“You wrote a recipe book huh?”
Leo’s eyes crinkle and he laughs, leaning into Jake’s body and Jake would swear he’s nuzzling him.
“Yeah. Told you I wouldn’t be much of a chef if I used someone else’s…”
“Yeah okay, fair point. Nice picture…” Jake says, because it is, Leo all dressed in chef whites and looking serious as he holds a knife over a bunch of peppers like he’s about to behead them. It’s clearly posed but he still looks hot.
“I was just signing it for Maria…”
“Was that before or after the first bottle of wine?” Jake asks, and he’s feeling a little… something looking at Leo so comfortable and happy. He looks good. Happy and relaxed and Jake feels the same and it’s… nice, to have someone experiencing a similar thing.
“Oh, I signed it as soon as I saw it.”
“Aw, getting all excited about someone having your cookbook huh?” Jake asks and Maria makes a snorting choking sound but uses a hand to wave his concern away. Leo is looking at him like he never wants to stop and Jake wants to look right back. “You ready to hit the road?”
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Maria asks, looking between them and Jake gives her the finger.
“You need anything?” Jake asks, because there’s no way he’ll leave her needing to do anything, not while she’s this drunk.
“Nope. Have food… wouldn’t mind the company to eat but I’ll ring Olivia… oh my god. Can you come for dinner Friday night?”
�� “What? Why?” Jake asks, suspicious.
“I wasn’t asking you! Bradley. Can you, will you, come for dinner?”
“Yeah, I’d love to. What can I bring?”
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Your flourless chocolate cake. Could you make that?”
“Wait. Why are you inviting him for dinner?” Jake asks, because it’s two days away and –
“Don’t you think everyone else would like to meet him?”
Jake tries to convey shut up shut up shut up with both his brain and eyes, but Maria is looking a little manic and Leo doesn’t seem worried at all but also Leo has likely drunk a bottle of wine. Because no, he doesn’t see why everyone needs to suddenly meet the guy he’s fucking.
“I don’t know, why do they need to meet him?”
“We always like meeting your friends Jake. You never bring anyone home…”
“Actually, I’ve got a meeting on Friday…” Leo says, and Jake looks at him, and he’s suddenly looking a lot more sober, not as soft and shit, he wonders if Maria inviting him to meet the entire family has made him uncomfortable. Uncomfortable enough to be making up excuses and meetings. “The guy from the food truck. Rickard. He’s going to show me how he makes his salsa verde.”
“Oh.” Not made up then. He’s still mourning horny-drunk Leo though.
“You’re seeing Rickard on Friday?” Maria asks.
“You know him?”
“Everyone knows everyone around here. I’ve got a delivery planned for him tomorrow, if Jake has done his job properly.” Jake rolls his eyes. Of course he fucking has. He might be years out from living and working the farm, but he hasn’t forgotten how to harvest or direct the machines or other workers.
“He gets his ingredients from you?”
“Well, we’re certainly not going to get through that many jalapeños! We provide to several places.”
They’re throwing back the last of the wine in their glasses and Jake feels bad at unintentionally calling a halt to their session, because they’ve obviously enjoyed each other’s company. But he doesn’t know how to make things back to the way they were, when they were laughing and Leo was looking at him with dark eyes filled with promise. Ah well, too late now.
“Come on, lucky I don’t drink on the job and can drive us back.”
Maria trails after them, thumbs flying over her phone and he fully expects that his sister’s group chat is lighting up. He should be glad he’s not part of it, but he does wonder what she’s saying. His own phone vibrates in his pocket and oh, maybe she’s got some choice words to say to him then and he’s got it all wrong. He keeps quiet while Leo thanks Maria for her help, and she replies and tells him anytime and it sounds like she genuinely means it, which makes him feel worse about ruining the dinner invite, except Maria is reiterating the dinner invite, and apparently her and Leo have exchanged numbers. What the fuck. Jake can apparently stay away if he doesn’t want to come. Leo says he’ll think about it, she rolls her eyes, mutters oblivious, seriously and that for some reason makes Leo crack a smile. He really wants to check his phone but holds off, waves goodbye to Maria and walks with Leo to the truck. Maria is standing there waiting for them to drive off so she can wave, but Jake shoos her away and she throws her hands up but goes back inside the house.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Why?”
“Just seem a little quiet,” Jake observes, and he could start the engine, fill the silence with something but he wants to… fix this.
“Yeah. Sorry. I just… I didn’t mean to overstep. Kind of muscle in on your family time…”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hanging out with Maria, getting invited to dinner…”
Jake turns and look at Leo, confused and a little bewildered.
“Leo. You… shit. You aren’t stepping on toes. I thought you and my sister would get on, and I was right. And I made you hang out with my sister, and my sister invited you to dinner. I just… I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or, I don’t know, obligated, to meet my family because we’re” he waves his hands between them “…hooking up.”
“What if it was more than hooking up?”
“What?”
“I know it’s only been a few days. Shit. It has only been a few days, but…” he sucks in a breath. “I really like you.”
Jake stares at him, because this is madness. Leo lives in New York, Jake lives wherever the US Navy sends him and comes home to Thompsonville when he can.
“So, what? You think we can date each other for the next ten days?”
“I think that would be a good start…”
“And when you go home, and I’m deployed, how exactly do you see a… relationship working between us?”
“Like we’d savor every second we have together, and use technology to stay in touch and… at least try.”
Jake blinks and shakes his head.
“That’s insane…”
“Maybe. But… Look. I grew up a Navy brat. I know how deployments work and how hard they can be on relationships. Trust me. My job isn’t easy either. I work fucking odd hours, travel a lot and get grumpy even more often. You’ve got the vacation version of me, not the stressed-out workaholic version…”
Jake raises an eyebrow, because he cannot imagine Leo getting stressed out, or even grumpy. His little disgruntled expression when something isn’t tasting quite right is cute, not grumpy, but he trusts that Leo knows what he’s talking about.
“You’re serious…”
“Yeah. And don’t think I don’t know how crazy and potentially stupid this could all be… but I kind of feel like I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”
“And everything to gain,” Jake says, because it’s a common turn of phrase but as soon as it slips out Leo is shifting and reaching over the gear stick to kiss him.
“Exactly.”
THIRTEEN
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ok imagine being ningguang's younger sister and secretly in a relationship with the runaway kazuha.
this has been in my draft for 2 years now, i just discovered it again and felt like continuing it <3 to remind my stem student self about my affection for literature.
kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader
fluff, i promise
First of all, being Ningguang's sister means she cannot have as much time to bond with you. but she will definitely make up for it with weekly dinners to catch up with each other's lives.
And being Kazuha's lover, knowing the risks of rumors that may spread when they see you both together, you would both rather not expose your relationship into public. But, Beidou might already have knowledge about your situation, but we'll talk about that later.
Whenever you have the chance to see each other, you two will walk around the silent streets of the harbor at night and snuggle beneath a huge tree somewhere faraway from the city. His body and clothes are very soft to touch and to hug. when he you both wake up from the short nap, you just do whatever feels right at the moment.
You could explore more areas ahead and go sight-seeing, or just chat about how you're doing these past few weeks while your head is laid on his shoulders.
When you find some sort of animal like a cat or a dog, Kazuha would 100% call it over to come to your side. Then you will pet them and give them some food you have. He loves cats, he swore to you that when he is able to go back to Inazuma without a stain on his name, he will bring you with him and visit alot of beautiful places and visit his friend's cat. And the grave too 💀
Okay anyways 😊
As sneaky as Kazuha is, he was still busted by the captain, I assume he was caught in a trap that was set by beidou which revealed what he actually does in his freetime. She promised not to tell ningguang though, hopefully she really doesn't yet. But, to be completely honest, you wanted to tell her about your relationship yourself.
So one day, when you had the chance to talk to her during her free time, you couldn't miss out on the opportunity to share this little secret with your beloved sister.
"Sister, it's nice to see you again. The weather is magnificent today, isn't it?"
"Hello to you, too. I have tea and snacks prepared for this afternoon. Do make yourself comfortable."
"Hmmm let's have a very honest conversation sis."
The curiosity in Ningguang's eyes gave you the sign to continue.
"Let's play a game, we take turns in asking each other some questions. If we do not want to answer a question, we take a sip of this drink with 40% alcohol that I bought from Fontaine! How does that sound?"
She thought about it for a few seconds and replied.
"That offer sounds very much like you, very well, I'll have my schedule cleared out for the expected aftermath of this game you have."
"Great! Let's start. You can go first sissy."
"How did you get ahold of this high-class drink in Fontaine?"
"Ahaha I... I asked for help from Beidou. Okay my turn! Do you swing that way?" (HAPPY PRIDE MONTH LOVELY PEOPLE)
"Ah yes, seems like you have caught on to my... preferences. Now I shall ask you this question. Are you... Hiding something from me?"
"Yes. Next question, are you and Beidou a thing?"
She was speechless for a few seconds and suddenly she poured herself a drink.
"What! We were getting to the good part!"
"I refuse to elaborate on that topic. Now. Are you and a certain samurai secretly seeing each other in the shadows?"
"Huhh?! What-how, uh, yeah. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT?"
"Beidou is a little too chatty."
Beidou huh.
"Whatever, but yeah, that was the thing that I wanted to talk with you today. Do you approve of us?"
"Sure, why not. That boy has gentleness and passion flowing into his veins. He's totally your type as well. You have my blessings in whatever your plans are with him."
(will continue once i get more sleep)
#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha fluff#kazuha#kazuha x reader#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kazuha genshin impact#ningguang#beidou#genshin impact#genshin fluff
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p.s. i love you (1)

pairing: doctor!jungkook x doctor!oc
summary: you’ve been tasked to a young toddler as a patient with jungkook, the both of you grow fond of the child, loving and caring for her like she was your own. yet when things take a huge turn and takes everyone by surprise, jungkook is there to catch you.
warnings: angst, comfort, mentions of death, but not oc or jk 🙃
word count: 3k+
p.s. i love you masterlist!
snippet of the chapter:
Jungkook pushes the hair out of your face and wipes the tear rolling down your cheek.
Your stomach does a flip.
“I hate to see you so upset, wish I knew how to make you feel better, hmm?”
It’s busy in the hospital at the moment as many patients are being admitted, you find your schedule more and more packed with various patients. Meanwhile, your eyebags are getting heavier and darker, your meal times have been cut short, and you practically now live at the hospital from how long you stay here every day.
“___ I have a new patient for you,” Your head of department is briefing the team, assigning them specific patients to give specific care to, those in the ICU. You pray that you aren’t being assigned to another creepy pedophile, out of your history of patients, these weren’t the most ideal to work with.
“You’ll be working with Dr. Jeon, you two have to watch over Yeseo, she’s 4 years old with stage 3 cancer, and her parents are not available to be with her all the time as they are financially unstable and need to work constantly in order to keep up with the hospital bills and treatments.”
“I hope the both of you take the time to bond with the child and watch carefully over her, her parents have trusted us to ensure she’s happy and safe.”
You nod calmly, but your heart is going to rip out of your chest.
You’ve just been assigned to your long term crush who has a full sleeve of tattoos and rides a Harley Davidson.
You tell yourself to stay focused on what is important, it’s the toddler with a detrimental illness, not your stupid crush.
You see Jungkook, who’s sitting a few chairs away from you, turn to face you. But you look straight ahead because if you even dare to move your gaze towards him, you’d just lose all control.
When the briefing is over, you pack your stuff up to rush to your desk, but an arm grabs you to halt you in your steps as you whip around.
Jeon Jungkook.
Shit.
“___ I’m aware we’re scheduled for 3pm later to visit Yeseo, but I have a clashing appointment with my new patient so I’ll be a little late, I apologise in advance,”
He has an apologetic smile on his face that makes you want to forgive him for anything, it makes you want to tell him that he can not show up at all and you would still forgive him.
___ you’re at work. Focus.
You’re really trying your best to ignore the fact that you have a massive fucking crush on him, trying to stay professional. But it’s hard.
————————————————————————
“Hi Yeseo, I’m ___ and I’ll be taking care of you with another nice doctor okay?” You use your baby voice that normally works when introducing yourself to young children, but it seems like she’s a little different.
She’s timid as she hides under the blanket, only her eyes popping out to stare at you.
You watch as her hands clutch onto the blanket tightly.
Poor thing, she must be tired and overwhelmed with the amount of therapy and treatment she has to go through, without her parents around.
“Do you like puppies?”
She nods softly, eyes lighting up at the question but still hiding under the comfort of her blanket.
“Well, Dr Jeon has a puppy and maybe I can get him to show you the very very cute puppy later okay?��� You give her a big smile, trying your hardest to crack through her shell.
“Did I hear my name?”
Geez. Your heart drops as the familiar deep voice rings from the door of the room.
Jungkook comes in with his warm smile and you watch as his lips curve upwards, you want to kiss-
You seriously need to stop and control yourself.
“Puppy?” There’s a small delicate voice that comes from the girl hiding further under the blanket, probably from having a new face enter into the room.
“Ahh, did my partner tell you about my puppy? Wanna take a look?” Jungkook pulls the other chair towards the bed next to you as he pulls out his phone.
You sincerely hope he cannot hear your heart thudding in your chest from the way he said “my partner”.
But you remind yourself that he meant it as work colleagues.
You watch in endearment as Jungkook shows Yeseo short clips of his dog, Bam, which he had once brought to the hospital to show another young child who loved dogs.
You and Jungkook finish off the day with checking her vitals and preparing her for her treatment tomorrow, and when you close the door to the room, you sigh in satisfaction. Finally, after almost a ten hour shift, you get to relax.
“Thanks for today,” Jungkook snaps you out of your daze.
“Hmm? For what?” You frown, confused.
“Being such a good partner, I’m glad we got paired up together, you work so well with young kids it’s admirable, and I think we had a good start with her today thanks to you,”
He’s making you go insane at this point, you just hope he cannot see your ears turning a bright shade of red.
“You’re surprisingly good with them too, I think Yeseo will like you more because you have Bam,” You tease him, nudging his shoulder.
It’s really muscular.
“We’ll see about that,” He chuckles at your words.
————————————————————————
You rub at your temples and sigh, the elderly patient who was just admitted into the ICU for having high blood pressure and almost going into a heart attack is not cooperating.
She had been refusing to accept treatment from anyone, no matter how much convincing you and your doctors had tried.
“I don’t need this,” She's grumbling as her forehead wrinkles from frowning, “I am not sick and I don’t need treatment,”
“But Miss, You are in critical condition and I really advice you take the treatments-“
She cuts you off again, stubbornly rejecting you for the millionth time.
“Hey, I’m gonna take a breather outside,” You inform the other nurse in the room as she gives you a nod and a sympathetic smile.
Being a doctor wasn’t an easy job, but it was really rewarding seeing patients improve in their conditions and happily get discharged. Even though there were definitely some cases that made your head hurt, like today, you often tried to tell yourself not to give up.
It’s really hard when your head was throbbing and you were surviving on two hours of sleep. To add onto that you were on a schedule that ended at 10pm tonight.
You don’t notice Jungkook standing a distance away, distracted from the conversation he was having with one of the nurses. He watches your huffing and tired state, gaze softening as he calls Hoseok from his desk.
“Hey, Dr Jeon called me to take over you, why don’t you go and take a break before your next appointment, I think I’ll take over from here,”
Hoseok takes you by surprise as he approaches you, taking the clipboard of the old lady’s documents from your hand and opening the door.
“Thanks,” You called out before the door closed.
You look around to find how on earth Jungkook knew what you were doing, meeting his soft gaze as he mouths, “Take a break,”
You smile at him, mouthing back a “thank you” as you walk back to your office
————————————————————————
You’re back in the hospital two weeks after Yeseo had been admitted into the ICU, she had been in and out, her conditions were not very stable, yet she did show some signs of improving.
“Yeseo, I really need you to try and eat this okay? It’s really yummy and it’ll make you strong!”
You’re trying your best to persuade the 4 year old to eat some food. She had been refusing to be fed for the past 24hours and you’re desperate to get something in the toddler’s stomach.
She crosses her arms and pouts, spitting out a cute but fiesty “No,”
Jungkook, who’s sitting on the chair next to you, takes the spoon of porridge from you as he inches closer to the pouting toddler,
“Here comes the airplane~”
You almost sneer at the way his voice raises two octaves and how the spoon in his hands swerve around Yeseo’s face.
“Open wide!” The spoon in Jungkook’s hand nears her mouth, but she seals her mouth shut as he sighs at the failed attempt.
You let Jungkook figure out another way to convince the poor toddler to eat, or else it’s the IV drip that’s next.
“Yeseo, if we cannot feed you this food, do you know what Doctor Jeon will have to do?” He puts down the spoon and questions her.
The toddler shakes her head as she peers curiously, waiting for the answer.
“We will have to put another tube in you! Remember how you didn’t like the other tubes when we did your treatment?“
Jungkook tries to explain the IV drip to the four year old toddler in the simplest way for her to understand
But his tactic seems to work almost too well when Yeseo starts to tear up, her lips wobbling as she shakes her head.
“Don’t want! No tube!” She wails, the tears beginning to stroll down her cheeks.
“Okay, okay, we won’t put the tube if you help us to eat some of this yummy porridge okay?” You tell her, carrying her into your lap, as the toddler burying her face into your chest and sniffs.
“No tube?” Yeseo asks, looking at Jungkook for confirmation.
“Yes, no tube I promise, so now be a good girl and eat this for us okay?” Jungkook confirms.
————————————————————————
After feeding Yeseo, Jungkook walks over to check on her results from the recent tests she had undergone.
“Seems like she’s doing a little better,” Jungkook informs you
You smile at that, “That’s amazing,”
“Sleepy,” The toddler on your lap yawns, clinging onto your shirt to get your attention.
You check the time, realising it’s a little past her usual naptime.
“Okay, let’s go to sleep okay? Then we’ll be back tomorrow to play with you again!” Jungkook takes her from your lap, tucking her into the sheets.
She nods, eyes half shut as she waves at the both of you, an adorable habit she developed whenever she was going to fall asleep.
You smile at her actions, “And your mummy and daddy will be here to see you when you wake up, so make sure you sleep well now!”
She’s a little more excited to sleep as she forcefully shuts her eyes, making the both of you laugh.
————————————————————————
The last thing you expected was for you to walk into the office today, ready for work with a good eight hours of sleep, only to walk into a room that was filled with a solemn atmosphere.
Your head of department nodded for you to take a seat, you glanced over to Jungkook and he had this look on his face telling you something wasn't well.
“What happened? Is it Yeseo?” You’re panicking, thinking she’s back in the ICU after being out of it for a few days.
“Don’t tell me her cancer has progressed,” Your voice wobbles a little, afraid that after her condition seemed to be improving, there was a chance it could have slipped again.
“Yeseo’s parents are here ___, they wanted to tell you and the rest of the doctors something,”
That’s not a good sign.
Yeseo’s vitals and conditions had been going up and down recently, but with your analysis from you and Jungkook’s visit, she had been doing a little better.
You didn’t want to even think about what was about to happen next.
“I just want to thank you all, specifically Dr Jeon and ____ for taking such good care of Yeseo, as well as the other doctors who often came in to check up on her,” Her father speaks up
You gulp
“We are extremely grateful for the love and care you brought to her, and whenever we visit her, she always mentioned how you all showered her with so much love,” Her mum continues
A silent tear rolls down your cheek.
You know what’s about to happen.
“Unfortunately, Yeseo left us this morning, but when we came over last night to visit her, we talked to her,“
“She somehow seemed to know her time was up soon-”
Her mum begins to burst into tears before she can complete her sentence.
You do the same.
You run up to her mum, embracing her tightly.
“I’m so so so sorry,” You sob as you hug her mum, tears roll down your cheeks as you gasp for air, shocked from the news that took you aback the moment you walked into the room.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save her, I wish I could have done more to help, I’m terribly sorry,” You’re apologising over and over again,
Her mum shakes her head as she lovingly wipes the tears from your face, even though more begins to pour down.
Jungkook’s eyes turn red from the amount of heavy emotion in the room, watching as you cry in her mum’s embrace.
“It isn’t your fault at all dear, in fact, I couldn’t thank you enough for being there for her in her last moments,” Her mum tears with a smile on her face,
With more hugs and comforting, her parents leave teary-eyed, but with a smile, thanking everyone in the unit for all their help.
Jungkook wants to approach you to comfort you while you still cry as you walk out of the room.
But he has to control his own tears from spilling out.
He doesn’t make it in time to approach you before you hide in the comfort of your office.
————————————————————————
You haven’t been this affected by a death ever since your first dog had passed away.
You can’t seem to stop the tears flowing as you somehow feel regret.
Even though you know that whenever you serve a patient, there is never a 100% chance that they make it out, and it was something all the doctors had to train themselves mentally for. Most of the time you manage to comfort yourself and others, acknowledging how everyone did their best to help, and that was all that matters, no matter the outcome.
But with how close you grew with Yeseo and the determination you felt to make her better, the piece of news today overwhelmed your feelings.
It felt as if you had lost a child, a loved one who you cared for so much and nurtured.
It hurt you so bad to suddenly have her presence gone, to have to accept you would no longer have any more appointments with her.
There’s a knock on your office door that interrupts your crying.
“___?”
It’s Jungkook. You recognise his voice immediately.
“I’m coming in okay?”
You hurriedly wipe your tears, catching your breath as you pretend to look down at the documents on your table.
At the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook pull the chair across your desk next to you, head lowering slightly to attempt to look at you.
“How are you processing the information?” He questions, his voice soft yet filled with hesitation.
You shrug, not trusting your voice to answer the man.
“I know it’s hard, I’ve seen you grow so much with her and I have too, it’s sad but it’s a reality that we have as doctors, you never know who you can save and who you can’t”
Another tear rolls down your cheek
Jungkook pushes a hair out of your face and wipes the tear rolling down.
Your stomach does a flip.
“I hate to see you so upset, wish I knew how to make you feel better, hmm?”
His words take you by surprise, but you suppress your reaction to that.
“Don’t say it like that, you’re messing with me,” You whisper, peering up at him through your red bloodshot eyes.
He raises an eyebrow at you, “How am I messing with you baby?”
You stiffen at the pet name.
Jungkook’s quiet for a second, he silently cusses at himself for letting it slip.
“Come here,” He calls you.
You look up to him as he has his arms open, signalling for you to come closer to him.
You’re reluctant to let yourself do so, your heart thumping in your chest from the intimacy he’s about to make you experience.
He’s playing around with your feelings too much.
“Come on, I don’t bite,” Jungkook teases you, as you laugh, playfully smacking his arm, already feeling better with his presence.
You’re grateful for Jungkook’s muscular arms bringing you into a hug.
It makes you feel a little better knowing he’s here to comfort you.
#jungkook fluff#jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook ff#jungkook smut#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#bts#bts ff#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#jungkook angst#boyfriend jungkook
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OH SHIT I FORGOT THEY OPENED YESTERDAY!! If you are keeping them open another day, how about "Jealousy" (SFW) with Lucifer and m!MC? Possibly in the same sort of timeline as the marriage one just so he gets to call him his fiance.
Hope this is to your liking, anon!
1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW
(Lucifer x m!MC)
Prompt 2 - Jealousy
First, you went shopping with Solomon of all silver-haired, shady bastards. Then, you spent your lunch playing games with his brothers. Then, Diavolo had the nerve to pat you on the head for getting your report in ahead of schedule – which was not only uncalled for, but completely self-indulgent and rude when Diavolo knew better than to touch what didn’t belong to him. Now, some lesser demon was approaching you on your walk home – the only time Lucifer had gotten you alone all day – to give you a present, claiming to be a part of the “Demons for Humans: MC Fanclub.” Now, Lucifer wasn’t convinced that such a club didn’t exist, nor was he a stranger to fanclubs or random admirers coming up to him with offerings, but this was you who was getting extra attention, and Lucifer had used up all the tolerance he had to spare.
“You’re just so cool, and I’ve really come to appreciate humans since you came to the Devildom. I wanted to thank you for all of that, so please accept this!” The lesser demon thrusted the present out towards you, bowing his head in embarrassment and respect.
You took the gift from him with a smile. “Thank you. That’s so sweet.”
By then, a dark aura had engulfed Lucifer and all the light had drained from his eyes. When the lesser demon looked up, he noticed and yelped. He was ready to run in the opposite direction when Lucifer placed a firm hand on the lesser demon’s shoulder, careful not to crack the weakling’s bones in your presence. Lucifer cleared his throat before he spoke in a calm tone, laced with homicidal intent, “Yes. Thank you so much for supporting MC. He’s certainly deserving of all that praise. However, I would request that you not make it a habit to give gifts to my fiancé.”
“I-I had no idea you were engaged. Congratulations, sir – Lord Lucifer. I wish you a happy marriage,” the demon replied skittishly.
Appeased by his fear, Lucifer smiled and let go of the lesser demon. “Thank you.”
The demon ran away, quickly disappearing down the nearest busy street. You turned to glare at Lucifer.
“Seriously? He was just being nice.” Your glare didn’t lighten up.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Lucifer huffed.
“What’s up with you?”
“I’ll tell you when we get home, just,” Lucifer grabbed your hand and started down the street towards the House of Lamentation, “don’t look so mad.”
You sighed and waited patiently until Lucifer had dragged you all the way back to his room and finally released your hand. Before you could open your mouth, Lucifer spoke up, “Can you sit down on the bed for a minute?”
Annoyed, you sat down at the edge of the bed. “Okay, now are you going to tell me what your problem is?”
Lucifer wormed his way onto your lap, surprising you as he adjusted himself until he was practically curled up against your chest. You were too stunned by the sudden soft gesture that your annoyance began to melt. Despite being such a large demon, Lucifer tucked his head under your chin. With that, any anger you held onto disappeared, and you held him tight, stroking his soft hair with one hand.
“You’re my fiancé,” Lucifer mumbled just above a whisper.
“I am. And you’re mine. You don’t see me terrifying your fans.”
“I don’t have to explain why that happened.” You could tell from his tone that he was pouting.
“I know, but I’d like you to. For your soon-to-be husband?” You cooed and kissed the top of his head.
“I got jealous. I get mad that I have to share you, and the first time I get you alone all day, that random demon. . .” Lucifer huffed. “I’m sorry.”
“You know, if you need attention, you can just ask. Even if it’s embarrassing, ask and you shall receive, my sweet, angry, jealous baby boy.”
“Then can you keep holding me for a while?” Lucifer wrapped his arms around you and clung to your body.
“Oh? Did you think you had the option to leave? Not happening. I have you in my arms, and I’m not letting you go.”
A/N: requests are still open for the rest of today if anyone else wants to enter. (rules here) I probably won't get to all of the SFW requests, but I may be able to finish them up tomorrow or the day after.
#moss 1 year event#moss 1 year event sfw#anon#requests#m!mc#lucifer#obey me short fic#lucifer x mc#lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer#He's so pathetic I want to bite him
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