#moby dick reading circle
Text
I am having a rough patch so I’m making myself tell you about some okay stuff. My bandaging is so minimal today that I get to wear a regular sock. And when I ordered some supplies from [DICK] Blick I threw yet another kind of pencil grip into the order and I think I finally found the right something to help me hold pens and brushes.
#old nasty boot goofin#heartbreak and cancer and no fafner and no home#also i am real low down lonesome#jennhoney personal log#but now there is fafner!#flowers on my dick and bees all around#moby dick reading circle#these are my dick tags#Blick will always be DICK BLICK in my heart#how longs the rough patch been?#just 46 years or so
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).
summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer
warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl
a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.
“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.
“uh, yeah actually.”
“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”
“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.
“you’re no fun man.”
the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.
three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,
“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,
“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”
spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.
“rubatosis.”
“bless you?”
“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,
“the love of used bookstores?”
“i saw old books in your car.”
“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.
“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,
“you didn’t even look at the register.”
“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.
there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.
“bye.”
the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.
you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.
you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.
“i’m not going to ask.”
“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.
you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”
he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”
you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”
he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”
you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”
“bye, spencer.”
you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?
you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.
you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.
“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”
you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”
he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.
he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.
“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“
“how did you get that perfectly-“
“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”
you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.
“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.
“i can’t tell you.”
you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”
he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”
you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”
he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”
you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”
“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.
“yeah, no i don’t. why?”
spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”
you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.
pt. 3
taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff
938 notes
·
View notes
Text
We're a Family
Summary: You and Natasha are taking your first vacation since the birth of your 5-year-old daughter. While you and Natasha are off on a romantic getaway to Paris for your anniversary, how will your Avengers family handle watching your daughter for the weekend?
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Romance
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: Some mentions of grief.
A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on Come Home to Me! I hope to keep writing as I feel inspired and have time. This story takes place after the events of Endgame. Tony survived defeating Thanos with the Snap, and Steve brought Natasha back after returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natasha questioned for the third time that Friday morning, as you gather the last of the essentials together for your 5-year-old daughter to take to the Avengers Compound. You and Nat were taking your first vacation together since the birth of your child in celebration of your wedding anniversary. Understandably, your wife was struggling with the idea of leaving your daughter. It was all you could do to convince Natasha to drop her off at preschool, let alone leave her overnight.
“Love, we’ve talked about this. It’s only for the weekend, Mila is going to have a great time. Besides, there is nowhere safer for her to be than surrounded by Avengers. You trust them with your life”, you remind her reassuringly as you rub gentle circles on her back.
“Exactly. My life, not my child,” Nat muttered.
It had been five years since you gave birth to your and Natasha’s daughter. From the moment you both laid eyes on her your whole world changed. Soon after, Nat transitioned into semi-retirement with guidance from Clint. She was still available for daily mission consultation or if the situation was dire, but you and Mila are her number one priority now.
You heard little feet padding down the hall, as your daughter runs into your bedroom. Her red curls bounced up on down on her head “I'm ready Mommy and Mama!” Mila squealed.
“Oh, Moya Lyubov, you look so pretty! Did you dress yourself this morning?” Natasha asked, getting down to her level.
“Yes! I wanted to match Auntie Yelena!” as she showed off her mini black vest that Yelena made her for her last birthday, worn expertly over her pink tutu.
“Auntie Yelena is going to love it, sweetheart. You’re going to have so much fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” hugging her tight.
After packing your luggage in the car, you make the short drive to the compound. FRIDAY greets you as you exit the main elevator. “Good morning Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Y/L/N.” The team is awaiting your arrival in the common room.”
“Thank you, FRIDAY,” you replied, as Mila lets go of Natasha’s hand and runs ahead of both of you, having been here several times already in her young life.
As you enter the room, you see Wanda and Vision in the kitchen as the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air. Peter and Kate are playing video games, Bucky and Sam are playing cards with Clint, and Steve is quietly reading Moby Dick.
“Little spider!” Yelena called out as she entered the room and Mila runs into her arms.
“Auntie Yelena! Do you like my outfit? I got dressed all by myself!”
“I love it malyshka, so much cooler than Mama’s outfit,” Yelena says, as she side-eyes her older sister with a smile. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend.”
“Yeah, about that”, Natasha interrupted. “Mission briefing in five.”
“Mission briefing? Love, we're going on vacation, not a stakeout.”
“Yes, but they have the most important mission of all, watching our daughter.” motioning to the group in front of you.
Your heart warms at how protective your wife is being. This is the Black Widow. A woman who would run into a collapsing building or intercept an alien invasion without batting an eye, but the moment she became a mother, everything changed. She vowed to give Mila everything she never had as a child. To break the cycle of uncertainty and pain that the Red Room forced upon her. Truthfully, you were so proud of how far Natasha had come. From growing up believing love was for children, to giving nothing but love to the both of you.
Just then Tony and Bruce entered the living room arguing over their latest nanotech calculations, with Pepper following closely behind.
“Hey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, park it,” Natasha said.
“Ah, Rushman, wonderful to see you as always,” Tony says, winking at Nat. She rolls her eyes in response, as Tony and Bruce give you a hug before sitting down and Pepper picks up your daughter.
“Come on sweetie, do you want to go play with Morgan?” Pepper asked.
“Yay!” Mila cheered as they walk down the hall to Morgan’s room.
“Okay, some quick do’s and dont’s for this weekend. No guns, no repulsor rays, no arrows, and no using our daughter as a beta test subject for any new experiments. When Thor gets here, no Asgardian beverages in front our child. Mila’s bedtime is 7 pm and she likes it if you do the characters' voices when you read her a bedtime story. Oh, and if she has trouble falling asleep, a lullaby usually does the trick. Got it?”
“Geez, this is almost as bad as Budapest,” Clint whispered to Kate.
“It’s going to be alright Natasha,” Wanda reassured. “We’re a family. You know we would do anything for that little girl. Please, go and enjoy your anniversary. No one deserves some special alone time more than you two”, Wanda says as she hands you a tin full of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for the trip.
You put your arm around Natasha and kiss her cheek. “Wanda is right, my love. Mila will be fine.”
Just as you complete the sentence, Mila ran back into the room. “Mommy, Mama! Morgan has Puss and Boots: The Last Wish, and we’re going to watch it tonight before bedtime.”
“That sounds like so much fun, sweetheart! I know you are going to be a good girl for your aunts and uncles and Mommy and Mama will see you on Sunday night, okay? We love you so much.” you said.
“Okay, Mommy. I love you!” She said as she hugs you so tight. Natasha knelt to kiss your daughter on the cheek and squeezed her hand three times. Their special way of saying I love you. After one last hug and kiss, you walk to the Quinjet. Tony having offered one for easy and convenient travel.
*^~^*
By the time you arrived at your hotel in Paris, it’s almost dinner time. After some sightseeing, you two enjoyed a gourmet candlelit dinner under the Parisian moon and a romantic stroll under the stars. When you got back to your room, you received a text message from Clint with a photo of your daughter asleep on her bed. Lovingly cuddled up under a blanket with Yelena.
“See, she’s okay”, you said lovingly as Natasha smiles widely at the picture of her little girl and her little sister.
As you lay in bed that night, you feel more grateful than ever to be here with the love of your life. Both of you had learned firsthand to never take anything for granted.
You were one of the lost souls left behind after the Blip. Struggling with the loss of your loved ones, you began attending Steve’s Brooklyn Support Group once a week. It was after one of those meetings that you were first introduced to the Black Widow.
Natasha hesitated at first to let anyone in. She was too scared to lose anyone else and was convinced that nothing should take away from her commitment to bring everyone back. However, she still found herself finding any excuse to attend Steve’s meetings. Whether that was to bring homemade peanut butter sandwiches for the snack table or shyly offering to give you a ride home.
You weren’t a hero or a super soldier. You didn’t remind Natasha of the guilt she carried over the last five years as the fallout from the Blip continued. You were just yourself, and that was what Natasha loved the most about you. You began to visit her at the compound, and slowly but surely the walls came down for both of you.
When she told you about the Time Heist, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t comprehend the thought of losing Natasha, but you knew that she believed in her heart that she owed it to everyone they had lost to try. When Clint returned from Vormir alone and dropped to his knees, so did you. Grief overtaking you all over again.
As the Battle for Earth became inevitable, the team hid you in a safe house off the grid. Days went by and you lost track of time, stuck in your grief and unaware of what was happening. It wasn't until a knock on your door awoke you in the middle of the night that you dropped to your knees again. This time in shock at the sight of Natasha on your doorstep. Tears streaming down her face, she told you they had won. Tony defeated Thanos with the Snap, and Steve performed a miracle by bringing her back upon returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.
So much life had happened since then. You were married in a beautiful autumnal ceremony shortly after Nat returned, bought your own house, and five years ago and twelve hours of labor later, you welcomed your daughter into the world that your wife sacrificed herself to save. You couldn’t believe how much you loved them both. Fading back into the present moment, you gently move a strand of Natasha’s unbraided red hair away from her face. Her hands move effortlessly to the nape of your neck, and you lose yourself in her touch.
*^~^*
It’s Saturday morning back at the compound, and Mila is eating blueberry pancakes when Clint strolled in from his morning workout.
“Hey, squirt! Those pancakes look amazing. Did Auntie Wanda make those?” he asked, reaching for the extra plate of pancakes on the counter.
Before Mila can even respond, the plate glides quickly away from him, enveloped in Wanda’s red magic. “Auntie Wanda did make those, but they’re only for adorable little girls named Mila. Is your name Mila?” Wanda said to Clint, with a raised eyebrow.
“No”, Clint grumbled.
“Then make your own breakfast, Hawkeye,” Wanda sighed, patting him on the back.
After breakfast, Sam and Bucky take Mila outside to play. Meanwhile, Steve is in his room working on a mission report when FRIDAY interrupts his concentration. “Mr. Rogers, I’m picking up an elevated heat signature from your shield just north of your location.” Steve looked curiously out the window to see Mila giggling as she slid across the grass. She is sitting on his overturned Captain America shield pulled by a rope tied to the back of Red Wing.
“My shield is not a toy!” Steve yelled out the window.
“Oh, hey Cap! It does make a great sled, doesn’t it?” Bucky answered, pretending not to hear what his best friend said, as Sam laughs out loud.
Steve shakes his head to hide his smile. You meant the world to him, having spent countless hours processing your grief together in that dark and dank recreation room in Brooklyn. He was honored when you and Natasha asked him to be Mila’s godfather. His shield was made from Vibranium, after all. If his goddaughter wanted to play with it, he knew no harm would be done.
That afternoon, Peter arrived at the compound to work on his newest suit upgrade with Tony. Mila is engrossed in coloring at the kitchen table with Auntie Kate when Peter walks in to get a soda.
“Hey Mila, what are you up to?”
“Coloring, do you want to help us?” Mila asked happily.
Peter nodded, and for the next twenty minutes, they got lost in her Disney Princess coloring book. After adding pretty sparkles to Elsa’s Frozen dress, Mila noticed Peter’s Spider-Man suit sticking out of his bag.
“Pretty!” Mila said with wide eyes.
“You like it?” Peter asked.
“Yes, is this how you fly? Mama says you can fly!” Mila declares.
“Something like that” Peter chuckled and tousled her hair.
Down in the lab, Tony had been waiting for Peter to arrive for a half an hour. Unusual, as his protege was normally annoyingly punctual. Running out of patience, Tony asks FRIDAY for Peter’s current location.
“Mr. Parker is in the kitchen with Ms. Bishop and the young Ms. Romanoff, sir.” Tony rolls his eyes as he trudged up the stairs.
“Hey Hawkette, have you seen Peter? He was supposed to — “
Tony stopped in his tracks as he sees Peter swinging from the ceiling with Mila on his back. Kate was too busy filming the entire spectacle on her phone to notice Tony standing there.
“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila shouted as Peter’s web carries them across the room to the top of the bookcase.
Tony’s eyes follow the pair around the room. Putting on his best poker face, “Okay. I won’t tell Romanoff or her better half, but if you break it, you pay for it. That includes the kid.” Tony warned.
“Sure thing, Mr. Stark” Peter giving Tony a thumbs up.
“And for God’s sake, at least put some pillows down on the floor!” Tony hollered as he walked back to his lab.
*^~^*
In the city of love, you and Natasha took a Saturday evening cruise down the Seine River. It was magical. You had seen the Musée d’Orsay, the Notre Dame Cathedral and had just reached the top of the Eiffel Tower when your phone alerted you to an incoming FaceTime from Carol. You swiped, her face appearing on the screen.
“Hey, you two, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be on Earth-616 tomorrow for a meeting with Fury and thought I’d drop in on my favorite couple. Wait, where are you?”
“Paris for our anniversary! Our first vacation alone in over five years. Can you believe it?” you said giddily, as Natasha puts her arms around your waist and lovingly kisses your cheek.
“Wow, that’s wonderful! Where’s your little mini-me?” Carol asked.
“With the team, actually if you’re going there anyway could you just make sure that everything is good with Mila?” Natasha inquired.
“Of course. You know you never have to ask.”
“Thank you, Carol”, you gratefully respond. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, so I’m sure we’ll see you then.” Carol gave you a mock salute, before you ended the call and put your phone back in your coat pocket.
“You look so beautiful, dorogaya. After all this time, I still can't believe you’re mine.” Nat waxed poetically, as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around your neck. Natasha could not look more beautiful in the glow of the Eiffel Tower. You decided this is the perfect moment to give her your anniversary gift. You slowly hand her the red velvet box you had snuck into your satchel. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of it.
“Detka! We said no gifts this year, this trip is gift enough.” Nat facetiously scolded.
“I know, but I still wanted to do something special for you,” you said sheepishly.
Natasha opens the box to reveal a simple and delicate gold heart locket necklace. Upon opening the pendant, she is greeted by a candid photo of all three of you. One that Clint had taken during your last visit with his family in Iowa. Nat was sitting on Clint’s front porch with a smiling Mila on her lap. You are leaning behind her with your arms wrapped lovingly around her neck. It had quickly become one of your favorite photos of your small, yet precious family.
“This is so beautiful, Moya Lyubov. Can you put it on me?”
You move Natasha’s braid away from her neck and clasped the necklace in the back. The heart locket fell directly on top of her own heart. It looked perfect on her. You're not sure who leaned in first, but your lips met in a kiss that made your stomach flutter like it was the first time. You couldn’t be happier than you were in this moment.
*^~^*
The Sunday morning sun is slowly breaking through the compound windows. Yelena was pouring your daughter a bowl of Cheerios and singing along to the sound of American Pie coming from her phone when The God of Thunder made his entrance through the Bifrost. Mila jumped and started to hide behind her Auntie Yelena, but ran toward him when she realized it’s only her Uncle Thor materializing in front of them, leaving his trademark on Pepper’s Persian rug.
“Must you do that every time? You’re becoming more of a poser than my sister.” Yelena remarked.
“Of course,” Thor said nonchalantly. “It is the only entrance fit for the God of Thunder.”
He reachesd down and lifts Mila up with one arm, “Odin’s Beard! You’ve gotten so big since the last time I saw you, Mila.” Thor declared
“I know! Did you bring me a present Uncle Thor?” Mila squealed.
“Yes! Now, let’s see here… Asgardian Ale, Mead, no… ah, here it is!” He handed the little girl a small snow globe set in gold with her name engraved elegantly on the base.
“Wow. Pretty snow globe….” Mila whispered.
“It is indeed”, Thor said, sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the little girl. “This is a special Asgardian snow globe. Look, see the rainbow bridge inside it?” He pointed. “Most importantly Lady Mila, if you shake it, I shall be there in a flash. If ever you need me, I will be there.”
“Thank you, Uncle Thor!”, Mila said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. I’m going to show it to my Teddy Bear!” Running to her bedroom.
“You spoil her, you know”, Yelena stated with a smirk, as she began to clean up the kitchen.
“I know, but she is such a grand example of goodness and joy in such a tiny human. She deserves the world.” Thor declared.
Carol arrives shortly after lunch. After a short meeting with Fury in the conference room regarding upcoming mission targets, she finds your daughter in the compound courtyard. She is wearing her vest to match her favorite auntie, as Yelena demonstrates the newest tricks Fanny has learned.
“Roll over! Good girl, Fanny!” Yelena praised the dog. Mila takes a treat out of one of her vest pockets with her tiny hand and tosses it to the Akita.
“Well done, Mila! Before you go home tonight, I will show you what else you can hide inside those pockets,” winking at her niece.
“Fruits and veggies right, Yelena?” Carol deadpanned as Mila runs over and jumps into Captain Marvel’s arms.
“Auntie Carol! When did you get here?” Your daughter giggled.
“Just a little bit ago. I talked to your Mommy and Mama last night. They miss you so much and can’t wait to see you when they get home tonight.” Carol shared before kissing your daughter on the cheek.
*^~^*
The sun was setting on your third day in Paris. You and Natasha spent the afternoon exploring the mysteries of the Louvre. You had always wanted to see the Mona Lisa in person, and Natasha was determined to make it happen. Even if it meant pushing through a crowd of tourists who got out of the way quickly when they realized the Black Widow was the one asking them to kindly move the fuck over.
You made the short walk back to your hotel and are enjoying a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries when Natasha’s phone dinged.
Carol: Hey lovebirds, all good here. Mila is doing great and is so excited to see you when you get back. However, I have a feeling you may want to check her vest pockets when you get home for some “special” presents courtesy of Auntie Yelena. 😘
Natasha giggled, showing you the text.
“The important thing is that they’re bonding,” placing a delicate kiss on her temple.
Following Wanda’s scrumptious dinner of Chicken Paprikash, your daughter was watching Frozen II. Vision attempted to explain the science behind snowflakes to her when Tony strolled into the lounge.
“Hey, kiddo do you want to come down to the lab with me and see the new Iron Man suit the Jolly Green Giant and I are working on?”
“Yay!” Mila said excitedly, jumping up and down.
“Sir, I believe Ms. Romanoff indicated there was to be no experimenting with young Ms. Mila whilst she is in our care.”
“Relax, chrome dome. We’re just looking at the new virtual mockup.” Picking up Mila and carried her to his lab.
*^~^*
A few hours later, Natasha landed the Quinjet and takes a deep breath as she reached across the console for your hand. You both stare out at the lights of the team living quarters in the distance.
“This has been a wonderful anniversary. I love you so much,” you said. “I know it was tough for you to leave Mila for three days, but not only did we have a beautiful anniversary, but our daughter got to spend meaningful time with her family that she will always remember.” You pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Natasha caresses your cheek.
“You were right, dorogaya. This was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous about leaving her. I just… never thought I would have my happily ever after. That little girl and you are my everything. It breaks my heart every time I leave either one of you.”
“I know, my love”, you said quietly. Now, let’s go get our daughter and go home.”
You walked into the compound to shouting and the sound of Fanny and Lucky barking. Natasha was about to reach for her spare Widow Bites when you both heard your daughter laughing.
The two of you entered the common room to the sight of your daughter running through the compound. She was dressed in her pajamas and one of Tony’s Iron Man helmets; a can of whipped cream in her little hands. Yelena and the rest of the team are hot on her heels; puffs of whipped cream flew behind her.
Kate skidded to a stop in front of both of you. “Oh, you guys are back. Awesome! Umm, we made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Mila enjoyed hers, as you can see”, Kate motioned, breathing heavily.
Mila took her last lap around the couch when she caught sight of you and Natasha.
“Mommy, Mama! You’re here!!” she squealed, running into Natasha’s arms.
“Hi, Moya Lyubov, we missed you so much!!” Natasha said as she wraps Mila in a big hug before passing her to you to do the same.
“It looks like you had fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” removing the helmet and brush a red curl away from her eyes.
“I had so much fun, Mommy! I got to eat yummy food, ride a sled, fly, and Auntie Yelena helped me hide special treasures in my vest pockets. Oh, and I got a magic snow globe with my name on it!” Your daughter rambled happily.
Natasha looked at you slightly skeptical, wondering if your sweet little girl was exaggerating. With your family, you were never quite sure.
“Wow, that sounds amazing, kotyonok!” Are you ready to go home now?” Nat asked as Mila gives you her best puppy dog eyes.
“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll come back and see everyone next weekend. Why don’t you go get your Teddy bear?” you suggested.
“I’ll help her with her things,” Yelena said, scooping up your daughter and walking to her bedroom.
“We can’t thank all of you enough for taking such good care of her. I know she would stay here forever if we let her.” You said as you move through the group hugging every one.
She is always welcome here, you two know that.” Wanda said, confident she was speaking for the entire team.
A few minutes later, Mila reappeared with her unicorn backpack and Yelena in tow carrying a couple more bags than what you dropped her off with. You shake your head, knowing full well that the team spoiled her with gifts. Natasha squatted down to Mila’s level and puts her hand lovingly on her back. “Can you say goodbye and thank you to all of your aunts and uncles, dorogaya?” she asked. Mila walked around the room and hugged everyone. It warms Natasha’s heart to see her family embrace your daughter with so much love and affection.
Mila fell asleep five minutes after you put her in her car seat. When you arrived home, Natasha carried her to her bed. She carefully set Mila down and pulled up the covers. You both place a gentle kiss on her forehead and quietly tiptoe out of her room. You make your way to your bedroom, deciding to leave the unpacking for the morning, both too jet lagged. Natasha sat up in bed reading with her glasses sliding adorably down her nose when you turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed beside her.
“I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic anniversary, my love” you admitted as you carefully removed her glasses from her face and gently kiss her lips. “But there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with you and our beautiful daughter.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Returning the kiss.
As Natasha starts to fall asleep, she can’t help but recall the journey that brought her here. She used to have nothing. Indoctrinated into Red Room with no free-will. A ledger soaked with blood that she wanted more than anything to wipe clean. Then came the shot Clint didn’t take, the chance that Fury did, the found family that ultimately led her to you, and the miracle that is your daughter. Her family would always be there for her, and you and Mila were happy, healthy, and safe. She was better because of it. At last, Natasha Romanoff was at peace.
#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff#yelena boleva#tony stark#thor#bruce banner#carol denvers#clint barton#steve rogers#pepper potts#morgan stark#bucky barnes#sam wilson#kate bishop#peter parker#iron man#captain america#black widow#scarlet witch#vision#hulk#captain marvel#hawkeye#god of thunder#avengers compound#paris france#mcu#the avengers#avengers x fem!reader#avengers child
813 notes
·
View notes
Text
canto V speculation/spoilers, featuring discussion of moby dick and lots of guessing.
a note that with my predictions, i am just spitballing here.
still fascinated with the fact that queequeg is a former member of the middle. i would assume she was one of the more skilled members as well, even if only just to play off her original counterpart's position as nobility in his tribe. lest we forget his strong proficiency in harpooning. i wonder if we will have ishmael reference queequeg in being instrumental to her skills with a harpoon?
given ishmael mentioning in the blubbering toad's logs having someone long ago comfort her while crying over something, i have to wonder if this was queequeg, and if queequeg ended up being a mentor to her. the way the members of the middle are referred to as either "big brother" or "big sister" makes me think of a shield/protector sort of role being advertised by them, even if it ends up being a farce. perhaps queequeg had some disillusionment with the operations of the middle? a contrast between the middle's (probable) brutality and queequeg's (if we go by the source) kind-hearted nature?
i think often on source queequeg's sentiment that his exposure to the white christian world have become a taint in his soul, and that he feels unworthy of returning to his home. the world of the city being, for better and definitely for worse "aracial" makes much of the relevance and themes of moby dick a little tricky to translate, imo. for those who might not have read moby dick, my favorite thing to say about it is: "the whale is white for a reason."
schools in the united states often teach that the lesson about race to take away from moby dick are simply not to judge another person by the color of their skin, but that is a vast oversimplification. moby dick was released pre-civil war and asserted that the very concept of whiteness is an inherent evil. it condemned slavery, argued against the merits of the very-popular-at-the-time "scientific" school of phrenology. most importantly, it suggests that the glorification of whiteness as a designation of purity and the reason to guide the "lesser non-white races" is the source of all of christianity's evils. with this in mind, i'd like to bring up that sometimes people nowadays make a show of "wow, moby dick was a commercial failure, but now it's considered one of the greatest american books ever written. thank goodness we discovered it." what actually happened is that moby dick was critically panned in virtually all liberal (in the classical/socialist sense) media circles, but celebrated in socialist ones. you can probably guess why.
perhaps that gives context to my skepticism of how queequeg will be handled in a thematic sense. some people point to queequeg in moby dick as a progenitor of the harmful "noble savage" trope, and i don't think that's entirely without basis. but the difference between moby dick and many other media with "noble savages" is that queequeg was created as a philosophical counter to the very notion of white (and christian) supremacy, whereas the majority examples use this to show the virtues of white society. there is also the fact that queequeg and his fictional home were based on actual indigenous polynesians whom the author, herman melville, actually lived with for several years and maintained strong friendships with. i personally believe that matters.
so how will project moon translate that to queequeg? i don't really know. perhaps her home was a smaller syndicate in the backstreets. maybe she's even an outsider, especially given that ishmael has spent a lot of time exploring the outskirts. ishmael seems to be a blend of the character and a biographical account of herman melville's well-recorded life and philosophical quandaries. i am definitely curious and trying to be optimistic.
there's also the presence of tanya, who was obsessed with strength and survival of the fittest to the point of distortion. maybe she will end up being retroactively made a foil to queequeg? human!tanya in a flashback, maybe? i think she can be a very interesting point to develop PJM's take on queequeg, since queequeg abandoned the middle entirely.
so yeah. needless to say. i have been Pondering. there's a lot left to discover and understand, and i'm excited to see where they take it.
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader
Rating: 18+ | The rating will be red this time, so if you are a minor skip this reading or highlight your age in your bio.| sex scenes, cuddles, and much more very explicit.
Summary: 31 prompts for 31 days of October. Life on Moby Dick is always hectic and has become more so since Ace boarded this ship and became part of the family.
✒️Prompts taken from the contest (even if I don't participate) organized by the Italian Fanwriter page. I only translated the prompts into English, I hope you like it.✒️
🌊Writober PumpSea🌊 #day 4 - Still
There are times when Ace clings to you so hard that it hurts your heart. Because your love has every now and then moments not as big as the whole ship and you don’t know what to do, Ace does not talk to you but sinks even more his fingers inside your hips to leave the mark of his presence and gives you no respite until you scratch him to blood on his back to bring him back to reality.
And that’s when you see his eyes veiled with a thick layer of poorly concealed melancholy.
The thrusts of Ace do not slow down, indeed increasing even more and kisses you as if that were your last day together and it hurts, so bad that you can not hold it to you to seek id make him understand the opposite.
"Did something happen between you?" Izo noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the last nights were quite turbulent, nightmares, reassurances, anxiety and so much fear that led you to make love in a violent and painful way.
Ace was very different, there was something that worried him and that he didn’t want to talk about and the night before when you cried out in pain everything was cracked even more.
"We didn’t fight, don’t worry, Izo… Ace has something he won’t tell me." You said looking back on the night before, Ace apologized to you, his voice was tense and he was panicked, he held you to apologize, and you tried to reassure him, but in vain.
"Go ahead and tell your big brother everything." The man told you by sitting next to you and checking that there was nobody around, for those discussions it was better not to have the presence of Satch or that of Marco, Izo was the best to talk about couple problems and was much quieter than the other two.
You took a deep breath and leaned on him: "Well, for now… let’s say in bed it’s a disaster. Ace seems to be absent when we do it or has the look so sad that I don’t recognize him or worse sometimes it’s so… so violent, but not in a bad way, that hurts me and then he feels guilty and I try to reassure him but… but he runs away and won’t tell me anything else." You said by carrying your arms around to tighten your belly, your throat felt swollen, full of bile and stress accumulated in those days.
Izo stroked your hair to calm you down a bit and then said, "Does it keep you away? Does it avoid you?"
"No, Izo we’re together all the time, laughing, joking, kissing, but at night… I don’t know what’s wrong with him." You whispered by biting the inside of your cheek.
"The only thing I can think of that Ace is afraid to share in his pain." The man replied by stroking your back and you looked at him with a look that said to explain himself better: "Didn’t Ace tell you about his past?" He asked Izo, looking at you perplexed.
"In general, it’s not a topic he likes and the few times he tells me something are just the beautiful things he shared with Luffy." Did you respond by feeling a knot in your stomach, maybe you weren’t open enough? Maybe you should have investigated more.
"I think I know what he’s thinking." Izo said, smiling at you, "Ace’s just afraid that what’s happening to him with you is something he doesn’t deserve. Unfortunately this is a doubt that has plagued him for a long time and even Dad tried to make him understand that he is wrong to deprive himself of happiness, but you have come as a ray of sunshine in his life and he is afraid." He told you as he took you by the arm and led you to a more secluded place, the other commanders were approaching and it was better not to take such speeches with the older ones.
"Is he afraid of me?" You asked, feeling an emptiness in his stomach. Ace never told you all this.
"Not like that, sis, but he’s afraid you might slip out of his arms when he holds you, that you might leave him alone. Ace is afraid of loneliness." Izo said extending his arms and smiling bitterly, as if that speech touched him very closely.
"But he’s stupid or what!? How can he think I can let him go? I love him Izo, I love him so much that I’d be willing to drown with him at sea if I couldn’t save him." You said with tears in your eyes and your chest that it hurt.
You just imagined the pain that Ace was carrying inside, but you didn’t think it was as much pain as she could handle.
Izo smiled at you again: "We men are very stupid sometimes, we do not understand that when we have someone who loves us we can share everything with that person, but little sister the ghosts of Ace’s past are very very dark." She told you by wiping your tears with her kimono sleeve.
"Why won’t you tell me…" You asked and Izo shrunk his heart seeing you so sad, he hugged you to calm you down and whispered words of comfort.
"Little sister, listen carefully, Ace just wants to protect you from this darkness that follows him everywhere." He said pinching your cheeks and smiling at you.
"But he’s still a fool! My fool, be clear." You said assuming an expression of love and disapproval at the same time, ready to go straight to your boyfriend to confront him. How he had held such a heavy burden in his head all those months was something you could not understand, how it had not broken out was still a mystery to you.
"Can I afford some advice? Let’s go shopping together." Izo said taking you under his arm to get off the ship.
"Wait, Izo, what do you mean?" You wondered as you followed him intrigued, you still had a lump at the throat but it was more bearable after talking to your big brother, but you did not want to waste time to go and talk to Ace as soon as possible.
"We men don’t think when we have a woman in a nice suit." He winked at you. And then you realized the kind of shopping you were gonna do together: "And Ace went on a mission with Satch to confront some pirates. They will come back after dinner." He added as you went down the bridge and headed for the nearest town.
The afternoon had passed very quickly between underwear and suit shops, at the end you returned to the Moby Dick for dinner time, attracting a little' the attention of all with the packages you carried in hand and quickly disappeared in the cabin of Ace, It was also your cabin for how many times you slept there and for all the clothes you left us.
"Are you ready to decorate everything?"
You nodded and started coming out candles and petals and new sheets - the last ones had burned a little too much.
An hour later the whole room, the bathroom and every single piece of furniture had been placed and you were left alone to be prepared.
"I’m going to block Ace and Satch, they’ll be back soon." Izo said winking at you: "Don’t force him too much, if Ace wants he’ll talk. Then I want all the details anyway." He said Izo coming out the door and you thanked him with a mold kiss before he was completely out.
Now you had to settle down.
You wasted no time, you took off the clothes and underwear you were wearing and you rinsed quickly and then you started to get settled. Izo had good taste in the new burgundy red suit you were wearing.
A lace thong for the bottom and a lace bodice with hooks and bows that you have fastened one by one. Oh by that night, Ace would have freaked out and taken them off. You let your hair down and put on a pair of lake bracelets and a chain around your pelvis and then you looked in the mirror.
Settling in here and hanging out. You set the tub with the hot water and candles, and you placed the light in Ace’s room so that it would resemble the atmosphere of the sunset.
And while you were looking at all of your work, you heard the door open, a familiar voice, and then the door slams shut very fast.
"Welcome back Love!" You said turning to Ace and going to meet him to embrace and kiss him.
His gaze was lost on your body, it took a while for him to recover, but then he hugged you hard and held you by the hips, lifting you and making a turn on himself and then kissing you.
"All this for what…" You interrupted Ace before he could finish him by silencing him with a kiss on the nose.
"There’s no specific thing, it’s just for the two of us." You said flaunting your sweetest smile, you felt a tremor in his arms and you caressed his face, for a moment in his eyes appeared that spark of melancholy, but it was taken away immediately after.
Ace kissed you again, first his nose, then his cheeks, eyes and finally his lips as he carried you to the bed.
"Wait, I made you a hot bath, I want to tell you all about today." You said pointing at the door and the steaming steam coming out. You literally dragged him into the bathroom, stripped him of his clothes and put them in the laundry basket.
You sat on the edge of the tub inviting him to come in and use your legs as a pillow, and you started massaging his shoulders to take away the tension, and saying he was tense was too little.
"Ace… honey, you know you can talk to me about anything." You said while using shampoo in her hair and your boyfriend sighed at that touch and kissed your inner thigh.
You sighed at that kiss, but before you dealt with the subject before you could solve it.
"Honey, something’s bothering you right now…" You said by massaging her skin even more gently and Ace sighed and looked up at you.
"You don’t have to worry Honey, it’ll pass eventually…" He responded by kissing your inner thigh again and putting some foam on your leg.
"Ace…" You called his name and he looked at you with those onyx eyes and he smiled bitterly, leaned on you and sighed.
"I’ve only talked to Dad and Marco about it for now, but I think I owe you an explanation." He started saying and you invited him to continue: "Would you still love me if I was the son of a monster?" And that question threw you for a second.
"Ace what questions I am! Of course I would love you anyway, the sins of parents do not fall on the children." You said take him by the cheeks and stare him right in the eye.
"I am the son of Gol D Roger, I took my mother’s name, but his blood flows in my veins." He said getting out of the bathtub to get out and dry.
Gol D Roger, the king of pirates, the man most feared by the government, the man whom White Beard valued more than anyone else.
"Ace, whatever they told you about him is not true. Dad met the king of pirates in the past, they always clashed, I have a head full of tales of their adventures! Roger was not a monster. You’re not a monster." You said running to hug him from behind.
He was tense, so tense, and you held him tighter.
What they told him to make him hate himself so much.
"Even Dad told me, but I’m still the son of a monster for everyone who didn’t even deserve to be born." He said, turning to you, tears in your eyes and a heart full of pain, "How can you be with someone like me? With a person who has the blood of the devil himself." And those words have hurt you, so much.
And you did the one thing that felt right at the time.
You took his face in your hands and kissed him slowly, no running, no caring, no imposition, just a kiss full of everything you felt for him.
You felt his hands hesitate before you tightened your hips and held onto him.
"You more than anyone else deserve to live Ace." You said with a firm voice and pointing your gaze at your boyfriend’s: "I don’t care, whatever the evil voices say, I love you. I met a boy, an earthquake of emotions with a power so strong that it made the world tremble, but he never used it to hurt anyone and slowly opened up to me. You fought Dad, but it never occurred to you to take me hostage or hurt me when we knew each other, only the real devil would. Ace you are not your father, you also have your mother’s blood, you live for her, you live for the woman who gave you life with so much difficulty. Live for your brother Luffy and for all of us." You said hugging him tightly to you.
"Live for me and all the adventures that await us." You said kissing him again, and this time the kiss between you two was filled with so much emotion. Ace allowed you to touch the darkness that was smothering him, and you were determined to take it from him with all your might.
"I think I don’t deserve you…" Ace said, and you pinched him.
"Ace listen to me, I love you." You said pushing him to bed and straddling him: "I love you. Nothing will change my mind, may the sky fall, the sea become dry and all the catastrophes of this world come to pass, I will always love you." You said with tears in your eyes and clutching at him.
Ace had suddenly come into your life and you wouldn’t let him go without a fight.
He held you tight to himself and leave you a kiss on your forehead.
"I’m sorry about this period." Ace said, lifting your chin to look at you better and wiping your tears with your thumb, "I’m sorry that I worried you and hurt you, but I… I… you are my perfect love and I was so afraid that you would go away that…" The words had died in his throat as tears fell from his eyes.
"Ace, I’ll tell you forever. I love you, and nothing and no one will take me away from you."
And he smiled at you, one of those smiles that taste of melancholy and hope at the same time.
You kissed again and said nothing else to each other. You just needed to love each other in silence.
Ace took all the time in the world to undress you, he started from the bodice by pulling out one thread at a time and placing warm kisses on every inch of skin that was exposed to the light of candles.
"This will become my favorite from now on." He whispered to you in a voice that shriveled from tears and you smiled at him.
He kissed you until you get to your center asking permission to enter because the impatience to satiate your bodies was so much that he just wanted to join and you.
You have consented and Ace has entered slowly inside you, kissing your breasts and pelvis to distract you from the pain and whispering sweet words in your ear when your basins have merged as to become one.
There was pain, you could feel it, but there was more.
Much more.
And the thrusts that followed were slow and gentle. You clung to his shoulders to find a foothold to all the sensations that were flowing inside you, you scratched him and kissed him to keep him connected with you and the moans coming out of your mouths were loaded with the tension accumulated at that time.
"With me you can vent everything…" You whispered in his ear starting to meet his movements with your pelvis. Ace kissed you choking on your moans when he started going at a faster pace.
You bit his neck with a groan hard enough to leave chills down his spine.
The thrusts have become stronger and his hands have harpooned at your hips. You shored your feet on the mattress and you anchored yourself behind Ace scratching him harder, maybe you even hurt him, but he had hit the same spot the previous nights and for a moment your vision was clouded.
"I’m sorry Love…" He tried to say but you silenced him with a kiss. If he needed to hold you so much you were fine. You would have done anything to make him understand that you would never leave him.
You arched your back and curled your toes when her fingers sank into your flesh for the second time, and you were sure they would leave a mark.
But you didn’t back down, the pain was replaced by pleasure.
Push and counter push. Muffled sounds and groans smothered by your lips colliding, you were so close that you hurt, almost as if to melt forever.
Oh what Ace did to make you fall in love to that extent. He came by chance wounded and beaten, but he became the sun that brightened your days.
Your heart leaped forward, and so did Ace’s.
Some more push and you have come together, choking your pleasure in a needy and wet kiss, remaining united among you.
You wouldn’t be off all night.
Ace used his power to extinguish the candle flames, the light had gone out and you were in the dark. Two naked, entangled bodies that no one could share.
Two hearts that had become one.
"I love you. I love you. I love you." Ace told you by leaving a kiss on your forehead and squeezing you.
"I love you, too, Ace." You said hiding in his arms, in what was a safe haven for you and what you took to call home.
You fell asleep tight to each other, contented, happy, with less weight on your souls and full of love.
"Satch forbid you to go and wake them." Izo had taken Satch for his yellow scarf and carried him away from Ace’s cabin.
"But what! Next Izo you know the rules everyone…" But the murderous look of his brother made the cook shut up in less than two seconds.
"They need to be with each other. It’s not just fistfights or talks with Dad. They need each other and no one should dare disturb them." He said the raven also looking badly at Mark and marching to the dining room for breakfast without admitting replicas.
Neither of them dared to respond.
#one piece#portgas ace smut#ace smut#ace x oc#ace x reader#portgas ace x you#portgas d ace x reader#portugas d ace#one piece ace#portgas d ace smut#portgas d ace#Happy_Ely🪷#soft smut#smut#one piece x reader
75 notes
·
View notes
Note
Firstly, I wanted to say thank you for finally making Moby Dick comprehensible to me over a decade after I attempted to read it and bounced aggressively off it! But the thing I actually wanted to ask and boggle about is, you get a full year of maternity leave??? I think literally the company with the most mind-bogglingly generous policy I ever worked for (I'm in the US) only gave 7 months, and the place I'm at now only gives I think 3 or so.
You're very welcome! It's very exciting to me that a line by line translation of Moby Dick can make it so much more accessible.
On your second point - yeah! I'm always happy to talk about parental leave policies etc and how different countries handle them, not in a smug "Well, in the UK..." way but in a, "here's very concrete examples of how policies can work, and the material impact they have on people" sort of way, because that's genuinely something that needs to be communicated. Just like with the environmental crises, we are all limited by our ability to imagine the Healed World and what we need to do to get there. So what are some policies that are a bit more Healed-World-ish than the reality that many people live in, and how do they actually work? You are welcome to send me asks! Rumination below the cut.
I wouldn't have had kids if I'd stayed in the USA. I've chosen to have 3 in the UK. This is directly because of maternity leave, free childcare hours for toddlers, quality of childcare, accessibility of school/daycare, flexible working policies, generous holiday leave, and other factors like that. Does that seem weird to say? Should I have moped about in floods of divine baby-desire and universal mother-yearnings and stuff, and sacrificed everything to have squidgy babies? IDK, I've never felt any of those things: I love the children a lot as people and I'm obviously terrifically glad they're here, but I wouldn't have had any desire to have them in the first place if I hadn't been sure they'd have decent childhoods. And a childhood where a parent resents them because that parent had UNFULFILLED INTELLECTUAL GOALS, or where there's always stress because of MATERIAL DIFFICULTIES, wouldn't be decent. My desire to acquire the children has been very much based in the knowledge that I can afford them (financially, emotionally, socially, career-wise, mentally) without sacrificing or martyring myself. So, literally: even though I have 2 life-defining children and one more on the way, even though I'm considered in my immediate social circles to be a real earth-mother crunchy-type, even though I work part-time to spend time with the kids and so on: if I didn't live THIS life, I wouldn't want the children. So I think it’s interesting to see how a simple piece of policy, a difference between nations, so totally impacts and directs the course of an individual’s life.
RE: the actual practicalities, it breaks down a funny way. In the UK, they hold your job for you for up to a year, usually hiring a temporary maternity cover: if they can't give you the same job back, they have to give you a similar one. If you return in 6 months it’s like you didn’t leave at all and get the exact job back. Maternity leave is usually taken for about 9 months, with paternity leave often adding an additional 3 months, and children usually entering childcare at the age of 1.
The actual way that this gets calculated is pretty complicated. My job offers 6 months on full pay, which is a "benefit" - otherwise the default is only 6 weeks on full pay. After the full pay runs out, you're on SMP - Statutory Maternity Pay - which is £156.66 per week. SMP runs out at nine months. If you want more time than that, your job gets held for a full year, but you'll be on 3 months unpaid. -> HOWEVER, you've been accruing annual leave the whole time you've been off, so when the baby is 9 months old, you might expect to have about 6 weeks of holiday that built up. Holiday is taken at full pay rates. So depending on how much holiday you have, you just return to work while on vacation and get paid again.
If you return to work at 6 months, which is sort of the minimum normal time to take off, you get your exact same job back. If you take longer than 6 months, you get that "offer of an equivalent job" but no promise of having your job back - which can worry people. So sometimes people happily choose to take only 6 months off, because they want their exact same projects back.
So what will happen with me is
6 months off on full pay, Dr Glass takes about 1 month off on full pay parental leave at the beginning to provide support
(Child2 enters age where they get 30 hours/week free childcare, daycare bills drop to basically just Child1's afterschool programs from here until last bullet point. As Dr Glass and I both work part time, this means that each day of the week will have a mix of different children, activities and work. We will hopefully be able to bank a little bit of childcare-budget to coast on for the next bits.)
3 months off where I'll only make £624 a month SMP: it’s not nothing and so should be grateful, except for the relentlessness of life. I also get £150/month from the government for having two children - nothing for the third because that would be encouraging families to rely on benefits and have children for money, or something, naturally. Dr Glass will be working, but no family can really lose almost half a wage and be cheerful about it, so we'll have to coast on savings banked from the room freed up in the childcare budget. (we thought it would just about work before the cost-of-living crisis, when we filed our plan paperwork, and gotta say, it’s looking pretty scary now.) we’ll prioritise the mortgage and utilities in cash, and should be able to coast it.
2-ish months off but "on holiday," i.e. back on full pay
Dr Glass overlaps one month off on full pay (holiday + shared parental leave) plus two months totally unpaid, i.e. Unpaid Leave, i.e. Dr Glass keeps his job and simply takes two months off, making £0 a month. Again, this will be hard to get through, but as we know it's coming, we have time to make SOME savings to live on. This allows Dr Glass to have time with his last child, which is a priority for us over debt, and gets the baby comfortably to the age that our nursery accepts.
Both parents return to work. Baby will enter daycare aged 1 (Child2 remains on free hours, daycare bills go back up to mortgage-level payments, finances return to exactly where they were before Baby3.) hopefully we’ll be able to quickly pay down any debts incurred with two full wages.
You can see it's doable, but there are some scary flippin' periods and a tremendous amount of footwork. We've somehow managed during harder times; with Child1 I was the sole breadwinner for the household and was at a job where I only got SMP, so I went back to work at 6 months and Dr Glass was a SAHP for a long time; with Child2 it was pandemic and lockdown etc, and no childcare was available, so we all ricocheted around the house together for a year. So clearly something absolutely bonkers is going to happen in 2023, but if it doesn't, we might actually have one (1) normal baby-leave.
As you can see, it's NOT the Healed World, but it has aspects that you'll want to include in the Healed World. You can see the impacts on things like family design - the kids all being 3 years apart for affordability, as that's when the free childcare hours kick in - and the way that fathers are still sort of wedging themselves in. You can see how it gets cobbled together and stressful, and the bits where you have to coast over patches that could just as easily destroy a family (watch this space! We might go completely fucking broke! We’re about £200 away from it at all times as it it!) You can see that there are some privileges (having a partner, partner having a job) that materially affect the experience people have. You can see how sometimes people can take a year and others return to work at 6 months (I've done both! Both can be great and both can suck, but it's MUCH better when you choose it for yourself, rather than being forced financially.) you can see that some cruel and stupid policy decisions are meant to punish poor people in the UK for having children despite the lack of internal logic (no child benefit for over 2 kids, when child benefit is meant to help you raise citizens.) You can see places where a conservative politician could shit on one vulnerable place (like the UK’s free childcare hours for three year olds! Liz Truss was thinking about killing it!) and entirely destroy my family at a stroke. You can see that for all my stance of “I am not a martyr” for my children, I’m expecting to have spent several years of my life flippantly being marginally-waged for the sake of having them: but also, you can see the difference between the support the UK gives my stance, and the support a 20-year-old military wife in the American heartland gets with her first baby: you can see how eased the paths of my children are, how isolated hers will be. You can step back from the worldwide generational immolation of mothers, their narratives of sacrifice and drudgery, and unpack how much of that is truly necessary, and how much damage could have been resolved by simply rinsing off the TERF shit, offering a few scraps of healthcare, and giving them a few fucking months off work.
We are all worldbuilding the Healed World: it makes sense to understand the different ways it could work. I’ll longpost about any policy you guys would like until then.
335 notes
·
View notes
Note
how would you rank the beatles album covers?
like this:
13) "By the way, what happened to my idea of putting the parody of our first album cover on the Let It Be cover?” - John Lennon, 1971
Just uninspired. Good for coming up with conspiracy theories about the death of Paul McCartney but not much else.
12) Eyes Still Work After Seeing This? Includes a 24-Page Full Colour Picture Book!
Every time I look at this I find another bizarre thing, but that's not even the real issue because it fails on the basic level where you can figure out what the product is and who made it. The red tinting on the highlight behind the font they used to list the songs makes it hard to read, and BEATLES blends into the background so well you might not even realise it's there. Did they use the circle to design this cover? PAUL?
11) A Covers Band So Good, Sometimes We Even Let Them Sing Their Own Songs!
It might be because of the asymmetrical Beatle heads. It might be because they got beaten to the edge-to-edge cover punch by The Rolling Stones. It might be because it makes me think of the uncanny Mr Incredible meme.
10) POV: You Are Falling To Your Death
I actually like this picture quite a lot but it upsets me... why couldn't they just typeset it so the railings and the writing were going in the same direction...
9) Damn Bro You Got The Whole Squad Laughing
In many ways, she is who With The Beatles wishes she was, but I can't rank it any higher because it's literally just a picture of them. Look, they've had a rough year.
8) Paul is Dead Evidence 2: Electric Boogaloo
The art is nice, but it does just seem like a retread of the Revolver cover. Bit unexciting.
7)
Part of me wishes they'd gone the whole Yeezus route and packaged it in a clear plastic sleeve with THE BEATLES embossed on it, but the blank white is also pretty evocative. There's a whole chapter in Moby Dick about how terrifying the colour white is.
6) The Beatles, N-U-J-V!
It makes me think of Weezer's Blue Album and that's why it's good.
5) The Beatles Demonstrate The Many Ways To Have A Face
Not many people know this but the middle picture in the George row was actually used as the Tumblr default icon way back in the day.
4) This Strain is Called “Rubber Soul” 😳 You’ll Be Zonked Out Of Your Gourd 💯
'When first I saw your latest LP sleeve
My eyes, dear Beatles, I could scarce believe
There's nobody, I feel, could like it much
Except, perhaps, the vampire-minded Sutch.
I tried to Work It Out, but I could not,
Why such a very photogenic lot
Should want to see yourselves portrayed as freaks;'
- Annabel Lee
3) Honey, They're Crossing The Road Again
Deserves the dub for the sheer achievement of taking a picture of four people in motion where they all look good.
2)
Before you get mad at Klaus for dissing Paul McCartney, remember that he a) made the Revolver cover and b) was really hot. So he can basically do whatever he wants.
1) Paul Is Dead Evidence 3: Faul's Revenge
I still don't know what that creature in the chair is supposed to be.
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
Picked up a new book recently, looked cool, something to skim through, you know how it is. But now, every time I open a book inside is just the book I bought. Percy Jackson? Nope, weird hieroglyphics. Wanted to read a graphic novel? Too bad, you get weird geometric circle stuff! Actually started a while ago but the reason I’m asking now is because it’s getting worse. I saw a stop sign but instead of saying ‘STOP’ it’s got a page of the book over it! No one else sees it, worried if I’m just going bonkers here…. Any advice?
Very strange. Like the Moby Dick message a bit ago, but with odd symbols....are they similar to any you've seen before? Egyptian, for instance. IF we can determine if it's an existing language, we can try and determine the origin of whatever's doing this.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
𐐪Playing it Cool𐑂 -(but failing like hot garbage)-
You know when you try to make yourself look really cool and impress someone but it utterly fails?
Yeah... so do they (´・ω・｀)
Ace:
Will pace a burning circle into the ground he walks until there’s an 8ft deep ring.
Will probably rattle off a bunch of corny pick up lines from the 90’s
Ace: “Hey good lookin’ what’s cookin?”
Y/N: “Um, you, I think. The ground has been completely razed from where you’ve been walking..”
Ace: “Aha, yeah, can I get some fries with that shake?”
Y/N: “Ace, you’re on fire and so is the ship, now!”
what 🤷♀️ if 🧐 we 👫 kissed 💏 on ⬇️ the moby 🐳 dick 🍆 while 💬 the whole island 🏝and ship ⛵burned and pops 🤠 held 🤝 me 💑 hostage 🔐 to prevent 🚫 this ☝🏽 from happening 💫 again ♻ this week 💦💢ahhh
Law:
Can't feel if he’s shooting enough daggers at you, so he ends up scrunching his face up like he’s really holding in the bubble guts
Tries to ignore you completely but ends up roping you into every conversation since you’re already on his mind
Law: “Tch, I bet Y/N doesn’t has the slightest clue when it comes to Krebs Cycle.”
Law: “I dare Y/N to even take a step in this direction – I’ll just move move my head indignantly in *this* direction to look even more aloof.”
Penguin: “Law what the fuck are you going on about?”
He likes to watch you from a distance but does a very poor job at concealing himself within the bushes from across the way since the pair of binoculars he’s using keeps reflecting the lens glare straight into your eyes, revealing his exact location and the dubious Bepo costume he’s been wearing to blend in with the natural fauna of the area
Katakuri:
Even though he’s eyeing you down and looks super intimidating, underneath that scarf he looks like:
⠀ __
(⁄ ⁄•⁄vWv⁄•⁄ ⁄)
＿ノ ヽ ノ＼＿
/ `/ ⌒Ｙ⌒ Ｙ \
( (三ヽ人 / |
| ﾉ⌒＼ ￣￣ヽ ノ
ヽ＿＿＿＞､＿＿／
｜( 王 ﾉ〈
/ﾐ`ー―彡\
Despite how imposing his figure is, occasionally you'll find his hand beside your face, offering you a donut or cookie
In few words, he’ll inform you what kind it is since it’s never the same flavor
“Dark chocolate raspberry. It’s good.”
“Ice cream batter.”
“Snozzberry. My personal recipe. Try it.” (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)
Kid:
Kid: “Y/N? Never heard of them.”
Kid: “Oi, check this out – no one can do this better than me!”
*scatters trash all over the place*
Kid: “I can totally tell if you have a cow magnet in your stomach right now”
Killer: “Kid, what the fuck?? Don’t?”
Kid: “So you’re saying there’s a cow magnet in there. That’s fine, keep your not-so-secrets, Y/N.”
Rosinante:
Depends on what side of his job you meet him on, but disastrous all the same
If you meet him as Corazon, he’ll try to be mean but in a cool way that he thinks people likes
Will decorate flashcards beautified just for you that will read as:
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: bitch :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧,
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ass goblin˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ,
·̩̩̥͙＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚beth˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥͙
You have no idea why he keeps calling you that and he doesn’t understand why you keep punching him for it
As a marine, his generosity is a bit more transparent, along with his romantic gestures and intent
He’ll outright pick you some flowers, which, of course, are poisonous and only then will he discover the creeping rash on his arms as he hands them to you
It would not be the first time he buys you a snack or pay for lunch and the chef wanted to be a lil trifling that day and you find some hair or things-that-should-be-attached-to-your-persons-and-not-found-in-my-food in your food.
Sanji:
Begins to speak fluent French and can only operate in romantic gestures
Will throw down any garment he may be wearing in order for you to walk over a puddle, mud, trash, etc
…sometimes that means Chopper if he’s riding his head or nearby at the time of your passage
Y/N: "Sanji, are you okay? You don’t have to do all that – this toilet paper is just fine, silly."
Sanji: "Es-tu sûr??"
Y/N: "Yes, but thank you. A face towel is a bit much."
Sanji: *sighs in French disappointment as you unknowingly decline to use Zoro’s face towel as toilet paper*
Zoro:
Would be even more of an awkward dork than he already is and would stumble over the limited amount of words he’s capable of speaking
Zoro: “Oi, Y/N. Eyes.”
Y/N: “Eyes? What do you mean?”
Zoro: “Like them. Nice.”
Y/N: “..thanks, Zoro.”
Zoro: “….ass ass ass ass ass ass ass”
#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#portgas d ace#charlotte katakuri#trafalgar law#eustass kid#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#one piece#donquixote rosinante#donquixote corazon#pink thread of fate#this was a nice reprieve but anyways ;v;
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
sweetest things
violet, klaus, beatrice, bertrand
gen
3,155 words
To the consternation of most of the Baudelaire household, the third Baudelaire child takes her very sweet time making an appearance.
my fic for @snckt for @asouefanworkevent's wicked way exchange!!! lainey, i loved ALL your prompts so much and i, fully 100% intend to do another one as well, when i can get my head around it better. but here is some baudelaire family slice of life!!
By Friday afternoon, according to Violet’s checklist, the Baudelaire family had tried –
1) An after dinner walk (It was fun for the four of them to go around the block after dinner, with Klaus pointing out all the summer flowers, but it hadn’t done anything at all. Mother hadn’t been very optimistic about that option anyway. She walked around all the time, and if that wasn’t enough to jog anything, more average physical exercise was unlikely to move things along.)
2) Surprising Mother (Father had hidden himself around the house all day and tried to startle her – it had only really worked once, and mostly just succeeded in Mother almost smacking Father right in the face with her summer book. They were all very thankful Mother was rereading Violet and Klaus’s books from when they were very little, and not her customary enormous summer novel. Violet wondered what would’ve become of Father’s face if he’d been smacked with, say, Mother’s gigantic illustrated Moby Dick with the gilded cover. Something very horrid, she thought. Father was very handsome.)
3) Dancing (Also a regular activity, but one Mother enjoyed much, much more than the after dinner walk. They’d all been sure that a whole afternoon of elegant tangos and brisk but careful sambas would be the perfect thing – but Mother had ended the day sitting and grumbling when nothing happened.)
4) Not doing anything in particular (On the chance that merely suspending their wait and pretending they weren’t waiting might cause something to happen. They all carried on with their usual day – Father brought Mother lemonade, and Mother read regular, adult books, and then did a crossword puzzle with Klaus, and Father worked on his puzzle book, and Violet and Klaus played chess in the library and gave answers when Father asked them for help with the trivia section, and then Mother and Father played game after game after game of backgammon, and they all painted their toenails again (with Violet and Klaus and Father taking turns doing Mother’s toenails), and none of them entered the nursery just to even look at it and make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and they even moved Mother’s hospital bags from the front foyer into a closet, and then they all sat around in the afternoon sun not doing anything until Mother let out a very dramatic sigh and said they should give it up as a lost cause. They’d gone out for ice cream that night, as a reward for all their trouble. They were a few days past Mother’s initial due date now, or her due week, because Violet had been late and Klaus had been early, so when it came to expecting her third child, Mother circled the whole first week of August so she was prepared at any moment. After the ice cream, she’d looked at the calendar in the hall almost like it had betrayed her.)
5) Laughing (Father told the most terrible, awful puns and jokes, and went around a whole morning making jokes in the library to make Mother laugh. Violet and Klaus thought Mother had to be humoring him, but it was her genuine laugh, every time. Maybe, they figured, when you married someone, you thought them saying “You’re a real page turner” and looking between Mother and the book she’d been holding was endearing, not embarrassing. Either way, that hadn’t worked, either.)
Violet starred the next thing on her list – spicy food – then put down her notebook and scooped up her invention into her arms. She carried it back downstairs, stepping over Klaus, who was in his usual position on the floor outside the kitchen, where the sunlight came in the best through the big glass window above the sink and filled up all the spaces of the Baudelaire home with a soft, yellow light. It fell right on the pages of Klaus’s book, just the way he liked it.
“What are you reading?” Violet asked, looking back over her shoulder.
“Nothing,” Klaus mumbled. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet this week, Violet thought, barely helping at all with Violet’s list. It was like all the anticipation, all the excitement, all the wondering and waiting just passed right over him. Violet frowned down at Klaus’s head, buried back in his book. She figured that when Klaus wanted to talk, then he would surely tell her what was bothering him. She’d just have to wait him out, too. And Violet was getting excellent practice at waiting things out.
“Ah! Is this it?”
Violet turned back to the kitchen. Father was looking at her expectantly, standing by the counter with the tomatoes and peppers and cucumbers and one onion all laid out. She rushed over and set her invention down.
She picked up one of the tomatoes and fit it onto the top dowel. Violet pressed the tiny button she’d put a tomato sticker on, and her invention whirred to life as she and Father watched – the tomato spun around as the record player underneath it started up, and on the first revolution, the skin of the tomato peeled off, and on the next, it split open, sliced out from the inside, creating neat little cubes of tomato that fell onto the transparent plate below, all to the tune of one of Father’s bossa nova records, the sound coming out of the gramophone horn fixed on the side. Violet beamed. She’d designed it last week, after seeing a box grater display in the supermarket, and knew she could do better.
“Wonderful!” Father said. “Very well done, Ed.” He removed the tomato pieces and set them in the big glass bowl at his elbow, then set one of the cucumbers on the dowel. “You can get started on the croutons,” he continued, gesturing at the sideboard cabinet, where he’d put the bread last night.
Violet picked up the big bread knife nearby and got to cutting. It would be easier, she started thinking, if there was a machine for this, too – and something that would toast the croutons – and something to saute the garlic to put them in – and maybe something to tell time while you were doing it, too – and maybe –
“Croutons first!” Father said.
Violet realized she’d been reaching for the ribbon in her trouser pocket. She gave herself a little shake and got back to the bread. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Father set the chopper for the cucumber. He was humming along with The Girl From Ipanema, and perfectly at ease. An excellent opportunity to try and catch him off guard.
“Where’s Mother?” Violet asked, to start.
“In the library,” Father said. He removed the cucumber and replaced it with a pepper. “Relaxing.”
“And it did not work,” came an irritated voice, and Violet and Father both looked up to see Mother in the doorway, holding onto the jamb as she stepped over Klaus as well and lowered herself slowly and gingerly down into one of the stools by the counter. Klaus watched her carefully until she’d sat down, and went back at his book.
“Aha! Here she is!” Father exclaimed. “Miss Tall and Tan and Young and Lovely herself!” He leaned over and gave Mother a quick kiss on her forehead, brushing some of the hair that had fallen out of the bun atop her head out of her face.
Violet barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Father was at it again. Certainly, Mother was tan and young and lovely, but not very tall at all. But it made Mother look a little less grumbly, and that was good.
“Anything I can do to help?” Mother asked. She adjusted her position in the stool, sitting at an angle so the curve of her stomach didn’t hit against anything. “Get you the vinegar? The coriander? Dance around with the salt shaker until I salsa this child out of me?”
“All you have to do is sit there and look nice,” Father said. “Which you already do, effortlessly. And not eat all the cucumbers,” he added, waving Mother’s wandering hand away from the big bowl.
Violet waited a few moments, slicing into the bread again. She wasn’t sure how she’d fare against both of her parents at the same time, now, but maybe it would cheer Mother up. And hopefully Klaus would join in. “I wonder if Ginger will like gazpacho,” she said, keeping her tone light.
Father started humming again. Mother was suddenly inspecting her fingernails, looking very interested.
Violet reached over into the icebox for the half-used garlic bulb. “Or if – ” She caught sight of the mason jar filled with soft, small green leaves. “ – Sage will like garlic croutons.”
Father smiled once more, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses, and Mother successfully stole a piece of cucumber from the big glass bowl and popped it into her mouth. “Very refreshing,” she commented. Father gave her a mock-stern look, until Mother said, “You said all the cucumbers, that was one cucumber.” She maintained eye contact as she reached into the bowl and took another. “Two,” she said, around the cucumber.
Violet puffed out a sigh. Mother and Father had been so tight-lipped for the past nine months about what they were going to name their third child. Violet and Klaus had taken to dropping name options at every opportunity, to see if they could jog a response. Not even food-themed names could get them to talk. Mother and Father were going to make them wait until the baby was born. Which, at this rate, could take an age.
All of a sudden, Klaus cut in. “Babies can’t eat gazpacho,” he called, looking into the kitchen. “Or garlic croutons.”
Violet didn’t scowl – she thought she was much too old for scowling – but her face scrunched up, just like Mother’s had been doing. Why didn’t Klaus want to have fun anymore? It wasn’t as if they’d run out of food names. And of course babies couldn’t eat gazpacho, but that wasn’t the point.
“Perhaps Pepper will like gazpacho when they’re old enough to try it,” Father said. He scooped up the last pepper and dropped it in with the rest of the ingredients. “Klaus, stop sulking down there and get the vinegar and citrus juice for me, please.”
Violet almost thought Klaus would insist he wasn’t sulking, he seemed in that sour of a mood, but it was hard to talk back to Father. So Klaus got up from the hall, bookmarked his page with a thin slip of paper, and joined Violet and Father and Mother in the kitchen.
While Violet and Klaus bustled around, getting the remaining ingredients, Mother chopped up a scallion into little pieces with a knife. Scallions! The one thing Violet hadn’t allotted for in her invention. She’d have to make an adjustment for that, later. Mother complemented Violet’s handiwork, then helped her cross a few wires so they could use it as a regular record player too, without needing to slice or chop anything more, and the Gilberto album went on, filling the kitchen with soft saxophones and guitars. When Father and Mother had mixed everything together in the bowl, Father placed the soup in the fridge so it could chill, and then the four of them made the croutons together.
They crowded around the stove top, pressed close to Mother as she sauted the butter and garlic in a pan before tossing all the bread cubes in alongside. Klaus got to shake the pan around to coat the bread, and use the big salt grinder to sprinkle them with salt after, and he looked a little happier.
Mother and Father piled the croutons atop a cream napkin on plate. “Well, we have to try them,” Mother said. The gazpacho would take forever to chill – or at least a couple hours – but garlic croutons were considered spicy too, Violet realized, and maybe that would be enough to convince the third Baudelaire sibling to make their appearance.
“I concur,” Father said, and the four of them each took a crouton. “What do you think?” he asked over all the crunching.
“Buttery,” Klaus said.
“Toasty,” Violet said.
“Garlicky,” Father put in.
“Very garlicky,” Mother said, looking pleased, and she took another crouton, and then a handful of them. “Well done, troupe.” They stood in the kitchen, waiting and waiting, but the only thing that happened was that Violet’s feet started to get a little sore from standing. The warm summer breeze continued, and the sun was still bright in the mid-afternoon sky, and Desafinado was playing now, and Mother was still, despite everyone’s best intentions, very, very pregnant. Violet frowned; Father kissed Mother’s forehead again; even Klaus sighed.
“Maybe the gazpacho will do something,” Mother sighed, and dusted crouton crumbs from her fingers. “It’s early, but how about the two of you set the table anyway, mm?”
Klaus got the napkins, and Violet got the silverware, and they passed under the big archway between the kitchen and the dining room, filled with soft purple and blue shards of sunlight from the pieces of stained glass in the dining room windows.
“I could always try to scare you again,” Violet heard Father offer, back in the kitchen. “I’m still upset that didn’t work.”
“If you tell me you’re going to scare me, how is that going to work, Bertrand?”
“Forget I said anything – look, that’s an awfully interesting frying pan, isn’t it? What if you look at it while I go over to the other side of the kitchen and get a washcloth and on the way back, while you’re very engrossed in the pan, who knows what will happen?”
Mother started laughing. Violet and Klaus followed each other around the table, putting each place setting down a piece at a time. It was a good sized table, Violet thought. Definitely enough room to accommodate the fifth Baudelaire.
“Which end do you think the baby will sit at?” Violet asked. She thought the far end, by Mother, would be the best, so Mother was right there if they needed anything.
“Babies can’t sit up right away,” Klaus said. “It’ll be months before they can sit at the table.”
Violet knew that, but that wasn’t the point of it, either. She thought maybe she should stop waiting out Klaus in particular and just come right out and ask him. She was his older sister, and soon to be the eldest sibling out of three, and she should be able to problem-solve this like she’d problem-solved an unexciting box grater, like she’d been making the list of things to try and help Mother, like she wanted to be able to do for their new sibling. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Klaus said again. He folded the fourth napkin and set it down on the table, a little too hard. He ran his fingers over the bend in the cloth. “Do you think the gazpacho will work?”
“I hope so,” Violet said. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
Klaus shrugged. “I mean – I liked things the way they were,” he said quietly. He adjusted his glasses, then the collar of his shirt, like the way Father fidgeted sometimes. “A baby changes a lot,” he pointed out. “Mother didn’t even read her summer book, this year.”
Things had been a little different this year, Violet realized. But not in a bad way. In a fun way, of getting things ready and helping Mother and Father, and they still spent a lot of time together, all of them. But Violet hadn’t been able to go to the museum with Mother as much as other summers, and Father had spent a lot of time looking out the window with a little crease of worry in his brow, when he thought no one else was watching. They’d all have to spend a lot of time looking after the baby when it finally did arrive. They might not be able to go to the museum at all, and maybe – it struck Violet with a pang – maybe Mother wouldn’t have time to read a book with Klaus next summer, either. Things might change a lot.
“And,” Klaus continued, “what if something goes terribly, terribly wrong? Babies aren’t supposed to be late.” He glanced past Violet and back into the kitchen, and when Violet followed his gaze, she saw the book Klaus had been reading earlier placed on the counter. One of Mother’s pregnancy books that they’d all taken turns reading.
“Oh, Klaus,” Violet said. “I don’t – I was late,” she remembered. “And Mother was okay. And – ” She hesitated. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “We’re all still a family, aren’t we? That doesn’t change just because some other things do.”
“It feels like it,” Klaus said miserably. “I like it when things stay the same.” He wiped the side of his hand under his glasses, over each eye.
Suddenly, Violet had an idea. She reached over and put her hand on Klaus’s shoulder. “I think Brie will really like you, Klaus,” she said, trying to put on her most serious face. The corner of her mouth twitched, just as Klaus met her eyes.
It worked – Klaus started to laugh, just like Mother’s genuine laugh, a loud and bright startled sound. “You think so? Wheely?” he asked.
“Of course they’re gouda,” Violet said, giggling.
“I hear puns!” Mother called. “Bad puns!”
“Excellent job!” Father called after.
The gazpacho was delicious. Mother was still pregnant after dinner – but the gazpacho was delicious, and so were the remaining croutons, after all of them sneaking handfuls while the gazpacho chilled. And Violet and Klaus and Mother and Father sat around the table, all of them suggesting the silliest food names they could come up with, making Mother laugh until there were tears in her eyes.
Father and Violet and Klaus gathered up all the dishes and took them in trips to the kitchen, letting Mother stretch out in her chair. When Violet and Klaus came back for the glasses, Mother grabbed hold of them and pulled them down onto her lap, all of them making a little oomph noise. They were a little too big to really fit comfortably, especially with Mother’s stomach taking up most of the room on her lap, but she held Violet and Klaus so close against her.
“Let me tell you a secret,” Mother whispered, looking at Violet and Klaus. “Don’t tell your father I told you, alright? Look surprised when he tells you. But I want to tell you.” She got a look in her eyes like she’d heard every word Violet and Klaus had said before dinner. Violet thought there wasn’t a thing in the world Mother didn’t hear. “Both of you, sweetest things.”
“What is it?” Klaus asked.
Mother smiled, slow and beautiful. “Sunny,” she said. “That’s what we’re going to name her.”
#asoue#a series of unfortunate events#wicked way exchange#i will fix the dashes..........lllllllater#much like bea with sunny i had a hard time getting this to Exist. i hope it reads well and is. soft
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
How did you pick up that noir writing style vibe for your stuff? It's awesome!
thank you! it's sort of a boring answer i'm afraid and is really more of a general genre thing: i read a lot of it, and i watched a lot of it, and tried to cast a pretty wide net. pulling from the greats in a genre is going to get you far, but doing that and digging through pulps is going to get you further. if something really dazzles me, i take the excerpt and keep it in my ebook notes. if i'm reading something and it's falling flat on its face, i try to pick apart the why. what is it going for? did it succeed? how would i do it? how much of this is 'bad' and how much of it is just my personal tastes weighed against a paragraph that's fine? and so on and so forth.
when i find myself going in circles, i put the genre down and go and read something wildly different. the last time this happened i read moby dick, manhunt, things have gotten worse since we last spoke, a couple of middling-to-bad video game novels, perfume for the thirty-thousandth time.
have you ever read a book (romance novels get this a lot i've noticed) where you think, oh no, the person writing this thinks i'm a mark, a little dot on a marketing graph somewhere, a purchasing demographic? or, say, you're really into sword and sorcery fantasy and you pick up a deconstruction where the author has clearly never read a fantasy book in their lives and is working off what they think fantasy conventions are? i think the best way to avoid that is just by being completely earnest in what you're doing and keeping an open mind. if somebody picks up something you've made, what is it you want to convey? a big swing for a style they may never like, or a cringing, apologetic gesture that nobody will like, not even you?
#text post#this was sort of a screed but hopefully you get what i mean#tldr: commit to the bit#thank you again
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Like a Crow Chasing the Butterfly
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: General
Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga)
Relationship: Trafalgar D. Water Law & Original Female Character(s), Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Original Female Character(s)
Characters: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Bepo (One Piece)
Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Needs A Hug, Plotting Murder, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, In which Law is adopted by a new auntie whether he likes it or not, Background Relationships
Series: Part 2 of To Feather Your Nest
Summary: Eight years since she had escaped Doflamingo and Arry had never felt more alive.
A chance meeting with a boy in a spotted hat reminds her of the loose ends that she had left behind.
Browsing the vendor stalls that lined the street, a young woman with earlobe-length, pink-gold hair wandered down the way. A small girl with strawberry blonde hair up in two springy pigtails bounced along beside her. A small teddy bear hung from her free hand, clenched tightly between chubby fingers. They were dressed to match in a purple shirt and blue overalls.
Overhead, a swarm of seagulls circled, squawking, unintelligible. To anyone that didn’t know, the birds seemed to circle randomly with no greater purpose, but if someone were to look closely, they would see the cyclone of white and black centered over the young woman and her daughter.
To that person, their cries weren’t gibberish, the instinctual sounds of their species. They were short, simple words: “Queen! Protect! Queen!”
The little girl, with large, dark blue eyes giggled as she watched the swirling birds. “Look mama! They’re following us!” briefly letting go of her mother’s hand, she twirled along with them.
Stormy gray eyes crinkled with mirth as Arry watched her daughter mimic the animals. Her small arms flung themselves out. The bear in her tiny hand threatening to fly away.
“Come on, Mirai, we can’t dawdle. We have to get these items for uncle Thatch,” Arry held up a full laundry list of food items. As a member of the Fourth Division Whitebeard Pirates, part of her duties were helping her Commander stock up the kitchen to ensure no one ever went hungry aboard the great Moby Dick.
The little girl stopped twirling as she hopped up and down with excitement. “Will uncle make my favorite?” she asked, hugging her teddy tight.
“Maybe if you ask nicely, he will.”
Giggling, she continued to bounce with excitement, the stuffed bear gripped so tightly, its button eyes were sure to fly off its plush face at any moment. Once again, taking her mother’s hand, Mirai fell into step beside the pink haired woman.
As they continued down the way, stopping at stall after stall, the little girl patiently tagged along, running her bear along every edge she could find, making him do tricks as if he were an acrobat. They visited fruit vendors, vegetable vendors, the ever-necessary butcher and the most coveted of all, the ice cream vendor where Mirai got a special treat for being so well behaved. The ice cream stood almost taller than her head and didn’t last long under the little girl’s excitement.
Finishing her ice cream, Mirai properly disposed of her napkin as she lay eyes upon her next, unsuspecting target. “Look, mama! It’s a bear! He’s walking around in an orange jumper!” She cried, tugging at her mother’s hand.
...Continue reading on Archive of Our Own!
#one piece#marco the phoenix#phoenix marco#trafalgar law#bepo one piece#my writing#fanfiction#one piece fanfiction#op fanfiction
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
genuine question: what are your thoughts on first person pov? just in general, doesn't have to be idol x reader. personally, i think writing a whole book in first person is very tricky and requires some proper talent but when it's just short musings of a character, it can be quite fun. one of my own best fics is written in first person, and in context of the original work i like it but every time i encounter some sort of discourse, i feel embarrassed to have used that method.
anon…. i think you gotta hang out less among fanfiction circles and more w people who read books 😭 if you just step a half a foot away from fanfiction, you’d see that first person pov is a long and celebrated narrative mode.
moby dick, jane eyre, the sherlock holmes novels, etc etc there are so many foundational works of english literature that use first person POV going back hundreds of years. the book thief and the lovely bones are two notable examples of modern lit that use an extracorporeal first person omniscient pov. faulkner’s the sound and the fury features multiple first person narratives that provide different accounts of the same story.
like, you could spend years reading articles and writing books about this. there is a whole world outside of shitty fanfiction. “call me ishmael” “reader, i married him” we have been doing this for hundreds of years !! for english-speaking school children, soooo many of our first forays into creative writing took the form of first-person narratives— just look back to your elementary school writing endeavors. it’s common and well-accepted, and it’s an accessible way for children to begin experimenting with the world of a character rather than just the structure of a plot.
whatever the discourse that makes you embarrassed is, just know that you’re better than them and you don’t have to listen to the writing advice of people who slept through english class and think the curtains were just blue.
#anon#ask#i want to know WHOOOOO is saying this 😭#i didn’t even know this was discourse#like of course it would come from idol self insert fic writers but. c’mon now let’s all read some things other than fanfiction now and then
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dreams and Dreams
I wrote this on a whim. I was thinking about how I rarely hear Sanji talk about the All-Blue anymore, and POOF, suddenly this was made. And I’m bored so I’m sharing it. It’s a short little thing, but still.
————————————————————————
The summer sun beamed on the grassy deck of the Thousand Sunny, coating the Straw-Hat pirates in a peaceful and drowsy warmth. They all sat in a circle, enjoying their chosen beverages and laughing as they told stories—all apart from the young Emperor of the Sea, Monkey D. Luffy, who lay passed out on his swordsman lap. He had eaten too much, as per usual, and was simply resting from food overload.
The awake Straw-Hats were discussing the most random things, from memories to adventures to random dreams they had in the middle of the night. The feeling of joy and relaxation seemed to be radiating from the deck as they chatted with smiles on their faces. But the topic of dreams, no matter how weird it was, brought up a new question from the newest member—The First Son of the Sea Jinbei, a former warlord.
Sanji could see that the fish man was curious about something, and after a few minutes of talking about the weird dream Usopp had about the self-proclaimed god Enel turning into an elephant and rampaging on the Foxy Pirates bots, Sanji decided to speak up. “Hey, Jinbei. You look like you want to ask something.”
Jinbei glanced at the cook in surprise. “Oh, I do.”
“Ask away, it’s not like we’re listening to Usopp’s weird-ass dream.”
“HEY! I woke up in a sweat, alright? It was freaky!” Usopp snapped while Jinbei shifted in his spot.
“Well… I know we all have dreams,” Jinbei said as he took large swig from his booze. “Luffy made sure that his crew is full of people with dreams that they will strive for. He himself has a dream, but we don’t know exactly what that is… but what are yours?”
“Oh, I love this conversation!” Chopper exclaimed happily. “Zoro, you go first!”
“Greatest swordsman.” Zoro stated simply. “I’ll beat Mihawk one day and my name will reach the heavens.”
“I’ll make a map of the world!” Nami exclaimed, her pen coming to a stop. “The whole world. Not one island will be left off, not one land being uncharted. It will be the first, I swear it!”
Usopp crossed his arms and grinned. “I’ll be a brave warrior of the sea, and I’ll make sure I can be trained by Elbaf warriors, you hear me?”
“To cure all the diseases in the world!” Chopper piped up, lowering his glass of milk. Sanji wanted to reach forward and wipe away the milk-mustache on the reindeer’s face, but Zoro beat him to it. “I’ll create a cure for everything!”
“Well, I want to read the Rio Poneglyph,” Robin mused, looking up from her book. “I have since a very young age.”
“This ship.” Franky declared when Robin went silent. “It’s going to go on the best adventures, and it’s going to reach Laugh Tale. This ship right here will be more famous than the Oro Jackson and the Moby Dick, I can promise you that!”
Brook lowered his tea cup and looked thoughtful for a second. “I’ll make it all around the Grand Line and New World. I’ll see everything, at least once, before going to meet Crocus again. I have a meet up with the large whale, Laboon. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”
“And you, Sanji?”
All pairs of eyes turned to the cook, drilling holes into his head.
“Please, his dream is obvious!” Zoro laughed. “It’s wo—”
“To find the All-Blue.” Sanji interrupted.
The crew fell silent for a few seconds. Sanji could see the gears turning in their heads, see them ponder what he had said.
The Mosshead spoke first.
“The what?” Zoro asked with raised eyebrows, scoffing as he took a swig of his booze.
Sanji stared at Zoro with obvious scrutiny, scowling slightly as the swordsman tossed an arm around the back of the chair. “The All-Blue, dipshit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought your dream was being in a brothel. I was sure it changed.”
“It’s not!” Sanji snapped, chucking a plate at the swordsman’s head. God, did everyone think that lowly of him?? He understood why, sure. He loved women, maybe more than he should. But he obviously had his reasons.
“I don’t think I’ve heard about this dream of yours, Sanji.” Brook said with a jolly yohohohoho!
“Me neither,” Franky and Jinbei said in unison.
Anyone would be able to see the sparkle in Sanji’s eyes as he leaned back. “The All-Blue. It’s… it’s an out-there dream. A stretch. No one even knows if it’s real. But if it is—and I know it is!—it’s out here, in the New World.” He gripped the fabric of his pants tightly, a dorky smile rippling on his face. “It’s a place where the four Blue Seas meet. All these marine species get to live together in harmony—fish you would only find in the North and South or East and West, all together. Species that haven’t even been discovered are rumored to be there, hidden away from humanity and holding tastes that man has never had the pleasure of witnessing. It’s a haven, a euphoria for cooks. The water is supposed to be as clear as a diamond, as pure as fire and cleaner than anything you have ever seen. It’s a cooks paradise—it’s my paradise.” He could see it in his head—the rippling water, gentle waves. The crustaceans and invertebrates living together without a care in the world. An untouched ecosystem that he could only dream of. Sanji could feel the scales of the fish under his fingers, smell the salt water and hear the ripples in the water. Oh, how his heart beat at the idea of the All-Blue. How his face broke into the most genuine grin of his life, how he looked so love struck—not even the most beautiful woman could put that smile on the cooks face.
“It’s supposed to be a myth. It’s supposed to be a child’s fantasy, a place found only in imagination.” Sanji’s smile softened. “No one believes in it. They say finding it is a waste of energy and time. Everyone laughed at me—all until our Captain came along and encouraged me.” His hands curled tighter. “The All-Blue is out there. I know it, and I will find it, and I will make the most delicious dishes from that untouched water. And you know who will be the first to taste it?” His audience shook their heads. “Owner Zeff and Luffy. They are the ones who believed in me. They are the ones who encouraged me.” His smile widened once more. “That’s the All-Blue. That’s my dream!”
Zoro scoffed and leaned back. “Sure, whatever.” The swordsman muttered, but even he was smiling the slightest bit from seeing Sanji like this.
Brook laughed while Jinbei leaned forward. “Tell me more about the All-Blue, Sanji-kun.”
The cooks heart soared as he looked around at the Straw-Hat pirates. They all looked so interested, so invested.
They believed in his dream.
And he believed in them.
Sanji laughed and shifted in his spot, trying to get comfortable. They would be here for a while. “So I first heard about it…”
#straw hat sanji#black leg sanji#straw hat pirates#dreams#all blue#vinsmoke sanji#well not vinsmoke#he’ll never be a vinsmoke he made that clear
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Image ID
A page removed from the book Moby Dick and used for blackout poetry. The words are circled in and connected with a thick, gold line. The poem reads: The fate of the immortal; Death is my true substance; Life is but the mistaken shadow of it
/End ID]
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Moby Dick Chapter 110: Poor Queequeg has been taken ill!
How he wasted and wasted away in those few long-lingering days, till there seemed but little left of him but his frame and tattooing. But as all else in him thinned, and his cheek-bones grew sharper, his eyes, nevertheless, seemed growing fuller and fuller; they became of a strange softness of lustre; and mildly but deeply looked out at you there from his sickness, a wondrous testimony to that immortal health in him which could not die, or be weakened. And like circles on the water, which, as they grow fainter, expand; so his eyes seemed rounding and rounding, like the rings of Eternity.
I'm trying, but not in a brain space to really read Moby Dick right now. But everytime Ishmael talks about Queequeg it's... just... he's just. He's just so in love.
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
unepenseepourlaculture-blog
Une pensée pour la culture
kaskuyken
Untitled
freeguestposting
FREE guest posting
northernsiberiawinds
northern siberia winds
silentfcknhill
fire is just spicy air