#usually just little scraps of whatever he was cooking

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 1

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 2.2k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 1: The understatement of the century

To say Roronoa Zoro was intrigued would be the understatement of the century. The straw hats had arrived at the peaceful island the day before. It was by far the most boring island they’d visited on their voyage. The small port town was serene, seemingly untouched by the chaos of the outside world. It was a refreshing change of pace for the crew after the usual turmoil of their adventures. They’d decided to spend a few days on land while the log pose set the way to their new adventure. They’d relax a little, take the time to stock up on provisions and perhaps even enjoy a bit of leisure time.

At first he’d thought it was a fluke. He’d been seated at the bar when the bar tender whipped out a black bladed knife to cut a lemon. It couldn’t be, could it? And yet as he continued to examine it from afar, the more certain he’d been. It was most definitely a haki infused blade. His eye had narrowed as he’d taken in the old pudgy bar tender. No. He was normal. There was no way he’d infused the blade with haki. Whatever. He’d given up on the mystery for the night. He was here to drink, it didn’t matter.

It was the next morning as he reluctantly accompanied the silly cook for his errands that the mystery hit him again. The merchants were all using haki infused tools. Hell, even the farmer they’d crossed was raking with a haki infused rake. This should in no way be possible. It took years of battle for haki to infuse permanently with a blade. One was a fluke, there was an insanely small probability that maybe a kitchen knife could be infused with haki through generations. But this? This was not a fucking fluke. He’d felt something drop in his stomach at the realization. There was someone on this island infusing every scrap of metal they could find with haki.

The sudden awareness of the sheer amount of haki infused objects on the island ignited Zoro’s curiosity like a blazing fire. He had to know. That evening, he asked the bartender. “Oi, that blade. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh, this old thing?” The portly man answered casually, as if it were the most ordinary knife in the world.

Zoro nodded encouraging the old man to continue.

“The witch made it,” he chuckled.

“Witch?” he asked incredulously.

“Well… She’s not exactly a witch. It’s just how the children refer to her,” he laughed heartily. “I bought this knife from our resident blacksmith. She can be a bit abrasive, but you won’t get a better knife anywhere else.” The old man twirled the knife in his hand, a fond look in his eyes. “I’ve had this one for years now, never had to sharpen it once. It’s just as sharp as the first day I used it.”

“Huh,” Zoro grunted in response.

“That’s right! They’re really amazing! If you want one of those, young man, you should go up the mountain to see her,” an older lady joined in to the conversation.

“Yes! It really is a must! You won’t find anything else like it,” another middle aged man sitting next to him added. “She always has a few good knives in stock.”

“She might chew you out though,” a younger woman added behind his back. “You never really know with her. It’s always a fifty-fifty chance,” the whole bar laughed at the comment. Clearly invested in the conversation. Comments and funny stories about their interactions with the ‘witch’ flowing through the tables.

“Up the mountain, huh?” Zoro muttered more to himself than anything.

“Aye, lad,” the bartender answered him. “But heed that warning. With her you never know whether she’ll sell you the knife or throw it at you.” Another wave of laughter went through the bar. Acclamations of ‘that’s right!’ and ‘true, true’ in agreement flowed around him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He downed his drink, a half-smile quirking his lips. He’d decided he’d find this ‘witch’. He had questions and he would get answers.

The next morning he’d woken up early. Robin had quirked an eyebrow in surprise as he’d entered the kitchen, sun still low on the horizon.

“Oh! Zoro!” Luffy had said between mouthfuls. “You going somewhere?”

Zoro grunted in response, his mind already set on the task ahead. “Yeah, I’m heading up the mountain” He replied tone resolute.

Luffy paused mid-bite, his expression shifting to curiosity. “What for?” He asked interest glinting in his eyes.

Zoro couldn’t help the faint smile twitching at his lips. “I’m gonna find a witch,” he said cryptically.

“A witch?” Robin inquired, setting down her book, evidently intrigued.

Sanji, who’d been quietly preparing breakfast, perked up at the mention. “You mean the blacksmith girl?” he interjected, a smile playing on his lips. “They say not only she’s talented but she’s a true beauty,” he added, hearts almost coming out of his eyes.

A ‘tsk’ escaped Zoro’s lips at the pervy cook’s reaction. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“You better not spend all my money on some fancy blade,” Nami cut in, opening the door to the kitchen.

Zoro grunted in response.

Luffy with a full mouth asked “Can I come with?” He was clearly bored of doing nothing.

“Me too?” Robin added.

Zoro nodded in response. It didn’t really matter to him. He just had to put this mystery to rest.

Luffy swallowed down the mountain of food before him in one go. “Alright! Let’s go!” He declared excitedly with his signature grin marking his face.

“Don’t get lost!” Nami had screamed from the deck of the ship as the three of them made their way to the mountain path.

The trail was an arduous one but it wasn’t too hard to navigate. The air growing crisper and colder as they ascended. Robin led the way, chuckling at their captain’s tone-deaf singing. The scenery was nice, the quiet rustle of leaves and distant hum of birds accompanying their journey.

“Oi, Zoro, why do they call the blacksmith a witch?” Luffy asked along the way.

“Dunno,” Zoro replied.

“I heard some children say the witch puts magic in the metal she forges,” Robin answered instead. “Some of them say they could see black things floating around when she works. Others say it’s only the product of children’s imagination” She continued. “It’s a mystery really.”

“Ehh! “ Luffy interjected. “Magic huh, sounds interesting” he mused.

“It’s probably just haki,” Zoro added.

“Most likely, after all not everyone is able to see it” Robin agreed. “You see, Luffy, what’s actually the mystery is the concentration of haki infused objects in this town,” She carried on, all attention on her. “In archaeology, haki infused blades are an extremely rare find. They are very few and far in between. Zoro probably knows more than me on the subject,” She eyed him a small smile on her lips. “But it takes a lot of skill both from the person forging the blade and the swordsman wielding the blade for it to become permanently infused with haki.”

Zoro nodded, confirming her suspicions.

“Now what is actually strange here is” She took a pause, trying to find the right words. “While haki infused blades are found here and there, haki infused daily objects have never been heard of.” She stopped in her tracks, looking at Zoro, a serious look in her eyes as she finished. “And this town is practically overflowing, with haki infused objects. Knives, rakes, sewing needles, even nails. Name it it’s probably there. It makes no sense really.”

“Is that so?” Luffy said. “I’m not sure I understand, but it sure does sound interesting,” he continued ahead on the path. “I wonder if she’s a good witch or a bad one,” he mused, Robin’s explanation going right over his head.

Zoro and Robin exchanged an amused look. A small sigh escaping their lips as they continued up the mountain.

It didn’t take long for Luffy to scream back at them. “Oi, I see a house! Hurry up you guys!”

As Zorro and Robin rejoined Luffy, they spotted a tall frail looking woman exiting a building. Something was clearly wrong, she had a hurt look in her eyes, her pace slightly off. Before they could stop him. Luffy was already shouting, “Hey! You! Are you the witch?”

The interruption seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she’d been in, blood coming back to her rosy cheeks. A soft smile plastered her lips. “Me?” She asked, amusement clear in her voice. She laughed, a clear cheerful din travelling in the crisp morning air. “Gods, no. That would be my sister.”

“That so? Why is she called a witch?” Luffy asked, no tact as usual.

She chuckled. “I’m not sure” She pondered. “Maybe it’s because of her temper, maybe it’s because of her skills as a blacksmith. Not everyone can see her magic after all.” She added in a sing song. It was clear to Robin that the young woman was the one entertaining the children’s fantasies.

“Is she here? I realllly want to see a witch,” Luffy probed. “I’m Luffy by the way. I’m gonna become the king of the pirates.”

“What?” The young woman laughed, incredulous at the captain’s antics. “I’m Mary.” She answered the introduction. “My sister is in her workshop, I wouldn’t recommend going in there though, she’s in a really bad mood today.”

None of the straw hats heard the second half of the sentence. Following their captain in the workshop instead.

To say the past few months had been hell to you would be the understatement of the century. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream. Your hammer clanked against the block of steel you were working. You were in a really bad mood. Enraged, would be more appropriate. You were aware your strikes were a touch too hard, risking the steel to settle wrong. You didn’t really care; anger clouded your eyes. Tears of fury threatening to blur your sight.

At first it’d been a captain from the navy. He’d offered some kind of contract from the government. You’d politely refused him, you were no government dog. But the bastard had simply turned away and said they’d be back. Then it had been fucking pirates. One after the other, you’d refused them. Ain’t no way you’d serve under thieving assholes either. But then. Then, a fucking admiral had shown up on your door. You scowled as his sleezy smile made its way in your mind. You’d told him no. He’d told you he’d pick you up in a month. Before he’d gone, he’d given you a wanted poster with your face on it. 1 Billion berries, it said. Dead or alive, it said. The threat was clear, refuse the government’s offer again and they were going to make sure you’d regret it. AND THEN. As if that wasn’t enough, a Yonko… A FUCKING YONKO, had strolled in your workshop as soon as the sleezy son of a bitch had left and asked you to join his crew. Admittedly you might have snapped, thrown a few knives and foul words his way. But the red-haired jerk had simply laughed and said he’d be back soon.

The one-month limit was nearing the end. You sighed.

“(Y/n)! Are you listening to me?” Mary, your sister, asked, sitting on a stool at the other end of your workshop.

“What?” you snapped at her not stopping your work. The rhythmic clank of your hammer on steel the only thing keeping you sane.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should reconsider that last offer. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, and you know the next time the Navy docks here, they won’t give you a choice.” She tried to plead with you.

“I’m not going to serve under a fucking Yonko,” your answer was final and she knew it. Still, she flinched at your tone, brows furrowing angrily.

“Why are you always such a bonehead,” she shouted at you. “At this point, your stubbornness is going to be what’s going to kill you. You need to leave this place!”

The next clang of your hammer was definitely too hard, leaving a deep dent in the hot steel. You didn’t stop even though the block was most definitely ruined. You’d have to re-melt it later. It didn’t matter. The outrage you felt at the situation started to border on fury. The air around you felt heavy, red crackling lightning-like filaments joining the threads of black flowing around you and into the steel.

“(Y/n),” You heard Mary plead. You saw her start to sway a little, her face beginning to blanch. “Stop! You know I can’t breathe when you get like that” She tried to calm you.

You couldn’t. The only thing in your head was that poster. 1 Billion berries. Fuck. You almost wished you could hand yourself in for that amount of berries. The sleezy asshole would be back soon. The atmosphere around you crackled more intently. The rage simmering under your skin threatened to boil over.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Then.” You answered, each word punctuated by the clank of your hammer.

Even looking only from the corner of your eye, the hurt was clear on her face. The pace of her footsteps was uneven, threatening to crumble under the oppressiveness of your haki. You sighed, guilt temporarily flooding your heart. You’d apologize later.

Next Chapter →

Masterlist

[tozettastone]

Scrapped excerpt: Maddie takes a ninjutsu lesson with Uncle Hidan.

---

"Horse, dragon, tiger, hare. Most fire stuff will end with tiger, but you put the hare seal there to make it weak."

Hidan was sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out. They were both basking in the warm sun and cool breeze of Wave's coastal climate.

He looked bored. Probably e-ranked elemental techniques didn't thrill him. But Maddie wanted to learn, and Hidan did like being the centre of her attention.

"Weak?" she repeated.

"Yeah... because fire's an easy element to make, but a hard one to control."

"So like... the opposite of water?"

"Uh-huh. So weak fire techniques usually have limiters like that, so dumbass kids don't kill themselves. And because, you know, do you want to light a cooking fire, or burn it to a crisp?"

"Cooking fire," she agreed dutifully. Although, despite this, the idea of a giant maelstrom of fiery death did flicker through her brain. It might be nice to feel like she could burn someone to a crisp if they scared her.

But that was kind of a dumb fantasy. Ninja weren't dangerous because of their stupid flashy techniques, and knowing one wouldn't necessarily help her. Ninja were dangerous because they were sneaky and tricksy as fuck. If you got to the stupid flashy technique phase, something had already gone catastrophically wrong.

"Here."

He ran through the seals in about one second and then the air around his fingers caught aflame with a whumph, flaring brightly. It was indeed weak: an orange flame, tall and flickering, which lasted only a few seconds. In short, perfect for lighting a fire.

"Can you show me those seals again?"

"Horse, dragon, tiger, hare," he said, showing them.

"Wait, wait, slow down. What's horse?"

"You're not usually this slow, come on," Hidan whined. But obligingly he held 'horse' until she got it.

"I've never used a seal before! Dragon now?"

"Are your fingers busted?"

She scowled. "No. You shinobi train for this shit."

"Hey, hey! I didn't train for shit. I barely remember being a kid. You're just bad at it. Do you have any idea how fast Kakuzu can do this?"

It really checked out that someone like Hidan, who had at some point decided that suffering was the most important human experience, didn't remember much of his childhood. Maddie thought this with sudden, crystal clarity. And then she shut her mouth and kept it to herself.

"Well, he's a ninjutsu guy, I guess," Maddie mumbled. Also he'd been making his fingers do this for like eighty years or something, hadn't he? Of course he could do it so fast...

The transition from horse to dragon to tiger was easy, as they all featured similarly interlocking fingers, but the sudden switch to hare was surprisingly tricky. She'd never felt so clumsy.

"You could say that," said Hidan, in an amused tone that suggested she'd made a profound understatement. Whatever. She didn't have a reference point to know how good or bad someone was at ninjutsu. "He'd be better at teaching you this shit."

"No he wouldn't," Maddie disagreed. "He might be better at ninjutsu but that doesn't mean he can teach it. He'd get mad and fuck off." Or, you know, kill someone.

"Oi, oi, oi, is it okay for a little girl to have such a foul mouth? Besides," he added, leaning over to manually, and not very gently, change her finger position, "I'm about to get mad and fuck off."

"Hang on," she went through the signs slowly. It took her about twelve seconds.

Hidan was smiling at her, but it was the kind of smile you wore when you watched a puppy try to open a door with its face. He was such a dick.

"Is that right?"

"Sure. As long as what you want to use it on is tied down, I guess."

Moving chakra around was surprisingly — and pleasantly — easy once Maddie had the seals down, though. She barely had to do anything. She just cycled some of her chakra to her hands, which was way easier than water walking, and the seals defined the shape it took.

She produced a flicker of fire. Unlike Hidan's version, this one was only about as large as the flame from a lighter.

"Huh," said Hidan. "First try! I guess your control's pretty good..." Well, she had a lot of practice. Ami had made her learn control exercises very young, and she had been water walking every day for years now. "You're still wasting heaps of chakra. You gotta practice shit like this to get it right."

"Right," she agreed, trying again. She could feel exactly what he meant when he said she was wasting chakra: it bled off when it was trying to convert to fire. Her affinities were for water and lightning, and a lot was being burnt up in the conversion. "I don't really understand how to change it into fire."

"Me neither," Hidan said, unhelpfully. "Elemental ninjutsu is Kakuzu's thing. My technique doesn't use any of that."

Maddie blinked. "What does it use instead then?"

"Uhh... all techniques are kind of based around the physical and the spiritual elements, I guess. Mine's all yang chakra stuff, making a sympathetic link with the blood and then sharing physical wounds."

"Should you be telling me that?"

"Eh? It's not a secret. Anyone who actually got a forehead protector could figure that much out. But most people are cowards and heathens. They wouldn't want to use my ritual."

"Huh," said Maddie. Then she thought: I could, though. She could cut her own throat, in a real pinch. She felt nervous just thinking about it. But she'd had her throat slit before. She could... she could do it. If she had to, to keep herself safe from actual death or like... ongoing harassment. "I don't know, it's a cool technique. You just have to be willing to get a bit hurt."

Hidan looked at her, mouth curling into a strangely soft little smile, which was when she realised exactly what she'd said.

"I don't want to get hurt!" Maddie amended in a rush, which on reflection was was also ill-considered.

But instead of hitting a berserk button, this just made Hidan's smile turn wry. "Ah. Don't look so worried. We'll fix that one day."

Grrreat.

"Anyway, of course it's cool," Hidan said, as though this was to be taken for granted. "I developed it myself."

"Really?" she said, starting again. A steady chakra stream, even and controlled.

Horse.

"What's that meant to mean?" Hidan scowled. "Do you think I can't make my own techniques?"

Dragon.

She really hadn't. Didn't that require, um, being smart? Was Hidan smart? She didn't... think so?

She licked her lips. "Obviously you can. I just thought it was connected to the greater... Jashinism... sect?"

"Oh. Nah. I'm the only one blessed like this."

Huh, that was interesting news.

Tiger.

She could feel her chakra doing the conversion, slowly and sluggishly. Burn, burn burn. She held if for a second.

This last bit was the hardest for her fingers. Hare, and then release.

She moved her hands at last. Har—

Hidan poked her in the ribs with two fingers.

Her fingers slipped, and an enormous gout of flame flashed to life above her hands, huge and blue-edged and flickering, eating up all of the chakra she'd fed into the technique in an instant.

Hidan whooped with delight and the smell of burning hair filled Maddie's nostrils.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Nick SFW Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Nick shows his affection through his actions. You'll wake up to a cup of coffee, or a new pack of ammo. It's simple things that he does to show that he's looking out for you. You'll even notice that he does it more when he thinks you're going through something rough.

B - Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's like an uncle you only see once a year. He's sarcastic, easy to get along with, and nonchalant about most things. Something bad happens to him and he'll just shrug his shoulders. That being said, he's really easy to talk to and has some of the best advice out there.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's not a very physical person by any means. Just never knew what to do with his arms or where to place his hands. He's especially against the idea now that he's scrap metal. Even when you're lying in bed together, he tries to give you as much room as possible out of fear that you'll cut yourself on one of his parts.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

No. It's a nice thought, but what would he do with himself? He doesn't think he'll ever quit the detective business. He'll work till he drops. Regarding household chores, he's good with kids and keeping the utilities working, but that's the extent of his knowledge. The need for cooking left with human Nick, and Ellie usually organizes his files.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Quick and easy. He feels terrible about it, he really does, but you'd have to do something completely out of the left field for him to do so, so he wouldn't feel that horrible.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He's an old man, and because of that, he knows you shouldn't rush good things. Besides, there's no real benefit for you both getting married, but if you really wanted one, he wouldn't be against proposing to you. But know that he'd be fine without the ceremony as well.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

As gentle as he can be. He's well aware that his physical body is a bit rough around the edges, so he makes it a point to be as delicate as he possibly can around you. Emotionally, he's a bit harsher. He's an honest guy and likes to keep it 100% with everyone in his life. So, in that regard, he might be a bit brutish, but he means it out of love.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

There will never be a time when he initiates a hug. If you're in distress, he opts to comfort you through his words or by patting you on the back, but he'd never go out of his way to hug you. Again, he's terrified at the idea that he might cut you in some way. However, if you were to incite it, he'd reluctantly (and very gently) hug you back.

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says it almost immediately after you get together, although he says it in a casual way rather than a serious one. You'll get a particularly clean shot on a raider, and he'll comment something like, "Doll, I love ya."

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn't get jealous, but if someone's getting handsy with you, he'll be quick to intervene. He's protective, and if you look uncomfortable, then he's glad to come and put an end to whatever it is that's doing so.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He always kisses your hands and your cheeks. He's got that old-school husband mindset when it comes to affection, and he likes to keep them modest, especially out in public.

L - Little ones (How are they around children?)

Amazing. He knows he can be a little off-putting to children, so he always does his best when it comes to first impressions. Luckily, he has tons of stories he can tell that'll keep kids curious and attentive, and they always end up loving Nick.

M - Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It's usually just you, Nick, and Ellie down at his Agency. Ellie always has a pot of coffee ready by the time you wake up, and then the rest of the time is spent reading files with Nick or gossiping with Ellie.

N - Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Drug busts, criminal chases, murders, missing person cases. Boston's nightlife never lets up and always keeps him in business. So, if you're up for it, he's got a lot you can help him out with during these hours.

O - Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He opens up to you before you even get into a relationship. I feel like Nick would take his time when it comes to getting to know someone, and you'd have to have him all the way idolized before he even began asking you out.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

The only way you could make Nick angry is if you did something horrendous. If you killed a child, then he'd be pissed and leave you. But otherwise, he'll hardly ever lose his patience with you.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers the important stuff. Your birthday, your favorite color, your favorite places to visit. It's like he's got a whole case open on you. However, things that include him he finds more easy to forget. He's always got to rely on Ellie to remind him when your anniversary is, but if it's solely you, he keeps it all stored in the back of his mind.

R - Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Any moment that he can. He loves thinking back on all those times when you two were just having fun throwing snarky comments each other's way while on a case.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He keeps his pistol in his hand whenever you both are in a sketchier area and his coat around your shoulders when you're in a crowded bar. He's a gentleman, and, as such, he feels he needs to protect you whenever he can. Either physically or just by making others around you aware you're taken.

T - Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He tries? Nick's not always the greatest at setting dates up, but he certainly puts in the effort. His go-to with dates is picking a place to take you and then seeing where it goes from there. There's not much thought put into it. It's just a nice, spontaneous night.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Overworking himself. There are a lot of moments when you'd like to hang out with him or simply just talk, but he's too wrapped up in his work to pay any mind to it.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He keeps himself in a shape where he can continue operating normally, but that's it.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. In all honesty, you're one of the only things he has that his human counterpart hasn't. Being with you and knowing you give him a feeling of individuality that he never got before. So, if he were to lose you, he'd feel like he'd be starting all over again to work toward being himself instead of a pre-war stranger.

X - Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He writes poetry sometimes. It's not something he goes out of his way to show you, but he'll scrawl a few words down on a napkin and toss it into his drawer. He finds it to be a good way to get his thoughts out without actually going through any grueling writing process.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't think he'd mesh well with someone with violent tendencies or anger issues. It's just not what he's looking for, and is way too outgoing for him.

Z - Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He doesn't sleep. He works on cases or other chores all night while you do, though.

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Hello 👀 I see your asks are open and u write for One Piece so I'd like to ask for my 4 favorite strawhats, Sanji, Brook, Usopp, and Franky with a reader who is very romantic and likes to take them on dates and do really romantic gestures like buying flowers or randomly hugging them from behind and being generally flirty like a sort of Casanova but is not used to the same type of affection towards themselves so whenever it does happen they get sort of flustered or choked up.

For Sanji he cooks the reader a special dinner. For Brook he writes them a song. For Usopp he makes them like a matching ring. For Franky he maybe he puts on a special show of fireworks for them. And the moment is very special for both of them.

Thank u 💗💗

Yes my lovely!!! I'm honestly the same as the reader, so this was a fun thing to write and I think I fell in love with these characters a lil more.

G/n reader, and neutral nicknames. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: Cheesy, sappy romance. Reader crying from happiness from a romantic gesture. (these aren't really warnings but whatev) It's a lot of fluff y'all.

No spoilers, and all characters can be either pre or post timeskip. (except in Franky's version, because Usopp has his plants and seeds but that's it, and really you can pretend it's pre timeskip)

Brook

"Hey there, handsome. I brought you some tea" you said, winking at your boyfriend as you set the tray down.

"Ah! Thank you so much, I love you down to your bones! YOHOHOHOHOHO!"

You giggled at his bad joke, and curled your arms around him for a hug. You breathed in his scent- sea salt and paper, with an underlying scent of whatever he used to polish his violin. You nestled your face in his afro, letting it tickle your nose.

"Well I love your music" you whispered, pecking his cheekbone. He stiffened, and you could've sworn he was blushing, but it may have been a trick of the setting sun.

"Th-thank you" he answered, wrapping an arm around you as you sat beside him. You noticed scrapped paper crumpled into balls nearby, tossed carelessly behind the skeleton's shoulder.

"Whatcha workin on?" you asked. Brook spluttered on his tea, and you thumped his back.

"Ah! Nothing, nothing!"

You tilted your head in confusion, frowning. He never hid songs from you.

"C'mon babe, you know I'll love it even if it's bad"

"...I want it to be perfect before you hear it."

You looked at him, blinking. He was acting odd.

"Fine. But I'm taking you on a date tomorrow" you said, shrugging.

"Alright... Wait- that makes no sense!"

You laughed. In your mind it made perfect sense. He was working so hard on composing a song that he needed to be perfect even for you to hear- the person he trusted with his worst and best songs. If it needed to be perfect for you, it must be really stressing him out.

"Let me treat you since you've been working so hard on this" you said gently. Brook sighed, looking defeated as he slouched.

"Just... would you be so kind as to come see me tonight? Perhaps on the balcony of the crows nest?"

"Sure, the usual time?" you asked with a smile. He nodded, looking at you softly. Or at least you thought so, sometimes it was hard to tell, but usually you could read his emotions pretty well. You kissed his cheek as a goodbye and got up to go bother Sanji as he prepared dinner, hopefully sneaking bits of food when he wasn't looking.

Dinner was as delicious and chaotic as usual, but you noticed your boyfriend seemed a little out of it. Was that song bothering him more than he was letting on? Was something else going on? You decided to ask him about it when you met with him later. Dinner ended, and you decided to join Chopper, Luffy, Nami and Usopp in the aquarium for dessert and tea while playing a card game. You were surprised Brook wasn't joining, he always seemed to be around when tea was served.

You played a few rounds of the game, throwing down your cards in defeat as you groaned.

"Well losing is great and all, but I got a date with my lovely boyfriend. Have fun, guys!" You left with a smile and a wave. You climbed to the deck and then scaled the ropes up to the crows nest. An odd light was coming from the direction of the balcony, and you furrowed your brow. You entered the crows nest. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, silver pooling on the wood of the floor. It smelled nice for once, not like the usual sweat and booze of Zoro. You looked around, and gasped when your eyes fell towards the balcony.

A trail of rose petals lined by candles led to the balcony door, which was propped open. Cushions and blankets were deliberately placed to make a sort of nest, and more candles lit the area in a soft glow. The stars above shone bright, the full moon adding to the delicate light. Brook was standing looking out into the night. You took a few tentative steps forward, soaking in the floral scent of the rose petals.

Brook turned around, holding sheets of paper in his hand. If he had lips, you knew he'd be smiling softly at you.

"Brook..." you whispered, trailing off.

"Come here, my love." He held out a hand, and you followed the candle-lined trail into his arms. You held him tightly, crushing his ribs. He chuckled painfully.

"Please, sit down. I wrote this for you." His voice was deep and smooth, sending warmth cascading over you like a warm blanket.

"W-what is all this? Why?" You let go of him, bewildered. He eased you down to sit on the cushions and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. His feet shuffled him away behind two music stands you hadn't noticed before, each holding a piece of paper. He picked up his violin and bow, letting it hang a little in his grip.

"You do so much for me. You take me on dates, bring me things, listen and adore my music, and so much more. I wanted to do something for you, just because... well, you deserve it. I wrote this for you, but I'm still not sure I captured how just beautiful your soul is. So please, bear with me."

You tried so hard not to cry. Your throat was burning with the effort, and you could feel your eyebrows scrunched upwards. You looked at him with wide eyes, chin wobbling.

He chuckled at you, and brought up his violin to his chin, readying himself. He took a breath in, and began to play. It was beautiful, pure, and sweet. It had a slow tempo, but slowly increased as he opened his mouth to sing.

It was dark, all alone.

A promise I kept, but I yearned for death.

I met a man, who accepted me and took me in

and I thought I had a reason to live again.

But you. You stole my breath.

If I had a heart, you would've stolen it too.

The promises to keep living were almost forgotten

'cause when I'm with you, darlin

I could never wish for us to part

I may not have a heart, but I have a soul.

And that, I give you entirely.

Accept my love, because you've shown me yours.

Please, my angel.

Be mine, forever.

Tears were streaming down your face by the time the first word came out of his mouth, and by the time he ended the lyrics, you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the sobs. You wanted to listen to him, but you were so overwhelmed with love, you could only cry.

The music faded off with a gentle, smooth note, and you finally let yourself let out a sob. You heard shuffling from your boyfriend, and he grabbed one of your wet hands to place a handkerchief in it. You stuttered out a thanks and he brought you to his chest.

"Please tell me these are good tears" he murmured in your ear. You nodded frantically, and threw your arms around him.

"Please sing it again sometime. I can't handle it right now but another time? I just... I just love you s-so muuuuch!"

"Oh my angel. I love you too"

Note: I wrote the lyrics myself so if you don't like it don't tell me because I'm a baby

Franky

There were strange sounds coming from Franky's workshop, luring you to the belly of the Thousand Sunny to wonder what the hell your boyfriend could be doing. You approached the door, ignoring the 'keep out' signs that you knew weren't aimed at you. Muted voices you recognized as Usopp and Franky floated through the crack at the bottom of the door. You pressed your ear against the cool metal, picking up words here and there.

"...gotta be... for her... can you... shavings or would... better?" Franky's gravely voice muttered.

"Hmmm... be loud... but there's this that'll... does that sound alright?" Usopp responded. Obviously they were planning something, but what? Nobody's birthday was coming up, at least that you were aware of. Maybe Nami asked for some improvements on her weapon? You knocked, curious.

"Babe? It's me!" you called opening the door. You heard quick shuffling and a fearful squawk from Usopp.

"Oi! Careful! That stuff's explosive!" he hissed at your boyfriend.

A small smile curved your lips as you raised a brow. Franky was obviously hiding something behind his broad frame.

"Thought I told you to include me in projects with explosives" you teased, crossing your arms.

"I-I... Uh... It's not what it looks like!" Franky stuttered, waving his hands in front of his face. You giggled.

"Relax hon. I don't know enough about Nami's weapon to be of any help. I just heard some weird noises and wanted to see what was going on"

"Nami's-?" Franky was cut off with a loud exclamation from Usopp.

"Oh! You wanted to see my plants, right? See what they can do and how I harvest the seeds?"

That effectively caught your attention, despite the obvious tactic, and your eyes lit up in curiosity. His plants were much more interesting to you than the complexities of Nami's weather science.

"Oh right! I forgot I said that!"

"I have some spare time now, want me to show you?" he asked, with a smile as he crowded you towards the door. You glanced at your boyfriend over his shoulder. He just sent you a small wave with a grin.

"Bye my love! My sweetie! My genius cyborg! My-" Usopp cut you off as he shut the door, leaving you with an imprint of your boyfriend turning more into a blushing mess with each exclaimed pet name.

"Gross" he muttered. You stuck your tongue out at his back, but didn't say anything. You didn't want to ruin your rare opportunity for him to explain the weird plants he cultivated on board. The two of you talked for hours, getting distracted easily when the captain pulled the two of you into a weird game that you ended up winning, much to your confusion.

Eventually it was dinner, and Franky showed up late before promptly chugging some cola. He seemed... off. Nervous? Excited? Whichever it was, he was preoccupied. He barely spoke during dinner, and gave short answers when he was addressed. Dinner finally ended, and you were tasked with helping Sanji do dishes, but knew the cook would understand if you wanted to check on your boyfriend first.

"Franky?"

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. I'm fine" he said easily. You tilted your head, keeping eye contact.

"You seemed preoccupied during dinner."

Franky sighed, "I am. The project I'm working on... can you meet me tonight?"

You smiled and nodded eagerly. "Sure thing, I'll meet you after I finish helping Sanji out. How can I say no to my Superrrr hero?" you struck the pose he often did, wrists above your head and a wide grin on your face. It drew a laugh from Franky's broad chest, and the sound washed over you like a warm wave.

A hand gently ruffled your hair as he passed by. You caught it, and raised his knuckles to your lips. He smelled like metal. His cheeks tinged red as you let go of his hand and walked back into the kitchen, swaying your hips just a little more than usual to grab his attention. You looked over your shoulder, catching his gaze flicking up from your ass to meet your eyes. A blush tinged his cheeks and ears, and he quickly spun to walk out. You snorted, and exchanged a knowing look with the cook.

You talked pleasantly with Sanji, discussing each other's day. He asked about what you learned with Usopp, and you gladly filled him in. You asked him about his professional opinion as to whether he would change any of the dishes he served today at all, and he told you his plans. It was easy conversation that accompanied your dish washing system, making it seem to go by quickly. Soon enough, the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. You dried your hands, grabbing some cola from the fridge for you and Franky to share while he showed you your project. You happily said goodbye to Sanji, who sent you a knowing look. You blushed with a chuckle.

You made your way to the deck, searching for Franky.

"Oi! Up here!" he called. Your head whipped around towards the sound of his voice at the helm. You smiled, jogging up to him.

"I brought us some Cola!" you announced proudly, holding up the jug. He took it in his large hands and placed it on the ground with a soft smile. You cocked your head. Normally he opened it and offered you the first sip. What was he doing? He stepped back and gestured behind him.

"Come here. I want to show you something."

You were confused, but trusted him whole heartedly, so you stepped towards him. Once close enough, he put a hand on your shoulder and turned to reveal a cozy setup- a wide, freestanding hammock with pillows and blankets for optimal comfort. The hammock wouldn't curl up and around the person, but rather was held open by wooden slats at the short ends of the hammock that had holes drilled in for the many ropes that tied back to the wooden frame. The hammock material obviously had a high thread count according the the gentle sheen you could see in the moonlight. The wooden frame was carved into swirls, suns, and moons. You gasped. It was beautiful craftsmanship.

"This is the project? It's... amazing" you whispered.

"This? No. Just took a couple hours. The real project you haven't seen yet. Now sit down and get cozy!" he urged with a nudge on your lower back. You needed no further encouragement. You sunk into the hammock with an appreciative sound. He sat next to you, and you let yourself fall into his embrace under the blankets.

"So what's the real project?" you asked. Your new pillow rumbled as Franky laughed.

"You'll see." He pulled out a tiny den-den mushi and called someone on it. As soon as the person on the other end picked up, he said a simple order, a handsome smirk curving his lips.

"Light it up"

"Roger" Usopp replied from the other end. You gawked at your boyfriend. What in the-

BOOM

You flinched reflexively as the sound cracked through the sky, and you swung your gaze towards the direction of it. Beautiful colored streaked down in a sparking sphere before fading to nothing. You gaped at the sky, frozen in awe.

BOOM SHHHH BOOM

Firework after firework was set off, shape after shape. They slowly got more intricate. A blue star, tangerine, kitchen knife, katana, straw hat with a red ribbon, skull, slingshot, flower, pair of antlers, and finally, as the finale, a portrait of you. You gaped at the glimmering lights falling through the sky, painting a line drawing of what was undeniably, you. You looked beautiful though, smiling happily into the distance as your form faded into the stars.

"Franky..." you breathed. You clutched a fist over your chest, trying to fight down tears. He did this... for you? His large form shifted so he was looking at your face.

"Baby, now you see how I see you. You're the day to my night, the moon to my star. I love you with everything I am, but you fluster me too much for me to say much, and we're so busy every day that I can't find the time like this very often to show you. You deserve everything you could ever want. I love you."

His confession broke the weak dam that was holding back your tears, and you sniffled as you looked at him, gripping onto his unbuttoned shirt. You finally thudded your forehead against his hard chest, and he chuckled, running a hand up and down your back soothingly.

"Frankyyyyy!!!" you wailed. He held you closer, picking you up and letting you lay on top of him.

"It's okay. I know you love me too."

You nodded your head, unable to speak through the overwhelming emotions of love for your boyfriend.

(yes the carvings on the hammock and what he said were on purpose)

Sanji

You crept into the kitchen quietly, sneaking up behind the cook as he hummed to himself standing before the stove. There was only a single pan sizzling. You quickly wrapped your arms around his lithe waist, startling him.

"Wha-? AHN~~ MY LOVE!" he swayed dangerously on his feet, hearts in his eyes as he comprehended the situation. You giggled, and pecked the back of his neck. He turned in your arms, and hesitantly wrapped his own around you. The relationship was still somewhat new, and despite your assurances that you loved when he touched you (in any way), he still seemed hesitant. You had a hunch that he was so used to rejection that it was strange to be flirted with so blatantly, but he was adjusting.

"How's the best chef on the Grand Line?" you cooed. He tensed a little at the compliment.

"Best chef on the Grand Line, huh?"

"Of course! But I had a question for you"

He pulled back slightly, his ear twitching towards the pan behind him. He spun the two of you around so your back was facing the stove, and he stirred the ingredients.

"Yes, mon amour? Do you need a snack? Or want me to try a recipe? or do you need a drink? I got some fresh fruit at the last-"

"Sanji!" you said, laughing as you looked at him. He blushed, realizing he was rambling again.

"Sorry! What did you want to ask?"

You cradled his cheeks in your hands, looking deep into his eyes, a smile curving your lips.

"Have you thought about it? What you'll cook when you find the All Blue?"

His blue eye widened, and his jaw was slack. His hands froze behind you, stopping his precise movements.

"Y-you... I don't... mon... Mon Ange" he stuttered and whispered. You cocked your head at the French phrase, not having heard it before.

"Hm?"

In response, he shifted one hand to rest on the middle of your back, and the other curled around your hand that was on his cheek. He swung you to the side, dipping you as he kissed you deeply. Your squeak in response was swallowed by his lips, and a quiet moan squeezed from his chest. You kissed him back desperately, your free hand gripping his flexed bicep as he held you up. He tasted of tobacco and the savory dish he was preparing. He pulled back, licking the connecting string of saliva from his lips with a devilish smirk. He still held you at an angle, hovering above the ground. He placed your hand he was holding gently onto his shoulder, and traced a finger down your arm and held the back of your neck. His thumb brushed over your jaw, and he brought his hand forward to run the back of his index finger down your cheek. You were so sure he could feel the heat of the blush radiating from your skin.

"My Angel" he whispered. You blinked at him. He huffed a small chuckle and pulled you back onto your feet so you were in the same position as before. Your knees felt weak from the sudden display of affection, but he held you steady in his arms.

"Yeah... what?"

"Mon Ange means My angel. That what you are to me."

"O-oh... thank you?"

He smiled, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Don't thank me for telling the truth, darling"

You giggled almost deliriously and hid your face in his chest as he resumed his movements stirring the food on the stove. You stayed there a few more moments, basking in his radiating warmth and adoration. You finally turned your face up to his, a smile curving your lips.

"I came in for a glass of water. Luffy decided that he's going to teach me one of his made up games."

Sanji hummed, smirking.

"Let me know if you need anything stronger than water to get through it" he teased. You rolled your eyes. It couldn't be that bad right? Luffy was... simple.

"I'll let you know" you said, pecking his cheek. You tried to slip from his grip but a hand caught your wrist gently. You looked back, curious. His pale cheeks were tinged a soft pink, and his blue eye flicked between the pan and you, as if he couldn't decide what to look at.

"Sanji?"

He cleared his throat a little.

"Tonight... would you do me the honor of having a private dinner with me?"

You felt your face heat, and you looked to the side, hoping futilely to hide your flustered expression.

"O-of course!"

His hand slid to cradle yours, and he brought your knuckles up to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on each one before flipping your hand to kiss your palm and the inside of your wrist. You couldn't help but stare at his movements, entranced in the feeling and the pure adoration emanating from is actions. His one visible eye finally met yours with a soft smirk.

"Merci, Mon amour"

Your stomach swooped with butterflies, and you were frozen in place, too flustered to look away or move. You felt your lips start to curve in a dopey lovesick smile.

The door to the eating area suddenly banged open, startling you out of your daze.

"SANJI!! I'M HUNGRY!" Luffy whined. You jumped back, snatching your hand from Sanji's grip. You were usually fine with the PDA he showed you, but the moment felt too intimate to share with anyone else. You could only giggle as the cook turned to glare threatening at your captain.

"Food'll be done soon." he replied in a clipped voice. Luffy blinked at his tone, but was quickly distracted with the scent of the snack Sanji was cooking. You watched as deft, elegant hands plated the food and shoved it towards the ever-hungry captain.

"Thanks for the food!" Luffy chirped to the blonde. He turned to you.

"C'mon! Help me prank Usopp!" He grabbed the plate and bounded out the door without waiting for your response to the sudden change in plans.

"Bastard's a pain in my ass" your boyfriend grumbled under his breath. He handed you the glass of water you had came into the kitchen for. You giggled at his crankiness towards Luffy.

"He can be. I'll see you tonight though, okay? Let me know if I can do anything to help. I'll even wrangle Luffy and Zoro for you"

Sanji rolled his eyes at the name of the swordsman.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but the damn marimo would only sully your hands"

A shout of your name from the deck called you into action. You pressed a quick peck to both of Sanji's cheeks, his forehead, and finally his lips before parting with a final kiss to the back of his hand.

"I'll be waiting for you, my prince!" you cried dramatically as you exited the door. Hearts danced in Sanji's eyes and he swayed as he clutched at his chest.

"AHN~~ MY LOVE!" He collapsed to his knees dramatically as you closed the door.

"Disgusting" rumbled a deep voice from nearby. You rolled your eyes.

"Oh shut the fuck up and go wash your stank, hairy ass, Zoro" you griped. He nearly choked on his sake at your language. You cheerfully ran off to make mischief with the captain, ignoring the swordsman's indignant "Oi!" from behind you. You hoped Sanji heard your remark. Loud laughter from the kitchen made you think he did.

~~~~

It was hours later when you finally were getting ready for the date. You had a busy day, between pranking Usopp, saving Luffy when he fell overboard from Usopp's retaliation, and trying to get Franky to teach you more about the mechanics of the ship. Your brain hurt from the cyborg's lecture, and you finally gave up and decided that you probably just wanted to tinker around with things like Usopp does. That ended rather quickly after you had to make a trip to visit Chopper not even five minutes of working with Usopp.

You dried off the rest of your body from the shower, looking through your clothes for an outfit. This was obviously a date, so you wanted to look somewhat decent. You finally decided on an outfit that was appropriate for the warm weather, and knew highlighted Sanji's favorite features of yours. You stepped out of your room, wondering where on the ship the cook set up.

"Ready?"

You looked to the side. Leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette was just the man you were looking for. You smiled, nodding.

"You look amazing." He stepped forward to kiss your cheek, and pulled back to look into your eyes

"You said you'd do anything for me right?" he murmured. You nodded.

"Close your eyes for me, my love."

You looked him, curious. He held up a silken tie with a smirk.

"It's going to be a surprise, so close your eyes please."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you followed instructions. The silken strands of the tie tickled your cheeks and eyes. He tied it loosely enough so it just barely touched your lashes, but still somehow stayed up. You felt him step away, as if admiring his work. Strong arms suddenly swept you off your feet, and you just about swooned with the pure strength that was hidden under his typical long sleeves.

He carried you through the ship, and you felt somewhat ridiculous like this, but you wouldn't change it for anything. Keeping your eyes closed made you feel more aware of your surroundings. You could guess as to where he was taking you, but you didn't know for sure.

He finally came to a stop and lowered you to a standing position.

"Keep your eyes closed while I take off the blindfold" he warned. You nodded slightly, anticipation whirling in your gut. His hands dragged up your arms, behind your ears, and finally drifted to the knot behind your head. The silky material released easily, caressing your face with a cool touch. You heard him take a deep breath, as if to calm himself.

"O-okay. Open your eyes"

You blinked a few times to let yourself adjust to the light, and gasped in awe. You were in the aquarium bar. Fairy lights draped from the ceiling, adding a soft light to the area. A table was set up in front of the aquarium glass with a crisp white cloth, fancy plates and bowls and silverware, and a rose placed with obvious care over one. You looked to the side, noticing what looked to be a portable cooking station nearby. Fresh seafood sat in an ice tray nearby. What-?

Sanji cleared his throat, obviously nervous at your lack of response.

"I-I can change a few things, of course. But since you asked earlier, I thought I'd show you what I'd want to cook once we find the All Blue... will you cook and dine with me?"

Overwhelming love and affection washed over you. He was letting you intimately see and experience his passion. You couldn't help but get choked up.

"S-Sanji!" you all but slammed into him, hugging him desperately. His arms wrapped around your back hesitantly.

"Is this too much? Is this bad? Why are you crying my love? Please, I'll do anything"

You let out a wet chuckle at his frantic response. His arms tightened around you.

"It's g-good tears, love. God I'm so in love with you I can't help but cry. Of course I'll cook with you!"

He pulled back, holding you so your hips were still flush but he could look into your eyes. All he could see was unbridled joy and happiness through the tears, a genuine grin puffing your cheeks. He quickly swooped in and kissed away the tears with tiny pecks, tickling you. Your laughter sounded like the bells of heaven to him.

"Mon Ange, I love you."

hhhhhnnnggggg i love this man so much he's such a romantic and so am i and just sdkljlkdfjdfsfdsjil

Usopp

"Usopp! My love! My dearest boyfriend! Captain of 8,000 men!" you called liltingly as you waltzed into his workshop. You snapped your gaze over to him as you heard sudden fumbling and a muttered curse.

"O-oh hey!" he responded, obviously hiding something behind his back. You furrowed your brow. He was always begging to show you his inventions, no matter the failure. He always showed you what he learned.

"What uh... what you got there hon?" You were almost fearful of what he was hiding. You had experienced his slingshot ammunition first hand, and knew he was a prankster. Put those together and you had no clue what you could be in for.

"N-nothing!" he squeaked. He was turning into a really bad liar. You raised a brow, highly skeptical.

"Uh huh. You know better than to prank me in certain ways, right?"

"I do, I do!"

You narrowed your eyes at him. His gaze flicked around the room, avoiding yours. He cleared his throat exaggeratedly.

"So did you need something?"

You sighed with a smile and a shake of your head. If he pranked you, he knew the consequences.

"Oh yeah! Sanji has lunch ready if you're hungry."

His gaze lit up at the mention of food, and immediately turned back around towards his desk. He rummaged around for a second before turning back to you with a wide smile.

"Let's go before Luffy eats it all!" he said, dragging you with him to the deck.

Lunch was great as usual, but Usopp delved back into his workshop after eating enough to make him full. You kept yourself occupied during the afternoon by playing a game with some crewmates. It was obvious he wanted to keep it a surprise for you, and you respected that, but you couldn't stop thinking about it. What would it be? How would he prank you? Was it even a prank? Was it something bad? Why did he want to keep it a secret?

A tap on your arm grabbed your attention again, and you turned towards Chopper.

"It's your turn again. Are you okay? You keep zoning out"

"Hm? Yeah I'm fine. Usopp was just acting a little strange earlier but I'm sure it's either another prank or something like that" you shrugged, grabbing the dice to roll. Chopper hummed at you, quickly absorbed back into the board game.

~~~~

Dinner rolled around, another amazing meal courtesy of Sanji. Usopp showed up late, but you had protected his plate fiercely from the hungry captain.

"No! My boyfriend has been working really hard on a project ALL DAY and needs some food! Take Zoro's or Nami's food!" you chided. Luffy pouted, and you ignored Zoro's and Nami's sounds of indignation. Sanji finally stepped in with an extra plate just for Luffy.

The door finally opened, and your expression changed quickly to a grin as you laid eyes on your long-nosed lover.

"I saved your plate!" you exclaimed, patting the seat beside you. Usopp returned your smile, and eagerly sat next to you. Everyone on the crew knew what it meant to keep a plate untouched from Luffy.

"How was your day?" he asked around a mouthful of food. You started chatting away about the games you played. You started describing how you kept zoning out because you were so curious about his creation.

"That's what I love about you though. Your curiosity and imagination" he murmured in your ear. Heat flooded to your face, and his words effectively shut you up. He looked at you after you were silent for a minute, staring at your now-empty plate. You saw him smiling sheepishly out of the corner of your eye as he shoved the last bite of food into his cheeks, puffing them out. He leaned forward, and booped the tip of his long nose on your temple, almost in place of a kiss.

Dinner finished quickly after that, and your boyfriend gently grabbed your wrist and guided you out of the eating area. He lead you onto the deck, and brought you up to Robin's flower garden. His hand shifted to cup yours, palms touching as he held your hand up. His palms felt clammy, and he shifted anxiously.

"You okay babe? What's going on?" His nervousness was affecting you.

"I had a whole speech, but for once... it doesn't feel right for the moment."

He took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled slowly as he stared at your joined hands. You waited patiently, curious but not wanting to press him. He looked into your eyes determinedly.

"You... I love you. So much. I love what you do for me. You take care of me all the time, and profess your love every day. You love me for who I am, all of me. I just- I want to show you. I don't feel like telling you like this is enough. I want you to be reminded of my love for you every damn day like you show me every day, so... I made something for you."

His free hand reached into his pocket bringing out a pair of matching rings. They were stunning, smooth, and shiny; simple, but intricate. You loved it.

"Usopp..." you whispered in reverence. Tears pricked your eyes at the sentiment.

"I want to promise you that I love you, through my bad days, through my cowardice, through anything. I made these rings so we can always know the other loves us. One day, I'll make you a better ring and propose to you with it, but will you accept this for now? As a promise for my love?"

You blinked, tears streaming down your face, framing your grin with wet trails.

"Of course, I'd be honored to accept your love" you repeated the line you said when he first asked you to date him. He grinned in response, tears shining along his long lashes.

He put the ring on, and you couldn't help but notice it fit perfectly. You stared at your joined hands, now decorated with matching rings that promised a future. You laughed wetly, and jumped into his arms. He laughed and spun you around once before he placed your feet back on the ground and kissed you. He nipped at your lips gently, smiling into the kiss. You couldn't help but return his grin, and you both had to pull back so your teeth wouldn't clack together.

"I love you, Usopp"

"I love you more" he answered.

I actually liked writing for Usopp more than I thought I would!

I'm so sorry this took me forever to get out! I've been swamped with my depression and my job with hellish hours but I loved writing this, and wouldn't mind doing more fluff for more characters :)

[batrogers]

Don't Touch My Brother

Fanfic written for @queering-the-chain, alternate prompt "standing up to hate."

Rated T for moderate violence and harassment, approx. 1000 words.

Also on AO3

IIII

They were in Wild’s Hyrule, which was at least extremely distinct: the stables were a bit surprised to see a group like theirs, but it was workable and the area was usually more than safe enough for them to camp outside. They had a whole area near the river to use, which put Link’s teeth on edge: he was still getting used to how much everyone trusted water. Back home, it was at best contaminated and liable to make you sick. At worst, something would sneak out and eat you.

‘Something’, Link thought, and laughed under his breath. That ‘something’ was Zora, which seemed to be a game of chance, which of them thought of them as people and which hostile animals. He’d never quite figured out if they were mixing up species or not yet....

Still, the stable seemed confident in the river’s stability and Link set his jaw and walked off to find Wild again. If they were going to keep winding up by river’s like this, he really did need to learn how to swim.

Wild wasn’t that far. He’d settled down by the communal cookpot again, but apparently he’d gotten cornered while he did so. Link didn’t want to cause them any problems, but still – he meant it, about asking, and the others had gotten distracted by the dozen little chores of settling in: Twilight, with Epona, Time and Warriors talking to the other travellers, Sky and Legend with laundry, and Four and Wind with whatever teenagers did to stay calm.

Well. Normal teenagers.

For his part, Link pulled out some of his own work: doing his best to repair his last doll, destroyed in the Dollmaker’s courtyard a little over a week ago now. So recently? He thought, and considered what other scraps he could use to patch the hole in the side. He had options from old damaged tunics, and he flipped through the bag in his lap.

Across the fire, he could hear Wild and the other man talk – well. More the other man was talking, and Wild was listening. Perhaps better phrased, he was ignoring him.

“You showed up here with a group, didn’t you? They looked like nothing much,” the man said. “Are they making you cook for them?”

Link suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. The man wasn’t paying much attention if he didn’t realize one of that group had joined them.

“C’mon, you’re a good cook. I’ll bet they don’t even care about your skill, just shovel it down. Treat it like its worthless. Why do you bother?”

Link watched Wild’s mouth tighten, but he kept silent still, eyes fixed on the pot in front of him and stirring quietly. He was upset; Link could see that much, but he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t yet told the man to back off. He might’ve just been being polite, and if that was the case...

Did Wild even realize Link had joined him? He was so tense.

But was he keeping silent on purpose?

“Does that really need that much attention?” the guy continued. He got up, then, and reached out—

Link’s hand was on his sword at about the same moment Wild whirled and cracked the spoon in his hand into the man’s arm.

“Don’t touch me,” Wild snarled. “For fuck’s sake!”

Link saw the moment the man realized he’d made a mistake, but he didn’t quite realize which one until he’d lashed out and punched Wild in the face.

“What the fuck do you go dressed like a girl for?” the man snarled. “You fucking tricked me—”

He shut up when Link’s hand hit his throat. Link stopped, braced with his nails dug into his skin for several long seconds until he let go and let the man drop to the ground, wheezing for breath and – Link knew – dizzy.

Dizzy because he’d been about three seconds from holding on long enough he didn’t get back up.

“Don’t fucking touch me or my brother again,” Link hissed. “I don’t care what mistakes you made; that’s on you, not him. Maybe if you didn’t chat up anyone pretty and silent you wouldn’t feel this humiliated when they turned you down.”

The man scrambled back to his feet, several steps further back from where he’d hit the ground and spat at Link’s feet.

“Keep your whore,” he snarled. “Fucking—”

“If you finish that statement, I’ll cut out your tongue,” Link said, loudly, hearing Time and Warrior’s footsteps move from wood to sand.

“What happened?” Warriors snapped.

The man tried to start walking back, skirting them at the fire as it to go towards the stable, and Warriors unsheathed his sword without another word. He pointed it at the man’s chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“My things are inside.”

“Then you can come get them later tonight,” Warriors said. “Get lost.”

Link watched the man throw another small fit before he walked off, then turned and smiled tiredly at Warriors. “Thanks.”

“What happened?”

“He got mad when he realized Wild was a guy.”

Warriors spun, still furious, and Link went to check on the food, because as much as Wild was protesting to Time he was fine, it was just a bruise... Link could see he was shaking. He swallowed hard, and wished he’s stepped in sooner but. He hadn’t known. He waited until Time let Wild sit down again before he asked,

“How many times has that happened?”

Wild shot him a dirty look and sat back in place. He didn’t answer, and that was answer enough for Link. He sighed, but – there was no point arguing. He looked up, and Time and Warriors seemed to realize it, too. Without asking, they took seats around the fire, and Link forced a smile.

“I came over to ask if you’d teach me to swim, after we eat,” he said, and the tension slowly faded from Wild’s shoulders. “If you’d like?”

“...Alright,” Wild agreed, but he gained a little more confidence – a little more sure that they meant it, and the matter was done. “I can do that, sure.”

“I should probably learn too,” Warriors said, and the last of the unease faded away.

It was over, for now, and Link hoped it didn’t have to come up again.

[yearningaces]

What would Declan do if his heart starts calling him my heart?

Too good not to answer I apologize this is a braindead but canon response

He'll freeze whatever he's doing.

Walking? No he aint

Cooking? Not anymore

About to bash someone's skull in? He knows no one but you

At first you think he's about to hit his knees in devotion like usual. The surprise is that he doesn't. He's in your space within a few long strides, your hand in his and he's pressing your hand to his chest where there's...

Nothing.

Not a pulse beat, nor a breath inhaled. It's just heat. Solid silent heat.

You're running through the stages of grief over realizing he doesn't have a heart beating in his chest but he's completely calm, amused, enamored and so so adoring.

Declan lowers himself slightly, pressing his forehead to yours and moving your intertwined hands to settle over your own steady heartbeat.

And he speaks

"You are my heart in every form of the words. You are my love, you are my purpose, my morality, my care, my happiness, my adoration. I am nothing at your feet, nothing but a rabid beast begging for a scrap of attention from the heart concealed within your beautiful skin." He's so steady in his words, so point of fact and unashamed to be little more than a living weapon that's placed itself into your palm to be used however you see fit.

He isn't done though, taking advantage of the closeness to slowly kneel in front of you, large heavy hands grasping gently onto both of your upper thighs, feeling the beloved squish under his palms and his intentionally gentle grasp. His gaze is up at you directly before his head bows, intentionally kneeling and lowering and bowing and deferring to you as an apostle to its life's purpose. His words are so ironclad as he speaks. "My heart has always been the one in your chest, this is why you are the decider of my every moment, your will be done by my own hands. I am no heart, my beloved. But I will be yours, I have been since your heart beat it's first time, I will be long after this world is rid of us both. I will be your weapon, I will be your love, I will be your loyal dog.... So long as you allow me"

[rustywolf14]

Something I've been wanting to draw for a while now, the crews of not only Captain Kipper but also his nemesis Lord Tiberius! This also counts as my contribution to doggust lol

Some info about all these sea dogs (and cat):

Captain Kipper: Good ol' Kipper! Just a fella with a love for the sea. Makes sure everything is in tip-top-shape at all times with both his crew and his ship. In charge of maintaining order in whatever his crew is in charge of, be it transporting goods or people, helping the local fishermen by providing extra paws on deck or even visiting the local merfolk populations and trading goods

Edward: The captain's second in command! If for whatever reason Kipper is unable to make it to an excursion or is overwhelmed with his current duties Edward is here to provide a helping paw or take his place. Hasn't had as much experience as the captain and tends to worry and overthink more when things get messy

Rachel: No crew is complete without a good cook! Rachel's one resourceful pup, able to make a tasty meal to feed whole crews with scraps if needed! Friends with Wellers and hangs with him from time to time to exchange recipes (He's one talented cook!) Also not afraid to step into action if the situation calls for it, she knows her way around several knives!

Cody: The newest member of the crew, the ship's cabin boy and lookout! Keeps the boat spick-and-span, with him you can guarantee the wood is polished, the steering wheel's oiled, and even the pillows are fluffed. Also mans the crows nest of the ship, keeping an eyes on the waters for signs of trouble or finding the nearest land to dock in

Thomas: Bit of an odd one out in an all-dog-crew, the resident ship's cat, Thomas nonetheless is just as important to the ship as the rest! Keeps rats and other pests away (such as those annoying seagulls, thinking they own the place!) and is also in charge of maps, his sharp eyes and excellent sense of direction makes sure the crew is headed right were they're supposed to be, rough waters be damned!

Lord Tiberius: Selfish and cruel, this pirate cap- LORD is Kipper's complete polar opposite! Ruling his ship with an iron fist and quick to anger, you don't want to mess with this captain's goal to steal as much treasure as his gold-obsessed heart desires!

Tugboat: This tank of a dog serves as the closest to a second mate Tiberius will allow. Usually his towering presence is enough to deter enemies if he spots them during lookouts but has no qualms about stepping into a scuffle sword at paw! Is also in charge of ship repairs and maintenance, a lot needs fixing when your ship is constantly taking in canon-fire

Andy: Andy, or more commonly referred to as "you little welp!" by the Lord has it rough in these waters! Not only is he the second smallest, least intimidating resident but as the resident cabin boy, Tiberius tends to throw ALL chores and any other duties not able to be done by other members at him, including but not limited to: swabbing the decks, polishing the treasure (but don't look at it to much!) manning the crows nest (what do you mean you're scared of heights, GO!) steering (well, you'll learn now!) among others. Not helping is the fact he's scared of loud noises. Which happen. A LOT. "Why did I take this job again?!?!"

Wellers: Cook. Weapons handler. A dog of few words. Friends with Rachel.

Pipsqueak: A fella with a personality just as explosive as the canons he (enthusiastically) works with! Loud, reckless and fast, he more than makes up for his small size in helping out in finding treasure and getting rid of pests. Tends to "talk" on Wellers behalf a lot, the latter of which just gives a snort or hum in response. Doesn't get why Tiberius won't let him arm the ship with a bazooka or two, he can be trusted! Promise!

[asfateentertwines]

Love languages

Spiders love languages are acts of service and quality time

He spent a large amount of time alone and figuring things out for and by himself so having people put the attention on him is his weakness

He's embarrassed to admit it but he loves attention. Kiri is the only sibling to realize how much he'll preen under it and teases him for it relentlessly

Similarly, he's one to show his love by trying to help them and give them his time, however, the favor is only ever returned by his siblings. Hence, it gets him flustered to be the target of help or focus

Lucky for him, Rotxo is exactly this type

Rotxo's love language is also acts of service but also gift giving. He loves to make things for those he loves and puts his time towards them to show it

Much like Spider, reversing this onto him will fluster him to oblivion

Hence, their courting is the bane of all the kids existences

They're both usually in the background and so neither can handle it when they're brought to attention

Spider will go hunting for coastal animals for Rotxo since it's a rarer event in the Metkayina meals to have land food

He and his brothers take it upon themselves to help change that, but Spider will specifically snag cuts of meat for Rotxo since he loves to cook

He also makes Kiri help him find herbs and such similar to what they had a home which he helps Rotxo explore when he cooks

There's a lot of nights they end up eating scraps cause Spider isn't exactly the best one to show him how to cook. A, he has little talent for it and B, he couldn't eat half of what he grew up around

Rotxo ends up tentatively approaching Neytiri (who actually terrifies him despite him growing up with Ronal) to get help in cooking Omaticaya foods

She's adopted Spider at this point, but their relationship is still not nearly as close as it is with her other children so it's one of the ways she starts to mend that bridge

Rotxo and Neytiri bond over feeding their families and sharing their cultures recipes

Rotxo also puts more effort into finding human-friendly foods. He refuses to accept that his mate can't have the good foods he loves just because of some measly poison

Spider has accidentally been poisoned several times but doesn't have the heart to tell Rotxo to stop trying or to deny trying his creations

If they cook together, Spider is on chopping and cutting since he has the best knife skills and the least cooking skills

Rotxo is a solid chef but has a questionable palette at time and has made some rather interesting meals that only pass by the questionable tastes of teenage boys

By the time they're young adults, Neteyam and Tsireya have to step in and help them make better decisions

While Spider brings gifts from land, Rotxo likes to bring Spider gifts from the water

Even with his mask, Spider isn't able to get but so deep before the pressure bothers his head

He's a strong swimmer and keeps up normally but there's certain limits his human body can't breach

So Rotxo will dive for him and bring him little gifts

Shells and rocks are common for his braids or the jewelry he's now covered in but Rotxo also brings him little bottom-feeders so he can see it all. He'll bring the little creatures to show Spider before he'll thank them and return them

Spider just sits on his ilu or whatever rocks they've found and grins, watching this giant race to and from to show him whatever it is he's found this time

On the note of jewelry, they're both covered in necklaces, beaded clothing pieces, and bracelets that they've made for one another. shells, stones, bone beads, and whatever else they find adorn them both. Rotxo can't always wear so many in the water so he'll wrap his spear and daggers in them and leave the rest to decorate their marui. Spider, on the other hand, has most of his on at all times

It reminds him that he's wanted, that someone loved him enough to make them

Spider grew up working with some of the elders and mothers making garments for the clan and so he gifts Rotxo with belts and shoulder-guards he made with his cultures skills and Rotxo's styles and resources.

Neytiri has to help a lot, women is keeping them both together in a lot of ways

Rotxo sorts through his clothes to try and wear them all, he loves the feeling of being loves and shown off when he wears what Spider has made him

Gift giving between the two is constant

They also are one of the best teams when they work together

While other couples (Lo'ak and Tsireya) work together and struggle to get through tasks, they play off of one another constantly

They meet in the middle very well and are just very in tune with one another

With their jobs, Spider working among the clan or on the coast and Rotxo being a diver and warrior, they don't get to work together as often as they like so when they do, it's a sight

They're the type to finish one another’s task without care or notice. Both grew up as someone's right hand and being in the background so hard work is nothing new

Similarly, they're deadly as a duo

Spider will literally use Rotxo as a spring board and combine strength and agility in a deadly combination

They have each other's back at the end of the day no matter what

Everything comes back to wanting the other to never feel alone or unwanted

They just love to take care of one another man

[ghostmedia-dot-co]

Hi hi hi😼 can you write hazel and booker (from uprooted) fluff for me pls thank you🫶🫶🫶 (take your time btw!!)

Ooo! Wasn’t expecting any actual requests tbh, I just be writing shit in my free time :33(I’m doing headcanons and a little Drabble to go w/ these)

Rating: fluff

Booker

You and booker are a dynamic duo, one’s never too far from the other. Mainly cause booker trails you to make sure you don’t do anything stupid with the others

He loves to sing songs to you in your guys free time, often in hotels or when camping he’ll sing songs to you while you cook for group or are cleaning whatever needs to be cleaned

He will often dump his chores onto you, but he’s also a little more willing(JUST A LITTLE) to do anything you don’t want to do or help you. He’ll often OFFER to help you do your chores if you help him, but you end up doing a slight majority of the work

Believes you’re a total equal to him(sometimes even above him) so he feels just slightly more comfortable on relying on you to help him with certain things. Despite his slacker personality he often finds it hard to totally rely on people and he’s ever the more grateful to be able to relax his shoulders with you around

The night air was whistling past your ears, the darkness of the sky left the skin beneath your fur feeling cold to the touch. It was late at night and despite your rather lavish hotel room you couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard you tried to close your eyes they always found themselves open wide to stare at your ceiling. It wasn’t for a particular reason, you weren’t sad or worried. Everything was peaceful, booker lay next to you snoring softly. Everyone was at ease and calm, you supposed you could just pause for a while and listen to the nature around you.

Suddenly your ears twitched, fearing familiar feet scrap the floor behind you. Too lazy and too tired to bother lifting his feet, rather to drag them. You felt a head on your shoulder as he laid on your back, still tired. His body felt hot compared to the cold nighttime air you had grown use to. It was peaceful and quiet for just a moment, until you heard a loud groaning whine in your ear.

“Come back to bed” he whined, stretching the end of the sentence out long to show you how upset he was.

“I can’t sleep, could you sing to me?” You insisted.

It was rather silly, but you had grown so use to booker singing to you in your free time. You thought back to all that had happened in the evening to realize that booker didn’t sing to you at all. He was busy making plans to help his dad, while you had to help Jean Claude with faking his accounting scheme; then everything got flipped on its head, and you were back to trying to figure out what to do. The day had been long and when booker hit the pillow he was gone. You didn’t even have time to sit together and talk, he couldn’t sing you any songs.

You heard a loud yawn right next to you as booker wrapped his arms around your torso, hugging you tight. Without a single protest or groan, he began to murmur a sweet little song. It was something different from what he usually sang to you. Most nights he’d sing to you, songs with complex meanings. Songs that showed off his vocal talent and that made his voice sound like smooth caramel candy. This song was something simple, a song he knew by heart. It was a simple nursery rhyme, one from Muckbed. The words were simple and the melody was repeating, but what you heard was the sweetest song you’ve ever heard play against your ears. It was something deeper in his heart, more than any of those fancy songs to impress you. It made you feel at peace and at home, with you in his arms.

As he finished you were being guided away from the balcony back to the bed and soon booker was lying on top of you, snoring into your soft fur. As you began to drift away and fall asleep.

Hazel

The mischief you two cause is amazing. Although you two have the most sweetest adorable faces, you two come up with the most elaborate schemes to get a couple cookies

Hazel often comes to you for advice and encouragement, she doesn’t need it just likes hearing it. She trusts you to let her know she’s right and her idea IS good(you always agree with her)

No matter what whacked out plan she has, you manage to clean it up and make it somewhat do able. Of course it’s mainly bakeries and restaurants. You two know every restaurant like the back of your hands, it’s quiet remarkable the things you two manage to get up to

You two cover for each other really well being able to hide and lie for the other like you two are the same person, especially when it’s from soldiers and booker. Great minds think alike!

Even so, when it comes to you touching her food. Suddenly your years long partnership in both crime fighting and romance are suddenly gone, and she becomes a noir detective to crack the case and get the culprit.

It was currently free time, a lazy afternoon. Hazel rummaged through her bag, looking for their last danish pie she had stolen. A sweet little treat she could not beat. As she searched through her bag, grief struck her heart as she realized that there was nothing left in the bag. She looked up, disgruntled and disappointed. Looking up at you, whining sadly as she crawled into your lap. She lamented about her stolen pastry and how you two ‘have to find the thieving culprit’ not understanding the irony in it all, knowing you two stole said pastries from a bakery last night. You gently stroked her ears in solidarity, trying to not stir suspicion for you were to blame for the crimes.

As you tried to comfort your dearest, suddenly she jolted up. Staring intently into your mouth, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. As quickly as she got up suddenly her nose was in your mouth, taking a deep whiff of it. As she pulled back, you saw the disappointment and betrayal in her eyes as she smelled the blood of your crimes in your mouth.

“It was you! You ate my last pie!” She accused you, jamming her finger into your chest.

You looked up at her, flabbergasted and totally guilty. You shook your head and desperately tried to defend yourself. It wasn’t you, it couldn’t be you, you were helping Grumley clean his ears. Alas, your attempts were futile for you both knew.

Hazel then began lecturing you, telling you how rude it is to steal someone’s left overs. How upset she truly is with you, and how she may never forgive you. Upset and betrayed she shuffles away to go complain to Bitsy, leaving you alone and needing to make things right. For as silly as it is, you needed to make things right.

As Hazel set up your camps, having forgotten and forgiven you, she hums to herself gently waiting for you to arrive to take your place in your sleeping bags. After a while longer than she liked, you shuffle over hiding something behind your back. Curiously, hazel looks at you, a little nervous and excited

“What you got behind your back?” She inquires, her eyes sparkle with excitement.

You smile gently, and pull the small cake you managed to bake. Showing off the amateur treat off proudly. Hazel gasps taking the cake in into her hands.

“I made this because I felt bad about eating your danish, I had to break back into the bakery to get the supplies and bake it. It’s probably not that good but I don’t bake.” You told her, as you watch her stuff almost all of it into her mouth in one go.

Pulling her hand away you see she saved you a piece of the cake “it’s wonderful! This is the best cake I’ve ever had, well, that’s not true the ones at hamiltoads mansion were like really professional, but this one’s the sweetest cake!” She proclaims through a mouth full of frosting and cake.

You take a bite of your own treat, and it definitely wasn’t the best cake a little dry and too crumbly. It was still the perfect treat though, because it was for hazel. You two quietly enjoyed your treat and laid down to rest.

[bucket-barnes]

(Suggestion from @shouldwemaybe)

Isle Christmas traditions

The Isle of the lost isn’t a place many would consider “merry”…quite the opposite actually, joy is an unknown emotion to most residents of the Isle, schadenfreude sure, but not any forms of Joy or merriment. When winter rolls around, and when Auradonians start getting ready for the holidays, Isle residents find their own ways to celebrate…though that term is used loosely, more so “things done to make the winter more bearable”.

The pirates often found winter to be the ample time for “caroling”, or more accurately “getting drunk and singing sea shanties at the top of your lungs to distract yourself from the frostbite” (pirate ships aren’t exactly known for being warm places to sleep). This was a tradition that the lost revenge crew found themselves partaking in during Uma’s absence (Uma wasn’t very fond of the tradition as the pirates drunken singing often drove away customers). Harry, as de facto captain in Uma’s absence, was definitely a leader in this intoxicated choir, because if he drank enough rum and sang enough shanties…who’s to say his fingertips weren’t turning dark blue? Severe frostbite? No! You’re just drunk! (Safe to say Uma was less than pleased once Gil spilled the beans after she asked him where all the new scars on Harry’s hands came from)

The Tremaine’s were a more sophisticated lot, often decorating their apartment above the salon with whatever tossed out and broken ornaments from Auradon that came in on the barges, Anthony doing his best to make a nice dinner with whatever food was the least spoiled, and little Dizzy making gifts for her family, often taking inspiration from what she saw Evie wearing on TV and daydreaming about when she would get to Auradon and would be able to give her grandmother a broach made of real emerald or give Anthony a new coat not made from leather scraps

If you were of the more religious variety, Claud Frollo often held church services from inside the crepery (a church to some), though attendance tended to be low since most people abandoned their gods once they realized they were on the isle. The Tremaine’s were often in attendance, on occasion Captain Hook would be there if the sober guilt started getting to him, maybe a couple goblins wandered inside. Claudine didn’t mind her father’s sermons, it was nice change from him berating her and calling her a sin and disappointment. She always sat at the register listening to her father speak as she continued to serve customers that weren’t there for religion

The Legume family had their own traditions. Gaston would take his sons on a “hunting trip” on the far side of the isle, well…except Gil, he was too busy making sure no one had to cut off Harry’s hands because of the frostbite he refused to acknowledge. This hunting trip usually consisted of picking off whatever wildlife managed to survive on the isle and then taking it home for Gaston’s wife to cook into…they wouldn’t call it a feast, more so the only decent food the Legume boys are gonna see for a while. Gil’s stepmother, though married to Gaston, wasn’t terrible, she always saved a little bit of meat for Gil for when he came home, it wasn’t much but, better than nothing

Overall, the Isle of the lost is far from merry or very festive but…people adapt

Hope you liked this! It’s kinda short and admittedly not my best work (it’s kinda hard to come up with unique traditions while keeping the Isle’s normal levels of overall shittiness) I’d love to flesh out some of these ideas though so let me know if you have one in particular you’d like to see made into it’s own story! And feel free to keep giving me festive writing prompts!

[cheesewithasideofcheese]

The Small Things

Sindri x gn!reader

I have been psychoanalyzing Sindri cause I don’t want to get his character wrong but it might be a bit OOC. I think the last time I wrote a fic was in 6th grade so my grammar and spelling might be off.

Consists of headcannons and a short blurb, Sindri is implied to have OCD and anxiety, fluff, relatively short

To start with, because of his mysophobia he struggles to express his emotions physically so he usually leans towards gift giving.

You want a weapon? Coming right up. Jewelry? He found some spare medal and molded it into a charm. Food? He’s annoying Brok till he cracks and cooks up a soup.

Honestly no matter if you’re a Midgardian, dwarf, or god and a warrior then he will be riddled with anxiety.

He thinks he’s good at hiding it but it’s pretty obvious because he’ll start mass producing weapons. The second you turn your back and start heading out he’s got three swords, two bows, and 10 daggers cooling from the kiln(I forgot whatever the hell you call those oven things you heat metal up in).

May threaten Kratos just a bit about keeping you safe but will instantly fold once Kratos looks him in the eyes.

But once he see’s you back it’s like the weight on his heart rolls off. Man’s practically skipping as if he wasn’t seeing you at every outpost to jazz up your weapons.

Another thing he loves is spending time with you. If you like reading then you can read out load for him from a book you both designate as the best to read without getting too lost. Kinda hates poetry for that reason but if it doesn’t have any flowery language and not too abstract than he’ll allow it (he says that as if he can say no to you if you present a poem with enough fire in your eyes). It’s the best when you’re both winding down to sleep and he drifts off, completely at peace. He does get a little pissed if he finds out you’ve read ahead of you and will give you the cold shoulder for a couple days if you spoil anything.

He’s above the clouds if you just hangout with him when him and his brother are at work. Loves when you just sit and talk to him when he’s working because it eases some of his impulsive habits of constantly checking every step of the process. Brok made a snarky comment one day about him slacking whenever you’re around watching but shuts up after being pelted with scrap medal.

“SINDRI”

“OH NO“

The sword’s(if you’d call it that at this point) metal had melted and caught fire in the kiln, some spilling out onto the wooden floors of the dwarves house leaving a charred black mark in its wake.

This wasn’t the first time this has happened and Brok assumed it wouldn’t be the last. Sindri had gotten caught up in staring at them and zoned off. The book they were reading was long forgotten as they tried to help Sindri with the mess but he kept trying to usher them away which just left the molten metal more time to seep into the wooden floors.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! This is the third time this month!”

Brok yelled at Sindr, most of it flying past him as he put out the small fire. Sindri breathed out as the fire was smothered and was left with useless globs of metal. It really made him thankful of Draupnir. He didn’t reply to Brok and made the frazzled warrior turn over their hands to inspect for any burns. As they settled back in routine the sound of clanking metal filled the room it was broken by the blue dwarven brother.

“Didn’t take ya for such a airhead”

Brok should have predicted the flying metal directed at him and Sindri should have predicted the little quarrel after the fact. He eventually stormed into the kitchen to cool off but was interrupted by the warrior peering around the corner.

“You okay”

He couldn’t stop the goofy little smile that spread across his cheeks. He could never get enough of their presence could he, it was like his own little paradise when no one was around. With another sign of relief he approached them and with a little touch to their back that seemed to startle them he said.

“Only when you’re around”

——————————————————————————

Had fun writing this so if you want to commission more you can and I’d love criticism too cause it’s been far too long since I’ve written like this. It’s also so much fun to ignore my missing late assignments and do these instead 😍.

Tag list:

@alondrashultz

[rendy-a]

Ohh, just one more. >w< Ruggie, romantic, and cafeteria please!

I'm so pleased with how well this one came together! I hope you like it too.

This is the last item from my 200 follower event. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Side by side with your loved one You'll find enchantment here The night will weave its magic spell When the one you love is near! For this is the night, and the heavens are right On this lovely bella notte

It was night by the time you wandered into the NRC cafeteria and heard the banging of pots in the kitchen.  Bingo, you’d found him.  Ruggie was a difficult person to pin down; always running errands and working whatever jobs he could find.  It wasn’t unusual for you to go days without seeing your…well, you really weren’t sure what he was to you.  You both didn’t feel the need to tie down what sort of relationship you two had to traditional labels.  You just knew you had a certain fondness for the sneaky hyena beastman and that he felt the same towards you.

You rounded a table, separating you from the kitchen when the double doors separating the cafeteria and kitchen swung open.  Your beau swept out of the kitchen with Tupperware in hand, still wearing his apron.  You snort in amusement, “You should have invited me along to be your taste tester.  I’d have even tied that cute little apron in a proper bow for you.”  Ruggie jolts at your voice and the containers sway in his hands, but his agile movement saves any from tumbling.  He sets the load down on the table and turns to face you, “Sweetheart, you don’t need cute little bows when you already look like this.”  He accents his point by waggling his eyebrows at you. 

You laugh and give him a playful smile in response.  Then turn around to sit yourself on the table.  “Not that I expect anything fancy or something but it would be nice to see you a little today.  I mean, it is Valentine’s Day.”  Ruggie gets a brief grimace, as though to lament that you’d remembered.  Then he quickly replaces the expression with a look of feigned pain, “You didn’t think I forgot, did’ja?  I’m hurt!  I planned to bring you something homemade for dinner.  It doesn’t count if its not made from the heart, right?” 

You and he both have a good laugh at that, both of you being generous about the outcome.  You generously forgive him for trying to slip out of the romantic day and he flips through his prepared meals before generously sacrificing one to the cause.  “I made this one just for you, scout’s honor.  Shishishi!”  You accept the container from him and hop off the table, slipping around to the other side so you could sit across from him.  Then you fumble in your bag for some napkins and set a little table for two. 

You gesture and Ruggie sits down and opens the container for you to share.  It’s a pasta with a red sauce and some meat balls.  “This is remarkably put together for something you cooked.  Usually, I just get the bits and pieces you’ve scavenged up,” you remark with a bit of surprise.  “Come on honey, that wounds me.”  Ruggie replies quickly but when you raise an eyebrow at him, he relents, “Ok, fine.  The meatballs are ground from some meat I pinched from Leona’s diner stash.  He doesn’t like the scrap cuts anyway but when you grind it down and season it right, bam! Perfect meatballs.  Shishishi!”  You smile back at your sly hyena.  His resourcefulness is one of the things you admire most about him.

You both quietly dig into the pasta dish.  After a few (delicious!) bites, you feel like you must address your previous comment.  “I don’t really mind the bits and pieces,” you say quietly, “not when I have them with you.”  Ruggie continues to eat quietly, “I know,” is all he says but you notice he smiles a little to himself.  You notice and smile larger yourself.  “I don’t even mind that you didn’t get me a card.” 

Ruggie looks up at you, “Who says I didn’t get you a card?”  Then he hands you a rumpled slip of paper with a poem on it.  You read it and then look up at him, “This is surprisingly good.”  You run your thumb over it when you notice there is something covered up at the bottom with a sort of scribbled heart decoration.  You look at your beau suspiciously.  “Is this a signature?  Ruggie, where exactly did you get this?”  He gets wide eyed and draws back, caught in his own scheme.  Then he crosses his arm across his body, gripping at his collar with a pout, “I may have found a first draft of a poem by Rook,” he began.  “At least give me credit for swiping the very best for you,” he finishes while spreading his hands open to each side and giving you a mischievous smile. 

You smile back, not at all offended.  After all, it was part of his charm, the way he found things overlooked by others and gave them purpose again.  He was also surprisingly generous for someone who had so little.  You knew this was probably meant to be his meal and yet, here he was sharing it with you.  He nudged the last meatball your way, inviting you to savor the last morsel of meat; truly, he took care of those that were important to him.  You knew better than to argue about it and instead accepted his gift.  Then, went back for another forkful of pasta, slurping forcefully at the noodles until you were surprised to feel your lips on his own.  It appears that you had both gotten the same noodle and meet in the middle.

You turn away, flustered at the unexpected kiss.  When you shyly look back, you see Ruggie with a flush of red across his cheeks.  He was trying to pretend that he was unaffected by the kiss but you could see the way he barely contained his grin.  You feel a small laugh escape before turning back to the pasta with a smile.  It was a great meal.  The only thing better than stolen meatballs was stolen kisses, shared beneath the moonlight on a lovely Valentine’s night.

[the-witchs-cafe]

Jean-Louis Carême

The Mantis Witch, with an indulgent nature. Willfully ignorant to the overwhelming woes of this world, the witch continues to focus on his work of catering to those who enter his fine establishment - his labyrinth -. Donned in black and hanging their heads low, it appears that everyone - save for the witch - is dressed up for the occasion; someone else has passed away earlier this morning without saying a word, yet here he stands- still resuming his work without paying much attention to the suffocating environment around him. So long as there are guests to accommodate and the ingredients are running low, he will continue to avert his eyes away from the chaos surrounding him and focus on the usual routine.

Oil burns have speckled his claws, his eyes have turned milky from the harsh smoke, and the forest is littered with the remains of those who assisted him with his cooking- yet he can't find it in himself to stop. To pause is to risk failure and witness all that has crumbled apart before him. No, he must carry on with his task; in the midst of mourning and chaos, only a desperate soul like his would ever find normalcy in an ongoing tragedy like this.

--

Barrier Appearance:

The furthest thing from what is expected from an afterlife; here, you witness no pearly gates nor the iron barriers, nor could you hear the angels' horns or the chuckling of imps. It's the closest thing there physically is to a purgatory; dull skies, soft rains, silent winds- all that constitutes life and vigor are simply made null just outside this run-down hospital's windows. Whatever colors that do exist, they happen to be in this odd yellow hue that wouldn't feel out of place from an old photo.

As a matter of fact...you aren't even sure if this constitutes as a hospital at all. The walls and flooring appear to be made out of scrap metal and misplaced wood; like if multiple people have come together to repair this run-down place with whatever they had in their hands to little success. Some of the halls don't even have a roof; exposing you to the dull forest outdoors. A heart monitor's gentle beeps echo throughout the winding paths leading up to the grand dinner; a memory is being kept alive within this place, even if barely.

The scent of chemicals and fire are overwhelming...you could feel you throat and lungs being set on fire. Traversing through these halls has turned into a struggle as you try to make your way with watering eyes and searing trachea. If whatever that's in the air didn't do you in, then the sudden sense of deep hunger would surely finish the job...

--

Familiars:

Madeleine and Napoleon. Minions of the Mantis Witch. Their duty is to gather herbs. Sprouting from the flowering bodies of all who starved whilst on their ways to the grand dinner, the siblings are tasked with harvesting the flora born from those unlucky enough to perish within these thickets, for they could be grounded into the most addictive of spices. With deep resentment towards the witch for ignoring their deepening gangrenous wounds and his sheer carelessness, the two apprentices wish to break free from this labyrinth and create their own delicacies they could share with wandering visitors. They long for the clear skies and soft dew of dawn, but all they currently have are these candles that refuse to stay lit.

-

Merlot. Minion of the Mantis Witch, whose duty is to be the undertaker. A guardian of the afterlife, she guides the souls of those who have finished their meals and help them pass on peacefully; lest their agonized screams and howls taint the flavor of their flesh. In the midst of stocking up the storage with new batches of meat, she'd attempt to dissuade the witch from what he is doing and help him see what's going on before him, but all he could do is shake his head; must be another memory of his leaking into his daydreams...

[0ccuria]

So Shadowheart mentions that the player physically feels more "substantial" at the reunion, whether it's true or not.

I think that'd be very true for Qi'zyr'ra.

Gith that stay in the Astral Plane don't need to eat much, if at all, which causes their stomachs to atrophy. So once they are out of the Astral Plane, they must eat a lot of high protein, meat based meals.

Qi would feel this effect almost immediately after landing on Toril. She had spent a good chunk of her years sailing the Astral, and while she enjoyed eating even then, she only did so on rare occasions.

Now, having to eat frequently more than her companions, she was always scrounging for any scrap she could find--usually resorting to asking the others for whatever they had in their packs. When they are able to have an actual cooked meal a la Gale, she is ravenous. She would out-eat everyone, finishing her plate first and even taking what's left from the other's.

Gale learned fast that he needed to double up the portions just so there'd be enough. Yet he wasn't exactly the best at procuring such quantities.

None of this ever really had a sudden effect on her physique. It was only just enough to keep her sated and energized.

And then came Halsin.

A man who knew how and where to properly hunt, how to cure and prolong the length of the fresh meats they acquired, make the most delicious dried fruit/nut mixes drizzled with honey, as well as how to stockpile it all (all thanks to hibernating). He was a man who matched her own appetite due to his size.

Qi stuck close around him even before getting in cahoots together. He was essentially her snack machine--providing whatever he had available. It became such a symbiotic relationship that all she had to do was hold out a hand to receive goodies.

But since becoming lovers, Halsin took extra care to have exactly what she needed at all times--if he didn't, he would immediately go and get it. The aroma of her favorite cured jerky would often waft around him, as he was almost always holding onto a stash. Before she could even think of asking for a piece, a portion would already be offered for her to take. He was quick to pick up on the cues before a hangry episode was on the rise.

Their nights of intimacy were rather exhaustive, so it was no question to bring her a snack pack to keep by the bedroll for after they had expended their energy. Though truthfully, it became just as much for him as it was for Qi--he loved popping fruits into her mouth while basking in her afterglow. To kiss and taste the sweet, tart juices on her lips, knowing she was more than just sated... but content.

By the time of the reunion, her gaunt cheeks had slightly rounded out, and a modest tummy would finally peek through her ridged physique after her time in Raithwin caring for the orphans--where there was abundance for everyone. Each night hosted a communal dinner, prepared and cooked by everyone to then be enjoyed without guilt.

"Hmm, you feel a little more... substantial than before. Less camping and scrounging off the land, I take it?" Says Shadowheart.

"Correct," replies Qi'zyr'ra, "I'm finally happy."

[baelpenrose]

Project Praetorian 38: Family Dinner

The kids celebrate the fruits of victory and glory in their first major battle, a big dinner that they bribed and bartered for and a large barbeque on base, including all the meal prep that goes into it. I had a lot of fun figuring out what everyone would do in this, and @canyouhearthelight was a lot of help.

Xavier 

His phone was buzzing and he answered it. “Casey, I don’t know where the charcoal is, Shiloh and Vergil aren’t back from the store yet. How’s the meal prep coming?” 

“I’m glad Mark’s as quick as he is with magnetic pulls because if he wasn’t Molly’s knife handling would already have us regretting that Shiloh isn’t here. How’s the pit coming?” 

“Jonathan grabbed the entrenchment tools and shoved me out of the way. He pretty much took it over - it’s almost done.” 

“The grill?” 

“Fuck’s sake, Casey, the suburban white girl is coming out, I’ll go check.” 

“This is the first party we’ve gotten to put on as a group in ages, let me have the control freak shit.”

“Speaking of control, Echo?”

“Her marinade is going great, whatever you’re grilling is going to be slathered in something awesome, chill.” 

“Cool.” He hung up and started jogging towards the armory - on their last leave, they’d swiped some good quality whiskey from a liquor store as a trade to get one of the mechanics down in maintenance to weld some scrap into a workable grill. Now it was time to pick it up. He had only gone about thirty yards before turning around and tapping Jonathan on the shoulder. “Hey, Jonathan. I’m gonna take over from you for a sec. I can finish up the pit, I’m gonna need you to go grab the grill.” 

As Jonathan casually hopped out of the pit and then handed Xavier the shovel, the two boys clapped each other on the shoulder. “Gonna be good food tonight, finally.”

“Hell yeah, brother.” Once Jonathan ran off and he was left working on the pit, he got another text, and he snatched the phone off his belt, this time noticing it was from Mark, on their group text with Echo.

Mark: alright, confirmation two weeks later, Smith and Franks have indeed found Echo’s little sister. Files are apparently available for your detection, Echo. 

Echo responded less than a minute later.

Echo: I talked to Vergil. If Imperator keeps tabs and gets her to where she’s safe, I’ll play along with Franklin. 

Xavier grinned. Everything was going their way. Supposedly, more people were going to be arriving late today, or maybe early tomorrow, and depending on when everything was finally ready, that meant the newbies were going to get one hell of a jumping in. 

He tore at the ground with the entrenchment tool, widening and deepening the pit just a little more until Vergil texted: We have the charcoal. Shiloh’s driving back - they got a bunch more stuff for us to eat as well. 

Molly

Her hand slipped on the knife while slicing the potatoes. She felt an abrupt pull and heard Mark swear as her fingers were saved for the fifth time by someone else’s super power. 

Casey chuckled. “Okay. So when we buy the big fortress for the whole corps, the kitchen knives all have to be steel rather than ceramic.”

Molly flushed. “Or we could get a mandolin slicer.” 

Casey grunted. “Or we could get a mandolin slicer, yeah. Or both. Actually.” 

“Also, for the record, isn’t this kind of problem usually because of shitty knives rather than unskilled cooks?” Mark asked. “I seem to remember my mom saying something about that.”

Casey nodded. “Yeah, but we’re all using the same bad knives in this kitchen, and you’ve had to lean on your powers once to save your fingers, you haven’t had to save me at all. It’s not that these knives aren’t making it worse, Molly, and we absolutely need to get a proper sharpener in here, but like. You haven’t had a lot of practice in a kitchen, you know?”

Molly shrugged, embarrassed. “Yeah, only child, I guess.”

Casey nodded. “That explains it. We’re gonna get in more practice, you’re fine. Here, hold a little more like this.” She walked over and corrected Molly’s grip. “Should make it a little easier. I’m gonna finish getting the cornbread into the oven, then…actually can you swap me and make the honey butter? Just whip warm butter in with honey? I’ll take over veggie duty.”

“Thank god,” Molly heaved in relief, laying the knife down. “Pretty sure I can’t hurt myself with a whisk and a bowl.”

Echo grunted. “I’ll run slaw once I’m done with the marinade.”

Molly felt lost, and walked over to where the butter was, threw it in the bowl, and lathered it in honey before beginning to whisk. “So, new people?”

“Yeah, apparently the new conscripts are coming in either tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“Four of them, I heard.” Echo said, casually indulging in her habit of disclosing information she wasn’t supposed to have. 

Molly didn’t miss the way Mark’s head snapped over. “When did you hear that?”

“Shortly before we started cooking, actually. I wanted to tell you and Xavier, but we were all running around.” 

“No worries. Glad it was here and not in front of staff.” 

“Heh. I would never make you look unprepared in front of staff.” She shrugged. “Everything else about them must be on-paper, eyes-only, so I don’t have it.” 

Molly shrugged. “Music tonight?”

“Yours or Xavier’s?” Mark asked. “Either way, yes. It’s a party. On our turf.” 

“Bit of both - how much dubstep violin combination have you heard?” 

“We’ve got live music now? Praetorian original? Everything about that is awesome.” Casey’s voice came from behind her, even as Molly heard the oven open and shut. The other girl crossed the kitchen and took up a knife next to Mark.  “That’s genuinely cool, Molly. I’m so excited to hear it!” 

Molly flushed. “Really?”

“Really. It’s cool that you can do that. It’s awesome that you’re building that up. It’s cool that it’s something we can do to welcome new people in. It’s awesome that you and Xavier are doing that together, and it's amazing that in the midst of the hell that is Imperator and the war we’ve been drafted into, you’re able to hold onto that part of yourself. I’m proud of you.” 

Molly looked down as she kept whisking the honey butter. As she thought about it, it did seem that everyone held to something. Casey and Mark still practiced what parts of their faith they could, with Mark maintaining little hints of hobbies he had and Casey keeping her skirts and her love of cooking. Xavier had his hobbies and music, Echo her fashion sense, Shiloh their refusal to get their hearing surgically repaired even now that the mutations made it possible. Even now, Jonathan, Vergil, and Shiloh were being encouraged to find things that they could have for themselves that Imperator couldn’t challenge, couldn’t force, couldn’t use. She was happy to make the music hers. 

Casey jumped as Mark made a choked noise and a fast gesture, leading to Casey’s knife sliding back and forth rapidly. “Oy vey! All that shit to Molly about how good you are in the kitchen!”

“I got distracted! Phone buzzed.”

Molly smirked. “A true master wouldn’t get distracted.”

“I thought you said you were an only child.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

Echo snorted. “You didn’t need much time to start smarting off like a proper little sister, that’s all. Anyway. Casey, who texted and what’d they say?”

“Shiloh and…they’re here.”

“Got it. Uh…Shiloh and Verg are coming up, so I’ll head down and light the charcoal. Once it’s ready then I’ll come back up. Xavier and Jonathan are gonna start grilling once the grill is ready.” 

Molly stood away. “Honey butter look ready?” 

Casey nodded. “Yeah, looks perfect. Uh…we got the potatoes chopped, get them boiling and once they’re boiled can you get them mashed? And get the cornbread out of the oven when the timer goes off.” 

She headed off and Molly started gathering up the potatoes into a pot, filling it with water and setting it on the stove to boil. “Okay, so…”

Shiloh rushed in, already setting another massive pot on the stove to boil for macaroni, and signing. Vergil was signing back, taking up a knife before being casually displaced by Shiloh. They began slashing veggies rapidly for Molly and Vergil to glaze. Echo took her leave to carry down the meat - grabbing Vergil to help her with the process. 

Molly glanced at Mark. “So. What do you think’s gonna happen when the new people get here?”

“I’m taking all that a step at a time,” he confessed. “But I expect we’re gonna get them situated to working with us, like we did with everyone else. Probably easier for them than it was for you, since they’re coming into a big meal and not getting scooped after a massacre.” He winced apologetically. “And easier than it was for Vergil, since they aren’t getting straight up black bagged and we already crossed off Volkov.” 

Even now, having actually stood to battle and killed, it still made her shudder how casually the older Praetorians discussed having killed other humans. How Volkov’s death was always discussed as simply an unpleasant chore rather than anything truly upsetting. 

“I get that.” She said, softly. “I mean - do you have any idea of how or when our next mission will be?”

“No. I know that we have our official ranks, but at a guess that was expedited as a show of good faith by Franklin, not preparation. This war is on the enemy’s timeline, not ours.” 

Molly winced at that reminder. “Okay.” She finished glazing a row of asparagus. “Did we need anything else?”

“Uh….Shuck that corn if you could, then I think I’m gonna wrap it in foil, actually.” 

The timer went off and Mark wrapped his hands in mitts to retrieve it.

***

Vergil

Xavier was scratching small patches of new skin on his arms in ways that indicated Shiloh had had to work on small burns from grilling, and everyone was helping bring out massive heaps of food. Curtis and Leon had been flatly forbidden from being involved in meal prep, but finally sat down at the feast - along with a small group of base staff. A squad of troopers who had been involved in helping smuggle various cooking material onto base, who Curtis had deployed with before the hell of Imperator and who he had vouched for, who were, even now, standing in full battle gear with bayonets fixed as though daring anyone to interfere with the meal. Their pay was in a share of the food.

Vergil, for his part, was in sensory heaven, fully amping his sense of taste with a slowly enhanced control of his powers to savor every bite, heaping his plate high. Every once in a while, Casey would gesture at the fire and make it flare for a bit of light, but for the most part, they were focusing on getting more food out. 

“So, wait, the Collins - they’re gonna be a good place for my sister, right?”

“Yeah. They’re gonna be fine for your sister. Best foster home I ever had.” Echo had asked him now, a few times, and he was happy to assure her. 

Echo smiled, and laughed. “Goddamn. We’re winning today. Given how often shit goes sideways, let’s enjoy it before any higher power notices.” 

Vergil started laughing, and he could hear Curtis and the troopers talking. “Wait, hang on,” one of the soldiers was saying. “The oldest one is seventeen? I knew the Praetorians were young, but jesus.”

“You didn’t know?”

“I knew Imperator was conscripting teenagers. I didn’t know…How old is the little blonde one?”

“Thirteen.”

“Fuck, man. We working for one of those West African warlords these days? Sarge, how long have you known?”

“Since I got forced to train them. They’re good kids.” 

Another man spoke up. “Fuck me, it’s like the Congo thing all over.”

“Nah, it’s worse.” 

“I have kids older than the two youngest.”

“No, Corporal. Your daughter is the same age as the boy who gives the orders to that little outfit, and the girl who manages all their intelligence gathering. Give you an idea?” 

Vergil forced himself to listen into something else as he shoved more cornbread into his mouth. He didn’t want to think about how much easier someone else’s life was. The cornbread that Casey had made was perfect - smooth, sweet, warm, and the honey butter melted over it perfectly. “Casey…this is amazing.”

“Thanks, but actually, Molly made the honey butter.” 

The ribs were spectacular. Sticky, sweet, and spicy. Echo hadn’t been overhyping the sauce she’d made. Nor had they underpaid the bribe. 

Shiloh was talking to Jonathan - and he was proud to say he could finally follow their rapid signing. “Jonathan, damnit, I know it doesn’t hurt, you’re still burned and I want to fix it, hold still.” Jonathan held still as Shiloh put their hands over his arm and froze for a moment, then let go.

Jonathan abruptly hugged Shiloh, picked them up, and put them on a bench, throwing a stack of food in front of them. “Eat. You haven’t all day, any more than I have, and I know healing takes a lot out of you.”

“You’re lucky you’re my brother.”

“That’s why I’m the one who makes you do stuff, yeah. No one else can touch you.” 

Vergil smirked. He’d had that explained to him a few times. Praetorians were “family” - Jonathan and Shiloh were siblings, as much or more than blood could make anyone, and he pitied anything that tried to tell them they weren’t. 

Leon came over. “How’re you doing?”

“Amazing, Leon. This is perfect. Thanks.”

“I honestly didn’t do any of this. This is all Mark and Echo, honestly.” Unspoken for a moment was the dreadful truth everyone knew, that Mark had told everyone, even Vergil. At this point, Leon was well aware of the capricious nature of Imperator and her place in it. “There are several of you that myself and Curtis are going to ask about legal guardianship of, if you want it. Not that it really matters, because you’ll be legal adults before the war ends. But it means that legally, if we can make it happen, we’ll have more latitude to negotiate for you in cover story stuff like school. Plus we can open up bank accounts for you outside Imperator and put money in for college that Imperator can’t touch.” 

“Which ones?”

“You. Molly. Jonathan. Shiloh. Echo.”

“Aren’t Shiloh’s parents still alive?”

Leon gave a wan smile. “Curtis explained to the squad who are about to be deployed as security to Aventine, how Shiloh came to be a Praetorian. I suspect that’s temporary. Accidents happen. Especially in Imperator.” 

“For us?” Vergil was confused.

“After that last battle? Even if someone wasn’t morally disgusted by what happened there, Shiloh saved a lot of people whose life is being able to act effectively and let them remain able. Just being on Shiloh’s good side means something to people now.”

Vergil rolled that over. “Yeah, uh…go for it. So, hey. Question. Do you know anything about the new conscripts? Echo says we’ve got four coming?”

“You know more than I do, please review ‘Stricken and Gideon are doing what they can to lock me out.’”

Vergil winced as Leon stood up. “Enjoy the night. I’m going to go grab a drink with Curtis. Have fun with the others. You guys earned this.” 

Vergil jogged over as Xavier stood up and grabbed Molly, who was already unlimbering her violin.

“PRAETORIANS!” Xavier thundered, his voice shaking the tables with unnatural volume. “We fought the aliens in their own ship, and we kicked their asses! We’re now enjoying the fruits of our victory, and to celebrate, me and Molly put something together, a quick reminder of what we can do with our powers when the war ends.”

Vergil froze. Was Molly already putting on a concert? Already? 

A thrum that started in his bones and slowly picked up to something fast, something that got his blood pumping, only to have Jonathan twirl him out of his seat and get all the Praetorians stomping around. Then Molly twirled her bow and added in, the bow whipping back and forth across the strings and filling the air with more music, music that made the air itself vibrate as Molly amplified it, intertwining the sounds with what Xavier was creating, with their own movements, with everything.

The troopers started to chant, and started joining in. 

Vergil grabbed a case of soda and swigged, twirled by Shiloh. Then by Echo. At one point, Molly, seeming to want to show off, set her violin down and spun herself into a dance with both Casey and Echo and let her power alone keep the echoes of her music flowing through the night until she cut back out, swept up her violin and cut right back into the music without skipping a beat, timing in with her own echoes. Xavier jumped in the dance with Shiloh, first. 

Mark and Casey danced by the fire, Casey flaring the fire behind them, and Mark casually repelling them away from the iron of the grill to give them more distance than would otherwise have been possible on little jumps. 

Vergil stopped, grabbed a little more food, and ran back to the dancing, and one of the troopers pointed. 

Curtis was picking up his sidearm. 

Vergil glanced over and Curtis shook his head. “Couple staff. Not your problem. We’ll tell them you’re not available. Promise.” 

Gideon and Stricken were approaching. Vergil went back to the dance, swinging in time with Casey. Then with Mark.

He saw Mark and Xavier dancing for a moment, then found himself with Jonathan, barely keeping up with the larger boy, who abruptly, seemingly just to show off, took a step back and vaulted the firepit in a backflip. 

Then Vergil began picking up a thrum of rotor blades and turned around.  A helicopter was coming in. 

He pointed out. He could hear Mark swearing. Then Xavier elevated everyone’s voices. “Alright, everyone. Look alive. We got some new siblings to welcome.” 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Perfect Lemon Cookies

This is my Christmas present for my most wonderful gf @nb-fearne who I just adore, happy Christmas baby!

If you enjoyed this, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

----

Ice and Mav would say they're pretty good at keeping their little granddaughter, Poppy Carole Bradshaw, occupied. So when they're asked to watch her, just like any other day, they say yes.

But this isn't just any other day. And as he and his granddaughter make lemon cookies, the same way he made cookies with his babushka, he thinks about how they got here.

----

Tom knew, in a logical sense, that there were no biological similarities between Poppy Bradshaw and himself. She was his granddaughter, she had been since the day she arrived, but there wasn’t a scrap of shared genetic material to back that up. There wasn’t any between her and Maverick either, they were a family made of coincidental deployment orders, lives saved back and forth, luck finding you so late in life you didn’t feel you deserved it, a family held together by decision more than blood and DNA.

He knew that but, God, sometimes he looked at Poppy and decided genetics could go to hell. Sometimes Tom was standing in his own kitchen, in the long moment of silence as the flour fell around them like snow without the cold, after Poppy had dumped the entire bag of it in the bowl and whacked the mixer to full speed with a yell of delight. 

And he just thought there was no way there wasn’t any of Pete Mitchell in this kid. 

“Oh…” Poppy spoke first, sounding remarkably unconcerned, “Did it wrong, deda…”

Tom coughed into his fist, before taking off his glasses and calmly rubbing the film of flour off the lenses, croaking, “Well…I’m not sure you followed my instructions exactly? But there’s a lot to be said for enthusiasm, honey..”

His granddaughter beamed brightly, shaking the curls that were identical to her daddy’s so a cloud of white billowed around her, “Snowing!”

Tom had to smile, even as his fingers itched at the mess. He couldn’t ever keep from smiling, not on days like this, when the sun was turning from white to gold, from summer to fall, when every song on the old radio seemed to be one of their favorites, when any problems the Navy was having could wait until tomorrow and all Tom had to think about was spending time with his granddaughter. Days like this made him feel like someone entirely new, like the cocky, terrified, high strung kid who’d first worn his wings was a stranger but thank God he wasn’t. Life had just started being kind to him. Days like this were about as close to perfect as Tom wanted to know. 

Especially today.

He let Poppy make handprints in the flour on the counter while he discreetly tipped most of what was in the bowl into the trash and started again. Baking with his granddaughter- or his husband for that matter- usually included a few false starts. 

“Extra lemon,” Poppy reminded him just like she’d done the first time, sweeping her hands through the drifts.

Tom chuckled, “I know how your papa likes them, sweetie.”

Poppy nodded, an expression of unusual seriousness crossing her young face, “Need to be perfect. Perfect for papa.”

“I know,” Tom promised, feeling a warm rush of fondness, “Of course they’re going to be perfect, sweetie. You made them for him.”

Poppy lit up at that, now happily passing Tom whatever he asked for, stirring and rolling with his larger, stiffer hands gently guiding her little ones, tongue poking out of her mouth in her concentration. They sang along to the songs on the radio, they bickered happily over how big a lemon cookie could reasonably be and whether they’d cook twice as fast if you turned the oven up as high as it would go, they practiced her sign language while she sat on the counter and swung her little legs. 

It reminded Tom of some precious memories he kept tucked safely behind his heart, memories of weekends spent at his babushka’s. Away from the shouting and shattering at home, in the peace and quiet of her tiny apartment with its even tinier kitchen. From when he’d been even smaller than Poppy, listening to her speaking soft, creaking Russian, telling him stories and singing him songs he would only ever know in her voice. Making exactly the same cookies that were baking as Tom finally swept up the flour, filling both the kitchen he stood in and the one in his memory with the same sweet smell that would always make him feel safe and loved. 

He was stirring icing, pretending not to notice Poppy’s finger hovering and ready to steal some, when Maverick walked in, bleary eyed and yawning. 

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Tom turned and grinned, kissing his cheek when he padded over. 

“Shut up…been a while since I pulled a night shift…” Mav mumbled, wrapping one arm around his husband’s waist and ruffling Poppy’s curls with the other. 

Tom supposed he couldn’t make too much fun of him. After all, he was the one who got to stay under the covers, soothing an anxious Poppy until she fell asleep while Maverick was the one who did all the frantic 2am driving to the hospital. Tom still maintained he was a better, faster driver but his reputation couldn’t stand up to as many speeding tickets.

Speaking of which. Maverick caught his eye and mouthed, anything yet?

Ice surreptitiously checked his phone where it lay on the counter. The screen illuminated with the lock screen, still a photo of Maverick crashed out on the couch with a similarly snoring Poppy asleep on his lap, both of them wearing the hideous Hanukkah sweaters they’d all insisted on wearing through the holiday. So that made Tom smile but there were no new messages or missed calls. 

He glanced back at Maverick and shook his head lightly. 

Mav shrugged, pressing a kiss to the top of Poppy’s head as his hand flashed out and snagged a fingerful of icing. 

“Hey! Pops, that's for my papa!” she gave him a very stern look for someone who’d been seconds from doing the exact same thing.

“See, this is why you’re my helper, sweetie, and not your Pops,” Tom hummed, moving to check on the cookies, sliding them out of the oven when he saw they were perfect. 

“Uh huh,” Poppy nodded wisely, “Lick the bowl after.”

“A very important rule,” Tom agreed, shaking them onto the rack, “Though not as important as keeping your hands off these until they’re cool. I’m talking to you, Maverick.”

“I’m offended but I understand,” he shrugged, passing a hand over the mess of his bed head as he went to pour himself some coffee from the pot Tom had ready for him, “Learn from my mistakes, kiddo. Plenty of burned fingers.”

Poppy giggled, obediently tucking hers in the pocket of her dungarees, “Silly pops…”

Tom grinned, taking the mug his husband offered him, “Though I think I might trust him to help ice the cookies if you were keeping him in check, sweetie?”

Mav grinned and turned the puppy dog eyes that had been making Tom’s life difficult for thirty years on Poppy. Less of a pushover than her deda, or at least less of a sucker for a pretty face, she hummed thoughtfully and narrowed her eyes at him. Only after a long moment did she shrug. 

“M’kay.”

Maverick snapped her a more serious salute than he’d given any naval officer, “Many thanks, ma’am. I won’t let you down.”

“It’s fine,” Poppy hummed, “Just be perfect. They’re for my papa.”

Mav softened, smiling fondly, “Right. Gotcha.”

Perfect wasn’t exactly the word by the time they were through but Poppy at least seemed happy with them. Tom was laughing at his husband’s brave attempts at icing their squad patches onto cookies when he noticed his phone screen light up with a notification. Trying not to pounce too obviously, Tom flicked it open and felt his heart settle under a rush of emotion, relief and delight and excitement all at once, so strong it was a fight to keep it all to a soft exhale. 

Everything’s perfect, we’re getting released this afternoon. See you there?

Tom imagined these hours were going to feel like some of the longest of his life. 

He turned to Poppy, smiling softly, “Well, as much as we’ve loved having you stay, honey…I think it’s time for you to go home?”

Another thing that made Tom forget there were no biological similarities between Poppy and her grandpas, they were all absolute nightmares when they were nervous.

Right now she was actually pacing, going back and forth across the Bradshaw’s living room, looking for all the world like Admiral Kazansky in his office after a stressful day. Maverick had tried to coax her into watching a movie, into playing one of her favourite board games, even offering to go out into the backyard and go on the trampoline with her despite what it had done to his hips last time. None of it worked, she still fidgeted anxiously, just like she had ever since they’d arrived, as Tom and Mav had gone around making sure the empty house was clean and tidy as it could be and that there was dinner waiting on the stove. Poppy had just kept on pacing, clutching the box of cookies to her chest like her life depended on keeping track of them.

Tom had just finished vacuuming, collapsing on the sofa to give his knees a rest, “Honey, why don’t you come sit with me?”

Poppy mumbled indistinctly before shaking her head, “Don’t think so, deda…”

Tom’s smile gentled and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, “You know, I do that so much at work that my receptionist tells me there’s going to be a trench in my carpet.” 

“Okay deda…” Poppy stood on tiptoe to try and peer past the blinds but it was just a car driving down the street. 

“Yeah. And I only really do it when something’s bothering me. So I’ve been doing it a lot less since your pops retired…but still. So is there something bothering you, honey?”

At that, she froze, her big brown eyes sliding over to him guiltily, “Uh…maybe.”

Tom opened his arms, “Something you want to come over here and tell your dedushka about?”

He wasn’t exactly surprised when she ran over and burrowed into his arms but it did give him a warm rush of joy. Especially when she managed to not crack him over the head with the tupperware box of cookies. 

“I want my daddies…”

“And they’re coming, sweetie, they said they’re on their way,” Tom rocked her gently, the way he’d been doing since she was tiny, the way he’d done for her daddy before her. 

“Mm…but also kind of…scared about it.” She sounded like she was confessing a crime to Tom’s jumper. 

“Hey,” he gently moved her so he could rub slow, soothing circles on her back, “Listen, it’s perfectly fine to be a little scared right now. It’s a huge change and that's always going to be at least a little terrifying.”

“Oh,” Poppy looked up at him, “Really? It’s okay?”

“Of course,” Tom nodded, “Because you know what isn’t going to change? How much your daddies love you. And how much me and your pops love you, for that matter.”

That brought the smile he loved so much back onto her face, “Promise?”

“I promise,” Tom kissed her forehead, his smile turning into a grin as the sound of a very familiar engine came up to the house, “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Poppy gasped, grabbing her box and making for the door as quick as her legs could carry her. Maverick came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishcloth and nudging Tom fondly. 

“Ready for round two?” he winked. 

Tom laughed and put his arm around his husband, nodding at Poppy’s retreating back, “After her? Bring it on.”

Poppy didn’t even wait for them to open the door, throwing it open herself and running out onto the drive towards the battered old Bronco and the man who was just getting out of the driver’s door. 

“Daddy!”

Bradley’s face relaxed from general bewildered exhaustion into relief as he saw his daughter running towards him, dropping to his knees so he could catch her in an enormous hug, “There’s my girl…”

“You were gone so long! Gone forever ,” Poppy half told him off, reaching up to pat his cheeks. 

Bradley chuckled, pressing a kiss to her little palms, “Well, if you’ve got a problem with that, kiddo, I’ve got someone you can take it up with…someone was determined to take his time…”

Leaning in the front doorway, Tom felt his breath catch in his throat. Because Jake Seresin was gently easing himself out of the other door, a blanket wrapped bundle in his arms and the tiredest, broadest smile on his face. 

“Ready to meet Dagger Seven?” he grinned. 

“Papa…” Poppy shuffled closer, a little hesitant now, almost shy, “You’re okay.”

“Course I am, pumpkin,” Jake looked torn for a moment, clearly pulled between the need to hold his eldest and his newest, having to settle for kneeling so she could edge closer.

“Is that them?”

“It is,” Jake smiles, gently shifting the blankets so she could see, “It’s him. Your baby brother.”

Poppy peered at the sleeping newborn in his arms, her face gentling in awe, “Oh…he’s so small.”

“They come like that, it’s okay,” Bradley laughs, moving to lay a hand on Poppy’s shoulder, “So. What do you think, kiddo?”

There was a long moment where Poppy seemed to be thinking, her mouth trembling slightly like it didn’t know which way to turn. But as she lightly touched the soft, dark curls on his head, it became a smile. 

“Okay. He can stay.”

If Tom had some tears running down his face as he leaned in the doorway, no one noticed but Maverick.

He was even cuter up close. Tom held the little boy tight to his chest, rocking him slowly, the way that had been working since the first time he held his sister Sarah. Not that he needed to, his new grandson seemed perfectly content to stay snoozing, turned into the warmth of his arms. Perfect little round cheeks, a glimpse of a tiny rosebud tongue when he yawned, a gentle dusting of dark hair. Tom could look at him for hours and find something new to love every moment. 

Maverick hung on his shoulder, grinning down at him, “God, he’s so cute…”

Jake chuckled from the other sofa, where he sat cradling Poppy and munching a cookie, “Well, he’s been quiet so far, that’s all I care about. Might have got it right this time around.”

Though he kissed the top of Poppy’s head as soon as he said it, making her giggle. 

“Are you finally going to tell us what you’re calling him, then?” Maverick asked, making Tom perk up a little. It had been driving them both nuts for the last eight months, their insistence on keeping the name they’d chosen secret until the baby arrived. 

Bradley smiled, quirking his eyebrows at his husband who shrugged and took his hand, “You tell them. Kept them waiting long enough.”

Bradley laughed at that, looking uncharacteristically coy for a moment. His eyes found Tom’s and stayed there, those eyes that would always remind Tom of the tow headed little boy who hung off his leg, no matter how old Bradley got. Right now, he could see all the years in them, all the pain and hurt and confusion and joy and need, all the love Bradley had for him, for the guy who’d shown up for him and stayed there. It felt like too much, like more than Tom deserved but he had it and all he could do was be so endlessly grateful for the day he met little Bradley Bradshaw, the kid who wasn’t his by blood but was his kid nonetheless. 

His kid smiled, “Uncle Tom, you are holding Thomas Nicholas Bradshaw.”

Tom liked to think that he was rarely lost for words. A lot of the time that was because he didn’t bother with them, finding a cold, hard stare or an incredulous look to be more effective ways of getting the job done. But now, for maybe the first time he found himself wanting words, needing words to describe this feeling in his chest, words big enough to thank them for this but there were none. 

All he could do was look down at the brand new little boy in his arms, his grandson, his namesake and croak, “Oh…”

It wasn’t much but it seemed to be enough. He was definitely crying and more people than Maverick were noticing but it was okay, Mav was crying too as he hugged him and Bradley was crying as he came over and kissed his Uncle Tom on the forehead. Jake and Poppy were soon folded into the hug too, Jake misty eyed and Poppy only looking a little confused but very pleased. 

They weren’t a family held together by DNA. They were held together by coincidence, by happenstance that had thrown him and Pete Mitchell into the same Top Gun class, Bradley and Jake into that bar near the naval academy, by sheer luck that had taken people from them and given them others. They were held together, bound so tightly, because they chose to love each other. And they would choose each other every time, on good days and the bad ones.

But today was damn near perfect.