#its still!! being a box and sittin there!
Text
Anyone else worried that the box was never destroyed?
#puppet history fanart#puppet history#the professor#professor mcnasty#the substitute#puppet history spoilers#like defenestration is so cool#but the box!!!!#its still!! being a box and sittin there!#shane madej#i need the box gone#anway this is what i think might happen#hopefully the professor is as strong as#beef boy
866 notes
·
View notes
Text
ESCAPISM
Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
summary | after being broken up with, you plan on being sad and lonely but others convince you sex just sounds too good not to drown in. You end up meeting someone at a bar, who you might just love forever.
words | 2k
warnings | smut (18+) oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pinv, DRUGS (don’t mix drugs and alcohol), substances, high sex, subby reader, drunk sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, little angst, self pity, breakup bullshit, swearing, sex jokes, bitches, arguments, mention of cheating, idiots in love, a little bit of a sad ending.
A/N | i have been living off of escapism and i couldn’t not write a fic about it, imagine meeting eddie in a hot and sweaty club... Reader is called bean as a nickname in this because it’s cute, don’t judge. Also, this has a platonic love circle with y/n, robin, and steve (although he’s not really brought up in this). Their like a lil family. I might do a part two if yall want. DON’T DO DRUGS KIDS. 18+ MINORS STAY BACK.
a little context if you care to listen find myself in a shit position the man that i love sat me down last night and he told me that it’s over
You shoved a box in his hands with tears streaming down your cheeks, “There. it’s all your shit, now fucking go.”
He grunts a little but stays put, “You know i still care about you right.”
Sighing you start to push him out the doorway and onto the cold, “Have a good life Jason.”
You aggressively moved your hand toward the door signaling that he needed to leave, when his heavy body wouldn’t move.
Huffing as your eyes start to burn,
“Just leave, never ever talk to me again.”
He stares at you longingly as if he hadn’t ended just fucked another girl.
“I’m sorry.”
You slam the door and smack your face in disgust,
how could he have done this to you?
- Three weeks of sulking later -
Robin groaned, “Oh come on y/n! We have to go out and get some, or at least you. God knows how long its been since you’ve been eaten out!”
Your eyes widened and you huffed, “Jesus Fucking Christ Robin! I’m fine!”
She stares into your soul arms crossed and eyes squinting.
Raising your hands in defeat you exhale the air you had held while having a staring contest with robin, “Fine, but i don’t need some random dude to make me feel better.”
Robin shrugged, “Ehhhh not sure about that, but you at least need some weed or something.”
You smile and snuggled deeper into your bestie, “Love you robin.”
She grins and looks over at you, rubbing your shoulders with her soft palms.
“Love you too bean.”
Nights with Robin had been frequent since the breakup. It would start the same very time too, you’d call sobbing about him or about your depression and she’d show up at your doorstep with open arms.
Things would be so different without Robin, you can’t believe you have a friend as amazing as her.
-
dumb decision
The next day you saw her, she came in with a wide mischievous smile and two occupied hands, holding with clothes fit for a prostitute.
“Robin what the fuck is that?”
She shrugged, looking from the outfits to you.
You grasp the thin fabric if your hands, it did feel really nice..
“A little something to cheer you up? We can look like hot chicks, maybe fuck, maybe get some free drinks.”
You hesitated, free drinks..
“Alright fine.”
-
and i’m out on the town with a simple mission, in my little black dress, and this shit is sittin
So here you are, sitting in the back of the club holding a glass of champagne waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet and fuck you into oblivion.
As much as you didn’t believe in fairytales, this might as well be one.
You scoff as a girl in your ‘friend group’ makes some lame joke about being horny and ready to party, and Robin hands you a joint and leans down to the shared table you were sitting at to snort another line.
You take a long hit from the shared joint, “This is so fucking depressing.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a slut.”
Some other girl across from you shouts over the music blasting around you,
“What the fuck did you just call me?”
Your face starts getting hot, you did not leave the comfort of your house just to get hated on by some random friends that Robin met up with at a shitty club.
“I called you a slut. I mean come on, you got cheated on. It seems like you were too slutty for poor Jason.”
She grinned and you took another long hit.
Damn can this shit start working?
“Do you even hear yourself? Your a fucking dumbass. So stop running my energy your not even worth it.”
Her smirk disappeared as your face stayed unfazed and stoic Your getting fed up with these girls around you.
How did she even know his name? Bitch probably fucked him too.
Grabbing your glass, you got up and headed to the bar for some more liquid courage.
“If the drugs won’t fucking cooperate maybe the alcohol will.” You groan.
Walking up to the bar you had almost wished you stumbled a little. To at least show your a little high, but no.
“What do you want?” A bartender grunted to you, if you weren’t so done with people’s attitude you might have actually cared that he was grumpy.
“The strongest shit you have.”
He took a deep sigh and smiled, “I’m sorry i was a bit rude there,”
You shook your head, “It’s all good buddy.”
He grabbed a glass and a bottle of what looked like a mix of Spirytus and tonic, you tut and grin. “What makes you so sure i wouldn’t like something sweeter instead of tonic?”
Looking up at you he chuckled, “You don’t look like a sweet type.”
Putting a hand to your chest you fake a sniffle, “I’m offended. I’m totally the sweetest person you’ve ever met,” you pause waiting for a name. He smiles realizing why you’re not continuing, “Eddie, my name is eddie. What about you sweet stuff?”
“Aha funny, i see what you did there.”
When you finally tell him your name his face softens, “That’s a beautiful name, it suits you.”
Eddie reaches for your hand, “Would you like to hang out with me after my shift?”
You squint your eyes, “That depends.”
His face contorts, he’s confused.
“On what sweetheart?”
Smiling you put your other hand on top of his, moving in closer to him. “On how quickly you can finish serving everyone else and start serving me.”
You grin while he just stands there awkwardly, “You don’t understand what i’m saying do you?”
Eddie awkwardly chuckles and shakes his head.
“Not in the slightest.”
Smiling, you reach for his collar to pull him onto your lips. You feel him tense up but soon relax and kiss back, “You don’t have to kiss me just because I kissed you.”
He smiles at your concern, “Don’t worry,”
Leaning in as close as he can from across the bar counter, he pecks your lips again.
“I wanted to.”
Watching him grin as he writes his number down on a nearby napkin and slides it over to you just makes you even more horny.
“Text me, I get off at one.”
You tuck it in your bra and smile, “Oh, I definitely will.”
He nods and walks off to serve more people, “Can’t wait sweetheart.” and you watch him the whole time. You watch as his arms flex while tossing around drinks, you bite your lip as he smiles at other customers.
You would have watched him the whole night but robin eventually found you staring, all alone and took pity on you.
“You look fucking depressing,”
Scoffing you get ripped from your spot on the stool, “I’m good right where i am robin.”
You wish that you would start to slur your words a little. I mean, it would make sense after all the glasses of alcohol you’ve been inhaling.
“Alright, let’s get you home.”
Robin may have come to get wasted, but she doesn’t want you to regret your decisions more than you already do now.
She slid her hands under your slick armpits and held you up by your waist, thinking that without her you probably would have fallen straight on your face.
And yet, you were fine without her.
Scoffing to yourself and shaking your head, you push her away. “Just because i’m not with him anymore doesn’t mean i need you to take care of me!”
You could tell Robin didn’t expect you were somewhat sober, she thought you were just wasted like all her other friends. But she shakes off the hurt and surprise in an instant, she knows what you’re doing.
“I don’t think that you should be yelling at the only person who’s here for you.”
She walks away with a huff and leaves you alone. While, you frown and turn away to look at eddie. Who is still serving anyone with the flick of a wrist.
“Hey! Eddie.”
He turns to you and smiles mouthing a hello back.
When you wave at him to come over, he can’t help but feel a growing buz at the bottom of his stomach.
“What can I help you with sweetheart?”
“Your shift is over.”
You watch the confusion fall over his features, “I thought it ends in thirty-” Smiling, you grab him by the collar and pull your lips to his ear. “Your shift is over Eddie.”
He almost purrs at the way your voice whispers his name.
~
You push him against his bedroom door and moan into his mouth, “Mfmh Eddie.”
Eddie smiles at your whining and flips the two of you around, pushing his groin to yours. The making out only stops for a second as eddie pulls at your shirt, you grin and help him take it off.
Harsh puffs are pulled out of your mouth when Eddie latches his lips to your throat, sucking red spots all over it.
“Agh,” You pant and pull him closer to your neck, and push your center towards his own.
“I need you Eds.”
He grunts and pushes you onto his bed, grabbing his belt and ripping it off his pants.
You start to drool watching him undress, his body was lightly toned but oh so beautiful.
As you start to reach for his dick he stops you and sighs, “As much as i’d love for you to touch me, I need to be inside you.”
He grips your dress and pulls it off you in an instant groaning at the way your panties were drenched in your juices.
“Is that for me?”
You whine and shake your head. “It’s all f’ you Eds.” Pushing your head back you moan as he puts his fingers on your clothed core.
He chuckles and rips your panties off, pushing a finger in between your folds and huffing at how warm you were.
“A-ah Eddie!” Your body shakes at the sudden contact, and he pushes the finger inside you making your eyes widen and back arch.
“Mmh is my sweetheart sensitive?”
You whine as he sticks another finger inside, pumping in and out slowly.
“Eddie more please!” You beg and plead as he just stares down at you with a smile.
He nods and smirks, “Whatever you say sweetheart.”
Eddie moves closer to you and starts to lick your clit. You just about cum then, but continue pleading for more.
“Please, please, please!”
Soon enough the licks turn into sucking and slurping. As if he was a man starved, Eddie eats you out like a meal. Your back arches even more when you start to feel a coil in your stomach building up. As if he heard you, Eddie sucks on your clit harder and it snaps.
Your body shakes and your thighs close around Eddies head as he continues licking you through your orgasm.
Eddie then comes up for air, as he smiles and huffs. “Your pussy tastes fucking amazing.”
With a whimper you pull his body closer to yours and reach down to grasp his cock, “Need you.”
He almost growls as you pull out what you wanted most and stroke it, “Damn sweetheart, your hands are soft.”
You chuckle and help position him so he can push in comfortably.
When he does finally fuck you it’s slow and soft. At first, you thought it was just going to be sweet until he started speeding up and pushing in harder.
As you moan he just pistons faster and rougher.
“You like that sweetheart?” He grins when you moan loudly in response, not being about to give a worded answer.
You can feel his shaft getting harder as he gets close to release.
Eddie grunts and huffs, pushing as fast as he can into you.
“Ugh sweetheart i’m gonna cum!”
He reaches down to your clit and rubs, as you writhe and squeal gripping his shoulders. “Oh, Eddie!”
The both of you reach your peak together, hands pushing against each others bodies.
When Eddie comes down from his high, he gets up and grabs you a towel wiping his cum off you.
“Here you are sweetheart.”
He smiles and gets in bed next to you trying to hold you close, but when you feel something other than lust for him you push away.
“This was just a hookup, an escape. Okay? Nothing more.”
Eddie frowns, but nods moving away from you. After a couple minutes of silence, you decide it’s too hurtful to just stay when you’re trying to convince yourself you aren’t good enough for him.
“I think I should just go.”
#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson#eddie fanfic#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things season 4#escapism#070 shake#smut#smut fic#stranger things#stranger things fanfic
350 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey can I request a Dante x fen reader where the reader was an assassin sent to kill Dante but then later on Dante ends up saving the reader and then she catches feelings for him?
Very cliche I know but still
Its ok if you don't end up doing my request lol
But if you do thank you :3
oke!
DANTE SPARDA X ASSASIN!FEM!READER
content: i suppose it's a lowkey fluff romantic thing? Oh and almost assasination attempt
The light posts shone your path as you walked across the lonely streets and alleys of Redgrave city, steady, looking for a certain face, your target's face. The Legendary devil hunter Dante Sparda.
You didn't even need to ask for more information regarding your next victim, who got offered a tempting amount of money for his death, everyone knew about him. Oh, the easy-going and very powerful devil hunter, always saving the day.
As for how were you going to actually get rid of such strong man, you suppossed you would wait and analyze the best strategy to come in and tackle him.
Not before too long, you found yourself in front of the building he calls his office. You stop in your tracks to look for a window to sneak in and check is he's there.
You managed to lump inside one of these old windows, jumping back up quickly before hitting the floor and potentially draw your target's attention. Crouching, you walk through the office, your right hand holding a sharp and small dagger, ready to just stab someone with it. Your face was a reflection of your focused state, looking for the slightest signal of your target or anyone nearby.
Lots of paper, pizza boxes, energy drink cans and more objects were all over the floor, his desk was perfectly clean, a big contrast to the whole place, you roll your eyes, you have seen better crime scenes.
Pretty much to your dissapointment, he wasn't nowhere to be seen in here.
"Great, now God knows where on earth he is...". You mumble to yourself under your breath, it wasn't the first time you had to go around the city looking for someone, but this was probably the only place you could sneak up on him, who doesn't let their guard down when they are in their places?
After you exit the building jumping through the same window again, lifting your hood up your head again, you sit for one second, resting your back against the cold bricks of the wall.
You remembered the man who requested Dante's assasination gave you a folded piece of paper with content that could be useful for you on your hunt, you didn't take a look at it before, thinking Dante was just going to be sittin' in his office desk.
After grabbing and opening the paper, you take a good look at it.
It had photos of him from the front and profile photos too, his height, details about strenght, and right at the end of the long list, there was something that actually could help you on your chase: the places he usually goes to or he is seen at.
Your expression inmediately lightens, as if you were looking at a treasure map.
"You can usually find him in his office, sitting and just scrolling through magazines. He frequently goes to the ice cream shop too."
Oh. Ice cream shop? better give it a chance, you thought to yourself.
You stand up from the ground, and begin walking hastily towards the only ice cream shop you knew in Redgrave City.
Walking through streets and alleys again, you began to notice. The sky is now pitch black, the starry sky was here, you should hurry, or else, he may not be in there by this time of the hour.
As the Minutes passed you kept walking, eventually arriving to a small plaza in which some people were taking strolls around, sitting or talking despite the hours of the night.
Just as you were halfway on the plaza, a loud rumble snaps you out of your trance, it's the ground, something is trembling under your feet, and it seems to be a very dangerous being.
The people around the plaza panicked, standing up from their seats, not knowing what to do. You looked down to notice the rumble was mostly coming down the ground you were standing on.
"Shit".
As you cursed under your breath your steps got faster towards the safest spot you could see right now, though it would probably be useless against the thing on the ground, you already expected for it to be a demon or anything like that.
Oh, if only Dante was here~!
You ran to some houses nearby, hiding in the small alleys between these, You saw how the cobbled floor was aggresively lifted up by a wide creature. You walked some steps back just to make sure it couldn't see you if it even had vision.
The creature had a big mouth and from it there sprung out two black limbs, probably it's tongues, ressembling arms. His gigantic mouth was surrounded by small and very sharp teeth, you felt goosebumps up your spine as you imagined being devoured by those terryfing fangs.
People ran away in horror, screaming and pushing each other for the sake of surviving, the creature began charge at every moving being it could see, people hid and as the creature was walking closer to your hiding spot, it was too late for you to hide.
Your mind was racing with all kinds of thought, fear, panic, horror.
You had already seen the horrors the demons and devils caused everywhere they passed by, yet you could never get used to it.
The creature kept screeching, slamming against a bench, walls, thankfully not against people.
Eventually, after charging and smashing so many things, the demon found it's way to you, spotting and inmediately running at your direction, screeching.
A whimper left your lips as you inmediately try to back away in the alley, hoping it would not see you anymore, but who are you fooling if not yourself? In the moment of panic and fear, you cornered against the stone wall.
For some seconds, the idea of fighting the demon lingered in your mind, but all you were carrying was the small dagger and tools for breaking in...
You were doomed.
So you braced yourself, preparing for the horrendous and painful end awaiting you, feeling the presence of that creature towering over you, and then-
...then?
You did not feel anything, all you heard was a loud bang followed by the sound of a very big item swinging around, followed by more screeches from the demon, but...as in pain.
You did not dare to open your eyes, still embracing yourself, your body jumped at the loud thump of the demon falling in front of tou, feeling it's fangs on your shoes...
"Can't even enjoy my Strawberry sundae in peace, heh".
You never heard that voice, yet, you knew who it was...
"Hey, Sweet Cheeks, it's okay. It's dead and stiff on the ground..."- Dante spoke to you, reaching closer to comfort you.
The demon's blood and it's body on the ground was the first thing that you saw, opening your eyes, startled. Raising your head, you met your savior.
Messy, silver and wavy hair, stubble beard, a cheeky grin and his eyes on yours, hands going to your shoulders to snap you out of your scared state.
Your brain was struggling with processing what just had happened, you almost die while looking for your target and you just got saved by that target.
His gloved hands gently moved your shoulders, you tried to say something to him.
"I- that thing- i-it..."- tried, anyway.
Dante stood in silence for a moment, listening to your babbling, before opening his mouth to speak again.
"Come here, you need help, you don't look okay.."- the man turned his body to walk our the alley, gesturing for you to walk with him.
This was your chance, even dizzy, nervous and in a state of shock, you knew it.
Perfect timing, alone, in a dark alley, no one was around because everyone ran away thanks to the demon, and he was turning his back to you....
Quickly, you pulled out your dagger and prepared to strike a blow, crouching and walking silently towards him, yet, when you raised the dagger, you couldn't move youe hand...
This man, he saved you and probably more people from that demon....and not just today, every week, you could hear people talking about Dante's work and his incredible skills....were you really going to kill him..?
You mumbled a curse, before bringing the dagger down and sheathing it back in your jacket. Just while you clear your thoughts....
"Behemoths been really annoying and aggresive lately"- he says, turning his head to you, before analyzing your looks.
"That's an odd, vestiment..."-he adds up, raising one eyebrow before turning his head to the plaza again, your eyes open wide and try to mask your startled look, faking a confused expression....god....if he finds out what you do for a living...
"..never saw a demon of that type so big like this one.."- to try to have a normal conversation to push these thoughts aside, you make a little comment on his.
"They're not this big usually, oh"- he stop on his tracks and faces your body- "The name's Dante. Dante Sparda.."- he offers you a gentle and almost recognizable smile.
You nod your head in response, and, you doubt to tell him your name, but then, does it really matter? He's going to die in a few minutes....right?
"I'm Y/N.."- you quickly answer, nodding your head...
"Good..You...are not injured..right?"- He frowns a little, trying to look over for injuries on your body.
"No, no, i'm fine, d-don't worry"- you quickly answer to him, moving your hands in a reassuring way, it was strange how he seemed so concerned for a random woman he just saved.
"It's just, i find it weird that an assasin has no injuries..."- He said to you, looking in your eyes with a stern look, awaiting for whatever excuse you were planning to say.
Your body froze on the stop, eyes open wide.
"..i-i'm not..?"- you tried to keep your calm, failing miserably.
"Oh?then who was that strange figure on my office's window some hours ago...? It looked very similar to you..missy..."-He did not believe you, leaning closer to you..
Shit, you were done, he wouldn't believe you now at all..
"I-....."-then, it was when you decided to be honest...
"I...am indeed...an assasin..but, i won't kill you..."- you tried excuse yourself, looking at the ground, worried for your life.
Dante lets out a little hm, before leaning even closer.
"I wonder what i can have you do for me as a way of compensation.."- The man starts to humm, thinking. Hey, you were not getting killed, for now..
"How about...you buy me, a Strawberry sundae..you know., it melted while i was rescuing you, huh."-he lets out a toothy grin, before stepping away and walking to the ice cream shop.
You were actually bewildered for what just happened, seems like you won't get that juicy payment.
...
He seemed pretty much happy to have his sundae, savoring every bit. You were just looking to the table, a little embarrased.
"Y'know, i suspected someone sent an assasin to kill me, but i never expected to be a cute girl."- Now he was just teasing you, this man was wild. You grunt and look away.
Minutes later, you let your guards down a bit, talking to him and eventually, your night became a nice one, between flirts and small talks, you found this Dante guy nice.
You ditched your request, he does not deserve to be killed.
Weeks later, it became a routine for you, to meet at ice cream shops and pay each others food sometimes. It ended up in you two in a strange love situation, he confessed first, chuckling at the thought of him, falling for an assasin...and you, for trying to kill him.
He still teases you for the way you met and your intentions, but hey, now you got a hot devil hunter boyfriend.
#devil may cry x reader#dante sparda x reader#dante devil may cry#dante x reader#dante x y/n#dante x you
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey so I'm not jewish, but I grew up in a very religious school which had some v negative impacts, so if you don't mind me asking was/is there anything like that in judaism? Or really just other religions in general but in this case I'm asking specifically on like ur experience.
Bc i grew up with ppl constantly blaming stuff on 'oh its for God' and 'Oh dont do/talk about that its sinful' and 'you have to be faithful' and like I was wondering if this is common in other religions, or if this just some extreme fanaticism i had to grow up with
also srry if I use any wrong terminology or anything, like I said I'm not jewish so pls correct me if I said anything wrong
Ty!!!!
P.S. ur rlly cool, i love seeing ur reblogz n stuff :)
HELLLLOOOO this has been sittin in my ask box 4 quite sum time so imma answer it now !!!
first of all id like to say that this is actually a very common question that i get from non-jewish friends.
and i would have to say, it all depends on interpretation and sect of judaism !!!
when i was super young, i was raised without a religion. i knew my mother was jewish and therefore i was, and i was very curious about judaism !! i started going to a jewish camp at around age 7.
my mother, as i previously stated, is a jewish atheist (but participates in jewish traditions) and is relatively socially progressive. my father was raised catholic and is (in his words) "socially progressive and fiscally conservative".
but anyways, as i have explored judaism and my place in the jewish world, i feel most aligned with reform judaism. me and my mother are trying to become more involved in jewish traditions. i am still on my religious journey and i always enjoy talking to other jews about their experiences with religion and on being a jew in a mostly christian society.
reform judaism is also known as "progressive judaism" or "liberal judaism". it's based around the idea that as jews we should adapt our traditions and beliefs to our modern day environment.
so due to this, i didn't grow up around extreme religion-based homophobia, transphobia, and the like.
however, i have quite a few friends who are growing up in orthodox/conservative jewish households and their experiences sound much like yours.
but as we know, not all jews or sects of judaism are the same :)
i really enjoyed answering this ask !!!!
7 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Today’s compilation:
Art Laboe’s Memories of El Monte
1991
Doo Wop / Soul / R&B
Back with some of that southern Californian Art Laboe stuff. Laboe, who passed earlier this year, was a legendary Los Angeles radio DJ who not only ran a label called Original Sound that pioneered the concept of taking songs from years past and compiling them onto an LP to give birth to the oldies comp, but he also organized and hosted dances at a venue called the El Monte Legion Stadium throughout the 50s, where he’d gather his fans to sway along to live performances from some of doo wop’s most vital acts at the time.
The original version of Memories of El Monte came out in 1960 and only contained 12 songs, but this 1991 re-issue contains 20, and it does a little bit of updating and replacing to channel some of what Laboe was about after doo wop’s popularity had fizzled. So, a little more than two-thirds of this album is remembering those El Monte dances, while the rest of it supplies a smattering of some not-so-remembered soul classics from the 60s and 70s.
Things kick off with The Penguins’ “Memories of El Monte,” a metasong that makes multiple references to and mimics bits of other doo wop songs that made those El Monte dances the stuff of legend. And believe it or not, it was co-penned by none other than Frank Zappa. Zappa himself was a fan of Laboe and his dances, and when he took the song to Laboe, Laboe gushed over it. Cleve Duncan of The Penguins, the group most famous for one of doo wop’s most cherished ballads, “Earth Angel,” sings lead on it, while Zappa takes up xylophone duties. And while it didn’t chart nationally, the song’s still considered something of an LA classic, and its lightheartedness is also a little bit of a harbinger of the wacky and zany stuff that Zappa would bring to the rock and roll table some years later.
Now, that’s a fun and novel one, but I’m really not into most of the rest of this doo wop fare. A lot of these are of that slow and romantic ballad variety and what I personally tend to crave in my doo wop are those uptempo tunes in which each group member, from bass to falsetto, has their own specialized, individual part to play. And then when you combine all those parts, the finished product ends up being a piece of true, dynamic beauty. But these tunes are not those; these mostly just feature a lead vocalist with a solid voice who’s backed with soft harmonies. Pretty simple and far less interesting than other types of doo wop, in my opinion.
But the soul joints on here make up for it. There’s a long 12-inch version of The Intruders’ “I’ll Always Love My Mama,” an excellent nine-and-a-half-minute-plus Philly soul extravaganza that was co-written by the legendary production-and-songwriting duo of Gamble & Huff; there’s Pete Wingfield’s “Eighteen With a Bullet,” a mid-70s joint that features his falsetto while deliberately calling back to the El Monte dance doo wop sound; and then there’s Billy Stewart’s “Sittin’ in the Park,” a lovely mid-60s tune that applies cool reverb to the vocal harmonies during its choruses. Rapper Slick Rick also references the song heavily in his excellent 1995 single, “Sittin’ in My Car,” in which he samples directly from it while also interpolating its chorus.
Definitely not my favorite Laboe comp (check out this five-CD box set from his Oldies But Goodies series for some of his best stuff), but the soul tunes on the back half are not to be missed.
Highlights:
The Penguins - “Memories of El Monte”
The Intruders - “I’ll Always Love My Mama”
Pete Wingfield - “Eighteen With a Bullet”
Billy Stewart - “Sitting in the Park”
The Shields - “You Cheated”
#doo wop#soul#r&b#rhythm & blues#rhythm and blues#oldies#music#50s#50s music#50's#50's music#60s#60s music#60's#60's music#70s#70s music#70's#70's music#soul music
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Wednesday: 9/14/22
I took my break, but I’m back to most of my writing time being on the weekend with work back in full swing. 😩 I did take a little writing break, during which I was sleeping rereading PH to catch up on where we were, but I’ve also been fiddling with this “How to Nab a Last-Minute Babysitter” plunny Quick threw my way...
Now, in Fred’s defense, the circumstances leading up to Luka Couffaine spotting a giant box making its way up to his front door and flipping the hell out wasn’t exactly his fault.
It was, as most Incidents in Luka’s life had been, Dingo’s.
It had started a few months back, when there had been a knock on the door and Luka had gone to open it, halfway through doing up his tie, to find a largish-sized box sitting in the hall. He had been confused, as the delivery company usually came pretty early in the day and – as far as he knew – neither he nor Marinette had ordered anything. He was also pretty sure neither Harmony nor Melody had ordered anything, either – they’d been checking their account daily since the Magic Wand Incident, and nothing suspicious had popped up in their order history recently.
Luka had looked around, but the delivery person was long gone.
“Darning?” he called, leaning back into the flat. “Did you order something?”
Marinette walked out of the back, her head tilted as she put the backs on her earrings.
“No,” she said. “Why?”
Luka bent to the box, but…there wasn’t even an address slip on it. What the hell…?
He warily poked at the side, and the box…giggled? He made quick work of the tape sealing the top, pulled one of the flaps back, and came face to face with his nephew.
“…Kurt?” he asked, blinking at the giggling boy.
“Hey, Uncle Lulu!” he said, the name sounding more like ukulele with his lisp.
“What…uh…what’cha doing here, buddy?” he asked. He opened the other flap and the boy sat up, grinning at him.
“Sittin’,” he said. Luka’s eyebrows soared as he started climbing out of the box. “Daddy said.”
“Where…where’s your daddy, bud?” Luka asked, looking around, but the hall was still very empty. He tried not to scowl as he stood – Kurt was still watching him. “Ding! Come on out – this isn’t funny!”
There was no answer.
“Dingo! C’mon, man!” he called, a little louder. “We have plans!”
Kurt just giggled and toddled past him into the flat, and Luka groaned as his head tipped back. He picked up the box, tossed it somewhere in the living room (which only made the kids squeal louder, as boxes made the best toys to an overactive mind), and fished out his phone as he headed back to the bedroom. Marinette’s eyebrows rose as he came in, searching for the sitter’s number.
“That asshole better pray Priya is ok watching another kid,” he grumbled, raising the phone to his ear. “And he’s paying her tonight.”
#wip wednesday#miraculous ladybug#luka couffaine#marinette dupain-cheng#dingo king#kurt king#ver fic#house band#babysitter fic#y'all this fic has been one train wreck after another#dingo starts it#juleka finishes it#heeeey y'all'll finally get to meet the flower garden!#well three of them
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ilene Chen! I really got a vibe from them in KotM that there was potential for something there. And several fics where Mark is involved in Monarch post-KotM has them as friends and I my little shipper heart just wants MORE.
(continued from this ask) I hope this satiates your shipper heart, friend! I know it’s not much, but I gave it my best shot! Takes place in what is essentially the If You Give a Titan a Brownie ‘verse, tho I’m not sure if this is something I’d add to the official series.
Moving On
Maddie sat in silence for a long few minutes after they broke the news to her, biting at her lip, anxious. Beneath the picnic table, her knee bounced erratically. She kept her eyes on the empty pizza box sitting between her and the two adults on the opposite bench.
Her dad and Aunt Ilene let her process in peace.
They were together. Dating, Dad had said. And—and Maddie wasn’t stupid, okay. He’d explained last year that he and Mom were getting a divorce. She knew there was no way they’d ever get back together, that the three of them would never be a full family the way they’d been when there were four of them.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see solid proof of that. That her dad was thoroughly moving on.
And… well. It wasn’t like Mom hadn’t moved on from Maddie already. From both of them. The last time she’d seen her mom—the only time she’d seen her since accidentally running away—still haunted her bad dreams.
Maybe that meant it was okay for Maddie to move on, too. Aunt Ilene being Aunt Ilene—she might even make it easy.
She finally nodded to herself and looked back up at the two of them.
“You all right?” her dad asked, and she could tell he was on the verge of getting up to circle the table to hug her.
As nice as a hug sounded, Maddie couldn’t be entirely sure she wouldn’t start crying if he did, so she nodded again. Taking a deep breath, she tried to shake her melancholy and instead took a page from Uncle Rick’s book to slyly ask, “So you got a crush on Aunt Ilene, huh?”
Aunt Ilene laughed, casting a matching glance at Dad. “Yes, Mark, do you have a crush on me?”
“This is a new record for making me regret something,” he bemoaned, smushing his face into his palm. “In what world is it ever a good idea to tell an elementary schooler your weakness?”
Getting into it, Maddie sang, “Dad and Aunt Ilene, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”
Grabbing a handful of grapes from the open tupperware, Dad launched them at her, making her squeal and duck down for safety. She just barely heard Aunt Ilene playfully mutter, “You don’t want any kisses?”
Maddie peeked up over the edge of the table and marveled at her dad’s red cheeks. “Whoa,” she said, “I didn’t know you could blush!”
“Kill me,” she thought she heard him plead into his hands.
Still smiling, Aunt Ilene winked at her, then pulled a ten dollar bill from her purse. “Why don’t you get some ice cream for us all to help your father cool off, hm?” She inclined her head in the direction of a Dippin’ Dots stand at the other end of the park.
“Deal!” Maddie cried, scrambling off the bench. “I know what Dad likes, but what about you?”
“We can share a banana split,” Dad interjected, hunched over like he was begging an uncaring god for freedom from his merciless eight-year-old daughter.
“…two spoons, though, right?” she asked suspiciously. ’Cause otherwise, eww, cooties.
“Yes,” Dad whined.
“Make it a large,” Aunt Ilene added. “For yourself, too.”
Maddie paused. Leaning toward her dad, she loudly whispered, “She’s a keeper.”
She dodged his blind swipe at her, laughing, and ran off across the park.
• • •
Mark waited until his demon of a child was gone before emerging from his despair. Ilene was smiling somewhat smugly at him, and she was a cruel, cruel woman.
“Was that a no on the kisses?” she asked.
He could only be glad Maddie hadn’t continued the song with its second verse, because talking about things like love and marriage and children wasn’t in the cards yet. He might actually have had a heart attack if Maddie had asked about any of those things.
Grumbling, he leaned closer to her and ignored the accursed burn across his face when she kissed his cheek. No way was he chancing Maddie seeing anything more than that.
“I think that went well,” Ilene said, leaning one elbow on the picnic table.
“Yeah,” he agreed. And it had; her quick acceptance was worth poking into later, but for now, he’d be grateful for the lack of tears and/or screaming. “So, that’s the easy one of the way.”
“Ling will be happy for us,” Ilene insisted for the nth time.
Ling already suspected something was up and had been giving Mark the stink-eye for the past week, no matter how much Ilene claimed he was imagining it.
That it was only the past week was a testament to their subterfuge, though. They’d tentatively—officially, for all that it made him sound like a high schooler—started dating two and half weeks ago. It had felt far more natural than Mark had been prepared for. And far better than those last months with Emma.
The sporadic texts and emails with updates about Maddie in the beginning had slowly turned into Mark semi-regularly sharing updates about himself, had turned into frequent small talk, had turned into meaningful discussions, and had ended only when they were living in the same base. Because then the late-night texting became late-night chats in the lounge, the dark ocean shifting shadowy blue tones across each others’ faces. Sitting across a table became sharing the couch.
And then it was all shoulders pressed together, pinkies tentatively brushing, and shy eye-contact.
Forget those last months with Emma. Nothing about his time with Emma had felt like this. She’d been a whirlwind, all perpetual motion, a mind so frantic she could barely contain it. They’d been young, and he had barely known how to take a break himself, so it’d been fun.
But never peaceful. Never this bone-deep contentment.
Mark would never really regret his time with his ex-wife. He regretted the way it ended, but not those bright years they’d been together, burning like a pair of torches ready to blaze a new trail into the world. Certainly not his children, not Maddie and not even Andrew. For all the heartache, he’d never regret any of it.
But he could move on. He could admit that his fire, especially since San Francisco, had settled into a smaller, steadier flame while Emma’s had gone roaring into an inferno. Mark wanted these quiet moments with his daughter, not the hustle and bustle of progress. Emma could dive deeper into the mysteries of the Titans, always searching, always unsatisfied, aways hungry for more. Godzilla as the family pet was more than enough for him.
He peeked over his shoulder to check on Maddie, just in time to see her twist around and point back at them. A woman with a toddler on her hip followed her finger.
Mark raised his arm to wave at the concerned mother. Beside him, as she intertwined their fingers together, Ilene, smiling, did the same.
#i answered a thing#anonymous#godzilla fic#if you give a titan a brownie au#star's stories#life and times of star
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
€Unexpected Acquaintance€
Assisted by:: @jinjinjinjin
❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃
Sukuna just wanted this day to end. He was already in a bad mood from the storm last night, where he got little of his much needed sleep, and his mood had only gotten worse when he was faced with a bunch of "nature friendly" bastards protesting near the docks where his boat was tied down.
Now, he just wanted to get his daily load of fish for the market, and have a nap without dealing with any other goody two shoe hypocrites. He could already feel the headache building up behind his eyes.
Though the gentle rocking of the boat over the surface of the water did ease him slightly. People besides other fishermen were always so confused when he actually said something about himself and it happened to his be career in fishing. They were always so astounded when he said he could stay on a boat for a whole day. Weaklings, all of them.
Rubbing at his sore eyes, Sukuna glared at the surface of the horizon and took a sip of the alcohol in his canteen. Tucking the tin back into his wader's pocket, he patted the pocket for safe keeping.
Walking to the front of the boat, he checked his net markers he left a few days ago. Sukuna gasped when he saw his marker bobbing up and down frantically. Getting his equipment ready, he tugged on some gloves and grabbed at the net right under the marker.
Taking a breath, Sukuna started tugged on the net. Grabbing every piece of net coming from the water, Sukuna huffs as he pulls the net further and further from the water. The sound of splashing water reached his ears and he smirked in victory.
Putting all the access netting into one hand, Sukuna quickly reaches behind him for the mechanical hook. The machinery on his boat was built and bought by him only, so only he knew how it worked. By reaching for the net first, he can easily tie the access onto the hook and pull up the rest of it out of the water.
Doing exactly what was needed, he tied the net to the hook and grabbed onto the leaver and started cranking the leaver clockwise. The machinery raised the net out of the water better than he ever could. The load he hauled onto his deck made him smile and rub his hands together gleefully.
" This shipment is definitely worth a pretty penny. Now, all I gotta do it sort you out, fish sticks. "
*Slap* "Who you callin' fish sticks, blubber mouth?! "
Sukuna froze. Looking up, he raised his hand to his face and wiped away some water the fish that had been thrown at him left on his cheek. Peering down at the fish now flopping on his deck, he gave the thing a death glare; as if that would give him any answers. He must really be going crazy-
"Up here, blubber-for-brains. "
His eyes snapped up towards the voice. But the air in his lungs escaped as if they were punched out of him. A human(?)'s upper torso was visible at the top of the net. It was leaning against the hook of the machinery and was throwing and catching a fish in its hand.
Sukuna raised a brow, " What the fuck? "
The thing raised one of its brows back, " Nice use of language, Oh Smart One. I thought you humans were supposed to be intelligent. Though, every one of your kind I've encountered uses fowl language, so smarts must just be a myth. "
Sukuna growled at the things snarky commentary, " Oh yeah? And what kind of intelligent creature like you gets stuck in a fishing net, huh? So much for being smart. "
The thing snarled, showing off rust colored stained teeth dyed by no doubt blood as sharp as many of Sukuna's own fileting knives. It held tightly onto the fish in its hand, " Watch your mouth, human, I still got a whole lotta of ammo here, and your face is lookin' like a big ol' target from where I'm sittin'. "
Sukuna rose an unimpressed eyebrow and pulled out a harpoon gun he kept in the captain's quarters, " Mine hurts worse. "
The thing flinched back and hissed at the gun, but slowly set down the poor he probably squeezed to death in his panic. The thing made a whiny sound in the back of its throat, " I didn't choose to get stuck here. I was getting chased by some shark mers. Those nasty ones only know the smell of blood and the next potential meal. I'd choose to be anywhere else right now, trust me. "
Sukuna huffed, " Yeah, sure. " Putting away the gun, Sukuna sighed and looked back up to the sulking thing. Looking closer, he was the slightest shine of scales decorating the cheeks, neck, and forearms of the thing. Its eyes were steely and sunken in, as if it's seen things beyond it's life time.
Sukuna chuckled upon realization, " You're a mermaid, aren't you? "
The mer scoffed, " Merman, thank. But 'mer' is just fine. I still don't get why ya humans always gotta gender code things. Damn, just call us what we are? "
Sukuna chuckled again, " What? Nuisances? "
The mer hissed again, " We wouldn't be if ya humans knew to keep to yerselves. Ain't this section of the coast off limits to fishers like yerself? "
Sukuna shrugged, not giving an answer. The mer scoffed and crossed it's arms over it's chest. Sukuna looked at it up and down, taking in everything he could. He hummed delightfully.
The mer must have caught on, " What'cha lookin at me fer? Think I'm some sorta snack for yer to eat? "
Sukuna shook his head no, " Nah, I was just rememberin how much one of your kind goes to sell on the blackmarket. You gotta be worth something. No rich bastard would give up the opportunity to call a thing like you pet. "
The mer's eyes went thin, but already creamy skin paled considerably, " You wouldn't... "
Sukuna rose a brow, " Oh, and why wouldn't I? I could definitely use the money. "
The thing stayed quiet, before it soon started to shake. Sukuna was about to sneer and comment about it being weak, but paused when a face formed from agony and rage shot up to glare at him. Sukuna had to keep himself from tensing and tried to look as calm as he could be.
The mer growled, " That's all that ya humans are. Selfish and greedy monsters only willing to do something if you get money in return. Do you know how many of our kind is sacrificed, hunted, and killed just so the others can live? Just so you humans can play god and reap what we mer's sew. "
Sukuna gulped, remembering the auction show he was emailed an invite to since he contributed a large amount of fish to the CEO of the company. It was a disgusting show of wealth. How millionaires and billionaires fought over a small little thing that held a resemblance to the one right in front of him.
The mer wasn't done, but tears of grief started to roll down it's eyes, " How many of our guppies, our children, are pulled from our arms to be sold like live stock?! You are no better! "
Sukuna had enough of this tantrum, " Do not bundle me with those people! I'd never harm a child, even if I am considered a monster by other people. I will not allow it to be done by a fish like you! "
The mer shrunk back, breathing irregular and struggling, like a faint wheeze. It swallowed roughly and looked away. Sukuna rumbled, now over flowing with guilt he felt he should not harbor. Looking back up, he became slightly alarmed at the shallow and wheezy breaths the mer was taking.
Mer's need water, his mind supplied. Sukuna growled, and hackles raising when he caught the mer flinching again. Walking away from the net, he went down below deck on got out a giant glass tank he kept in case he needed to keep a fish alive for more profit.
Taking it up the stairs and on to the deck, he set it down on some secure boxes and grabbed a bucket to start filling it with water. He had to make haste though, or the mer would die from drownin? Suffocation? And all of this work would be for waste.
Once the tank was full and covered from the beating ray of the sun, Sukuna walked over to the leaver controlling the hook and rotated it counter clockwise. He watched as the machine lowered the net onto the deck and he let go of the leaver. Once the machine stopped, he stepped up to the net and untied it.
Being this up close and personal to the mer, he watched as the sun made the scales look iridescent. Slipping his arms underneath the torso of the fish being, he pulled it out of the other fish and dragged it towards the tank. The mer roused slightly, trying to fruitlessly push Sukuna away. The bigger man scoffed and dropped the mer into the tank.
The reaction was instant, the mer took a deep breath through the large gills covering it's side and it slumped against the rim of the glass tank. Sukuna watched, looking at the mer's tail that could he classified as art in itself. It was beautiful, though he would never admit it. The thin tarp Sukuna draped over some boxes didn't stop the light from the sun bouncing off the glittering scales.
Sukuna's gaze went back up to the mer's face, startling to see the mer was also looking at him. It's hair fell in it's face, blocking out most of it. It puffed, blowing some of the strands out of it's eyes to get a better look.
Sukuna hated the way his chest constricted at the show. The mer raised a webbed hand, and Sukuna slowly took it and shook it. He made a face when he pulled it back and fake gagged at the slimy feeling left on his skin. The thing laughed at his disgust and shook it's head, getting water everywhere.
It smirked, " The name's _____ _____. What's yours, blubber man? "
Sukuna sneered at the nickname, " That's not my name. It'd Sukuna Ryoumen, nothing else. "
The mer smirked, " Well now I gotta call you that every time I address ya. "
Sukuna growled, " Don't you dare. " The glint in the fish's eyes didn't quell any of the building dread that sat in the bottom of his stomach. He really debated on if he should sell the fish or not.
❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃
#anime headcanons#jjk x male reader#ryōmen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#x male reader#male character#mermaid male reader#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna x male reader#tw blood#tw gore#tw fishing#tw harmful endangerment#alternate universe
214 notes
·
View notes
Note
For the character ask: Razputin Aquato!!! :D
First impression:
This is a hard one bc my first impression was from 2009, but I thiiiiiink beyond the initial "WOW ITS INVADER ZIM" hype my impression must have been something like thinking Raz is cool and funny? One of the earliest drawings I can remember doodling of him were Raz surrounded by the hand of galochio and Raz reading his camp pamphlet while sittin on a lev ball so I can assume my fascination with him did start at "he's got some interesting issues going on" even if I wasn't particularly good at expressing these thoughts or thinking too hard about him at the time.
Impression now:
What a fun, stellar kid character. He's funny, he's a little stinker, he's dedicated to what he believes in, he makes mistakes, he both acts wise beyond his years and just like a 10 year old. He's a wonderful protagonist and I think he's truly the heart of what makes the game shine, he has a heart and humor he brings into the levels that I think the games would be lacking without.
Favorite moment:
There's soooo many great moments with Raz... hard to pick a favorite! But I think a moment where Raz, the boy, shines is when he's first meeting the mote of light. Here he is standing in front of the remnants of this person that to him is some random nobody from Otto's brain bin, and his first instinct is to talk gently, and follow him around, and figure out a way he could help. He isn't even actively trying to in that moment, but he exemplifies the qualities of a true psychonaut (in Hollis' terms) there quite wonderfully.
Plus that moment really lets the character animation shine because all there is to work with is Raz, a Light Source, and a big Empty Black Box. His character animation is absolutely spectacular.
Idea for a story:
I think Raz bonding with his family could make for some sweet post-game story material!
Unpopular opinion:
I don't think Raz would ever unlock a maligula type fight or flight complex unless some INCREDIBLY non-canonical shit happened to him. Raz has insane mental defenses, which I'm sure will only get better with age, while Lucy's major weakness was that she had the mental defenses of a wet tissue due to her time opening her mind with her friends. It also just feels like it in some way misses the point of what an utter, huge and personally specific tragedy Maligula is for Lucy. Maligula is a part of her, not just anybody.
Favorite relationship:
Raz and his Father's bond has always gotten me to go 🥺 I've thought about the ending to the first game a lot and what it meant for a game to take Raz's dad and say "he's not evil, he's just a parent who's made some mistakes that Raz is justified in being mad about but they're still mistakes that can be rectified with time"
Augustus' dialogue with Raz in the second game is also all incredibly sincere and cute, "we psychics understand each other, right?" hits me good
Favorite headcanon:
His goggles help block out bright lights and his helmet blocks out sound because he's got sensory issues
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wonderwall-part 2
Summary: Y/n find out something that changes the course of her relationship and life forever.
Pairing: tony stark x reader x bucky barnes
Warnings: angst and angst and angst, panic attack, swearing, some bitter sweet fluff,
note: I know its a weird change cause i went from she/her to you and stuff but i like writing you more than her so here we are pfft also i mention civil war but this story doesn't fit in the timeline it just fit for the scenario.
Wonderwall masterlist
You and tony sat on the ship with IVs being stuck into you. bucky sat next to you “hey... wanna talk about it? he ask softly. you shake your head. “not now not yet” you say with tears falling down your face. you had cheated on him. you cheated on the love of your life the person you'd been with for 3 years. Not only that but with someone who has tried to kill bucky on multiple occasions. Tony moved next to you. “Hey...” he said with a sigh. “Promise me we will never ever tell them about this” you say with a panic. he nods frantically. “that's exactly what i was going to say.” and with that you two spent the rest of the time in silence.
You sat in your room. It was 4 days after you got back. you felt weird and had been getting sick for the past few days. The others assumed it was due to your body still adjusting to being on land with consistent water and food. but you had other ideas as to why this could be happening.
Your hands shook as you paced the room. “fuck fuck fuck ok it'll be ok” you said to yourself. you walked into the bathroom and opened the pregnancy test box. panic was all you felt as you took it. you set a timer and walked back to your room. you continued to pace. what would you do if you were pregnant. what would you tell buck? what would you tell tony?! you two promised not to tell anyone. the timer went off. you put your head into your hands. “ok its probably negative i mean what are the chances” you say walking back to the bathroom. you heart was going at a pace that was scary. your whole body was shaking. you grab the test and flip it over.
positive.
you stared at the 2 lines. you felt tears fall down your face and your breathing become rapid. a panic attack that's what this was. you fell to the ground as your breathing became uneven. “no no no no no” you say getting louder. you curl up and feel your whole body shake. you try desperately to grab for every breath but its like inhaling nothing. you start to cough from lack of oxygen and tears. snot ran down your face. you grab onto your hair and scream into your legs. the door immediately opens and bucky rushes to your side.
“hey its ok im here” he says putting his hand on your shoulder. “count with me ok” he says. you barely hear him it's like being underwater but you nod with what strength you have. “ now 1″ he says. “1″ you reply dryly your throat is dry and your lungs feel empty.
you two count to 10 slowly. you gradually catch your breath. the shaking stops and you feel more exhausted than ever. he pulls you close. “wanna talk about it?” he ask kindly. you look down seeing the pregnancy test and bucky sees it too. he grabs it and turns it over. his breathing gets deeper and he stands up. he walks back and forth and nods. “tony?” he ask with an angered tone. you nod. his nodding and pacing gets faster.
he walks out the room. you stand up quickly and chase after him. “buck bucky don't” you say quickly seeing him walk towards the one door that would fuck up everything. he nods hard and fast. You feel the tears fall faster and faster. “bucky stop it!” you yell at him. Tony opens the door and immediately is met with a metal fist. “fuck!” tony says holding his nose. Bucky pushes him again which shoves tony down. bucky get on top and keeps hitting him. “bucky! stop!” you say going towards him you try to just pull him but that does nothing.ok next plan. you grab his shoulders “Stop!” you say using your powers.
you keep pulling him and he does stop. he falls back into your lap. “you promised me you'd never use your powers on me” he says looking up at you. “i'm sorry buck” you say tears falling still. his head falls back onto your stomach. tony looks up at you his face bloody and beat. the metal fist definitely did not help. he looks at you confused. “im pregnant” you say to him. you see his eyes widen. “wha-what” he says shaking his head.
“shes fucking pregnant with your damn child” bucky says trying to pull out of your arms. you panic and hold him with all your strength. “sleep” you say feeling him go limp in your arms. tony just blinks looking down at the floor. “your....” he says trailing off. his breathing gets deeper.
Doors open in the hall. natasha is the first to come out then steve. Bruce slowly emerges. Wanda and vision come out in a worry. Clint is the last to come out hes geared up ready for a fight. “what's going on?” nat asks. they see tony and bucky's bloody fist. “I thought we were past this?” steve ask in a panic. you look up at wanda and natasha.
Steve takes bucky away from your lap and takes him to the main room and lays him on the couch. You stand up with natasha and wanda's help. vision,clint, and bruce still look concerned but less worried. “anyone gonna tell us what happened?” clint ask.
Bruce hands tony a rag to put on his possibly broken nose. “uh let's go sit on the couch.” wanda says leading you to the main room. bruce helps tony to the couch. “I should...” you say nodding to bucky. They nod as you slowly go to him. you put your hands softly on his head. “wake” you say and immediately bucky shoots up angry and tears edging his eyes.
“buck buck hey calm” steve says grabbing bucky's shoulders. Buck stares at steve angrily. “sooo?” clint ask sitting on the couch. nat and wanda sat down too. you were in front of all of them. “tony and I spent a month and a half up there.” you start off. everyone sits up more. neither you or tony had spoken of your time up there sense yalls return.
“We saw no end and I was about to have a meet and greet with death himself. Tony was giving up his food and water to keep me going” you say looking down messing with your hands. “I don't understand why this led to bucky beating she shit out of tony.” Clint ask. “let her finish” steve said. “We got closer than ever and had agreed that there was no chance at us returning. We were desperate to stop the pain to just be with someone be cared for before the end. We slept together.” you state. bucky's breathing gets more rapid and his hands form fist. everyone starts to yell at tony natasha tried to silence it which only made her a target.
“Shut up!” you say yelling at them. They look at you surprised. “shut up before we end up with another battle and let me fucking finish what the hell i'm saying before attacking tony which by the way it takes two to tango so shut up please.” you say looking at the floor hands making fist. everyone turns to you and shuts up even bucky and tony.
“Now I am pregnant with tony child. Now before you all start yelling and attacking tony just try to understand the situation.” you say. “Understand the situation?!” bucky yells. steve tries to calm him. “no no just no ok. He mmm he saw her vulnerability and used it!” bucky says standing up and pointing at tony.
“Buck no that's not it he didn't do that. I saw a world without you with no one except me and tony on that stupid ship dying slowly and mercilessly.” you say feeling tears falling again. natasha stood up and walked to you. “I know your pissed as hell at tony and at y/n but right now” she points at tony “you are going to be a father” and she points at bucky “and if you stay, which i think you should, are going to be a step father so let's just try to deal with that right now.”
Natasha held you by her side. Bruce stood up “I’ll help it whatever way I can.” he said. “me too” clint said standing. “I will too” vision said standing. Wanda stood “You always got me.” she said with a small smile. steve looked at bucky then tony and then you. He sighed and stood up “you got me too” he said with a nod.
you swallow “thank you all of you” you say softly then look to tony and bucky. “You definitely have me i'm not going to bail on my child just because its a complicated situation.” tony said standing up. bucky let a soft growl out. “buck?” you ask hesitantly. He looks up at you and shakes his head. He walks off and soon yall hear a door slam.
You dropped your head. “Give him time” nat whispered to you. you nod. she nods to steve and steve nods and walks after bucky. natasha takes you to your room nodding to tony who nods back and walks to the kitchen. sittin on your bed you look down at your stomach. there's a person in there well soon they'll be. nat sat next to you “how're you feeling?” she ask. “I don't know...Im going to have a child and it's not the child of who i always pictured it as. I broke the love of my life's heart and broke tony and I’s promise.”
“bucky just needs time is all steve is talking to him and i'm sure tony understands that you couldn't keep it a secret you two made that promise when you didn't know you were pregnant and don't worry you have all of us here to help and protect you.” nat said. “I’m an avenger...I had a father who used me as a testing subject and gave me powers i couldn't control till i was 17 how am i supposed to be a parent? Their father is a billionaire who is ready to die at any shot and their possible step father was born in 1917 and was brainwashed to be a murderer.” you spew out.
“you'll be ok we are all broken and a mess but together we can raise this child. I promise. We will figure it out” she says rubbing your arm. The door opens and in comes tony with a glass of water. “figured you could use this” he says walking towards you. nat looks at you and you nod. she stands up and walks out.
Tony sits next to you. “i'm sorry” you say immediately scared of tony being angry. “no no don't apologize you had to say something its not like you could just avoid questions when your stomach grows.” he says with a chuckle. “y/n i want you to know i am going to be the best damn father i can be and if you and bucky stay together...because you and bucky will stay together i know he will have a huge role in that child's life and i'm so glad they get 3 parents who love them more than anything in this world. I will protect the with my life I will not die for them. I will live for them.”
“Tony...” is all you can get out through choked sobs. you hug him holding him close. “thank you” you say pulling away “what about pepper?” you ask concerned. “I’ll tell her just need to let this” he moves his hand to the room “settle before any more people get mad” he says. the door slowly opens and an exhausted, messy haired, red eyed, wrapped hand, bucky opens the door. upon seeing tony he sighs.
“can I speak to her alone?” he says with no emotion. tony nods and walks past bucky out of the room. tony closes the door behind him and walks towards the bed.
he sits next to you and sighs. “buck-” you starts but he cuts you off “don't....let me speak” he says. “I am pissed as hell at you dont get me wrong...but i understand...you didn't see a possibility as being back here all you saw was death. I will be the best step father i can and the best boyfriend i can be. I am far from forgiving you but I still love you and I don't want us to end and this child is amazing news even if they aren't mine. I will be as much of a father to this kid as I can be and I will raise them as my own. I'm here for the long run.” he says looking at you. you smile and hug him. “I love you too bucky...thank you” you say.
This journey was far from over but for now the world felt damn good. This kid would have 3 parents who love them more than anything or anyone in this world.
#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#tony stark x reader#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark#mcu#mcu x reader#mcu fanfiction#marvel#marvel cinematic universe
94 notes
·
View notes
Note
OOH I GOT A GOOD REQUEST,,,, How about Jonathan’s reaction to each of the jojos, and their jobros?
*Jonathan looking down at his absolutely fucked family tree, a single tear running down his cheek*
Listen...I always say that *insert literally any character* is the best parental figure but it's Jonathan hours which legally means I can call Jonathan best dad in this post regardless of anything I’ve said in the past about any other best dads.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Lemme just implement my soft Jonathan headcanons first:
-Soft man. The king of manly tears. Tears down toxic masculinity like a fucking bulldozer
-Knits AND crochets. He never had a mother growing up so when Erina came in with all these lovely, traditionally feminine skills, he wanted to learn ALL OF IT
-Arguably gives the best hugs out of every Jojo (Josuke is a pretty close second, though)
-Since this post is just an impossible dimensional pocket where anything can happen, him and Erina live in one of those old grandma cottage-houses with a comfy, old couch and tacky curtains and a really cute little garden
-Again, if this is a pocket dimension he’s definitely hosting the Joestar family reunion there
-Just one of those houses where everyone feels comfortable
-Is impossible to piss off (except if you do anything to the people he loves)
-Always speaks in a very soft, understanding voice even when he’s mad/disappointed
-The father figure all the Jojos wish they had
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Part 2:
-You know that face you make when you watch someone you love do something insanely stupid but you’re still trying to keep positive because you know from experience that trying to stop them is futile?
-Just this constant, wincing smile?
-Yeah. That pretty much sums up Jonathan’s expression within any vicinity of Joseph Joestar
-He loves the man. He really does. But oh my god is he a dumbass
-Jonathan is the type of man to like,,,make bread and talk about his feelings but Joseph wants none of that shit and that’s ok,,,Jonathan can and will find another way to bond
-Regardless, he loves his Himbo grandson and the two of them end up talking about Erina and Speedwagon and a lil bit of Hamon too :3
-CAESAR on the other hand—Jonathan is so fucking happy to see a descendant of the Zeppeli’s continuing the whole Hamon thing and managing to be friends with Joseph
-Although Joseph never wants to talk about it outside of fighting, Jonathan and Caesar both share this tender love for the healing aspect of it :’)
-He teaches Caesar how to do stuff like grow/heal plants and flowers and Caesar ends up growing his own sunflowers in Jonathan’s backyard :)
-Smokey reminds him of Poco and he literally just wants to protect him with his whole heart hhhhhhhh
-Suzi Q also reminds him of Erina, but he still has no idea how she puts up with Joseph’s bullshit (and whenever she can’t decide what to wear, he always helps)
-He penalizes Lisa Lisa for being a fucking Hamon coach and also smoking cause like-
Part 3:
-Hgggghnn HEAR ME OUT but between him and Joseph, Jotaro arguably has more qualities of Jonathan including this wonderfully secret, sweet, sensitive side
-Jonathan grows flowers using Hamon and braids them into Star Plat’s hair (he has practice when doing it with Erina) :))))
-Joot claims to hate the bread that Jonathan bakes but if he DOES make it y’all know you’ll find him sitting there, eating it, and talking about his feelings like a good man should (but only if no one else is around)
-Arguably the only responsible father figure in his life and the only one who would scold him for literally going to jail
-Also apologizes profusely for not killing DIO the first time ;(
-Kakyoin is the kind of person you could just sit in silence with for hours doing shit like reading or painting or something and Father Jojo is loving the vibe
-YES JONATHAN WOULD HAVE A HOME GARDEN and every year he grows cherries for Kak >:)
-Pol is a bit extreme for him, but if he can handle Joseph then he can handle this man
-As rich, Victorian boys often did, he definitely studied french as a kid and can surprisingly hold a pretty good conversation
-Him and Avdol!!!! Feed his chickens together!! And engage in lovely, civil conversation :)))))
-Holy definitely inherited Jonathan and Erina’s sweet nature and she’s always down to compare knitting techniques with him :)
Part 4:
-Is it....is it safe to say that Jonathan just adopts all of Morioh?
-Ok but Josuke gets along with everybody (Rohan doesn’t count hgfjgh) so you already know he’d be up for some nice familial bonding (though he wouldn’t show it initially)
-I feel like he’d be hesitant at first because him and Joseph are already on weird terms and he doesn't wanna “intrude” on the Joestar family or anything like that
-But our man Jonathan is here to reassure him that he’s still a part of the family and his cute little grandma house door is always open for him when he needs it
-Jonathan would bake that bread and Josuke would be sittin’ on that couch pouring his heart out before that shit even comes out of the oven
-Josuke’s the biggest out of his friends so getting completely engulfed in a nice, warm, loving Jonathan hug is the best shit
-Like instant serotonin :)
-Crazy Diamond doesn’t have any hair so no stand braiding :( BuT Josuke will let his hair down sometimes and you already know master weaver Jonathan Joestar is braiding in some purple flowers and shit :)
-Okuyasu isn’t that smart academically, but our man has a big heart and that’s all Jonathan cares about
-Jonathan always makes soup for him whenever he’s down because Oku’s mama used to make him soup when he was sad too ;-;
-The two bond over losing a mother at a young age and never being close with their father and feeling unwanted growing up and its the sweetest shit
-Koichi would just,,,,stare in awe because between Jonathan, Joseph, and Jotaro he feels like a fucking ant (and is honestly kinda scared)
-The first time they meet, Jonathan tries to ruffle his hair and accidentally PUSHES THE BOY INTO THE CONCRETE and he feels so bad after, that he spends all night knitting him a new sweater
-He gives it to Koichi with apologetic tears in his eyes and Koichi fucking LOVES IT with all his heart
-Rohan is extremely intrigued by all of this shit and they two of them spend hours talking about Jonathan’s life
-Rohan ends up giving him a painting of Erina and now Jonathan sends him his favourite cookies on his birthday every year
-Also him and Tonio are real good buds and Tonio never yells at Jonathan for “eating impolitely” like George used to because he knows its just a sign that he loves his food :)
Part 5:
-What can I say? Both Jonathan and Giorno got a love for flowers and life, and that’s literally all they do together
-Like,,,their happiness is in one giant, contagious loop because when Jojo’s really happy, his Hamon will just make shit bloom everywhere and when Giogio is happy, his stand will go fucking bonkers and change shit into plants
-Ok but what if,,,they braided flowers into each other’s hair? :D
-Jonathan would bake the bread. Giorno would sit hesitantly on the couch. The moment this kid takes a bite with that GOOD jam he’s like “HAHA there goes my stoic front whoops-”
-Jonathan thought Giorno would get cold in the winter so he crocheted a heart the size of his tiddy window and gave it to him for Christmas
-As I said previously, him and Bruno would go fucking hard on tea parties and all that shit -Both are the obvious mom friend, it’s impossible for them not to get along
-Abba’s a little,,,iffy about him, but eventually grows on him the more Abbacchio actually starts warming up to Giorno (for whatever reason)
-Jonathan’s never really had to deal with teenagers that much (aside from when he was one himself,) so he really has no idea what the hell to do around Narancia and Mista because they’re so young and he feels like a fucking grandma around them
-But they’re always really sweet to him and ask if he wants to play COD but Jonathan has no idea why they could wanna play with a fish so he just smiles and laughs and hopes its a joke :’)
-When Trish wants her nails done, best jonadad is here to do it. She wants her hair done? Jonathan’s got that special brush that doesn’t hurt when you’re doing tangles. Hugs? Infinite hug supplier, babey. He’s really out here doing whatever it takes to keep best girl happy
-Fugo is,,,quiet,,,but he always comes over and eats the strawberries in his garden when they’re ready for harvest
-He even helps make them into jam :)
-He also teaches Fugo Hamon breathing techniques when he caught wind of his anger and it actually helps him a lot
-He considers everyone in that house his family too, and always invites them over for social events at his pocket dimension grandma house
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Jonathan Joestar lives in my head rent free...
If you’ve got a head canon idea, my ask box is always open!! <3
#jjba#jojos's bizarre adventure#jjba headcanons#headcanons#jonathan joestar#joseph joestar#jotaro kujo#josuke higashikata#giorno giovanna#jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind#diamond is unbreakable#battle tendency#ask-c-c-cherry#phantom blood#cw: smoking
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
i wrote a short fic in the style of cutscenes from twisted metal black if peacock was a playable character
the story under the cut
First meeting calypso: one year… one whole year since those punks took everythin’ from me. My arms, my legs… my best pal.. one year being in this goddamn cuckoo nest. Haven’t been able to take care of myself, bein fed bein washed… its humilatin’.
But one day this big shot waltzed inta’ my room, called himself calypso. Told me he heard what happened and wants ta help. Told me he knows where those jack asses who took my life from me hide out… and he would help me if I competed in some kind of drivin’ competition. Well I reminded him that I couldn’t drive even if I wanted to given my “condition”. Prick was smug when he told me he had that covered, brought in these three thuggish fella’s; a rather tall scruffy man with boxing gloves for mitts, a short stocky meat head with a mean look, and some kid… with the same eyes as me… none.
And like that I agreed to compete… anythin’ to give those palooka’s their just deserts… and beats sittin in a corner all my life.
after beating minion: The big mook was a hassle to bring down but nothin we couldn’t take care of, the explosion on the otha hand was something else. Rubble nailed us, knocked me out cold for what felt like hours but the entire time I dreamt those same nightmarish memories I had in the nut house. The last thing I saw before they took my eyes was marie, scared cryin in the corner, then all I felt was pain. I never saw ‘em comin when they took my limbs… all to make an example to the other poor saps in my position. Then I remembered what my new pals told me, why they are here. Andy was boxer, went by andy the anvil for bein so hard to push ova’, lost his first round eva’ to some kid outta state. Those mobsters, same guys who hurt me, happened to bet on him that night… made short work stitchin those gloves to his skin, cant grab nothin’ anymore but still a speed demon behind the wheel.
The kid, Avery, a real dead eye with the weaponry, knows his way around a gun or two despite bein blind. Apparently, he was there, saw them destroy me and toss me aside; they took his eyes afta’ he tried to stand up for me. Escaped one night with the help of the last pally, Tommy, an ex-mobster, left afta’ seein the true horrors of his last crew, swore to help anyone affected by his past.
When I was comin too I could here them, panicking shakin me awake and sighin in relief when I opened my sockets, “boss” they said “we thought we lost you”… boss huh? I like that.
After beating the game: It took ages and a lot ‘a blood shed but we made it, standin in front of calypso was… intimidatin to say the least but it was time. I told him I demand… no that WE demand our wish, to get revenge on the jack asses that did this ta us. He smirked told me that the ones im lookin for are called the medici, group of Italian mobsters run by this mook Lorenzo, sounds like a stiff to me. He informed me that he had a special plan for me ta get my revenge, presented me with these prosthetics, arms with freakish eyes… puttin them on was, amazing! Felt like I never lost em in the first place… felt right. He also gave some upgrades to andy’s gloves, barbed wires and a brass plating, somethin ta leave a mark. Avery received an arsenal, enough to arm an army. Guns, blades, baseball bats and even chainsaws… it was magical. We thanked calypso and drove off ready to take on tha world.
With tommy’s inside knowledge we found the medici’s hostin a formal ball, ofcourse I dressed tha part, a pretty little numba complete with the tallest hat guns could steal. We drove through those doors and went guns blazin’. All my life I heard kid’s cryin for their mommy’s beggin these jerk wads to spare em… brings a tear ta my eye when the shoe’s on the otha’ foot.
Finally we found Lorenzo, curled up under a desk in his office, I saved somethin’ special for him, somethin’ I know he deserves.
As we drove off we shared a few laughs and cigars we lifted off the corpses. I might not know who my real family is but I think I found an even betta’ one already. And with a bit of impromptu “chainsaw surgery” on that old sack of shit, I finally had a hood ornament that looked just like me.
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
The mike x borrower meeting sounds interesting, you should definitely write it!
not the exact same thing but this is a direct copy-paste from something i wrote a year ago lmao i’m putting it under the cut, in which mike makes a new borrower friend breakfast
“G’morning, little buddy,” a soft yet cheery voice rang out above me. My eyes snapped open to see Mike looming over me. I shot up and tried to scuttle back, but not only was my leg wrapped up nicely, but I was, too. I merely fell back into the mountainous folds of the cloth.
“How’d ya sleep?” he asked, pulling a chair up and seemingly glossing over my flinch.
“O-okay,” I stammered. I was sleeping well until I was rudely awakened.
“Was it too hot? Too cold?”
I shrugged. “Too big.”
Mike let out a small laugh. “Funny. Lemme getcha somethin’ to drink. Y’ever had coffee?”
“What do you think?” I asked, trying to be funny but instead coming across as rude. Mike raised his eyebrow at me, but amusingly smirked.
“You care to try it?”
“I--I guess I could… I’ve always smelled it. Never been able to sneak around and grab any.”
“Mmm, alright,” he said, standing back up. I marveled up at him as he moved around, almost not able to believe that I was watching him like always, but I was close. I didn’t have to hide, or worry that he might see me.
“Hmm…” Mike mused, filling his mug to the top. “Didn’t really think how I’d pour ya a cup.”
“I’ve got a cup back in--” I started, but stopped. It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him about the nook.
But of course, he heard me. “Back where?”
My eyes darted to the table. “N-nothing. Nowhere. I--I wouldn’t be able to make it there, anyway, with my leg.”
“Are you talkin’ about where you live?” Mike asked, leaning back against the counter and casually sipping his coffee. As if this was a casual conversation.
I nodded. “It’s called -- well, I call it my nook. Just where I sleep and keep all my things.”
“Sounds very cozy,” he said, taking another sip. “Y’know, I could always bring you wherever you--”
I laughed, shaking off the thought of one of them holding me. “You wouldn’t be able to bring me to the nook, Mike. You’re too big.”
A smirk grew across Mike’s face. “Too big, huh? Can’t just stick my arm in a hole or somethin’?”
“No,” I said with a chuckle. “Still much too big.”
Mike shrugged. “That’s a shame. I would’ve liked to see it.”
He paused, deliberating over something. He eventually let out a sigh and flopped back down into a chair.
“I, uh, look, I--” he paused for a breath. “I know this is all, uh, less than ideal,” he stammered, glancing down at my leg. I bit my lip. “But, well, y’see, we want to help. So if you need anything, want anything… just, just tell one of us. We’ll be happy to getcha what you need.”
Before I could speak, he started again.
“A-and, well… I-I know it’s prob’ly pretty scary, f-for you, but, uh, we can bring ya anywhere too.”
There it was. I knew he was going to address that. And it wasn’t entirely crazy -- I certainly didn’t want to be stuck on this table forever. But the thought of trusting one of them with my life in their hands and having the others give me stares? I didn’t want to deal with that. Not right now.
“I bet you don’t wanna be sittin’ on this table forever,” Mike echoed my thoughts. I gave him a nod.
“It’s just…” I started, freezing up when I looked up at Mike. Eye contact was still a work in progress. “I dunno.”
“You can tell me, darlin’, it’s alright,” Mike said softly. “I’m not gonna get mad.”
I took a breath. “This is all pretty… new to me. A-as you can imagine. I’ve never… I--I don’t want to…” Inhale. Exhale. “I don’t want to be a bother. I’ve already caused too much trouble.”
“Aw, darlin’, you haven’t caused a lick of trouble,” Mike said.
“You understand that I can’t go back, right? I can’t go back on my own with a broken leg. I--I can’t climb, I can’t even walk. If--if I want to survive, at least— at least until my leg is better… I’m gonna need your help to do it. That’s an awful lot of attention you’ll need to dedicate to me. And I… I don’t want to ask that of you.”
“Oh, it’s not as big a deal as you think it’ll be,” Mike said, leaning down. “Sure, you’re pretty small, and we’ll have to be extra careful. But makin’ sure you have somethin’ to eat or drink or that ya have a place to sleep at night is no trouble at all.” He paused to rub the back of his neck, desperately trying to think of what to say next. “Are you… how are you feelin’? ‘Bout all this.”
I shrugged, allowing myself to laugh. I guess there was no way any of them would ever understand unless I explained it to them.
“I think… more than anything… I’m, uh, anxious,” I said, furiously twiddling my thumbs. “A-and scared. I-it’s hard not to look at everything and everyone towering above me and not get overwhelmed, you know?”
Mike nodded, suddenly acutely aware of how big he must seem to her. “I can leave ya alone, if you need time to… relax.” That was not the right word to use.
***change of perspective for no reason just go with it***
To his surprise, she vigorously shook her head. “No. Well. I dunno. I’m just… I-I’m already here. You already know about me.” In truth, she wanted to be left alone. All she wanted to do was crawl into her nook and never come back out. But knowing that she couldn’t go anywhere, the last thing she wanted was to be lounging around on the table, exposed and alone, without someone to accompany her and take some of the attention away. Mike was taking the lead on taking care of her and was the least invasive of the four, so this was the best she was going to get right now. “You… you’re not going to…” she stopped. Mike inched forward, eyes urging her to press on.
“Not goin’ to what?”
She sighed. “Not… do anything to me.” Her voice was so soft, Mike was surprised he could hear her.
“Do anything? Like what?”
She shook her head, lower lip quivering. “N-nothing. Forget I said anything.”
Mike’s eyes widened with sorrow, but he knew it wouldn’t be good to push her. He could piece together that the “anything” she was referring to wasn’t a good thing, anyway.
“You hungry?” Mike asked, desperate to change the subject. She slowly nodded, still looking away. Mike tried to ignore the fact that this whole thing stemmed from his inability to give her coffee and he had yet to come up with a solution. For the first time ever, he found himself wishing that Micky was awake early. He would know how to make something for her.
Mike stood up and looked into the ice box, his heart leaping when he saw actual food in there.
“Y’ever had eggs and bacon?”
She laughed. It was a genuine laugh, one of those laughs you give when you’re delightfully amused. Mike hadn’t even seen her smile, so hearing her laugh float up from the table surprised him. He found the corners of his lips turning up at the sound.
“It’s safe to assume I’ve never tried anything,” she called out, clearly trying to make sure Mike could hear her. Mike fished out the carton of eggs and half-eaten package of bacon from the back of the ice box, swiftly placing the ingredients on the counter. He reached for a pan and clicked the stove on.
“Think about it,” she forced herself to continue. She didn’t want Mike to be the only one talking. “How could I have possibly borrowed eggs and bacon while you weren’t looking?”
Mike bit his lip. He never really thought hard about the fact that she had basically been stealing things in secret for years. Anything she’s ever taken was done without their knowledge. He couldn’t even remember noticing things going missing until the recent bread incident.
“Fair point,” Mike said, cracking an egg over a now-heated pan.
“Plus, it’s hard to borrow a meal you only make twice a year.”
Mike turned around quickly, a comically amused look on his face. “Was that a joke?” he said with a teasing tone. She winced and sunk back into her towel a little bit, but recovered quickly when she realized Mike wasn’t being harsh.
She shrugged, trying to hide a smile. “It’s just the truth.”
Mike found himself trying to hide his own grin.
“Yer funny,” he said, letting the sizzle of the other side of the egg try to hide his comment. It was the second time calling her funny this morning. He called Micky funny maybe once a month.
She had heard his comment, of course, and definitely registered that it was a repeat compliment. She knew Mike was going to get all weird if she mentioned it, so she stayed quiet, marveling at his cooking. This wasn’t the first time she’s ever watched one of them perform a mundane daily task, but it was different than all the other times. She was present in this. Though the nagging thought in the back of her mind telling her to hide was still there, she knew it was just instinct. Mike was making this for her. She didn’t have to watch him cook and smell the food and wonder what it tastes like and wish she could find out for herself. She was going to find out. Despite the fear and uncomfortability she felt, she was willing to let her guard down for this one thing. This was a primal instinct letting itself through. She was going to enjoy this meal, and enjoy the company. Maybe it would help her feel more normal.
Once the egg was done frying, Mike plopped two strips of bacon in its place, transferring the egg to a small plate. The smell of eggs was good, yeah, but the smell of bacon was overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, it got Micky to get out of bed. He bounded down the stairs, excited that they had enough food for Mike to be cooking for everyone. He was so excited that he completely forgot about their little house guest.
“You’re making breakfast? Groovy!” Micky said, riding up right on Mike’s tail, making him jump.
“Don’t do that,” Mike muttered harshly, flipping the bacon over. “It ain’t for you.”
“What!” Micky cried. “You’re just making breakfast for yourself? C’mon, man, that’s--”
“Are you stupid?” Mike hissed, jerking his head toward the table. Micky looked back, down, then gasped. Yeah, I am stupid.
He chuckled nervously, locking gazes with her for just a bit too long. Her cheeks were bright red, and she looked nervous.
“S-sorry,” he said suddenly, breaking eye contact with her. “I’ll, uh.” He reached up to the cabinet and pulled out the almost-empty box of corn flakes. “I’ll just go back upstairs.”
Before Mike could protest, Micky was already halfway gone. The Texan sighed, peeling the bacon from the pan and placing it next to the eggs.
“Sorry about him,” Mike said, placing the plate in front of him as he took a seat. “That boy don’t know how to control himself.”
She shrugged, looking down to her cast. “He did a good job with this.”
Mike looked to her leg. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“It’s… it hurts. Kinda throbbing,” she said. “But I can feel it getting better.”
“Already?” Mike asked, almost absentmindedly, as he took his fork and began cutting off a little piece of egg.
She nodded. “Borrowers, we… we tend to heal faster than humans do.” Mike cringed again at the distinction. “I’ll probably be good to walk around again in like, two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Are ya sure? Have you ever broke your leg before?”
She laughed that amused laugh again, and Mike found himself getting embarrassed every time she did that. It was a laugh that said Oh boy, this idiot doesn’t get it.
“I’ve broken more bones than I can count.” She fiddled with her thumbs. “Elbow, legs. Both of ‘em. Arms, shoulders, fingers. I’ve rolled my ankle so many times I don’t know how it’s still attached to my body.” She stuck her good leg up and rolled her ankle around. “Yeah, it’s still there!”
“Jeez, that’s awful,” Mike said, suddenly losing all interest in the food. “How did you…” He didn’t know if asking this was a good idea, but he wanted to know everything about her that he could possibly find out. “How d’you, get all those… supplies you need, if you’re all banged up?”
She went quiet for a moment. “Wh-when I take food, I usually keep a weeks’ supply going. To prevent running out. Water is… more difficult. I’ll go a few days without drinking any.”
“That could kill you!”
She shrugged. “I’ve gone weeks without water before. It’s so hard to transport, I end up spilling half the stuff I take.”
Mike tried to picture carrying a bucket of water through an obstacle course with a broken leg. He couldn’t even fathom the possibility.
“It’s… amazing you even get any,” he said carefully, not wanting to sound patronizing.
“Yeah, you’re telling me,” she smirked, eyes cast downward. She wasn’t very hungry anymore.
“I…” Mike tried, but stopped himself. Everything he asked led to her being sad, and that was the last thing Mike wanted right now. “…why don’t ya try some of that food I made ya?” he tried. “It’s gonna go cold soon.”
That seemed to catch her attention rather quickly. She finally had a hot meal in front of her, and she was really about to squander it. She stared at the scraps in front of her, studying the textures of the egg. Luckily, the bacon smelled delicious, because the smell of the egg was not doing her appetite any favors. She began to wonder how disgusting this thing might taste.
“Everythin’ alright?” Mike asked with a mouthful of egg. He figured she would be all over this. She finally looked up at him, and his face was soft; sympathetic. He was simply waiting for her to try the food, eager for her reaction to his cooking. She gave a small nod before picking up the small piece of egg with her hands. It was still warm, though not fresh-out-of-the-pan hot. It was still warmer than anything she’s ever had before, and it felt wonderful in her hands. It wasn’t often that she experienced warmth; though, in California, she fared better than most. But the nights got cold and the heater was much too loud to sleep next to. Huddling up in her blankets and getting some hot water was the closest she ever got to the feeling of warmth. And when she was able to treat herself to hot water, the feeling of it traveling through her body and down to her stomach, ironically enough, always gave her chills. Maybe this egg could do the same.
With a renewed sense of energy, she bit into the egg and was instantly surprised—it was squishy. It almost sloshed around in her mouth, but it was fluffy at the same time. A little wet, too. There was some weird yellow liquid on it, which she could only assume was part of the egg. She chewed carefully, wanting to savor and remember the first egg she’d ever eaten. She couldn’t quite place the taste, but it was cooked enough that it was stained with the taste of old foods cooked in that same pan. It gave it an extra depth she didn’t realize food could have. It was unlike anything she had ever tasted and she loved it.
“This… this is incredible,” she said, looking at the egg like it was a newborn baby. Mike couldn’t help but smile at her infatuation.
“Aw, well. My cookin’ ain’t that good,” he joked. Inside, he was just happy she seemed to find pleasure in something.
Before she could even respond, she abandoned her notion of savoring the taste and scarfed down the rest of the egg. She ravenously turned to the bacon and ate it up before Mike could even blink.
“Jeez, you’re hungry, aren’t’cha?” he mumbled affectionately, not realizing he had slipped into pet-talk mode. She, however, did notice. She shot him a glare, which took Mike a few moments to understand.
“If you only ever ate stale crackers, you’d eat like this too,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Well, I’m actually a little surprised you aren’t eating like this is the first hot meal you’ve ever had!” She said cheekily with a nervous chuckle.
Mike smiled, once again amused at her joke, before realizing there was a layer to this.
“…is this your first hot meal? Ever?”
She shrugged, which Mike was beginning to realize was an ashamed “yes”.
“…It’s not even that hot,” she mumbled, only half-joking.
“Jeez, bud, I—I could have heated it back up for ya.” She didn’t respond. “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from. Do you want some more?” He gestured to his plate, which was still full of food, but she took intrigue with something he had just said.
“Plenty more?”
“Well, yeah. I-I’m not gonna let you starve,” he said, sniffing a laugh.
“You… you don’t need to do that,” she said, more ashamed than anything. No matter how wonderful real cooking was, she didn’t need to be treated like she was totally helpless.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Mike asked, genuinely surprised by her reaction. “Based off everythin’ you told me, well, you don’t need to hunt for scraps anymore. We can take care of stuff for ya—”
“—I don’t need to be taken care of,” she snapped, surprising herself. “I’ve been managing for 22 years,” she mumbled lowly. “I’ll be alright.”
Mike raised his eyebrows. He understood this kind of stubbornness because it was the same exact kind of pride he carried around himself. He didn’t expect her to be proud of the way she lived, but he understood the knee-jerk reaction. It was a lot easier to see how silly it was on the outside, though, and he suddenly started to wonder how many times his pride made him seem foolish instead of independent.
“I’m not sayin’ you can’t take care of yourself. Clearly, you’ve been going for this long. I don’t think you’re helpless. You seem to be anything but.” She meekly met Mike’s gaze, which was sincere yet firm. “But I get it, y’know? The stubbornness. Refusin’ help because you think acceptin’ it makes you weak.”
there is more but this is already way too long lmao
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
Giiiiirl, I am CRAVING some baking with Bucky. Like some good old recipe from his mom or sisters, eating half the batter, being all innocent and goofy. Maybe Reader introducing him to the world of cupcakes with a second batch of batter they make. Just a sweeeet baking day ❤️
I made myself happy sad with this one. XD
Might be a little more angsty than you were looking for, but all the sweet fluff is there as well!
Inspired by my own great great grandmother’s recipe.
Orange Rolls
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Words: 3k
Warnings: None, just the fluffiest fluff you can imagine; slight angst.
Author’s Note: I loved doing this, so please people. Send me more requests! ALSO this is an actual family recipe of mine. I recommend trying it!
I recommend listening to this song while reading this: https://open.spotify.com/track/7pR7yPgbYcipmTUHT5g68p?si=nQZeCOmoTcm43qOI1YRPNA
***
Step 1. Dissolve 2 yeast cakes in ¼ cup warm water.
The room was alight in the glow of soft warm sun. Nestled in your blankets, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned widely, stretching and turning to snuggle into the familiar warmth of Bucky. Firm muscle, soft skin, ticklish arm hair – all missing. Instead only cool sheets, drawn back on his side of the bed. You didn’t have to check the time to know it was early, but you rolled over to the bedside table to check your phone anyways. Five AM. Much too early to be up on a Sunday morning, even for your early bird of a super soldier. Rolling onto your back, you stayed quiet, attempting to hear any signs of life in the small apartment. Perhaps he’d only gotten up to use the bathroom. The sound of heavy items falling and a string of curses coming from the kitchen brushed away the thought. Jumping out of bed, you pulled one of Bucky’s large sweatshirts over your head and stepped into your slippers.
When you rounded the corner, the first thing you noticed was the expanse of your pantry laid out onto the floor. The second thing you noticed was Bucky, sat cross-legged in the middle of the array of flours, sugars, and spices, head in his hands. You knew this look. This crumpled, defeated look that so few had the privilege to witness. Everyone saw the stoic, cold Winter Soldier. So little saw Bucky Barnes, a kid from Brooklyn. Tiptoeing around the spilled bags of sugar, flour, and sprinkles, you stood beside him, leaning over and placing a gentle hand to his back, rubbing soft, slow circles.
“Nightmares?” you asked, moving your hand up to thread through his freshly cropped hair, scraping your fingernails against his scalp. Bucky tilted his head back, leaning into your touch like a cat leaving its scent. You could see the telltale signs; red rimmed eyes, pink tipped nose, raw bitten lips.
“No, no nightmares. I uh…I had a dream about my mom,” Bucky answered, the end of his sentence biting off in a short, harsh laugh. You held your breath. It flattered you that Bucky felt comfortable enough with you to share the gory, ugly details of his past – the things that kept him up at night. The things he thought you couldn’t love him for. But never had he talked about his family. The only memories of his past life you ever heard were the ones Steve brought up, the rowdy stories of two young men up to no good in 40’s Brooklyn. Yet on his own, Bucky remained silent about his life before the war. You never pushed him. It would be cruel of you to press a subject that was most likely too painful for him to think about. Now, the waver in his voice and the tears that welled in his eyes told you that that assumption had been correct.
“I was sittin’ in my old kitchen and uh—” he sniffed, taking a moment to clear his throat “—it was Easter. I know it was Easter ‘cause ma made orange rolls. She only ever made them on Easter. And it—it was the best damn orange roll I’ve ever had. I woke up and I remembered Steve brought over some boxes of my family’s old things, stuff Rebecca left behind I guess, and I found this.”
In his hand he held an aged recipe card, stained from years of use. The yellowed card stock was bent and torn, but the writing still held clear, thick and messy in some places as if it had been traced over multiple times. It was well used. Well loved. At the top, clearly labeled in large looped font, were the words ‘Orange Rolls’.
“I couldn’t get the taste out of my mouth. I figured I’d try to make them, but I wasn’t much for the kitchen back then, let alone now. And—and you don’t have any yeast cakes. I can’t make them without yeast cakes (Y/N). It’s the first ingredient and I can’t—” The words broke off, catching in the back of his throat. He wrapped his arms around your legs, clinging to them like a broken child. Rolling off of him in waves, the permeating sadness and longing washed over you, breaking your heart with each hit.
“I don’t think they make yeast cakes anymore Bucky—” you spoke slowly, choosing your words carefully. At the statement, you felt his arms tighten in a panic. You were quick to placate him “—but I have some dry active yeast that I think should work. Why don’t we clean this up and then see what we can do, yea?”
Step 2. Warm 1 cup milk, add ½ cup sugar, 3 Tbsp shortening, 2 tsp salt.
Turns out, a single yeast cake is equal to approximately 4 and ½ tsps of dry active yeast. After this joyous announcement and your internal praise to Google’s ever living library of knowledge, Bucky was up on his feet, standing in front of the stove over a saucepan of milk.
“How do you know when it’s warm?” he asked, looking curiously down at the pan of milk in front of him.
“Stick your finger in it, if it feels warm, then it’s probably warm,” you answered sarcastically, reaching into the depths of your pantry for the Crisco. A rarely used, but very important staple for any kitchen.
“What? I’m not sticking my finger in it,” said Bucky, watching with rapt horror as you walked up beside him and dipped the tip of your pointer finger into the warm, white liquid.
“I think it’s warm enough to put the sugar in. What?” you asked him when you saw the look of exasperation on your boyfriend’s face.
“You put your finger in the milk.”
“And? My hands are clean. You watched me wash them. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of catching cooties. Cause I hate to break it to you but, you probably already have them.” Lifting on your toes, you placed a sweet, soft kiss to his lips. Catching you around the waist before you could drop back down, Bucky kissed you back with slow purpose.
“Is that right?” he asked teasingly, breaking away from your lips ever so slightly.
“Afraid so,” you murmured against the soft, heat of his mouth.
Step 3. Beat in 3 eggs, 2 cups flour, and add dissolved yeast. Let rise for 1 hour.
The wet dough sat on the counter; a kitchen towel draped lightly over it. By this time, the sun had fully crested over the city skyline, pouring blinding light into the small space of your kitchen. The two of you sat at the kitchen island, sipping your coffee as you waited for the dough to rise. Your bare feet sat, propped in Bucky’s lap, the thumb of his metal hand absentmindedly rubbing the arch of your right foot as he spoke animatedly.
“You should have seen her. Becca was so mad; I thought her head was going to spin all the way around!” laughed Bucky, the creases at the corners of his eyes making a warm and welcome appearance as he regaled a story that you had never heard before.
“Well that’s what she got for touching your stuff,” you said, taking Bucky’s side in the long forgotten sibling argument.
“Thank you! See, you get it. I wish I could say the same for my parents. My pa gave me such a lickin’ and then ma sent me off to bed with no dinner. All for putting worms in her bed!”
“Did she get in trouble for letting your pet frog loose?” you asked, enraptured by the story.
“No! Do you know how hard it was to find a frog in Brooklyn?”
“Impossible. I don’t even know how you did it.”
“Well, really it was Steve that found him—”
“Him? Did he have a name?” you interrupted him with a cheeky smile.
Bucky scratched the back of his head, a light pinkness appearing on his cheeks, “He might of…”
“Aaaand?” you pressed, wanting to know the name even more at the prospect of it being embarrassing.
“I don’t know if I wanna’ tell you. I think you’re just gonna laugh.”
“I won’t! I promise!” you exclaimed, drawing an invisible cross over you heart.
Bucky looked at you skeptically, a raised eye trained on you before answering, “Fine. It was Mr. Ribbits.”
You tried your hardest, really you did. But a snort escaped your nose before you could stop it and then Bucky was playfully pushing your legs off of his lap and turning away from you, “See! I knew you’d laugh. You’re such a bad liar!”
“I’m sorry!” You reached for him, still attempting to stifle your giggles as you pulled at Bucky’s arm, turning him back towards you. “Really, I am. I think Mr. Ribbits is a respectable name.”
“Thank you. It is.” His tone was resolute, but it didn’t take a trained eye to spot the small smile working its way onto the corner of his lips. “But no, Becca didn’t get in trouble. In fact, my pa said I was too old to be picking up animals off the street anyways.”
“How old were you?”
“I think I was about ten.”
Step 4. Add 3 cups flour and beat in with spoon. Let raise 1 and ½ hours.
“We have to wait again?!”
“Yea, we have to let the dough rise, otherwise the rolls will be tough and there won’t be enough to roll out,” you explained, placing the towel over the bowl once again and reaching for your empty coffee cups.
“But I thought we just did that,” said Bucky in confusion. You tried not to smile at him, but the cute little scrunch of his eyebrows made you a weak and gooey fool.
“Baking is more of an art in patience than skill. Especially any kind of bread, babe. Don’t worry, once they’re done, they’ll be more than worth the wait,” you reassured him, patting his cheek gently.
“Well…can we make something else while we wait? What’s your favorite thing to bake?” Bucky asked, his innocent tone making him sound like a wide-eyed child.
You smiled, big and happy, and walked over to the recipe box that sat atop the fridge. Taking it down and setting in on the counter in front of you, you dug into the baking section and produced a handful of recipe cards.
“Take your pick soldier.”
Step 5. Roll out dough and spread on icing – 2 cups sugar, 1 orange: rind grated and juiced, 6 Tbsp melted butter. Roll, cut, and place in muffin tin. Cover and let raise 20 mins.
“Stop eating all the batter!” you scolded, whacking the back of Bucky’s hand with a spatula. The impact had no effect, the sneaking man having had the forethought to use his metal hand.
“If I wasn’t supposed to eat it this way, then why is it so delicious?” he argued, sneaking another finger into the chocolate concoction and bringing it to his mouth.
“Because it’s five pounds of sugar and fat,” you laughed, grabbing hold of his wrist and bringing the chocolate covered finger to your mouth instead. “Also – how is it gross for me to dip my finger into the milk but you can have these grubby little paws buried deep in my brownie batter?”
The question caught Bucky off guard. Raising his hand up, he wiggled the vibranium fingers in your face, “Metal arm – they’re, uh, sterile.”
You guffawed, absolutely tickled by the lame response, “Sterile. Okay. Well, preheat the oven Mr. Sterile.”
Using the spatula, you scraped the double chocolate chip brownie batter into the greased pan. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and a head came to rest on your shoulder, watching you scrape the sides of the bowl. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he placed a gentle kiss just below your ear.
“You know, you’re getting pretty mouthy these days. I have half a mind to take you over my knee,” Bucky growled playfully.
Before your brain could connect with what your body was doing, the spatula had already lifted away from the bowl and made contact with the side of his face. The wet splat of batter to skin sounded plainly through the kitchen. Releasing you from his hold, Bucky stepped back, his expression vacant and shell-shocked. Dropping the spatula back into the bowl, you covered your face with your hands as you tried not to lose it. He looked positively ridiculous. Chocolate covered the left side of his face, dripping down from his brow bone to his chin. You watched as he brought a hand up slowly, touching his face and bringing it back down to examine it. He stared at the chocolate proof on his fingertips for a few moments as you waited with horrific anticipation.
“Oh, that’s it, doll. You better run.”
The menacing words sent your heart rate soaring. A playful shriek escaped your lungs as you bolted from the kitchen, Bucky on your heel with a growl in the back of his throat.
Step 6. Place in the oven at 375 for 10-15 minutes. Makes around 3 dozen.
The brownies, already baked and cooling on the counter, were long forgotten as Bucky sat in front of the oven. Arms wrapped around his bent legs, he watched as the orange rolls slowly rose in their muffin tins.
“When are they gonna be done?” he asked you, staring into the depths of the oven like a fortune teller stares into their crystal ball. Like if he looked hard enough, he’d find all the answers to the universe.
“About five more minutes.” You sat down beside him, leaning into his side as the two of you watched his long-forgotten memories rise. You were excited to try the rolls. It was a recipe you had never heard of, which was a rare thing. But most importantly you were excited to try a little piece of Bucky’s life. A piece of the man, the boy, that he used to be before life happened. It felt special and intimate.
“What if they’re not as good as I remember?” The words were soft and honest. You could feel the same sadness and apprehension as earlier that morning drift from him to you. Leaning against him firmer, you took his hand into yours. Threading the warm flesh into your own, you continued to stare into the heat of the oven.
“They will be.”
Step 7. Enjoy.
The rolls were a beautiful sight. Small, golden brown swirls in a neat, compact shape. The sugar filling had melted down into the bottom of the pan, creating and thick and chewy caramel layer at the bottom of each one. A delicious detail that Bucky said was supposed to happen, but also made it incredibly difficult to pry them from their tins. Still, with the help of a butter knife and a lot of patience, the two of you were able to get most of them out unscathed. A buttery orange scent swirled through the air, causing your mouth to salivate as they sat atop of the wire cooling rack. The two of you sat at the kitchen island, staring at the rolls in silence – you with a look of anticipation, Bucky with a look of confusion.
“What is it?” you asked, wondering if he still doubted that they would hold up to his dream.
“I’m pretty sure they had frosting.”
While the recipe didn’t call for it, Bucky insisted that they always had a frosting on them. After a few minutes of questioning about what kind of frosting it was, or at least what it looked and tasted like, you came to the conclusion that it was most likely a simple glaze. A few minutes later, you each had a plate in front of you with a single, gooey, glistening orange roll sat pristinely on it.
You were starving. You’d been up for nearly five hours and you hadn’t eaten anything yet. But you didn’t dare dig in until Bucky had his first bite. Reaching out tentatively, he picked up the roll, twisting and turning it, inspecting it with a warry expression. Holding your breath, you watched as he brought the baked good to his lips and took a generous bite. He chewed, and chewed, and chewed – each second leaving you with more consternation than the last. When he finally swallowed, he set the rest of the roll down onto his plate and heaved a heavy sigh. Your heart dropped.
“No good?” you asked, fearing you already knew the answer from the way his shoulders bunched over the counter.
Looking to you, tears once again welling in his eyes, Bucky did something unexpected. He kissed you. A firm, chaste kiss that lasted only a moment but formed butterflies in your stomach before he pulled back.
“They’re even better than I remember.”
The proclamation sent your heart soaring. You let out the breath you’d been holding, feeling your own tears of relief and joy begin to well. Blinking them back, you smiled at him, blinded by the dazzling smile you received in turn.
“Well then, let’s eat them all because I am famished,” you replied, picking up your own orange roll and taking a giant bite. The mix of soft, warm bread, zesty orange, chewy caramel, and sweet frosting set your taste buds alight. As you chewed, you envisioned a ten year old Bucky sitting in his mother’s kitchen on Easter morning. Curly brown hair, all teeth and dimples in his Sunday best and as happy as a kid could be. Why?
Because this was the best damn orange roll you’d ever had.
Marvel Taglist:
@caffiend-queen
@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall
#requests#fan fiction#fanfic#fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#memories#baking#angst
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wedding Colors (Part 3)
(Hayffie ❤️🧡💛💚💙💖. An exploration of Effie’s evolving character as she faces past and present personal intensities while making preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding.)
13:00—lunch. For the first time since the ominous day in July that she’d descended into the gloom of 13, Effie’s belly was full. As weeks had turned into months, she hadn’t felt hunger. She’d picked at meals and pushed unpalatable food around her tray. But now something was different. Flint scraped over steel inside her like the wind across her cheeks that morning. Her spoon repeatedly clinked the bottom of the bowl of squash soup. It took every ounce of restraint to not bring the whole bowl to her mouth and tilt it upward to collect the last drops.
Keenly observant, Cressida noted, “That’s new.”
“What?”
“You finishing a meal here.” She dropped her voice. “Are you pregnant, Trinket?”
Effie’s face flushed scarlet, blushing through burnt cheeks. “Bite your tongue!” she snapped.
Cressida glanced at Pollux, and Effie recognized her own faux pas. “Please excuse me. I wasn’t thinking about...”
Interacting with an Avox who was a regular citizen rather than a servant of the Capitol was still a new experience for her.
Pollux signed, “No problem,” and his brother offered the translation.
Effie returned her attention to the inquisitive filmmaker. “I’m JUST hungry. Must a woman be pregnant in order to finish a bowl of soup?” She whispered “pregnant” as if saying it too loudly might invite the situation. Or just as worrisome, Haymitch could walk in at that moment, hear the word, flip out, and not touch her again. Now that she’d opened the Pandora’s box of sex with him, she didn’t want to put a lid back on it.
“Okay. I get it.” Cressida was intrigued by Effie’s blush, but otherwise mollified. “You like the soup. End of story.”
It was golden orange in color and lightly flavored with spices that tasted like autumn. Ginger was recognizable, but the others were a mystery to Effie. Her experience with cooking was mostly limited to a course she’d taken a decade and a half prior at Charis School of Grace, Beauty, and Charm.
Her mother had insisted on “Finishing School” for Effie after she graduated from the Academy. The summer classes had been a compromise, since her father was resolute in his intention to send her to University. He’d even dipped into his personal inheritance to pay extra tuition when her test scores didn’t qualify her outright for admission.
“Charis will focus Euphemia on the most sophisticated etiquette and deportment, preparing her for marriage into greater wealth,” her mother argued.
“University will prepare Effie for a practical career suited to her strongest skills,” her father contended.
“Grace, beauty, and charm ARE her strongest skills. Face it, dear. Like you, our daughter lacks the talent to be a Gamemaker.”
“She has the talent to be more than a rich man’s wife.”
“If I were the wife of a RICH man, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”
Their barbs stung each other. After years of practice, the Trinkets knew just where to aim them. They agreed that Effie needed a path which would secure an optimal future for the family. Neither of them asked her what she wanted.
If they’d asked back then, she would have had one specific answer. And if she was honest with herself now, her deepest desire was exactly the same. If she’d voiced it then, her parents would have sent her to the Asylum first before anything else. So she said nothing about it.
By 18, she’d become a master at the art of knowing when to hold her tongue. She’d internalized the pressure to please her parents and reflect positively on her family’s name and station in society. The burden of doing so was a heavy weight on her shoulders.
Effie’s shoulders ached too from the physical work of gathering and carrying around large sacks of perfect leaves. She daydreamed about a bath full of bubbles followed by a nap on a real bed. Allowing the fantasy was a mistake because then her body screamed for it.
She wondered if even babies were allowed to nap here, or did they get merely a half hour of “reflection” before dinner like everyone else? Did they have daily schedules imprinted on their chubby little arms? Eat. Poop. Sleep. What else did the tiny things do? She’d never paid much attention to them in the Capitol. Had she ever seen a baby in 13? She couldn’t recall.
***
14:00—volunteering. The children would be out of school soon. Plutarch told her to expect them along with anyone who was between work shifts. Coin was allowing more flexibility than usual in order to encourage volunteerism. Effie considered the irony in the word spelled out on her arm in purple ink. Following schedules was mandatory. Once “volunteering” is tattooed on your body, doesn’t it cease to be voluntary?
That place made her head hurt if she thought about it too much. She pulled her rose-tinted sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on, hoping the change in light would temper some of the ache, and help her feel less vulnerable.
“Ready or not, here I go,” she said out loud.
She approached the kitchen staff for permission to use large plastic serving bowls to hold the leaves at the tables. The kitchen manager, a middle aged woman named Cuire, put up resistance, muttering something about needing authorization from the president.
Greasy Sae showed no qualms about interjecting. “Now, those leaves ain’t all that different from a salad. We’ll have the bowls washed again long before dinner service.”
The older woman, with her hair up in a kerchief more plain than Effie’s, carried a stack of serving bowls through the doorway without waiting for the manager’s consent. She returned to the kitchen for more until every serving bowl in 13 was in the dining hall. Cuire pursed her lips but said nothing.
Sae pulled a handful of leaves out of one of the canvas bags and dropped them into a bowl. “The list of procedures here’s a mile long. Sometimes the only way to keep these folks from sayin’ ‘no’ is to just not ask ‘em. And then work fast.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Effie joined her efforts to quickly transfer the leaves to the bowls. “Thank you, Sae.”
“Thank YOU, girl. Gatherin’ up all these to make pretty things for the weddin’, you must be exhausted.”
“I had help. From Haymitch.”
“Did you?”
“I had to ambush him.”
“Nah. As often as that boy looks at you, I’d guess he went willingly.”
Ambushed and willing. Yes, he was.
Beetee wheeled up to her with several spools of wire, wire cutters, rolls of electrical tape, and several pairs of scissors.
“The copper color is PERFECT!” Effie gushed.
“This wire is at least a hundred years old,” he replied with little emotion, “The only reason it shows no corrosion is because 13 is fastidious about its storage conditions, including adequate air circulation. The gauge is small. The electrical current from present technologies, would overload and overheat it. The wire is rather useless actually.”
“Well, we’ve found a use for it!”
“In the absence of copper tape, this seems the best match, which is ironic since brown is typically used for high voltages. And high voltages would burn right through this particular wire.”
“We’re just making garlands today, not blowing out an arena!”
“You’re speaking non-metaphorically, of course. We might hope the propo will play a role in shattering the Capitol’s grip on the restless minds of its citizens... That said, it isn’t my intention to imply that YOUR mind is gripped and restless.”
A gripped and restless mind sounded fairly accurate to Effie. “I doubt the Capitol views me as its citizen at this point.” I guess that makes me homeless, even though my family home, my apartment, my belongings, my entire history are all there.
Beetee noticed her smile fade. “You might be right about that. ...I’m sorry.”
After seeing what her victors had been through and what they were still going through, she felt uncomfortable being apologized to by a victor who she held in high regard. I don’t deserve an apology, though manners dictated the proper response to an apology was a gracious, “Thank you.”
“Will you be staying to help?” she added.
“I’m needed in Special Defense. Bring the leftover supplies when you come down later.”
“Beetee, thank you for this.”
The clock was ticking. Effie went to work immediately, arranging leaves in alternating colors and shapes and adhering the stems to a long length of wire.
“What a beautiful pattern!” A friendly voice spoke over Effie’s shoulder. She turned to see Delly Cartwright whose blonde hair fell free of its usual braid.
“An artisan! Delly, I’m grateful you’re here to help with production and quality control.”
From their occasional chats at mealtimes, Effie had learned that Delly’s parents had been shoemakers, and 13 put her to work in textile production as soon as she’d turned 18.
“Me? An artisan?”
“You WILL be, dear. I’ve seen your stitching. I’ve also observed your congenial way with people.” Effie cut a long length of wire for Delly and set her up with supplies to work at another table. “Let’s spread around the talent.”
When school let out, Delly’s younger brother was the first to arrive, not wanting to go “home” to empty quarters. Posy Hawthorne followed close at his heels, skipping to keep up with his much longer legs.
“Stop followin’ me!” he told her.
“I’m not followin’ you. We’re just goin’ the same place, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re a baby, and I don’t want you sittin’ at MY table.”
“Cordwain!” Delly interjected, “That’s not polite!”
“I’m FIVE years old, and I’ll sit wherever I please, CordWAIN.” With three older brothers, Posy could hold her own in disagreements with just about anyone, especially boys. Effie admired that along with her manners.
“Aw, Dellyyyy,” her brother whined, “You’re supposed to call me Cord!”
“You apologize to Posy, and I won’t have to be so stern.”
“Do I HAVE to?! She’s just Vick’s little sister.”
“And you’re MY little brother, so, yes, you do. You know Ma and Pa would say so if—“
“Ma and Pa are dead!” Cord sat at the table with Delly and folded his arms across his chest.
Delly sighed, and her tone softened, “Cordy, honey, that’s all the more reason to apologize.”
His lip quivered, and he muttered in a hoarse voice. “Sorry.”
“I’m sorry they died,” Posy empathized, “My daddy died b’fore I was born.”
She sat across from Effie and looked at her for a long fifteen seconds. Effie wasn’t used to children being so young. The girl’s dark hair fell long past her shoulders in two braids. Her gray eyes were deeply set. She had the look of a person who’d seen the shadow of death and kept going.
“I like your pink glasses.” Posy twirled one of her braids around her finger. “I used to have pink ribbons. Two of ‘em.”
“When I was your age, I wore pink ribbons in my hair. Pink was my favorite color.”
“Mine too! Gale says we can’t go back fer the ribbons. He says they’re gone. Do you think they’re gone?”
“Well... I...” For goodness sake. What does one say to a child whose district was fire bombed to rubble?
Cord muttered some more, “Of course they’re gone!”
Posy ignored him, waiting for Effie’s response.
“Your brother, Gale, is wise, dear.” Effie saw her expectant little face fall. “I am going to your district tomorrow. With Katniss. Would you like for me to look for the ribbons so you know for certain?”
Posy nodded.
“Then I’ll be sure to do that. In the meantime would you like to help make a garland? There aren’t any pink leaves, but there are other pretty colors.”
Posy reached into the bowl and pulled out a red one. “Can I do this one?”
“Of course. Let me show you.”
Effie demonstrated with a different leaf then watched Posy’s small fingers peel and cut the tape and use it to add her chosen leaf to the copper wire.
“How’s that?” the girl asked.
The tape was crooked. The leaf was crooked, and it didn’t fall in line with the pattern. Effie considered telling her so. Aemilia Trinket certainly would have. And for that reason if no other, Effie said to the five-year/old, “That’s wonderful, dear.”
Posy beamed. “You’re nice. You’re not scary at all! I’m gonna go tell Rory that he’s wrong.” She hopped out of the chair and skipped away, turning around long enough to say, “I’ll be back!”
Effie watched her go, not knowing quite what to think. Rory?... She couldn’t remember who that was. One of the Hawthorne boys?
“This year would have been Rory’s first reaping,” Delly explained.
Effie didn’t need to hear anything more in order to understand. The truth split her heart. Half of it dropped like lead into her stomach. The other half rose up into her throat, threatening to choke her.
The children are afraid of me.
Even without a reaping ball in front of me, they are still afraid.
In that moment, she didn’t have time or space to process the realization. She just sat there, forcing a smile, trying to keep the vacant feeling in her chest from showing on her face. As volunteers streamed into the dining hall, she swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed her palm to her stomach, and directed the project as planned.
More children arrived giggling and singing, 🎶”Come live with me and be my love...”🎶 It was the beginning of District 4’s wedding song, which they’d started learning in school. 🎶”...I'll take you out upon the sea...”🎶 drew them into conversation about how the ocean might look, feel, sound, smell, and taste. None of them had ever been to the seashore. They’d only seen it in books.
🎶”...To share the starry night with you...” 🎶 intrigued them too. Some of the children from 12 tried to describe the stars to the kids from 13 who had never been above ground at night. “A star is like the tip of the flame of a candle that never flickers.”... “They just pop out in the sky as it’s changing from blue to black.”... “My grandma says stars are ghosts that come to visit us at night. Good ghosts, not scary ones.”... “Ghosts ain’t real.”... “Are so!”... “Are not!”
Dozens of adults were there to cut wire and strips of tape for the younger children and to ensure the garlands turned out beautifully.
With so many helping hands, Effie had to let go of her precise plans. The work of other artisans became apparent as some patterns emerged which were even more pleasing than what Plutarch and Effie envisioned.
Boggs showed up, carrying his son on his hip. The boy seemed younger than Posy, though Effie was far from an expert about children under 12. Boggs sat at a table with the boy in his lap. The little one reached for the leaves just as Boggs’ communicuff started flashing wildly. “Damon, buddy, President Coin is calling. I’ve just lost my break time. I’m going to need to take you back to daycare, but maybe Miss Trinket will let you take one of the leaves with you?” Boggs gave Effie a pleading look. The last thing he needed just then was an upset kid.
Damon’s big brown eyes welled up with tears. He wiped them away with the backs of his hands which were filled with leaves that he didn’t want to let go. Since the epidemic, Boggs and his son had been on their own. Looking into those teary eyes, Effie couldn’t help but feel for them. The feeling seeped into that empty space in her chest, and eased a bit of the void.
“Your son can stay awhile, if you’d like. Then I can take him back to daycare.”
“Are you sure? He’s a handful, and you have a lot going on here.”
Seeing herself in the moment as “scary ghost” rather than a star, Effie definitely was NOT sure that she was the right person to be looking after a young child. “Of course, I’m sure,” she spoke through her smiling mask.
“What do you say, buddy? Do you want to stay with Miss Trinket and make a garland, or do you want me to take you back to daycare now?”
“It’s Effie. The only one who calls me Miss Trinket around here is Mr. Heavensbee.” She laughed.
Damon climbed down from Boggs’ lap and up into Effie’s. “Oh! Well, hello,” she said, pushing her chair back far enough to make room for him. He was heavier than he’d looked in the strong arms of his father. He squirmed around reaching for everything at once: more leaves of every shape and color, scissors...
Boggs’ eyes widened.
Effie handed Damon a roll of tape in trade for the scissors. “You can hold the tape, and I’LL do the cutting.”
‘Thank you,’ Boggs mouthed the words then told his son, “This is an important job, soldier. Effie is your commanding officer. Are you going to take this work seriously and mind what she tells you to do?”
“Yeth, thir, Daddy, thir!” His lisp melted Effie’s heart.
“At ease, little man. I’ll pick you up from daycare at 18:00.” Boggs kissed his son’s forehead, and Damon was already hard at work attempting to peel tape off the roll.
As Effie helped the boy put leaves on the wire, Posy returned, accompanied by one of her brothers who hurried to claim an open seat next to Cord. Posy skipped up to Effie and patted her head. “I got Vick to come, but Rory’s stubborn. YOU know how boys can be.”
Effie looked up from the table to see Haymitch leaning against a pillar near the edge of the dining hall. He was watching her closely. The expression on his face was a loaded mix of curiosity and seriousness.
“Yes, I do know how boys can be,” Effie agreed, “Especially when they are afraid.”
Haymitch had never seen Effie around little kids, and he was fascinated. The Hawthorne girl chattered on and on, tucking leaf stems into the top knot of Effie’s kerchief. Boggs’ kid was in Effie’s lap, crushing leaves with his hands and unwrapping tape for her to cut with scissors. A girl Haymitch didn’t recognize sat to the side, touching Effie’s bracelet. “Is this silver and gold?” the kid asked.
“This s costume jewelry,” Effie answered.
“What’s ‘costume’?” the girl wanted to know.
“A costume is... something you might wear when you are... pretending.”
The Hawthorne girl said to the other one, “You can wear one of my pink ribbons sometime, and we can pretend to be twins... if Effie finds my ribbons in 12 tomorrow.”
Effie locked eyes with Haymitch. “I promised I’d look, Posy, but please don’t get your hopes up, dear.”
He was trying to make sense of the situation. Effie’s going to 12 tomorrow? Why? And why is nobody telling me anything! Pissed off, he started to walk away.
“Excuse me, girls. Damon, let’s go talk to Haymitch for a few minutes.” Effie stood up, holding the boy on her hip as Boggs had done. “Haymitch! Wait...” She caught up to him before the staircase. If he’d really wanted to avoid her, he would have already been long gone.
“What are you thinking!?” he asked, unsure of what he was wondering about most... Why was Effie going to 12 where the burned corpses of his people were still rotting? Why didn’t she tell him about her plans? And what the hell was his heart doing as he watched her with those little kids?
“Annie needs help selecting one of Cinna’s dresses for the wedding, and Katniss asked if I could go with them for support. So, of course, I said yes. ...Not that I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me nothing, sweetheart. But it’s bad there. You’re going to see things that’ll change you.”
“I’m already changing.” She boosted the kid up on her hip. “There’s nothing I can do to stop that. ...And I don’t think I want to stop it.”
Damon dropped the leaves and rubbed his eyes. “Are you tired... buddy?” Effie hesitantly used one of Boggs’ nicknames for the boy. He shook his head ‘no’, but rubbed his eyes again. “How about we take these leaves to daycare so you can show your daddy?”
Damon nodded and opened his hands to the floor where the leaves had fallen. Haymitch bent to pick them up and handed them back to the kid. He stood close to them. Effie smelled like the woods, faintly like ginger, and mostly like her. The fragrances helped him feel less agitated. They were familiar, as if less was changing all at once.
“Thank you,” she said about the leaves, “Will you please tell Delly where I’m going and ask her to stay until I return?”
“Sure”
She rested her palm on Haymitch’s shirt where his sweater gaped open. She brushed her fingertips along the buttons. “Will YOU stay until I return? I could really use your help hanging these garlands in Special Defense.”
Her touch felt too good for him to say no.
The peace in his expression was answer enough for her.
As he watched her walk away, a smile crept over his face. He was far too amused to remind Effie that the Hawthorne girl had embellished her head wrap with at least a dozen leaves. In all the years, it was the best *wig* he’d seen her wear. If she was going to roam around 13 looking like a tree, then who was he to stop her?
#HayffieFics#hayffie#hayffie fanfiction#effie x haymitch#haymitch x effie#haymitch abernathy#effie trinket#thg#thg fanfiction#district 13#wedding colors#greasy sae#delly cartwright#cressida#castor and pollux#boggs#posy Hawthorne#Aemilia trinket#cordwain Cartwright#damon#dreamcatcher voyage#beetee
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Skyrim/Witcher Crossover - Cicero Fuckeries
alright so i’m gonna make this its own post since I have a lot in mind for this specific lil scenario, and i don’t want to make a too big a text wall ajs;dlfkjasldk
just hear me out on this one, this would be a lot more entertaining than you might think
Cicero, Geralt and Jaskier first meet out on the road, out in front of the Loreius farm
Geralt was fully intent on ignoring Cicero’s call for help, but Jaskier is the one to be like “hey, why don’t we give this guy a hand?”
honestly the two prolly bicker a bit on what they should do but then Jaskier hits him with That Look and Geralt finally relents
Geralt helps up to the farm while Jaskier sticks around with Cicero, making small talk
aint long for Geralt to come back down the hill with Loreius in tow - really not hard for him to change Loreius’s mind on the whole ordeal
Jaskier finds the little man very odd, but still fun to talk to
Cicero also thinks he’s fun, but at the same time, i would not be surprised in the slightest if he’s lowkey plotting a murder - getting mother home stays his blade, of course, but if he has the free time? hmm... tempting, tempting indeed...
Once Loreius is down there helping Cicero, Geralt starts to leave, but Cicero calls out to him, asks him to wait, before tossing a coin purse his way as a thank you
he accepts it without a word, and off Geralt and Jaskier go
Jaskier has no idea what’s up with Cicero, but Geralt knows there’s something definitely not right
he wasn’t lying about his mother being in that box, as far as he could tell - his sharp sense of smell confirmed it - but there was just something... wrong. something dark. something evil
they don’t see each other again for a while, not until the Cure for Madness happens and Cicero is all alone in Dawnstar (assuming he’s been spared)
Geralt and Jaskier happen to be there, too, looking for work
they’re in the tavern, with Jaskier playing tunes for coin and Geralt sitting alone at a table, watching him and takin swigs of his ale, and Cicero sees em and he’s just like !!!!!!
just scampers his tiny ass over to Geralt and plops down next to him with a big smile on his face
“Well, well, well! Long time, no see, dearest Witcher! I was wondering if we’d ever cross paths again.”
“Cicero.”
they chat up a storm - or more Cicero’s talking to him while Geralt listens and prolly says like... five words in one sentence at most
definitely asks about his mother, who Cicero simply says is enjoying her new home
which confirms something on Geralt’s mind, but he keeps it to himself
Jaskier had seen the jester walk over to Geralt while he was performing, and once he’s done he goes over to say hello
ain’t long before it’s the three of them sittin there, chattin it up. Err, well, Cicero and Jaskier chatting it up while Geralt offers his most enlightening hmm’s
something something Cicero ends up more or less inviting himself along on the adventure since he, at that time between the Cure for Madness and the end of the DB questline, has nowhere else to be
something something also tagging along so he can go through with his little Jaskier murder plot
something something he does attempt to kill him a couple times but some thing or another foils it without him actually getting caught by the bard in question, or more importantly, Geralt
mind you, Jaskier actually likes Cicero - as eccentric as the man is, he relates
but then he hits him with the bard joke
and poor Jaskier
a lad is CONCERNED
HE’S TALKIN ABOUT SMASHIN LUTES AND BURNIN BARDS
starts sticking around Geralt a bit closer than usual
Cicero learns very, very quickly that you do not make murder jokes around Geralt
he does not appreciate them
he especially does not appreciate murder jokes about Jaskier
Regardless of this, Cicero tries very hard to get Geralt to laugh when the three of them are out on the road
he’s never seen him do anything more than smirk and “hmmph” in a way that he’s pretty sure was a laugh but isn’t positive on
he’s done countless jokes, no matter how well structured or not, desperate to get a chuckle, a smile, anything
Usually doesn’t work, but Jaskier gets a kick out of most of em
there’s some point in time where Cicero gives up on trying to kill Jaskier, for a couple of different reasons.
One, Geralt Will Find Him. Cicero may have outrun Arnbjorn but he will not stand a chance against a Witcher. He knows this.
Two, he’s found enough bloodshed travelling with these two to keep him contented
Three - honestly? Jaskier is friend-shaped. He can never know about who or what Cicero actually is since saying anything about him would technically break one of the Tenets, but he’s helped Cicero out in ways he may never know
at some point, the trio are at a jarl’s palace, attending some celebration (prolly the “slaying” or Alduin or something to do with the Civil War, regardless if we’re taking Dragonborn!Geralt into account)
Jaskier gets harassed by someone, who claims he slept with their spouse the last time they were there
Geralt steps in, tells em to fuck off, right
But Cicero’s watching from afar as the person leaves, and he walks over after they go with a grin on his face
“Tsk tsk tsk tsk! Naughty, naughty, Jaskier! You ought to know better than to sleep with a noble’s lover! You’ve gotten yourself in a situation now, haven’t you?”
Jaskier apologizes (kinda sarcastically, kinda awkwardly, not really sure where Cicero’s going with this)
and then the little fucker just hits him with
“Well... Geralt may scare them off for now, but... oh, what are you going to do if you’re alone, hmm?”
his grin widens and he leans closer
“Cicero could make sure they don’t come back. If you would like.”
and Jaskier is just like “wat” for a solid couple of seconds before he realizes he’s talking MURDER
Jaskier appreciates and utilizes Cicero’s murderiness and you caN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE
HE IS A FERAL FUCKING BABY NOT AFRAID TO SEND THE LITTLE GREMLIN JESTER MAN OUT TO STAB A BITCH FOR HIM
AND CICERO THRIVES OFF JASKIER’S FERAL BABINESS BECAUSE IT’S A SIDE OF HIM HE NEVER SAW UNTIL NOW
and poor Geralt
Geralt is very tired
not only does he have to make sure Jaskier doesn’t get killed, he has to make sure Cicero doesn’t go out killing people himself
the trio is often mockingly called the travelling circus by those living in the towns and cities they pass through
Geralt knows Cicero’s Dark Brotherhood and caught on pretty early, but he actually doesn’t do anything, per se
he keeps him in line as best he can when they’re travelling together - more or less makes sure he’s not killing people he shouldn’t be
but he knows Cicero’s off to his own devices when he leaves to go do whatever it is he does before travelling again
And, while he would NEVER openly admit it, he is aware the Dark Brotherhood is something of a necessary evil in Tamriel. From what he understands, they kill people, yes, but the ones they’re called upon to kill aren’t innocent people by any sense of the word. They’re slavers, they’re abusers, they’re corrupt politicians - the scum of the earth. Geralt (likely with a little bit of convincing from Jaskier if/when he finds out about Cicero’s true identity), tries his best to keep Cicero in line outside of the contracts he was once called upon to fulfill
I’m gonna leave it here for now and do separate interaction headcanon posts between Cicero and Geralt and Jaskier individually because this is a fucking huge text block but really tho
i just fucking love the idea of the gremlin jester travelling with the gremlin bard and gremlin monster hunter. there is a chaos there that i’m thriving on
#cicero#jaskier#geralt#jaskier the bard#geralt of rivia#skyrim#witcher#the witcher#netflix the witcher#the witcher netflix#cicero skyrim#skyrim cicero#skyrim/witcher#witcher/skyrim#cicero headcanon time#AU cicero headcanon time#the elder scrolls#tes
147 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
