#but they're usually gone on the weekends so at least I'm alone then | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magniloquent-raven · 1 year

Text

everybody's saving grace

(cw the karen and billy thing. but this is mostly about joyce finding out and getting protective of billy, so)

(read on ao3)

Jane didn't speak for seven days after they lost Hop.

Joyce made space for her in their home, accommodated as best she could. Will offered her his room and promised he didn't mind sharing with Jon, they used to bunk together on the rare weekends when Lonnie remembered he had kids anyways. More often than not though, Jane would sneak into Joyce's room in the middle of the night, awkwardly hovering in the doorway until Joyce patted the empty space next to her and Jane would crawl into the covers silently, cheeks wet with tears.

That first night Joyce tried to talk to her about it, with soft words and a story or two about the trouble she and Hop used to get up to as teens, hoping to coax a smile out of her, or at the very least a story of her own in response. Something. Anything. She tried to tell herself it was only because she was trying to help, but there was a selfish part of her deep down that just wanted someone to share her grief. Jane was the only other person in the world who felt his loss as much as she did, and she needed help shouldering the burden.

But Jane would only listen. Curled on her side and squeezing Joyce's hand, blinking up at her with red-rimmed eyes.

Joyce would wait until Jane fell asleep to shed her own tears. She's up at all hours nowadays, watching every shadow, listening in the dark, a cigarette between her shaking fingers. Her boys have noticed, she knows it. Jon's picking up more slack than usual, cooking meals and cleaning house and making sure Will is always accounted for. And Will. Will has barely said more than Jane has. He's always been a quiet boy, but…well.

Even his friends spending all their time around the house hasn't brightened his mood. Mike has been glued to Jane's side, getting more and more drawn and frustrated the longer she goes without speaking. Dustin and Lucas have been the loudest of the group, trying desperately to fill the silence, and Joyce can't say she isn't grateful for it. The house feels more full when they're here. It's easier to keep busy and not let her mind wander.

On the seventh day after the mall fire, Max Mayfield asks her if she can spend the night. She's been paler than usual. Withdrawn, but only when no one is looking.

Joyce puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Of course."

She gives the girls her room, and says she'll sleep on the couch. No one believes her, but they don't bring it up. She sits at the kitchen table alone, fiddling with the ashtray Jon made her when he was eight. There's a chip in it from when Will, young and clumsy, dropped it while trying to present it to her with all the puffed-chest pride of a toddler given a task.

He cried for twenty minutes after that. No amount of hugs and forehead kisses would get him to calm down until Jon told him, his dark brown eyes big and solemn, that he hadn't broken it, he'd given it some character.

Things were so much simpler back then.

Not easier, not really, just…less complicated.

At two am she decides to brush the stale coffee taste out of her mouth, but stops dead in her tracks on the way to the bathroom.

"I hate him," Max's quiet sniffling filters muffled through the closed door.

She shouldn't be eavesdropping. But she can't…not. The walls are thin, and the floor creaks, and she can't move without everyone in the house knowing she's frozen awkwardly in her own hallway.

Well. She toes at the carpet with socked feet. She might be able to sneak away. Maybe. But…

She's concerned.

God, she's becoming her mother. Nosy to a fault.

"I'm just…I'm just so angry, you know? He—he saved your life, and I'm grateful for that, but," she pauses, and there's rustling, a sigh, "Stupid asshole up and left me. Everything we've been through and he…he's gone, just like that, it's not fucking fair."

Joyce had heard about Billy Hargrove from Jonathan. Just a little bit, vague details. "There's some new guy at school," with a scrunched up face, nose wrinkled with distaste. And a week later, "He got into it with Steve, knocked him around pretty bad." It made Joyce nervous, whenever she saw him around town, picking up cigarettes from the store on the corner, driving that loud car of his up main street. She'd always think of the Harrington boy's face, bruised and swollen, the worst-case-scenario that used to haunt her thoughts after Lonnie gave Jon a black eye when he was ten.

Then, "Max's brother, he, uh…" Solemn brown eyes. It's not broken it has character. "He got…possessed, I guess." Standing in the Starcourt parking lot with a shock blanket around his shoulders, sweat matted in his hair, Jonathan pieced together what he knew. It wasn't much, and she couldn't stop thinking about Hop's teary nod, the white light that burned her eyes even though she closed them, the empty space where he'd been standing seconds before.

She feels horrible now, for only half-listening. For not giving much thought to the boy who died saving Jane.

He was just a kid. Only a few years older than Will.

"How did he even get caught up in this bullshit?" Max's voice breaks, despite the force of her anger, cracks under the strain of her grief. "Did…did you see? When you looked into his memories."

The silence is heavy. Strained. Joyce chews the inside of her cheek. She doesn't expect Jane to reply, and figuring she's heard enough she goes to tiptoe away.

"Yes."

Joyce freezes. Jane's voice is barely more than a crackly whisper, but unmistakable. There's a pang in her chest at the sound of it, emotion welling up, thick in the back of her throat.

"What happened?"

She can't help leaning in a little, stopping just shy of pressing her ear directly to the door.

"It was…nighttime. He was driving." There's a pause. "Mrs. Wheeler wanted to see him."

…What?

"What?" Max echoes, breathlessly scandalized. She can't think it was like that. Was it?

No, there's got to be an innocent explanation. She struggles to come up with one, but it must exist. Karen is her friend. Sort of. They went to school together. They've known each other their whole lives. Back when they were teenagers Karen had a bit of a reputation, sure, she was a ditz with lofty romantic notions and a string of boyfriends willing to play along, but she's settled since she got married, and she isn't a predator.

"He was going to. A mo-tel," Jane sounds out the syllables carefully, a child repeating an unfamiliar word.

Joyce's heart drops.

Her first, and worst, thought is about how that boy used to parade around town, drawing as much attention as possible. She'd never seen him with the same girl twice, and she'd never seen him in modest, weather-appropriate clothes. Karen was always weak for a flirty guy, she was easy to take in with a few flattering words, and by the time she realized they didn't mean any of it they'd already gotten what they wanted from her.

She assumes Billy must have laid it on thick, as he was prone to do, and Karen fell for it, like she always did.

But that was when she was a teenager too. When she was a silly, impressionable girl, not a married woman with three children of her own.

Her children, Christ. Joyce's stomach turns. Billy was in Nancy's year. He was Jonathan's age.

Bile burns the back of her throat.

She'd been hearing gossip about Karen and half her book club spending every day at the pool all summer and she hadn't thought anything of it. Not a goddamn thing. How long had it been going on? Was she sleeping with him when he was still in school?

Joyce puts her head in her hands and lets out a slow, silent breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She doesn't feel any calmer but she feels less like throwing up. Confused, directionless anger prickles under her skin. It's easier to be angry. At Karen for taking advantage. At herself for not caring soon enough. At everyone for not seeing it before it got him killed.

She hears Max swearing, ranting, none of it makes sense and she can only make out every other word. She's not sure Max even knows what she's saying.

There's this…itch. In her brain. That little buzz at the base of her skull, when she needs to get up and do something, when she can't sit still, stay quiet, but. But there's nothing she can do. There's nothing to be done.

Her fingers clench in her hair, hands trembling as she aimlessly pushes her bangs back.

She can't do a goddamn thing.

It takes Joyce three weeks to lose her shit.

She's been trying to get Jane settled in—with a few new things and a lot of hand-me-downs, she's tall enough to fit into a lot of Joyce's old clothes—but it's been…challenging. She still barely speaks. Joyce isn't sure if that's normal for her, and that's part of the problem. As much as she wants to take care of this child she barely knows her, and the universe doesn't seem to be that keen on giving her the time to change that.

Because she has…a lot on her mind. Looking into places to move, for one. Sunny places. With minimal suspicious deaths. And work has been much busier now that the mall has burned down. And people all over town are still talking about it, people who have no idea. Who don't know. They still pat her hand and tell her Hop was a hero, like that will make her feel better about pulling the switch that got him killed.

And then there's…the Billy issue.

Max comes around the house a lot. Always wearing a denim jacket that smells like Marlboro Reds. Snapping at Mike more and more often. And Joyce has no clue what to say to her.

If there's even anything she could say.

She keeps…failing. She failed Will. She failed Bob. Hop. Twice over, when she couldn't get him out of that base alive. And now. His daughter is struggling. Her friends are struggling. Joyce is doing everything she can but it's not enough, and it's driving her crazy.

She can't scratch that itch in her brain, no matter what she does. No matter how much often she rents Jane's favourite movies to watch as a family, or sits with her after dinner and goes over the writing and grammar worksheets they got from the library, or insists on cooking dinner and pretends Jonathan isn't hovering over her shoulder the whole time expecting her to burn their grilled cheeses.

Because every time Max stays over they all act like they can't tell she's been crying, like they don't see her eyes go vacant whenever someone lights up a cigarette or a car engine rumbles in the background or any number of tiny things Joyce doesn't catch that must be tearing Max up inside. Joyce lets her stay and puts food on her plate and a comforting hand on her shoulder but none of it helps.

And four weeks after Billy died, Karen Wheeler walks into Melvalds General, her hair perfectly curled, a tiny, sad smile pulling at her lips when she spots Joyce in her employee vest. She's coming over, hands folded to her chest, freshly manicured nails sparkling, the picture of grace and sympathy, with her soft eyes and pouting lips.

The whole routine has never rung so hollow before. Discomfort tugs at Joyce's insides, writhing in her guts.

"Joyce," Karen calls, stepping delicately around the half-unpacked box of mouthwash on the ground. Stocking shelves has never been Joyce's favourite part of her job, but she'd rather keep doing that than have this conversation. Karen reaches out, grasping Joyce's elbow. "I'm so sorry. I should have come to see you sooner…I know you and Chief Hopper were close."

Joyce shakes her hand off. "Sort of busy here, Karen. Work. You know how…it…" She pauses, and shrugs awkwardly, gesturing to the bare shelf behind her. "I'm in the middle of something."

That earns her a frown, a pitying look, sympathy to the point of condescension. "Did you take any time off? After…you know."

Like she can afford that. Jonathan's making less at his new job than he did working for the Post and she's got another mouth to feed now. Two if she's counting Max, which she might as well.

Max, who's a ticking timebomb nowadays. A raw nerve trying to pretend she isn't. A shell of the vibrant girl Joyce met last November.

Because her brother is gone, and it's Karen Wheeler's goddamn fault.

The itch returns with a vengeance. Crawling up her spine, a thousand tiny needlepoint fingers prodding her back. Her stomach feels like dropped jello, jittering fragments smashed on the ground.

She hasn't been told, in so many words, what life in the Hargrove household was like—is like—but Max says just enough that Joyce can put the pieces together. It's not a pretty picture.

And Karen got to go back to her cushy little life, getting her nails done and making casseroles like there's nothing wrong in the world, like her children haven't been fighting monsters right under her nose for years. Doling out advice like she knows a single thing about what any of them have gone through. Walking around with her head in the clouds because she can still pretend she's living in a normal town with normal problems.

Something bitter an angry takes ahold, all spite and thorns and a gnarled lump in her throat.

"What about you, Karen?" Joyce manages to keep her voice steady, calm on the surface and cold underneath.

Karen blinks at her, tilting her head in confusion. "Me?"

"Well, you knew someone who died in the fire too."

"I…a few of them, yeah." She folds her arms around herself. "It's a small town. But I didn't know any of them that well."

"No?" Joyce grits her teeth, venom sour on her tongue. "What about Billy Hargrove?"

He died saving Hop's daughter, and no one will ever know. As much as Joyce hates that everyone has an opinion about Hopper's death, she's starting to hate even more that Max will never once be told her brother was a hero.

Calling Karen out won't change anything, Joyce is just tired of being angry in secret.

It's almost satisfying to watch the colour drain from her cheeks. Less so to see her eyes start to shine with tears. "He…taught Holly a lot. She used to be terrified of the water, you know."

There's guilt colouring her grief. If Joyce didn't know to look for it she wouldn't have been able to tell, but it's there. It's also not enough. It's the vague regret of a woman carrying one tiny little secret, a woman who carries her past but isn't haunted by it. The rest of them have ghosts that following them every waking hour but Karen doesn't seem to be aware of hers.

"I know what you were doing!" Her voice cracks this time, strains under the weight of everything she has to hold back. "Don't act dumb, I know you aren't," she snaps when Karen opens her mouth.

"I—I didn't do anything—"

"Bullshit! Half the town saw you at the pool every day, drooling all over that boy, treating him like a piece of meat." That's all he was to anyone, wasn't he. Eye candy. Cannon fodder. A body for the Mind Flayer to take and use up. Joyce's eyes sting, and she jabs a finger into Karen's shoulder. "He was a child! How do you justify—"

"He was eighteen!"

"Exactly!" Joyce throws up her hands, the rage thrumming through her flares, all motion and energy and flushed cheeks. She doesn't care that her voice is getting shrill, her hands are shaking, Karen is glancing around the store nervously. "You took advantage of him, and you should have known better!"

"Joyce—Joyce, I swear I never—I have a husband for god's sake! I was just, I was just—he was just so nice, and, and I was lonely, but I never…" She breaks into tears, shoulders shaking, she presses a hand over her mouth when a sob tries to escape her. "It was a mistake," she says, voice wet and muffled by her palm.

Joyce clenches her jaw, and grinds her teeth, swallowing some of the bile crawling up her throat. "It never should have happened in the first place. None of it."

"I know."

"He was far too young for you."

"But—"

"A teenager, Karen! He was a teenager! In high school! He should have been worrying about zits and homework and goddamn prom, not middle aged women preying on him because they're trapped in failing marriages and trying to relive their youth."

Karen's eyebrows shoot up, and she mouths wordlessly, tears still dripping down her cheeks. "That's…" she sputters. "At least I still have a husband." She winces as she says it, with an immediate look of regret.

"That's what you're going with? Really?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"I don't give a damn what you think of me and my life. And I'm not the one you owe an apology to."

"I'm trying to do better, okay," Karen sighs, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. She looks tired. "I'm working on my marriage. And the kids…things have been so strained lately, but…I'm trying. I really am. It's not like I ever made a habit of going around flirting with random men!"

"What about boys."

"No—listen, it wasn't like that! He was—"

"Oh please don't say 'mature for his age'."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, is there a problem here?" Joyce's manager appears around the corner of a shelf. She'd almost forgotten there are other people in the store, but suddenly she'll aware of every eye turned in their direction. The nosy old church lady in the next isle, peering through the stacks. The pair of teenagers gaping at them from over by the watch display.

It's not the first time she's been a spectacle, but it seems like Karen isn't as acclimatized. She pales, and her eyes go wide. "N—no," she pastes on an unconvincing smile.

"Joyce, that shelf is still bare."

"Yeah, yeah," she mutters, and mock-salutes. "On it."

Karen scurries out of the store, whispers following her the whole way out.

It doesn't feel like a victory. It might just make everything worse, who knows. There's petty satisfaction in seeing Karen embarrassed, but Joyce is sure she didn't get through to her, not really. She doesn't understand the depth of her mistake, and she probably never will.

Joyce scratches the back of her neck. And gets back to work.

A week later Steve Harrington shows up on her doorstep with Billy Hargrove, bloody, bruised, and half conscious, plastered to his side.

"I didn't know where else to go," he says all in a panicked rush. He wipes his forearm across his face and leaves a smudge of dirt over one eyebrow. Billy blinks at her, bleary, unfocused, seemingly unaware of Steve's vice grip on his waist, and the tiny, gentle stroke of his thumb against the arm he's swung firmly over his shoulders.

Joyce's heart is in her mouth. She swallows, and tries to stay calm. There's an open, anxious plea all over Steve's face and she needs to get him through this somehow.

"You did good, honey, bring him inside."

Will's asleep, and Jon is at work, but the door of her bedroom creaks and Jane pops her head out as Steve is hauling Billy into the living room.

She goes wide-eyed. Then teary. "Max," she says after a beat, and slips back into Joyce's room, presumably to make a phone call.

"You stay with him, okay?" Joyce pats Steve's shoulder. He's tense. Joyce wonders where exactly he found Billy, and what he had to do to get him here.

Steve nods jerkily, an perches on the coffee table across from the couch he laid Billy down on, bouncing his leg. Staring. Flexing his fingers over and over again, fists pressed to his thighs.

There's something there and Joyce doesn't have time to unpack it.

She grabs a bowl from the kitchen. Fills it with warm water. Watches the water swirl, splash, droplets clinging to the plastic sides. Her vision is a little fuzzy. She's a little light-headed.

Billy is alive.

Somehow.

It's odd, seeing him in person again. He used to scare her. She can vaguely remember it. What it was like before. When he was an unknown, a new kid projecting danger as far as he could. It's like seeing behind an optical illusion. Figuring out how a magic trick works. Realizing that he was just a moth with a flashy pattern, hoping not to get eaten.

But wherever he's been, he's lost weight, lost that mask he used to wear everywhere. He's cracked open and bleeding on her couch, looking every bit the scared kid he always was.

Her heart aches.

Steve hastily folds his arms across his chest when she walks back into the room, a first aid kit tucked under her arm and a clean cloth floating in her bowl of water.

"Is he doing alright?" Joyce asks softly, glancing between the two of them. Billy startles at the sound of her voice, and Steve folds his lips between his teeth, looking pained.

"He…um." He doesn't even glance in Joyce's direction. Not for a second. She was under the impression these two weren't friends, but maybe she was wrong. "I'm not sure."

"Okay." She plonks the bowl down next to Steve, and sits on the couch, keeping a careful distance between her and Billy. He's shaking like a leaf and she doesn't want to spook him even more. "Help me get him cleaned up a little? It'll be easier to tell if he needs medical attention."

God, she needs a cigarette. Her nerves are fried and it's taking everything she's got not to just collapse right now. She's been awake for nineteen hours and the real estate agent that was supposed to contact her today flaked, and none of that even matters right now because she just wants to do something stupid like wrap both these boys up in soft blankets and mother the hell out of them.

Steve takes the cloth, pinching it between two fingers and eyeing it like it's a bug crawling in his lunch. His movements are stilted, unsure, but Billy lets him wipe the mud from his face without incident while Joyce roots through her kit. She keeps it better stocked than she used to. And thank god for that.

Though Billy's injuries don't seem too severe, Joyce notes as Steve continues to clean him up. The way he's moving his hands might mean trouble, he winced his way through Steve's ministrations and now he's keeping them curled in his lap, stiff and shaky, bruises darkening his knuckles. But other than that they seem to mostly uncover scars.

"I, um. This water is…" Steve gestures at the bowl of murky water. His gaze flicks over Billy, jumping from his hands to his eyes to the scars crisscrossing out from under his shirt. He jumps up, suddenly, water sloshing onto the carpet as he picks up the bowl. "I'll be right back," he announces, voice high and strained.

Joyce blinks at his retreating back. Then turns to Billy, whose gaze is lingering on the doorway Steve disappeared through. "So, you two are close, huh?"

He startles, and recoils, and shakes his head. "Not really." His voice is croaky, low and dry. She should've gotten him water to drink too.

He's fidgeting, anxious, unable to meet her eye, like a kid caught doing something they shouldn't.

"Well, he seems to care about you."

She doesn't expect the tears that well up in his eyes, spilling over without warning. He ducks his head like he's trying to hide it, but she's already seen. And there's no hiding the way his shoulders shake as he tries to steady his breathing.

Her heart breaks for him. Like it has been, again and again, for weeks now.

"Oh, honey," she says quietly, sadly, and he finally looks up at her, eyes shiny, cheeks wet. They look nothing alike, not really, but she's struck by an image of Will, three years old and bawling his eyes out over a chipped ashtray. The same feeling wells up in her chest, the same overpowering need to scoop him up in her arms and keep him away from anything that's ever hurt him.

She slides over and pulls him into a hug.

"You're okay now, it's okay."

He's tense, and trembling, and she thinks maybe she did the wrong thing here, but then he shatters, with a tiny, wounded noise, collapses against her, tucked into the crook of her neck like Jonathan used to when he was having trouble sleeping and she'd have to carry him for hours while he dozed.

He's okay. She'll make sure of it.

~tag list @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you @suddenlyinlove

#stranger things #joyce byers #billy hargrove #harringrove #(implied harringrove)#i didn't mean to finish this fic on mothers day but here we are lmao #joyce is a mess but she's doing her best #a raven's writing desk

108 notes · View notes

thevagabondexpress · 8 months

Text

guys, i'm not saying getting a bicycle will solve all of your problems, but it'll solve more of them than you think.

it's good for the environment —lower carbon footprint etc etc

it's good for your health —even on flat ground it still gets you a good workout, which is good for your physical health —it gets you that workout somewhere that's not a gym where you might feel stared at and judged which is good for your mental health and your self-image —it gets you out into sunshine and fresh air which is good for your mental health: you can touch grass and go places at the same time so if you don't have time to touch grass otherwise you can sneak it into your commute. —you really can't bicycle in high heels so you can use bicycling as your excuse to yourself and to everyone who wants to judge for wearing flat shoes and saving your feet. —you don't need a license to for a bicycle which saves you the mental stress of driving lessons and tests. —just the reward/payoff of the work you put into it: getting to the top of the hill, traveling further than you've gone before, doing a repair yourself, seeing another bicyclist on the street and knowing you're not alone

it's good for your bank account —bicycles are less expensive than cars by a lot. even new ones don't come in at much more than $800 (American dollars here for reference) unless you're ordering one of those swanky Dutch ones and shipping overseas, used ones are almost never over $150 and because they're not full of electric parts you can repair them over and over again so a used one won't be any lower quality than new, really. depending on how many bicyclists you know and how good your networking skills are sometimes you can get one secondhand for real cheap or even for barter or in return for doing odd jobs. meanwhile even the cheapest used cars are a couple thousand dollars usually. —bicycle repairs cost less than car repairs, and if you can learn to do them yourself they'll be even cheaper. —bicycles break down way less than cars so you'll be paying for repairs less frequently too —you don't have to pay to get it inspected once a year, neither do you have to pay for license plates, parking stickers, mandatory insurance, and all of the other bureaucracy that comes with driving a car —you don't have to pay for gas —you don't have to pay for parking, unlike cars where sometimes you have parking decks, parking lot toll booths, parking meters, etc. at least, i've never been anywhere you have to pay to park your bicycle. i guess it might happen in places where there are so many bicycles there's barely any space to park them all so you have to encourage people to walk or take skateboards somehow? but i don't really know.

it's good on space —you can fit three to five bicycles into the space taken up by a car depending on how close you're willing to shove them together. a single bicycle takes up space lengthwise (about four to five feet of it) but not even two feet widthwise. even a tricycle (and you can get adult tricycles and they can hold way bigger baskets and therefore way more stuff) takes up less than half the space of a car. imagine how much more other stuff you could fit in your garage.

in short, if you're at all capable of riding a bicycle, or a tricycle, get one and do it. at least borrow one from a friend for a weekend and try it to see if it's doable. it's so worth it.

#bicycles #bicycling #don't worry about storage either #there's so many kinds of baskets #and for big loads or small children you can get carts a bicycle can pull #those bicycle-pulled toddler buggies are the most adorable vehicles i have ever seen

48 notes · View notes

thejoyofseax · 23 hours

Text

Bustāniyya & Mis̲h̲mis̲h̲iyya

There was a practice day run by Master Agnes Boncuer in the Scout Hall in Clara the weekend just gone, courtesy of the good offices of THL Órlaith Caomhánach, and I took the opportunity to try out a couple of recipes on people. Both of these I've actually cooked before, but it was mostly before I was taking good notes. The two are from the same page of Annals of the Caliphs' Kitchens, the translation of al-Warraq by Nawal Nasrallah. They are bustāniyya, a dish with orchard produce, and mis̲h̲mis̲h̲iyya, an apricot stew. Both call for chicken rather than "meat", which makes them somewhat unusual.

It's worth noting that in both cases, where the recipe calls for the juice of the fruit, I used fruit and all. This is the "peasant" version of the dishes, at least in my head; while I can see the elite of the elite using just the juices and presenting meat "alone" as the dish, I can't see most cooks of the time leaving out the fruit. So in it went. I will at some point try the posh as-written version.

Here are the two recipes:

Bustāniyya (cooked with orchard produce) from the copy of Abū Samīn Wash small and sour plums and put them in a wet kerchief [to hydrate them] if using the dried variety. If fresh ones are used, [just] add to them some water, press and mash them then strain the liquid. Cut chicken breasts into finger-like strips and add to them whatever you wish of other meats. [Put them in a pot], add the [strained juice of] cherries, and let them boil together. Season the pot with black pepper, mā kāmak̲h̲ (liquid of fermented sauce), olive oil (zayt), some spices, a small amount of sugar, wine vinegar, and 5 walnuts that have been shelled and crushed. [When meat is cooked], break some eggs on it and let them set [with the steam of the pot], God willing. A recipe for mis̲h̲mis̲h̲iyya (apricot stew) Clean and wash a plump chicken. Disjoint it and put it aside. Choose ripe apricots, which are yellow and sour. Put them in a pot with some water and bring them to a boil. Press and mash them with the water they were boiled in, and strain them into a bowl.Now go back to the chicken, put it in a clean pot and add the white part of fresh onion (bayāḍ baṣal), cilantro, and rue [all chopped]. Add as well a piece of galangal, a stick of cassia, and whole pieces of ginger. Light the fire underneath the pot and let it cook. Then sprinkle the pot with onion juice and add enough of the strained apricot liquid to submerge the chicken. Season the pot with coriander seeds, black pepper, and cassia, all ground.Let the pot simmer until [chicken is] cooked and serve it.

For the bustāniyya, I had fresh plums (probably much sweeter than the ones available in period), frozen sweet cherries (definitely sweeter), and I left out the sugar to compensate. Last time I made this was over a slow fire, outdoors, and two different people asked if there was chocolate in it - at least in part due to the colour it arrives at. The plums this time were very juicy, and there was rather too much liquid overall, so that the eggs at the end were submerged and poached, rather than sitting on top to steam. I think the walnuts might be intended as a thickener, rather than anything else - I had them down to a grit, but not to a powder, so they didn't really work that way. "Some spices" is unusually unhelpful for al-Warraq, but I used some cinnamon and ginger. The spices tasted stronger in this than in the other dish.

The mis̲h̲mis̲h̲iyya I've done a few times now, and it's starting to enter my rotation as just another dish I can do at short notice. Chicken and apricots are a good combination in any cuisine, and I'm pretty sure I've seen tagine recipes very much like this. As usual, I left out the rue, because nobody ever knows if they're allergic to it or not, and I don't fancy someone finding out from my cooking.

Both were served with plain rice and stack of pita and naan bread.

They went down well in general, the mis̲h̲mis̲h̲iyya more so (a few people took some home, too). The bustāniyya had 12 eggs in it, and I've only accounted for about four of them being eaten, so either eight people ate them and didn't notice, or were so horrified by the discovery they couldn't talk about it. Daniel was amused; he'd expected his to be a large chunk of chicken, and was very puzzled by finding white and yolk when he cut into it. I suspect that the bustāniyya might actually be better with just the juices, as written, so that'll be the next thing to try.

#sca #medieval food #medieval cookery #medieval cooking #medieval arabic food #sca cookery #food history #arabic food #al warraq #nawal nasrallah #fruit #chicken

3 notes · View notes

theflyingfeeling · 6 months

Note

hellloooooo, have some pics of the cutest boyfriends to have ever boyfriended for your askbox 💕💖💘💗💗💘

idk if Allu is still in Oulu (my heart tells me no, hopefully I'm wrong), but this is delululand, so let's say that he is staying at least until the weekend is over and that they're gonna spend all their free time in their little love nest (and when Sunday comes, Olli will be clinging to his boyfriend because he doesn't want him to leave, and since it's not usual for Allu to stay at Olli's place, he will have to go back to an empty house and a bed that smells like Allu and they'll be counting the days until they see each other again and aaaaaaaa 🥺😭)

anyways. have an amazing day 💕💖💘💕💗💖💘

nooooo babieeeeeeeess!! 😭🤲💞 they look so good together I need them to be together 🥺💕

I also fear Aleksi may have gone home already (😔) but aaaaaaaaa maybe he WAS supposed to leave but Olli gave him the puppy eyes and so he postponed leaving until the next day, rinse and repeat until Sunday when they'd stay in bed until noon to cuddle and kiss and fuck until they have to get up to eat and Olli tries his everything to prolong Aleksi's stay but he really is expected back in Helsinki on Monday and they're not 100% sure how soon they're gonna see each other next, thanks I cried 🥺

also, the mental image of Olli lying alone in his Allu-scented bed hugging a pillow missing him terribly is killing me 😭🥺

have a lovely Friday yourself!! 💖💞💕💗💖💞💕💗

#thanks for giving me something to daydream about while being incredibly bored on my day off 🤧#mainly i'm thinking about them sleeping in and cuddling lazily in olli's bed #...until janne calls them on the phone to get up and drag their asses to the studio (where hes been waiting for 2 hours already) 🙄🙈#answered asks #ollixallu #catboyolli

5 notes · View notes

destinyc1020 · 1 year

Note

The golden globes are airing on a Tuesday night. That alone says alllllll we need to know about where they actual stand these days. No legit awards show airs on a Tuesday 😂

Actually, the Emmys also aired during the week last year as well Anon. 😔

A LOT of awards shows are now being aired during the week unfortunately. 🥴

Idk about other people, but it makes it hard for me to catch the shows when they're done during the week.

Plus, who wants to come home from a long, hard work day to watch a 3-hr awards show? 🥴

Sadly, the viewership for televised awards shows have gone down DRASTICALLY over recent years, and I'm sure covid didn't help 😕, so MY guess is that they are putting more and more awards shows on during the week in order to encourage viewership since studies show that MOST people watch TV during the week than on the weekends.

But honestly? I think it's going to have the OPPOSITE effect. 🥴

Before, nothing else was really on to watch on a Sunday when awards would come on. Now, they're gonna have to compete with everything else that's usually on TV on a Tuesday or Monday night. 🥴

If anyone knows the real reason why awards shows have been moved to week nights, by all means, plz let me know. I've been noticing it for the past couple of years, and honestly it sucks. 🥴

At least the Oscars are still going to be on Sunday lol 😆 THIS year at least lol....

9 notes · View notes

vinjaryou · 1 year

Note

XYZ

The Sexy ABCs Meme

also holy shit I am so sorry it took me THIS LONG to answer! ;; I'm sticking the answers under a cut to save your dash, and I hope you enjoy them~ ♥

X is for X-rated: Do they watch any X-rated movies (porn)? Together or alone? Do they have a favorite type? Do they try to reenact them afterwards?

Watching X-rated movies is something they indulge in on occasion, though they're also up to reading some kinky novellas, too. The first time they watched porn together, it was an (aptly enough) vampiric-themed movie that Reilena had gotten as a gag gift from Tifa. They'd thought it was just going to be silly, but it turned out to be pretty damned hot, hit upon more than a few of their kinks... and they did end up reenacting their favorite parts later that night ♥ (and still do every so often, as oops, the vampire roleplay is kinda fun).

As such, they're more for the fantasy-themed movies, and though they do have some BDSM kinks, they’re not too keen on non-con, and will usually skip over those scenes or movies altogether, or at least make sure they’re comfortable with it before watching; consent is sexy, and when the word’s said, it stops. But costumes, exhibitionism, growls, and biting and scratching in there? Yes please, especially when it gives them some new ideas for the bedroom~

Watching alone can be fun, too – there’s been a couple occasions where Tifa’s popped into Reilena’s apartment by surprise, only to catch her best friend abruptly switching the channel with a red face and a blanket yanked over her. Not that those two haven’t watched a movie or two together, as they did when they dated, and even now during girls’ nights in will pick out a ridiculously-titled film, crack open a bottle or two, and turn it into a drinking game while teasing the other about whether or not they’d try what’s onscreen with their respective partners.

On the flip side, Vincent’s only been walked in on once so far (in this lifetime) while indulging. His “oops” moment was when he was staying at Cid and Shera’s for a weekend, with Cid walking in to ask if Vincent would join him outside for a smoke break. A strangled, startled “!”, a glance at the screen, and Cid held his hands up and said “I’ll give ya a sec, Vince uh… catch ya out back?” though not without a little smirk, ‘cause the cape was definitely not over his shoulders at that time.

And sometimes alone doesn’t necessarily mean alone, as the private chat they have on their phones can attest to~

Y is for Yucky: Is there something they find particular disgusting or unpleasant in regards to sex? Something they’d absolutely refuse to do, even if the other really wanted it? Have they already denied the other some kinks because of this?

They're good at discussing boundaries and kinks, and have introduced one another to their own (Vincent turned Reilena onto shibari and bondage for example – and then proceeded to accidentally break a couple pairs of handcuffs because he really really really needed her, oops~), so when they come across something that might squick or freak the other/both of them out, it's talked over. Even if one seems entirely into it, the absolute second it looks like something’s not right, it stops. This came into play quite a bit when Vincent introduced Reilena to constraint kinks, as the last thing he wanted was to accidentally trigger her claustrophobia; constant reassurances were given, and it was taken as slowly as needed, with him giving her full rein on everything while talking her through it.

Which means yes, there have been times when they're making out and deep into foreplay, a question is asked, and they'll slow down (as much as possible) to make sure they're on the same level before continuing. Mussed hair, heavy breathing, clothes undone and rumpled (if not off entirely), and then a soft "are you okay with this?" This also comes up if he's gone semi-monstery, because he knows he can get very rough when that happens (and again with the possible claustrophobia due to wings enfolding them post-climax if he’s more Chaotic), and though she always reassures him that she's okay, he will always make absolutely sure.

Debasing/degrading talk is one that they won't do; dirty talk is all well and good, but there's that line that neither of them will cross. Bodily fluids need to be specified - bloodplay is very good (hello vampiric tendencies and biting/scratching), they both enjoy going down on one another and indulging in their tastes, but cum play is eeehhhh (heat of the moment has happened at times, but it's not a regular thing; this doesn't count licking them off of fingers though, as that is a yes good very good and a surefire way to get them even more riled up), and a hard no on anything that's supposed to go in the toilet, to put it nicely.

Z is for Zones: What are their most erogenous zones? Does their partner know all of them? Do they make sure to stimulate each other in said zones?

For her: the inside of her thighs is a very big one, especially the left, and he likes to take advantage of this by running his claws along her leg to get her flustered when they're sitting together in public; in the bedroom, he'll bite it just deep enough to draw blood, and let the blood run down her leg before licking it up and kissing the bitemark.

Caressing and running nails/claws across her hips and along the small of her back will get her warm and flustered in a hurry, moreso if he decides to take his time and lazily run his claws up her spine. Doing that while nuzzling the hollow of her throat? She will cling to him and beg him for more. Breasts feel almost like a given, but she can't help it, especially when he toys with her nipples until they're erect and almost aching; she has a tendency to really pull at his hair when he plays with her like this.

And for a more subtle one, the inside of her arms - running his nails/claws along her arm, up until their fingers link together and he squeezes their hands/presses them against whatever surface they're against. Soft, tender, and sensual, it's one he likes to do when they're in public, and will usually nuzzle/kiss a warmed cheek afterward with a murmured little tease.

For him: his neck - for a specific spot, the back of his neck - is one, and she will play this up as much as possible, as she'll run her nails down his neck while they're making out to get him to shiver. As such, she'll surprise him at times in public by brushing his hair over his shoulder to press a kiss against the back of his neck before whispering in his ear and slipping her arms around him, if not sneaking in a little nuzzle and kiss against the side of it as well. Nibbling, biting, and suckling at it is also a surefire way to get a nice, throaty groan from him.

His chest is a big one (haha), more now that he’s more comfortable with baring his torso. Feeling her hair against his skin while she’s kissing and licking her way down, giving special attentions to his scars (the once-fatal mark is a major one, which was a surprise to him as well, as he never thought it would turn him on so much until that night when he first revealed his torso scarring to her) will get him hot and ready to go in seconds, and when she moves down to nuzzle the happy trail of soft black hair from his navel down~? That’ll get some quality whimpering growls in an instant, as well as some claws or fingers tangled in her hair as he trembles.

He also just really likes his scars being kissed, caressed, and tended to. Considering the insecurities he’s harbored with them, and how many traumatic memories they still keep, feeling her touching and kissing them is at once a major turn-on and a tender reassurance. The torso ones were already mentioned, but the scars around his shoulder blades – marks where the wings of Chaos still burst out every so often – and the faded ones on his forehead – courtesy of Galian’s horns – are also ones that will get him warmed up while also feeling reassured and loved whenever she nuzzles or kisses them.

(and then I finished writing all this and thought "whoops, these are probably better for turn-ons," eep)

#steeleidolon #thanks for the ask!#t h e m #vinrei #look i love them a very normal amount #thank you so much for asking and if you want to ask more go for it!#it won't take me over a month to answer i promise fffffffffff

2 notes · View notes

ryosmne · 3 years

Text

Tattoo Artist! Sukuna x reader (part 3)

Hey there again, I had a few ideas of where i wanted to take the third part, I'm very happy with what I came up with, it's very very fluffy, I hope you have a good time reading 💜.

Series masterlist here

Here's a playlist for fluffy Sukuna

Warnings: Language, suggestive tones, alcohol consumption (everyone is of age here, around 21/22), nudity? Not really described, that's about it.

Saturday was slow for Sukuna, he doesn't really like working away his weekends, but here he is, finishing up a chest piece that looked good if he had to say so himself. Everything was luckluster to him compared to the project he was still drafting for y/n.

Speaking of her she hadn't texted him all day, neither did Sukuna. He told himself he wasn't clingy like that, she texted him before she would do it again surely. Y/n didn't pay much mind to him not making contact, perhaps he was busy. She wasn't wrong, she also had initiated most of their text conversations, she didn't want to seem desperate. Sukuna was going to contact her when he was free.

On the other hand Sukuna was stressed, passing in the hallway between the reception and his work booth, checking his phone every once in a while, he was a bit snappier than usual, not letting Gojo's or Megumi's remarks go, he would answer back, his voice almost dripping with venom, he was very much pissed and it showed.

When closing time finally came he was ready to blow up, Gojo teasing him, only made him more agitated. Gojo knew something was bothering him and he wasn't planning on dropping the subject.

"Hey 'kuna, tell the truth, you took her out and she left because she couldn't stand you, that's why you're so mad."

The white haired man joked, you could see the smoke coming out Sukuna's ears.

"Don't call me that. For your information, me and y/n had a great time, quit being an bumbass I'm not mad." Y/n did enjoy herself right? It sure looked like it. Was Sukuna getting insecure? Yes. Could everyone tell he was lying about not being mad? Also Yes.

"Oh so it's 'you and y/n' now? You were right Geto, he's got it real bad, he's not even calling her 'some girl' or something."

Gojo continued to laugh, he was enjoying every single second of torment he was putting Sukuna through.

He had enough though, he grabbed his jacket and his keys, but just before he left the rest of his crew and Yuuji, who came to eat with Megumi to close, he called to the most rational person inside. "Geto, come on I'll drive you home." Sukuna needed someone to talk to, he needed to know he was in the right and not going totally insane. Nanami was really close to him but relationships wasn't a topic he would really touch on. Gojo was out of the question, the man was a womaniser, not that it was a bad thing but he wouldn't even take Sukuna seriously, he only wanted to annoy him for the time being. Megumi was also a no. He would spill the beans to Yuuji, he already had Gojo on his ass he didn't need two more idiots making fun of him, one was barely tolerable. That only left Geto, who has at least had a few solid relationships and he was trustworthy enough not to give him too much shit.

Geto grabbed the chance not to have to clean for one night, but he was very curious about Sukuna's sudden move to give him a ride home, he has never offered that before. Yuuji had tipped him off, he knew his brother wanted to get all of the attention, if y/n didn't make a move, his brother would go insane. He was surprisingly right, so Yuuji told Geto to try and get his brother riled up. Now Geto didn't exactly agree, but he wanted to give Sukuna a friendly nudge to the right direction.

Sukuna had already been driving for a little while, he couldn't find the courage to open his mouth and talk. Has he gone mad? Its not like he's clueless about girls, he's had many. Why was it different this time?

"So how come you wanna drive me around at night?" The raven haired man asked, eyebrow raised, ready to hear what his friend was so on edge for all day, even though he had an idea. Sukuna wasn't one to share feelings, he never did, he couldn't really tell anyone the reason why not a single word from y/n all day irked him so damn much. "Look, so let's say there's this girl right? You take her out, you have fun, everything is cruising perfectly, but then she doesn't really talk to you the next day." He said with a small pause "hypothetically speaking" He added, just to avoid further questions.

Geto looked at him with a blank face, although he couldn't really believe in his ears, Yuuji was right, he knew his friend was falling face first, it still surprised him. He saw the day that Sukuna was stressed for a girl, if someone told him even two weeks ago that this was going to happen happen, Geto most definitely would've laughed straight in their face.

"Well it depends really, for example did you text her and she didn't answer? Then yeah, she's not interested, but maybe she's busy, or she started texting first and she wants you to initiate." Sukuna blinked "You're right she's busy, she has a test too, maybe she has been studying, she'll come around." He said, the words came fast out of his mouth. Geto looked at him again more serious this time. "Look man, I know for a fact, you haven't texted first, you seem to really like her, don't be a pussy and send her one text." His tone was equally serious. "I'm just fond of her, that's all she's good company." Sukuna tried to brush him off, Geto wouldn't budge. "Call it what you want, I know you like the feisty ones, so do many people and you know how college kids are, one party is all it takes to lead to who knows what. Man up, when you do you can bring her around the shop too, you know we all would love to meet her." By the time Geto finished his sentence, Sukuna had already parked outside of his apartment to drop him off, they shared their good nights.

For the rest of his lonely drive home Sukuna couldn't help but think of that party his brother mentioned a couple nights ago, was y/n going to be there? And Geto's words kept replaying in his head.

Geto was smiling to himself walking inside his apartment knowing he did the right thing giving his friend a slight push.

With her hair just the way she liked it, her make-up done and an outfit that extenuated her best features, y/n was making her way down the street to meet up with Mai outside of Todo's place. The walk wasn't too long and y/n caught a glimpse of her short haired friend, who was also dressed to impress, standing right out of Todo's door.

"You didn't wait long did you?" Y/n asked, Mai smilled and shook her head, she was the late one most of the time, she did make it just a second before y/n arrived.

"Let's go, my sister and Nobara are waiting" she informed y/n, who nodded. "Really, I haven't seen Maki in a while, Nobara rarely shows up in class too." She said full of excitement, the girls were friends for a long while, even before college. Mai and y/n ended up forming closer friendship.

"Yeah they're about to remind us of how single we are." Mai loved her sister with all her heart, she was very competitive though and when Maki got with Nobara before Mai could strike up a boyfriend in college, she took it a bit personally. Then she focused her attention on finding someone for y/n, but that never went well. Hopping right up the stairs both girls were talking about what they would see tonight, more accurately who. "So Yuuji is probably going to be here, I asked Todo" Mai said her eyes hopefull, y/n rolled her's and her companion didn't let it go unnoticed. "I really don't get you, he's cute, you even said so." There she goes again, but y/n wouldn't let it slide this time. "You seem way more giddy to see him, than I do." She said, knocking on Todo's door who was waiting right behind it, answering in seconds. Mai was still dumbfounded, she hardly acknowledged Todo at the door and made her way inside with y/n.

Thankfully the sofa on Todo's living room they usually sat on was only occupied by Maki and Nobara. "Wow sis you made it on time for once without someone dragging you out the house." Maki hugged her sister tightly, "I didn't really have a choice, y/n said she would go home if I was late again." Mai, said with a bit of a whine. Nobara went for y/n. "She's giving you hell huh?" Her comment made the girl laugh. "Nah she's fine, she can be a bit of a baby." That line made Mai slap her arm playfully, even when they made digs at each other, it was all in good fun.

Y/n could see Mai out the corner of her eye scanning the room, it wasn't unusual for her to do that, but it was the fourth time the past 30 minutes they've been here. Something was definitely up with her, and when she raised her hand having finally spotted the one she was looking for, y/n was a hundred percent sure of what was going on.

"Yuuji, over here" Mai called hand in the air, a very friendly smile on her face. Yuuji eagerly walked over offering his greetings, his attention was on y/n "Hey, has my brother texted you at all?" That was an out of the blue question. Mai gave her a look "His brother?" She questioned, then looked back at Yuuji "You've got a brother?" Why did he have to say that infront of Mai, she wouldn't leave her alone until she told her everything about the guy, she was at least thankful he didn't mention a date, Sukuna probably hadn't mentioned anything to him. "Oh yeah, he's the one I went to last week and no Yuuji he hasn't, did something happen?" Mai stayed silent, so did the other girls, they planned on interrogating her later, judging by the looks they exchanged. "Oh it's nothing" Yuuji let out a breathy laugh, knowing he plotted with Geto to get under his brother's skin. Payback for the bagels he baked at 4 am was going to be sweet.

Yuuji took a seat next to Mai, who introduced him to her sister, Nobara already knew him short of and the two of them begun chatting casually. Y/n could see the chemistry between them as he complimented the dark haired girl on the way she looked tonight. She could see their eyes meeting, something more than friendliness resided in the looks they shared.

Y/n let her friend have her fun, at this point Maki and Nobara had adopted her taking shots, talking about the annoying situations that have occurred in the time they hadn't seen each other. Nobara in particular, was sharing her frustrations about men not taking her seriously as Maki's significant other and continuing to make moves on her partner. "I shut them down" Maki said proudly snaking an arm around her girlfriend's waist. "I know you do, I just want them to feel a bit threatened" Nobara's eyes drifted to the floor . "What are you talking about? Remember the time you just looked at that guy eyeing her and he mouthed 'sorry'? You're very threatening." Y/n took another shot laughing with the two girls. Her comment was quite comforting to Nobara and Maki knew that things always went Nobara's way, she just liked complaining sometimes, she was the jealous type.

Todo with Takada in hand, who arrived right after y/n and Mai, answers his door again for the multipluth time this evening, seeing the last person he expected. "I thought you were too old for house parties" he taunted at the grumpy man infront of him. "Screw you I'm 26, and I didn't come empty handed" Sukuna spoke, his tone getting a bit friendlier at the last words in his sentence. He passwd the two bottles of vodka he held to Todo. "Well come on in, Yuuji's brother is also mine" he said giving the pink haired man a friendly hug.

Sukuna's eye scanned his living room untill his eyes landed on the back of y/n's head, he headed straight her way.

Y/n heard a few girls around her making a fuss over some apparently really hot guy who just entered, but she didn't bother turning around. That was until she heard it "Huh, who would've known, you actually have friends" That voice was unmistakably his. Sukuna was here. Y/n's heart was fluttering in her chest but the alcohol in her system made it easy to come up with a comeback. "At least I don't pay mine to hang around me." She said, her voice laced with sarcasm, she still didn't turn to face him, she was frozen in place. Mai's, Maki's, Yuuji's and Nobara's eyes were wide and dancing between the two. There was for sure something going on here. Sukuna took a seat beside her casually draping an arm around the back of the sofa. "You're hurting my feelings doll, I'm not that bad" he spoke so softly, she almost got lost looking into his eyes. He looked way too good for her liking, same jewelry and eyeliner as the last time she saw him, his pink her strategically messed up, a silk black button down with the top two buttons undone, exposing his defined collarbones and the tattoos that extended to his chest and neck, black pants framing his thighs perfectly as he sat. Y/n was staring at this point, her friends were silent, taking in the image that was displayed before them. They had never seen y/n flustered or having difficulty forming words. Even Yuuji was surprised, seems like he was wrong about y/n's taste.

Sukuna was enjoying the look on her face a little more than he cared to admit, he would've taken his teasing further, but he didn't want to embarrass the girl anymore and her friends were already shocked. "Aren't you going to introduce me?" He asked her poking her cheek, and y/n could see Nobara was about to blow up.

"Right, Mai, Maki and Nobara this is Sukuna, he's um my tattoo artist?" What was she even supposed to say at this point? The guy she went on a date with and had the best make out session of her life?

Sukuna gave his hand out to the girls greeting them, he noticed his brother a few seats over who was concealing a laugh "you're here too brat" he briefly egnowledged him, Yuuji hummed back a hello in return, turning to Mai who was very eager to hear the details of y/n's and Sukuna's relationship, he sure as hell didn't look like just her tattoo artist.

"Tattoo artist? Really? you don't even have tattoos y/n" Nobara spoke, she just wanted her friend to be honest with her, if she had someone special, she could have said so, they've known each other for years. Sukuna wasn't surprised to hear that y/n hadn't shared that she got tattooed, he could tell she was a bit of a private person.

Y/n took off her jacket that she still had on from when she arrived, to show off the design to Maki and Nobara, Mai had already seen it and she was busy gossiping with Yuuji anyways. "Right, I forgot to tell you" she said, as Maki and Nobara scanned her upper arm with their eyes, so did Sukuna. He couldn't help himself, y/n looked so beautiful in his work. He wanted to cover every inch of her skin she was willing to give him, she could be his personal work of art, she already was one, but he wanted to decorate her in the best way he could and with the most beautiful art he could make. "That looks so beautiful" Maki spoke in awe, Nobara gave a little laugh "it's creepy, but it's really you. "

She took a look at Sukuna then back at y/n "It's very fitting, I don't know how to explain it." She continued.

Sukuna never took compliments that seriously, but hearing y/n's seemingly bitchy friend praise his work and the perception he had of her made him grin widely.

The four of them continued to speak, Maki and Nobara were very interested in Sukuna's line of work, Mai and Yuuji also took their turns in talking when they weren't too busy with one another. Y/n's friends were doing great with Sukuna, she thought he would be really difficult, he has a very explosive personality. Sukuna was putting in all the effort to make a good impression, both to y/n and the ones around her.

"So, did you miss me that much you came to find me?" Y/n asked once the attention was taken off of them. Mai looked to be having a deep conversation with Yuuji whereas Maki and Nobara got up to dance. "And if I did?" Sukuna spoke, his face dangerously close to hers, when did he manage to get hip to hip with her? Then again y/n had grown so comfortable around him, she didn't notice.

"Well, if that's the case, I'm glad you did come." She replied, Sukuna could tell she was a bit tipsy, else he would be making out with her on that sofa not caring who was watching.

Y/n poured herself another drink, thank god she didn't have to get up to get a refill, but Sukuna's voice stopped her movements. "Maybe you should ease up there" he said watching her fill two cups.

Y/n raised a brow at him "since where are you a party pooper? come on it ain't a party without a drink" her voice was playful as she tried passing one cup to him. Sukuna liked this y/n too, she was a bit more giggly, she smiled a bit more, "I'm driving sweetheart". Y/n was satisfied with his answer and proceeded to gulp down on both the cups she filled before Sukuna could stop her. She laughed pointing at him with her tongue out "too slow". Sukuna could only smile and pat her head. She was something else.

Somewhere along the night, Maki and Nobara disappeared and so did Yuuji and Mai. "You better tell your brother to take good care of my friend" y/n's state was getting worse, or more hilarious, it depended on how you looked at it. Sukuna would straight up laugh with some of the things she said, and he was trying his best to keep all forms of alcohol away from her, for her own good. "I don't think you should worry, Yuuji is much better than me in these kinds of things." He replied honestly, but y/n didn't necessarily see it like that. "There's no way he's that smooth" she trailed, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Well if I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked me, didn't you think I was a dick?" Sukuna asked "Still do" her smile only grew wider.

One thing was for sure, y/n was very demanding when drunk, Sukuna left her side for the first time all night to get her some water, cause she felt 'like SpongeBob under that lamp drying out'. Not even slightly bothered by her request, Sukuna was on his way back to her, that's when he saw some guy standing infront of her trying to talk to her. Y/n even in her not very conscious state didn't tolerate people who didn't respect her "Just one song, come on it won't hurt, you're alone after all" the guy, y/n didn't care to catch the name of said "look, I don't dance, not unless the company is worth it, and I'm here with someone, leave me alone, this is getting annoying" Sukuna observed laughing to himself. He didn't feel the need to intervene yet. Y/n didn't like getting bossed around that's for sure, nor did she need a knight in shining armour to protect her, not that he would mind doing that. Sukuna casually sat down beside her again, ignoring the guy who was still standing there for some reason. That irritated him, it was enough that he tried to make a move on her, but not leaving while he was right there rubbed him the wrong way, "Here you go sweetheart" He said handing her the glass, praying that she won't drop and break it, he threw a glare at the guy who finally took the hint and left. "Thank you 'kuna." Y/n spoke, in a tone totally different from the one she had moments ago.

The nickname alone made his heart jump. Gojo was quite annoying when he called him that, but hearing the same word rolling out of y/n's tongue was completely different. Sukuna couldn't tell why he was feeling that way, he didn't care though, all he knew was that even the air smelled sweeter, when he was around her.

"You don't dance unless the company is good?" He asked, genuinely curious "well yes, if I feel comfortable I'll dance, but I don't really do it that much" she said, eyes heavy looking all over Sukuna's frame. " I see, how about we dance?" Sukuna suggested, he rarely danced himself, y/n made him want to get out of his comfort zone, hell he's already at a house party thanks to her.

"Only if you take some shots with me." She smilled at him malevolently. "You're playing dirty, who's going to take you home if I'm drunk?" Sukuna just wanted to hear her drunken logic "It probably takes a bottle for you to get drunk, you're clumsy, drunk or not, you're probably going to kill me if I get in your car".

Sukuna was full blown laughing, but she was right, her head was still not gone, she could walk and talk fine, she was just more talkative and cheerful, couple of shots wouldn't hurt, he could walk her home after since she lived close by, he remembered the way and then walk back home himself. She also gave him the cutest look he'd ever seen, how could he deny her?

"Ok you win" he raised his hands in defeat and y/n couldn't be happier. She poured 4 shots for them, which they quickly consumed and they were off to dance.

She never pictured him as a dancer, y/n saw Sukuna as the very cool looking dude standing on the bar, probably drinking whiskey with a bit of ice.

Looks can be deceiving, Sukuna was spinning her around, their bodies were pressed together, guiding each other to the beat. Eyes were meeting, body heat was exchanged, they fit like puzzle pieces even like this. Y/n kept looking at the exposed skin of his neck, why did he have to look like that and be this close, her face only grew warmer once her eyes met his and then dropped to his lips. Its not that Sukuna didn't want to kiss her, he would most certainly prefer her to be sober and remember it clearly the next day.

Those last two shots y/n had, in addition to Sukuna's body against hers, made her vision a bit blurry and her knees weak. "Hey doll, everything ok? You with me?" He shook her lightly by the shoulders, he could tell she was growing tired and he noticed how her demeanor changed. "Mhm, I'm sleepy 'kuna" there she goes again, making his heart skip beats. Y/n would be giving him so much shit had she realised she made him feel like that. "Ok then, how about we take you home ?" Sukuna's voice was so mellow, almost like he was talking to a toddler.

He guided her out of the crowded house, Todo was nowhere to be found, so Sukuna couldn't really let him know he was leaving.

Y/n was leaning on him, walking slowly down the street towards her place, but she abruptly stopped and sat down.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna asked, his sound as mellow as before. She was down right adorable, sitting there with a pout of her face .

"My feet hurt" y/n complained, dramatically throwing her arms around, if it was any other person Sukuna would've droped them to fend for themselves. "Really? That's sad" he replied, dropping down to her level, she only nodded, women's shoes are the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Sukuna scooped her up in his arms and carried her bridal style the rest of the way, he couldn't have her complaining and it wasn't like she would remember much either. With her arms wrapped securely around his neck, y/n could feel the warmth creeping up her neck all the way up to her ears, she didn't see the satisfied smile Sukuna wore.

Today went a lot better than he expected. So well that the tiredness got to y/n before they reached her apartment. Sukuna watched as she fell asleep in his arms. What a strange girl, she had both shyness and attitude, she was dancing her heart out no more than 15 minutes ago yet she still managed to fall asleep as he carried her.

Reaching her building, luckily the main entrance was unlocked. Sukuna took a peek at her, he couldn't bring himself to wake her up, she looked so peaceful, but unfortunately he had to. "Hey, which floor are you on?" He whispered softly, that was enough to shake y/n awake. "Third" she whispered back. Sukuna took the elevator up, and he finally reached her hallway, he only wished she didn't get her floor wrong or it would look like he was trying to break into someone else's house. "Doll, can you point your door for me? I'll put you down for a bit, where are your keys?" Y/n pointed at her door, handed Sukuna her keys and groaned as he set her down to unlock it for her. "You're such a brat" he pointed out swinging the door open, her annoyed face looked even cutter under the barely lit hallway.

Lord knows how Sukuna managed to find the light switches in the dark but he made it, y/n looked completely out of it now. He picked her back up and tried a few doors to find her bedroom. He gently layed her on the mattress. Y/n groaned again and said something about being uncomfortable. Of course she was uncomfortable, with her clothes still on from going out, there's no way she wasn't.

He shouldn't care right? He should just let her be and go home, but Sukuna could already tell she would have an awful nights sleep and he wanted her to rest properly. "Were do you keep sleep clothes" he asked, y/n pointed lazily at some drawer. After briefly digging in the drawer, he took out a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie for her.

He reached her frame again, undoing her shoes, sliding them off, next he prompted y/n with her side resting on the headboard so he could have her sit up with her legs dangling of the side of her bed. His hands found the rim of her shirt, her voice stopped him "don't look ok?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I won't look"

"Promise?" She asked holding out her pinky

"promise" he stated locking it.

Sukuna averted his eyes from her body and helped her into her comfy clothes. Only one thing remained "Now come on time to get your makeup off"

"Nooo, I want to sleep" she complained loudly, dropping her body backwards on the bed. "Come on, it's not good for your skin, it will just be a minute, just be good for me" he said grabbing her hand, but y/n turned her head away. That's when Sukuna threw her over his shoulder, the most she could do was weakly hit his back and tell at him to put her down.

Sukuna sat her somewhere in her bathroom, while she still mumbled about being sleepy. He got a washcloth wet, and took a look at the products in her cabinet, she surely had an oil cleanser he just had to find it... bingo.

He pushed her hair out of the way and gently applied and massaged the product on to her skin, giving her instructions to keep her eyes and mouth close, he was extra careful not to cut her with his nails, then he used the washcloth to remove all the make-up that melted off. Sukuna also wore liner, not all the time but often enough to know that some things didn't come off with soap and water. He takes care of himself, his skin, his hair, his nails, everything. He knows a bit more than he's willing to share. Next he followed the same steps with her cleaner, y/n was enjoying herself, half asleep under his touch. He finished everything by applying a serum and a moisturizer on her face. "You've got the cheap stuff." He joked. "Hey it works" y/n defended as he picked her up once more.

This time he layed her under the covers, he pulled them up over her body, looking at her with plain adoration, he leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep tight, I'll text you." He whispered in her ear, turning around to leave. A hand tugged oh his wrist, the same way he had done to her a couple days ago. Y/n was looking at him with pleading eyes "please stay" she almost begged, "are you sure? Its really late" he said, y/n nodded patting the spot beside her, he couldn't say no to those eyes. He quickly got rid of his shoes and dress shirt, he disappeared to the bathroom to take off his eyeliner and got under the covers with her.

Y/n curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest, taking in all his warmth and scent while listening to his heartbeat, his arm was wrapped securely around her.

" Can I ask you something?" Y/n's voice broke the silence. "Didn't you want to sleep?" Sukuna teased, and y/n took the opportunity to ask anyway. "Why do you like me?" What kind of question is this? Sukuna blamed the fact that she was a bit out it. She had no reason to be insecure, she was stunning and she also had a personality to back up her looks. "Let's see... you're kind of a badass, no one really talks back to me like you do, you're quite easy on the eyes too" what he said was very true, but he was falling for the little details too. The way she picked mindlessly at her food as she talked when he took her out, or the way her eyes sparkled when something peaked her interest. Even her drunken self had him feeling things he never did.

"How come you were single? Judging by your friends it's been a while" The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, but y/n didn't give any signs of being bothered by his assumption. "Honestly, I don't want someone to fall out of love and leave me behind" Drunken words are sober thoughts. Sukuna didn't want to ask if that had happened to her before, he didn't care, he would do better than whoever hurt her.

More moments passed with him rubbing comforting circles on her back, he was sure she was asleep, her breath was slow and steady against his chest. "I wonder, what would you say if I asked you to be mine?" Sukuna whispered, staring up at her ceiling. "I'd say yes, airhead" y/n mumbled. Sukuna's eyes widened, she wasn't supposed to hear that. "I'll make sure to ask you soon then" he said, y/n looked up at him, this time he couldn't help himself and captured her lips in his, in a very slow passionate kiss. It didn't last long but it was enough to keep y/n's head spinning around with him running through it. "Sleep already, brat"

"okay 'kuna".

The light coming in, beaming through her curtains, woke y/n from a very peaceful sleep, now all she felt was the vodka she consumed the night before. Her head was pounding hard, she reached for her phone on her nightstand. Instead of her phone, her hand made contact with a piece of paper.

Good morning doll.

You're most definitely feeling like shit, but don't worry you didn't do anything too embarrassing. Unfortunately I had to go to work early and you looked cute sleeping, I didn't want to wake you. There are pain killers next to you, you must have a hell of a headache. Don't forget to eat, I made breakfast for you in the kitchen (with all I could manage to find, you should go grocery shopping more often). Text me or I might think you died in your sleep. Have a wonderful day y/n.

- Sukuna

PS I took a peek in one of your notebooks. I was right, your handwriting is really fucking bad.

Of course he had to be his usual smug self, y/n found herself laughing at the words scribbled on the paper that was obviously ripped out of one of her notebooks. His handwriting was as pretty as his drawings, so aesthetically pleasing. He had even taken time to doodle coffee cups, and some trees at the bottom of the page.

The events from the previous night were starting to flood back to her head head. She took the pain killers Sukuna left out for her, he was kind enough to place a glass of water on her nightstand too. Y/n couldn't believe Sukuna not only stayed over, but he also put in so much effort for her, he certainly didn't look like the type to do so.

Walking in her kitchen, what she witnessed, exceeded all her expectations. When she read breakfast she thought he made her a sandwich, which she would've been extremely grateful for. Sukuna had gone all out, from pancakes, to French toast, an omelet and even her coffee served. She just stood there looking at her table, mouth almost hanging.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her sweat pants.

You should've told me you were going out with Yuuji's hot brother. I would've never guessed that's your type.

Mai seemed to be in a mood to tease her.

You're right I should've told you, your turn, where did you and Yuuji run off to last night?

Y/n laughed knowing it was going to take a while to get a response. She sat down looking at all the choices she had, wondering what to pick. It's safe to say everything was as delicious as Sukuna.

I'm impressed. You draw, you cook AND you didn't burn down my house, I'm very thankful for that (breakfast was delicious too).

Sukuna, stared down at his phone, all the stress he had two nights ago long forgotten. Only thing that remained was to get y/n right back in his chair.

Happy to hear you're alive and kicking and you enjoy my cooking. I've got to go through, some dickbag wants me to do a cover-up. I'll talk to you later.

He dealt with this client in an unusually polite manner. Y/n had brighten his morning from the moment he woke up next to her.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Yuuji was right, I had to push him" Geto said to an agitated Gojo, who wanted to get under Sukuna's skin for a little longer. "Then hopefully he will bring her over, that would for sure be fun, he's going to get so worked up if we give her any attention." Gojo was rubbing his hands together at the thought. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not that worried about what Sukuna will do to you, we've both seen y/n, she doesn't even take his shit, I think she'd hit you." Nanami pointed out ."Well I haven't yet seen her, Yuuji said she was nice to him." Megumi joined the conversation remembering his friend talking about the girl, he had zoned out for half of it though. "I haven't seen her either, I did hear her though, she doesn't sound like she would let you pull something like that to him" Geto spoke again. "Nah she looked friendly, we can for sure make him foam at the mouth" Gojo plotted. "I can guarantee, she will rip of your head of if you try your shit." Sukuna was sure of it too.

Tag list: (message me or comment and I'll gladly add you)

@artist4theworld @skatercashew

@divineteaty

@in-inception @not-another-ackerman

@jjk-is-my-shit

@ilovemarvel99

@thegaymadafakkasworld

@readinghassavedmylife

@ruler-of-the-skies

@bluebananasssss

@ghost-of-todoroki

@sabsaocit

@heaveus

@jackysenpaii

@rebenok-zimnayaya

@aam1na

@sore-eyes

@ryan249057

@goobygoobster

@charlie-xo

@kamisamaundercover

@shadoweepingscream

@sunfloweroranges

@fiona782

@levi-ships-eruri

@chocolatecake764

@stupid-simp33

@ciphersighs

#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #au sukuna #au ryomen sukuna #tattoo artist sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #Spotify

569 notes · View notes

binniedeactivated · 3 years

Text

— #txt reactions.

(toxic txt....)

a/n; hey guysssss <3 toxic txt under the cut

╰┈➤ soobin --- it finally happened and you couldn't be happier. you were waiting for this moment since you first got the job. especially since you worked your ass off in that place day and night, picking up the slack that your coworkers left for you. you were excited that all of that work didn't go to waste and that your boss finally saw the value you held at the company. when you finally came home you just wanted to do a happy dance across the kitchen floor. a $25,000 raise and a promotion was enough to make you dance like no one was watching. except, someone was watching and it was your beloved husband soobin, who was currently cooking and smirking a little at how giddy you looked. "someone's excited?", he spoke, stirring the food in the pot. you turned to hang your coat on the coat rack trying to hold back how much you wanted to just run around the house. "I have good news baby". he fetches the seasonings across from him. "what is it?". you exhaled, "remember when I'd come home complaining about work and how lazy my coworkers are and how they never do anything?". soobin nods and hums. "mhm?". your heart started to pound. "well.. I don't have to do that anymore because i finally got a raise and a promotion! And I'm making more money than them now. I even get to manage several locations I'm so excited!". you were expecting a lot of reactions out of soobin, but one thing you weren't expecting was for him to go completely cold after that sentence. he didn't smile or jump around with you. he just stood there and continued cooking as if you didn't say anything at all. "soobin?". he hums in response. "did you hear me? I just said I got a promotion and a raise". he nods his head. "yeah I heard you". you throw your hands down at your sides, getting pissed. "so? you're not going to be happy for me?". he leans his hands on the counter giving you a deathly stare. "you don't ever think before you take things? like honestly. how are you going to manage several locations that are much too far from the house? that position is too much". he said annoyingly. you couldn't believe he was being like this. "it's a position that's going to get me closer to the position I really want to be in. why are you turning this into something negative?". he continues stirring, "because it is. it's a dumb decision".

╰┈➤ yeonjun --- as soon as you guys started this type of relationship you agreed it would be a strictly friends with benefits type of deal. no romance or anything of that sort. just sex. good enough sex to satisfy you both throughout your stressors of life. you couldn't get enough of yeonjun and he couldn't get enough of you. he knew exactly how to handle you. but as yeonjun came and went from tour to tour around the world, you had kids. two of them. and it was getting difficult by the day caring for them by yourself and taking in all the finanical responsibility especially if their father was a pop star. yes, yeonjun was their father and you had yet to tell him. in order to cover things up you told him you were screwing around with one of your exes, which yeonjun didn't really care about since he was only with you just for the sex anyways. well, that's mainly what scared you. he didn't care about you or your life, just sex with you. it was the weekend just before yeonjun was scheduled to go on another tour again, and after another session with him he had fallen asleep beside you. money was getting tight and you were on the verge of almost losing your home due to caring for the kids. you decided that it was time he knew, so that he could at least help you. you shook him gently until his eyes fluttering open. "yeonjun? we need to talk". he rubs his eyes and yawns. "about?". you bit the sides of your tongue nervously. "i haven't been honest with you". you admitted, leaving yeonjun to immediately give you a heart wrenching stare that gave you goosebumps. that was another thing about yeonjun. he had a temper equivalent to a lion's roar. "what are you talking about?". you breathed. "those kids? that I told you were from my ex...they're not. they're yours. I had them while you were touring and I hid most of my pregnancy from you and I'm sorry. I'm struggling to raise them alone and I really need a father figure to help me with this". he immediately exhales and facepalms himself in distress. "why are you just now telling me this shit?". "I was scared of what you were going to say". "you don't just drop that on someone. especially while I'm in the midst of another tour-- i can't do this right now". he grabs his shirt and wrestles it over his head. "where are you going?". "I'm leaving. I have to deal with this when I'm ready to deal with it". he lifts himself off the bed and you panic when he walk towards the door. "yeonjun I'm telling you I need help I can't do this alone". he doesn't even look at you before he shuts the door behind himself. "I have to go".

╰┈➤ beomgyu --- "well I think this house is perfect for you both and I can't wait to see you two moving in it". you nodded at your realtor, doing the last walk around in the home you and beomgyu dreamt of having. you wished he could've been here, the moment you guys were finally going to pay the closing costs and settle things just before moving in. but unfortunately he told you that he had to work almost all day today and he wouldn't have the time. you thought this was kind of a special moment but you didn't want to make such a fuss about it. you instead did things on your own, pooling out your wallet to pay the money that would make you and beomgyu home owners. but once you unzipped your wallet you realized that every wad of cash that you held within it was gone. your stomach churned at the sight, not believing this was happening to you at this moment. you gave a nervous chuckle at your realtor, doing another search through your purse trying to figure out if it dropped in there perhaps. you could've sworn it was in your wallet beforehand. looking through your purse hadn't helped, you could only find a couple of old crumpled dollar bills. what was once the most happiest moment of your life quickly became the most embarrassing. and to make matters worse you recalled that beomgyu had been spending more than usual lately, thousands at a time in fact and claiming that it was for work. nothing made you more angry than being embarrassed like that in front of your realtor and possibly loosing the home, most of this anger is the anger that you unleashed on beomgyu as soon as he walked in the door that night. "so what the fuck gyu? what the fuck was that today?". he kicked his shoes off at the door tiredly. "what are you talking about?". he asks even though he knew already. he expected this to happen."you know that house that we already started buying? yeah the closing fee had to be paid today and you knew that. where did all that money go?! why the fuck are you spending so much money?! that was the house that we always wanted". "I didn't spend the money. I don't know what your problem is, blaming me when you're the one being irresponsible". "you're a liar! that closing money was in my wallet for weeks. now all of a sudden when I'm about to spend it it's gone. you have bad spending habits and lately they've gotten worse. where's the fucking money gyu?". he said nothing, just continued walking passed you and getting ready for bed like you weren't even there. he knew what he spent the money on. strippers and explicit services from different women. but that was the last thing he was going to tell you. you swallowed hard and continued speaking. your cheeks burned with fury. "and to top it all off you knew I wanted that house to be ours so we can build a family and start our life in it. why do you do fucked up shit and just not care?". he finally shifted his attention towards you, looking more mellow than anything else. "you need to calm down. alright? I didn't spend it. and if anything, we can find a house somewhere else. it isn't that serious and you need to stop blaming me for everything".

╰┈➤ taehyun --- it always got like this when taehyun was drunk. and taehyun drank pretty often. he wasn't a stranger to liquor and that's what made you most afraid when he got a hold of any. especially on a night like this. your job was having a banquet in celebration of your boss and you were required to attend. you bought a beautiful gown for yourself and of course a lot of expensive makeup and jewelry. you wanted to look your absolute best since almost every executive you could name would be there. but unfortunately taehyun was home, drinking and watching you get ready. he winced at the burning sensation of the liquor slithering down his throat. "where do you think you're going?". you could see him through your long mirror, looking like a drunken mess. his eyes were hazed and he didn't really look like himself. not the sweetheart taehyun that you once knew, the one that used his funny and romantic personality to reel you in the beginning. "I'm going to a banquet taehyun. it's for my boss and I can't be late". he swallows and takes another look at you. "you think you're going anywhere looking like that? what? are you planning on leaving me?". you should've. you should've left him a long time ago as soon as he started to show signs and you knew it. "It's a banquet taehyun. I have to look my best. I can't be looking crazy in front of everyone". he did that fake laugh that you hated. "stop being a liar. you think you're leaving me, and I'm not letting that happen". you shake your head. "don't start this. not tonight. I told you I have somewhere to be and I'm telling the truth. If I were leaving you I would've been gone already". he gives another throaty laugh before taking another swig of his drink. he was nothing like you thought he was when you first met him. "please. you would've been gone already? do you really think there's people out there that want you?". you snapped your head back at him in shock. "what?". "I said do you really think there's people out there that want you? you're lucky that you even have me. you haven't left me not because you don't want to, but because you can't". you clenched your jaw tightly in a fit of rage. "what?". he smirked. he liked whenever he hit a nerve with you. "you heard me. you made me like this. drinking all the time and shit. you drive me crazy. you see how much you've ruined me? you're a toxic piece of shit and no one else is going to put up with you".

╰┈➤ kai --- you both talked about this already. way before your relationship had even started heuning assured that he was completely fine with it. you had a son from your previous boyfriend and kai offered to care for him even though he wasn't exactly his. your son wasn't the problem but it was your ex that drove kai up a wall. he hated the way that your ex was still in love with you. he hated the way he looked at you. he hated the way he talked to you, sweet, and almost as if he was trying his absolute best to win your heart back. what you didn't know about kai was that his jealousy streak was far beyond anything you could ever imagine. so much that he wouldn't even be able to stomach the thought of you with someone else. or you having friends even, taking away the time you could've been spending with him. his jealousy went to unbearable lengths, most of which you haven't seen because he hid this trait from you. it was your son's third birthday, you were throwing a party from him in the backyard of your home. it was the cutest thing kai had ever saw and he wanted to just jump in the bouncy houses along with the kids. but instead, your boyfriend put his childlike traits away and steadily watched you and the father of your child talking across the yard. he couldn't tell what the conversation was about but he saw the man smiling. it didn't take much for kai to make assumptions and as of now he assumed he was flirting with you yet again. he approached the both of you, sliding his arm around your waist and kissing you on your cheek right in front of him. he could see the anger simmering in the man's eyes but kai didn't care. he does that smile that he does for everyone. the smile that made him look like an innocent child "baby I think jae had an accident in the bouncy house", kai informed you. you hurried to the child's aid just like he wanted, leaving him and the man alone. kai reaches into his back pocket and discreetly flicks up his blade, pushing it against the man's clothed stomach. the man's eyes grew large at the sudden threat. kai smirked at his fear. his smile faded and his eyes grew incredibly dark. "flirt with my fiancé again and I promise this blade will go straight through you".

#yeonjun #yeonjun angst #toxic!jun #soobin #soobin angst #toxic!soobin #beomgyu #beomgyu angst #toxic!gyu #taehyun #taehyun angst #toxic!tyun #kai #heuning kai angst #toxic!kai #toxic!txt #txt reactions #txt angst #toxic relationships

172 notes · View notes

exrayspex · 2 years

Text

ranting about my miserable life under the cut

so my mom finally, finally told my dad she wanted a divorce, but bc she did it while they were out having drinks and she hasn't said anything about it since, he thinks she wasn't serious. so it's like nothing happened at all.

and like, she won't tell him she's serious now bc my cousin and her husband and kid called wanting to come visit and stay with us this weekend, and she didn't wanna say no. so now i know she won't wanna say anything until after they're gone. except she won't say anything immediately after either, bc then it'll be during the week, and she won't do it unless it's a weekend.

and she wouldn't have to be so nervous about telling him if she'd just fucking admit it's not gonna be amicable enough for them to stay living together the entire time! if she had the spine to fucking get it mostly over with in one go.

and she was complaining to me about all the shit she wished he did earlier, and doing her awful and horribly triggering fucking passive aggressive sighing. and i hate it when she complains to me about him not doing stuff around the house bc like. the implication that i should be doing it then is always there and has been my whole life.

she has always said she doesn't mean it that way, but if it's too much for her to do and he is refusing to do it then who the fuck does that leave? and i've never been good enough to do it all; i failed when i was a kid bc i was a kid and i fail now bc i'm too disabled. every time she does this i just hear that i'm not enough, that i'm bad, that i'm lazy, that i'm a failure. and so i apologize to her, just like i did tonight! and she usually ignores me, just like she did tonight.

and i'm mad about how hutchie has been so isolated this past year and a half-two years bc the dog is in the living room and that's where the people usually are and we have to keep them separated bc she goes nuts when she sees him. and i have tried to work with her to train her to be ok with him but i'm just not able to do it alone. and of course neither she nor my dad have made a single bit of effort to train her so that my boy can actually be in the living room with all of us again.

and i'm angry that he's dying now and will have spent the end of his life isolated and shoved aside for a newer pet, despite my best efforts. i deliberately make sure i still spend time with him but i am asleep a lot! and still during dinner, and when we're watching tv, my baby is all alone. i've told her about this several times and each time she just fucking ignores me.

AND we were bickering about the syringes and dose change for hutchie's medicine bc different units of measurement on syringes is what caused me to mess up an insulin dose in a way that nearly killed him once, so i wanted to be extra careful. and she was so annoyed with me, and as i was giving him his meds and still saying something about it i saw her walk by in the hall and she was making this silent, annoyed, mocking 'blah blah blah' face/gesture that she does when my dad won't shut up and is being a dick, and it made me so upset.

like oh i'm not supposed to think she's mad at me too when she complains about him not doing stuff, and she doesn't think i'm just like him just bc i'm not an invertebrate like her, and i'm being ridiculous if i perceive those things, but she'll mock me behind my back when she's annoyed with me the exact same way she does with him? fuck off. i was being whiny about it (hmm, maybe bc i was upset by her complaining about him not doing shit to me again) but my concern was a legitimate one!

god she's just. she thinks she's sooooo superior bc she's so conflict avoidant, or at least that she's just nice to the point of being easily taken advantage of bc of it, but the truth is her extreme conflict avoidance makes her an asshole a lot of the time.

ignoring my miserable apologies, ignoring me when i bring up being upset she hasn't trained her dog more, mocking me behind my back when she thinks i can't see, the constant fucking sighing that she knows is triggering for me, refusing to stand up to my dad about me, refusing to finally fucking divorce him and just complaining to me instead. all things that hurt me and are straining our relationship and all things that are rooted in her fucking conflict avoidance.

she's such a fucking coward; she'll hurt me over and over if it means she doesn't have to be brave. she's always been the cruelest to me when i have forced her to participate in or witness conflict. that time when we were all traveling like 5 years ago when she was so, so, awful to me it ruined my trust in her forever? was bc i made her deal with conflict.

i'm so tired of her ruining our relationship instead of ending her awful marriage, just bc passively (or passive aggressively) hurting me is easier than standing up to him. for years. i'm so angry. i'm so tired.

6 notes · View notes

thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 8

(Y/n)'s POV

I know someone at camp resents Percy and me because one night, I come into the cabin alone and find a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article takes me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I get, the more the words float around on the page.

GIRL, BOY, AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT

By Eileen Smythe

Sally Jackson, son Percy, and daughter (Y/n) are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.

Mother, daughter, and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.

Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past.

Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his sister's and his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson, (Y/n), Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free Crimestoppers hotline.

The phone number is circled in black marker.

I wad up the paper and throw it away, flopping down on my bunk on the far edge of the cabin under the window facing the sea.

I remain silent as Percy walks into the cabin, flopping down onto his bunk as well.

That night, I have the worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down!

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up, sure I'm falling.

I am still in bed in Cabin Three. My body tells me it's morning, but it's dark outside, and thunder rolls over the hills.

A storm is brewing.

I hadn't dreamed that . . .

I hear a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?" Percy asks, sounding uncertain.

Grover trots inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see the two of you."

"Why?" I ask, peeking through the curtain separating mine and Percy's side of the cabin.

'He wants to kill . . . I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, Percy and I get dressed and follow, sure we were in huge trouble.

For days, Percy and I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that we were declared children of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figure it's just a crime for us to be alive. The other gods had probably been debating on the best way to punish us for existing, and now Mr. D is ready to deliver their verdict.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looks like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain is coming in our direction. I ask Grover if we'd need an umbrella.

"No," Grover says. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy points at the storm, 'What the heck is that, then?"

Grover glances uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realize that he's right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm . . .

This one's huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin are playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysius's twins - Castor and Pollux - are walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everyone is going about their normal business, but they look tense; they keep their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Percy, and I walk up the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sits at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sits across the table in his fake wheelchair. They are playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D says without looking up. "Our little celebrities."

I wait.

"Come closer," Mr. D says. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortals, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashes across the clouds; thunder shakes the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus grumbles.

Chiron faints interest in his pinochle cards and Grover cowers by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus says, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron puts in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus says. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D - " Chiron warns.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relents. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rises, and the invisible players' cards drop onto the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you two must do."

Dionysus picks up a playing card, twists it, and it becomes a plastic rectangle. A security pass. He snaps his fingers. The air seems to fold and bend around him. He becomes a hologram, a wind, then he is gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiles at me and Percy, but he looks tired and strained. "Sit, Percy,(Y/n), please. And Grover."

We do.

Chiron lays his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, (Y/n)," he says. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Just hearing the name makes me shudder.

Chiron probably wants me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I don't feel like lying.

"It scared me," I admit. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You two will meet worse. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done?" Percy asks. "With what?"

"You're quest, of course," Chiron says. "Will you accept it?"

I glance at Grover, who is crossing his fingers.

"Sir," I say, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaces. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbles across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I can see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I guess. "They're fighting over something valuable . . . something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchange looks.

Chiron shoots forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover says, his eyes bright.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron orders.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes sparkle with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine," Chiron strokes his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, (Y/n), you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughs, looking nervous, "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warns. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron says, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?" I guess.

"Stolen," Chiron corrects.

"By whom?" I ask though I guessed what he was going to say.

"By you two," Chiron says and Percy's jaw drops.

"At least"—Chiron holds up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon argued. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't - We didn't -" Percy goes to say.

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron says. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you two as his children. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief.

"But we've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron and Grover glance nervously at the sky. The clouds don't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They are rolling straight over the valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy . . . ?" Grover says. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggests. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy.

"The Golden Net?" I guess again. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in it and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler?"

"Correct," Chiron says. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you two have come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But we're just kids!" Percy protests.

"Percy," Grover cuts in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, and that he's father, not one, but two mortal heroes who might be used as a weapon against you . . . Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I - we didn't do anything, Poseidon - our dad - he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Percy asks, and I remain silent in thought.

Chiron sighs. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a fullfledged war would look like, Percy? (Y/n)?"

"Bad?" Percy guesses.

"I'd guess that it would be like nature at war with itself," I say and Chiron nods.

"Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight," Chiron adds to (Y/n)'s statement.

"Bad," Percy repeats.

"And you, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

And then, it starts to rain. Volleyball players stop their game and start in stunned silence at the sky.

We had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of us.

"So we have to find that bolt," I say. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron says, "than to have the son and daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property.

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Percy asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression is grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Percy asks.

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I swallow thickly. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I exchange a glance with Percy, then Grover, who nods encouragingly.

Easy for him, I think. We're the ones Zeus wants to kill.

"All right," Percy says. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron says. "Go upstairs, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

. . .

"Well?" Chiron asks us.

We slump into our chairs at the pinochle table. "She said we would retrieve what was stolen.

Grover sits forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron presses. "This is important."

My ears are still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She said we would go west and face a god who had turned. We would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover says.

Chiron doesn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," Percy says. "That's about it."

He studies Percy's face, then meets my green gaze. "Very well. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I get the feeling he knows we're holding something back, and he's trying to make us feel better.

"Okay," Percy says, looking anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron says."if Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain."

"Someone else who wants to take over?" I guess.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Chiron nods. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbles out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh - what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminds him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but - but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protests. "Especially if he has found out Percy and (Y/n) are children of Poseidon . . ."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continues. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy and (Y/n) to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill these young half-bloods before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I mutter. "That's two major gods who want to kill us."

"But a quest to . . ." Grover swallows. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy and (Y/n) must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

A strange fire burns in my stomach. The weirdest thing is, it isn't fear. It's anticipation. The desire for revenger. Hades had tried to kill me two times so far with the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It is his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he is trying to frame me, my dad, and my brother for a theft we hadn't committed.

Grover is trembling now; he'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy had to complete a quest with me and Percy so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that is, but how can I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said we were destined to fail?" This is a suicide mission.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy tells Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron says. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used," Percy says.

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed you and (Y/n) now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs the two of you."

My dad needs us.

Emotions roll around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I don't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.

3rd Person POV

Percy looks at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said . . . I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

(Y/n) gets the feeling that there is a lot he wasn't telling them about the prophecy, but she decides that she couldn't worry about that at the moment. After all, she and Percy were hiding back information too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy says. "We're supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron says.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

(Y/n) looks over at Grover, who gulps down the ace of hearts.

"But I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asks weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy tells him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh . . ." He shifts his hooves. "No . . . it's just that satyrs and underground places . . . well . . ." He takes a deep breath, then stands, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his t-shirts. "You saved my life, (Y/n), Percy. If . . . if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let the two of you down."

Percy feels so relieved that he wanted to cry, though he didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover is the only friend she'd ever had for longer than a few months. Percy isn't sure what a satyr can do against the forces of the dead but he feels better knowing he'd be with them.

"All the way, G-man," Percy turns to Chiron. "The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looks surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

Percy's POV

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane -"

"No!" Grover shrieks. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me and (Y/n) anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.

"Percy, think," Chiron says. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackles and thunder booms.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, not looking up at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron says. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered if you will accept her help."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Gee," I say, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a suicide quest like this?"

The air shimmers behind Chiron.

Annabeth Chase becomes visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," she says. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks flush. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth is, I do. I need all the help I can get.

"A quartet," I say. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron says. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashes. Rain pours down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron says. "I think you should all get packing."

Word Count: 4018 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

30 notes · View notes

imnotrevealingmyname · 3 years

Text

When A God Gets Lost

Chapter 1

Summary: There are bad ways to travel; then, there are terrible ways to travel. Teleporting to another dimension through the Æther is the latter, apparently. But as the old Bengali adage goes, even tigers will eat grass when they're starving.

Maybe a Midgardian from a different dimension isn't such a bad travel companion after all.

Author's note: This is my submission for the @allaboardthereadingrailroad 's Marvel Diversity Challenge. The OFC is an Indian- a Bengali, more specifically.

Tags: @what-just-happened-bro @is-it-madness @myraiswack @green-valkyrie @teenagereadersciencenerd @ohdearhiddles @whatafuckingdumbass @poetic-fiasco @mrs-wolfhard @your-favourite-skittles @lehuka123 @kellatron55 @shiningloki @latent-thoughts @outlawangel2020 @loki-yoursaviourishere

Warnings: Gore, mild violence, mentions of death.

Loki had known this would come to pass. He had known what he had signed up for, when he'd agreed to accompany Thor to Svartalfheim.

He'd even welcomed his own death.

At the time, the sweet prospect of release had seemed to be a gift from Valhalla.

So he hadn't tried to stop it from happening.

Except, he had.

Blood dripping from his mouth, Loki struggled to let go of strings of seiðr desperately anchoring him to his body.

Dust settled on his mottled blue skin. His ears were ringing, and blacks spots seemed to have been tattooed into his retinas.

If not for the pain, Loki would've laughed at the irony of the situation. Once again, despite all his orchestrations, he was a helpless spectator, strung tight while instincts battled brain.

White hot pain seared his entire body, radiating from the wound to his extremities, as he fought to make the tendrils of seiðr retreat. Unfortunately, it was tied to his genes, bound intricately to the essence of his consciousness. It kept him from slipping into the much anticipated slumber, tightening its hold exponentially.

Numbly, Loki thought of all the times he had heard people talk about life flashing before one's eyes before the final rest settled in.

Loki saw nothing, however. The only thing that passed before his eyes was the dreaded vision of violet sparks of seiðr curling around his own, slowly drawing his life force from him.

The salt of his tears mixed with the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. This helplessness was something he had vowed to never fall into, ever again. But here he lay, defeated yet victorious, in a veritable stream of his own blood, fighting the very instincts that had brought him thus far in life.

Odin, Frigga, Thor… Asgard. They had all taken everything from him, everything he had ever treasured. Self worth, family, his very identity…

Loki had hoped that he could find it in death. Who he really was.

But no, he had been stripped of that luxury, too. Not once, not twice… several times. Twice at his behest, and several times at another's, humiliated and agonized.

Maybe I should stop fighting.

But that wasn't who he was. Loki may not have known who he truly was, but he knew what he wasn't. He had never been one to stop fighting.

But what am I fighting for? Will this right my transgressions? Their transgressions?

Maybe sometimes… to stop fighting was to land the ultimate blow.

Gasping for breath, pain ripping his innards to shreds, he looked down at his midriff. There it was; his seiðr. The only measure of identity he had left. It was flowing from his fingers, from his mouth, weaving between his wounds, holding him together in every sense.

Loki's head fell back as he gave in to it, letting his instincts take over.

He didn't know how much effect his seiðr would have, but seeing as he couldn't do anything about it, apparently…

Unfortunately, he had underestimated the power of his own magicks. Seiðr, in every form, was sentient in its own right. Unbeknownst to Loki, continuous exposure to two infinity stones had affected his own magic in several subtle ways. Seiðr learns from itself and grows- he had learnt this even before he knew how to speak complete sentences.

Never had he thought that magic of such cosmic levels could mingle with his own.

Until he saw a few straggling fragments of the Æther hovering around his limp form.

In its urgency to revive him, his seiðr had drawn the Æther to itself, having turned into something resembling a magnet for cosmic powers.

To his horror, the bloodred fragments of the Æther clustered around him, forming a small tornado of dust and seiðr, swooping in to throw an eerie light over him.

The light only grew in intensity. The pain was lessening- his body was almost completely numb now. Wind howled in his ears, and flashes of green and red blinded him.

Satisfied with its work, his seiðr rose to greet the Æther.

Loki had been completely pinned to the ground. He struggled to look down, and saw that the wound had healed almost all the way through- enough to let him survive.

Immediately, he tried to draw back the seiðr. Enough damage had been done, he didn't need any more adventures.

The seiðr had other ideas, apparently.

Green and red danced together, shimmering and singing a shrill, haunting tune that rattled Loki to the core, producing a stab of pain in his gut.

Oh. His seiðr could only do so much. The spear that had impaled him must've been poisoned…

Which meant that his control over his seiðr was limited, and it knew it.

And thus, it was trying to regain strength by sapping it off the one of the most dangerous entities in all of the Realms.

Unlike normal seiðr, the Æther- as well as the other Infinity Stones- needn't be bound to an individual. They had their own separate existence.

Loki didn't even want to know what might happen if it bound itself to him.

Unfortunately, the velocity of the mingling magicks was growing, forming a pitch black void above him.

Fuck.

A sound of surprise and shock was the last thing that left his mouth before he was sucked into the vortex.

A deep rumble ran through the entirety of Svartalfheim when the dust settled- almost as though the Realm heaved a sigh of relief.

----

Aakshya's head hurt. Half an hour on the Arambagh local train with two three year olds bawling their lungs out less than two metres away could do that to anyone.

The last few days weighed down on her. It was all so surreal. Her last living relative- the last one she had been on good terms with, anyway- was gone.

Aakshya sighed softly, adjusting her glasses as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them away. It wasn't surprising, not really. Her great aunt had been quite aged, but losing her was still a blow she wasn't quite prepared to deal with.

At least here, she could mourn in peace.

The Chandur forest had always been her happy place. After very long weeks at work, she had a habit of spending the weekend in a small resort here, sometimes. It was just quiet enough to help her recuperate.

The resort was still half an hour away. She decided to take her time today.

The sky was darkening, and she could see the moon through the spaces between the canopies of the trees.

The moon seemed larger today. Or maybe that was just the tears in her eyes.

She sped up a little, a prickly feeling spreading over her nape.

Were the trees rustling a bit more than usual? No, that must've been the wind… right?

Aakshya stopped dead in her tracks, clutching her bag tightly.

To her right, someone stumbled in the dark, groaning deeply and uttering a string of incoherent words in a language she couldn't recognize.

Maybe it was just the owner of the resort... Though why would she be here? Wouldn't she be at the resort itself?

"Sukanya Di, tumi?"she called out timidly. "Tumi ekhane ki korcho?" Is that you, Sukanya? What are you doing here?

She whipped around, frightened.

The sight that greeted her eyes was unnerving.

A blue-skinned, armour-clad man, covered in blood, was half sprawled on the ground, chest heaving as he struggled to rise.

The weirdest thing was that he was surrounded by red and green light that seemed to be trying to enter his body.

Aakshya stumbled backwards- but then she yelped when the man's hand shot forward and grabbed her upper arm, preventing her from fleeing.

"What is this place?"he rasped, using her as support to pull himself up to full height. Aakshya's eyes widened- he was over a foot taller than her, and he seemed to have been impaled clean through his chest.

Judging from the blood, the wound was fresh; but it was already closing in front of her eyes.

What in the world-

"I asked you something, mortal,"he snapped, shaking her a little. It affected his balance, apparently, because he swayed dangerously, catching himself by steadying himself against a nearby tree.

"Are you- is this some kind of a prank?"she squeaked, trying to pry his fingers off of her.

The man growled, and then coughed up a little more blood. "Answer the bloody question, girl."

"Earth, we're on Earth,"Aakshya managed, now fighting to get out of his hold. "Unhand me, you-"

If the fact that a man who had been impaled quite recently was stronger than her was a matter of concern, it didn't strike her then, as she attempted to scratch and bite him. The man merely grunted in annoyance, retaliating by giving her another shake.

"You're lying,"he snarled. "This cannot be Midgard."

"I don't know what's going on, but-"

"Unless… no…" He seemed to be speaking to himself now, though his scarlet eyes were on her.

It was completely dark now, and Aakshya was in the hold of some creep in a forest.

Well, I'm fucked.

----

Loki couldn't believe how bad his luck was. His chest stung with every laboured breath, and the Æther was still swirling around him, and now he had been transported to a different dimension.

He could feel it.

Which meant…

There were two of him in this dimension alone.

Oh, fuck.

Meanwhile, the girl was still trying to free herself from his grasp.

Loki gave her a crooked grin. "Looks like you're stuck with me now."

She gave him a look of outrage. "No, I-"

"What's your name?"

She seemed to quell under his gaze. "Aakshya."

"Pretty name. I'm Loki, God of Mischief and Father of Magick."

Aakshya scowled, trying to hit him. "Look, if this is some weird cosplay thing, I'm really not in the mood-"

Loki sighed, using the dredges of his seiðr to still her. "Girl, I've been impaled with a poison tipped spear and thrown into a different dimension, so I'm not in the mood for your tantrums."

Her eyes bulged with rage and she tried in vain to bite him.

"How about you and I go on a nice little walk, hmm? I can sense your loneliness and heartache, girl. I am very perceptive,"Loki said with a small smirk. "I can help you, if you help me. What say you?"

"I say you're a dangerous, senile man who's a bit too obsessed with mythology,"Aakshya spat, struggling to move.

Loki laughed softly. "Oh, but a little danger never hurt."

#loki #imnotrevealingmyname #loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki smut #fanfic #fanfiction #tw death #gore #blood #fix it fic #marveldiversitychallenge

75 notes · View notes

shewhowillnotbenamed1 · 4 years

Text

Synergy - Part 2

Part 1

This is Part 2 of the first DamiRae I ever wrote... And it is long overdue. @ravenfan1242 Happy belated birthday!!!

Prompt List

---------

Figures.

A dark brow flew up as Damian motioned for Raven to board the plane ahead of him. Therein lay another poorly packaged excuse to check out her ass or legs. She had already caught him tonight.

Twice.

Ignoring a prickle of panic, the heels teetered her up the stairs. But moments later, the blinds drew up around a pale face at the window. Narrowed blue-violets scanned the tarmac, observing the animated conversation in Arabic. After he finished up with the attendants, long legs lifted him onto the jet with an irritating amount of ease.

Instead of taking a seat, Damian excused himself to prattle on some more. This time with the pilot.

A slew of impatient texts rapidly fired off to Beatrice. As more time was allotted to Damian, Raven increasingly relied upon her assistant. Since the initial meeting, they'd had over a handful of dinners. Accounting for flights and travel time, she'd probably been with him in the last month more than she had anyone.

As she typed, she glanced down at her blue-black nails with concern. Another side effect of breaking out of usual patterns - a lot of time between nail appointments. Although her veneer was overall impeccable, there was but the slightest crack breaking through to the surface.

An alabaster neck craned subtly in the direction he had disappeared to. She wasn't eager for his return or anything trite like all that.

But really, where was he?

He was certainly taking a while.

Did he think his time was more valuable than her own? They had barely discussed work when they were together. So what was to be accomplished between them, really? What was Damian trying to do - actually get close to her?

Suddenly, the familiar shuffle of Brioni loafers left her to ponder these deceitful thoughts no longer.

Finally.

Raven gave his olive-green sweater and black trousers a once-over. The hue managed to contrast with his dark skin in a distracting way, while simultaneously bringing out the color of his eyes, an arresting vert.

It was undeniable and utterly unfair for someone so aggravating to look like that.

Stupid, sexy Damian...

"Wayne. Thanks for dinner. You do have great taste." Raven noted. "I was skeptical about the use of your plane to take me to a ranch in Montana, but it was the best burger I've ever had..."

A hardened jaw slackened at her assessment. "Glad it was up to your standards, Roth."

"So far." Raven backtracked. "The best burger I've had so far." She couldn't concede completely.

"Tch..." He clicked his tongue in the way he did. "Next time, we'll swing by the coast and maybe get some ceviche..." Damian began, telling her what her future plans would be with an air that stunned and excited her. And he sat beside her, all the while moving closer to her, her hand laying on her cheek. "Or we'll do a weekend trip. Get some poke at this little stand on the side of the road in Hawaii -"

"Wait..." Raven held up a hand, recoiling slightly. Her indigo eyes flashed. "Damian?"

Damian let out a humorless laugh. "Is something wrong? Is it the fish? We have had sushi twice."

"No, not wrong...exactly." The pale girl worried the rose-colored skin of her lip.

"Alright, then." With that, Damian leaned back in his seat.

"What are you doing?" The man turned to her as if she was crazy.

"I thought I was having a good evening." His jaw was no longer loose, it tensed. Twitched. "What is it now, Roth? Do you have a problem? Or an itch?"

That patronizing attitude only confirmed her need to keep their distance.

"Just one." A pale finger gestured to the top of the sleek, white leather and polished cherry wood cabin. "Why are you sitting so close to me?"

His lips pressed into a hard line. "It's my plane. I'll sit where I want." Damian said definitively, offering no other explanation.

He was so irritating in that way.

"It's a large enough plane to comfortably seat twenty - at least." Raven tried. "Surely you can sit somewhere else besides next to me?"

The deep voice was barely inflected and unwavering. "I want to sit here."

"Your legs are longer than mine - that one has more leg room." Raven pointed across the aisle. "And you'd have the adjacent seat for even more room."

"Hmm. Still, no. I'm sitting here." The calloused hand tapped the arm of the seat, slowly, one thick finger at a time.

Raven gritted her teeth. "Damian, please."

"Make me."

"Make you?" Raven blinked rapidly.

She could barely believe the words she was hearing him speak aloud.

"Yes." The white teeth sparkled brilliantly against his deep skin. "If you want me to move so badly, why don't you make me?"

"Oh, I see." Raven smirked. "Are you finally making the change from a man-child to an actual child?" She retorted with her arms folded. "Long overdue, if you ask me."

"Yes, Raven," Damian echoed. His tone grew steadily more self-righteous. "I'm a child. And this child can sit anywhere he wants on his "PJ"."

"No. I am not going to stand for this." There were some things that were inexcusable. And this was one of them. "I know it's yours, but please - never call it that again. It's a private jet. It is not a PJ -"

Damian continued his tirade, as if she hadn't spoken. "And this child wanted his apartment, but of course you had to have your way there, as well."

Here we go.

Was this whole maneuver some ploy to seek petty revenge? "Fine." Raven retorted. "You like your planes and your cars, but Damian: Why won't you just find another apartment?"

"I'll have you know, I do have other things I desire - things that are not solely materialistic." Damian appraised her openly and received a series of smoldering embers. "And for the record, I have found a place..."

"Well, good." Raven mumbled. "That's great..." She tried again, but she was overtaken by an odd sense of loss. "Really great." The apartment was a source of guaranteed discord between them; it was something they bickered about consistently. And though she was happy for him, they had built up a rapport on top of this (supposed) slight. What would become of their banter without a collective source of contention? "Was yours also your first?"

"My first...?" He curiously searched her. "The first apartment I bought on my own - yeah." With the lessening of crackling static, the air in the cabin had begun to shift.

"Congratulations..." Raven offered. "Our firsts, they're always milestones..." And she swallowed. "So, I guess we can move on."

Damian repeated wistfully, "you want to move on from this?"

"Yes." The pale girl exhaled, relaxing her posture a fraction. "You lost the place you wanted initially, but maybe this one will be better?" She flicked the arm of his seat coyly. And Raven couldn't resist the compulsion to get one last dig at Damian. "Though, I doubt it." She hissed. "Second. Place."

"There." Damian growled, as if she had proved his point. "It's because of that..." He paused. "You say you want to move on, but you don't." Then he sighed, carving a rough hand harshly through his hair. "I - want so badly to like you, Roth. But, you just can't resist pushing my buttons. And gloating."

"I don't gloat, I'm confident." Raven spat. "And confidence comes from knowledge and experience, not arrogance." She was a CEO after all.

"Alright, bravado is good in business..." Damian licked his lips. "But, does that over-inflated ego satisfy you at the end of the night when you're alone in your office?"

Her dark bob shook at the lecherous undertone. "What are you getting at, Wayne -"

"You alone in your office, Roth..." His voice, it had gone dark and decadent. "Sliding off your Jimmy Choos under your desk and sinking back into your chair... To slip a hand up your thighs under one of your tight pencil skirts..." An angry flush was rising on a pale face. But her body warmed at his words, as it, like her eyes, found Damian a pleasurable point. And it too betrayed her. "Or how about in bed? I bet when you finally lay yourself down on top of those thousand thread count sheets, it's just you and your bloated ego. Does it manage to keep you warm at night?"

"Actually, yes. It does. But, thank you once again for your overly-invested concern." It was true about her ego. But if it ever didn't, she had a steady rotation of men to do it for her. "If you think you're going to shock me, you can't." She deadpanned. "Think about me alone, quite a bit, Damian?"

"You didn't answer my question..." The beautiful smile was cruel. "Raven, I'm not talking about the... uh, toys you've collected to keep you warm. I mean, have you ever had a real relationship?"

"Are you prying to prove a point?" Raven raised a brow. "In case you were asking "for a friend", you should know that, I have."

"I find that hard to believe." Damian scoffed.

As if.

"I think you're... projecting." Her heartbeat surged as she countered. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"There's that misdirected overconfidence making you assume things again."

"Misdirected? No, I think... you've never been in a relationship." Damian glared, she could even see his nostrils flare. "No... I know you haven't. You wanted to find out if I had been though... You've also mentioned, what did you call them... my toys - several times before now. So the question is why?"

"It's not as a big deal as you're making it." He rolled his eyes and settled back into his plush seat, facing away from her. "You're delusional."

Damian wanted to end this; he knew he was going to lose. But Raven was not going to end this. Not yet. She faced him. "So you're obsessed with my love life? I think I know why."

"I'm not doing this with you," He growled. With a click his seat belt came undone. "You're off base, Roth. You're not as perceptive as you think." Damian motioned to his temple.

Raven realized faintly that she did indeed "make him". But she no longer cared about that.

No. This had become so much more.

"I'm every bit as perceptive as I think I am." Pale hands unbuckled her own seat belt and inched closer. Damian started to rise, pulling out his phone, suddenly finding it fascinating.

"Sit down, Damian." Raven forced him back down into the white leather, and his phone clattered to the ground. Damian probably could have overpowered her, but he allowed it, just like she knew he would. "You wanted to sit here, this plane is your real estate, so don't change seats on my account. I'll accommodate you."

"You're - crazy." Wide emeralds darted around madly.

"Yes, I am." She leaned on either side of his arm rests. Raven had caged him in. "You knew that already. And yet you keep inviting me out."

"What are you doing?"

"Proving my point." She gripped his hair in a fist. As his cool façade cracked. The faintest hint of pink rose up his cheeks, as he glared at the floor. Damian refused to meet her eyes, but she wanted to see it. The seconds leading up to the break, when he gave in to her. Raven pulled his hair back with a devious, self-satisfied smirk, forcing him to look up.

In what was so obviously a last ditch effort to keep his pride, he growled, "Roth, I'm warning you. If you don't get your highfalutin manicured talons off me -"

"You'll what, Wayne?" His Adam's apple dipped down again. Damian was all bark and no bite when it came to her.

They both knew that.

"Do it, Raven. By all means, test me..." Underneath, she could hear a faint plea masked by his harshness.

"I bet you'd like it if I did." And Raven knew he longed to see what she was up to.

Raven concentrated on the widening stare of deep jade, finding herself transfixed. That unique shade, so much darker and more dangerous than dollars. Damian's dollar bills... She could recall to mind a certain photo shoot. But in her mind, it was decidedly less philanthropic.

Damian Wayne. Hard and sculpted under taut, rich caramel. Supine and outstretched. Enticing with nothing but dollars sliding down his decency. Down and down they fell... Raven licked her lips, feeling famished after that huge meal. But in a way that was more carnal.

"What the hell are you staring at anyway?"

84 notes · View notes

luccislegs · 5 years

Note

Lol I'm glad to be of help! I'm looking forward to the requests you get published. You probably don't write for Law, so I should ask for Zoro in that case. Could I please have a scenario for Zoro with a reader who's a brilliant actor/imitator but they're v shy? They want to be helpful aboard the ship and have a big crush on him, but they end up getting flustered whenever he come near. If I can add, a significant height difference would be cute lol.

sorry it took me so long to answer this lol i was hella partying this weekend and i’m pretty sure there’s still alcohol in me even a week later

anyway, my first ask! also thank you again for letting me know my asks were turned off, you rock!

–

A sigh escaped your lips for what seemed like the hundredth time that day as you watched Zoro train down on the main deck. You, on the other hand, were hidden away in Nami’s tangerine grove, scribbling away at a new musical composition piece. Or you were supposed to be, anyway. It seemed like every few seconds your concentration was stolen by the aforementioned swordsman.

“Hey, _____! Whatcha doin’?” Luffy shouted from behind you. You had been in the middle of writing and he scared you so badly that now there was a large score down the page. Some of it was ripped now as well, ruining the work.

You sighed, staring forlornly at the destroyed paper. It had taken you ages to finally work up the motivation to write, and just like that it had gone wrong. You turned to look at your captain, saying, “Nothing, Luffy. Just writing some new music.”

“Huh,” he said, staring down at the sheet music. “It looked like you were staring at Zoro more, _____.” A large, mischievous grin spread across his face as he locked eyes with the other man, who turned an even brighter shade of red than he already was.

You missed the exchange entirely as your eyes were locked on your paper in horror. Could he have said it any louder? Embarrassment and fear flooded through you and you barely glanced up at Zoro, just enough to gauge his reaction to Luffy’s words, but he wasn’t looking at you. In fact, he was no where to be seen anymore.

It was a few hours later when you finally felt the courage to show your face on deck again. You had initially decided that you were just going to hide out in your room for a few days, but you had managed a complete rough draft of your composition and wanted Brook to play it out, so you could hear what needed to be fixed.

Plus, you were starving.

The sounds of the others filtered out of the kitchen, typical in that you could hear Luffy and Usopp above all the others, but it was comforting because it was familiar.

The door creaked open and a chorus of greetings to you filled the room, and you flushed slightly. Waving back, you sat down in an open seat, and your eyes made a sweep of the room, looking for familiar green.

“Zoro isn’t here,” Luffy said around a huge mouthful of meat. He struggled to swallow it for a moment; you could see the way his throat expanded to accommodate what was surely too much food. “He’s sleeping in the crow’s nest.”

Your cheeks really turned red at that, and you couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, but you heard the tell-tale sounds of Nami knocking him upside the head.

He whined and rubbed the back of his head, frowning at her. “What was that for? She was looking for him, right? She likes him, so I figured I’d tell her!”

“Luffy, you idiot,” Nami said with a huff. She looked like she was going to hit him again, her fist raised in a threatening manner. “You aren’t supposed to point it out. They need to figure it out for themselves.”

“Well, they’re taking too long!” he whined, holding his hands up to defend himself. He looked around at you then. “_____, why don’t you just tell him?”

You couldn’t help but give him an incredulous look as you sputtered out half-formed excuses. Finally, you took a deep breath and calmed yourself, managing to say through grit teeth, “It isn’t that easy, Luffy. I’m not sure he feels the same.”

“You should just ask him then!” He was so naive it would be cute, if it wasn’t so embarrassing.You rolled your eyes as Nami continued to yell, with Sanji joining in after a moment. Things settled down after that, returning to normal levels of noise which, with your crew, were still extremely loud.

“Does anyone know where Brook is?” you asked when everyone was finished eating. “I want him to play this new piece for me.”

“I think he was talking about practicing on deck,” Robin piped up. She had been so quiet all night you had forgotten she was there, but as soon as she spoke, Sanji was swooning.

That signaled you that it was time to book it– whenever he got like that, you knew it was only a matter of time before he took turns around the room.

The cool air and quiet were a welcome relief from the stifling noisiness of the kitchen. Off towards the front of the boat came the faint sounds of guitar. Brook was just starting out on the instrument, and so the music wasn’t as smooth as it was when he played the violin or the piano. But he seemed to be picking it up quickly and, if he kept it up, it would give you yet another instrument to write music for in no time.

“Hello, _____. What can I do for you?” Brook’s voice broke through your stupor.

You hadn’t even realized you had made it to him, and you gave him an embarrassed smile. “I have a new piece I was hoping you would play for me. I’m sure there are kinks. But it’s for the violin this time.”

You put the paper into his expectant hand and waited as he scanned over it, bouncing back and forth on your feet.

“This will sound marvelous when it’s done, _____!” he said at last. “I’m going to get my violin right now so you can finish it up as soon as possible!”

You flushed at his praise. Although he said that about all of your work, it was still nice to hear. Sometimes you wondered what the point of you being on the boat was, and having that little bit of reassurance was nice. Besides, most of the music Brook was playing here lately were pieces you had created.

Footsteps sounded behind you, but they lacked the usual creaking that accompanied Brook when he walked. You nearly had a heart attack when you turned to look and found Zoro standing behind you. You could feel the heat flood your cheeks, and prayed it was dark enough that he couldn’t see. On the other hand, he was fully displayed in the moonlight and you could see that he was as red as you likely were.

“Uh, hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Could we talk?”

Your heart, which had already been beating harder than was normal just by being in his presence, almost exploded in your chest. You could feel it thundering away behind your ribs so hard you felt a little lightheaded for a moment.

“U-Um…sure?” you said, and cursed yourself for being so shy. It was hard enough having a crush on someone, let alone someone like him, but the whole thing was compounded by the fact that you could barely talk to him like a normal person.

“Sorry about earlier. Luffy can be a bit a of an idiot,” he said. He smirked a little when he heard you giggle.

You had to steel yourself for your next words, because you weren’t sure if you were bringing up something that you didn’t really need to, but you couldn’t keep a lid on it without feeling uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about…about earlier. I hope I-I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

His posture changed, you could see tension come into his shoulders and for a moment you thought it had backfired. But his next words made you feel like you would burst into flames.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t getting much training done anyway. Someone was up in the tangerines distracting me.” He wasn’t looking at you, and his hand was fidgeting with the swords attached to his hips.

You were a fool if you thought you couldn’t turn any more red. You would swear that you were going to be permanently stained, Sanji could use you as a tomato in his next meal. “W-Well…um…”

Words were escaping you, and it was just a relief that he didn’t find you weird because of Luffy.

“Brook is coming back,” Zoro said suddenly, shifting to look over his shoulder. You couldn’t hear anything, but trusted his word. “The next island is coming up in a few days. Do you want to go into town with me?”

You giggled again, giddy at the fact that Zoro had just asked you on a date, and nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

He smiled and lifted his hand, setting it on your head gently. Then it was sliding off and he was walking away, just as Brook came back into view.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got, _____. _____?”

–

this was unbelievably harder than i had initially thought it would be. i had to change the actor/imitator detail bc i absolutely could not figure out a way to incorporate that into any of the ideas i had, at least not without it getting severely out of hand, so I hope that wasn’t an extremely important detail. if it is, just let me know and i can whip something else up, but it’ll probably be way more involved and stupid long.

on the other hand, i do hope you like this!

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece scenarios

70 notes · View notes