#It's fine actually I didn't cry while making this at all I promise I'm Sane and Normal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atsumwah · 2 years

Text

consequences

featuring : sano manjiro

notes : i have no idea how this started but this was the fastest thing i wrote out of everything so far....i just wanted them to be scared of reader hihi,,,, obviously timeskip toman members here and also reader uses they/them pronouns! (and mikey calls you baby like a lot)

"oh no."

"good thing it's already busted down anyway.""who gave them a freaking knife?"

"mikey, what did you do?"

mikey was screwed. he was really utterly screwed. and it seems like the whole gang knew it too.

"i didn't do anything." mikey whispers back. "i think."

"you think?" baji pipes in, smacking him on the head. "well you better figure it out because it doesn't look like they're going to stop."

mikey gulps as he watches you, the love of his life, the only reason he gets up for the day�� beat up a worn out door. and you're terrifyingly good at it too. he's pretty sure they have to clean it up later —lord knows no one was brave enough to approach you right now, not when you're this angry. angry at him for that matter.

look, it wasn't like it was intentional. these last few weeks has been busy and sure he hasn't seen you in a while but he thought you understood that. well—you did and you also did bring up the fact you rarely see him anymore and maybe he kind of sprung it on you that you were annoying him when all you wanted was to work on your relationship—okay fine he gets it. this was entirely his fault.

and maybe it was kind of his fault for teaching you how to fight too (okay that's a lie, he thinks it's attractive as hell but he never thought he'd actually be at the receiving end of it.)

"mikey," draken drawled out, holding his shoulder in a very tight grip, "fix this. we have a meeting in a few and seeing your partner murdering a door isn't something we want others to see."

"yeah yeah, got it." he says, taking a deep breath before making his way into the room. he can do this. he's the president of toman for crying out loud. he can definitely talk to you rationally and come out unharmed.

yeah, he's getting his hopes up way too much.

"10 bucks says he'll chicken out." kazutora said.

"not helping me here." mikey says through gritted teeth but still made it towards the room.

"hey baby…" he starts off, testing the waters. he sees you stopped midair from stabbing the wooden door—or whatever is left of it. "can we talk?"

"i don't know, manjiro. can we?" he winced at the use of his first name.

"yeah, i deserved that." he paused when you went back to stabbing, then tried to lighten up the mood. "heh, are you imagining kisaki's face again there, babe?"

"no, i'm imagining yours."

ouch. okay that backfired.

"look i'm—" he settles down behind you, sitting on his knees, "i'm sorry, baby."

"sorry for what?" you mumbled, stopping and looking behind you.

"i'm sorry for not listening to you before. i know i was tired but i had no right to say that to you." he sees you drop the knife, thank god.

you've turn around now, the murderous glare you had before slowly morphing into a disappointed one. "i was just worried about you. but you made it seem like i was suffocating you or something and if i am then, "you let out a sigh "then just tell me and i won't bother you again, manjiro."

"you're not," mikey immediately interjected, taking your now free hands in his. "shit, im sorry for not handling it any better. i really do appreciate everything you do and i promise to be a better partner to you. please don't stop bothering me. you know you're the only thing keeping me sane here, baby."

you let his thumbs draw circles on the back of your hand. "you mean that?"

"god yes." he's doesn't hesitate to pull you in a hug. "i might actually go crazy if you're not here with me."

"then do better on making that known." you muttered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as you relaxed in his hold.

"trust me baby, i will." he kisses your temple before looking back at your face. "am i forgiven?"

you nod, which was all he needed to know before he kissed you and was happy to feel you were kissing him back.

"so…did you really imagine it was my face while murdering the door? you were kidding, right? right? say something please."

reblogs are appreciated bbys <333

#mikey x reader #mikey fluff #tokyo rev fluff #tokyorev x reader #mikey x you #toman mikey #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro fluff #sano manjiro #mikey imagines #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyorev headcanons #yes this is a kisaki tetta slander page and no im not sorry for that #—drabbles.

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willow-salix · 4 years

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Random bit of fun that popped into my head. Grandma Tracy + Selene + cooking sherry =

Selene checked the recipe again and nodded to Grandma. It couldn't be that hard could it, to be all domesticated and shit? She had many manly men that she had to cook for, not that she went in for all the "a woman's place is in the kitchen" stereotypes, but she did think it was important that they came home to something better than their Grandmother's cooking attempts after a tough rescue, and this one looked like it would be a nightmare mission.

She could cook most things, basic and homely she called it, having learnt baking from her Nan, although she did like to challenge herself now and then.

She had decided in her infinite wisdom that if she was capable of making simple dishes like lasagna, chilli's, soups, burgers, pizza's pancakes, breakfasts and the like, coupled with the fact that she was actually good at baking, she could manage to help Grandma in her mission. It shouldn't be that hard to make their boys some lovely fresh donuts, something they all loved. Yep, that was a plan!

Grandma Tracy had wandered back and forth while Selene was assembling the ingredients, flour, salt, yeast, eggs, milk and melted butter and insisted on helping, trying to add her own selections to the mix which Selene gently vetoed, hiding them in the microwave. It would be fine, with her overseeing the proceedings Grandma couldn't get into too much trouble, could she?

Selene directed Grandma as they slowly added the wet ingredients into a big mixing bowl, one at a time until they made a relatively smooth mixture, then Grandma added that little by little to the flour, Selene mixing with her hands until they had a rough dough.

She dribbled some oil onto the worktop, dumped out the bowl and began to knead the slop, gradually feeling it grow thicker and less gloopy, more springy. Damn this was hard work!

"Let me have a try, you youngsters don't know the meaning of hard work."

Selene stepped aside to let Grandma T take her turn, but within a minute the older lady was huffing as bad as Selene was.

They tag teamed back and forth for a few minutes but her fingers were cramping and she was sure that she had inhaled so much flour she'd be sneezing bread rolls. She went to wipe her forehead but her hands were so greasy with the oil she gave in. She didn't want to resort to cheating, but needs must.

She whispered a little chant under her breath when Grandma made her excuses to go to the bathroom and watched as the dough kneaded itself, plumping up and down and flipping itself over as she washed her hands and settled down with a can of cherry coke. The dough flopped itself back into its bowl after a few more minutes and she covered it over and placed it on the windowsill to rise for an hour.

And she promptly forgot about it, wandering off with Grandma to catch up on "The bold and the beautiful" a TV show that Grandma watched religiously and that had become Selene's guilty pleasure whenever she was on the island.

Upon returning to the kitchen after learning that Chico was Marion's secret son and that Charlie's amnesia was fake, they found the bowl overflowing and the dough creeping its way towards the floor.

"Stupid magic kneading!" Selene dived at the dough, nudging Armstrong out for the way just as he tried to bat at it with his paw. "No! Bad cat. Leave it!"

She cradled it in her arms like it was a baby, a big, messy, yeasty baby that was determined to get the fuck out of dodge. She balanced on one leg as she tried to hold it up with her knee, kneeing it like she was playing keepy uppy with a football.

"Grandma, get a bowl! A big one!" She gave it a big push upwards as Grandma shoved a huge bowl under it, catching the evil, still growing blob.

"What's wrong with it?" Grandma asked as she poked at it with her finger, diving back when it looked like it would consume her whole hand.

"Nothings wrong with it, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Against her better judgement, and Selene wasn't known to be entirely sane at the best of times, she grabbed the biggest saucepan they had and filled it with oil, setting it on the stove to boil. Should only take a few minutes....

She watched as the oil began to bubble and smoke, knowing it was about as hot as it would get. Witches didn't like boiling oil, call her silly but that had always been something to avoid in the olden days, which was probably why she had taken the few minutes to kit herself out in a huge apron, Scott's spare bike helmet and a pair of Virgil's thick work gloves. Couldn't be too careful.

She dug her hands into the dough, hitting it with her elbow when it looked like it might try to be the one to eat her before they cooked it. "No! Down! Bad dough!"

She was sure it would be fine once it was cooked, witches made everything a bit more lively, the boys could attest to that.

"Watch out Grandma, don't get too close."

She scooped out a handful and rolled it into a ball then holding it at arm's length, dropped it in the oil like it was a hand grenade. Boom, the oil jumped up to meet her and she stepped back with a squeak of shock. Not good. Nope nope so much nope. Not doing that again.

"Oh don't worry, it always does that when I cook too," Grandma shrugged as she crossed to the fridge to get herself a drink. "Keep going, it'll be fine."

After rolling another ball, which she caught before it rolled off the counter and across the floor yelling 'cry freedom', she sourced a pair of BBQ tongs to hold it with and dropped it carefully in the oil.

"That seemed to work," Grandma encouraged. "Keep doing that."

Ball after ball followed and her roll, grab and drop operation was going so well she completely forgot that the oil was actually cooking the damn things.

"Uh…little too brown maybe…" she fished them out and dumped them into a bowl lined with kitchen towel. She poked them, were they OK?

"They'll be fine with some powdered sugar on them," Grandma proclaimed wisely, although Selene wasn't too sure. "Do the rest, that's nowhere near enough to feed my boys."

Grandma supervised as Selene slowly worked her way through the dough mass, which seemed to have lost its determination now she had effectively scooped half of it away, though it was still making a strange wheezing noise as it attempted to grow some more. She'd soon put a stop to that! She quickly rolled and tossed more balls into the oil, having perfected her drop and duck technique. Paranoid that she'd burn the next lot she got them out earlier...Perhaps a little too early, as they stuck to her tongs as she slapped them into the bowl.

"Damn it."

"Jelly will fix them, " Grandma nodded sagely, "Jelly fixes everything."

Selene threw the last of the balls, now looking slightly less ball like and more like lumps of dough that she was too fucked off with to fix, and began to search the cupboards for something to insert the jam inside the balls.

She located a turkey baster that Parker had insisted they needed to cook a decent Christmas dinner, and that Alan had secretly been using to squirt the Gordon with. Selene had filled it with whisky that one time and used it to fire at Scott from opposite ends of the couch in an attempt to reach each others mouths. She grinned at the memory.

As if reading her mind- maybe she was a witch too- Grandma vanished and reappeared with half a bottle of cooking sherry.

"Would you like a little taste? I find it helps me relax sometimes when I'm cooking, you're too tense."

Well, that might explain a few of Grandma's more adventurous dishes.

Selene looked at the bottle, she could actually do with a little of that right now. She held out her coke can and Grandma poured a healthy splash into the remains of her coke.

"Don't tell John," Selene warned as she gulped down some of the drink for strength as she faced the fried dough balls she was supposed to fix.

She grabbed a pot of smooth jam out of the cupboard and sucked some up into the baster -not that easy to do it turned out- and holding one of the cooked balls she stabbed it with the end of the rubber syringe. It went right through.

"Shit!"

She tried again, splitting another one.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Selene!"

"Sorry, Grandma."

"Let me try," Sally managed to get the tip in one and squirted a generous amount into the donut. But didn't count on the force of her squeezing making the donut shoot off the end and fly across the room to smack Armie in the eye.

"Fuck!"

"Grandma!" Selene was shocked, but had the terrible urge to giggle.

Sorry," Grandma apologised, both to Selene and the cat, trying again.

***

The bowl was a jammy, powdered sugar covered, slightly oily mess and Selene was on her third can of sherry and coke and honestly, she no longer really gave a shit.

Who's stupid idea had this been? It was the thought that counted right?

Grandma had given up over an hour ago and gone to bed, knowing the boys would be heading home soon and Selene desperately needed a shower. She had jam in her hair, sugar sticking to her hands and she'd lost the will to live.

She plonked the bowl in the middle of the kitchen counter.

"Sexy spaceman of mine," she texted, "sorry they look like shit…yeah, can't really explain what happened there…but I'll be naked in bed if that helps." She snapped a picture to go with it and called it good, promising to clean up in the morning.

And she wound her way on slightly unsteady feet, up the stairs and into the bathroom to shower off the remains of her one and only attempt to cook something you could buy easier, promising herself a trip to Krispy Kreme in the very near future, and flopped on the bed wrapped in nothing but a towel.

***

"John?" Gordon stared at the text that had popped up on all their comms less than 30 seconds ago.

"I don't even know."

Their brother's long suffering, defeated tone just made the whole thing even funnier.

"Think you had better get down here, bro," Virgil chuckled. "We'll be home in five."

"Yeah, that's probably wise," Scott added.

Even EOS seemed to find the whole situation amusing, which in itself was a little bit worrying, as John rode the elevator down to the island.

Alan and Gordon were staring at the bowl as if it might explode any minute. John spotted the empty sherry bottle in the sink and sighed.

"Grandma got the sherry out."

"That's not good," Scott agreed as he too entered the war zone, formerly known as the kitchen, his eyes taking in the precariously piled bowls, the flour that coated every surface, the oil patch that Alan almost slipped in and the grease splattered stove top, the pan of oil sitting abandoned. His bike helmet was on one of the stools and one of Virgil's gloves peeked out from the bottom bowl of the stack, though it was so covered in dough you could barely tell what it was.

Virgil brought up the rear, his nose wrinkling at the slightly smokey, oily smell that hung in the air.

"Dare you to eat one," Gordon nudged Alan.

"Hell no! John should, it's his girlfriend that made them."

"Fiancée," John automatically corrected, poking gingerly at the contents of the bowl. "And no, I don't think so."

"Scott, you're the brave one, you like to take a risk now and then, you do it."

"Like the rescue wasn't risky enough? No way. Virg, you try, it's like modern art, appreciate it."

"Nope, I like my taste buds where they are, Gordo, you do it, it was your idea."

Gordon paled as he looked into the bowl. "All of us?" he asked hopefully.

The boys exchanged glances and then one by one they all reached into the bowl, their competitive streak unable to resist, selecting the least offensive looking offerings.

"On three?" Scott confirmed. "One…two…three!"

As one they all tossed their donuts into their mouths, chewing madly, their faces contorting into identical grimaces of horror and disgust.

Alan raced to the trash can, opening his mouth to let the offending evil drop out of his mouth.

"Urghh, it was raw inside," he shuddered.

Gordon followed suit, spitting his out. "Mines burnt."

Virgil managed to swallow his. "Mine was all sugar which pretty much hid everything."

Scott had a dribble of jelly running down his chin to drip onto his uniform, his mouth hanging open as if he didn't dare close it again. Virgil handed him a paper towel and he grateful spat out the offensive food.

"My God, that was foul."

They all looked at John, who was still chewing his dough ball, now matter how much he worked it, it never got any smaller. In the end he too gave up and spat it into the trash. "It was like trying to eat a rubber ball."

Virgil tossed the remains into the trash to spare Kayo and Brains the same horror. "At least they tried."

Too tired to actually be bothered with real food, Scott handed round some bowls and Virgil grabbed a box of cereal and some milk.

They all ate quickly, eating in companionable silence, standing up, leaning against various cupboards and furniture, knowing if they sat down they would likely never get up again.

"Damn!" John moved suddenly, breaking the silence of the room, dumping his half eaten cereal in the sink.

"What's wrong?" Scott frowned, instantly worried.

"I just remembered the rest of her message," he was already running towards the stairs, "I've got a naked woman waiting for me."

Alan shuddered, gagging on his mouthful of cereal. "I did not need to know that."

#thunderbirds are go #No idea how this happened #Lets blame Grandma #john tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #gordon tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #fanfic #fan fiction #fandom #fan fic update #funny post #funny writing #funny

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