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marvelsswansong · 2 years

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total mystery

summary: The new mystery on the block isn’t a new supernatural entity or government scientists. But rather the fact that somehow, the preppy, popular, cheer co-captain and class president of Hawkins High is dating Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson: repeat senior and leader of the Hellfire Club.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, everyone at Hawkins High (1) simps for you and (2) cannot believe their eyes and ears lol, pure fluff, typical opposites attract romance, Steve and Robin banter, Jason slander, humor, one OC named Carl, Eddie just being really goddamn in love to the point it's sickening

☆ word count: 3.8K+ ☆

a/n: the chokehold this man has over all of us... I get it now. Also I changed some stuff from the show to fit the story so please overlook any discrepancies!!! also i feel like i wrote too many kisses i'm sorry if that's annoying haha

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

“Did you hear?” Robin doesn’t even bother to greet Steve, seemingly out of breath and frazzled as she slides behind the counter of Family Video. Raising his eyebrow in confusion, Steve frowns and shakes his head sideways.

“Hear what?”

Robin grins mischeviously, looking side to side before leaning over to whisper.

“Apparently, (Y/n) (L/n) is dating Eddie Munson.”

Steve almost chokes on the can of diet coke he’s drinking, the carbonated liquid burning his throat as he coughs repeatedly to catch his breath. Robin looks way too amused for her own good, simply swinging her legs off of the counter as she adjusts her name tag onto her shirt. He has no idea how she can be so casual about it all, when Steve's eyes are almost bugging out of their sockets.

“THE (Y/n)? Like, co-captain of the cheer team, student president for two years in a row, only wears dresses and skirts to school every day (Y/n)?”

Robins rolls her eyes at her best friend’s dramatic reaction.

“Obviously. Do you know any other girls at Hawkins High with her exact name?”

Steve was suddenly grateful that today was a slow day - there was an eldery couple at the back looking through the historical fiction section and a young son and his mother lazily flicking through the new arrivals section, but otherwise the store was quite empty. Giving him a perfect excuse to press Robin for more information on this salacious rumor.

“Where did you even hear this?"

Robin shrugs, sliding off the counter to begin sorting through the cash register.

“Had to take a bus here and a group of juniors happened to be sitting in front of me. It’s all they could talk about for the entire twenty minute ride.”

Steve suppresses an eye roll at her response, turning sideways to glare at the busy brunette.

“Oh come on, then you CAN’T take the rumor seriously. People gossip all the time at Hawkins High! Most likely, someone saw them interacting in a very innocent manner - like running into each other in the hallway - and spun a romantic story out of it to fill their boredom.”

Robin clicks her tongue, shrugging her shoulders once more before closing the register and looking up at him with a sigh.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Steve. It’s just what I heard. And…” she pauses, chuckling. “In a weird way, I can kind of see it happening.”

“You’re completely out of your mind, Buckley.” Steve counters, confident that she's wrong.

“Yeah? How much you willing to bet for it?” Robin has a gut feeling that she’s right, and she’ll never pass up a chance to (a) prove Steve Harrington wrong and (b) make some money from it. Luckily, Steve seems to take the bait, straightening up at her proposal.

“Please, I’m confident enough to bet you $20 out the gate.”

“$20?! You’re-”

Then as fate would have it, the front door swings open and you enter the store, your white tweed jacket and matching skirt a sore contrast to the bright blue and red neon color palette of the store. Clutching a small leather handbag over your left shoulder, you seem a bit lost on where to start, before you make your way over to the new arrivals section. Steve hasn’t really seen you since his graduation a year ago - he was always aware of you, and the two of you did share some mutual friends - but he’d never really taken the time to get to know you.

But now, staring at you from the counter, Steven wishes he had made the effort to at least befriend you. He's watching in awe as your perfectly manicured nails tap alongside the cover of a random action movie, your bright eyes squinting at the title before turning it over to examine another tape. The neon glow from the signs above seem to illuminate your face perfectly, exposing your soft blush and sticky lipgloss, your lips parting ever so slightly to sound out the movie titles.

“Oy.” Robin then elbows him on the side, causing Steve to wince in mock pain. “Stop ogling at her. I know she’s hot, but she’s taken, remember?”

Steve glares at her response, before rolling up his sleeves and stretching his neck.

“Yeah right. Anyways. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help our new… customer.”

Robin attempts to stop him but now there’s a line of previous customers at the checkout counter, effectively pinning her to behind the cash register. But then she spots Eddie’s van pull up in the parking lot outside, and suddenly that didn't seem so bad. Oh, this was going to be so interesting for her to watch.

You’re stuck trying to decide between two movies - Footloose and Sixteen Candles - when Steve casually strolls up next to you, flipping on his boyish charm. You sense someone else’s presence behind you and turn around to see Steve Harrington, pointing at the two selections you’re holding with a smile on his face.

“They’re both really good picks, but I prefer Footloose. It’s the perfect mix of comedy and drama. Plus you can’t go wrong with Kevin Bacon dancing to rock music in a town where it’s illegal.”

His comment makes you giggle - a light, melodic sound that makes Steve's whole body buzz with warmth.

“Thanks, Steve. Good to see you here, I haven’t seen you around since-”

“Since graduation, yeah. You’re almost there too, huh?” he teases, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Oh yeah, senior year and all! I can’t believe my four years are coming to an end. It feels like just yesterday that I was a freshman, starting out in Hawkins as the new kid with zero friends. I’m so glad I’m not a freshman anymore.” you laugh nervously.

“I’m glad you’re not a freshman anymore, either.” Steve offers, stepping closer to you.

“Why’s that?” you hum, amused. Steve's grin widens as he prepares his next sentence.

“Cause now that you’re no longer a freshman, I can ask you-”

But Steve doesn't get to finish his sentence when two strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist, accompanied by a voice whispering “boo” into your ears. You jump at the sudden contact and noise, before realization dawns on you and you turn around to face Eddie, a semi-frown etched on your face.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack.” you smack him in the chest with your bag lightly, causing him to double over in laughter.

“I’m sorry, princess. But you’re just too fun to tease.”

Princess.

Steve’s blood runs ice cold at the nickname, as his eyes do a double take at the sight of you two together. His gaze follows as Eddie wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you right up against him as the metalhead takes out one of the movies from your hands and inspects it in the light.

“Sixteen Candles, huh? I know I said you could pick the movie this time but you’re really killing me with these choices, angel.”

“Oh actually, Steve recommended Footloose so I think we should rent that one!” you excitedly respond, linking your fingers with his.

“Sounds good to me. Can we check this one out?” Eddie asks politely, as Steve blinks wordlessly for a few moments. He’s shell shocked, embarrassed and confused as he forces himself to nod, trodding up to the counter and practically shoving Robin to the side to scan the damn VHS.

“Hi Robin!” you greet the girl at the counter with a wide smile, as her eyes light up.

“You know who I am?”

“Of course I do! One of my big campaigns last year was to increase the budget for our school’s band. You're amazing, by the way."

The two of you engage in light dialogue, but it all falls on deaf ears for Steve. Quickly completing the transaction and giving Eddie a forced grin, he watches as Eddie links his fingers with yours again, walking you away from the counter.

“Oh, wait!” you pause in your tracks, turning around to look at Steve. “Steve, you wanted to ask me something?”

The silence in the store is almost painful, with you looking at Steve with such innocence and wonder, Robin (badly) stifling her laugh behind Steve, and Steve’s ears going pink with embarrassment.

“No, it’s uh, it’s nothing! It was about student government but I can just ask someone else in the committee.”

You frown at his response, concerned.

“Are you sure? You can ask me right now!”

God, Steve wishes there was a hole he could dive under right now because the embarrassment is becoming almost unbearable.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

You give him another dazzling smile, bidding him and Robin goodbye, before the door closes behind you and Eddie, your laughter ringing in Steve's ears as Eddie impatiently pulls you towards his car. Steve can basically feel Robin’s gaze burning into his back as he turns around, dejected and mortified. Robin opens her mouth to tease him, but Steve quickly holds his hand up to stop his best friend from speaking.

“I know, I know. That was pathetic.”

“And I was right.” Robin smugly adds. “About (Y/n) and Eddie.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Robin lets a few moments of silence pass before she pokes him on the side.

“So, about the $20….”

-------------------------------

“The two of them together? No fucking way.” Jason put out the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth as he leanged against the metal railings of the Starcourt Mall, glaring at his teammate, Carl, who had just said that he had seen you and Eddie making out behind the bleachers last Friday. “(Y/n) is like, one of the hottest girls in school. Why the hell would she settle for a freak like him?”

“Beats me, man. Maybe it was just a one time thing?” Carl weakly offers, shrugging his shoulders. Jason doesn’t seem very satisfied at his friend’s answer, craning his neck and looking over the side of the railings. The mall is as busy as it gets on a Saturday like today, with families, couples and friend groups pushing against each other from store to store.

“I’ll see it when I believe it.” Jason puffs out his chest in annoyance, his tone laced with a twinge of anger and animosity that intrigues Carl.

“You have something against her or something?”

As soon as the question leaves Carl’s mouth, he remembers - last week’s party, by Chrissy’s pool house. Jason had strolled up to you with a drink in hand before asking you out, which you had flat out declined in front of basically the whole basketball team. It seemed as if the memory is also suddenly in Jason’s mind as the blonde rolls his eyes and shoves past his friend, swearing under his breath.

“You know damn well I don’t. Just shut the fuck up, okay? Let's just get some food."

His tone is decisive and Carl knows better than to push the blonde's temper any further.

“Sure.”

The two of them don’t speak whilst walking towards the food court, the distant sound of muffled conversations and music from stores filling the air. Jason is taking his time to look around, comparing his options, when he hears your unmistakable laughter from the end of the hall. He tears his gaze away from the booth, only to see you perched on Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson’s lap, feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream as his ring clad fingers brush against your exposed knees.

The sight makes the jock feel sick with anger and jealousy, and suddenly he’s glad that the mall is bustling with people. Through the crowds and crowds of strangers, the two of you seem blissfully unaware of the star basketball player’s envious gaze, too caught up in each other’s presence to notice anything else but each other. Then you kiss Eddie’s cheek, whispering something in his ears before leaving the ice cream cup in his hands to walk off somewhere.

Ignoring Carl’s protests to just “leave them alone”, Jason finds himself strolling up to his enemy, Jason's steps forceful and hurried. Eddie’s smile falters ever so slightly when he looks up at who’s suddenly standing in front of him, before an amused smirk appears on his face.

“Jason. What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor, my good sir?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm and more than ever, Jason wants to smack the damn expression off of his face.

“Cut the shit, Munson. What the fuck are you doing with (Y/n)?” Jason aggressively questions.

“I was kissing her, duh.” Eddie responds as a matter-of-factedly, enjoying being able to tease the jock. It’s not often that Eddie has the true upper hand, actual power over someone like Jason - so he’s relishing in it now, watching the basketball player’s confident facade crumble like chalk as his chest heaves in angry breaths.

“I know that, jackass. I’m asking what the fuck you’re doing kissing HER.” the blonde presses, but Eddie simply leans back against the table nonchalantly, totally unbothered.

“She’s my girlfriend, buddy. What else would we be doing? Because if you’re worried that's all we do-” Eddie pauses, before leaning forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “No need. We do a lot more, if you get what I mean.”

Jason’s hands flare upwards to land a punch on Eddie's face but Carl beats the blonde to it, wrapping a hand on Jason’s wrist and tugging his friend backwards.

“He’s not worth it, dude. Besides, your mom said you’d be grounded if you got arrested for assault one more time.”

Jason stares straightforward at Eddie Munson with nothing but hatred in his heart, whilst the metalhead looks proud and relaxed, amused at how everything has played out. Shoving his teammate off, Jason straightens up, brushing his varsity jacket sleeves with his hands before pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

“This is far from over, Munson.”

“Cool.”

Eddie’s more than aware that Jason is still staring at the two of you from across the dining hall, ignoring Carl’s attempts at conversation, and it’s what propels Eddie to do what he does when you return from the bathroom.

“I’m back!” you sing, sitting back down onto Eddie’s lap. You notice that Eddie's expression is now different, still sweet but something a bit sinister in his eyes, and it makes you tilt your head in confusion. “Anything happen while I’m gone?”

Eddie looks at your face, brushing your cheeks with his left hand, whilst his right hand rests on your upper thigh. He thanks whatever gods are up there that you’ve chosen to wear his favorite black dress today, cinched in at the waist with a belt, the fabric soft and the length just above your knees. Placing the ice cream to the side, he brings your face down for a hungry kiss, the taste of chocolate and raspberry still lingering on your lips. The knowledge that the smug blonde asshole - Jason Carver - is watching with seething jealousy across the hall makes it all the more satisfying when you eagerly return the kiss, Eddie’s left hand raising to pull you in closer by your neck.

After a few heated moments Eddie leans back and you let out a few breaths, frazzled and dazed at your boyfriend’s sudden affection.

“I’m definitely not complaining but… what was that for, Eds?”

Eddie decides not to give Jason the satisfaction of looking over at him, instead opting to lace his fingers with yours and gaze at you lovingly.

“Can’t I just kiss my beautiful girlfriend because I want to?”

-------------------------------

“And now, we have entered into the mystical lands of fa- Hello? Are any of you listening?” Eddie waves a hand in front of the freshmen boys' faces, noticing that their minds seem to be somewhere else. They sit there, unmoving, before Mike whispers something to Lucas, who in turn elbows Dustin.

“Right. Uh, we have a question for you. That's non D&D related.” he awkwardly starts to ask, causing Eddie to sigh.

“We’re in the middle of a campaign.” Eddie pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We know, we know, but it’s important.” Dustin insists, and Eddie can’t help but comply: he does have a soft spot for these kids, after all.

“Alright then.” Eddie sits himself down on a spare plastic chair facing the kids. “What is it?”

A moment of silence passes before Dustin blurts out the question that's been plaguging his and his friends' minds for the past few days.

“Can you give us tips on how to pick up girls?”

The question makes Eddie laugh, his head thrown backwards as a loud laugh rips through his throat, before his smile is wiped off by the serious looks on the kids’ faces.

“Oh, you’re being serious? Seriously? Why the hell would you ask me of all people that?”

“Because we heard-” Mike starts, only to be shot a warning glare by Lucas that makes him shut up. That catches Eddie’s attention, pointing the end of his ruler to Mike.

“No. What is it? Speak.”

“We heard that you’re dating (Y/n). Like, cheer co-captain and class president (Y/n).”

The mention of your name makes his heart warm and it’s hard to fight off the smile from rising onto his face.

“You heard right, Wheeler.”

The boys’ eyes light up at the admission before they all start speaking at once, clearly excited.

“Wait, really? I thought it was just Hawkins gossip.” “I knew it! I called it beforehand, honestly.” “So that’s why we want to know how you did it!”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Eddie shakes his head sideways at the freshmen boys’ antics.

“Look kiddos, I’m flattered that you’d want my advice on dating but I really don’t have much to tell you.”

Lucas groans at that.

“Oh, come on! There has to be something you said or did to land a girlfriend like (Y/n)! Tell us, please?”

The conversation is then interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door, before the door swings open to reveal you smiling sheepishly behind it. On your left hand you’re holding what looks to be Eddie’s beloved roleplaying notebook as you walk over and kiss Eddie on the cheek. You quickly realize that you’ve walked in on a fully active campaign, turning to look at three young freshman boys practically gawking at the sight of you being affectionate with Eddie.

“Oh. Hi there. I’m-”

“(Y/n) (L/n).” Dustin finishes for you, and you laugh. Eddie squints his eyes at the boys, clearly noticing the infatuation glazing over their eyes. It makes him pull you down onto his lap, resting his head on your shoulder as you laugh - you know that’s code for ‘I’m jealous, please give me attention.’

“That’s right. And you three must be-”

“Dustin.”

“Lucas.”

“Mike.”

The three of them seem to be really good friends, you note, almost in sync with the way they introduce themselves and fumble to straighten up their posture in your presence. It’s incredibly adorable, and you can easily see why Eddie is so protective and taken with them.

“Nice to meet you all. I’m so sorry for interrupting your game, I just noticed that Eddie left this behind in PreCalc and wanted to return it to him-”

“It’s fine, princess. Actually you have impeccable timing, because these three boys wanted to know how I managed to land myself a girl like you.” Eddie says, rubbing circles into your left palm.

You laugh at Eddie's comment, before you see that Dustin, Lucas and Mike have leaned over to hear your response, completely serious expression on their faces.

“Oh. You guys genuinely want to know?” you're surprised.

The young boys all nod empathetically, and you casually look over at your boyfriend, who is smiling down at you mischievously.

“Well go on, baby. Tell them how I won a girl like you over.”

“Okay. Um… Eddie didn’t really have to do anything to win me over. I fell for him because he's... him. He’s charming, kind and funny. He’s passionate about music and protecting his friends. He’s wholly and unapologetically himself in an environment that tries to sap any kind of authenticity from you. If anything, I don’t know how I was so lucky enough to land a boyfriend like Eddie.” you finish, looking back at the senior with a soft smile on your face. Eddie's secretly getting choked up at your kind words but masking it behind a boyish smirk, shifting you on his lap.

“Aw, all those nice things and you didn’t even mention my devilishly handsome looks!” he complains.

You roll your eyes at his antics before looking back at the three boys.

“Yes, that too. It helped that Eddie is a good looking man. There. You happy?”

Eddie swears he can see the whole universe in your eyes. He never wants to stop looking into them.

“With you? Always.”

The boys collectively groan in disgust when Eddie pulls you down for a swift kiss, with Lucas loudly yelling that he was going to throw up. Eddie tells them to shut up as you stifle a laugh, quickly getting up and re-adjusting the varsity jacket on your shoulder.

“I should get going. I slipped out of a student council meeting to come down here to give Eddie the notebook. Are we still on for tonight?” you ask Eddie, who nods in response.

“Of course.”

The room’s still masked in stunned silence when you wave the boys goodbye and disappear into the hallway, the rest of the D&D game long forgotten in their minds. Eddie waves his hands in front of their faces again, exasperated at their lack of focus.

“Oi, freshmen! Can we get back to the game now?”

-------------------------------

Eddie swears the only quiet moments with you in this bustling, nosy town is in his bedroom. You’re laying against his chest, your body laying between his legs as he gently attempts you teach you the first few notes of his new song. Your skirt’s bunched up to your thighs and your frilly socks are rubbing against his bare legs, your cute giggles escaping every so often when he compliments you on getting a note right by kissing your face.

The sun’s started to set, bathing the trailer in red and orange glow, and he swears you look practically angelic in this light. Hair frayed around your face, your lower teeth biting your lips in concentration, your delicate fingers thrumming lightly against the guitar. With every shift against Eddie, your cardigan falls down to expose your shoulder and Eddie resists the urge to mark you up right then and there.

Noticing that he’s stopped instructing you on what to do, you stop playing, looking up at him with curiosity.

“Is something wrong?”

God, Eddie thinks, the kids were right. He has no idea how he has landed someone like you.

“Everything’s perfect, princess. Just… a lot of thoughts are in my head at the moment.”

You frown at his response, setting the guitar to the side before pulling back to face Eddie.

“Is it about all the Hawkins students getting on your ass about us dating? I’m really sorry, I tried to do some gossip patrol today but people really like talking and drama and-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” he assures you, placing two warm hands on your face. “I get why people talk. I mean me, Eddie Munson. Freak of the school, best known for supposedly devil worshipping and not being able to pass senior year. Getting to kiss and hold hands with you, miss co-captain and class president? Of course people would wanna talk."

Your expression softens at his admission.

“Well… you know what they say, opposites attract.” you tease, leaning forward to kiss him lightly. This time, your lips taste like cherry - he figures you must’ve been applying cherry chapstick whilst he was in the bathroom a few minutes ago. He’s hungry for more, never satisfied with just one kiss as he pulls you back onto him once more.

“I guess they do.”

The entire school doesn’t understand how you two are dating. Eddie isn’t quite sure why either. But he’s more than happy to let it be a mystery - so long as he gets to continue to hold onto you like this.

-> a/n: I hope we get to see a lot more from him in the show in vol 2 and onwards! Anyways, I really hope y'all enjoyed it: please let me know if you did and if you'd like me to write more in this fandom by liking/commenting/reblogging and what not.

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fics #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 3 months

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Vesuvia Weekly: Brainrot's Baking Lesson

~ What happens when six friends ask their local author to show them his bread recipe? What happens when this involves teleporting them to brainrot's IRL apartment kitchen? ~

1.6k words, rated PG

I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to have all of them over at once, instead of inviting them in twos and threes. Nadia and Asra are both sitting on my kitchen stools, being politely conscious of the fact that they are in my personal space. Muriel is surprisingly at ease - he's found my cat. He's very happy to have something small and soft to protect, and she's very happy to have such a tall and attentive shoulder to perch on.

Julian, Lucio, and Portia, on the other hand, are already starting to stress me out.

"Where's the fire?!" Portia's voice echoes from inside my oven, one hand braced dangerously close to the knob that would make the fire she's searching for appear - right under her nose.

"I'll show you how it works after I show you how I make my dough - Julian, your diet is too poor for me to explain what those are."

The doctor glances guiltily over from where he's been examining the selection of instant noodles on top of my fridge. Of course it's the first thing he'd notice, being so damned tall. "Can you blame me? These have pictures of soup on them, but they feel crunchy! Why do they feel crunchy?" He widens his eyes, crunching a packet in one gloved fist for emphasis and I wince.

"I -"

"Why do you have winter in a box? I hate winter!"

"Close the fridge, Lucio."

"Fridge? As in frigid?" Nadia watches her ex-husband's antics with poorly concealed amusement. "How innovative. This eradicates the need for a cellar."

"What kind of magic does it run on?" Asra's question is innocent, but the way they're eyeing the mechanics of my freezer with a curious gleam is anything but.

"Not a type that you're familiar with, so can we please focus on why you're here?" I don't know what it is about my tone that gets my point across, but it works. I stoop to retrieve my bread bowl and set it on my counter. "So, uh -"

Having six pairs of eyes on me at once (seven pairs, if I count the cat) is not a sensation I think I can get used to. I get several encouraging smiles and take a deep breath. These are my friends. They're all sitting with me because they like being here. This is fun. I love them.

"Uh, so, first, I put some hot water in my bowl." I turn on the kitchen tap to 'hot' and immediately take everything back.

"What -"

"What is that?!"

"That does not look natural."

"You can decide the temperature?!"

"Is it safe?"

"How does that work?"

I shut the tap off. For the first time since I ushered them through the door, the apartment is silent. The cat gives me an unimpressed yawn and curls up on Muriel's shoulder for a nap.

"Okay," I run my fingers through my hair, "Okay, let's try this again. This is a water source, in my apartment, that I control the temperature of. The point is not that I have water, the point is that I need hot water to start my dough."

"We have something similar in the Palace," Nadia muses, "though so far its use is limited to drawing the baths and running the fountains. I've been thinking of expanding the network using the aqueducts, but it had not occurred to me to adjust the temperature of the water as it runs through the system."

"U-um, yeah." I nod, hastily measuring the liquid into my bowl. I hope the butterfly effect from this isn't catastrophic. "Anyways, we need oil, honey, and salt next."

I hand different containers to my different guests, giving the salt to Lucio as I expect it to be the least messy ingredient involved. Portia's quick to wave me off when I offer her a measuring cup. "Oh, I'm just watching. I need both hands free to take notes." She's got an old envelope in one hand and a pencil in the other. I nod and move on.

Putting the dough together is fairly straightforward. Besides Julian calling himself a slippery boy, Lucio howling with laughter when I explain the function of yeast, and Nadia sneaking little tastes of honey from the measuring cup, getting to the point of adding flour is fairly event-less. That is, until it's time to add the flour.

I know they can cook, but I'm quickly finding out that Asra might not have any experience baking. Before I can warn him, he's haphazardly tossing a cupful of flour into the mixing bowl, causing the powdery substance to explode all over the counter, the ingredients, and ourselves. There's a moment of stunned silence before Portia reaches over and rumples their curls, raising a second floury cloud from their hair. She giggles. "It just blends right in, doesn't it?"

There's no question in my mind when it comes to who has the best hand and arm strength for kneading. The question is whether he's willing to part with my cat for long enough to do so. Taiga is thoroughly enamored with her preheated napping tree.

"I'd take her, but I'm still writing my notes." Portia looks ready to cry from frustration. Nadia, always quick to smooth things over, reaches up and begins to lift the furball down.

"I'll hold her. She seems very sweet -"

The tiny, annoyed 'mew' the cat makes as she's lifted down is enough to capture the guests' attention. Muriel takes advantage of the distraction to get a headstart on kneading the dough, his massive hands getting the job done in half the time it usually takes me. I should invite him over to help out more often ...

"She SMACKED me!"

"What do you expect if you try to touch a cat right after they hiss at you?"

When I look over again, Taiga is crouching in Nadia's lap with her tail bushed out, letting out low warning yowls in Lucio's direction. Julian is busy trying to get both of the offended parties to calm down, while Asra sneaks her treats with a proud look on their face. I narrow my eyes. When did he pull those out of my cupboard?

"Now what?"

"Hm?"

When I look back at our project, Muriel is standing over the bowl with both hands slathered in dough and the beginnings of an embarrassed pout on his face. "... I can't get it off."

"Oh gosh - let me help with that. Sorry, this recipe is really sticky ..."

Lucio materializes at my other elbow as I work the dough off of Muriel's hands. "I'm tasting this now."

Before I can protest, he's scooped some out with his finger and already has a chunk in his mouth. For half a moment I consider bapping his hand much like my cat did a few minutes ago, but I let it slide. A little raw flour never hurt anyone ... right?

"I hate to be bothersome, but ah ..." Julian is still standing in the middle of the kitchen, swaying slightly on his feet. "I'm afraid I forgot to eat, and I'm beginning to suspect that bread takes longer than a half an hour to produce ..."

"Honestly, Ilya, why would you do that?"

Julian stares down wide-eyed at his sister, comically intimidated by someone half his size. "I was ... busy."

"Busy since when?" Portia's eyes narrow as she presses her brother to confess the full extent of his sins. "Speak."

"Er - yesterday?"

"You bastard!"

"Okay!" I jump in. "It's going to take another hour and a half, so ... how about we eat?"

Lucio and Asra both look mildly disappointed when I cut off their brewing entertainment. Nadia looks generally concerned. "We'd hate to impose on you. I fear we've already caused enough trouble."

"It's not troublesome," I tell her as I reach for the top of my fridge, "instant noodles are easy."

"I though you said my diet was too poor to learn about these." I swear Julian's eyebrows get bushier with excitement as I set my electric kettle to boil.

"I underestimated you."

... he looks way too self-satisfied with that.

By the time the bread has risen, been shaped, risen again, been baked, and cooled enough to slice up and send home, my guests have made themselves perfectly comfortable. Portia has raided my wardrobe and tried on every cosplay I still own. Nadia has gone through all my chopsticks and arranged them by pairs. Muriel has given Taiga so many scritches that I think she's imprinted on him. Julian has smuggled at least seven instant noodle packets into his coat and grilled me about every item in my medicine cabinet. Lucio has tested out every single makeup product leftover from said cosplay days (I don't know how to tell him that it's all expired and should probably be thrown out). Asra has somehow managed to innocently unearth all the embarrassing things I own before taking a catnap in my bed.

"And that's how I make my bread," I tell them. The six are standing at my door again, each holding half a loaf to take home. "Any questions before I take you back?"

"Can I have some jam for this?" Lucio's already tucking into his piece, speaking around a large chunk in his mouth. "It's kinda dry without it."

"I'm sure you'll be able to procure some upon our arrival." Nadia is somehow making a wrapped half-loaf look like a ballgown accessory with how elegantly she's holding it. "I worry that we may have overtaxed our host."

"Not at all," I tell them, and I mean it. Whatever grey hairs I've gotten from this are far outweighed by how happy I was to spend time with them. "Let me know if you ever want more. Maybe next time we could watch a movie."

"What's a moo-fee?"

"Never mind!" I yelp, "Let's head out, I'm sure you're more than ready to be back in your world, let me just make sure the cat doesn't try to follow us -"

The cat is, indeed, trying to follow us. She gives Muriel's shoulder and Asra's treat-filled pocket a forlorn look as I gently scoot her away from the door. Wait -

"Give those back!"

"Never!"

#vesuvia weekly #cooking class #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fanfic #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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bougiebutchbitch · 5 months

Text

cannot believe I have to come on Tumblr and see people who do not have hEDS telling people with hEDS how their disease is barely a problem really, and they should just shut up about their experiences within the disabled community.

For the record: I absolutely also think some folks with hEDS need to learn that not everything is about them and not comment on the posts of people with entirely different disabilities - but I'm seeing a lot of mockery and minimising of what people with hEDS go through, because of the small group of hEDSers who need to work on their cpunk etiquette. Which feels like it's entirely against what cpunk should be about.

Anyway, my personal experience with hEDS includes:

CCI (craniocervical instability) + associated spinal cord damage + YEARS of damage from regular whiplash degenerative joint disease in multiple joints and my spine in my twenties, which is only gonna get exponentially worse as I age! Yay! cerebrospinal fluid leaks permanant nerve damage and muscle contractures due to scar tissue build up from repeated dislocations + impeded blood flow as a kid that restricts my ability to move arms/legs extreme fatigue frequent bladder and (thankfully less frequent) bowel incontinence :) yayyyy gastrointestinal immotility + dysphagia that means I quite often need a liquid diet regular fainting that's led me to bonk my head more times than I can count frequent subluxations AND full dislocations that cause my joints to swell and be unusable and obviously, constant joint pain

but tell me again about how we 'don't really know what pain is' lmaooooo. Mine's officially 'worse than usual' for an hEDS case, but still. Like. Some of you guys need to sit the fuck down. Not everyone's experiences of hEDS are the same. Some people are barely affected. Some are SEVERELY affected. You can't make a blanket statement about how it affects every single person with the disease. If you don't have it, shut your mouth? :)

#cpunk #hEDS #cripple punk #physically disabled #physical disability #anywayyyy fuck that person #this isn't digging into the neurological thing they're still trying to figure out lmaoooo #I'm hoping that just. goes away again but. hmm. we'll see #everything is a fucking spectrum

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howlingday · 1 month

Note

Jerboas cover themselves in dust to fight grease, is there a Faunus like that?

Jerboa!Faunus Ruby

Ruby: Ready, Zwei? Go... fet-

Nora: (Behind Ruby) HEY, RUBY!

Ruby: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Nora: Huh... You think she'll come down soon enough to help me with my homework?

Zwei: (Whines)

Fun Fact! Jerboas are capable of leaping ten feet, or approximately three meters when startled. By comparing the jumping distance to the body size, which is 5-15cm, or 2-5.9in. By the way, 10 feet is 120 inches. That's about 20 times its own length. Multiplying Ruby's height of 5'4", she would be able to jump 1280 inches, which is over 100 feet!.

Ruby: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH- OOF!

Nora: Oh! Hey, Ruby!

Ruby: Uuuuugh...

--------------------------------------------------------

Blake: What are these?

Ruby: Oh! Those are my crutches!

Blake: They're pretty small...

Ruby: Well, yeah, I, uh, was a pretty small baby.

Blake: How small?

Ruby: Uh, not counting my legs? About half as big as my torso.

Blake: And what about with your legs?

Ruby: Uh... (Barely adjusts hands)

Blake: ...

Fun Fact! Jerboas are born naked with underdeveloped legs. Their legs don't develop until they are eight weeks old.

--------------------------------------------------------

Weiss: Ruby, when was the last time you drank water?

Ruby: ...Water?

Weiss: Yes, water? The clear liquid we need to survive?

Ruby: ...Never had it.

Weiss: Wha-

Ruby: (Crunches on seeds)

Fun Fact! Jerboas are capable of surviving without ready access to water through their diet of seeds, plants, and insects. This unique trait makes these animals a subject of research for osmoregulatory systems in desert-adapted species by universities.

--------------------------------------------------------

Yang: Brr! It's freezing in here!

Ruby: Is it? I hadn't noticed.

Ren: Mm... It's a bit warm in here.

Ruby: Is it? I hadn't noticed.

Fun Fact! Due to their crepuscular nature, Jerboas are capable of surviving both sub-zero temperatures and the desert heat of about 130 degrees.

--------------------------------------------------------

Jaune: Hey, so, Ruby, I was kinda wondering if, I don't know, maybe you'd want to... I don't know, hang out sometime?

Ruby: ...Nope! We can't!

Jaune: Why not?

Ruby: My dad says that if I spend too much time with a boy, then you'd get arrested for treating me cruelly.

Jaune: ...What?

Fun Fact! It is illegal to own a jerboa. In fact, due to their inability to thrive in captivity, it is deemed cruel to hold them captive.

#rwby #jerboa!faunus ruby #ruby rose #nora valkyrie #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #lie ren #zwei #jaune arc

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oddballwriter · 7 months

Text

Dwelling in the Night, Part Two: Neck and Neck

Series Masterlist

Pt. 1 - Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: The MoonKnight system continues to have run-ins with the shadowy figure that they've come to nickname The Silhouette, lurking and dealing with crime in the same area that they do. There's more communication between the two vigilantes but still no answered questions. Simply just a mutual respect for each other despite the different methods they use. A the same time, Steven tells more about their new neighbor Y/N, and even shows them a few things. However, it seems like the more Steven gets to know them, the stranger they seem. And Jake seems to be picking up on a few things in both cases.

Warnings: The reader (Y/N) is a vampire and their source of sustenance is criminals. The action of said method and thus killing is never written or depicted, only implied. Reader lying to the boys. Mention of Harrow. The boys kind of, technically, break into the reader's apartment if you squint. It's not depicted but the reader is in the coffin that was mentioned in the original writing, aka part one, so possibly a claustrophobia warning. The reader, in their lying, claims to be on a liquid diet and also lies saying that it's doctor ordered, so if you have any medical traumas involving diets then a warning for that.

Author’s Snip: No one asked for a part two to the original, I just came up with the idea of adding to it. I'm aware that I still have the Unexpected Addition mini-series and have yet to work further on part three of that but I just wanted to self-indulge considering my love for vampire content and more so my desire to see more vampire content where it is the reader who is the vampire of the story. So yeah. I would gladly make more with this idea but if you all would be so kind as to put your ideas in my inbox once I open up requests again, which MAY be soon. No promises though.

Notes: When I was proofreading this I found that some parts of the story were copied into other places which was so fucking weird. I felt like I was going insane. I think I fixed it and got rid of the extra, but if anything loops, that's why.

Anyways this intro is really long, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2300~

There was a rhythm to the Silhouette, as the boys have named them,’s work when they looked at everything more deeply. They once a month and go for more dangerous criminals like muggers and potential assailants. They also usually stick to a particular block that has an issue with a higher crime rate. At least they used to stick to one specific block until they found another body, with the signature bitten throat, sitting hidden next to a garbage dumpster in an alleyway.

Marc and the rest of the system groaned together when the signs of the Silhouette started coming up. They figured that they would stay and deal with the crooks on their block while Moonknight did the rest of the city. But it seems that they weren’t free of crossing paths with this ‘fellow vigilante’ anytime soon.

And low and behold, here they are now in an alleyway with Moonknight, Marc, standing on the brick ground and Silhouette standing in the cover of the shadows that the lights couldn’t pierce through. The only difference this time around is that there’s no victim or dead, or just scared shitless, criminal that the other bumped into.

“Why the hell are you here?” Marc questioned, holding a stance that was both meant to be imposing and signaling that he was over these types of meetings. “I’m picking off perps. Same as you.” the Silhouette explains. “I thought you had your block? Why’d you move over here?” Marc demanded quickly after the figure spoke. “The criminals have dried up. There’s hardly anyone who lurks around there now, so I have to move spots.” the Silhouette explains matter-of-factually. “Gee, I wonder why,” Marc mutters under his breath before speaking to them again. “What’s your deal anyway, huh? ‘You some type of type of righteous maniac? You seem to have a theme with taking all these bastards’ blood.” Marc questions again.

“I need the blood. I take blood from dangerous criminals to make the means of getting it slightly more ethical.” the Silhouette claims as they stare back at Marc with their faint glowing eyes, “Do some good with the dirty.” they phrase.

Marc sits with that for a moment, not sure how to feel about what they just said. It feels familiar to Harrow’s ideals, but at the same time, this person isn’t making a cult and planning on making a ‘perfect and pure’ world. Instead, they’re just picking off some unpleasant bits that cruise around the streets at night. But it’s not exactly the same as their Moonknight work either. Marc, Steven, and Jake have a job of protecting those who wander and roam under the moon. This person sounds more like that of a mutual symbiotic relationship. Like how a bird can get something out of picking the ticks off of an animal's back, you, apparently, get something out of taking the blood from the crooks that dwell on a block.

“Can I ask what you do with all that blood?” Marc’s morbid curiosity makes him ask. “Can I ask how you got into your role as a hero of the night and moon?” the Silhouette asks back, the tone of their voice indicating that they were echoing him. “I don’t have to tell you anything. It’s none of your concern.” Marc replies. “Then it’s the same answer for you from me.” they quip back. “That’s not really on the same level…” Steven comments from the back of Marc’s mind, to which Marc just repeats back to the Silhouette. “I’m not doing anything bad with it. I can assure you that.” the Silhouette responds.

”So should we just ask them the obvious question, or…?” Jake budded in from the reflection of a puddle. “No. We are not. That’s a stupid question.” Marc says glancing at his alter with a volume that was meant to go unheard, but judging by the confused movements of the Silhouette’s eyes, they still heard it. “Don’t pay attention to that,” he tells the figure.

“Is this the part where I disappear into the darkness of this alley? Or would you like to chat more?” the Silhouette asks with a tone has Marc imagining the cheeky smirk on their face. “Depends. Have you gotten your criminal killing done?” he remarks. “I almost got one but I think they saw me for a second and decided to leave instead of do anything.” the shadowy figure mentions, “And you seem to be calling dibs at the moment. So I think I’ll do my work some other time.” they claim.

“It was nice talking to you.” the Silhouette says before stepping back into the deeper shadows and disappearing into what was thin air yet again.

🩸🩸🩸

"Oh bugger," Steven muttered under his breath, drawing the rest of the system's attention. "What's the matter?" Marc asked. "I completely forgot that they sleep during the day and I've went and opened their door." Steven explains, referring to none other than you. "I just wanted to return the book that they gave me. I should have waited." he scolds himself.

"Well, might as well go in anyways in case you did wake them up," Marc says, "It's probably for the best since I don't see a key in your hand, so that means they had the door unlocked." he points out in addition.

Steven huffed and took a deep breath before opening the door again and stepping in. But as he looked around for what he was expecting to be you sleeping in your bed, he found no one and nothing around. Steven lets go of his breath, glad that he didn't actually disturb you like he thought he did.

"Well, this is kind of worse. Their door is unlocked and they aren't even home. Good thing it's just us." Marc comments.

"Is that a fucking coffin in their living room?" Jake asks.

Steven looks over to see the same coffin you showed him when he helped you drag in your bed frame set a while back. "Oh, yeah. It's part of their aesthetic decor. Isn't it interesting? " Steven said. "They use it like a coffee table." the Brit explains as he walks closer to the hunk of wood.

"It's a coffee-in table. If you will." Steven jokes, making the rest groan at the pun.

"It's genuine though. They said they got it from a funeral place that was selling old ones that they still had in their inventory." Steven mentions as he crouches down so Marc and Jake can get a closer look. "See. Real wood and everything." he adds as he knocks on the scratched polished wood.

"Freaky." Marc comments, both admiring and slightly weirded out by the choice of furniture. "What do they have inside?" Jake asks. "It's empty." Steven answers, "But I'm sure they could store loads of things in there." he assures.

Steven gets back up and places the book he borrowed from you on top of the coffin before he walks towards a desk and writes on a sticky note writing "Thank you for the book! But you should really be careful and lock your door when you leave. I accidentally opened it when trying to give this back. -Steven" and placing it on top of the coffin too.

"Open some curtains before you leave, Steven. It's so dark in here." Marc comments, but Steven refuses, "No. I've already gone touching enough of their stuff without them even being here.".

"I've even let myself in without asking or having a key." he adds.

🩸🩸🩸

Jake wasn't typically the brains or the planner of any of the tasks the system gets up to. He's usually the backup for when things get too much for Marc and Steven. But that doesn't mean he's an idiot, quite the opposite actually, he's often the one who notices patterns and themes that the other two don't pick up on. They call him paranoid when he points it out or thinks he's being an asshole and making snarky jokes.

But when Jake senses something, he investigates it, thoroughly.

Jake might not be able to control the front as well as Marc can, but when he's there, he can stay via focusing on something, and the others can co-front. Which makes way for Steven to see Jake at their desk looking through things like newspaper clippings and what seem to be notes.

The clippings had the same topic judging by their headlines. New Hero or New Threat?, The Killer of Killers, Brutal Killings Scare off Crime, Questionable Hero in the Shadows, Nighttime Duo?, Silhouette Follows Crime to New Hunting Grounds.

"You're looking into our acquaintance?" Steven questions. "I just want to understand what exactly their deal is," Jake answers. "We heard them and Marc's conversation. They don't want to disclose that even if it's strange and disturbing." Steven reminds, but Jake shifts in his chair unsatisfied with that answer.

"I think I already know what they do with it anyway." Jake claims. "Jake, mate. Don't tell me you're starting to think what I think you're thinking." Steven remarks. "What do you think I'm thinking?" Jake inquires. "You know what I think you're imagining." Steven exudes, "You're thinking that they're some type of vampire or something silly like that.".

Jake looks for any surface that might reflect this fellow alter on it, landing on the reflection from the glass pencil holder. "Do you not believe in vampires?" Jake asks as if Steven should. Steven rolls his eyes at such a dumb-sounding question. "Of course not? How the bloody hell do you?" Steven exclaims.

"Steven, mí amigo. We're the alters of a guy who's died and came back from the dead two separate times, which he can see in his reflections. And we work for a god of the moon and have fought a former worker of his who could kill using magic." Jake lists off all while looking directly at the Brit in his appearance in said reflection so that he can prove his point. "And you don't think that there is a chance that maybe, just maybe, other forms of the paranormal also exist?" Jake comes back around.

Steven looked back at Jake, realizing how dumb his stance on not thinking vampires exist is now. "Okay. So maybe they are." Steven says, "But why are you so concerned about it? It seems like they're just feeding themself." he asks.

"I just feel a bit off about the fact that it seems like their work in killing criminals is only backed by the fact that they can use it to get their food," Jake answers. "What happens when the crime pool dries up completely? Who will they bite the throats of next?" Jake inquired, making a new point. "Just want to make sure we know who we're dealing with then." Jake concludes.

The sudden knock on the door causes the two of them to jump a bit. "Who the hell could that be?" Jake grumbles. "Are you expecting anybody?" Jake asks but Steven shakes his head. Jake gets up once a second knock comes, heading towards that door. "Who is it?" Jake calls.

Your voice answers from the other side.

"Oh shit." Jake whispers before switching out with Steven.

Steven unlatches and unlocks the door to show you standing just beyond the door frame. "Hello." he greets, "What brings you over here?".

"They needed to check my smoke detectors with the fire alarm check." you explain, "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you or if you're busy. I just have nowhere else to really go while they check them out and I don't want to be in the same room as they do all that." you explain further.

"Oh," Steven chimes, "No problem. I don't mind you spending some time here." he smiles. "Come on in." Steven says as he walks away from the frame to let you in.

He walks deeper into his flat as you come inside. "Would you like something? A snack? Some tea, even though it's too early for that." he offers. "No. I'm fine." you say as you look around and get a good look as you slowly stride on the same path into his flat. "It might be a bit of a mess. I wasn't expecting anyone to come over today." Steven apologizes as he puts away Jake's notes and newspaper clippings into a drawer.

"It's no proble-" you speak, but stop mid-sentence and make a face. "What's the matter?" Steven worries. "Nothing. It's just..." you say as you stand in his living room, "Did you eat some garlic earlier." you ask.

"I did. I had some garlic bread last night with my dinner. Is it still around?" Steven answers as he opens up a window near the kitchen to make the remaining air get out. "It is." you confirm, "Sorry. I just have a sensitive sense of smell and garlic is just a really strong smell so it makes me pause when I smell it." you explain. "It's okay," Steven remarks, "In all honesty, I don't care for the smell much either." he adds.

"I'm making something nice for dinner tonight. You're welcome to join me, I'm able to make enough for two." Steven offers again. "No. It's fine. I have a strict diet." you say. "Oh, if you're vegan it's perfectly fine. So am I." Steven tries to say but you cut him off. "No. Like..." you stammer, "I'm on a liquid diet. Doctor's orders." you explain.

"Oh. I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Steven apologized. "I hope it's nothing serious." he concerns.

"Judging by how pale they are, it looks like they need to eat some meat." Jake mutters.

"Come to look at them, they look like they match the decor of their place a bit too well." he thinks, but Steven, again, brushes him off.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #vampire reader #vampires #vampire au #vampire!reader #gender neutral reader

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mamamittens · 26 days

Text

A Lone Melody (Pt. 9)

Main

This chapter was sponsored by @yanderefangirl as part of the "Oh Shit Sale", thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Warnings: Discussions of dental issues, child abandonment, abuse, racism, mourning, and poison.

Word Count: 3,183

As Jinbe expected, things got a lot harder.

Well over half the crew left with Arlong for their damn revenge and the sudden lack of so many hit hard. Especially for Melody, who’s small world just got even smaller than it had been before.

They set sail for Fishman Island in the hopes that familiar stomping grounds would soothe the loss they felt.

Melody hadn’t stopped crying for longer than an hour at a time, tears clinging to her lashes even when she had her favorite snack. Jelly crackers topped with chopped coral—poisonous of course, a real bitch to prepare safely but she loved it more than anything else they could make. It was about the only thing she could keep down and Jinbe was unsure if it was because she loved it so much or if the poisonous quality was so desperately needed.

What was worse were her hands… she kept gnawing on them in her anxiety. Covering her skin with a thin layer of poison and tiny puncture wounds. Anything they gave her to relieve the urge to self-soothe either didn’t last or just seemed to make it worse.

They were halfway to Fishman Island when Jinbe was awoken by a different kind of crying.

Not the soft, upset sobs in her sleep that he sometimes woke up with his hand rubbing her back to sooth her. But a sharp, gasping, pained cry. Jinbe’s chest tingled, drool soaking his yukata. Almost burning from prolonged exposure to the toxin.

Even in the dark, Jinbe could see it. A thick pool of venom in Melody’s mouth, small hand grasping a metal ring. Which she shouldn’t even have but still.

“Oh, pup.” Jinbe cooed softly, sitting up carefully as the poison penetrated his skin and made him dizzy. “What happened?”

As gently as he could, he pulled down her chin, mindful of the literally glowing venom laced drool. It was bright enough he could make out the sharp points of her teeth. And the several that were broken, bits of fragments on her tongue. He winced, certain this would not get better until her teeth came out. But with the amount of venom and the sharpness of her fangs, few could afford to risk it.

It had only been a few minutes of it sitting on his skin and Jinbe already knew he needed to wash it off now before more dramatic effects take place.

Faintly, Jinbe recalled that baby teeth could be stubborn. Adult teeth fall out all the time for shark-fishmen. Arlong did it as a party trick when he got drunk, new teeth popping into place almost instantly.

“P-Papah! H-Hurt!” Jinbe felt his heart sink.

Melody barely ate as it was. With her teeth in this state, it would only get worse.

“I know, I know, Melody.” Jinbe cooed, taking them to the washroom so she could rinse out her mouth with salt water. The last thing she needed was an infection on top of all of this. While she was tearfully gargling the water, Jinbe briskly cleaned himself off, removing his yukata and putting it with the wash. “We’ll see about taking you to the dentist when we reach Fishman Island. There has to be someone who can help there. In the meantime… liquid diet, I’m afraid. Hey, maybe we have one of those silly straws lying around?” Jinbe suggested with a frail smile, trying to cheer her up as she openly drooled the venom down the sink.

It was thinning out now, at least. No longer the thick, viscous, glowing liquid.

Melody needed more fluids anyway. Stock was easy enough to make… Jinbe frowned, wondering if they’d need to add poison to it or if a lack would help keep her production down until her teeth can be addressed. It can’t be good to swallow that all the time. But unfortunately this was a very unique biological problem none of them were sure of.

They still weren’t sure what kind of fishman she was. It was entirely possible that she didn’t need to produce venom and it’s just a byproduct. But it was equally possible that now that she has, she couldn’t stop.

For a moment, Jinbe resented Arlong so much it burned. If that stubborn bastard had just stayed put, this wouldn’t be an issue. Melody… she was too young to understand why she shouldn’t do certain things that made her feel better. Biting—such a common shark instinct—was in many ways, a language of it’s own. Jinbe himself had issues teething when he was young, though not nearly as much as his other shark-inclined brothers. Arlong could have walked her through teething in a more healthy way. Communicating her needs without accidentally killing someone with her venom.

All they could do, was their best, really.

And it burned Jinbe that he didn’t know if it would be enough.

But it would have to be. He could never face Arlong—or Fisher Tiger—if he failed to care for Melody when she needed him most.

--*--

Hody Jones was born into the filthy slums of Fishman Island and feared more than anything that he would die in it.

Die caked in the refuse created the misery humanity generated without thought elsewhere, cast over their shoulder into the shadows.

Unimportant.

Forgotten.

Ground to a pulp under the heel of a filthy human’s boot where they should consider themselves lucky to even see.

When he heard of Fisher Tiger, he felt inspired.

Now there was a man who knew what needed to be done. Had the balls to climb those lofty, gilded peaks and shake the filthy humans down from up high. And many rightfully joined his crew—though not Hody Jones, who was too young to be properly brought aboard. Arlong, a man of great strength and value, happened to step off the island onto that ship of opportunity. And Hody couldn’t wait to join him and the others.

But Hody Jones would never get the chance.

Killed.

Murdered.

Fisher Tiger was dead and the crew fell apart.

Hody never felt such resentment in his life to have missed such an opportunity.

Arlong, the man Hody so looked up to, took up that mantle in Fisher Tiger’s name. Leaving behind almost half the crew and Jinbe…

And that mutt of a daughter.

Hody’s lip curled in intrigue and disgust.

A half-breed? Really, Arlong?

If it wasn’t for Arlong pursuing those worthless humans in the name of justice, Hody would have thought he had gone soft. There must have been something to the mutt, for such a great man to see value in dirty blood. Hody had only seen her on occasion, Arlong’s brief visits never bringing her to the slums.

Hody felt… conflicted about that. On the one hand, he understood.

The slums were unkind to anyone. Let alone half-breeds, rare as they were.

But on the other… did Arlong view this mutt as better than this place?

How? With such filth in her blood, how could Arlong think such thoughts?

And here she was again, this time carried by Jinbe.

Even from a distance, Hody could see how the small girl’s lips were pressed into a wobbly line, eyes tearful.

Good. She knows something of the value they’d all lost at least.

Hody listened close to see why Jinbe had returned rather than raze the humans alongside Arlong—though he knew Jinbe had always been softer than his counterpart.

The mutt had taken Fisher Tiger’s passing hard, and the leave of her ‘father’ harder still. Her teeth were messed up and no one was willing to risk the venom to pull them out. Hody Jones frowned, rubbing his own jaw thoughtfully.

Must be those weak human genes. A proper shark would have shed them by now. She probably just needed a good knock across the face to loosen them. Of course, given Jinbe’s well known softness and his size, the man had neglected to do so already. He likely wouldn’t take the suggestion well either, not that Hody felt he was close enough to the man to advise such a thing.

Arlong, perhaps. If he hadn’t thought of it already. But Jinbe? No.

Even if it pissed Hody off to see the mutt weeping so incessantly, it was hardly his place to assist or advise. Some suffering would do the welp good anyway. Toughen up that weak, tainted blood. At least she didn’t look too human. Had that going for her at least. Muddy gray skin splotched with pink from her weeping about the best indication Hody could see without getting any closer what a mutt she was.

If Hody had to be around it for any real length of time though, he made no promises to not fix the issue himself. It wouldn’t even be hard—likely harder to not break that weak jaw than anything else.

--*--

It would be a stretch to say that Whitebeard’s crew was wholeheartedly welcome at Fishman Island. Their captain was good friends with King Neptune at this point, so they could dock with little issue. But they were to behave themselves. Any trouble would see them scrubbing toilets for a year using their own toothbrush. Or worse.

Thatch, having recently been promoted to sous-chef under the aging commander of the fourth division, was having a blast.

Fishman Island was a unique place with more fishman and mermaids than you could shake a stick at! He was behaving though! He barely even drooled at all the lovely mermaids he saw working and living their daily lives. Certain that, while used to human men ogling them, they’d not be terribly receptive to any attempt on his part to charm them. Marco ambling alongside him like it was nothing, the two of them looking for a place to sample the local cuisine.

Naturally, they stopped at a mermaid café, but it was clearly popular so it totally wasn’t because the waitresses were all mermaids!

Thatch would deny it until his dying day that his heart stuttered at the lovely, smiling faces that greeted them. So sue him! He loves his family, but they’re not beautiful mermaid women, now are they? Half of them can’t seem to master washing their own ass, it’s no wonder they needed an hour long lecture from Marco to behave.

Thatch also kindly ignored the implication of Marco specifically going with him over anyone else.

The café was bustling though, quickly drawing Thatch’s attention away from the beautiful women. Nearly every table was occupied, the waitresses shuffling back and forth with food and drinks to keep up with demand. The hostess smiled, dark eyes only just betraying what a long day it had been and Thatch felt a little ashamed at his momentary gawking. At least he didn’t make a complete ass of himself.

“Table for two, please.” Marco smiled brightly, holding up his hand in greeting. Thatch reflexively smiled as well, taking in the delicious smell of what seemed to be soup. Perhaps the special of the day? He couldn’t wait to try it!

The woman, glanced down at her podium and frowned, marker hovering over what must have been the seating chart. Crescent shaped shark tail swaying with a hint of anxiety before she looked up at them.

“I can seat you two now but… perhaps you’d prefer to wait another fifteen minutes for a different table?” She asked softly, her voice sad as she glanced over her shoulder to what appeared to be the only open area.

There was a corner booth and the surrounding two booths and table were empty. In the corner booth was a small child in a booster seat, head buried in their arms with fluffy white hair jerking. Clearly, they were crying. Paper and crayons scattered in front of them with a neglected cup near their elbow. Thatch frowned, heart aching for the poor kid.

He understood why the tables were empty, though not why the kid was crying for so long the busy café effectively bubbled them in isolation.

“Aw, are they okay?” Thatch came closer to the hostess and asked with concern, keeping his voice down. The mermaid sighed.

“That’s Melody. My niece. She’s… having a hard time right now.” She looked at them, gaze lingering on Marco’s tattoo openly displayed before she relaxed. “Fisher Tiger was her uncle… my foolish brother went to take revenge and left Melody with Jinbe. There’s something wrong with her teeth but no dentist will see her so he’s out trying to find someone that will.” Thatch felt his face fall.

Oh, the poor kid. Thatch could remember having a toothache when he was young and couldn’t understand how his whole face hurt that much from just a little bit of bone.

“Why won’t they see her?” Marco asked, ever the doctor even when he was out of the med bay. The hostess squirmed, uncomfortable and upset.

“Mostly, it’s because she’s… half. But it’s also dangerous… look, do you want to wait or not?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject while they reeled that the kid was half human. “It’ll be about fifteen minutes before another table is empty.”

“Can we sit with her?” Thatch asked gently. “Maybe we can’t do anything about her teeth, but some company might be nice while you’re busy.”

Sure, they weren’t really that skilled in taking care of kids, but there was no way they could wait around while one was crying her eyes out. They weren’t monsters, like apparently all the dentists on the island were.

The hostess though, narrowed her eyes at them. Weighing them individually until she looked back one last time to the poor kid. She snatched up two menus and jerked her head for them to follow.

When she got to the table, she leaned over and brushed aside the girl’s hair, nearly whispering.

“Hey, pup. Would you like company while I work? These two are Whitebeard Pirates, they’re friends of King Neptune.” Thatch looked over at the half finished drawings. Vaguely recognizing the waitress by her crescent tail. There was a few of what may be a man with a jagged nose he also faintly recognized, accompanied by a caricature of the kid in question and a big, blue ball in a robe.

There was a red man with black hair scribbled over harshly, paper scrunched up into nearly a ball that, given the context, may very well be the poor girl’s uncle.

The girl sniffled, lifting her head to look at them curiously. Gray skin a ruddy red with the brightest ruby eyes he’d ever seen between thick clumps of bangs tipped black like her fingers. Her face was a mess of snot and tears, lips seeming to glow blue as the hostess sighed, pulling out a rag and tenderly wiping her face.

Thatch crouched down, resting his chin on his arms.

“Hey, sweetie. You don’t mind a few pirates joining your table, do you?” Thatch asked softly. She sniffled, looking at his hair curiously.

“…does it grow like that?” she asked hoarsely and Thatch grinned, hearing Marco snort.

“Nah! I—”

“He spends a whole hour fixing his hair like that. Preens all day to make sure it stays in place.” Marco cut him off in amusement. Thatch squawked in protest but the kid giggled, voice watery.

“They’re funny. Like Hat-cha, can they stay, Auntie Shar?” she asked quietly. The woman in question sighed, brushing a hand through the kid’s hair.

“You sure?” she nodded.

“Eating alone isn’t as fun.”

Now that was a sentiment Thatch could get behind.

The hostess gave them a stern look but slid the menus on the opposite side of the booth.

“You’re waitress will be here shortly.” It sounded like a threat.

Probably was.

Thatch could feel eyes on his back as he slid against the wall and picked up the menu.

“I’m Thatch, and this goof is Marco… got any recommendations?” Thatch asked with a charming smile, the kid still crying softly despite her mood clearly lifting with the company.

“The soup is good but ah have ta have clear. Can’t chew right now with my teeth broke. It hurts but auntie lets me drink it with a silly straw.” She informed them with a crooked smile. Thatch nearly winced when he saw several teeth clearly broken. Strangely, bead of blue liquid pooling down the pearly whites. “’M sick too. It sucks.” She pouted.

Thatch’s heart really went out to the poor kid. Sick, dental problems, and mourning? Yikes.

Marco nodded though.

“Soup sounds good. Clear soup is good for you too. I’m sure you’ll get better in no time.” Marco affirmed gently, though he was definitely curious about why she was in a café rather than resting in bed somewhere. Or conked out on medicine until they resolved her teeth. Maybe she was too young to take anything?

Regardless, they mostly minded their business and ordered their food under the watchful eye of an eel-mermaid waitress. Thatch asking if he can draw with the kid while they waited. Thoughtfully, she agreed and offered to share her favorite colors with him if he wanted, which Thatch accepted with the gravitas of being offered kingship. For a toddler, it was about the same anyway.

Marco spent his time picking on Thatch for having worse coloring skills than a toddler—it was a good time.

Even if the food was shit, Thatch would have to say this was his favorite café meal so far.

Until they brought their food and Thatch nearly had a heart attack. The waitress sliding a bowl of nearly clear liquid in front of the kid. Bits of vegetables floating in the mixture, including mushrooms that were incredibly deadly. Deep red with a yellow stem sliced into thin strips, innocently twirling around the silly straw.

Before Thatch could toss the bowl away from the still crying little girl, a hand was shoved in front of his face. Bowl of soup offered to him—poisonous mushroom free.

“Her dietary requirements are a little… different.” The eel-mermaid explained with a look of understanding. “We don’t know what kind of shark she is, but whatever it is, they apparently eat poisonous things regularly. And produce venom—Shyarly spoke of issues getting a dentist? Well, one nick and they’d be risking their lives. Alongside her… heritage, well… it’s no wonder none are jumping to assist.”

“Ah, is that what that blue liquid is? Fascinating?” Marco commented blithely, easily accepting the wild information with intrigue. He looked thoughtful though. Perhaps wondering if his own devil fruit would be helpful.

But Marco was hardly a dentist and intervening without asking the kid’s guardians would go poorly.

Thatch could only imagine how well it would be taken if a grown man just stuck his hand into a toddler’s mouth and started plucking teeth. Thatch grimaced at the mental image and just ate his soup.

It was good. Savory and clearly well made.

He’d need to ask after the recipe! His family would love it!

#one piece #platonic yandere #a lone melody #one piece oc #one piece thatch #one piece marco #one piece hody jones #one piece jinbe

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stickywhiteash · 7 months

Text

A place where you belong || Kakashi x Reader

Warnings: Breaking and entering (not really), none just domestic fluff

Word Count: (1.2k)

Forearms rest against the cold metal balcony rail. In one hand a cup of tea, freshly made. Quiet peaceful nights like this is what makes being a shinobi worth it. Crickets chirp in the distance, singing along with the idle chatter of those still awake in the streets, also enjoying the fresh air. One heavy breath in. One out. The mind settles, not a single thought bouncing around.

Even the sound of something landing on the railing followed by vibrations doesn’t break the daydreaming. No reaction. Two taps on the ground followed by clothing adjustments break the silence but just for a moment.

Warm liquid slips down the throat. The surroundings turn black as you focus on the backdrop. For a while, not a single word is said. A mutual understanding that the other’s presence brings comfort.

“What beings you here in this neck of the woods?” You ask, finally addressing ‘the intruder’.

He shrugs, knowing you’re not looking at him. Not even a glance.

“Ah.. Wanted some company, I suppose.”

“So the great Lord Almighty Sixth decided to travel to the other side of the village just to visit little ol’ me. I’m touched.”

A receipt crushed into a ball is pulled out from Kakashi’s pocket. Playfully he chucks it at your head. You make no attempt to dodge the piece of trash, causing it to make contact and fall into the cup.

“You know, I hate it when you call me that.”

“Hey. Now my tea is ruined. Thanks a lot.”

“Not my fault. Should have dodged it. It could have been a kunai.”

“It CoULd hAvE bEEn a KuNai”

His arms cross, feigning disapproval. The curves of his mask and the slight eyebrow raise tell a different story: amused.

“If you’re here, who is at the office?”

“A shadow clone I left behind. Shikamaru already went home for the day.”

“I see,” you respond. With contaminated tea, you pry yourself off the railing to make your way back inside the apartment. After passing through the entryway, you glance back and notice Kakashi hasn’t moved an inch. By the gods are you beautiful, messy hair, pajamas, and all. One hand rests on either hip, as tired eyes stare at each other.

“What are you a vampire? Come in.”

That awkward beloved laugh sends tingles down your spine. When was the last time you heard it? He’d been so busy with Hokage responsibilities, you almost forgot what it sounded like.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your humble abode”

“Yeah, yeah. Have you eaten yet?”

Silence followed. He didn’t want to lie to you, aware that if he said yes you’d make him something on the spot. On the other hand, Kakashi couldn’t recall when or what he last ate. Grumbling of his stomach spoke up for him, ending his dilemma.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Go ahead and take a seat.”

“You really don’t—“

“Shut up. You’re always telling Naruto how he should eat and to add vegetables in his diet. Even he’s doing better than you.”

Couldn’t fight you on that.

Scolded like a little child, there was nothing else he could do other than take a seat at the kitchen table. His right hand comes up so his head has somewhere to rest. Kakashi watches as his partner takes something out of the fridge and begin preparing some dinner.

Inwardly he cursed himself for not making more time for you. He knows it’s been hard. With Shikamaru’s help and the shadow clones Kakashi makes, it’s simply not enough. Why do people have a lot of problems they couldn’t solve themselves? Okay, that was harsh, but partially true. It’s the main reason why you two decided not to live together or get married yet. Besides, with how peaceful it’s been compared to the past, there’s no real rush. Kakashi couldn’t wait until Naruto is ready to take his spot in being Hokage. For now, Kakashi will continue learning to adjust in order to make time with his beloved.

Kakashi’s train of thought was interrupted by a bowl being placed in front of him. It was.. one of his favorites: Eggplant Miso Soup.

“You’re lucky I went grocery shopping earlier today.”

“And I’m lucky to have you.”

You nudge and utter, “Just eat your damn soup.” Although the line was delivered as salty as his food, a smile followed suit.

“What about you? You’re not going to eat some?”

“Don’t worry about me, ‘Kashi. I ate earlier.”

Please with his lover’s response, Kakashi hums and pulls down the mask. The two talked about mundane things as he ate.

Lee pushed Guy’s wheelchair down a hill to see who would win in a race. Guy, won. Mirai recently turned two. Sai and Ino are dating and seeing each other.

All of the things that Kakashi probably missed.

A wave of exhaustion hit him after he’s finished. Well, plus a bit of the food coma. Grabbing his bowl, Kakashi starts to stand up only to be sat back down again.

“I’ll take it for you.”

He shakes his head and makes another attempt to get up from his spot. “No, please, you’ve already done so much for me.”

Hand presses down on his shoulder harder, while another swipes the dirty dish from him. “I told you, I got it.” You slip away to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes.

Groaning, Kakashi stretches out his arms in front of him. Naked face laying on the table. An exaggerated sigh leaves his mouth before padding over to you. Arms snake around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. Kakashi’s face buries into your neck. Warm flesh connecting with yours.

“You’re aware I appreciate you?”

“Mhm”

“That I love you?”

“Mmhm.”

“Ahh~ Well, I’ll remind you anyways. I love you and appreciate everything you do.”

“Mmm..”

“Oi..” His fingers poke at their sides.

You tense up but say nothing more, even as the finish cleaning. Lips press into a thin smile, not wanting to give into his antics.

Kakashi squeezes your sides, demanding attention. “Oi! Are you listening?”

Spinning around, you plant your hands on either side of his face. Every detail is already memorized, but it couldn’t hurt to get a refresher. A little mole on the left side of his mouth. Eyes the color of the night sky, sparkling as he looks at you lovingly. Traumatic memory of that cursed day etched over his face, where his friends gift use to stay.

“I heard you.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Eye contact breaks for a moment, looking down at the floor and back at him. It’s okay to be honest with your feelings. Better to not hold it inside until it explodes.

“Just a little bit.”

“Ahh..” Kakashi’s aware of the reason. He’s not stupid. Even if you were to lie, he’d know you were upset. The man is thankful you vocalized your needs and trusted him to open up.

“… I apologize. How can I make it up to you?”

“Take the day off tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Take a look in the mirror. You have the vitality of a wet rag. Wouldn’t want Guy to come bursting in and claim your youth has been sapped away by your duties.”

Another point to his beloved. That is something his eternal rival would do too. Kakashi wouldn’t have it in him to turn Guy down at that point, which would lead to Shikamaru taking on more work and being irritated with him. Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad— No, last thing he needs is another earful from the people he cares about.

“You win. On one condition. I stay over tonight.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

#0111.doc #Kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #naruto #kakashi #fluff

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francesminos-tt · 3 months

Note

i don't know if you've done anything like this but older joffron finally getting closer as a real couple? i mean i imagine they've been married for years and their kids are 10-5 but their relationship has always been more about duty than love 💕😘

This thing is going way too long than I expected.

Daeron came home later than usual that day. As the Financial Director in Hightower Corp, it was normal for him to work late from time to time, especially in tax season. It was already midnight when Daeron entered his family house. The house was dark, indicating that his husband and daughter were already sleeping.

Daeron went quietly towards the kitchen. He only had an energy bar for dinner, which meant he was starving now. Daeron would die for a hot meal right now.

The blonde rubbed his temples as he entered the kitchen. He had expected to see a dark and empty room like the rest of the house, but to Daeron’s surprise, there was someone there.

“Hey.” Joffrey lifted his eyes from the cell phone screen to Daeron, “You are late today.”

“Tax season.” Daeron shrugged, trying to hide his surprise, “Why aren’t you sleep?”

“Rhae and I had pizza for dinner today.” Joffrey said, yawning as he took a plate out of the oven, “You daughter saved you a piece. She made me swear that I would deliver the piece to you safely.”

Joffrey put the pizza plate down on the kitchen table. It was a simple pepperoni pizza with overflowing cheese. Daeron knew immediately that the pizza was not a takeout. It was too poorly made to be store-bought.

“Is it…?” Daeron didn’t have to finish his sentence, because Joffrey began nodding as soon as he opened his mouth, as if the brunette knew what Daeron was about to ask.

“Rhae made it.” Joffrey smiled, “I kept it in the oven, so it should still be warm. You probably didn’t eat much for dinner. Come, sit down. Do you want soda or tea?”

“Diet coke.” Daeron said, throwing him into the kitchen chair, “God, I am starving.”

“I am not surprised.” Joffrey took out a cherry diet coke from the top of the fridge and handed it to his husband, “You are always like that. Never remember to eat whenever work overflows.”

Daeron opened the can and took a huge gulp, the cool liquid like a balm to his burning throat. They didn’t keep many sodas in the house, trying to limit sugar intake of their 10-year-old daughter, but Joffrey always hid a couple of canned coke on the higher compartment of the fridge, for Daeron’s late night sugar cravings. They knew each other’s habits and preferences so well that sometimes they didn't even need to speak. A single nod, a raise of the eyebrow, or even a side-eye was enough for them to communicate.

“Do you need anything to go with your pizza? I think I have some leftover vegetable stir-fry.”

“No, I am good. Thanks.” Daeron said while chewing his pizza. Normally, Daeron had perfect table manners, growing up under his mother’s influence and all, but he had long gotten used to letting his guard down around Joffrey. It was impossible to keep up the appearance for 15 years, after all.

Daeron and Joffrey had been married for 15 years. Well, 14 years and 8 months to be precise. Daeron couldn't really count the days. He only knew that their anniversary was in June, and it was approaching February now. June wedding sounded romantic, but unfortunately, the reality was quite the opposite. Their marriage was one of duty and necessity. They married each other in order to preserve the family heritage. They didn't hate each other, per se, but they weren’t in love either. Neither of them were in a serious relationship when the marriage proposal was brought up, so there was no reason for them to fight back. Daeron remembered that he went through the whole wedding on autopilot. His mind was completely blank; he slipped into a fancy suit, let the stylist do his hair, got the ring, and walked down the aisle. Joffrey was standing at the end of the aisle, right in front of the altar, with a blank expression mirroring Daeron’s own. They exchanged the vows and kissed each other on the lips, and then it was done. They were married.

Joffrey leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Daeron eat his late dinner. If they were a normal couple, they probably would have kissed already. Yet all Joffrey did was watching Daeron eat, while sipping on his own nighttime tea.

“Can you make time this Friday? Rhae’s team is playing in little league. She’s making her debut.” Joffrey asked after Daeron had finished the pizza, “She will be happy if you can be there.”

“When is the kick off?”

“3PM. You don’t have to watch the whole match, but-”

“I’ll be there.” Daeron said before Joffrey could finish his sentence, “I won't miss our daughter’s first football match.”

Joffrey seemed a little taken aback by Daeron’s words. Don’t get him wrong. He knew Daeron was a good dad, highly devoted to their daughter and trying to make time for Rhaenys as much as possible, but Joffrey also knew how hectic the tax season could be. Joffrey wouldn't really blame Daeron for not showing up, but it surprised him how quickly the blonde made his decision.

“That…will be great.” Joffrey managed to find the right words, “Thank you. Rhae will be exhilarated.”

“You don't have to thank me.” Daeron shrugged as he put the plate in the dish washer, “Rhae is my daughter, too. It’s my responsibility to be part of her life.”

Daeron pressed the button on the dish washer before turning to face Joffrey. The brunette was still standing next to the counter, in a faded graphic T-shirt and baggy sweatpants, curls greasy and skin pale from staying up so late. It was not the most attractive picture Daeron had seen, to be honest, but somehow, the scene screamed home.

Joffrey had become the equivalent of home to Daeron at some point. When Daeron thought of home, Joffrey was the first thing that appeared in his mind. Though they hadn't shared a bed since their daughter’s birth 10 years ago, they functioned more like a family than Daeron could have ever imagined. They split house chores, took care of their daughter, showed up family gatherings together, even went on family trips twice a year. They were like a real couple, except for the sex part.

“Well, it’s remarkable of you to make the effort nonetheless.” Joffrey yawned before continuing, “I know how crazy the tax season can be.”

“Go to sleep, Joffrey.” Daeron said, “I am capable of keeping the kitchen clean, you know.”

“Right.” Joffrey chuckled, “Sorry. I must have spent too much time with Rhae. I am used to seeing everyone as a child, I guess.”

“I am not a 10-year-old.” Daeron said in feigned annoyance, “I can take care of myself, mommy.”

Joffrey laughed and bumped his shoulder against Daeron playfully.

“You look no better than me, Joff,” Daeron observed, noticing the dark circles under Joffrey’s eyes, “and I just come back from 12-hour work day. You should get some rest.”

“I will.” Joffrey’s laugh turned into a tender smile, “Good night then. I will see you tomorrow at the field, yeah?”

“Okay.” Daeron nodded, “Good night, Joffrey.”

If Daeron had known what fate awaited them then, he would have never let Joffrey take Rhaenys to the field alone.

The next day, when Daeron showed up at the football field, both Joffrey and Rhaenys were nowhere to be found. It was already 3:30, and the game had already begun. Daeron looked in the crowd, but still no trace of his husband and daughter. Daeron tried calling Joffrey, but the phone went straight into voice mail.

Daeron’s heart sunk into his stomach after he learned that no one on the team had heard anything from Joffrey either. It was unlike Joffrey to just disappear without warning, especially not in a big day like today. Something must have happened.

And then, Daeron got the call.

“Hello?” Daeron tried to keep his voice flat, but failed miserably.

“Do you know a Joffrey Velaryon Targaryen, sir?” A man’s voice came from the phone, but the background noises were so loud that Daeron had trouble hearing him clearly. Was that siren?

“What?” Daeron raised his voice as he ran to the parking lot to get his car. His instinct told him that the call didn't bear good news.

“Joffrey Velaryon Targaryen!” The man repeated, “He’s in a car accident. I am the paramedic, and we are on our way to King’s Landing Clinic. I found your number on Mr. Targaryen’s phone as speed dial.”

Daeron’s heart skipped a beat. He had trouble breathing, as if all the air had been punched out of his lungs. It took all his self-control not to have a panic attack now. No. Put yourself together. Panic would not help Joffrey.

“Yes, I am his husband.” Daeron finally managed as he practically fell into his car, “How… How is he?”

“He’s in a coma. A truck lost control and hit his car from the driver’s side. He probably has a concussion and some broken ribs, but I can’t say for sure without further inspection. Oh, and there’s a girl in the car with him as well.”

“My daughter,” Daeron murmured, “the girl is my daughter. Please tell me she’s okay.”

“She is. She only has some scratches on the face and legs-”

“PAPA!” A girl voice came from the phone. Rhaenys’s voice.

“Hey, Rhae, it’s me. Papa’s here.” Daeron tried to keep the tremble out of his voice, “Are you hurt, my girl?”

“No, I am fine.” Rhaenys answered, her voice muffled, as if she had been crying, “But mama is hurt really bad. He won’t wake up no matter how hard I called him.”

Daeron bit the inside of his cheeks to prevent his thoughts from going to the darkest place. The paramedic said Joffrey was in a coma, right? Probably just a mild concussion. Nothing too serious. So stop worrying and put yourself together, god damn it.

“I am sure the doctors will make him better once they get to the hospital.” Daeron said in the softest voice he could manage, “Can you put the phone on speaker, please, dear?”

“Can you go to KL clinic now, sir?” The paramedic asked, “We are about 10 minutes away.”

“I will meet you there.” Daeron said before stomping on the accelerator, “Rhae, be a good girl and wait for papa, okay?”

“Okay.” Rhaenys sniffed, “Hurry, please, papa. I am scared.”

Daeron’s heart shattered at his daughter’s shaking voice. He probably shouldn’t drive in this state, but Daeron couldn’t afford waiting for an Uber. He needed to get to his family, as fast as possible.

Daeron arrived at the ER 20 minutes later. It took him no time to reunite with his little girl because Rhaenys stubbornly kept her eyes on the entrance, and ran to him as soon as Daeron walked past the door.

“Papa!”

Daeron swept his daughter into a tight hug. Rhaenys looked a little worse for wear; her pink jacket was dusty, her little face too, and there were several scratches on her left cheek and one on her left brow. She was wearing a pair of football shorts, exposing her shin that was covered in bruises and bloody scratches as well. Daeron observed her closely for a long while. Fortunately, apart from the scratches, Rhaenys looked okay. All her limbs were intact and she had enough energy to cry. It was supposed to be good thing, right?

“Thank god you are okay.” Daeron let out a long sigh of relief as he kissed the girl’s forehead, “Sorry for coming so late, but you are safe now, Rhae. Everything will be okay.”

“They rushed mama to the operation room.” Rhaenys said against Daeron’s shoulder, unwilling to let go of her papa, “Will mama be okay, papa? He hurt his head pretty bad when the truck crushed on us. They are not opening his brain, are they?”

Daeron had no answer to that. He hoped with all his heart that Joffrey would be okay. He might not love Joffrey in a romantic way, but he definitely loved Joffrey as family.

A nurse found them and saved Daeron from the awkward silence.

“Mr. Targaryen, right? Follow me, please.”

Daeron carried Rhaenys in his arms as he followed the nurse to the operation room. There was already a resident doctor waiting to brief them.

“Your husband suffers from two broken ribs, a broken knee, and a strained wrist.” The doctor said, “We are able to deal with those wounds, but the concussion is a little bit tricky. He seems to be blooding into his brain, so we have to perform an emergency procedure to remove the blood clot. He’s stable now, but we can’t know how much damage the bleeding did to his brain function until he wakes up.”

Daeron covered Rhaenys’s ears for the later part. She didn’t need to know her mama was bleeding into his brain.

“He will recover, right?” Daeron asked, desperately in need of some good news.

“Most likely. We have seen situations like this before, and normally the patient will make a full recovery.” The young doctor smiled reassuringly, “Right now, all we can do is wait.”

The doctor had a point. Daeron needed to pull himself together, at least for Rhaenys’s sake. He should probably call his sister Helaena and ask her to look after Rhaenys while Daeron dealt with this mess.

“Papa…” Rhaenys whispered quietly in Daeron’s ear, as if she could read his mind, “I don't want to leave mama alone.”

“We are not leaving him alone, okay?” Daeron brushed some soft blonde strands from her face, “But you are injured, too. You need to rest. I promise I will let you know as soon as Joff is out of surgery.”

“No,” Rhaenys shook her head stubbornly, “I need to make sure mama is okay. You don't understand! The truck was heading my way and mama steered the car at the last minute so it crushed on him!”

Rhaenys’s cheeks were stained with tears again by the time she finished talking. She seemed out of breath from speaking too much, so Daeron had to pat her back so that she wouldn't suffer from hyperpnoea. Daeron didn't have time to process what the little girl had just said, or rather, he was reluctant to. He didn't want to dwell too much on Joffrey’s self-sacrificing act. He couldn't, or he would collapse with guilt.

“Your daughter needs to stay in the hospital for the night.” The doctor spoke up, “The surgery will finish soon. You can wait here if you want. Is there anyone you need to call?”

Daeron had a long list of people that he needed to call. Joffrey’s mother, his brothers, Daeron’s own mother and sister, Rhaenys’s school, the football team, etc. However, Daeron couldn't bring himself to do the job now. He might appear calm, but he was just as worried as Rhaenys, maybe more. He had never felt so scared that he might lose Joffrey. The mere thought was enough to make his blood freeze.

“I will just wait here for my husband.” Daeron said eventually, “I will make the calls after.”

Joffrey’s surgery was a success. The doctors were able to stop the bleeding and remove all the blood clots from his brain. According to the doctors, there was no permanent damage.

Daeron had been staring at Joffrey while sitting beside the brunette’s hospital bed for the last five hours. He hadn't even moved, and barely blinked, for fear that Joffrey might disappear if he looked away. Joffrey had half of his head shaved for the surgery, his skin ashen from the loss of blood, and his body was hooked into more monitors that Daeron had ever seen.

Daeron had never observed Joffrey’s face so closely, despite them being married for over a decade. He hadn't really paid attention to Joffrey as they grew up either. Daeron cared more about beating Jacaerys in both academics and sports. Joffrey was just a stranger to him, until his mother announced their marriage. Daeron fought against his mother at first, but his struggle proved pointless, as the duty to his family prevailed in the end. Daeron married Joffrey reluctantly, and their relationship remained cold in the first few years of their marriage.

Daeron remembered their fifth anniversary. They never celebrated it, since the day brought no joy to either of them, but that night, Joffrey came to him with a bottle of whiskey and a bag of homemade popcorn. They ended up finishing the whole bottle before they could eat half of the snack. The alcohol made Daeron’s head spin. He didn't know who initiated it, but somehow, they started kissing on the couch. Joffrey’s body was scorching hot, his breath stinking of alcohol, and his kiss was so sloppy that he missed Daeron’s lips multiple times. Daeron had to grab his face to kiss him properly. The alcohol must have corrupted their brain, making him more passionate than their wedding night. Before long, both of them were naked on the couch, Daeron on top of Joffrey, their groin pressed tightly together.

It was the night that Rhaenys was conceived. It was also the first and last time they had had sex. Rhaenys was an accidental child, though that did not make Daeron love her any less. Daeron and Joffrey warmed up to each other during the brunette’s pregnancy, and continued after the girl was born. Now, no one would have guessed that their marriage was a loveless one. Not even their daughter.

Daeron hadn’t realized how important Joffrey had become until today. The brunette had become a staple, a necessity in Daeron’s life. Like oxygen. Impossible to see, but could not live without.

“Rhae is worried about you so much that she ended up crying herself to sleep.” Daeron whispered, placing the back of his hand against Joffrey’s cheek, “And I am too. Wake up, please.”

Joffrey’s anesthetics should have worn off by now. He could wake up at any moment, and that was why Daeron hadn’t gone to sleep yet. He couldn’t let Joffrey wake up now.

Daeron squeezed Joffrey’s hand gently. To his surprise and relief, the brunette squeezed back.

“Joff! Are you awake? How do you feel?”

Joffrey let out some muffled moan before slowly opening his eyes. He seemed confused, as if he had no idea where he was. Daeron wouldn’t blame him. It was not hard to imagine how much Joffrey had gone through.

“My head hurts.” Joffrey murmured, frowning deeply and squinting his eyes, “The light. It hurts my eyes.”

Daeron rushed to dim the light. Thank God he insisted on taking a private room.

“Does it feel better now?” Daeron asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and using his own torso to block the light.

Joffrey tried to nod, but hissed in pain as soon as he tried to move his head.

“Hey, careful, don’t move just now. You just had a surgery.”

“Surgery?” Joffrey sounded even more confused than before, “Why do I need a surgery? Where am I anyway? Why are you here?”

“You were in a car accident.” Daeron replied gently, “You had a concussion and brain bleeding, but the doctors managed to repair the damage. You are in a hospital right now.”

“Oh.” Joffrey said, “No wonder my head feels like someone has drilled into it.”

Daeron actually chuckled, for the first time since he had learned the news. Joffrey always had the ability to make him laugh, even in situations like this.

“Stop joking. I almost had a heart attack when I got the call.” Daeron wiped some cold sweat from Joffrey’s forehead, “You also have several broken bones, so stay still, okay?”

“Why are you here, Uncle Daeron?”

Daeron’s heart skipped a beat. Why was Joffrey calling him uncle? Joffrey hadn’t called him uncle for 15 years now.

“Of course I will be here.” Daeron replied, trying to keep calm despite the bad feeling rising from his stomach, “I am your husband and Rhae’s father. I am your family.”

“Husband?” Joffrey’s eyes widened I surprise, “Since when? Have we hooked up or something?”

Now, Daeron was sure something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Your husband’s cognitive function is intact.” The doctor said after examining Joffrey, “The loss of memory is most likely psychological, not physical.”

“Is it permanent?” Daeron asked, “Will he remember? When?”

“I can’t say for sure. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps a couple of weeks, or…” The doctor trailed off, but Daeron didn’t need him to say the words anyway. It was clear that Joffrey might never remember their marriage.

“What should we do? Surely there is some meds that can help, right?” Daeron tried to cling to the last hope, like a drowning man holding onto a driftwood.

“I think it is best we hold back on the meds right now. I suggest taking him back to familiar places and try to stimulate his memory.”

Daeron knew it was the best solution, but the problem was, he couldn’t do it. Joffrey had lost the memory about their marriage and the fact that they had a daughter, which meant he also forgot about the truth of their marriage. Though he was surprised to be married to his uncle Daeron, Joffrey didn’t question the nature of their marriage. To him, the marriage was made of love, not duty.

How could Daeron tell him the truth? How could Daeron tell him that they had never loved each other in that way and they slept in separate rooms? How could Daeron tell him that their daughter was a drunken accident? How could Daeron be so cruel to Joffrey?

“I am sorry, Uncle Daeron.” Joffrey said after the doctor had left, “Or should I just call you Daeron? Do we have some specific nicknames? You called me Joff before.”

“Daeron is fine.” The blonde replied with a strained smile, “I normally call you Joff, or just Joffrey.”

“Sounds boring.” Joffrey scrunched his nose, “Are we a boring couple?”

We were not a couple at all, Daeron wanted to say, but he found himself unable to reveal the truth to Joffrey, not so soon, at least.

“I guess it’s just time.” Daeron mindlessly made an excuse, “We have been married for more than a decade. You know how people say. Time is the killer of passion.”

In hindsight, Daeron probably should not have blurted out the last part, because Joffrey’s face visibly dropped at his words.

“Is that why you haven’t kissed me since I woke up?” Joffrey asked in a low voice, “We don't get along so well, do we?”

“No!” Daeron denied instinctively, “Of course not! We have a daughter together, all right? If we don't get along, how could we manage to produce a kid?”

Joffrey chuckled, but this time, his smile didn't reach his eyes.

“You know better than me that having a kid together does not require any deeper feelings.” Joffrey murmured, more like a reminder to himself than Daeron, “Anyway, I will be glad if we do get along. I don't want my daughter to live a strained family, but I totally understand if we don't. From what I remember, we are practically strangers. When you told me about our marriage, I was half expecting the whole thing to be a bad prank.”

Daeron was genuinely surprised how sharp Joffrey could be. The brunette had already grasped the nature of their duty bounded marriage, even though he had just woken up from a coma and lost part of his memory. It would be a perfect opportunity for Daeron to reveal the truth to Joffrey, so that they could find a way to function until Joffrey got his memory back, but the blonde found himself reluctant to confirm Joffrey’s guess.

Why? Their marriage was more about duty than love, wasn’t it? They might lead a relatively comfortable life now, but that did not involve love. They didn't hug or kiss, let alone having sex. They were more like roommates who decided to raise a child together. Nothing more.

But why was Daeron hesitating?

“We…” Daeron spoke, his heart pounding, not caused by worry, but by the lie he was about to make, “we do love each other, Joffrey. The reason why I didn't kiss you is because I don't want to shock you with more information. Ask our daughter, or anyone else. They can prove what I just told you is true.”

Daeron was confident that no one would have noticed their loveless relationship. In fact, most of his colleagues would agree that Daeron was family man. He seldom went for drinks after work, always opting to spend time with his family. One of the office administrators even joked about how deeply in love Daeron was with his husband. Daeron had laughed it off then, but come to think of it now, that old lady might have a point. Daeron slowly began to value his time with Joffrey more and more as time passed, and by now, he could confidently say that Joffrey meant a lot to him.

“Okay.” Joffrey said, still a little skeptical, “You can kiss me now.”

“What?” Daeron expected a lot of things from Joffrey, but asking for a kiss was definitely not one of them.

“I say you can kiss me now. I won't be shocked.” Joffrey repeated, lifting his big doe eyes to look at Daeron, “Maybe I will heal a little faster with your kiss. Mental support and all that.”

Daeron had dug his own grave, and now he was about jump into it.

The blonde moved closer to Joffrey, gently cupping the brunette’s cheek and kissed him tenderly on the lips. It had been years since their last kiss. They would exchange kisses on the cheeks as a social etiquette, but never on the lips. Daeron inhaled sharply; He could smell Joffrey’s distinctive scent, and tasted the brunette on his tongue, despite the pungent smell of antiseptics. The kiss was tender and soft, with no intertwining of tongues or whatever, but Daeron was hit by a strong sense of nostalgia. He had forgotten how soft Joffrey’s lips were until now. He had forgotten how good it felt to kiss his husband, to press their body together, and to feel Joffrey’s heartbeat. How did he live without all this before?

“Never scare me like this again.” Daeron murmured against Joffrey’s lips.

Joffrey let out a heartfelt chuckle and sealed their lips together again. Daeron didn’t oppose the idea of continuing the kiss, at all.

“See? I told you. We are a happily married couple.” Daeron said as he let Joffrey in their house.

“Mama!” Rhaenys rushed to Joffrey and gave the brunette a huge bear hug, “Welcome home! I’ve missed you!”

Rhaenys had been released from the hospital a week ago. Daeron tried to keep the distance from Joffrey and the girl, to give Joffrey enough time to process, so it was the first time Rhaenys properly hugged her mother in over a week. Daeron decided not to tell Rhaenys about Joffrey’s memory loss, for it might make the girl even guiltier, since she already blamed herself for Joffrey’s injury. Instead, Daeron told his daughter that Joffrey needed time to heal, so it was better not to bother him too much.

“Hi, little girl.” Joffrey wrapped his arms around the girl instinctively, “I’ve missed you too.”

Daeron couldn't tell if Joffrey was lying or not, for the brunette sounded so genuine and sincere.

“Papa says you need to rest.” Rhaenys said, untangling herself from Joffrey after planting a small kiss on the man’s cheek, “I shouldn’t been bothering you too much.”

“Rhae.” Daeron sighed, sending an apologetic look to Joffrey. He had clearly underestimated Rhaenys’s clinginess to Joffrey.

“You are not a bother.” Joffrey assured her as he returned her kiss tentatively. Daeron was relieved that he had decided to brief Joffrey about how to deal with their daughter, and by the look of it, Joffrey clearly did a good job at pretending to remember.

“I made you a strawberry sandwich! It’s your favorite!” Rhaenys’s face lit up, “Let me fetch it for you!”

“Strawberry sandwich? Really?” Joffrey whispered to Daeron as the girl ran to the kitchen in her full footballer speed.

Daeron dared not to speak. Honestly, he had no idea what Joffrey’s favorite food was. He never paid any attention. He just vaguely remembered that Joffrey might have a sweet tooth, but that was all he knew.

Rhaenys came back with a plate of sandwiches. The strawberry sandwich was made from plain white bread, with strawberry puree mixed with fluffy cream as filling. The sandwich had a nice color combination, but the overflowing cream didn't make it too appetizing.

“Look! I did just as you taught me! I even cut off the edges of the bread!”

Joffrey laughed whole-heartedly. He picked up one piece and took a huge bite. Daeron wasn’t sure if he himself could do that. He was never one for sweets.

“It tastes amazing, Rhae.” Joffrey brushed some blonde curls from his daughter’s face. Though he couldn’t remember having a child, Joffrey still felt drawn to the girl. His heart warmed whenever Rhaenys smiled to him.

“Okay, you guys enjoy your strawberry sandwich.” Daeron couldn’t help but smile at his husband and daughter, “I’ll carry your things to your, uh, I mean, our room, Joff.”

The blonde picked up the duffle bag and practically escaped to the master bedroom. In order to keep his lie, Daeron had to pretend that he and Joffrey shared the same room (and bed), instead of sleeping in separate rooms. Daeron had already carried his own things from the guestroom to the master bedroom, trying his best to make the space look like it had been shared by two people instead of one. Fortunately, Joffrey kept the king-sized bed that Daeron’s mother had bought them as a wedding gift, or else Daeron would have to order a new bed.

By the time Daeron went back to the living room, Joffrey was sitting on the couch with Rhaenys pressed tightly against him, the plate of sandwiches on the coffee table, browsing through Joffrey’s phone.

“Let your mama rest, Rhae.” Daeron spoke, “He just had a brain surgery. He isn’t supposed to watch the screen for too long.”

Rhaenys pouted and made a face at her papa, but she obeyed Daeron’s words nonetheless.

Joffrey pouted when Daeron snatched the phone from him. His pout mirrored Rhaenys’s.

“I am fine.” The brunette complained, but Daeron wasn’t going to back down.

“No, staring at screens will put too much pressure on your brain.” Daeron put the phone in his own pocket, “Go back to your room, Rhaenys. Let your mama rest.”

“Okay.” Rhaenys jumped off the couch before giving Joffrey another hug, “I will see you at dinner, mama!”

“I can’t believe I gave birth to such a lovely girl.” Joffrey said after Rhaenys’s blonde ponytail had disappeared in her room.

“Come, let’s go to the room. You need to lie down.” Daeron wrapped his arm around Joffrey’s shoulder and gently led the brunette down the hall. He had gotten used to their intimacy in the past week. Now he would not blush whenever he felt Joffrey’s breath on his skin.

“I am not made of glass, Daeron.” Joffrey chuckled, but didn’t struggle. He seemed to enjoy Daeron’s overprotectiveness.

“I am your husband. It’s my duty to worry about you.” Daeron replied.

“Only duty?” Joffrey asked in a mocking tone when Daeron helped him lie down on the king-sized bed.

“And love.” Daeron bent down to kiss Joffrey’s strawberry and cream flavored lips, “Satisfied now?”

Joffrey laughed, tilting his head forward to deepen the kiss, and Daeron gladly let him. It was incredible how easy it was to play the loving husband. He learned to kiss Joffrey regularly so fast that as if he had been waiting for the opportunity for a long time. Daeron welcomed the intimacy, the tenderness, and the love, however fake it was, between them. He even anticipated more, such as sex and cuddle.

This thing of pretending to be in love with Joffrey had become too real at this point, but Daeron couldn’t stop now. Perhaps, just perhaps, he wasn’t pretending at all.

#house of the dragon #hotd #joffron #my asks #joffrey velaryon #daeron x joffrey #daeron the daring #mpreg

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aurumacadicus · 1 year

Note

steve/bucky/tony i kinda wanna ask for regency au but let’s do pregnant omega tony and his stupid boys

I did do one for Regency a billion years ago (I think you can find it under both the regency au tag and the 5 head canons tag). I always love stupid boys <3

No one is more surprised than Tony when his test comes back with a second little pink line. He'd thought he'd never be able to have children. His doctor had said he was infertile after Afghanistan, not just from stress but because of secondary internal injuries that hadn't been seen as important as his heart when they'd been operating on him in the cave. Apparently, it was a common misconception that people believed "infertile" was synonymous with "sterile." It was possible to get pregnant, just less likely without medical intervention. Tony was being railed by two super-serumed soldiers on the regular, though, which apparently extended to their sperm count. "It basically counts as medical intervention, doesn't it," his doctors had murmured to each other, as if he could not hear them. So. He's pregnant. He doesn't know who the dad is and quite frankly, he doesn't care. But he does worry how they'll take it. So far they've had a pretty smooth relationship, but mostly because all of their problem-solving consists of 'fuck it out.' Now that he's going to be nauseous all the time and gaining weight and everything, he doubts they'll want to touch him with a ten foot pole, let alone fucking his brains out. But he has to tell them, he supposes, even though he's really not looking forward to them gradually distancing themselves until they can figure out how to co-parent.

"Do you know whose it is?" Steve asks. "It's not even an inch big yet," Tony tells him sternly. "I only found out so early because I have to have checkups after every heat. It'll be three weeks before we can do a DNA test." "Aw," Steve and Bucky sulk, crossing their arms over their chests. Then Steve perks up. "Okay, so. Eight months left to--" "Full-term is forty weeks, nine months left," Tony cuts in. "They always said nine," Bucky says, surprised, then hastily adds, "Not that I'm doubting you, I just didn't expect even pregnancy to change in seventy years--" "Pregnancy and babies have changed a lot," Tony begins. Steve shoulders his way between them, scowling. "Yeah, okay, well, we have time to learn. Great, even! Now we have nine months to prepare." "We?" Tony asks, brows furrowing together in confusion. Steve and Bucky stare at him, then turn to each other and do that thing where they talk to each other with their eyebrows and eyerolls. It takes a few minutes, but then they turn back to him, and Steve firmly says, "Yes, Tony. We. We have nine months to prepare for the baby." "We're all in this together," Bucky adds. "Just because the baby isn't biologically one of ours, we're a team. This is our baby." "...Sure," Tony says dubiously. Somehow, neither Bucky nor Steve look offended by it.

Steve and Bucky jump into research with gusto. Tony has no idea what to think of it, so he doesn't, instead focusing on eating healthy and staying fit. He's older than he'd liked to be for his first (only) baby so he wants to stay on top of his health. He's a little surprised when Steve and Bucky adapt their diets to match his (if with doubled portions), but he figures he appreciates the solidarity, if he allows himself to think about it at all. They get into a deep, deep discussion about the pros and cons of disposable diapers vs cloth diapers. Tony can't even get a word in edgewise as they bicker over liquid absorption in cloth and skin irritation in disposable. Mostly he just waits to see what decision they're going to make. It feels like it's out of his hands. Then they seem to remember he's there, and they ask how he feels about it, and he says, "I'm going to be so tired and gross that I'll just do whatever is easiest." "Oh, we were going to do all the changing," Steve begins, and Bucky proudly adds, "I'm a pro. I changed tons of my sister's diapers," and Tony immediately starts heading toward the bedroom and stripping off his clothes, to their confused delight.

"...Of course we'll have a baby photo shoot," Tony says, bewildered. "I'm famous. We're famous," he corrects after some thought. "I want to put out the first pictures of my child, not have a paparazzo get the scoop." "Oh no, this is a horrifying implication that we didn't consider," Steve answers, putting his head in his hands. Tony stares at him, because this has not clarified anything. He turns his attention to Bucky. "Huh?" "The doctors made it pretty clear that this should be your only baby," Bucky offers hesitantly. "And we thought we should... appreciate every piece of it? So we thought doing some professional photos of you and your bump would be nice." "Oh," Tony says, brows furrowing together. "Um. I guess that sounds okay. Are you sure?" His hands come up to rest on his stomach, palms sliding over his baby bump. "I've got a lot of stretch marks. They're kind of ugly." "Every part of you is beautiful, Tony," Steve scolds. "Do you know how hard it is for me to not lick them? I am constantly exercising restraint." "It's true. He's very annoying when he complains about it," Bucky assures him. Tony raises his eyebrows. "I didn't need convincing. Steve is not subtle when he decides he wants to sketch me." "I'm totally subtle!" Steve exclaims. Tony pulls up his shirt a little. Steve's eyes immediately drop down to his stomach, pupils dilating, fingers twitching before he curls his hands into fists. "Oh my god," Bucky says, stunned, because apparently he'd never noticed before. "IS IT MY FAULT TONY IS SEXY IN ALL FORMS," Steve bellows defensively, and Tony responds, "It's too close to my afternoon nap to get horny, so keep it together. You can sketch me sleeping." Steve punches the air with a cheer. Bucky buries his face in a pillow to try and muffle his laughs. It doesn't work.

Nearer the end of his pregnancy, Tony eschews maternity wear and just puts on one of the alphas' shirts. Everyone, from their fellow Avengers to random people on the street, coo about how sweet and cute it is. Tony has always sort of prickled at the idea that he needs an alpha in his life to be whole, and prickled more at the whispers that he needs an alpha to control him. Not all of his decision to hold off mating was because he couldn't find someone he wanted to settle down with; part of it was also worry that any prospective alpha was holding out to do just that, wait until he was trapped to control him. He doesn't feel that way about Steve and Bucky though. They make him feel... safe. Wanted, even. So sometimes he likes to leave the tower wearing one of their shirts. It gets people to give him space. (And maybe he feels all warm and gooey inside when people gently rib him about it. But that's his business.) Steve and Bucky have never been in more pain in their lives. Tony kicks out of his shoes and pants as soon as he gets home, complaining about his swollen feet and ankles, so he's walking around in nothing but one of their shirts and maybe underwear, because he's complained about the waistband digging in uncomfortably the bigger he's gotten. How in the fuck are they supposed to cope? He's literally never been sexier. They're trying very hard not to be neanderthals about it, but it's difficult when he waddles around the penthouse, smelling of them and himself and baby, wearing nothing but a shirt and cradling his bump. It's a good thing this is his only baby because if they had to deal with this one more time they simply wouldn't let him off his back for ten months. Tony's smug about it when he notices, which makes it worse. He's so attractive when he's smug. It's not fair. (Except the suffering is worth it, when Tony coyly peers over his shoulder at them and lifts the back of his shirt up over the curve of his ass invitingly.)

Bonus: Tony has the baby and Steve cries a lot. He's too scared to hold her so Bucky lets him cradle his hands as he holds her. Tony supervises closely before finally saying, "Well, that was a lot," and promptly falling asleep sitting up. Steve and Bucky gape at him.

#aurumacadicus answers #ask meme #5 headcanons meme #stuckony #omegaverse

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robs-corner-of-the-internet · 20 days

Text

Tips n Tricks!

ive had an 3d for about 2 years (i think?) and ive been on tumblr for most of that time, here are some tips, tricks, and some of my "rules" that ive learned over the years!!

Chug water before meals to fill you up.

Always count liquid c4ls (they seem innocent but they can be like 200+).

Never eat in school.

Have meta days sometimes (it helps to prevent binges and obvi good for ur metabolism).

Keep plastic bags in ur room to throw away food in (if u can)

WALKSS, walks r ur best friend! you loose c4ls and it can help u skip meals

Chew for longer and drink between bites (makes u slow down and feel ur hunger easier).

Leave food on ur plate!!

Take vitamins! (if u can).

Drink hot tea w nothing in it or sweetner.

Dont accept food from friends/other people unless you have too

Never buy food or snacks unless you really have too or if its low cal/diet.

Dont chew and spit too much, if you do then eat a little bit of low cal food also so that its less harmful.

Keep yourself busy!! you wont have time to eat if ur always in the middle of something.

Dont worry too much if you go over u limit, theres always the next day and its better to overeat a little than to binge because of it.

Do your research! yes we r all disordered but learning about real weight loss and diet things will help a lot w ur wl, 1000 c4ls isnt going to kill you and 1 apple a day isnt maintainable in the long run.

Be realistic! your not going to loose 5kg in 2 days but if u stick to it you will get to your goal.

Body dysmorphia is real and it sucks, just bc you dont feel like your loosing weight it doesnt mean thats 100% true. We have a disorder and you might not see yourself like others do, keep going and one day you will!

Always sit instead of laying down, stand instead of sit, walk instead of stand, and run instead of walk.

Dong give up!!

These might not be then best but here they are:)

#@na #ed relapse #boy ana #th1n #actually mentally ill #@na motivation #@nor3×14 #@n0r3xia #@na blog #@na dairy #@na bvtt3rfly #@na buddy #@na rules #@na shit #@nablr #@tw edd #@nor3xia

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thegirlwhoistired · 3 months

Text

my (approx.) 144 hr fast technically starts after dinner tomorrow night so heres the rules to keep myself accountable 🎀

starting: 8.00pm saturday 10/2

ending: 8.00pm friday 16/2

rules

⭐️weigh in every morning on empty stomach (posted with previous days cal count and log)

⭐️photos every morning on empty stomach (for my own progress photo album)

⭐️liquids only!! (approved: WATER! tea & coffee (no milk, no sugar), diet/zero sugar soda (one a day MAX), one meal replacement shake allowed over the course of the 144hrs (only if im gonna pass out or something stupid), oxyshred (pre workout) on gym days in morning

⭐️ can have 5 grapes in total over the course of the 144hrs (if absolutely necessary but avoid)

⭐️cals have to remain under 100 every day

⭐️burn more cals than consumed every day

⭐️ any temptations to break result in: push ups to failure, crunches to failure, squats to failure, plank to failure

⭐️ if anyone asks, i already ate

⭐️ if partner asks for proof of food (hes done it before but doubt he will this time) make food, take photo, discard, send photo of empty plate (if he asks to see me eating it ill take a photo of me taking a bite and spit it out and brush teeth)

⭐️count and track EVERYTHING

⭐️fast starts after dinner tomorrow night and does not end until my partner comes home with dinner on friday

fast will be broken with whatever he brings home (ill try to not eat everything in the one sitting and break it up over two days)

i have done very similar in the past however the longest i have been able to go without eating (or purging what i did eat) is about 72 hours (wasnt expecting to fast that long so i didnt log it)

it cant be that hard to just not eat, i want to see progress and i want to be skinny so ill do whatever i have to to see that number go down 🎀

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scaryscinny · 2 years

Text

new food rules for me<3

i think if i can make a list of foods to allow myself to eat and really avoid everything else, it’ll be a lot easier for me to keep it up so!!

can eat whenever:

-strawberries

-pickles

-water, gum

ALWAYS avoid:

liquid calories of any kind

diet sodas / anything carbonated (low/no cal but cause bloating and still bad for you)

ice cream (i don’t enjoy it very much, but once i have a little it’s hard to stop myself. i especially hate vanilla flavoring and creamy things, i just don’t feel well after)

dairy in general tbh

pasta, mac and cheese, pizza (i really don’t enjoy it very much but i try to enjoy it and overeat because i like the feeling, i always regret it and feel sick. there are just better options tbh)

fine, in limitation:

corn flakes or other low cal cereal (like 300kcal for a whole bowl, but it’s so easy to overeat)

french bread (when it’s fresh it’s very hard to avoid, high calorie so i’d rather just chew and spit a piece until i get grossed out than cut it out completely)

chocolate (hard for me to avoid when it’s in front of me, i just try to take very small pieces at a time and then wrap up the leftovers... even if i come back for it ((let’s be honest, i definitely will)), i can at least space it out a bit)

fast food (examples below) (if i stop myself completely, i’ll just end up giving up and binging/ ordering waaay too much when i finally go back to it tbh. i’m trying to keep it minimal/ maybe once a week or every other week.)

fast food go-to’s:

mcdonalds: 10piece chicken nugget, medium fry: 460 + 350 = 810 kcal

kfc: small popcorn chicken, small fries: 362 + 260 = 622 kcal (i’m uncertain about the sizing and found different results on calories... but i’m going to count this anyway because i NEVER end up finishing the chicken and i throw away like half of it)

starbucks: two bacon gouda sandwiches: 370 + 370 = 740 kcal (trying to avoid liquid calories so no drink)

chipotle: build your own taco/burrito kit (yes, the one for kids haha) with flour tortillas, white rice, shredded cheese, and guac: estimated 1000kcal (i’m unsure because the amounts are difficult.... probably a little less because i can never finish it all but i do also get chips. no drink)

NOTE: if i’m really craving something, the best thing to do is eat some of it along with fresh fruit (i.e. cheetos, bread) or in the case of fast food, to try to order the smallest version of the meal you want (i.e. 4pc nugget and sharing a small fry, or just eating a bite of everything and then throwing it away) so you can’t go back and get seconds afterwards. instead of refusing to eat what you really want to and binging on crap later, i think it’s easier to give in a little and then make up for it later. plus, i’ve noticed that most of the foods i crave taste so much better in my head... when you eat it and are disappointed, it’s less appetizing in the future

#tw ed vent #tw ana stuff #tw ed relapse #tw ana thoughts #anamia #ana #anarekcia #thinsp #safe food #food log #food diary #food rules #ana rules #skinnni #ed ednotsheeran restriction

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oddballwriter · 6 months

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Dwelling in the Night, Part Seven: Special Delivery

Series Masterlist

Summary: Steven is caught up about the night that The Silhouette talked to him, thinking he was Marc, MoonKnight, but they sounded so much like his friend and neighbor YN. Steven spends nights and days thinking about it denying clear signs till Jake comes up and decides to let Steven in on a little secret.

Warnings: Mentions of vampire-themed things such as (implied) consumption of blood and blood bags. The reader is the vampire. Steven had a bit of a moment where he was in denial. Steven and Jake argue and bicker throughout a mass majority of this chapter but what's new? There's talk about reader being in danger of being hunted down by vampire/monster hunters.

Author’s Snip: Here we go! Part seven baby! And I got notes for eight done and working on nine. I hope you guys are liking this because the end is NOT in sight. Lol

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2244

It's been eating at Steven for days now and he couldn't get it out of his mind.

He saw you enter the alleyways, he knows he did. He could recognize you easily. But next thing he knows he comes across the Silhouette and they actually talk to him, and they sounded like you. But it couldn't have been you. It just couldn't. Steven refused to believe such a thing.

He and the rest of the system know what the Silhouette is and they don't really hide it either with how they talked about what they do and why even if they themself never actually confirmed it, and you just couldn't be that. You couldn't possibly be a vampire.

Vampires were bloody-thirsty beings that went out looking for someone or something to get their meals from. And that just wasn't you. You could be such a thing. You never loomed over him. Never looked like you had some plan in your eyes.

But then again you never go out in the day, apparently sleeping due to... something regarding your lifestyle or work. Did you ever actually say what you did that would cause that? Your strict liquid diet. Your collection of antiques. The closed curtains in the day. Your interesting decor. The photo of who you say is your relative that you look exactly like through some weird genetic lottery.

No. No. That's ridiculous. This is ridiculous. You aren't a blood-sucking vampire. You were too ni-

"Jeez, what's got you in a twist, huh Steven?" Jake intrudes in the middle of Steven's train if thought. "Nothing. It's nothing." Steven claims to his co-alter. "It doesn't seem like nothing I can feel you thinking yourself into knots in here." Jake says, "Mind telling me what that is, amigo?" Jake asks again.

Steven sighs with a bit of a groan at the tail end of it, "Something strange happened a few nights back when I was doing the rounds around the block." Steven admitted, but Jake's silence was a tell that Jake wanted him to be more specific. "I saw Y/N leaving into the alleys. I thought that was odd so I followed them a bit because that's the alleyway and I wanted to make sure nothing happened to them. But I lost them at some point and when I did, that Silhouette person showed up and talked to me, I think they thought I was Marc." Steven explained further. "And?" Jake questioned. "It's stupid. I'm just getting in my own mind." Steven claimed again. "What was so weird about it, Steven?" Jake prods. "They sounded like them." Steven finally confesses.

"You think they're the same person?" Jake asks.

"I didn't say that." Steven idly corrects.

"So you're all caught up on the fact that they sound alike but you also don't think that they're the same person?" Jake inquires with a tone that holds skepticism towards Steven's reasonings. "I don't know..." Steven mutters before switching back to being more confident in his idea, "No. No. They aren't the same person. They just can't be." Steven proclaims. "Why not?" Jake counters.

"Because they just can't be, Jake! I have a hard time believing that they could ever be such a thing." Steven exclaims. "Vampires are unsettling and just want to drink blood and use trickery and other things to get it. I've never felt that way with them. I've never felt in danger around them, if anything I worry about them being in danger or getting hurt." Steven explains. "So your reasoning is that they're too pretty and polite to be a vampire?" Jake remarks.

"What the bloody hell are you trying to get at here, Jake?" Steven snaps back.

Jake's silent for a moment, but only a short moment before speaking again. "Give me the body." he requests, "I have something to show you.".

🩸🩸🩸

It was a short track, about ten minutes, down to a rentable garage that the system knew was where Jake kept all his things for his work like his cars and equipment. Marc and Steven never went or looked through to see it because it didn't have much for them. But Jake has asked Steven to stay co-fronting as Jake made the walk.

"What exactly do you want to show me?" Steven asks from the reflection in a building window as Jake waits d for the crossing light the change, "You'll see." Jake says casually. "I don't like the ambiance of this, mate." Steven comments as he stands in the glass, "I'm not a fan of surprises, especially when it's something from you." he adds.

"It's not a surprise, Steven. I just don't have good words to explain it, so the best action is to just show you." Jake explains. "Once this is all done you'll understand and know." Jake claims before continuing to walk. "I don't like how you're beating around the bush, you know that?" Steven calls out to him before moving along with him.

Soon enough, the two make it to the garage. Everything was still in place. The same cars and sets of various things say for a mini fridge on a table and a cooler set below the table Steven doesn't remember being there before. He takes a moment to think about it but settles on the idea that maybe he and Marc have just never noticed them before. But he realizes that whatever there is to see involves these things when Jake saunters towards the table. Casually opening the freezer part, taking out two ice packs, and placing one in the bottom of the cooler.

"Jake," Steven asserts, "What could you possibly have in store for you to need a cooler and bloody mini-fridge in your gara-" Steven was stunned out of finishing his sentence when Jake opened the actual fridge part to reveal blood bags, and a lot of them packed inside.

"What the hell!" Steven exclaims in horror at the display, having such a strong reaction that the body staggers slightly even though he isn't entirely fronting. Jake finds their footing and starts reaching into the fridge to grab one but Steven takes control of the body and yanks their hand back. "Jake, what in the bloo- what in the fuck is wrong with you?" Steven yells looking towards the window of one of the cars, seeing Jake looking back at him.

"It's a long story. I'll explain when everything is done." Jake says. "No! No! Absolutely not." Steven interjects, "You are explaining everything to me right now. Do you understand me?" Steven demands. Jake shrugs "Alright.", "But close the fridge door, the blood needs to stay cool or else it goes bad." he adds.

Steven shuts his eyes to avoid seeing the bags when he closes the door before looking back to Jake, "Spill." he demands again.

"Those are for Y/N. I found out that they were not only a vampire, but that they were that Silhouette person. Both because they sound the fucking same and because I accidentally saw them chase someone down. They didn't kill them but they did do some weird power thing so that they don't remember what happened and let the person go. I didn't mean to spy on them that time. I was just scouting around and happened to witness that without them seeing me." Jake started explaining. "But, I was worried about our safety so I... might have paid them a visit while they were sleeping." he then details, hesitating to admit that he broke into your flat. Steven was about the tear him a new one but Jake stopped him with a "Let me finish.". "I just looked around. I found them in the coffin in their living room because of course I did. They were... sleep? Or something. Whatever happens to vampires when it's daylight, I don't know." Jake shrugged. "Again. I did nothing to anything or to them, I just saw what I needed to see and left." he clarifies.

"After that I caught them walking the alleyways again and, while disguised, told them that I knew who they were and that all I wanted was for them to keep their fangs off you and technically Marc. And they did, they said they weren't planning on it anyways-" Jake picks back up but Steven comes into the talk. "You told them about us?" Steven questions. "I didn't say that." Jake corrects, "I told them to not hurt you and 'Moonknight', so technically Marc. They know nothing about this." Jake clears up as he points between his place in the reflection and where Steven is.

"And you didn't tell me when you learned all this why?" Steven asks, upset at being left out of the loop, "I mean- I feel like I'm experiencing all the same rubbish with Marc all over again." Steven rambles in disappointment. "I had to make sure we were safe or in danger before doing anything. I was doing my job being part of this system." Jake defends. "I get that you're mad but I was doing this to keep us safe. I would have let you figure it out but you were driving yourself nuts and I didn't know how to explain it to you without you actually losing it." Jake apologizes. "You telling me would have been nice." Steven remarks.

"You didn't even want to believe vampires existed at first. How was I meant to break the news to you that your little crush was a vampire? Plus I didn't know if they were aiming to eat from you because you're so trusting of them or not until recently." Jake rants.

Steven rubs his temples to ease his head as he digests all this information. "Does Marc know?" Steven questions in a groan. "Jake shakes his head, "As far as I know, no. I don't even think he knows that they quit their work in the alleyways since you were out then." Jake answers.

"Why did they stop?" Steven asks himself. "Listen, I just started doing this to see if maybe they would take it, and they have been. We have a thing set up where I deliver the blood bags to them and they tell me when they need more. I don't really know why they're quitting." Jake claims. "They said something about 'unwanted attention' back when they thought I was Marc that night. Plus he hardly knows YN so we might as well wait till he does and then we explain it to him." Steven mentions.

Jake does a well-that-explains-it gesture but Steven stays in the thought. "Maybe they really are in trouble. Lots of trouble." Steven worries.

"Listen, hermano. We can worry about all that later. But right now I think we should finish the delivery. Yeah?" Jake gestures to the mini-fridge. "I can finish it for you if you want. You seemed kinda disturbed by the-" Jake offers but Steven buds in, "No, I can do it." he says.

Jake tells Steven how to pack the blood bags into the cooler properly and make the walk back to the flats.

🩸🩸🩸

Steven spends a moment staring at your flat's front door. He's made the ten-minute walk back from the garage, past the front desk, and up the elevator, all he had to do was knock. But he felt oddly nervous and hesitant. Like, some part of him still didn't want to believe that he was actually delivering blood bags for you to feed off of because you're really a vampire.

"Are you sure they're awake?" Steven whispers. "It's about five-forty or so and it's getting dark out now. I'm sure they're up. They might actually be waiting." Jake answers, "Have your keys ready to head into our flat so they don't see us." Jake mentions, Steven following the instruction and unlocking the door to his flat so he could pull it off.

With a deep breath, he places the cooler at the door, does the knocking rhythm that Jake taught him, and slips into his flat without making too much sound.

Steven stands with his ear pressed to the door, hearing what sounds like your door open, then promptly close. He waits a moment before opening the door again and peaking out into the hall and looking at your flat. The cooler is gone.

Upon this sight, Steven pulls back into his flat and turns towards the rest of it but just stays standing there, looking towards the ground as he tries to process this now.

You are a vampire... that's... okay. That's perfectly fine. That's just how you are. That's great to have in mind. Now everything odd about you has an explanation and he can make everything vampire-friendly for you when you come over and he knows to overlook everything at your place. He now knows your secret. Without your knowing.

"Should I tell them that I know?" Steven ponders to Jake. "Well, you'll have to explain how and that would snowball into you having to explain everything about us." Jake remarks, "And I think we should at least have Marc in on it." Jake sarcastically suggests.

"Tell me what?" Marc's voice comes in as if it were on cue. Steven and Jake let out stressed groans before Jake chimes in "Steven, go sit down and get the mirrors.".

Turning his attention to Marc he tiredly says "Marc, bare with us here, but it's a long and wild story.".

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #vampire reader #vampire au #dwelling in the night #ditn #ditn saga

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