#and yes i'm talking about marigolds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whimsicalwritingsandmore · 4 months

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Marigold | ateez x reader

Pairing: college!ateez x college!reader

Genre: college, slice of life, romance, poly

Word Count: 1251 words

Summary: After your friend ditches you to become roommates with a rich group of kids in order to live in the Magnolia Apartments, you find yourself alone for your master's program. Never fear though, a long-lost friend has a room available and eight new faces might just make it much more memorable.

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You weren't mad, just disappointed.

Your friend sat across from you, looking around everywhere but at you while you stared at her with an unamused expression as you took a long sip of your drink.

To be frank, you were a very understanding person. If she didn't want to be roommates then all she had to do was say so. Instead, she tiptoed around with another group of individuals who for some reason, did not like the best bone in your body. In your mind, you could only imagine the conversations she may have taken part in about you.

The group was none other than an obnoxious bunch of former acquaintances who belonged to a particular tax bracket which afforded them the luxury of being able to live in the Magnolia apartment complex — the most prestigious residence near your university.

The property was a newly constructed, high-rise towering skyscraper with a shiny contemporary design. It was modelled out of excessive but opulent marble and ostentatious gold-plated fixtures, and was sprawled across a large-scale acreage with towering columns and numerous balconies overlooking the city. The entrance was beautifully decorated with a manicured garden and had an imposing entryway that was the epitome of an exclusive lifestyle that only some could afford.

And you had a little secret…you were part of the some that could afford to live there. But you preferred not to and so, you never told your friend and hoped you would never have to.

But now here you are. You were going to end your friendship with her because you knew there was no way they would let her in if she only said nice things about you. And your friend wasn’t the most loyal person when it came to friendships.

"You should've just told me," you remarked, "It's not a big deal if you don't want to share a space."

"Well…” she answered, “I didn't know how you would react. After all, you lied about being able to afford staying there anyway."

You grimaced and shook your head. There it was.

"I admit I did lie, but what's the big deal staying there anyway? Does it matter where we stay? The master’s program is just two-years long."

"Yes! We had an opportunity to stay in the Magnolia apartments! Why wouldn't you want that??"

"It's just an apartment building - luxurious and beautiful, sure, but it's not the end of the world if we don't."

"It is to me. I always wanted to stay there ever since they finished it and you knew that. And yet, you never decided to tell me that we could stay there."

"For good reason. I'm sorry for not telling you but it's not something I wanted to talk about."

"Am I not your friend?? Literally, how could you be so selfish?"

You scrutinised her with a blank expression. Selfish, a very interesting word choice coming from her. It was quite ironic that the embodiment of selfishness was calling you selfish. You planned on walking away from this calmly but that was no longer possible.

"Here's the thing," you vocalised, sipping your drink, "You could afford to stay there, can't you? But your parents refused because you selfishly and greedily usurped your trust fund to ridiculously splurge and waste it on unnecessary things. And then, you took, no, stole your brother's rainy day savings, to pay back the credit card debt you owed because your parents refused to pay for it. So now, you expect someone to pick up the pieces and help you out in maintaining your rich image, and you expect it to be me because I'm your friend?"

Your friend stayed quiet as you hit her with the harsh truth.

"That's all you ever expected from me. And the only reason why I agreed for us to be roommates was because your parents begged my mom since they can't trust you to not do stupid things."

"What are you trying—"

"What I'm trying to say is,” you interrupted, “You messed up your own opportunity at staying in the Magnolia on your own. You’re lucky your parents even considered paying your tuition. I have no interest in staying there and I won't be, and since you decided to become buddy-buddy with the most annoying group in this whole university, go along and join them, just remember don't come to me when they toss you to the side of the curb."

You got up from your seat and paid only for your drinks.

"Have a nice life." You announced dryly before walking away.

It had been a few days since the confrontation and you spent most of the time touring apartments. Your mom mentioned that your friend had already moved into the Magnolia with the group the day after you two had it out.

You weren't surprised to say the least.

But you were surprised by the lack of apartment complexes near university. Some were...concerning to say the least, and any promising ones were about a 15-20 minute walk to campus. You weighed your options and considered the good cardio you could get out of it. But the idea of walking during the blistering sunny days and the colder months made it unappealing very quickly.

However, just when you thought all hope was lost, your saving grace in the form of an old school friend walked through the café door one Friday afternoon.

While mindlessly circling possible apartments at the back of the café, you didn't notice a tall figure approaching you.

"Y/N?"

You jumped in surprise at the voice.

"Song?"

Lucas Song was a longtime friend from high school who shared the same computer period as you and was your partner in every assignment. He is trustworthy and dependable, and moved cities to pursue a course in Computer Studies which the university didn’t offer.

“It’s been a long time! How are you?”

As you engaged in small-talk, you happened to mention your current situation on a whim, not thinking much of it as you conversed. Immediately, Lucas happily jumped at the idea of showing you a room in his parents' apartment complex the Marigold.

The Marigold didn't compete with the Magnolia, it was an older complex that had been around for the last 15 years and was once known as the cosy, homely safe haven near campus. You completely forgot about its existence because its structure was compact and slightly-worn down, with the paint peeling slightly and the bleak garden of wilting roses and hydrangeas making it easy to pass straight. Not to mention, it always looked like it was under construction with huge piles of sand and gravel, and numerous bags of cement scattered nearby the entrance.

But you trusted Lucas and agreed to a viewing. And it was probably the best decision you made because you were mesmerised by the beautiful interior. The rooms were cosy, quaint and efficient with a communal living room area. Lucas conveyed that you would have to share the kitchen and living room with a few others. You weren’t opposed to it so promptly, you signed the lease.

But maybe you should have asked about your other roommates and how many of them there were.

Because on moving day, as you strolled in with your luggage into the living room, you were abruptly greeted by eight persons - all boys, some of them with their hair dishevelled and only in their underwear...while the others were covered in flour gaping at you with a shocked expression.

#ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #poly!ateez #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff

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sinner-sunflower · 1 month

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P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 11/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

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Lilith: Sign the papers, Lucifer.

Lucifer: Wha- Why?

Lilith: I don't think- This needs to end now. We both knew it won't last for all eternity.

Lucifer: Lily?

Lilith: I'm leaving.

Lucifer: Lilith, please! Talk to me! At least tell me why! How about Charlie! Our daughter, Lily!

Lilith: It’s just better this way. Believe me. You’ll understand someday. And she will too.

Lucifer: Is this because you’re afraid I'll overshadow and control you? That I'll hurt you like Adam did? Because I won’t. Lilith, please. I love you so much. I can step down! You can be the sole ruler of hell is that's what you want. Please.

Lilith: Stop this, Lucifer. Don’t make this harder than it is.

Lucifer: I.....can’t stop you, can't I?

Lilith: No.

Lucifer: I guess you’re the one doing the hurting this time. Is that what you’ve wanted all along?

Lilith doesn’t respond. She leaves.

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Lucifer awakens to the scent of Marigolds and the sound of strangled crying. He's vaguely aware of the weight of his body being cradled by someone, their tears falling onto his still form.

With a lot of effort on his part, he commands his vision to clear and the ringing in his ears to subside. Gradually, his surroundings comes into focus, revealing Charlie to be the one holding him, her face contorted with anguish that should never be present on his little girl's face.

'Who did that? Who made my Charlie cry?'

Her words tumble out in a frantic stream, but Lucifer struggles to respond, his voice caught in his throat. It dawns on him that Charlie isn't aware of his consciousness, her attention absorbed by her own distress.

Squinting against the haze of confusion, he realizes she's speaking to someone else entirely.

Charlie: A-angel hurry, please! I don't know what just happened. You're the number I- and I'm sorry please help me!

Lucifer can't hear what Angel was saying on the other end but they're muffled. Each unintelligible word seems to only worsen his daughter's tears, and oh, how he longs to comfort her.

Helplessness washes over him as he wishes to move, to reach out and wipe away his most precious' tears.

'That's what a good dad should do, right? Yeah. Yeah. It's kinda funny how Charlie is the one craddling me right now. I miss her baby days.'

He must have chuckled because Charlie whips her head down to him.

Charlie: Dad! You're awake! Thank you. You're okay, dad, don't worry. I- Angel, he's awake! I don't know! I just found him, oh god, Angel- I thought he-he-

There's frantic voices on the other line, the residents are all probably huddled in the phone attempting to calm Charlie down. Lucifer didn't get to hear what the overlapping voices were saying when the sanctuary's doors fly open revealing the radio demon.

Suddenly, the sanctuary's doors burst open, revealing Alastor. With a keen eye, he spots Lucifer and Charlie, and wasting no time before teleporting to their side in a blink, concern evident as he checks on them both.

Charlie: A-Al, thank god you're here. I- I

Alastor: My dear, you must calm yourself. Breathe.

Charlie: I can't!

Alastor: Yes you can. Count from a hundred backwards.

Charlie: 100, 99, 98.....80... I ca-can't please-

Charlie freezes as a gentle hand touches her cheek, prompting her to lower her gaze. With deliberate tenderness, he reaches for her hand, guiding it to his chest, positioning it over his heart. A silent reassurance pulses beneath her touch, the steady, calming rhythm of her father's heart.

Lucifer: I'm okay, duckie. Feel it. I'm okay. I'm breathing. I'm alive.

Charlie: D-dad.

Alastor: Match his breathing, dear.

After a minute, Charlie managed to calm down enough to form coherent sentences. She reiterates what she walked in on earlier and Lucifer is horrified. His daughter shouldn't have seen that but he's also berating himself. He knew that he shouldn't have told Keekee that Charlie could come. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID-

A snap of a finger stops the start of another spiral.

Alastor: None of that. We will have a talk about this but first, let us go back to the hotel for now. It must be uncomfortable laying on a frozen floor, no?

The King of Hell wants to say something but he knows there's no arguing with a fretting Alastor. Charlie is already outside on the phone again, most likely talking to whoever was at the hotel or maybe the Sins. He's hoping she doesn't call them right away; they're bigger worrywarts than him.

Charlie: -no no. He's fine now We're going to take him back to the hotel. Yes. Yes. Of course. Maybe in a few hours? Yes, I'll call you after we check him over. Yes. Thank you, Aunt Bel.

He yelps in surprise as the radio demon picks him up and holds him bridal style.

Lucifer: What the hell you doing??

Alastor: Why, carrying you, my love!

Lucifer: I can walk just fine.

Alastor raised an eyebrow at this then promptly dropped him.

Lucifer: Ow! What the fuck?!

Alastor: That does not look like standing. Perhaps it's opposite day today?

Lucifer all but growls but knows he's got him there. With a groan, he relents, deciding that he's going to be complain all the way back if he can help it.

Lucifer: Fine.

Alastor: What was that~?

Lucifer: I said fine! Carry me you tacky piece of shit!

He's pouting but he doesn't care. He's the King of Hell for Father's sake! Why is he letting this man bully him??

Alastor only smiles as he picked him up again. At least someone is enjoying this humiliation.

The way Alastor is holding him is doing something to him and had Alastor always been this handsome??

They meet Charlie outside already with one of their limousines. Thankfully, no reporters are camping anymore around the palace or this will be another big scandal that will most likely damage his image. Not that he cares what people in Hell think of him but whatever they they perceive him as extends to Charlie and he's not going to give them any ammunition on her.

Charlie: You sure you're alright, Dad?

Lucifer: Yes, sweetheart. I just want to be in a bed right now.

Alastor: I could always teleport you there, my dear. Would be faster than this death contraption.

Lucifer: I will throw up on you.

Alastor's eye twitches but doesn't say anything back. They sit in semi-comfortable silence the rest of the ride.

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Alastor: Charlie, why don't you talk to the others and your uncles and aunts about your father's condition? I'll take his majesty up in his room. I'm sure the last thing he needs is to be bombarded with questions at this time.

Charlie: You're right. Thanks, Al.

Charlie squeezed Lucifer's hand in a silent reassurance.

Charlie: I'll follow you later, Dad. Love you.

Oh, how he loves her so.

Lucifer: Okay, duckie.

He almost threw up when Alastor teleported them up to his tower but before he could, the sinner put up a lemon tea up on his face. Muttering a small thanks, the King of Hell took a few sips before deciding to lay down.

Alastor is still not interrogating him but maybe the other can smell his exhaustion. No. The guy did not talk at all. He only moved to sit by his side, leaning back to the headrest. Lucifer takes this as an invitation to hug the other's waist like a bolster and snuggles closer. The Sin of Pride feels his partner's hand combing through his hair and humming an old tune.

He's afraid of seeing Roo again as he tightens his hold on Alastor. The other doesn't even flinch and Lucifer is glad. Alastor usually doesn't like touch so whenever the other allows it, Lucifer savors every second.

Lucifer: I won't blame you, you know?

Alastor: Hmm?

Lucifer: If it's too much. If you wanna leave, you can.

The hand in his hair stops moving but Alastor still said nothing.

Lucifer: I'll remember you though.

Sleep is calling him. He only wishes that he'll dream of nothing this time.

Lucifer: I remember everyone that leaves.

He passes out not hearing Alastor reply, words laced with a genuinity no one else had the privilege to hear.

Alastor: I can assure you, my king, I am not one to give up what I adore that easily.

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I adore that Lilo and Stitch line. It really struck me when I first watched it.

YT also played this Hour of Joy VHS tape and that background tune really gave me inspiration on some future scenes. So, stay tuned.

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lousypotatoes · 25 days

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Everyone From The Place

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9

Song Recommendation:

Everybody Loves My Baby - Jack Palmer

Warning! This chapter had mentions of physical/mental abuse and panic attacks, and depictions of mental abuse. If any of these topics trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please read with caution.

90 years ago...

It had been about a month since Y/N and Alastor went out drinking together, the two of them going out every other day, whether it be getting drinks, getting dinner or lunch together, or just the two of them walking around New Orleans.

Y/N would never admit it to anyone, but she was absolutely head over heels in love with Alastor. The way he talked, the way he presented himself, how he was such a gentleman, she loved every part of him and so much more.

Alastor felt the same way about her, maybe even more. The way her face lit up whenever she talked about flowers or Honey, her sense of humor, the way she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She didn't know it, but she had Alastor wrapped around her finger.

And he loved every single second of it.

"That'll be three dollars, ma'am," Y/N said smiling, handing over the bouquet of lilies to the woman.

"Thank you, dear," the old woman smiled, handing Y/N money. "You have a lovely shop,"

"Well, thank you kindly," Y/N said. "I'm guessin' you're visitin' from outta town?"

"How did you know?" the woman asked.

"Every soul here in New Orleans has stepped foot in my shop at least once," Y/N said, handing the woman her change.

"For good reason," the woman said. "It's very impressive what you've done with the place. Not a lot of women can say that they own a thriving business. Especially during these trying times."

"Ah, I get that a lot," Y/N said. "Where you from anyway? If you don't mind me askin' of course."

"A small little town in Kansas," the woman said. "My daughter lives here and I'm visiting for her birthday."

"That's nice," Y/N gushed. "You tell her I said happy birthday. You have a good rest of your day ma'am."

"You as well, dear," the woman said as she walked out the door.

Y/N took the cash from the register and put it in the back room. While she was in there, she checked her schedule. She was glad that she didn't have to kill anyone that night. Even though she had been doing it for 15 years, the job left her exhausted and sleep deprived.

Who knew being an assassin was such hard work?

Walking out the backroom door, she saw a familiar face, looking at the arrange of flowers, holding a brown paper bag.

"What'll it be today Alastor?" Y/N said loudly, making him jump.

"Don't scare me like that, dear," he said, adjusting his coat. "I could of knocked over the flowers."

"You tip over any of them vases, you're payin' the bill," she laughed. "Besides, that was payback for all the times you've scared me."

"All right, all right," Alastor said, walking over to the counter. "I'll take these here marigolds."

"Marvelous pick," Y/N said. "That'll be four bucks,"

"How's business today?" Alastor asked, taking out money.

"Slow, but that's because no one wants to come outta their house, it's so hot out here," Y/N laughed. "How was the broadcast this morning? I didn't get the chance to listen to it."

"It went alright," he said, taking his change. "There were these women who kept trying to wriggle their way into the station, though."

"Seems like you have some mighty eager fans," she giggled. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh! I almost forgot! Thank you for reminding me," he said, handing her the brown bag. "I figured you wouldn't want to go out in this blistering heat, so I fetched you some lunch."

Y/N was touched. "You didn't have to do that, Al,"

"Yes, but I wanted to,"

Y/N reached into the bag. "Oh! You got me gumbo!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up in the way Alastor loved. "How'd you know?"

"I remember you telling me once," Alastor smiled.

"Thank you so much Alastor!" Y/N said. "Tell you what, tomorrow night, swing by my place and I'll whip up a batch of jambalaya for you."

Alastor's face turned red, the two of them had never been to each others house before. The only times were when Alastor would pick Y/N up for their outings together. Him only ever stepping foot in her living room.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N," Alastor said, covering his blushing face.

"Nonsense!" Y/N waved off. "It's the least I can do for you, fetchin' me lunch."

"Well, if you insist, my dear," Alastor said. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to make it to my-"

"-2'oclok broadcast. Yes I know," Y/N interrupted. "I know the routine by heart now."

Alastor smiled, taking Y/N's hand in his "I shall see you tomorrow then, Y/N." he said, kissing her knuckle.

"I'm lookin' forward to it already," Y/N blushed.

Looking at her face one more time, smiling gently to himself, he left the store.

When he left, Y/N started giggling to herself. She was so in love with him. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. She was so distracted that she didn't even hear the bell ring, signaling that a customer came in.

"Seems like you finally got this establishment up and runnin'," said a voice that made Y/N freeze, her eyes widening.

She turned and saw a man with wavy brown hair and cold eyes. Someone that made her blood freeze and goosebumps appear all over her skin. Someone that made her skin go pale and her breathing quicken. Someone that made her freeze in fear.

"What? So startled by my appearance that you're speechless?" the man smirked.

"W-What-" she stuttered, finding her voice. "What in God's name are you doin' here, Jasper?"

"Ain't I allowed to visit my fiancé at work?" Jasper said, coming closer to the counter.

"That was fifteen years ago!" she said, backing into the wall. "Me and you are nothin' now!"

"Just because I ended up behind bars doesn't mean we're finished,"

"That's exactly what that means!" she yelled. "You know you can't be within fifty feet of me. Now leave before I call the cops!"

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up a vase of carnations, admiring them.

CRASH!

Glass shards and flowers were scattered all over the floor.

"Oops," Jasper said.

"I mean it Jasper!" Y/N said. "Get the fuck out!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that again, you worthless bitch," he said, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Unless you want me to beat you to a bloody pulp, just like old times."

Y/N backed into the wall, lost for words.

For the first time in fifteen years, Y/N felt scared.

"Just go away, Jasper," she whispered. "Please. I don't want any trouble."

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up another vase and dropping it onto the floor.

Without another word, Jasper left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Y/N's body shut down, her having to grab onto the counter to support herself. She let out a sob she didn't even know she was holding in, her cries bouncing off the flower shop walls, and her tears streaming down her face.

After about ten minutes of this, she got out a broom, and started sweeping up the glass shards and flowers. After she was done, she leaned up against the wall. Looking up at the clock above her, she saw that it was only two-fifteen.

"I need a drink," she said, exhausted.

It was now five-thirty, Y/N was sitting at the bar, sipping on her fourth thing of whiskey.

As soon as she closed up the flower shop, she decided to walk to Mimzy's bar, not bothering to go home and change.

She was there for about thirty minutes. Mimzy had been over to check on Y/N during those, sensing that she wasn't okay. Y/N had told Mimzy she was alright and that she just wanted to be left alone. Mimzy listened and told her that her drinks were free for the rest of the time she was there.

Already deciding before she got there, Y/N didn't want to get blackout drunk, but just drunk enough to where she would forget her and Jasper's interaction.

Sipping on her whiskey, Y/N felt angry at herself. She could have shot that asshole right in his head if she wanted to, she was an assassin for crying out loud.

But Jasper was the one person she was genuinely afraid of.

"Why aren't you smiling, my dear?" said a voice from behind her. "You know you're never fully dressed without one."

"Hi, Alastor," she said, not even turning to look at him.

Alastor frowned, knowing that something was wrong.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, keeping her gaze on her glass. "I just had a bad interaction with a customer, that's all."

Alastor stayed silent as he sat down at the bar next to her.

"Would you like to me to keep you company?" he asked gently. "Or would you like me to leave?"

"Stay here," Y/N said, holding back tears. She felt pathetic. "Please."

"Alright then," he said.

"If I would have known you'd be here, I would have invited you," she said, sipping on her whiskey.

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear," he waved off. "I was already thinking about inviting you here anyways."

"Are you quite sure you're alright?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm quite sure," Y/N said.

"Well in that case," he said, getting up and offering her his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Y/N smiled before taking his hand.

"You always know the best things to say, Al,"

It was now nine-thirty. During those four hours at the bar, Isabell and Alastor had drank, danced, talked, laughed, and smoked. Isabell was glad that Alastor showed up randomly out of the blue. She always felt better when Alastor was close by.

Alastor didn't tell Y/N this, but Mimzy had actually called her, saying "You better get your fuckin' ass over here. Something ain't right with your girl."

As soon as he hung up the phone, he headed straight to Mimzy's bar.

Right now, Alastor was currently walking Y/N home, the two of them talking about his mother's jambalaya recipe.

"Think your ma would be willin' to share her recipe?" Y/N asked.

"I don't think she'd have an issue with it," he answered. "You'd have to meet her first."

"Oh, I would love to meet your ma!" she said. "Do you think she'd like me?"

"She already adores you, darling,"

"I'm guessin' you've talked to your ma about me then?" Y/N giggled seeing Alastor's blushing face.

"What's not to talk about?" Alastor replied, making Y/N's face turn red.

They reached Y/N's house, the two of them walking up to her front porch. They were facing each other, Y/N was looking up at Alastor, while Alastor was looking down at Y/N, the two of them so close together.

"Thank you for helpin' me take my mind off today, Al," she said, looking up at him in a way that made Alastor's breath get caught in his throat.

"It really wasn't a problem, dear, you don't have to thank me," he said. "If you need help with anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Are we still set for jambalaya tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world,"

It was quiet, the two of them not saying a word.

Oh, how desperately the two of them wanted to wrap their arms around each other and kiss until they had to break apart for air.

The air between them was thick, and heavy with tension.

Alastor's eyes flickered to Y/N's lips and back to her eyes.

"Y/N..." he swallowed hard. "May I...is it alright if I kiss you?"

"Yes," Y/N whispered. "It's alright."

As gentle as he possibly could, he lifted up her chin with his fingers.

Alastor hesitated for a moment, the look on his face asked 'Are you sure this is alright?'

Y/N nodded slowly and Alastor closed the gap between them, placing his lips on hers.

His lips were soft and warm and tasted like cinnamon. Just like everything else he did, his touch was gentle. It made Y/N feel like her heart was about to burst out of chest. Testing out the fields, she very slowly and shyly moved her hands to the back of his neck.

Alastor tensed up for a moment, but relaxed, moving his hands and placing them on her hips. The way their lips moved perfectly against each other made Alastor's heart melt. The way he was feeling in that moment, he was addicted to it like a drug and wanted more of it.

Like a starved man, Alastor craved Y/N's touch.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Oh, you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that, dear," Alastor breathed out, kissing her forehead.

"Oh, I think I do," Y/N said. "How about one more? To make up for lost time?"

"You read my mind," he laughed before placing his lips on hers once more.

THEY KISSED RAHHHHHHH

literally i am so happy

i wanna give alastor a big o'l kiss

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust

@trippoverrt

@slytherin4ever

@lucifers-silhouette

@a-small-tyrant

@mo-0-o

@cutiebimbo

@mommymilkers0526

@mikariell95

@al-of-the-stars

@martinys-world

@bibliophile-yomna

@mysticwitchcraftco

#character x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor altruist #alastor x reader #alastor altruist x reader

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sashaisready · 2 months

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I'm Still Here - Chapter One

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: references to martial issues, pregnancy

Wordcount: 1.3k

Your hand absentmindedly stroked the gentle swell of your belly as you gazed out of the window to the pristine front yard ahead. You were lost in thought, only half aware of the soft splashes of suds and water as they swallowed your marigold gloves. This window was your little entryway to the outside, the door to the rest of the world, all so close yet so far.

You watched Mrs. Darby walk her elderly dog across the street, right on schedule. She walked him every day at the same time. Frankly, you were amazed the little guy was still alive but Snickers the dog would probably outlive all of us. He moved so slowly it was as if he was barely walking at all. Still, Mrs. Darby had all the time in the world – her housekeeper kept the home, her gardener attended to her azaleas, Mr. Darby spent his retirement fishing, tinkering with their many cars and generally keeping out of his wife’s way – so what was an hour to walk the dog halfway up the street?

She spotted you at your post, as she always did, and gave you a wave. You waved back, a strained smile and a nod of your head. Same old, same old. She then began gesturing wildly, pointing downwards and grinning. You stared back blankly, clueless, until you realised she was gesturing to the bump. You gave her a smile and a nod, exaggeratedly rubbing your belly in response. Baby! Baby, yes! That’s all the neighbourhood hens ever wanted to talk about with you, baby baby baby. ‘How are you feeling, dear?’ ‘Oh, I hope your ankles aren’t too swollen’. You’d wear your smile like warpaint and nod in the right places. They seemed relieved when you started showing. At least now they could understand something about you. This universal experience. They understood you; you were one of them, no longer the Sheriff’s strange wife they couldn’t chitchat with at potlucks, no, they spoke this language. You were bearing children like they all had, maybe you were like them after all.

But you weren’t. And you knew that. And he knew it too.

Mrs. Darby waved again as she wandered out of view, poor Snickers limping behind.

You heard him upstairs then, his feet heavy on the floor above you as he charged across the bedroom. You rolled your eyes, he never gave himself enough time, even though he’d done this shift a million times over.

The clumsy thudding moved from the bedroom, across the hallway and finally down the stairs. He breezed into the kitchen slightly breathlessly. Everything was a little more of an effort these days, the evidence of which peeked from the bulge of his midriff. He really needed new uniform, but that would mean admitting he was bigger. And he wouldn’t do that. But your sewing skills could only achieve so much.

“Morning, honey” came his low drawl and he sat down.

You turned to face him as you pulled off your gloves, mindlessly picking up the plate of eggs and the steaming mug of coffee and placing them on the table.

“Morning” you replied.

You looked at him as he smiled weakly at you and thanked you for the breakfast. You didn’t look at him properly much at the moment, but you did then. You could see a glimpse of the Lee you loved so dearly, the sparkle of his crystal blue eyes, the line of his broad shoulders, the suggestion of his strong jawline – a little more hidden these days, but that was okay. He was still that wide eyed deputy you had fallen for all those years ago.

Even if that girl would be horrified by the life you lived now.

“I’m runnin’ late” he mumbled as he shovelled the eggs into his mouth. “Gotta meet with the deputies, then we gotta drive out to McGlade’s farm to talk him down – he keeps starting trouble with Denton about property lines. Always a delicate conversation when farmers are partial to having heated discussions while holding their shotguns…”

You nodded but knew this was a lie. He always included too many details about his day when he was lying. Not that he knew you’d picked up on this little tell of his, so you just smiled along like the dutiful wife. Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.

No doubt he’d be off doing something illegal, something corrupt or unsavoury on the side that he seemed to think you didn’t know about. Like he’d forgotten who you were, and where you came from.

“Mmm. Good luck” you replied as you wiped down the sink.

“And what are your plans?” he asked as he pushed the final breakfast remnants into his mouth.

“Gotta go to the market. Pick up some stuff for dinner. And the pantry needs restocking”.

“Call Denton and ask him to send a bag boy round” Lee said gruffly. “They can deliver”.

You rolled your eyes. “I can go to the market, Lee. I’m pregnant, not dying”.

“Honey…” he said warningly.

You turned to look at him. “Lee…I’m serious”.

“And so am I…”

You sighed and he stood up, putting his plate by the sink.

“My seven months pregnant wife shouldn’t be bustin’ her ass hauling heavy cans from the market” he cautioned, raising a finger to you. That was his signal that he wasn’t playing around.

You sighed, slumping against the counter. Part of you was tempted to carrying on provoking him as an argument would be the most the two of you had interacted in weeks…but you were tired. And as fun as it would be to make him explode before 9am, you didn’t know if you had it in you.

You shot him a hint of a smirk, a glimpse of the inner you, and he raised an eyebrow, almost daring you to continue.

“Fine” you huffed as you crossed your arms. “I’ll call them”.

He nodded and reached for his hat. “Good girl” he said quietly as he affixed it to his head.

You swallowed and almost felt the heat rise to your cheeks at that. It had been a while since he used that particular moniker. Back in the day he used to-

“Well…I’ll be goin’” his voice cut through your haze.

You nodded as your hand rubbed your bump. He looked at you and reached out. For a second you thought he was going to touch your stomach. He hadn’t really done that, not since it had started looking like a baby bump, anyway. You felt your breath hitch as you froze, too scared to move in case it stopped him.

His hand reached towards you, but he suddenly clamped it into a fist, withdrawing it quickly and shoving it into his pocket. He cleared his throat, the discomfort evident on his face.

You wanted to grab his hand and place it on your belly, hold him close and tell him it was okay. You can feel the baby. You can feel me. That’s your baby too. That’s little Bodecker. You wanted to kiss him and embrace him and tell him how much you missed him. That even though you slept inches away from him every night the gulf between you felt insurmountable and endless. Ask him when exactly the two of you become roommates. Strangers. Why did the baby change everything? Yeah, he cared. He said all the right things, but it felt he was going through the motions. Doing his duty in life just as he did at work. You didn’t want to end up like Mr and Mrs Darby, cordial and pleasant but sleeping in separate single beds. You wanted to scream that even though you weren’t actually fighting, you might as well be. That you barely felt like husband and wife, and you wanted him back. You wanted your Lee back. Deputy Lee who-

But then you heard the front door, and he was gone.

You sighed, sinking into a chair.

“Just you and me, little one” you told your bump gently. “Whatever happens, it’s you and me”.

#lee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader #im still here fic

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

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Hello! Just wanted to request if you can do another Mordecai and Reader. Maybe like a part 3 lmao cause I'm kinda curious on how his relationship with reader will progress after Atlas's death and he joins the Marigold gang. Will he leave and watch over them from afar (basically murder anyone who does anything to them) cause he now feel even less deserving of their relationship? Or will they be like a double agent couple who pretends to join the marigold gang just to learn the truth of Atlas's death. Really just wanna see this murder cat double down on the protective instinct especially when the Savoys are involved. Like, I can see Mordecai practically growling at then lmao. Thank you!

Yes YES part 3.... I still keep thinking about this.... Continuation of Part 1 and Part 2, PLUS all the stuff surrounding Atlas' death and afterward.... GN reader, angst ahoy!

So, uh. cute things first, yes?

After years of this slow build-up and burn, and you two are finally Something Of an Item (tm), you might slip up and be a little physically close and affectionate in front of others. Mordecai will never talk about it, so anyone with suspicions would have to go to you with questions (and really, that's only Mitzi because she's been invested in this for a while). Because your partner is so private, it's probably best not to get into details. If he could blush he'd be burning red when Mitzi pats his shoulder and says she's so happy he found such a good person.

If you have a fur pattern that's aysmmetrical, or have odd-eyes, birth marks/beauty marks or just. Any really distinct appearance like that, sometimes Mordecai just stares. At first, years back, it was a stare of annoyance. Now that you're closer it's still intense, just, uh ... a different kind of intense. Unfortunately while most people have a cute doe-eyed look when looking at their partner, Mordecai's is consistently a little creepy. Oh well. He gets easily flustered when you look right back and stare him down, though.

He's never really celebrated his birthday, especially once he fled New York city. Once you figure it out, you won't make a big deal of it, but you do get him a nice meal and something practical he'd enjoy. A new pair of gloves, a nice plant, good quality shoes, something like that. It's a little present that he isn't sure how to react to at first. After doing it year after year, he finally accepts them with quiet appreciation and will do something similar for your birthday. His gifts are much the same, practical, well-made and simple. He prefers to leave them at your apartment rather than give them face to face.

When he gets into his wound up and irritated moods (probably something Viktor said), all you need to do is sit next to him and rub your face lightly against his, or just put your head on his shoulder to settle him down. Mordecai outright deflates, and struggles to hold onto that anger. You can only get away with this once you both are romantically attached and, seriously, you are the only one apart from maybe his sisters (who you probably don't even know about). This is a culmination of years of trust slowly building up; now he can finally start to show shreds of vulnerability.

(Tho if you purr on him he's going to get SO embarrassed he just shoots up and walks away and you flop back on the couch).

As much as you make him lose his composure, he's just as good as giving it back, though totally unaware of it. There's the rather intense staring as mention before, but Mordecai may also just grab your shoulders to keep you still as he adjusts some of your clothes. He's ... surprisingly strong when he wants to be. When you're both on a job with guns drawn, he has a habit of standing in front of you or jumping in front once trouble starts. When you're wounded he sits you right in front of him so he can bandage it up and do what he can and, yes, he will drag you to Elsa even though he's an absurdly difficult patient with her. She tells him as much.

(And he waits right by your side as you slowly wake up from the morphine).

Also ... if you're a lighter-haired cat, esp a long-haired one, he starts finding your hair all over his damn clothes and there is. Not enough lint brushes in the world. Love the mental image of him and Atlas having a discussion, when Atlas just reaches over and pulls off a long, lighter-colored hair off Mordecai's normally impeccable black coat.

Intimacy will still be tough; you almost have to walk him through it. He isn't ignorant of the mechanics, he just dislikes the whole ... business of it. Mordecai will do a little for your sake, and again, it's a lot of building up and easing him to be more comfortable with prolonged touching and intimacy. It's tough to say if this is easier depending on your gender, but regardless, he has to be the one whose more in control and setting the pace (even if you're encouraging him along). And of course, plenty of reassuring that you two can stop at any time.

(This has been stated many times before, but you are the exception. The thought of him being this close and vulnerable and intimate with anyone else makes him nauseous.)

Afterward he almost seems small and skittish in his tall body. Mordecai always has to shower and clean immediately, though it's no insult to you (and he doesn't mind if you join, though he gets very quite and embarrassed). He's just repulsed by filth and sweat in general; you know this, once he's washed up he's a lot more relaxed and even willing to cuddle for a while.

The first few times he had to remember the last time he'd been so close to someone, or even hugged them this long. The best he can remember is when he had to share a bed (more of a mattress) with his sisters when they first came to New York. Rose was still a baby and always cold, while Esther was scared of the noise of cars in the street and rats in the wall. The three kittens would pile up together and tremble until they fell asleep; sometimes their mother would join them, exhausted from work and cold herself. Even when they moved into a slightly less dilapidated apartment, his sisters would sleep in his bed during the frigid winters.

So it while it may surprise you that Mordecai is so close and clingy in his sleep, to him being that close is a very comforting warmth and sense of nostalgia. It's a toss-up with whose the big spoon. This is also one of the only times you'll hear him purr; it's quiet and only lasts a few minutes before he drifts off. Because he wakes up at the crack of dawn, you rarely get to see him sleeping unless you stay up after he falls asleep.

So ... moving onto the whole. Atlas business.

When it all goes down, well. He considered Viktor a good friend, and that friend ended up kneecapped so Mordecai wouldn't have to cross guns with him. An incentive to leave the life that was ruining them. Make no mistake, Mordecai would - while still bloody - warn you about leaving, too. He'd raise his gun at you, hoping the scare would be enough, knowing each second he does is actively tearing down the closest thing to a "other half" he had. His green eyes are cold and frighteing but mentally he is the one begging you to just listen to him and run. Don't make call his bluff, because he can't do it. The very closest he'd get is if you actually tried to stop him, or tried to talk him down, or took the gun - and the nerves would snap, and he'd give a warning shot. A piece of your ear is torn off, and there's a ringing in your head. It could've been your head; he's an excellent shot. He only missed because he wanted to.

It was a warning, but even that makes his hands shake. He's in disbelief that he did it. It was a sort of out of body experience when he shot Viktor, but for this he is vividly, painfully awake. Mordecai retreats from there, unable to make himself do anything else, hoping that's enough to destroy any shred of love you had.

If you stick around with Lackadaisy ...

Well. You and Viktor have a sort of ... awkward, unhealthy bond of being betrayed, with one of you having paid far more dearly than the other... though one could argue while he paid physically, you're paying in feeling like a piece of your heart was ripped out. You wouldn't be blamed for thinking he holds some resentment toward you, but that isn't the case at all. He feels sorry for you, and anger toward Moredcai for what he did to the two of you. There's still the resignation and guilt, but it's tinged with far more anger. Mitzi thanks god one of her best triggermen is still in good form, although - well, you're a little ... different than before. Your hearing still hasn't recovered from that shot, she knows, and the stitch-job wasn't ... the best.

The real problem is when - not if - you and Mordecai ever cross guns again. Mitzi is terrified of that inevitability, and to be fair, Mordecai does his utmost to avoid it. He wants no confrontation, not ever. If you two ever meet again, it's painfully obvious he wants to escape. For many nights, he thought you may hunt him down and shoot him - he'd deserve that much. As much as he's obsessed with the truth behind Atlus' death, if you chose to stop him dead in his tracks, wouldn't he deserve it?

If you left Lackadaisy, all the better. Mordecai may never hear from you again, and he tells himself that's for the best, even if there's a hole where his heart used to be. His mother, his sisters, you, Viktor, Mitzi, Atlas - he's failed many, many people. This is a new feeling, an emptiness, and that is what goads his frantic investigation on what truly happened to Atlas. It may be the only thing he has left.

Regardless if you stay or leave, Mordecai is more irritable and cold to those who knew him before ... though, considering he cut ties, that isn't many. He's a little thinner, and doesn't sleep as well. Asa Sweet couldn't tell the difference, and while the Savoy siblings can tell something isn't quite right, they don't know the history. They've heard stories and rumors, sure. Perhaps Serafine even hears a morsel of some former Lackadaisy gunman he was chummy with... it's all so intriguing. The first time she brought it up, he gave her such a venomous look that it only encouraged her curiosity.

Asa brought you up one time when talking with Mordecai, and holy shit he's never joking about that again. He broke into a sweat.

(Hell, even Mitzi tried to bring you up when she and Mordecai had that private conversation in her car. He shut her down so coldly, it frightened her.)

And yes, that means if you're still doing Lackadaisy operations with Rocky and Freckle, he has to hear about it. He's in the room when Asa gives the order to the Savoy siblings going after you, or worse, if Mordecai is brought onto the job. He makes it clear that he'll take care of you, and they can deal with the rest. Although it always seems like you're able to get away before it comes to that ...

If you two ever had to meet again for an extended period of time, yeah, the ... year of isolation and guilt and hurt (it feels like its been five years) is just palpable. Serafine and Niko quickly piece together that there was some serious history, more than they initially thought ...

Remember those silly photos Mitzi took, and she shared? Maybe you threw your's away, or lost them, but ... Mordecai keeps one in his wallet. If he anticipates trouble (as it always is with the goddamn Savoys), he moves it to his bedside for safekeeping. He's careful about preserving it. The corners are already starting to wear. There's fleeting thoughts of putting it in a picture frame, but - no, that'll just draw attention to it, and what right does he have to keep a photo of someone who hates him? When he thinks of you, he feels that picture burning a hole in his breastpocket. Any photos that have the two of you - even the blurry, distant ones Mitzi took while trying to get used to her camera- he blotted ink on himself, leaving only you there. Back when you had a smile.

Long story short, he's a mess. He's mentally frayed and physically he's not doing great; you're probably just the same. Mitzi worries about your health often, Rocky knows that some days he just shouldn't talk to you. Ivy remembers when she used to chatter away with Viktor, Mordecai and you, but she knows she can't bring those days up anymore. There may even be an odd wall between you two, whereas before you often spoiled and doted on the little Ivy.

There are probably moments in the past year where Mordecai just ... something gets ahold of him, and he goes out to where you live - if you left the city entirely, this would be difficult, but if you were still in St. Louis or stayed with the Little Daisy - he'd just stand out in the street where your home is, feeling incredibly creepy and exposed. Debating if he should write a letter, or leave something or - no, he shoots all those ideas down. He doesn't know if he stays a few minutes or an hour, but eventually the nerves get the better of him and he hurries away, feeling like a rat.

Well, you two were like peas in a pod for years ... it was a bond that neither of you had before, so it makes sense that just a year isn't enough to heal or repair much of it ...

#sorry to end on that note but YANNO how it be #mordecai heller x reader #lackadaisy x reader

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coco-bee · 7 days

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COCO'S REVIEW: LACKADAISY INGENUE (Ft. @thesilliestofallqueers)

Welcome to Coco’s Review! Where I review and breakdown episodes, movies and etc and overthink every tiny detail :D

Today I'm discussing Lackadaiy Ingenue (ft.Robin)

Yes I’m a fan of Lackadaisy! I haven’t been there since the start BUT I have been following the series ever since the animated pilot- I’ve also read a handful of the comics but I wasn’t able to read everything. But I have a good idea of the characters and their lore. I’m very happy to revisit this series through Lackadaisy Ingenue! So to start things off I want to define what ‘Ingenue’ means for those who don’t know (like I did). According to google, “An Ingenue is an innocent or unsophisticated young woman, especially in a play or film.” which makes a lot of sense since this short focuses on Ivy when she was a little kitten (I’m assuming she’s around 6-9 here), and I guess this short technically counts as a film. New word to add to your vocabulary ✨ So the short opens with Ivy’s father, Reuben Peppers showing off a car to Atlas (who is confirmed to be Ivy’s godfather in the description). Btw Reuben sounds INCREDIBLY young in my opinion, I didn’t even think he was her father- I thought he was her older brother or something but nope, that’s her dad. Confirmed in the description!

We aren’t even a minute in and I’m already asking questions- mostly with how close Ivy and Reuben are. With “I like it when it’s just you and me”, it got me confused since it IS just them traveling. I’m going to assume maybe she prefers private trips with her father over using public transportation where others can hear their conversations. Which really shows how close they probably are if Ivy really enjoys one-on-one time with him.

So as Reuben greets Mitzi, Atlas, Viktor and “Joe”. Reuben and Mitzi have an interesting conversation… “What happened to New Years?” “It’s Effie, she's uh.. We’ll talk later” The look Reuben gives Ivy might imply that “Effie” is Ivy’s mother or just a relative of the Pepper family since Reuben doesn’t want to talk about it with Ivy listening. But that's just me- So that’s totally not suspicious :D

I also just want to mention the nice hug Atlas and Reuben have- it really does seem like they’re very close. Which is probably why Atlas is Ivy’s godfather- Atlas seems pretty comfortable around Reuben too! From what I can tell Atlas was more of a “show more, talk less” kinda guy but that’s maybe because this is my first real introduction to him before he died (lmk if he appears in a flashback in the comics). He doesn’t have any lines in this episode too so I just thought that’d be interesting to point out. And that's why I came to that conclusion.

Upnext is Ivy meeting Mordecai for the first time I’m assuming. So this seems to take place when Mordecai used to work with Lackadaisy before switching to Marigold. This also confirms that he was the bookkeeper for the daisy cafe to which if you don’t know- a bookkeeper oversees a company's financial data and compliance by maintaining accurate books on accounts payable and receivable, payroll, and daily financial entries and reconciliations. They basically take care of the finances of the cafe. This scene also highlights the gun Mordecai was trying to hide, which I guess adds more evidence for Ivy to what these people actually do for a living. In the description it seems that Ivy is not very aware of what her father does for work. At least at the time. Mordecai having a gun despite being “just” a bookkeeper gives her an idea of what they might actually do other than running a cafe.

Also the “I subtract numbers too” line is fucking hilarious I’m sorry 😭 Now we have the scene where Ivy and Viktor’s bond seems to have started! I would eat up their interactions in the comics istg I LOVE THEM<33 Victor becoming that one chill uncle

Viktor lying about how Mordecai broke his arm is fucking hilarious too- I’m now requesting a short comic of Mordecai trying to rollerskate but failing miserably! ANYONE PLEASE- TAG ME IF YOU DO THAT (Rob ik youre an artist pls /j)

I don’t have a lot to say about this scene- I just love Ivy and Viktor’s dynamic smm! I gotta talk abt them in one of my Dynamic Duos episodes! (getting ready to go through so many comics) After their interaction Ivy notices a broken car door with bullet holes on it. It looks very similar to the door Viktor was replacing while he and Ivy were talking. That’s when Ivy pieced it together, Mordecai’s gun and the bullet holes? Yeah it became obvious to her that these guys are criminals-

You can tell that was her conclusion with her asking Viktor directly if they were robbers or gangsters while also assuring that the secret is safe with her!

I’d just end my breakdown here BUT YOU SAW THE TITLE! I would like to welcome my first guest ROBIN!!! Aka TheSilliestofallQueers :D I wanted to bring them in because they know more about the extensive lore of Lackadaisy so I feel like this’d be a perfect time to have them featured! SO I GIVE THE FLOOR TO ROBIN!!

HELLO YES THIS IS ROBIN!! (@thesilliestofallqueers)

I’m not as obsessed with Lackadaisy as I used to be back when the animated pilot was just released (I had a friend who got me into it, thank you for that Breezy) but I still know quite a bit so I’ll be putting a few footnotes to this already extensive deep dive into the animated short

Apologies in advance but this is just going to be me analyzing / ranting about Viktor and Ivy’s interactions since Coco didn’t!! (ITS SPELLED WITH A K?? -Coco fixing her typos) (YEAH ITS VIKTOR LMFAOOAOAOAO -Rob) Now first of all, I found it so endearing that Viktor almost immediately warms up to Ivy and starts joking with her / trying to cover up what they actually do with lighthearted / white lies.

As someone who has read the comics I always knew Viktor was fiercely protective of Ivy (He beat up her exes because he thought they were no good lol) but Ivy almost always responded to this by being annoyed with Viktor (specifically in the instance of the ex boyfriends, she got mad at Viktor for it)

So seeing her as a kid getting along with Viktor so well was refreshing and sweet (Also this short implies that these mfs are OLD AS HELL -Coco) (YEAH IT DO DUNNIT LMFAOAOAO -Robbobin)

Now they keep getting along until Viktor suddenly tells Ivy that she shouldn’t be there in the middle of her telling a joke, and you can SEE his expression shift from fond to worried as I guess he realizes that if he keeps being nice to her, she’ll want to stick around. Therefore putting her in more danger than if she was kept away

He slams the car door as he yells at her to go, and she does, but not before giving him one last angry look because dude WHAT THE FUCKK WE WERE SO CHILL LIKE 5 SECONDS AGO

And then Coco details the rest of what happened

SORRY IF MY PORTION WAS SHORT I JUST WANTED TO EXPAND ON WHAT COCO DIDNT LMFAOOAOA (also there wasn’t much to go off of since it was short + coco covered most of it in detail already) THANK YOU ROB FOR YOUR INPUT!! Tbh I was struggling with finding words for Viktor and Ivy’s scene so thankfully Rob did the job! Please go follow Rob on their page! And that concludes our breakdown of Lackadaisy Ingenue :D Huge respect to Tracy Butler and her team for their amazing work on this because the animation is GORGEOUS and the storytelling is super clever! I’m so excited to cover the future episodes of the series when it eventually comes out !!

This is Coco and Robin typing... thank you for reading!

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy ivy #lackadaisy viktor #lackadaisy mitzi #lackadaisy atlas #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy ingenue #tracy j butler #iron circus animation

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fangirlfrom-hell · 7 months

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Marigolds: A Day of the Dead Story || Jay Halstead x Halstead sister

It could have turned out better, but many inconveniences occurred that made me finish writing hastily. Anyway, I wanted to share it. Might end up delating it, though.

You'll find some songs to armonize this story at the end of the post.

"So, what's the name of this girl, again?" Jay asked from the kitchen while he was cooking dinner.

Sitting on the living room floor, her eyes fixed on the papers and books scattered across the coffee table, Becca replied slowly and deliberately, trying to pronounce each sound correctly, "Ca-ta-li-na."

"Catalina," he muttered to himself, then turned back to his sister. "I don't remember her."

"Yeah, that's because she's new at school. I think her family just moved to Chicago."

"Hmm," Jay hesitated, "Don't you prefer to invite them over here?"

"No."

"I can bring paperwork home. Your friends have been here before," he continued, trying to persuade her.

"Nope. We decided to go to her house because her mom still doesn't know how to move around the city."

Becca left the pen she was writing with, turned to face her brother, and asked, "Is there a problem?"

"Well, kind of. I don't know her or her family at all. Where does she live, again?"

Becca smiled. "I guess you never stop being a cop."

"Hey!" the detective shot back, "I'm just looking out for you. Any other parent, or big brother in this case, would do the same," he winked.

"Yeah, yeah," she went back to her homework.

The siblings sat comfortably in front of the TV: Jay with his feet on the coffee table, and Becca with her legs crossed on the sofa. Both had their plates on their laps, having dinner while catching up with their favorite crime show.

"That would never happen!" Jay would exclaim from time to time, to which Becca would simply roll her eyes.

This was a typical evening for them, unless Will was there to scold them for not eating at the table "like civilized people," as he would say.

"Okay, you can go to your friend's house, only because it's for homework," Jay said as the ending credits of the show rolled.

"Thanks, I guess?"

"...but I'll drive you there."

"Fine."

"...and I will walk you to the door. I want to meet her mom and take a look at the place where you're staying."

"Jay–"

"Don't you dare make that face at me, Becca Marie!" He pointed at her with his finger.

"Ugh, whatever you want. It's your time to waste, anyway."

The next day after school, Becca had to spend some time at the 21st district before her brother could take her to Catalina's home.

"This should be the house," Jay called his sister before she got out of the truk. "Hey, if anything happens, if you just feel uncomfortable, give me a call, and I'll pick you up, okay? Anything, even if you think it's nonsense."

"Yes, detective," Becca turned her eyes, mocking him.

But Jay was serious. "I mean it." As he had warned, he got out of the car to walk her to the entrance.

After a few knocks, a girl about the same age as Becca opened the door, and a delicious smell wafted out of the house, something they had never smelled before.

At the same time, a voice came from the back part of the house, "Cata, who is it?" But before the girl could answer, a woman hurriedly approached the entrance, drying her hands with a kitchen towel, making it obvious that she had interrupted something because of their arrival. That's how Jay met Mrs. Aragón, Catalina's mother, and as both adults stayed there talking, the girls ran upstairs.

"It smells delicious," Becca couldn't help but point out.

"Yes," Catalina answered proudly, "My mom is baking…", but suddenly she seemed to be ashamed of something.

"What?"

"Nothing," she ended the conversation by opening the door to her room, where two other girls were already working on their school assignment.

It didn't take them long to finish their homework, and as they were waiting for their moms to pick them up, they chatted and laughed. Becca sent a text to let Jay know she was done, to which he immediately answered with "Give me five minutes," and she knew very well that those 5 minutes could turn into 5 hours. Everything was going well until all the other girls had left, and Becca remained alone.

"Becc, do you need a ride?" one of the moms offered, "I can take you, that's all right, honey."

"Thank you! But my brother will come for me," she replied. She didn't like it when that happened, and it was quite often. She knew all the other moms looked at her with pity, as if she was abandoned, which wasn't true. It was just that she didn't have a full-time mom to drive her around whenever it was needed. Jay did his best to take care of her.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Mrs. Aragón asked Becca.

"Uh, I don't think so. My brother should be here any minute," she instinctively checked her phone.

"Don't worry," her smile was warm, and her voice soothing, "You can stay here as long as you need, no pasa nada," the woman continued when she noticed the girl looking at the clock. "It's getting late, so I'll prepare a plate for you, just in case."

Then, she received a call from Jay, whose tone was anguished.

"I'm so sorry, Becc. I got stuck at the district; I can't leave right now. Ask your friend if you can stay a little bit longer," he said the sentence, but then regretted it, knowing how nervous his sister was. He knew she must be uncomfortable being alone in a new house with new people. He also thought about how the other moms would have seen her being left behind, a thing that he also hated.

"Okay, let me just ask…" The truth was that she was feeling pretty welcome and cozy with the Aragóns.

"No, you know what? I'll send a patrol to pick you up and bring you here."

"A patro–? Jay, no way, don't you dare. It's alright, I can stay here a bit more. They invited me to have dinner, so…" She turned to see her new friend, who nodded in approval.

There was a bit of silence on the other side of the line, then a deep sigh, "Do you want to?" Becca didn't like eating in other places or in front of strangers; it made her anxious, so it was odd how she was managing the situation.

"I'm fine."

With one last "sorry," the call ended.

"We can wait in my room," Catalina invited her as she walked to the stairs. When they were passing by the living room, something caught Becca's attention, and she stopped to peek her head, as if she were drawn to it.

"Wait, what is that?" She was looking at a tall structure covered with white and black tablecloths, decorated with colorful skulls, pictures, and a lot of orange flowers.

"Ah, that's our altar for Day of the Dead," her friend answered as if it were the most natural thing, then took her hand, feeling a little bit rushed to take her out of there. "Come on."

Her attempt was useless, for Becca couldn't take her eyes off it. "May I see it closer?"

"Uh, sure! If that's what you want." It was a strange request. "It's still in progress, but it's almost done," she explained as they approached.

"We're only missing the food," Mrs. Aragón entered the room with a tray of bread, "But that's for the actual day they are coming."

"Who's coming?" Becca frowned.

"The deceased," the woman said simply. Catalina turned to meet her guest's gaze a bit embarrassed, trying to read Becca's thoughts on the matter. As she had learned in her short life, you couldn't give an explanation like that to people, as they usually got scared. To her surprise, Becca was not like every other person.

"Oh, how does that work?" The girl asked nervously.

"Well, Day of the Dead is the day when the deceased come back to Earth to visit their loved ones, the ones they left behind, us the living. That's why we build these offerings for them. It's filled with their favorite foods and beverages so they can have what they used to enjoy when they were alive."

Feeling a bit more secure, Catalina continued, "Also, because they come from a place far away and it's a tiring trip, so they rest here before going back."

"That's right," her mom said proudly.

"It's beautiful, so colorful. I really love it," Becca commented.

"Thank you. We're doing what we can with what we have. Now…" she placed the tray on the altar, "Take one and tell me if it's good" she offered both girls.

"So, this is why it smelled so delicious," Becca said as she inspected the piece of bread, "I've never seen this type of bread before." It was light and fluffy, glazed with sugar and some stange shapes on top of it.

"It's pan de muerto," Catalina said with her mouth half full. "I won't translate it or explain the meaning of it because you might refuse to eat it. Just taste it." She took another bite.

"Oh, this is really delicious."

"I couldn't find any good pan de muerto in the city, so I had to bake it myself."

"Are these your grandparents?" Becca pointed to the pictures.

"Yeah. We put their pictures so they know we still remember them. As we say "Solamente muere el que ha sido olvidado."

"Only those who had been forgotten die" Catalina translated.

Becca kept silent, thinking about her mom, and she mentally ran through Jay's apartment, realizing there were no pictures of her around.

"But isn't it a bit scary? The idea of dead people visiting you?"

Catalina reacted with a smile, "Oh, no. What I would give to hug my granny one more time."

Becca connected that idea to her own mother, and her eyes became watery. A wave of emotions washed over her, and the atmosphere in the room intensified her sensitivity. She had felt empty spaces in her chest before, but never like this – it was like a black hole that opened up within her. Catalina noticed her distress and became concerned that they might have shared too much information and made her feel uncomfortable.

But Mrs. Aragón knew better and warmly smirked, "You're thinking of someone, right?"

"My mommy," Becca answered simply, her voice trembling and a lump forming in her throat. She couldn't hold back the silent tears that welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. The gaze of four concerned eyes bore into her, and she despised being the center of attention. So she wiped away her tears, acting as if everything was normal.

"I'm so sorry," Mrs. Aragón said as she hugged her by the shoulder. That gesture eased the girl's emotions.

"Oh, but it's okay, don't worry. It happened a few years ago."

"You know what? If you feel like it, you can bring your mommy's photograph to our altar..."

"Mamá..." Catalina scolded her, not knowing how the other girl would react.

"We can make some space for her," she said, pointing to a spot on the offering, imagining how she could rearrange everything to make room for the newly invited one.

"Mom!" She was concerned that she might scare Becca.

"...We'd be glad to have her here.”

Becca hesitated, she was pulled into the idea, but at the same time she felt as an intruder, "But I'm not even Mexican, and I don't want to be a bother, everything is already settled."

"Doesn't matter,” the woman put her hands on her waist, “Everybody's welcome to join if they want to, regardless of their nationality or religion. And you are not a bother, we would only have to move one or two things.”

“Besides, I’m pretty sure my grandparents would love to have a new friend around,” Catalina added, still with a bit of embarrasement in her voice.

Becca bit her lip and, after a few seconds, she nodded, “Yeah, I would like to.” Her words hinted at the deep need to keep her mother's memory alive.

As soon as they arrived home, Becca opened each drawer on the living room furniture and took out every album, looking for the picture.

"What are you looking for?" Jay asked, noticing how stressed she was getting.

“Don’t we have a picture of Mom?” There was a hint of anger in her tone. Her brother felt his blood run cold, for their mother was still a sensitive topic to discuss. He had been the one to deal with her throughout her illness and had to witness her during her worst moments.

“Of course, we have,” he managed to keep calmed as he approached to open one specific drawer, and take a cardboard box from it. “There should be some here.”

Catalina’s mom's words came to Becca’s mind: Only those who are forgotten die. A wave of unease washed over her, causing her stomach to churn with a mix of anxiety and contemplation.

“Why are Mom’s pictures inside of a box inside of a drawer?”

Jay shrugged, not really understanding what was going on. “I keep them here. They are safe in this place.”

“There are no reminders of Mom around in any place in this apartment. Not even at Will’s house". She exploded, "It’s as if we never think about her anymore. Only Dad has framed photos, but he never wants to even mention her.”

"What are you talking about? We always talk about Mom."

"No, that's not true," she said with a calmer tone, but her eyes welled up with tears once more. "You rarely speak about her. Whenever someone mentions her, you change the subject. I understand that her memory brings you pain, which is why I avoid talking about her. But sometimes, I wish I could ask about her, to learn things about her that I never got the chance to know." For a long time, she had managed to keep all these feelings locked inside of her, but the experience of this afternoon had stirred everything within her.

Jay stood still with the box in his hands, silent and carefully listening to his little sister’s words. A bit more relaxed, she sat on the sofa.

“I’ve never said this before, but it really makes me angry that I didn’t get to really know her. It’s not fair that I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as you and Will. Sometimes I get scared I might forget her face, her voice.”

Jay sat by her side and stayed silent for a couple of minutes, trying to organize his thoughts before speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “You are right. I won’t explain anything to you, but Mom hurts me in a way you wouldn’t understand, and before you say something, I know you are carrying your own pain, a pain you shouldn’t know of. Believe me when I tell you I’ve done everything in my power to try to protect you from it, but it looks like I’ve failed. It’s hard for me to deal with these emotions, and I probably dragged you into my own turmoil. Even when I was aware that our pain was different, I never thought you felt like this. It never crossed my mind how much you wished, how much you needed to construct mom in your mind. And I’m really sorry.” His words were heavy with the weight of his own grief, understanding the depth of Becca's longing for their mother.

“I don’t want to forget her. I’m so scared I’m gonna forget her.”

“You won't, and I’ll make sure of that.”

“Promise me we can talk about her.”

“Anytime you want, I'll work it out,” He hugged her tightly, the box still on his lap. It was only when they separated that Becca noticed her brother was crying too.

“Where did all this come from, anyway?” Jay inquired. “Why do you need the picture?”

Becca settled on the sofa, turning her face and body towards her brother. “Promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“Never.”

“Okay. Today I saw an offering for Day of the Dead at Cata’s home. It was beautiful, Jay, so colorful and full of…life. They explained to me about the tradition, that the spirits of your loved ones come down to visit you on Earth for a day, and her mother invited me to put Mom’s picture on their altar. She said she’s very welcome to join them.”

“Beccs…”

“No, sssh, wait! Catalina said something that stayed in my mind. She said that, whether it's true or not that they come back, however you see it, this day is a good opportunity to remember and honor the ones that are gone.”

Jay hesitated, “I admit this sounds like a beautiful tradition, but...do you really want to do it?”

“I have no doubt.”

"Fine. In that case…" he finally opened the box, "I think I have the perfect picture," he searched for a specific one among the others and finally took it out, "Here."

Becca got as close as she could to her brother, hugging his arm. They stayed in that position for a while, looking at their mother.

“She was beautiful,” Becca muttered, “You were right, this one’s perfect.”

“We can go out to find a frame tomorrow.”

“I like that. There’s something else we need.”

Jay raised a brow, looking at his sister, “What?”

“What was Mom's favorite food?”

It was November 1st, already evening when the two Halstead siblings arrived at the Aragón's house. Somehow, Becca had managed to convince Jay to accompany her, not just drop her off. He agreed after all her insistence, thinking it might end up being something good for his sister. Anyway, he could deal with his own demons later.

“Here we are,” he said. “You sure you want to do this?”

The girl just nodded, noticeably nervous.

“You know, it’s alright if you don’t like it in the end, if you feel uncomfortable, tell me, and I’ll find a way for us to leave.”

“Yeah, you too,” she told him back. “I don’t want us to stay long, anyway. I wouldn’t like to interfere so much with their customs.”

When Mrs. Aragón opened the door, she saw Jay holding a small food dish and Becca hugging a frame that was facing backward, hiding her mother’s picture from the sight of the others around. She greeted them.

“I’m so glad you came,” her words were full of sincerity. She gave the girl a long and tender hug, which Jay noted to be very maternal. He liked the way they treated her.

“Is this the offering for your mother?” The woman asked, taking the dish from Jay’s hands.

“I guess it is,” the detective answered as they entered.

“Perfect, let’s go put it in its place, then,” her smile was so warm it could melt the poles.

As they entered the living room, a very particular smell became stronger, and they found Catalina lighting all of the incense around the altar.

“It is copal,” Mrs. Aragón explained when she noticed Jay sniffing. “It’s used to cleanse the place of evil spirits so that the souls can enter without any danger.”

The Halstead siblings instinctively turned to see each other.

“Ma, you are going to scare them,” Cata said, “It’s all safe, don’t worry,” she reassured them before greeting them.

“We made this space especially for your mommy,” the girl continued, taking her friend to show her the spot. “We thought it was good for her to be surrounded by marigolds since this would represent her first time coming down. You can place the photograph whenever you feel ready.”

Jay moved unconsciously, with a lot of doubts and questions swirling around his mind. He also noted how Becca was holding the frame tighter and tighter around her arms. He didn’t know how to act; she was being hard to read, so he was thankful for Catalina’s mom's intervention.

“But if you change your mind and don’t feel like putting her there, that’s also perfectly fine, honey,” she then turned to the brother, “I know this is new to you two, and you might find it a little bit strange.”

“...or scary. It’s understandable,” Cata completed.

“No,” Becca finally stated, “I want to do it.” Slowly and with a lot of delicacy and love, she placed the frame with her mother’s picture in its place on the altar. Jay approached her and squeezed both of her shoulders, letting her know he was there for her.

The food they had brought was placed near her, “So she can easily find her dish,” Mrs. Aragón remarked. When everything was settled, Jay and Becca stayed there, staring at their mom. It was a beautiful scene to witness how the photograph had taken on another tone, surrounded by so many colors, illuminated by the candles, the smoke that the incense created, and the orange marigold petals.

“Now we wait for them,” Mrs. Aragón said in a very low voice.

Becca couldn’t help but cry, but she wasn't sad or grieving; actually, she was somehow relieved, the hole in her chest disappeared. Suddenly she didn’t feel so lonely, she didn’t feel like she was missing her mom. Jay wrapped his arm around her, and she hugged him back, surrounding his waist with her arms. He kissed her hair and asked, “You good?”

“Sure, I’m just happy we did this.”

“It is sad to lose a loved one, especially if it's someone very close,” Mrs. Aragón spoke, looking at her own family pictures at the altar. “But at the end of the day, this celebration is a party for them, to remember them and celebrate the lives they had and thank them for the time they stayed by our sides. Of course we are allowed to cry for them, but we should end the evening with a smile.”

The Halsteads didn’t stay much time there, but it was long enough to eat tamales, under the insistence of their host, “because there’s no real party without tamales,” the woman would say.

Becca and Catalina were sitting separated from the adults while having dinner. The atmosphere was very peaceful, and cheerful music was already playing in the background.

“Do you really think this is real?” Becca asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Cat was looking into the horizon, reflexively. “You know, it is supposed that souls arrive at midnight, during the first moments of November 2nd. When I was a child, by 10 o'clock at night, my grandma would say, 'They should be close by now,' and I would get very excited about the idea. As the clock ticked away, my mom would playfully ask us, 'Where do you think they are at this very moment?' and I took it very seriously, imagining their entire process of coming back home. During the early morning, when I was already in my bed, I pictured them eating their offerings, and I would close my eyes, trying to hear their footsteps in the hallway. For me, it represented the idea of seeing again the relatives I missed and meeting others who had passed away before I was even born, those whom I only knew through stories,” She bit her lip a bit, at this point her eyes were watery, “I don’t know if it’s true, but I really want to believe it is. Ugh, I just want to see my granny one more time and tell her how much I miss her, how much I need her. I’ve been praying all day long to dream with her tonight, that’s all I ask.”

Almost an hour before their arrival, Jay announced their departure. When Becca was about to get into the car, she heard Catalina calling her, so she went back to meet her in the middle of her front yard.

“Here,” She handed her a small bunch of marigolds, “We call this flower cempasúchil, it is used to guide the spirits, show them the way to their offerings, so they don’t get lost. That's why we put so many petals for your mom, to help her. I thought about giving you some, I mean, your mom’s on my altar, but you are not here,” she shrugged, “I don’t think this is the place where she would want to be. I thought you might find it useful,” she winked at her friend and ran back inside.

“It was…something different,” Jay stated on their way back to his apartment.

“Yeah, but I think I liked it.”

That night, Becca waited for Jay to fall asleep and she sneaked into his room to place a couple of marigolds over his nightstand. She did it with a sense of deep emotion. Then, she put the rest in a small glass of water next to her bed, thinking about how much she wished both of them dream with their mommy that night.

Thanks for reading. If you liked it, it would help my soul if you give it a like, comment or share. 😌♡

🎶

Cempasúchil

Natalia Lafourcade - Recuérdame (Solo)

Silvana Estrada — Amor Eterno (Candlelight Original Session)

#Jay Halstead #Jay Halstead x Halstead sister #Halstead sister #Jay Halstead x sister #One Chicago #Chicagi PD #One Chicago fanfic #Jay Halstead fic #Jay Halstead one shot #Day of the dead #Día de muerto #chicago pd #jay halstead imagine

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vrmxlho · 1 year

Text

"so you must be the new sous-chef..."

"yes, that's me." the kitchen was much smaller than you anticipated. there was no staff either. you knew they were on a break but you just couldn't imagine any more than 10 people using the place. you had expected the great chef sae itoshi to have a vast kitchen with thousands of assistants and cooks so he wouldn't have to lift a finger. after all the restaurant he was running was no small place. 'so, he's picky with his staff' you thought. 'that feels oddly satisfying'. the fact that he was so young and handsome made it even more satisfying. someone your age accepting was an ego boost.

but he didn't even spare a moment to look at you. turning harshly, he threw an apron in your general direction and snapped his fingers twice, indicating he wanted you to follow him.

"you'll be working with me on the final presentation of all dishes before they are served." he looked back at you this time. not really at you but to more so to show you his sour, displeased face. "i take it you've worked as sous-chef with many other chefs before."

"yes."

"yes, chef. if you don't mind." again, he turned his displeased face over his shoulder and gave you a sickly, forced smile.

"sorry, chef."

"so you're incapable of running your own kitchen."

"i just want more experience as–"

"that wasn't a question or an invitation to talk."

there was this burning coil in your stomach as you both came to a halt in front of the main island. it stood right in middle of the kitchen but far from the fridge and the service doors. there were already three plates on it, each hosting components of the the great chef's speciality.

"i'd like to test your skills for a week. if i am unsatisfied, you'll have to find some other place. does that sound fair?"

"yes, chef." it didn't sound fair at all. your contract strictly stated that you would have this role for at least a year before anyone could even think of firing you. but what could you say? you couldn't anger him before you'd even started.

so, you slowly approached the three dishes and inspected them carefully. the first had a perfectly cooked sockeye salmon, with iridescent scales you could almost see yourself on, and a buttery pink flesh that smelled of lemongrass and green apple vinegar.

the next plate had flowers. many flowers. sprigs of lavender, spotted pansies and violas, bright and bitter marigolds, and heaps of small, gentle violets. you could still smell the life in them, as if they had just been picked.

the last plate had a single comice pear and a large orange. it was almost insulting to see the mass producing fruit company sticker still on both the fruits. yet inside, you knew this was a test of creativity. not of how well you could spot expensive ingredients.

"no sauce, chef?"

to this he looked at you gravely as if he was going to slaughter and serve you as the next 'it' dish. "i can only sauce dishes after i've examined them and i have made sure they're ready to go."

"what about white wine?"

"we serve that at the table."

"but where can i find some?"

"are you planning on drinking on the job or is there some other pressing reason?"

"i want to make something."

again, he looked at you, infuriated. this time he slammed his hand on a nearby island and spat, "you can do that when you get your own kitchen. if you get your own kitchen."

"it'll only take a moment." you said directing yourself towards the fridge door that loomed behind his imposing figure. you didn't really understand yourself. all you knew was that your body wanted, no needed, to move in that direction. but before you could reach the handle to open it he pulling you back by the waist until your back hit him.

his mouth was right above your ear. and he whispered in a menacing tone that felt as if it was sucking the life out of you. "i swear i will lock you in that fridge if you dare waste a single extra second. you could have been done by now."

"how am i supposed to prove my abilities if all i'm allowed to do is plate a dish with no taste or sauce?"

you didn't know why you were still whispering. what you also didn't know was why you were still being held to his chest by your waist. 'is this something i can tell HR?' somehow you chose not to. perhaps because you wanted to stay like that. his smell was intoxicating and you had to fight the urge to take a deep breath it.

"what abilities exactly? you come into my kitchen, tell me you want to make a sauce when you've clearly been instructed to plate. you have full liberty there, yet you are not satisfied." there was something very cold and cutting about his warm breathe on your ear and you felt a chill mix into your burning stomach. he slowly pulled his hand away from you and turned you around. your back was now flush against the cool metal fridge door as he towered over you menacingly. "what can i do for you? oh great sous-chef!" he mocked.

the coil in your stomach finally snapped and couldn't tell if you wanted to beat the life out of him or cry. you took a deep breathe and walked back to the island. you pulled a knife from a rack beside you as you quartered into the pear vertically and plated it with the salmon. you gently put the flowers around the fish in the centre to fill up the entire plate, leaving space only for sauce.

you were left with the massive orange, which you peeled and ate. a snack to be enjoyed. while staring sae dead in the eye. he probably wanted you to plate it with the salmon. elementally, they went wonderfully together. but all you wanted right then and there was him pissed, and on the table ready to be gutted alive. you were going to kill this man before your contract was up. that was a vow.

"this will have to do." he seemed to have given up at this petty war you had started. you didn't want him to back down, but what were you to do? you couldn't keep provoking him, that would get you no recommendation letters for future jobs. "we'll continue with this tomorrow."

and continue you did. it was as if that night's rest had spawned an even greater hate for you within him. all day you were running around the kitchen getting dishes ready for him to inspect and taste.

"this could use some sauce."

"you said not to use any or else it would overpower the taste of the quail. chef."

"did i? are you sure? why would i say something so ridiculous and untrue? quail is already much richer than any other poultry. i doubt a simple sauce would overpower this." again, he gave you that sickly, dead smile that made you squirm.

'then i suppose the other sae must have told me to leave the sauce out.' you thought. but you couldn't bring yourself to say it.

you too made the most repulsive face you could, before quietly saying, "my apologies, chef."

it didn't end on a simple sauce though. you were never the lucky type. and so, the harassment continued with everything you did.

"this sorbet is too icy. i could cut myself on the ice crystals."

so you changed it. you melted the base, added sugar and lanique and refroze it before serving, yet, it was still not enough.

"too much alcohol, this isn't supposed to be a digestif."

and you remade it completely. it was perfect, even he would agreed. yet he said nothing to compliment your work.

"i hope you don't need to make things three times before they're edible..."

would anyone really mind if you threw a knife at him then and there? you surely wouldn't. besides, with all the knives around an "accident" is bound to happen right? 'stay calm. just cope for another 12 months and you're good.' it was hard to convince yourself you were fine but you just had to.

"now blindfold yourself for the next task."

"why exactly?" you asked uncertainly. there was no way you were going to obstruct one of your senses in his presence.

"do as you're told."

"where am i supposed to find a blindfold? i'll just close my eyes. or turn around–"

he took a step closer to you. his face was mere inches from yours and you feared he could feel the heat rising to your face radiate off your skin.

he looked even better up close. you could see the pigments in his iris, the dialated pupils as if he was enjoying himself, his gracious eyelashes that curled perfectly the almost there freckles, his rosy nose, and his lips. his lips. his lips? how would you describe his lips? well, his lips looked kissable. that was really it. and you wanted to kiss them. you would've too if you didn't know any better.

you felt his hand slip close to the pocket near your stomach where he pulled out a silk blindfold. you could feel that same burning coil in your stomach and you suddenly felt nauseous. your heart was palpitating erraticaly as you wished to step away from him. but you couldn't. you were frozen.

"you're able to put a blindfold on right." he sighed as if just being in your presence was sickening.

"yes, chef."

it's a strange feeling, being robbed of your sight. 'i guess it's to heighten my sense of taste.' how foolish of you. he wasn't even thinking at that moment. he found himself wondering how soft those lips could feel. perhaps they would melt in his mouth just as your indian fig sorbet had done. what would your lips taste like? if he was going to kiss you he might as well feed you some mint.

"tell me what you taste."

you feel a cool metal spoon approach your mouth and you open it just a bit before you tasted the contents.

"honey."

"what, honey?"

"lavander. it's salty. and greengage prune. half-ripe."

"good. now try this."

this time the spoon faltered a little and a bit of whatever was in it was smeared on the corner of your lips. before you could quickly wipe it, you felt his fingers gently swipe over the area. the burning, nauseating coil in the pit of your stomach was cutting. it felt like a searing pan constantly hitting you or a knife pulling your skin off. your heart rate was increasinging steadily and you were reminisced to a time were you were free of such a fragile heart, a time before sae.

"confit peppers. and a seaweed sauce? or is it just very salty–"

"can i kiss you? please."

"why are you so polite suddenly?"

"please."

you didn't speak. you just parted your mouth slightly, eagerly, restlessly. the next thing you feel is a pair of lips on yours, soft and tender. he kissed you slowly and languidly, as if he were filled with a deep longing that he’d never experienced before.

when the kiss does come to an end, and you're left standing there, breathless and wanting more. the air is thicker, heavier even. the moment lingers as you hear the thundering of your hearts, and your panting breaths.

"mint? chef?"

for @earthtooz, ik you don't even like him but you're the only reason i finished this

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yourplayersaidwhat · 1 year

Text

My party has been exploring a BloodHunter's Lodge that had been thought a ruin but, in fact, is currently under the control of one of (many) groups who would happily see us dead. Our ranger, a halfling named Wren, had been aged and possessed by the ghost of a powerful necromancer our friendly (undead) Bloodhunter, Marigold, killed before they passed away prior, so the ghost has quite the grudge against Marigold. Apparently, Marigold has some... feelings.. about the ghost and maybe Wren...

DM: Wren, I'm gonna let you try to make a will save on your next turn, see if you can get out from the ghost's possession. Marigold, you're up.

Marigold: Right. Everything is going to be non lethal, but let's do Crimson rite, and try attacking with both my swords.

*rolls*

Marigold: .... that's a nat 20. I'm going to use my inspiration to do max damage!

Zoe(Rogue) *while laughing*: Marigold is beating old lady Wren!

Marigold *laughing as well*: The power of Christ compels you!!

DM: You're using your fire sword right? As well as your enchanted silver? That does extra damage to undead?

Everyone: ooohhhh....

Marigold: ... yeah...

DM: That damage counts too. >:D

Wren: I'm sensing some underlying aggression here!

Marigold: I sorry!!! Uh.. x damage.. Marigold is literally beating Wren with their swords, setting her on fire and shouting "The power of Christ compels you!" *wham wham wham!!*

Wren: .... well.. I'm below 0 hp. This is elder abuse.

DM: Well... never mind Wren trying to will save. That's no longer needed.

Everyone cackling and various cries of elder abuse, while the rest of us deal with the ghost.

Marigold later: Oh! I was using d4s! I should have been using d6s for damage!

Wren: It's nice to know I would have been even more knocked out then I already was!

Marigold: I was holding back! Clearly I was holding back!

Wren: Oh yes, while setting me on fire and giving an old lady a concussion. Marigold and Wren are going to have a very long, serious talk about this later. Air out the clear tension that has suddenly come to light.

Marigold: I sorry!!! >-<;;;

#shit my players say #dnd #rpg #submission #shareable #long post #team spirit

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yuckydraws · 9 months

Text

A lil oneshot that I'm thinking might become the start of an ongoing fic? We'll see.

Pairing: (HT Sans/reader) with hints of (UT Papyrus/reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Build Up My Heart

It’s fucking hot.

You wipe the sweat off your brow and sigh, looking at all the work you and your team accomplished today. You’ve finally finished the framing for the guest house this family of… rather odd skeletons, have hired you to build. And you understand why.

This already large, cabin-like home is practically overflowing with them.

In your time here, you’ve counted at least twelve.

Twelve people. In one home that, yes, is large, but can’t hold more than maybe five or six bedrooms.

It’s a wonder they haven’t ripped each other’s heads off - you’ve overheard a fight or two when you’ve taken your lunch on the lawn… and man do some of them argue.

When you first started working here, you swore you were going crazy. Almost every time you saw one of them it was one you’ve never seen/met before. Yet they all seem to look alike in some way, though you’ve kept that to yourself. Maybe that’s just how it is for skeleton monsters, who are you to say something ignorant like that?

Sans and Papyrus, the two skeletons you’ve spoken with the most, have been patient with every setback this project has had, though you can almost see the exhaustion in their sockets every time they pop over to talk progress. Makes you wonder if they’re the “peacekeepers” of the home.

But, then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be wondering too much. You’re just here to work, get the job done, and eventually move on to the next. Which will likely be another cookie cutter house in a subdivision.

… you’ll admit, though, that you’re going to miss seeing some of the wacky things they do.

And seeing that absolutely gorgeous garden of theirs.

It’s basically your dream. It packs an impressive variety of fruits and vegetables all neatly growing in raised garden beds. Marigolds are scattered about, likely to keep pests away, and there’s much more flowers where that came from - all of which look happy and content if their blooms are anything to go by. Whoever planned the garden, took convenience into account as well. An array of herbs grow right behind the decorative arch to the entrance of the garden. Just in case anyone just needs to grab a quick little something for a recipe.

Stars, you’d love to trade your apartment windowsill, grown out of an old milk jug, herbs for a lovely stroll to this garden. Who wouldn’t?

It also has a line of fruit trees lining the north side of the garden, likely so as not to block the sunshine. Whether those were here when they purchased the land and they planned the garden around it, or not, you wouldn’t doubt that whoever planned this garden would have the foresight for that.

Currently, ripe peaches hang from one tree, and apple blossoms grow on another. Makes you wonder what the other two trees produce, but they must not be in season at the moment with their bareness.

As if all that wasn’t enough, they also topped off this garden with strewn lights, stone pathways, and goofy gnomes.

A garden like this looks like a full time job, yet you’ve never seen who tends to it. You’ve seen some of the household members pick from it, but never who makes sure the weeds stay away, or who manages the more sensitive plants.

You wonder who it is.

“Hey, didn’t ya hear?” A voice calls you from your thoughts. You pry your gaze away from the garden and meet your coworker’s gaze. “It’s quittin’ time.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You confirm, slipping your gloves off. Not that those gloves protect your hands from the rough calluses littering your palms, but they do help them feel less sore at the end of the day. “The boss wants me to meet with those skeletons to go over the next step.” You thank whatever is up there that you actually have an excuse for your daydreaming this time.

“Right, I forgot that you’re a bigwig supervisor now.” He teases. You roll your eyes, that title hardly means anything yet. “Well, we’re all meetin’ at Al’s for drinks, if ya wanna join later.”

You would rather not.

“We’ll see, thanks Ron.” You neither accept nor decline. He gives somewhat of a salute before slipping away with the rest of the bunch.

Slipping your hardhat off, you await the arrival of your boss, scrolling on your phone in the meantime. It’s not long until you hear the rumble of his truck pulling up, and you quickly pocket the device in your hands.

Out hops Ted, clipboard in hand and that aggravating smile on his face.

He’s nice enough, but something about him has always felt a little fake. However, playing nice with the boss was what got you this promotion, so you’re not about to jeopardize that now. Waving you over, he greets the skeleton brothers who approach him rather quickly. Must have been waiting just like you. Eager wouldn’t begin to explain how much they want this project to move along.

You catch the tail end of greetings, shaking both Sans and Papyrus’ hands as you’re formally introduced (though, you’ve already had multiple conversations with them while working). Your boss cracks some jokes that you half laugh along to, before he finally gets down to business. Listening intently, and chiming in when necessary, you learn what you already knew. Plumbing, HVAC, electrical, etc. needs to happen before you and your team can continue. It’ll be contracted out, yadda yadda yadda.

Just as you’re beginning to think you have no reason to be a part of this conversation, it’s… over. Yeah that was a waste of a half hour, though you suppose you may be giving clients this talk at some point so it’s likely important to hear.

Ted wraps things up, shakes their hands again, and takes his leave. Sans slips away after that, claiming that he has something that he needs to get back to. You almost follow and take your leave as well, but Papyrus, who’s always been more social, gets you pausing.

“WELL, HUMAN, I SUPPOSE WE WON’T BE SEEING YOU FOR A LITTLE BIT.” He says. You’ve long since gotten used to his loud voice. You smile.

“Gonna miss me that bad?” You tease. Oddly enough, a light flush of orange rises to his cheekbones. Interesting

“W-Well… I ALWAYS ENJOY OUR TALKS WHEN I BRING OUT WATER.” He blurts. Ah, yes, the water. Ultimately unneeded, but very much appreciated.

“It’ll be a few weeks, at most.” You remind him. He beams at that.

“YES, I SUPPOSE YOU’RE RIGHT.” He agrees. It warms your heart that he seems to care even that much. It’s not often homeowners even talk to you and your crew, let alone be as kind as Papyrus has been. “WELL, YOU’VE HAD A LONG DAY, I WON’T KEEP YOU.”

You check your watch and wince.

“Yeahhh… I still got to run to the store to get some tomatoes for this recipe I’m making, so I should-”

“WE HAVE TOMATOES!” Papyrus all but blurts. You blink up at him. That orange flush is back.

Huh.

“We U-Uh… WE HAVE THAT GARDEN, I’M SURE YOU’VE SEEN IT!” You tilt your head at his words, not wanting to assume where he’s going with this - he is a client after all. “WE HAVE PLENTY, YOU SHOULD PICK SOME AND SAVE YOURSELF A TRIP.”

At any other jobsite, you’d have quickly refused… but something about his hopeful smile and genuinity of the offer has you softening like butter. Plus… you’d get to see that beautiful garden up close.

“You sure? I don’t want to overstep…”

“POSITIVE! I THINK BEAR IS IN THE GARDEN RIGHT NOW, HE COULD SHOW YOU WHERE THEY’RE PLANTED!”

“Bear?” You ask, wracking your brain for which skeleton he’s referring to. You haven’t been introduced to many of them.

“YOU HAVEN’T MET HIM.” Papyrus says with absolute certainty. “HE AVOIDS TENDING TO IT WHEN YOU GUYS ARE HERE WORKING.”

Oh.

“Well, are you sure he’ll want me wandering in there, then?”

“OH, I’M SURE HE’LL BE ALRIGHT WITH IT, HE JUST… HAS TROUBLE SOCIALLY. HE’S NICE, THOUGH.”

You hesitate. This Bear obviously enjoys gardening in the peace and quiet, who are you to interrupt that? However… it’s nearing 7pm and you’re ravenous. A trip to the store sounds like torture.

As if sensing your dilemma, Papyrus pivots, placing a hand on your shoulder and urges you back around the house. “I’LL GO WITH YOU, TO ASSURE YOU ALL IS WELL.” You just nod and follow along, both because it feels like nothing you do will change his mind, and because of your selfish desire to just get done with this day sooner.

Your workboots sink into the plush clover lawn as you both make your way across the backyard to the garden. Your eyes are captured once again, by said garden, and you almost don’t notice the rather large skeleton tending to the flowerbeds in towards the front until Papyrus speaks from across the short fencing.

“BEAR, IS IT ALRIGHT IF MY FRIEND HERE PICKS SOME TOMATOES?”

You look to where Papyrus is speaking, and the first thing you see is the gaping hole in this skeleton’s head.

Holyfuckisheokay?? How-

You look to Papyrus in concern, but see him just… smiling down at you? Confused, you look back to this skeleton, crouched behind a garden bed and lock eyes (eye?) with the bloated, bright red eye-light filling the socket that isn’t scarred from his head wound. You… can’t tell what he’s thinking, with that blank expression of his.

But seeing as this is apparently normal for him, you’re now worried you’ve offended the guy.

Maybe magic helps monsters survive the seemingly unsurvivable? It’s not like he has any internal organs in his skull… maybe that’s why-

You’re pulled from your thoughts as this apparent behemoth stands up.

Oh.

Oh my.

You’re beginning to understand why he’s called ‘Bear’. He’s certainly a bear in every sense of the word. Large, imposing, intimidating… and did you mention huge?? Now, you aren’t small. You’ve kept up in construction for almost a decade now and it shows… but you still feel like a twig, craning your neck to look up at him.

However, the dirt covered overalls he’s wearing, definitely takes away from some of his initial intimidating demeanor.

“... sure.” He rumbles, blank expression still giving no clue to where his mind is.

Holy fucking baritone-

Papyrus pats you on the back and beams at Bear.

“THANK YOU! I’M GOING TO START ON DINNER, OKAY?” You numbly nod, trying to force your thoughts away from where they want to go. “SEE YOU IN A FEW WEEKS, HUMAN!” Tearing your eyes away from Bear, you wave back to Papyrus and watch him retreat into the home. You wait until he’s inside to take in what you hope is a subtle deep breath.

You about leap into the air, when you turn around and find Bear right behind you, at the entrance of the garden. Clutching your chest, you remind yourself to relax. How’d he get there? And so quietly, too…

And you swear you see this giant quirk the smallest of smiles at your jumpiness.

He thinks he’s funny, huh? Asshole.

You stare up at him, flushing and definitely not pouting. “Ah, uh, thanks for letting me steal some tomatoes, you’re saving me a trip to the store.” You decide to be polite. After all, you were the one to gawk first, perhaps you deserved a bit of payback.

He just grunts.

And you both just… stand there. After a few moments of silence, you speak up.

“So… where are they?” You inquire, glancing around at what you can see of the garden, but it’s hard when you have a seven foot wall of solid skele-man right in front of you.

“where are… what?” He asks.

You tilt your head. He just said…

“The tomatoes?” You try, maybe he spaced out when Papyrus asked him if it was okay… and when you just mentioned them a second ago?

He seems to recall something, if the twitch of his bone brows are to say much. Nodding, he turns and lumbers through the rows of flowerbeds. Assuming that’s an invitation for you to follow, you rush to fall into step behind him and his large strides… but, you quickly fall behind as you start to admire the garden’s beauty up close. Your steps slow as you stroll past the growing cauliflower plants. These can be incredibly hard to grow… how did he…?

You gingerly touch one of the leaves, and look up to Bear, who’s stopped and turned to look at what’s keeping you.

“How do you get these to grow so well?” You ask, smiling excitedly at him. He blinks, large shoulders relaxing a bit, as if he was expecting you to ask something else.

He reaches into his overall pocket, and slips out what looks like a very well-loved notebook. You watch curiously, but patiently as he opens it and flips through it. You’re unsure what the notebook has to do with his answer but you’re willing to wait and find out.

He pauses on a page and looks back to you, seeming to ponder something before deciding ‘fuck it’, as he approaches you and hands the book to you. It’s got various dirt stains, and some pages have been taped back in where they’ve come loose, so you treat it with care as you take it from his grasp. And there, on the page you see notes in small, neat handwriting. Research notes, with drawings and everything. The topic being the little cauliflower plant you’re standing next to.

Some of it seems to just be information taken from the internet and put in short form, while others seems to be from actual trial and error. You skim his writing, noticing that he’s scratched some things out but towards the end, he seems to have figured out the perfect schedule for the plant to thrive.

You’re tempted to flip through the book and read more, but you refrain. That seems like an invasion of privacy.

“Wow, that’s really cool that you go as far to take all these notes. You must really enjoy this, huh?” You ask, handing it back to him. He stares at it in his hands for a moment, before putting it back in his pocket.

He just nods.

“Not much of a talker?” You tease lightheartedly, trying to see if you can get any sort of… anything out of this guy other than blank staring and slightly intimidating silence.

He shrugs, and turns back around, leading you again.

But you’re not done.

“You’ve really built something beautiful here, ya know?” You continue. He just keeps walking. “This is amazing! It could almost be considered a small farm! Though, I guess with all your housemates to feed, it’s just a garden, huh?”

Still no answer, but you swear he starts walking a little faster if the way you have to almost jog to keep up is anything to go by.

“The flowers too? Man, this must be a full time job that, I’ll be honest, I’m a little jealous of! I’d be in here all day if I was able to! This is absolutely gorgeous, Bear! Do you take care of this all by yourself? You really have a talent, I hope you know that.”

Suddenly Bear stops, leaving you to walk right into his back… which given his height means you faceplant right into his spine. He barely budges, yet the force of it knocks you on your butt. You grunt and rub at your smarting nose. Damn, this dude is solid.

His red light stares down at you, from the corner of his good socket. He doesn’t apologize, or offer you a hand, just simply points to the tomato plant in front of him.

“... tomato.” He mutters, then takes his leave, stepping over your sprawled legs and heading back to the flower bed he was working on.

… huh, you could’ve sworn, you saw the faintest hints of blue on his cheekbones.

Chuckling to yourself, and once again, thinking that these skeletons are silly, you pick yourself up and dust off your pants. Not that. You really need to dust off your already dirty work clothes, but it feels right.

You lean over the tomato plants in question, finding quite a little variety in the garden bed. Roma, cherry, black krim, campari - and those are just the ones you can name. Dinner in this house must be full of all the most delicious, fresh produce.

Once again, you’re a little jealous.

You pick a few ripe and tasty looking romas, and call it good. While you’d love to experiment with some of the others, this was a kind offer from a friend and given to you by an acquaintance, you’re not about to take advantage of either of them. Holding your goods protectively to you, you wander back to the entrance of the garden, where Bear is once again knelt in front of one of the flowerbeds, tugging at some stubborn looking weeds.

He glances at you as you approach him. You hold up your three tomatoes and grin at him. “Thank you for these, you saved me a trip to the store!” A nod is all you get. “And… speaking of the store, I feel bad just taking these, I have cash?”

That gets him to fully turn his skull to look at you, and you take that as a yes.

“This is about a pound, I’d say, so how about I just give you an even $5?” You offer. Yet again, he just stares.

“... I mean I can look up how much it is at the store or you can give me a price too, if you’d rather…” You ramble, feeling a little awkward under that stare of his. You just met the guy today, and he’s proving to be extremely hard to read.

You’re about to just reach into your pocket and pull out a $10 (way too much, but you’d pay anything to get out of this awkward silence), when your stomach growls rather loudly. His stare moves to your belly.

“Ah, uh, yeah it’s dinner time, huh?” You try to joke it off. His light flits back to your face, and finally, he just waves you off.

“... You don’t want money?” You ask tentatively. He shakes his head.

“... go home.” He rumbles, yet his tone isn’t rude, “go eat.” He adds. Your shoulders release tension you didn’t even quite realize was there and the awkwardness finally fading, and you offer him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, it’s been a long day. I really appreciate it.”

He hums.

“... and I hope you know you don’t have to wait until our team leaves to tend to your garden. This is your home, we’re just working here.”

He raises a skele-brow at your words, looking unimpressed as he gestures to the sizable hole in his skull. You hold back a wince as you remember your reaction. You know the guys you work with, and you also know that your reaction is probably going to be the most tame one he gets.

“Right… I uh, I’m really sorry for how I reacted, I thought it was a recent injury and I was worried you needed an ambulance or something cause humans can’t survive something like that, but that was really insensitive.” You murmur. His stare seems to slightly soften at that, but you barely notice that as an idea pops in your brain. Instantly, you brighten. “Wait here! I’ve got an idea, I will be right back!”

And with that, you start a careful jog to your old, beat up truck - not wanting to drop your precious produce. Once there, you deposit your small bounty into your upside down hardhat to keep them from rolling around, and then pop open your rather dirt-covered glove department. You’ve never really found the point in cleaning your truck that often when you just dirty it everyday after work. Digging through the mess of papers there, your hands find that knit fabric they were looking for.

“Ah hah!” You exclaim excitedly, closing your vehicle’s door and rushing back around the house to the garden that you left Bear at. He’s since moved on to a different flowerbed, but no amount of kneeling would hide that big frame of his and he’s rather easy to spot because of it.

Hearing the crunches on your loud footsteps in the gravel, he turns, seeming a little surprised that you actually came back.

You hold up the beanie in your hand, grinning at him as you let him connect the dots, it was one of your first crochet projects… and you misread the amount of links you’d need for it, resulting in a beanie that was ridiculously large for your head. You had meant to toss it or take it apart for the yarn, but it found its way into your glove department, and that’s where it’s stayed for almost a year.

However, it seems to be the perfect size for this skeleton giant in front of you.

“Wanna see if it fits?” You ask, stepping closer. In your excitement, you don’t connect the dots that his skull might be a no-touching zone, and reach to slip it on. He quickly leans away from you, eyeing the beanie warily.

“Oh, right. Sorry, here.” You hold it out in an offer. He hesitantly takes it, staring at it for a long moment before glancing up to you. “It’ll stretch, if you’re worried about it catching those edges.” You assure him, not sure how sensitive the area around his injury is, but figuring it’s better safe than sorry.

After a few more moments of silence (that are beginning to feel a little less awkward), he slowly and carefully slips the beanie on his skull. He makes sure to stretch it and hold it a little ways away on his injured side of his skull, and soon it’s sitting nicely on his head.

A perfect fit.

“There! Now it’s hidden!” You say. He tilts his head. “I know it’s not fair that you can’t just waltz out here in broad daylight while we’re here without worrying about feeling judged, but it’s also not fair to have to hole yourself inside and wait until we leave to do your thing. I mean, it’s almost dark and you’ve got a lot more to do, and these string lights only illuminate so much.” You explain.

He nods, slipping it off and moving to hand it back to you, as if he’s not aware it’s a gift.

“Keep it, think of this as a trade for the yummy tomatoes! Plus, I think you look cute in it.” You say, smiling again as you see the slight blue return to his face. “If you decide you don’t like it, feel free to do whatever you’d like with it, it’s not like it’ll fit my head anyways.” You say with a little laugh.

A low rumbling noise escapes Bear. You tilt your head, and it doesn’t click until you see the smile on his face and his shoulders bouncing slightly. He’s chuckling at you.

You ignore the growing warmth on your face at hearing more of that very attractive voice of his, and let out a few little giggles of your own, closing your eyes as you do.

So, you’re none the wiser when Bear slips the beanie off of his head and moves closer to you in that silent way he does. It’s not until he plops the article onto you that you sputter and open your eyes, only to be met with your lashes brushing against the yarn and your vision being hindered by the way the beanie practically reaches the bottom of your nose. Reaching up, you lift it up and find Bear grinning at you.

“... no, it doesn’t… does it?”

He’s making fun of you. Again.

Jokingly pouting, you slip it off and toss it back at him, where it bounces off his chest harmlessly and falls into his lap. He guffaws at that, his little chuckles turning into a deep belly laughter.

It’s infectious, and soon, you’re joining in again.

It’s not until your stomach makes your hunger loudly well known again, that he sobers, looking serious once again.

“... you need… to eat.” He reminds you.

You smile sheepishly, and try not to be too disappointed at having to leave. You were just getting him outta his shell a bit!

“Yeah, I do. Your dinner will be ready soon, too, I bet.” You say, shifting your weight on your feet as you stall just a moment longer. “I uh, hope to see more of you.”

He just stares again, but there’s a sharpness missing in his light.

“Goodnight, Bear.” You say, pivoting to take your leave. He doesn’t say anything right away, and you just assume he won’t, given what you’ve learned about him today.

But as you start to walk back to your truck, you hear a quiet, “goodnight.” from Bear. You smile again, turning to give him a little wave that you don’t see if he returns as you round the corner of the house.

#yucky writes #yucky yaks #oneshot #drabble #but not really #undertale #ut papyrus #papyrus #horrortale #ht sans #bear #papyrus/reader #htsans/reader #if i do make this an ongoing fic it'll be a reverse harem #i deffo have ideas but I still gotta actually ya know. plan a plot if it's gonna be ongoing so we'll see!

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alice-ness · 9 days

Note

*holding my hands out aggressively*

GIVE ME THE HEADCANONS

Please I am so content starved it is not even funny, I want the hight school headcanons PLEASE

I love all of them but it I had to chose for only a few I would say gimme Chip and Leaf please

Also I like that one fic u have with Logainne, and Chip, and Leaf, it's really awesome, I'm that one person who commented begging you to please continue the fic and not drop it

K that's it, hope u have a good day byeeeeee

hi!!! tysm for asking here's highschool headcanons for chip and leaf! ((and sorry it took a while) 🙏🙏 ALSO im so glad u like the fic i will try to finish it but it might be a little while #busybee

in this au they all are in similar grades bc i thought abt trying to make it work in canon but it just doesn't rip

chip tolentino

- goes to highschool with marcy, leaf, and marigold

- yes he is incredibly tortured by seeing her all the time lol

- in his freshman year he had a random slump and kind of just did nothing and sulked around all the time (post child boy scout burnout/gifted kid burnout)

- like his grades were... whatever but he didn't talk to anyone and didn't do any extra curriculars

- his parents got tired of him being so suddenly lethargic-teenager so they made him join track

- he's actually really good at it, and eventually (not freshman year but eventually) he's semipopular in an awkward way where people know him but he doesn't TALK to all those people

- does really embarrassing dares with his track teammates. He's not necessarily pressured so much as he gets really into it in the moment LOL

- i put this in the fic but he ran into leaf at a club fair and they hang out now lol

- and leaf hangs out with logainne so he started hanging out with logainne

- and he has some classes with marcy and they were both in a school-rut so they bonded

- wasn't for a while that leaf naturally got the whole spelling bee group hanging out together but that was incredibly weird for chip ... bc... it's kind of weird in general

- especially hanging with barfee but they make up and they're homies (who play argue and play brawl)

- had to do a creative writing unit and discovered he's really good at that too but he's kinda embarrassed about it

- he likes like typical story writing and also nostalgic poems but he's even more embarrassed about that

- he and olive once made eye contact at a creative writing contest he went to without telling anyone and now she wards his secret

- one summer marcy got really into skateboarding and chip tried it out too to be supportive but he ate shit every. Single. time.

- chip learned to drive his junior year and really wanted a sports car but he got a shitty hand me down dad car

- one time marcy called him like "hey can you pick me up" nd he was like "from where" and she's like. "from san francisco?'

- bro how did u even get there

- he does it anyway tho

- they're like besties and they go on a lot of late night snack missions

- if they watch scary movies he will be screaming and crying and she'll be like "oh my god pay attention"

- has a crush on like every single girl he talks to

- sometimes they overlap with logainne's crushes and it's very awkward, especially bc he listens to her disaster lesbian rants at every sleepover

- he grows a really shitty puberty stache he's very proud of and EVERYONE (minus leaf who is unconditionally supportive) BEGS him to shave it

- his dad sits him down like Son. What are you doing.

- ramen and hotpockets diet (if he wanted to cook he'd be good at it tho)

- also this is just me projecting but he's filipino cuz i say so (and my word is law bc it's AAPI month /j)

- 5'5 forever... he constantly prays it'll change

- is really good at dioramas

- goes to school dances to complain in the corner the whole time about the music and the food

- could be misconstrued as mysterious but he's just awkward

- most indecisive person of all time and makes it everyone else's problem

leaf coneybear

- not ALL of his siblings made the switch to public school for high school but some did, including marigold (and pinecone who is older than them)

- it was a hard switch but it doesn't take long to find his crowd bc he's a naturally charismatic person

- his crowd is theater kids. he really loves improv and straight plays, he loves musicals too but he doesn't have great rhythm LOL

- he also LOVES helping make costumes, and in junior/senior year he's on the board

- still likes to make some of his own clothes

- was always tall for his age but had a growth spurt before freshman year and he's like. 6'1 LOL he's a stringbean

- sneaks both his cats and logainne into his school

- yes admin is tired but damn are his cats cute

- logainne is his best friend for literal life they are inseparable and will find any reason to hang out

- kind of an energy drink addict (they're not allowed in his house but he WILL drink too many anywhere else if u don't watch out and then crash and feel sick)

- (sidenote he HAS calmed down some but he can still be distractable and is still rlly high energy. Some days he takes to just completely slow down and veg out tho which is nice) (like pretty much he just won't stomp around and roar or whatever in the middle of sentences like in im not that smart 😭)

- on the complete opposite end of that he's also an organic fruit smoothie addict

- he also loves to bake and he's REALLY good at it but his younger siblings aren't allowed sugar so he will spontaneously get a bunch of ingredients and then show up at his friends' houses late at night to borrow their kitchen

- he tries to "spread the love" by doing this equally at all his friends places

- olive is his #1 baking buddy tho!

- also speaking of siblings he's the best older brother ever and he doesnt really like to be home but he'll spend time with his siblings

- .... his parents just keep havin babies

- anyway he's not as good at cooking bc it bores him so he'll get distracted and let things burn whoops

- tons of sleepovers at logainnes he's like a son to her dads

- gets a giant van to drive all his friends around in, it's decked out

- fixes holes in his friends clothes

- they all have a million friendship bracelets bc he just gets sappy and makes more or forgets he made one

- keeps everything ever given to him

- loves interactive science museums where u get to touch stuff more than ANYYYYTHIIIING. He will get lost in the dino bones

- and loves nature and hikes but mainly to look at bugs

- is the king of poster projects in class

- wasn't allowed to watch horror movies as a kid so logainne showed him some classic his freshman year and he literally couldn't sleep for a week but now he likes them, just mostly the campy stuff

- so stuff like little shop, rocky horror, r his the musicals bc it's cheesy campy horror AND theater!

- also first got social media like freshman/sophomore year and he just posts poorly taken pictures and occasionally answers his friends dms

- junior year on, a good amount of his theater peers develop like silly little crushes on him but he's completely oblivious and chip is just so jealous bc he gets no bitches

- he's the glue of the 25th annual kids bc he sort of just naturally started hanging out w them individually again and was like Oh shit why don't we all just hang out

- he is the only person marcy will cuddle

- (on that note he's the group teddy bear)

#again sorry this took so long i am uh. my plate is stacked asf #chip tolentino #leaf coneybear #25apcsb #25th annual putnam county spelling bee #headcanons #idk what to tag this #idk if I wrote equal amounts #meh #anywyay #i have like notes of headcanons for more characters too lol #didnt wanna put it all in one post and have it be super long lol

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forgedbondspod · 8 days

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Alright y'all it's day 5! It's time for more talk of the gods and the wonderful people who voice them. This voice actor needs no introduction because I've talked about them so much, but I shall introduce them anyway! Today we're talking Aphrodite and the wonderful @totcoc0a

Aphrodite as you might already know is the goddess of love (among other things). In myths, Aphrodite is forcibly married off to Hephaestus in order to stop people from fighting over her. Aphrodite, however, isn't pleased with this arrangement and cheats on Hephaestus with Ares. I wanted to turn that story on its head and give them both more agency, similar to things that had been done with the myth of Hades and Persephone. Aph and Ares being friends who were forced into a marriage just made sense with this idea, giving them the ability to find other partners without adultery as they didn't actually want to be married. I also wanted to explore Aphrodite as demiromantic in this story. She's the goddess of love and is always pictured as desirable, but what of her desires? Her trying to create strong bonds before falling in love felt fitting to her as a character and was something that I hadn't seen explored before so I decided I'd do it myself.

As mentioned up top, Aphrodite is being played but the incredible Tatiana Gefter! I met Tot last year when she auditioned for my other show, @thefringespod. They fully knocked their audition out of the park and became the show's Marigold (another love goddess, I swear I'm not typecasting you Tot). When I started to turn this idea from a book idea to an audiodrama idea, I immediately started writing Aph with Tot's voice in mind. There is just something so magical about Tot's voice that I had to write another show for her and hope that she would say yes. And luckily for me, they did say yes. They're bringing such a life to Aphrodite and I can't wait for y'all to hear it.

In addition to being in both of my shows, you can hear Tot in her own show, @souloperatorpod which ripped my heart in half (it's incredibly good y'all) as well as The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio, WOE.BEGONE, Wake of Corrosion, and a bunch of other incredible shows because she's so talented

If you would like to support Tot's work in Forged Bonds along with the rest of our amazing cast, you can check out our crowdfunder on indiegogo!

And to Tot specifically: I'm not sure what higher power I believe in but I know for a fact it was a blessing to meet you. You are an incredible friend and a ridiculously talented voice actor and writer. I'm so fucking proud of you and cant believe how lucky I am to be your friend

#pines notes #forged bonds #crowdfunding shenanigans #its once again tot appreciation time #because i love tot so much #and am so lucky i get to work with her

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nikkiiiscute · 3 months

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One Headcanon for everyone one in the neighborhood! (Except for u Home D:<)

Note that this is when everyone was still alive / human sooooo yeah.

🍎Wallace would sometimes weirdly talk to the puppets and would call them by his friends' real names. Example : "Julia's hair is soft today, Right Barnabus?... Yeah she's like a.. Hair master, hehehehe" "Said something about my hair? uhhhh.. Dory (Dory is a nickname for devil dorelaine) said not to touch the puppets during lunch... Hello? Wally?"

🐶Barnabus likes to have an airhorn to sneakily sneak up and it's kinda like this, "BWAAAAAHH!! hahahaha, I'm never getting tired of Aira" "*huff huff* First.. YOU KNOW I CAN'T STAND NOISE!!! Second... You.. Named your airhorn Aira? Third... Your paying for my book.. Do you have a 50? Thank you." "Aaalright alright sorry, Ayy how ya doin lil buddy?... Ehh.. Wally?"

🌸Julia would often give people nicknames that are fun (and may or may not be from Jonas (Jonesy) heres a look. "Hiya Bya! Sup Franko! You too Eeedee! Hello Popsie, good day to ya! Lookin good Barney! Howdy Howdy! Oh hi walls, Said something about my hair? uhhhh.. Dory said not to touch the puppets during lunch... Hello? Wally?"

☀️Byeol / Sally will come up with episode concepts with sammy Julia as they got a good story to tell and would show it to Dorelaine as an Episode Proposal kinda like this, "Ronald Dorelaine, What do you think of our most Astounding, Most Remarkable episode?" "Hope ya like it Dory! I like a new side character move in :>" "Oh just in time! What is your Creative Brain thinking about this Spectacular Script huh Wallace?"

🦋Frank will always have a book or two during Lunch Breaks so they can keep up with entomology / lepidoptorology while on the job, Why not we take a look? "Hiya darling, What's the new topic? Is it okay if I can see?" "It's about Chimeras, It's a rare thing with butterflies that can give them Asymmetrical Wings and yes dear, you can see the pages" "How you two lovebirds doin?" "Hiya Howdy, Doing great. Say, Do you know any sneak peaks for the new episode?" "Nada, But I got one more readin' buddy! Say, How'd ya like to know things about my favorite bug? ay Wally? "

✉️Eddie is clumsy in work, It's obvious that Byeol added this trait cuz he would ACTUALLY trip on set. Here's a nice preview. "Hiya Frank! I got the package ya- AAGH!! oof!... I'm A -Okay!" "CUUUUTTT!!! Eddie, You really need to stop being a klutz or else it will fuse into your characte- Ohhhh! That needs to be written down, this WILL be added to your character! Now I'll just ask Dorelaine for approval" "Aaand there's my clumsiness fused into Mr. Dear. Which is actually kinda cool. Ya hands still sweating Wally?"

🐛Howard is the person that prepares the sets and Eddie helps out, I feel like Howard would be indecisive about how the layout of it should be, Heres a snippet. "Gee.. I-I dunno if the flowers should be pansies or marigolds..Uhhhh I think both! then it'll be the main focu- THAGHH!! I CAN'T THINK OF A LAYOUT!!" "Ay! ay! Calm down Howdy! ya just need some brain rest and actual rest, Ya stayed up 'till 4! I think the 'Bodeguero' thing is getting to ya head. So, Whaddya say?" "uhhh, Sure thing barn. EDDIE!! TELL DORY THAT I NEED A BREAK!! AND TELL DORY MS. PERDIZ'S NOT FEELIN' WELL AIGHT!?" "Got that covered!" "*heavy exhale*... Oh howdy - do lil guy.. Didn't notice ya Walls"

🐦Poppy is prolly the one with the sewing / repair puppets as she can do the job either at Home or Work cuz she's convalescent like my mom. So she's rarely in the Poppy suit and Voice Acting, That's why Partridge is rarely seen. Last part I swear. "Hello dearies, I'm back from my doctor's appointment." "Hiya mothe- I mean! Ms. Perdiz! How's your stomach doin?" "Doing well dearie! now, you said something about Mr. Darling puppet having a tear? Hello? dearie are you okay? Mr. Darryl? Wallace?"

❌ Samuel is dead, He has no info on him. We are so sorry.

#welcome home #julie joyful #eddie dear #frank frankly #wally darling #poppy partridge #sally starlet #barnaby b beagle #howdy pillar #welcome home theory

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justmybookthots · 3 months

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The Prisoner's Throne

This is THE book. The book that's been consuming my every waking thought since I read its prequel in May last year. The book which, if I didn't manage to read any in 2024, would be the only one I read this year at all. The Stolen Heir was among my favourite reads last year, possibly even more than The Cruel Prince because of Oak's characterisation.

The last few days before the book release was agonising. Sheer, skin-flaying agony. When Ann Liang's 2024 release let me down after I'd spent months hyping it up—as did I with Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands—I have to confess I was terrified the same thing would happen with The Prisoner's Throne. Ann Liang is one thing, but this is Holly Black. The Prisoner's Throne is on a much, much higher pedestal for me than any other book in existence thus far. If this hurt me like the others did, I might really go into the worst kind of depression. (Yes, I'm one for histrionics… only I'm being perfectly serious.)

After a night of poor sleep—I am still very grateful that I managed to sleep, albeit fitfully, most of the hours away—I started reading this book at 7AM. (I'd downloaded the book at 2 in the night.) And then I didn't stop until I was done at 10AM.

First thoughts: THANK THE FUCK IT WASN'T A MASSIVE LETDOWN OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. Was it as good as its prequel? No. But it didn't end up anywhere as bad as my jaded, paranoid self had secretly feared, and for that I am grateful. Overall, I enjoyed it!! I saw quite a handful of negative reviews on Goodreads but I don't feel the same way. Granted, the book definitely has a few issues, but being too slow or character-driven was not mine.

Let me talk about some things I liked and did not. Beware: Spoilers abound.

Things I did not love:

I'm going to start with my most major disappointment. Oak, who is the highlight of this duology to me, wasn't as alluring as I found him in the first book. I think that Oak's character is written best when his POV isn't the entire book. I definitely LOVED reading his POV and welcomed it, but I also felt that having the entire thing in his perspective dulled some of his mystique. This is my personal preference, because I don't generally love stories that have too much of the hero's POV. I think Six of Crows is a good example of finding balance with Kaz's perspective and the other characters'. Also, because the story is in Oak's head, we don't see much physical descriptions of him. I miss all those parts about his adorable marigold hair and his golden eyes 🥺

I also miss his cleverness. He was very manipulative in the first book, and it was easier to feel impressed back then because you weren't in his head and you didn't know what was coming. In this instalment, he thinks a lot about playing the fool, over and over. It gets wearisome because I'm constantly being told but not often shown. In the first book, I was actually shown without being told at all—which is why it hit so much harder. Moreover, I don't think he did anything specifically very clever in this book? I guess he did use the wedding ruse to prevent a war, and he did find out what Wren was hiding, but he found that out too late and that was less cleverness than the plot being in motion.

There's a running theme in this book about being accepted and loved for your truest, darkest self, but… I don't think it was conveyed very well. In the end, he says that Wren is the only one who can love him for who he is, but it isn't convincing to me because it's so clear to me how much—and how unconditionally—his family loves him. A lot of his inner turmoil felt very contrived and self-inflicted, whereas I thought Wren's own self-loathing was a thousand times more convincing and understandable.

I was also quite confused by how much he loved Wren when their feelings seemed to be only gradually building in the first book. But he's completely head over heels for her at the start of this book and I wonder about the transition. I'd been hoping for some clarity because he mentioned in Book 1 that he'd loved a lot of different girls, so what made Wren The One here? I suppose it's because he didn't play the fool with her and she "saw him as himself"? I wish the writing was more convincing in this regard.

Genuinely a little baffled by the plotline about the Ghost. I'd thought we'd already covered his part in Liriope's murder in the Cruel Prince series. (I may need to reread the OG series to be sure.) But it's being rehashed again like ripping open an old wound. And I never knew Oak cared that deeply about his biological parents. My point is: Leave the Ghost alone!

I wasn't invested in Tiernan and Hyacinth's story. I skimmed a lot of their screen time together, but their fans will probably receive quite the treat.

Lady Elaine, fuck off!!! (That said, I do understand her role in the story, especially the climax.)

OAK TRYING TO KILL WREN AT THE END, SIR, SIR, PLEASE. DO NOT.

We didn't need the sex scene being SO IMPLICIT –- GIVE ME DETAILS, DAMN IT!! Now I feel empty.

Things I liked:

One thing I predicted when I'd read the exclusive first few chapters of Prisoner's Throne months ago: Wren's power came as a cost to her health. I was right. And I loved it. I'm not the biggest fan of overpowered heroines and her limitations were a great story point to me. Holly always does such an exemplary job in making her heroines, including Jude, badass and yet so human (more a figurative phrase for Wren since Wren is fae) and grounded. Also, in general, I liked Wren a lot in this book. My heart broke for her over and over. I JUST WANT WREN TO BE HAPPY AND I AM GLAD SHE GOT A HAPPY ENDING.

I had COMPLETELY forgotten about her connection to her mortal family and I am so, so happy we managed to resolve that in this book. The fact that Wren would do anything to protect her sister Brex moved me immensely. Holly did well in tying that loose end up, and hurray that Wren finally got to spend time with her family at the end of the book. 🙂

JUDE AND CARDAN!!!! Especially Cardan. He was such a gem and so intriguing in this book. Once I'm done writing this review, I'm going to reread all his scenes. No one can complain that Jurdan wasn't in this book—they were very, very involved in the plot here.

Holly Black's prose is still one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. It's my favourite prose of any author, period. It's succinct and poetic at the same time. It scratches an itch in my brain that I never knew needed scratching.

The ending where Oak goes to find Wren and he proposes was so lovely. Ahhh. I will always have a special love and fondness for them. Bless their baby hearts.

Oak supporting Wren when she was ill will NEVER not move my stone cold heart. The way he held her weight to keep her from falling while they danced...

Before I sign off, I want to say one more thing: WHAT IS HOLLY PLANNING WITH NICASIA'S STORY? Is she going to write / create a male lead for Nicasia? What's going on?? Holly pretty much confirmed that she's going to write something else in this universe, and I must KNOW what she has in mind. Nicasia was so unlikeable in the original series that I wonder how it would be like to read her as a heroine of her own story.

Holly, I'm right here, waiting for whatever you might throw at us next.

#book review #the cruel prince #the prisoner's throne #the stolen heir #oak greenbriar #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte

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anonymouspumpking · 6 months

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Completing your dream

¡Long Trafalgar Law fic!

Chapter 1

Summary: You are a girl looking to fulfill her dream, which is to become the best doctor the world has ever seen, but to achieve this she has become an apprentice to one of the most renowned pirates of the worst generation.

Chapter 2

Y/N I woke up with the sun's rays hitting my face. I got up, washed my face and looked at the clothes Bepo had left in my room the night before. The clothes were ugly; The uniform was a white jumpsuit with the crew's Jolly Roger.

After thinking about it for a few minutes, I decided to make a some adjustments: I cutted here and there to turn the uniform into a matching two-piece suit (cargo pants and a short-sleeved crop top). I putted on my boots and made my haur into a high ponytail to finally catch up with the crew at breakfast.

I was happily eating alongside Ikkaku, Saichi, and Penguin when I noticed Law looking at me with a serious face.

"What's that?!" Law said walking quickly towards me.

I looked at him confused. “My uniform, is there something wrong?”

“Why did you cut up the uniform y/n?”

“Because the uniform was ugly and boring.”

“Ugly and boring?” Law narrowed his eyes. He didn't share the same opinion as me about my uniform. “Is that how you see it?”

"Yeah". I nodded with a challenging look.

“The uniform is designed to be functional y/n, not for you to look like you are in a fashion show, do you think such a short top is practical?” Law said angry.

“I really don't see the problem, it's still functional and even more, comfortable. This allows me to move more naturally.” I looked at him defiantly.

“I'm glad that you are confortable in it, that's why it won't be any problem for you to wash all the dishes for today's and tomorrow's meals. It won't cost you anything to clean the bathrooms for 2 weeks either.” Law looked me in the eyes and gave me a small, satisfied smile.

“Tsk.” I turned around and continued eating with my new crewmates.

“By the way, y/n, when you finish washing the dishes I need you to come into my study, I will explain the inventory and the instruments on board to you.”

When Law was far enough away, Saichi spoke.

“I know that sometimes he seems very harsh, but once you get to know him well, you will discover that he has a kind side, don't worry.”

“Yes… I think he hates me,” I responded while using the fork to play with my food.

After waiting for everyone to finish their breakfast, I washed the dishes, and headed towards the captain study.

I knocked on the door.

“Bepo, I told you not to bother me, I'm busy,” he said from the other side of the door.

I opened the door and stuck my face out. “It's me cap, you asked me to come.”

Law nodded and I went into his study. Once inside I noticed that Law looked at me for a second and then opened his mouth.

“Are you going to call me like that now?

"How?"

"Cap?"

“Ah, what's wrong with that?”

Law sighed and looked back at his work. "Nothing"

“This is the submarine inventory. All our weapons and food supplies are numbered. It is necessary to take inventory from time to time to make sure anything isnt lost.” Law explained to me as if he were talking to a child.”

“These are the medicinal plants that I carry with me, every time we pass through an island, I try to get those that are needed, or look for those that are missing on the boat,” he continued talking with his mocking tone.

“Now, this is a marigold, could you tell me what the marigold is for?

"This is enough!" I said annoyed. “Could you tell me why you are talking to me as if I were a little girl?” I argued with the same tone that he was talking to me before. “I'm not a little girl, and for your information, I've been studying medicine for a few years now.”

“If you cut your uniform for no other reason than the fact that you didn't like it, you are actually acting like a little girl.” Law says bluntly, his tone of voice flat and a little amused.

“You're a dick, you know that?” I replied irritated.

“And you have bad manners, little brat.” Law looked at me for a second and then spoke. “I'm your captain now y/n, be careful how you talk to me, I really dont need another member in my crew."

I swallowed my pride and apologized to Law.

Despite the argument we had, Law continued to show me the plants he had on board and the medical tools available. He also showed me where everything was kept and the proper procedure for storing it.

"Well, that's all for now, I need you to study well the functions of the plants that I showed you. Tomorrow I will ask you questions about it." I nodded slightly.

“You can leave, and don't forget to pick up and wash the dishes on the table at dinner.”

LAW

After dismissing y/n from my study, I sat down to continue working on what I had left behind. I hated to admit it, but I felt a little guilty about the way I spoke to her in the dining room.

There was something about her that just made me lose control. The uniform wasn't that bad, and the “fixes” she had made weren't that drastic, she had simply cut the uniform in 2 and trimmed the top a little. It suited her well, highlighted her silhouette and making her look more comfortable with herself.

After working for a while, I heard someone knocking on my door. I raised my face a little irritated and let whoever was interrupting me, enter my study. When I saw a ball of white fur entering through the door, I realized it was Bepo and relaxed my facial expressions a little.

“What's wrong Bepo? Is there something bad?”

“Sorry to interrupt you captain, but don't you think you're being too harsh on y/n?” Bepo said timidly.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion and stared at the mink. “I don't think so, Bepo, she just arrived and she thinks she can surpass my authority. I am the captain of this ship and she has to learn to respect me even if she doesn't like it,” he said coldly.

“I understand that you want that she shows you somes respect, captain, but be careful with your words, sometimes they can be very cold and direct.” Bepo was already hiding behind a chair.

I sighed and returned to his work. “It's okay Bepo, I'll try to be more patient with y/n and not to be so strict with her.”

Bepo stood up, proud of his heroic actions, and walked towards the door when I stopped him.

“Just don't forget to talk to her and warn her not to go too far with me,” Law added.

“Yes, captain,” Bepo said happily while making a greeting gesture to the captain.

Y/N

Two weeks passed and I had to continue doing the punishments that the captain had imposed on me, however, he had seemed a little calmer and more patient with me. After the big scolding I received from Law, Bepo spoke to me and warned me about the captain's attitude.

As for my days within the crew, in addition to work on the ship, I had to continue with my studies and take lessons from Law every day. Now the lessons were bearable: Law didn't talk to me like I was a brat and I didn't want to gouge his eyes out every 5 minutes, we were even starting to get along well.

At dinner time I went to the dining room because Law asked us to be in there to talk to us about something important. When I walked in, I noticed Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo sitting at a table, so I decided to sit with them.

“I'm going out on a mission in two days, Shachi, Bepo and Penguin will go with me. “I want you to take good care of the Polar Tang and keep it clean and running.” Law shouted.

Whispers were heard from the crew.

"Silence!" “It will only be for two weeks, I will leave Jean Bart in charge.” “Y/n, I left you a list of material you need to know for my return.” “That's it, you can leave.”

“Where are you going with Law?” I asked the dynamic duo.

“To tell the truth, we're not sure either,” Penguin replied. “We just know that Law needs us for a mission,” Shachi said proudly.

I laughed for a while at the comments and jokes those two were saying when I noticed the captain behind us.

“Y/n come with me to my study, I need to talk to you.”

I nodded and followed him.

“I'm sorry I can't dedicate this whole month to you, some things came up and I'll have to be gone for a while.”

“Don't worry captain, I'll be sure to study the topics you left me written down.”

Law made a small smirk.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x you

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