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aesthetic-bbyg · 7 months

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BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji

LA!sanji x fem!reader

Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)

Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏

ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.

You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.

The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.

“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.

You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.

“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.

“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.

The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.

In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.

“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”

He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.

He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”

You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.

Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.

He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.

“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”

“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”

“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.

“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”

You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.

“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.

“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”

The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.

“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.

“He’s gonna kill you.”

“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”

You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”

THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.

You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.

“We have a VIP menu?”

“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.

You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.

Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”

“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”

“I see it every day, darling.”

You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.

Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.

“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”

Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.

You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”

Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”

His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”

“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”

The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”

“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”

“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.

“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.

Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.

But if he must wait all his life, he will.

sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time

lord pls send help.

#vinsmoke sanji #Sanji #blackleg sanji #Sanji opla #Sanji one piece #Sanji x reader #vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji live action #opla #one piece #one piece live action #one piece show #one piece fics #one piece imagine

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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 8 months

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Tolerate It

Inspired by 'Tolerate It' by Taylor Swift :)

"I know my love should be celebrated... but you tolerate it."

Quite frankly, Y/N isn’t sure how much longer she can take this. It’s the second time this week Harry hasn’t been home for dinner and it’s only Wednesday. Y/N is normally fine looking after baby Elle by herself, she knows Harry has important things to do and people to meet and deals to close its just… lately he’s been different. More withdrawn, constantly at work and seemingly finding less and less time to spend with his wife and 6 month old daughter. That morning he had left in a whirlwind, pressing a quick, barely there kiss to her cheek before promising to be home for dinner at 7.

Y/N swirls what’s left in her wine glass as she glances over at the clock that reads 9:14. He’d be out for a while yet, she knew. Sighing, she puts his plate in the fridge, washing the dishes before getting ready for bed, popping into check on Elle. She smiles softly at the rise and fall of her daughter’s chest as she sleeps, leaning down and kissing her head then moving away from the crib and towards her own bedroom. It’s Y/N and Harry’s shared room but Y/N can’t remember the last time she actually woke up to Harry still in the room. Or the last time she fell asleep with him beside her.

Y/N intends to wait up for her husband but when her eyes flutter closed she can’t seem to stop them. They open after what only feels like minutes later when the bed dips on Harry’s side. She blinks sleepily, watching him slide into bed and prop himself up against the pillows, reading with his head low. She shuffles, catching his attention and when he meets her gaze, she smiles tiredly up at him.

“Hey. Thought you were going to be home for dinner?”

“Things got busy. Ate at the office.” He turns his attention back to the book he’s reading and Y/N’s smile droops.

“You could have called. I waited for you.”

Harry scoffs at her confession, rolling his eyes.

“Y/N I don’t have time to give you a call every time I’m going to be a bit late coming home. Get off my case, it’s fucking annoying.” His voice rises slightly in volume as he gets frustrated, but not loud enough to wake Elle in the next room.

“I’m not trying to be annoying H. I’m just saying that I missed you today and as your wife it would just be nice if you could let me know.” Y/N sighs, rolling over, her back to him as she tries to go back to sleep. Her breath hitches as she feels Harry come closer to her, kissing her shoulder before burying his face in her neck.

“Sorry my love, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just really caught up lately.”

“I know you are.” Y/N tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he sponges kisses on her neck, shoulders and then slowly down her arm.

“Tomorrow. Take Elle to my mum’s and I’ll be home around 5. Let’s make it a date night, just us.” At this, Y/N turns to face him, a small grin on her face.

“Yeah? Just us?”

“Just us bub. Promise I’ll be home in time and I’m all yours.”

Y/N believes him. So, she does what Harry says. Take’s Elle over to Anne’s around midday, the older woman over the moon to spend some extra time with her granddaughter. Around 2, her best friend makes a surprise visit to the house, finding Y/N slaving away in the kitchen.

“Are you cooking for 12?” Lucy laughs as Y/N rushes around putting finishing touches on what seems to be a ten course meal.

“No… just Harry and I. But I’m making all his favourites. I want tonight to be special for us. He’s been so busy with work lately.”

“What are you wearing?” Lucy smirks at Y/N who simply blushes.

“It’s on the bed.” She says referring to the lacy white lingerie set that Harry had bought her for their first anniversary. Lucy wolf whistles, causing Y/N to turn even redder.

“Lucky husband, that Harry of yours. Now hurry up and finish so we can have a glass of wine before he gets here and I have to go.”

Y/N grabs a bottle and the two women sit and chat for a few hours before Y/N realises it’s 10 to 5 and she needs to go and change. She kicks Lucy out as politely as possible before getting ready and waiting for Harry.

The clock ticks over to 5:00pm. Then 5:01pm. Then 5:20pm.

At 5:30pm, she calls. His phone is off.

At 6:00pm, she finishes a second bottle of wine, and then she calls again. His phone is still off.

At 6:17pm, Lucy sends her a link to an article and Y/N feels the sudden urge to throw up. Because the article is about Harry and the headline reads: Trouble in Paradise? Styles and Co CEO Harry Styles seen partying on a yacht with ex Kendall Jenner, just months after celebrating his third wedding anniversary and welcoming daughter Elle Styles.

The photos are incriminating. Kendall’s face in his neck, his hands around her waist. Kendall getting into a cab, leading Harry behind her.

Lucy calls. Y/N doesn’t answer.

At 8:15pm, Y/N picks herself up off the floor, goes upstairs, grabs a bag throws essential things inside for her and Elle and gets her keys.

That’s when the door opens and her husband walks, stumbles, through the front door.

“Sorry I’m late. Something smells good.” Harry’s words have a slight slur to them, she knows he’s been drinking but she can’t bring herself to care. He steps closer and she wrinkles her nose.

“You smell like her.” Y/N comments, willing herself not to cry.

“Who? Kendall?” Harry is suddenly ten times more alert, worry evident on his face.

“Nothing happened Y/N.” “Sure didn’t look like nothing. In fact the photos were… quite something.”

“Love… I don’t- I put her in a cab and she went home. It was supposed to be a quick meeting and then it turned into a yacht event and I know you wanted me home earlier but I-”

“This isn’t about me wanting you home earlier Harry. I wanted this night for us. Because we’re drifting apart and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You’re being dramatic, I’ve just been busy.”

“You’ve been “busy” for 4 months Harry. Are you not in love with me anymore?” Y/N’s voice trembles but she holds his gaze. Harry feels his heart drop into the floor.

“…What?”

“Tell me it’s all in my head. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Y/N calm down. You’re acting insane, of course I love you.”

“Harry, you make me feel annoying when all I want is for you to love me back as much as I love you! You just sit there and you… you just tolerate me. And I don’t deserve that. I sit here in this stupid mansion you bought for us with our daughter who probably doesn’t even know that you’re her father because you’re never around. I just sit here and I wait with Elle. For you to come home to me, for you to tell me you need me as much as I need you. And I don’t think I can do it anymore.” She pushes past him to the garage and he grabs her wrist gently. “Y/N. Baby where are you going?”

“Bit late for the pet names H. Don’t you think?” She scoffs.

“I need space. Come find Elle and I if you think you’re going to be able to show up for us, because I don’t feel the need to explain to our daughter why she doesn’t have a fucking dad.”

Harry steps back, looking at her helplessly as her words cut him deep.

“Bye Harry.”

Read Part II here

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge

#harry styles #hslot #love on tour #harry styles au #harrystyles #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles smut #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles ceo

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claimedcrossbows · 8 months

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Served! Sanji x Fem!reader

Slight anime spoilers/foreshadowing.

This is OPLA Sanji though.

You were laid down in your quarters trying to keep the vomit down after you had been sick the entire night. Your head was killing you and you were simply not ready for whatever chaos was happening downstairs, but you had a kitchen to run, so you slowly got dressed, and slowly made your way downstairs to absolute anarchy.

“Y/n! We’re out of crawfish and it’s tonight's specials!” Your little sister says immediately approaching you.

“How did we run out of crawfish?” You groaned.

“Rasha forgot to order more and the nearest port ship is still a day away.” She explains frantically.

“Substitute it for lobster in the mac and cheese, and 86 the Crawfish Etouffe Balls.” You demanded hoarsely your vocal chords still fried from vomitting all night.

“Y/N are you okay? You look awful.” Your sister says looking at your haggard appearance and your overall sweaty pale face.

“Great, now go do as I told you, and make it quick rumor has it a critic is dining with us tonight!” You say the last part loud enough to attract your team of cooks attention.

“YES CHEF!” A chorus of voices ring out as you nod and all but wobble your way to the fridge for some much needed seltzer water.

Of all the days for one of the most known critics on the grandline to come pay your restaurant a visit it just had to be today when you could barely stand up right.

Fortunately for you you had a great team of chefs under your command as you watched them all hurry about prepping and making numerous dishes that looked about as masterful as could be.

You were by far one of the best restaurants on the grandline, your restaurant resided on a small beach in a lighthouse where many ships sailing by frequented your restaurant when they were in need of a good meal and conversation.

And you were no doubt one of best female chef’s the grand line had ever seen.

At just age 7 you had won your local cooking competition taking home a wonderful gift basket of exotic spices that had eventually lead you to your well known name of The Spice Queen.

You specialized in Cajun styled cooking, but you could cook just about anything in any style, you were well versed in cuisine having read numerous cookbooks throughout your life, you even knew quite a few special recipes to help revitalize sailors who were in need of more than just a flavorful meal.

Many pirates sought you out after large scaled battles that left them in tatters, if anyone asked any of those pirates what saved their lives and healed their wounds, they would name you.

Which is how you got your second name, as The Crock Pot Doc.

Yep, one taste of your special famous soup was said to cure a man on his death bed.

But none of that mattered if you couldn’t pull off a perfect dinner service tonight of all nights. You had to make sure this critic was absolutely blown away and you weren’t about to let a little food poisoning stop you.

So you chugged your seltzer water and began mincing and julienning veggies.

That was until a loud bang echoed throughout the entire lighthouse followed by a bunch of screaming and crying.

You quickly put down your knife and made it to the dining area where you absolutely could not believe your eyes at what had unfolded before you.

“WE NEED THE CROCK POT DOC, BRING THEM,PLEASE HURRY!” A man in a straw hat yellled looking around the room of patrons and chefs who had also exited the kitchen to see what was happening.

You stepped forward trying to process the sight before you, a group of pirates had barged into your restaurant all with desperate faces and who you could only assume was the captain carrying a orange haired woman who looked to be on the brink of death.

“I’m her, what the hell is going on??” You asked trying to wrap your head around this and the current state of your dining room that has been nearly destroyed by their barging in.

The straw hat man hastily made his way toward you carrying the woman with desperate eyes.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and you have to save my friends life.” He said shakily but with a determination you could respect.

You laughed in disbelief, this man trashes your dining room on a special night and expects you to just save his friends life??

“And why would I do that?” You scoff looking at the state of the girl who looked worse than you felt.

“Because I’m the man who will be king of the pirates, and I promise I will pay you whatever you need and more if you save Nami’s life.” He says unwavering.

A few of your cooks scoff and laugh, “King of the pirates? This kid?” One of your cooks laughs.

You frown, “I don’t work for free, especially not when I have a important critic frequenting my restaurant tonight, there’s a doctor village not to far from here maybe a day’s travel at the Drum Kingdom-”

“She doesn’t have a day!” Luffy stresses.

Your frown deepens, your about to protest before a wave of nausea makes you wince. “Look I don’t have time for this I’m sorry but you need to leave-”

“Madam.” A voice behind this so called Captain Luffy rings out and you look past the kid and sees a tall blonde man in a black suit stepping forward, his face tense but gentle as he addressed you. “I understand your busy, but she will die if she doesn’t receive some kind of medical attention and I hear your not only one of the best cooks on these seas, but your cooking even rivals most medicines prescribed by doctors.” He says as he walks up to you.

“And you are?” You ask raising a skeptical brow.

“Sanji, The best cook in all of the east blue and maybe the world Mam’.” He says confidently as he shoots you a wink.

You immediately laugh, “Wow you have a lot of nerve to say that to my face.”

His face drops as he immediately shakes his head, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just-”

“Well you wouldn’t be a good cook if you weren’t cocky, so there must be some talent behind your words.” You say crossing your arms. “Your Sanji, Chef Zeff’s prodigy I assume.” You say watching his eyes widen.

A small smirk crosses his lips, “Ah, so you’ve heard of me madam?” He says flirtatiously.

“Yeah, I heard a flirty handsome chef trained by Chef Zeff himself has been making his name in the culinary world as one of the best chef’s out here.”

“Oh really?” He says his smile widening.

“Yeah, but it looks like they only got the flirty part right.” You smirk back watching his face drop.

“Sanji’s the best cook on the grandline!!” Luffy immediately defends.

“Yet he can’t make a healing dish?” You interject.

Luffy grunts in annoyance, “Look we don’t have time for this Nami’s dying will you help us or not!?” He shouts angrily.

“N-”

“You say a food critics coming tonight right?” Sanji suddenly says.

You turn to him and nod, “Yes and I need to get ready-”

“You look sick, how do you expect to impress a critic and you can barely stand up right?” He asks staring directly into your eyes.

“How the hell do you know i’m sick?” You questioned.

“I know when a lady’s suffering.” He says gently.

You didn’t know how to respond to that so you just let him continue.

“So how about a deal, I help lead your cooks tonight and pull off an exsquisit meal to impress the critic, and you in turn heal my friend?” He says.

“And what makes you think you can make any of my dishes East Blue Boy?” You challenge, honestly intrigued by the cockiness of this man.

“I’m a fast learner mam, just give me a sample of what needs to be cooked and i’ll make it.” He says.

You were about to deny this foolish request until the sounds of numerous peoples stomachs gurgling suddenly caught your attention.

“Uhhhggg, Chef Y/N we don’t feel so good.” One your top chefs say holding their stomachs.

“Neither do I.” Chef Rasha groans.

“Oh no..” Another chef groans running out the room and into the bathroom.

“I feel fine?” Your little sister says looking at you in disbelief as more and more chefs ran out the room in distress as you watched your customers quickly flee out the front door.

You couldn’t believe this..your entire staff had contracted food poisioning.

You look between Luffy and the dying woman and then back at Sanji as your stomach churned even more.

Uhg.

“Fine, but my little sister will be your sous chef, she’s basically the mini version of me so listen to her directly got it?” You say approaching the blonde man who’s flirtatious smile made its way back onto his face.

“Anything you say Madam-’ ”And please stop with the Madam, Call me Chef, Y/N.”

“Chef Y/n, beautiful name, fits a beautiful woman.” He says.

Your stomach churns again as you quickly grab your little sisters chef hat and proceed to heavily vomit directly into it.

“Wow Sanji, your flirting literally made her vomit.” A man says placing a pitiful hand on his shoulder.

“Shut it Usopp!” Sanji hisses. “I’m going to have my friends help me considering your now understaffed, is that okay?” He asks looking at your concerningly handing you a handkerchief from his suits pocket.

“Fine, but don’t let that one” You say pointing to luffy. “Anywhere near the food.” You say getting a strange vibe from the straw hat boy just from the way he was eyeing your customers abandoned plates of food they had left.

“Trust me, I wasn’t.” He admits.

“Fine its a deal.” You say reaching out your clammy shaky hand that he immediately picks up and kisses.

Your face contorts into disgust as you take your hand back, just who did you let in your kitchen??

Hey guys wanted to do a little Sanji One shot I think this will be a two parter but I thought it would be so cool if Sanji met another incredibly talented chef who just so happened to be a woman right before we meet Chopper at the Drum Kingdom arc!!

#sanji vinsmoke #sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #one piece sanji #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece nami

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Old Scars, New Blood 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: Man, I need some sleep.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

As the large house fills with the rabble of strange men and flowing alcohol, you retreat back to your quarters and stare at your dead phone. Still not sign of life from Lloyd but that doesn't worry you in any existential way. He always finds a way to scrape by, it's just that you usually hear from him by now. Even when he leaves you behind, he has a dozen orders for you. Not that time.

You lean against the headboard and mull the walls. Maybe you'll finally leave this life. You should be proud you got this far. You weren't exactly honed in blood like these underhanded mercenaries. You're just an executive assistant who took a chance. A woman and a Craig's List add, what an origin story.

After a while, you find it hard to sit still. You leave your bed in a mess from the turmoil of your nerves. You drag yourself to the door. You must look like you're going through a breakup, at the very lest, a crisis. A grey gap hoodie and black leggings. You shuffle around in your beat up Keds and drift downstairs, concealing yourself in the distraction and cacophony of the full house. Valhalla and his men jeer from the dining room as you slip past, a quick peek inside at the joining of forces.

Rico sits near the head of the table next to the gargantuan blonde with his braided locks and rugged jawline. The host looks less than impressed as his guest guffaws and claps his back roughly. You don't stay and watch, hurrying on as your stomach squeezes hungrily. You find when Lloyd's not around to demand his meals, you tend to forget to feed yourself.

You enter the kitchen and find chaos strewn over the counter tops. Bottles, some half-filled, others empty, littered over the granite. Crumbs and whole chunks of cheese and meat tossed around carelessly, a lingering stench hanging in the air. You assume the staff is hiding until there aren't men mixing alcohol and firearms.

You pull open the fridge and growl to find your neatly stacked containers gone. You keep your own food and Lloyd's precisely curated. You're a planner and meal planning is your greatest pride. While the other men depend on the processed foods dished up by the help, you make sure to feed your boss his preferred organic cuts. The door shuts as you let it go and turn to peruse the kitchen. There's a bag of biscuits with some spilling out. You leave the spilled cookies on the counter and claim the rest.

You stop as you come to face the wine rack. A single bottle remains in the crisscrossed slats of wood. You're not exactly fond of Risling but you've never been very picky. Nor much of a drinker.

You slide the bottle out with a soft clink against the rack and consider the label. You're not expert, would it pair well with shortbread? You compare the rumbled package of cookies and the pristine font on the bottle.

"Another!" The booming voice makes you leap and you spin around, the wine sloshing in the glass and loosening your grip. You face the large man as he bounces into the kitchen and the long neck slips free entirely. You step back with a surprised squeak as the glass smashes around your feet, sending a splash of wine up your leggings.

Valhalla stops short as he finds you standing in the ruin of your surprise. His rosy cheeks pale and his cheeks draw to a more sober expression, a glint still gleaming behind his bright blue irises, "ah, pardon, my lady, I didn't mean to startle you. And look at what I've done," he gestures to your feet. You lift a shoe and he makes a noise, "ah, ah, do not move."

He comes closer as you stand dumbly in the shards. You look down then back at him. "I have shoes on--"

"And you wouldn't want to stain them," he insists as he nears. You shy away but not fast enough. He picks you up easily, like a hero in a ridiculous story, scooping you over the broken glass and carrying you to safe ground. "Forgive me for wasting the wine."

"It's fine," you wiggle in his hold, the bag of cookies wrinkling loudly, "really, I think..." you look down, dizzy as you see the pattern of tile below, "you can put me down, sir. Please, if you don't mind."

"As you wish," he places you gently on your feet, "what an introduction. Valhalla," he holds out his large hand, his palm rough and calloused, fingers thick but lock, "and you, beautiful woman lurking in the shadows?"

Your breath is stolen by the unexpected compliment. You remind yourself that it is only gas. He's like Lloyd, he must be, compliments are only currency. You take his hand and introduce yourself as sternly as you can. Your voice is barely more than a mousy squeak.

"It is you," he lights up as he tilts his head, clinging to your hand.

"Me?" You question.

"Oh, I hope you remember. I suppose I am forgettable. We emailed... how pathetic I must sound," he chuckles at himself.

"No, I remember," you wiggle your hand and look at it, still trapped in his grip.

"Apologies," he lets you go, fingers brushing your palm reluctantly, "I only... I was disappointed when you disappeared."

"I disappeared?" You frown. "You never answered my last message."

"I..." he pauses, "I was in communication with Hansen, he said he preferred to take on the negotiations himself."

"Oh," you nod. Lloyd never mentioned that. "Of course, I'm so... careless. I have so much going on. I... I should've said goodbye. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he pleas, "you've nothing to be sorry for. I should be. I might make it up to you. You like wine, so let us grab a bottle and catch up."

"Catch up," you muse meekly, "you make it sound like we're old friends."

"Aren't we?"

"Emails..." you murmur.

He laughs as he turns and goes to the wine rack, ignoring the puddle of glass and wine by his feet.

"That was the last bottle," you say dully.

"There must be a cellar, I'm certain the best vintages are there," he turns as he pokes his finger into the air, "let us go scavenge."

"Uh, that's nice and all but I think... cookies are just fine for me."

"Cookies?" He comes back to you, eyeing the bag in your hand, "shortbread. My favourite."

"Oh, well, erm, if you want some--"

"Only if you come with them," he meets your gaze and you shy away at his implication.

You open your mouth but no sound comes out.

"I mean, I'd like to eat them with you. Share them," he stammers slightly, another rocky chuckle escapes him, "I've been on the road long, I'm afraid I'm bit delirious."

"It's fine, I wouldn't want to-- you and your men should settle in and maybe tomorrow--"

"Tonight. Right now. I can't wait. I'm not known for it," he seizes your hand, "come, meet my men."

"I... please," he tugs you, moving you with little effort, "I'm only an assistant."

"Bring your cookies," he insists, ignoring your protests.

You can't stop him. Your soles squeak and slide under you as he drags you into the hall and through the wide archway of the dining room. The men at the table are drunk and a few whistle as you pass by, even as female agents sit smattered among the group.

Valhalla brings you to the head of the table and claims the empty chair awaiting him. Before you can react, he lifts you onto his lap, his arm firm against your back.

"Wait-- what are you--" you can barely catch your breath with how fast everything is moving, "I really should-- Lloyd will be back soon and I have to--"

"Forget him. I want to know about you," he bows his head, focusing on the cookie bag as he slips his fingers through the open top. He plucks one out, admiring it before holding it out to you, "please, you first."

You go to take the cookie from him, shifting on his leg, uncomfortable as you hear the snickers from the table. You must look ridiculous. This man is like a storm, he just comes in and blows everything out of sorts. He pulls the cookie away from your reaching fingers, instead hovering it before your mouth. You swallow, too humiliated to look anywhere but him.

"I can--"

He shakes his head and presses the shortbread to your lips, quieting you. You open your mouth and bite into the crumble buttery goodness. You snap your teeth shut and chew stiffly, lowering your eyes as he watches you. He tosses the rest of the biscuit into his mouth and hums.

"Delicious," he remarks as his fingers tickle the back of your arm, "now, we have tonight. Tomorrow we can work, but now, you will tell me everything."

"Lloyd--"

"Not him," he interrupts again, "you," he cups your chin in his hand, "I travelled all this way, won't you humour me just a little?"

You rub your lips together. What can you say? Every time you try to come up with something, it begins 'Lloyd...' Is there even anything interesting about you? Have you lost yourself so completely to your own foolish crush?

"Tell me," Valhalla rests his hand on your shoulder more firmly, "anything. Tell me your favourite cookie. Just speak and I will listen."

You look at him again. Listen? How long have you longed for someone to do just that? To be heard? To be seen? It's almost as if he knows and is heeding that desperate call inside of you.

"The little..." you put your fingers up to show the size you have in mind, "jam-filled ones," your voice grows less wobbly as you speak, "with the bit of custard."

"Ah, those are a delight," he proclaims, "my brother is overly fond of those. I caught him sneaking some at the family holiday last year-- anyhow, he is another matter. I see it, you are sweet, you like sweet things." He frames your face with his hand, "and you have a sweet voice, tell me more.”

"I..." you begin and push your shoulders into a shrug. You take out a cookie, needing to do something with your hands, "I'm not that interesting."

You nibble on the cookie as he laughs again. Not mean or judgmental like Lloyd, just fun. You focus on chewing, wilting away as you feel him watching you.

"I'm interested," he intones, his timbre blowing through you.

You don't know what to say. There are no words. It's like you're the centre of the world in that moment, or at the least, of his. A man you hardly know, a man you only ever encountered in text.

Or maybe you're all wrong. Maybe you're misinterpreting every word he says. Just like you did with Lloyd. Searching for any sliver of longing.

"In fact," he leans back, rubbing your back casually, "you're the only interesting thing I've found in this place."

❤️‍🩹

The night sweeps you up like a whirlwind. You don't quite remember it ending, waking up in bed with remnants of the evening dancing in your mind. Valhalla's voice nips at you, sending spirals over your flesh, zapping every nerve as it echoes in your ears.

You almost feel guilty that he's your first thought. How he never looked away, never spoke to anyone else, only you. His entire focus was yours.

And yours was his. You listened to his stories, mentions of his family, though his reputation never suggested sentiment. His tales of firefights made comical by his retelling. The way he described his homeland like some mystical paradise. He filled the void left by your own boring life.

You stretch and roll over, sitting up as something dangles down your chest. You look down. Still inhe same hoodie you wore all night was a charm hanging between the strings. You take it between your fingers and examine the medallion, a bullet lodges into it, the burn of gunpowder seared around it. Strange.

A waft of amber and citrus clings to the sweater. You dare to take a whiff before you stand. It smells like him.

You peel off your sweater reluctantly and hang it, opting to skip the hamper. You strip your leggings and your undershirt and pick a fresh outfit. Something more appropriate.

You force yourself into the shower and come out feeling awake. You pull on each piece; a pair of stiff slacks and a striped blouse, paired with a gray blazer. Your usual dull attire.

You sit and slide into a pair of leather flats. The mornings aren't usually hard. Something is different. Something has changed.

You head downstairs and find several staff working at tidying the previous night's ribaldry. You enter the kitchen and set the keurig to brew a cup as bodies scurry around you. Everyone has their place here; you, Rico, and Lloyd.

But not Valhalla.

At the very thought of him, a blaring horn takes over. Your ears throb and you forget your mug as you race to the front door. There's a man passed out against the wall in his own puke. Wonderful.

You pull open the left door as the gate opens and tires bounce over the paved drive. Lloyd is behind the wheel to your surprise, laying into the horn as he skids to a halt. Grumbling comes from behind you as Rico drags his feet and peers out over your head.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

The alcohol lingers in his breath. You step outside to escape his stench. Lloyd swings open the door and hops out, smiling at the sky as he presents himself as some great hero returned home.

“Morning, fuckers!” He bellows.

Silence, only an odd rhythm. You realise as a figure jogs around the east wing that it's footfalls. You turn to look as Rico and Lloyd do the same. It's him, Valhalla, running towards you.

He smiles, unaffected by his brisk pace as he nears, a smile on his face as he waves. He slows and you get a clear sight of his shirtless torso. He wears only running shoes and a pair of riskily short shorts.

There's a sheen of sweat over his skin but he hardly seems spent. His veins bulge beneath his skin and his muscles are thick but toned. His chest is broad and trimmed in golden hair, every part him immense and statuesque.

You almost let out the ‘wow’ as it creeps up your throat.

“Who the fuck is this ken doll?” Lloyd asks as he points to Valhalla.

“Ah, you must be Hansen,” Valhalla ignores his brusque question and holds put his hand.

“Who's asking?” Lloyd rests his hand on his holster.

Valhalla smiles and gives his name, unfaltering as he keeps his hand put. Lloyd doesn't shake it as he scowls. He looks the larger man up and down.

“You're early.”

“Or you're late,” Valhalla challenges and turns, clapping his hand on Lloyd's shoulder as it goes unshaken, “I thought you'd be bigger.”

Lloyd tilts his head, a grimace twisting his features, “huh?”

“I must day, it's a nice property,” Valhalla continues, gesturing to the house. He smirks and gives you a wink, “very welcoming.” He grips Lloyd's shoulder and pulls him closer, “I could get you somewhere even bigger. How about that?”

Lloyd squints at Valhalla, head craned awkwardly, “yeah?”

Valhalla smiles, “let's talk.”

#lloyd hansen #thor #dark lloyd hansen #dark thor #dark!lloyd hansen #dark!thor #thor x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #mcu #marvel #avengers #fic #au #series #multifandom #dark fic #dark!fic

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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AFS: Deleted Scene

a/n: I'm testing a new thing here. There are a few scenes that I wanted to include in the story but there wasn't a good spot to fit it in and keep my plotlines at a good pace. SO, I will be posting the occasional deleted scene! They'll typically be short little drabbles that I post sporadically and I'll always list a number to kind of tell you where it sits in the 'AFS' timeline lol

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluffy fluff

Word Count: 1,101

Summary: Grogu is an artist and he does not restrict himself to a single medium. Inspired by this post/art.

#4.5: HE IS A QUICK ONE

You hummed a song under your breath while cleaning the kitchen. Mando had told you time and time again that house work wasn’t necessarily part of your job description. Though you didn’t think was accurate. You didn’t know a lot about the responsibilities of a nanny, but if you were a betting woman you’d put credits on housework falling under the umbrella. So, despite him telling you to leave it be, you didn’t. Even if it wasn’t the job of the nanny to clean the house, you lived here as well which meant it was in part your responsibility as a roommate, at the very least. Mando could argue otherwise all he wanted. It’s not like he could stop you while he worked.

While Grogu napped, you took the opportunity to clean what you could.

The sound of a quiet giggle made you pause. You rinsed the soap off your hands, leaving the few dishes you had left to clean in the sink, and used the kitchen towel you rested on your shoulder to dry your hands. Another giggle drifted from the hall. Grogu must have woken up from his nap. You chuckled to yourself and tossed the towel aside to go find him. Usually the boy called out for you when he woke up.

Down the hall, you spotted Grogu and it took you a second to recognize what the boy was keeping himself busy with. He stood crayon in hand as he worked on his masterpiece⏤ the masterpiece he was drawing on the wall.

“Grogu!” You cried, startled.

Grogu simply turned to look at you with his little toothy grin. “See!”

He must have woken from his nap a good while ago because the kid had made quite the progress. The entire wall was decorated in his scribbled drawings in various colors. You spotted multiple pictures of his father and him. You recognized the other colored Mandalorian that filled many of his pictures, with the dark haired person beside him, and a few other familiar faces. Peli. Cara. Karga. Your eyes landed on a scribbled drawing of what looked like you with Grogu in your arms. It was honestly the cutest most precious thing in the world and your heart would be overflowing with love if it wasn’t for the location of the art.

“Oh, Grogu, why?” You breathed.

“Good?” He asked.

You gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, you drew it all so good, buddy, but…the wall…”

Grogu’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Ih.” He motioned for you to follow him with one hand and you trailed after him into Mando’s bedroom. Grogu pointed to the wall where you had taped a few of his art pieces. “See!”

“Right. But that’s paper that I…” You winced. You held your arms out to scoop the little artist up. He looked immensely proud of himself and you hated the idea of scolding him. “We can’t draw on the walls anymore though, alright?” If Grogu understood or agreed he made no motion to show it. You sighed and tickled the boy’s belly, mumbling under your breath. “I wonder how attached your dad is to his walls.”

Mando’s voice called out from the foyer and you grimaced. The hallway was still decorated in crayon. You had tried to wipe some of it away, but the moment you got near it Grogu whined at you to stop. Apparently he wanted his father to admire the work. You hurried to meet Mando in the foyer before he could get any further.

“Hi there.” You held your hands out to stop him.

“Hey.” He greeted curiously.

You forced a grin that you prayed didn’t look sheepish. “So, how was work?”

“Good…” Mando paused. “How was your day?”

“Uh, interesting.” You scrunched your nose. “We may have had a little…incident.” Mando stiffened and you quickly shook your head and hands at him. “No, no. Grogu is fine. He’s more than fine. Grogu is very proud of himself.”

“Oh.” Mando replied.

“Buir, k’olar! K’olar!” Grogu bounced behind you and waved for him to follow. You motioned to the child with your arms and Mando gave you one last confused tilt of his head before listening to Grogu’s pleads. You walked behind him nervously. When the three of you entered the hall, the mischievous artist pointed to the wall covered in crayon. “See!”

Mando stayed stock still for a second and you blurted a panicked apology, “I am so sorry, Mando. I thought he was napping and I was washing dishes and I heard his little, evil giggle and when I found him he was drawing on the wall⏤ I tried to clean it up but he wouldn't let me⏤”

Your words were interrupted with the sound of a full bellied laugh. Mando was laughing loudly and freely. There had been moments of chuckles and breathy laughs, but this was the first time you had seen him so carefree in front of you. A small smile curled onto your features in admiration. Mando knelt down to hold out his arms so Grogu could jump into them.

“Good?” Grogu asked.

“Very nice, ad’ika.” Mando praised him. “I’ll send a picture to Boba and Fennec. I think they’d really love to see it.” You crossed your arms and watched in amusement as the boy pointed at each piece of the picture to babble to him an explanation. Mando nodded and hummed along⏤ paying full attention. When Grogu had reached the end, Mando ruffled the top of his head. “Alright, womp rat, I saw your toys in the living room still. Why don’t you go clean up?”

Grogu chirped an acknowledgement and waddled away. Mando turned to face you and you shook your head. “I hung some of his pictures up on your bedroom wall and I guess he decided to cut out the middleman and get right to it.”

Mando chuckled. “It’s alright. Of all the messes I expect him to get into this is fairly mild.”

“I am sorry about your wall though. I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

“It’s just a wall.” Mando shrugged. “A boring one too. At least now I don’t have to bother with decorations. Cara always complained my house was too plain.” You laughed lightly. “Besides, you should see some of the things he’s gotten away with while I was actively watching him.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased. “He is a quick one.”

“You have no idea.” Mando sighed. “Over dinner, remind me to tell you about the Frog Lady’s eggs.”

“The what lady’s what?”

mando'a translations

Buir: Parent (father) /// Ad'ika: little one /// K'olar: Come here

tag list:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #a fresh start #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic #fluff #fluffy fluff #grogu is a little adorable shit #precious child #must be protected #domestic bliss!din djarin

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luv-4-aria · 3 months

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Lovely Wife ...

husband!rick grimes x fem!wife!southern!reader [ you will be called name. ]

warnings; none

A/N; idk if this was good or not.

not edited !

"Alrighty then darlin', ill see you after yer shift..be safe rick we don't know these folks well." name gently massaged Ricks tense shoulders, a adoring look on the taller mans face as he watched at the woman he loves. “Me? Not safe? Seen when honey?” Rick slithered his arms around names waist, tugging her closer to his chest. “Oh hush yer' mouth Mister tuff guy, I reckon you get going before michoone pitches a hissy fit.” name smoothly came from Ricks embrace and around the corner of the marble counter, smirking playfully at the blue eyed man. “Quick, gimmie’ sum sugar before ye’ go. Can’t have you out there all dere’ all tense bundled up like a chickens hen now can I?” quickly placing down the box of eggs and coming back around the corner, name quickly grabbed Ricks narrowed cheeks and pulled him in for a quick kiss, a few red stained lip marks scattering over his face. “Tell Chone’ I said hello, if ye’ look in that bag I packed sum’ more collard greens n’ a little bit of Mac.” name waltzed over to the sinks counter, swiftly picking up the brown paper bag heavy and full of food. “Thank you name, I don't know what I would do without you. If I could stay with you for the rest of my day i would..” Rick watched as name grabbed a white casserole dish from their pristine white cabinets , pink and yellow florals decorated the sides of the dish. "Hold yer' horses ranger, how bout' ye' get ya' stinkin self out onto the road for ya' come up with sum' more stupid n' cheesy." Rick let out a low chuckle before rounding the corner and tugging the girl into his chest, he softly kissed name on the forehead and lips once again, leaving a small smile on names face. "Ew, can you guys not do that here?" A voice came from the stairs, there stood Carl in his plaid pajamas with Judith in her little princess onesie blabbering nonsense as she drooled on her brother. "Hush boy, you best go get ready for' I come up there and dress you myself." names words made a noticeable impact on Carl as the young boy rushed up the stairs with a hurried expression on his face. Both Rick and name busted out laughing, in that moment Rick knew he had gotten loving and lovely wife...

#the walking dead #fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #twd imagine #twd rick #rick grimes #rickgrimes x reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #mini imagine #oneshot #one #shot

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in-my-loki-feels · 3 months

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Indianapolis Bones and the Very Annoyed God of Mischief

In this post I proposed the idea of a President Loki + Mobius variant based on Owen's Dr. Indianapolis Bones SNL skit, and then I couldn't stop thinking about it so here's a bit of flash fiction based on that. Enjoy!

ETA: There's now a 4+1 expanded version of this on AO3!

“It’s such an honor to have you here, sir.”

Since Loki had walked in, the restaurant's manager had been practically falling over himself with praise. He'd nearly wept when Loki handed out "Vote Loki" pins for the staff to wear. The Midgardians were finally treating him as he deserved, even if he wasn't their king...yet.

A woman ran up to whisper something in the manager's ear and he brightened.

“Your table is ready, sir. Right this way.”

Loki followed the man deeper into the restaurant, smirking as every head in the place turned to watch him and his collection of black-suited bodyguards. He didn’t need their protection but it amused him to think of humans throwing themselves at other humans at his behest.

Loki caught the eye of one elegantly dressed woman and winked, causing her to flush prettily. Her date seemed entirely unamused at the “come hither” look she was sending Loki’s way. The only people who didn’t turn to watch Loki’s entrance were a group seated at a long table at the center of the room. They appeared to be in a heated discussion.

The manager paused by a small table next a window with what looked like a decent view of the river, even if Loki found Midgard’s scenery somewhat lacking compared to Asgard. Before Loki could sit, there was a clatter of dishware and both he and the restaurant's manager turned to see the source.

An extremely nervous-looking waiter had dropped the stack of dishes they were collecting onto a nearby table. Their attention was focused on a different waiter, or at least someone dressed as such, who stood at the far end of the long table, holding a gun. Loki raised an eyebrow. This was an interesting development.

The waiter with the gun was pointing it at an unassuming man seated at the end of the table. The man’s blonde hair was on the long side and, paired with his beard, gave him an unkempt look in Loki’s opinion. The horrible beige plaid blazer he wore wasn’t helping.

Loki blinked and suddenly everyone else at the table had a gun out, all pointed at the man, who only smiled in response. Everyone in the dining room seemed to be holding their breath as the man took a brown fedora out from under the table and settled it on his head.

"Now, now, let's not be too hasty." His voice had a pleasant drawl to it. He held his hands up as he stood slowly.

“Just give us the map!” snapped one of the women at the table.

“Sorry, can't do that,” the man replied and winked. He was either incredibly brave or very stupid given the circumstances.

When the man slowly lowered his hand to his hip, Loki felt a brief spike of excitement. Was he about to witness a bloodbath? Unexpectedly, the man freed a long whip. With two quick cracks, he took out the light on the table and the chandelier overhead, bringing it crashing down and plunging the room into darkness.

At least two of the guns went off after that, which made Loki roll his eyes. For how frail they were, Midgardians were always so reckless with their weapons.

“Sir! Get down!” That was one of his men. They knew better than to grab him and simply lunged past, likely intending to tackle and disarm the gun wielders. Loki heard the sound of scuffling and was about to fling up a light—waiting in the dark was tedious—when someone did bump into him.

“You look important and I'd hate for you to get hurt, so probably best to come along with me.” The easy drawl was recognizable, though the man with the whip sounded slightly winded now. Then he wrapped an arm around Loki's waist and hurried them both away from the sounds of fighting.

Loki was so stunned at the audacity of being manhandled, he was outside before he fully registered what had happened. He tried to shove the man off but he’d already stepped away. Inexplicably, the man now wore a leather jacket instead of the plaid blazer. Now able to get a better look at the man, Loki was dismayed to find the bright blue eyes and lopsided smile were annoyingly attractive.

“Hey, are those a family heirloom?” the man asked, gesturing to Loki’s golden horns. “They look pretty good for an antique.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki snapped. “Do you have any idea who I am?!”

“Of course! How could I forget with the horns and all.” The man waved again and a long silence followed his words. Then a huge grin split his face. “Actually, I don't, but hopefully you won’t hold it against me. I’m Indy by the way, short for Indianapolis. My parents were kind of kooky.”

Before Loki had a chance to inform this ridiculous Midgardian that he didn't care what his name was, or what his parents were like, the back door of the restaurant slammed open.

“There he is!”

It was the diners who’d pulled guns in the restaurant.

“Oops, gotta go. See you around, friend!” The man—Indy, apparently—clapped a hand to his hat to keep it from flying off and ran into the night. Gunshots rang out in response and the bullets whizzed by Loki, close enough to further annoy him. He gestured at the gaggle of people spilling out of the restaurant and, with a flash of green light, they vanished. Seconds later, Loki's bodyguards came rushing out.

Loki wasn't impressed by their delay in finding him, but he had something more important to address.

He pointed at the fleeing man in the fedora. “Find that man—Indianapolis…something—and bring him to me.”

The people who’d been chasing Indy might have been able to answer his questions, but Loki had sent them elsewhere without giving much thought as to where. As half of the bodyguards took off in pursuit, Loki stalked back inside, followed by the rest. He would get his answers one way or another.

#president loki #mobius m mobius #lokius #lokius au #dr indianapolis bones #don't think too hard about this it was only meant to be fun #i had A Scene™️ in my head and i just had to get it out #maaaaybe i could expand on this someday?#but for now back to the OTHER president loki fic I was writing (lol)#i'd love to see anyone else's ideas for this au!#mobius #wanderingflame fic

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mari-writes · 8 months

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🦉❤️

Keiji is so nervous, visiting the Bokuto family for the first time as Koutarou’s boyfriend.

He’s met them before, of course. In high school he’d follow Koutarou home under the guise of helping him study—which technically he did do, but they’d usually end up just hanging out. And Keiji almost always stayed for dinner.

So Koutarou’s parents know him well. He knows they’re fond of him. And apparently the Bokuto sisters absolutely adore him, if what Koutarou relays to him is true.

And Keiji likes them, too. A lot. They are perhaps the kindest and most welcoming people he’s ever met. Never has he known a family so eager to embrace each other and others.

Still, he’s on edge. He wonders how it will feel, walking through that familiar front door, now as Koutarou’s partner. Significant other. boyfriend. Will he act weird? Will they treat him differently?

He and Koutarou arrive at the house on an otherwise normal Saturday evening. They enter the genkan, kick off their shoes, slip out of their jackets. Keiji can hear laughing and shouting, music and the clanging of pots of pans in the distance.

Koutarou takes his hand and leads him through the large house to the kitchen. “We’re here!” He announces, loudly so as to be heard over the cacophony. (Keiji had learned, on his first visit, that Koutarou’s boisterous nature was in part due to being the baby of a very loud, lively family.)

“Koutarou!”

“Get over here and help me with dinner, young man!”

“Ah, Keiji-kun! Welcome!”

“Wait, Kou, pour your boyfriend a drink first!”

Keiji tumbles headfirst into the madness. He’s torn from Koutarou, and suddenly, four sets of hands are on him: hugging, patting him on the back, ruffling his hair.

“Keiji-kun, get down here, love.” Strong fingers grip his forearms and pull. He obliges, bending so that Koutarou’s mother can plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Good evening, Bokuto-san.”

“Oh no, we can’t have that.” She tuts, reaching to grab the sides of his face. “Not anymore. You must call me Amane now.”

Keiji blinks. “Oh. I mean, I shouldn’t …”

“I insist.” Amane gives him a serious look. The woman’s eyes, so similar to Koutarou’s, are soft yet firm. “After all, you’re part of this family now.”

She smiles warmly before heading back to prepare dinner. Keiji watches her go, reeling at the implications of her behest.

The Bokutos accept him. They want him here. Not only as Koutarou’s teammate, or school friend. But as a part of their unit.

Keiji feels like he might cry.

“Here ya go, babe!” Koutarou passes him a glass of sake, winking cheekily and then hurrying over to help his mother.

For a few moments Keiji just observes. Koutarou’s father is washing and wiping dishes as his wife and son cook. The eldest sibling is setting the table as her sister, holding a tall can of Asahi in one hand, cycles through different playlists on her phone.

Everything is fine, he realizes. And why wouldn’t it be?

“Keiji! Come over here and help me choose tonight’s soundtrack!”

Keiji nods, wandering over as a strange, warm feeling washes over him.

He had no reason to worry. Of course he didn’t.

It all feels so familiar, yet so new at the same time. As if his current place in this beautiful family was inevitable. Destined.

How lucky he is, to have found his way here.

I hc that Keiji’s parents, though well-meaning, aren’t very supportive or openly affectionate. So being accepted into such a big, warm family means the world to him. Thanks for reading! Please comment/share if you enjoyed! 🙏❤️

#bokuaka #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #bokuto x akaashi #my writing #ficlet #drabble #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction

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krowbby · 9 months

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Favorite Monstrous Regiment footnote Poll

Listing the footnotes (some with added context) first and then the poll because they won't all fit in the character limit.

It cost one penny to cross, or one hundred gold pieces if you had a billygoat.* *Trolls might not be quick thinkers but they didn't forget in a hurry either.

But had it been more capable of coherent thought, and knew something about how birds of prey catch pigeons,* it may have wondered why it was being gripped so... kindly. *And allowing for the fact that all pigeons who know how birds of prey catch pigeons are dead, and therefore capable of slightly less thought than a living pigeon.

*A woman always has half an onion left over, no matter what the size of the onion, the dish, or the woman.

Igor had to be a boy, with those stitches around the head, and that face that could only be called homely.* *And even then it was the kind of home that had a burned out vehicle on the lawn.

"Of course, we all know there is some atrocious behavior in times of war, but it is not the sort of thing we would expect of a royal prince."* *Lieutenant Blouse read only the more technical history books.

There are three things a soldier wants to do when there's a respite on the road. One involves lighting a cigarette, one involves lighting a fire, and the other one involves no flames at all but does, generally, require a tree.* *Technically, a tree is not required, but seems to be insisted upon for reasons of style.

Maladict dropped his crossbow, which fired straight up into the air,* and sat down with his head in his hands. *And failed to hit anything, especially a duck. This is so unusual in situations like this that it must be reported under new humor regulations. If it had hit a duck, which quacked and then landed on somebody's head, this would, of course, have been very droll and would certainly have been reported. Instead, the arrow drifted in the breeze a little on the way and landed in an oak tree some thirty feet away, where it missed a squirrel.

Birds sang. The effect was peaceful, if you didn't know about birdsong, but Polly could recognize the alarm calls close by and the territorial threats far off and, everywhere, the preoccupation with sex. That took the edge off the pleasure.* *It's hard to be an ornithologist and walk around a wood when all around you the world is shouting: "Bugger off, this is my bush! Aargh, the nest thief! Have sex with me, I can make my chest big and red!"

"And? I used to love pink when I was about seven."* *It is an established fact that, despite everything society can do, girls of seven are magnetically attracted to the color pink.

There was a thing with a funnel and a handle and some mysterious screws.* *Every long-established kitchen has one of these, and no one ever remembers why. It is generally for something that no one does anymore and, even when it was done, wasn't done with any real enthusiasm, such as celery basting, walnut shredding, or, in the worst case, edible dormouse stuffing.

#discworld #terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #monstrous regiment #polly perks #maladict #polls #long post #discworld quotes

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dorkphoenyx · 2 years

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#vintage cookbooks #recipes #1955 #quick dishes for the woman in a hurry #supermarket #i always cook in a wide-brimmed hat

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sin-djarin · 6 months

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Becca's Brunch

Happy Sunday and the seasonal treats are in. Cranberry stuff, cinnamon things, pumpkin spiced donuts - I have it all (not really but we're pretending for a hot second, okay?). But there's probably still some Halloween bits leftover if you look hard enough. And coffee or whatever way you consume your caffeine, grab it, sit for a minute and let us enjoy.

Or, what I've gotten round to reading this week to make more room on the TBR shelf.

First, a quick reminder that what I may like, you may not and that's okay! Please heed individual warnings on fics. Leave an author a comment and reblog if you enjoy their work!

Joel Miller:

first light by @5oh5

oct 29 x stormy days by @trulybetty

Javier Pena:

Paranoid Heart by @goodwithcheese (new chapter)

Unworthy by @morallyinept

anytime by @undercoverpena

Dieter Bravo:

Bite Me by @chronically-ghosted

Working Title by @rhoorl (new chapter)

Ezra:

embers by @sp00kymulderr

Max Phillips:

La Mordida by @imalrightllama

Marcus Pike:

Headshots by @secretelephanttattoo

Or, other bits and pieces that made me smile this week.

Analysis of Tim Rockford's eyesight by @gemmahale

little cute things to remember by @undercoverpena

This moodboard but also all the other beautiful ones @wildemaven has been creating.

Or, what I managed to dish up this week.

Fic:

steep is the mountain Tim Rockford x f!reader

"art" (in quotation marks because these were a hurried job)

Bravo Bumper Stickers

Or, what if, by some miracle, we got two characters in the same room?

See below for Joel being totally fucking unimpressed at Marcus's forwardness.

Sleeves? No, not on this menu. You're safe.

Was this some sort of excuse to post a Rockford-esque image? No, and you can't prove anything.

Well. Good news and bad news.

Bad news. I am very tired. Know how I know? I work with a very sweet woman who asked me if I was tired and that was enough. Also, I've been asleep before 11pm many nights this week and still woke up exhausted. (Sorry @for-a-longlongtime for falling asleep mid conversation!) Corporate chaos ensued and my ADHD brain is teetering on burnout and I like to catch it before that actually happens.

Good news! I have a few days off and I'm going on a little surprise staycation. This is technically our first holiday since pre covid times. I'm excited but as a result, the kitchen will be closed for brunch next week. There is stuff in the queue, but I am hoping to stay off my phone/laptop for a while. Now having said that, I do hope to clear up a little space on my tbr shelf because damn, you're all so talented and your words and imaginations bring me so much joy. Please drop a tag if you think there's something I should read, and I'll be around for the rest of the day anyways in case ya need me.

Now, a very apt OST:

Friends, if you've made it this far, je t'adore. I wish you a week of creativity, rest, as much caffeine or caffeine free tea as your heart desires. Drink water, be safe and be careful. Be kind to yourselves and to one another. Be mindful of your energy and what you put it into, especially as the nights get longer this time of year.

I'll see ya on the other side and if I'm not back avenge my death. I'm kidding, don't do this. It's a Simpsons quote. From Homer vs The Eighteenth Amendment. You know the one? You're out there somewhere, beer baron...

Hopefully I return with Frankie's level of competency and Javi G levels of enthusiasm.

Clearly, I need coffee and so...

Thanks for your patience and the smiles that you bring me week after week.

Love, your emo neighbour,

Becca 🤍

Disclaimer: Joel's expression is not an accurate presentation of mine today, I promise I'm quite happy!

#joel miller #javier pena #marcus pike #frankie morales #max phillips #ezra prospect #dieter bravo #joel miller x reader #javier pena x reader #marcus pike x reader #max philips x reader #ezra prospect x you #dieter bravo x reader #fic rec #becca's brunch #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #Spotify

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luvsellie · 2 years

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BATHROOM INTRUDER [e. williams]

pairing ellie x fem!reader

summary in which your girlfriend decides to *accidentally* scare you

wc 0.7k

note this is pure fluff :3

“well, what if we just watched a movie tonight?” ellie suggested before eating a spoonful of the soup that sat in front of her. she wiped the corner of her mouth with a thumb as she added, “just an idea.”

tilting your head slightly, you smiled. “hmm. that does sound nice. we haven’t had a movie night in a while.”

your girlfriend nodded. “i know. i’m pretty sure our last one was, like, a year ago or some- what are you doing?”

“eating,” you stated, shoving a cracker you had swiped from the side of her bowl into your mouth. “obviously.”

ellie frowned, pulling her dish closer. “get your own soup.”

you scoffed and reached for another cracker, only to be met with a playful kick to your shin. your hand fisted on the table as you sent a kick of your own her way. “hey! i share my meals with you all the time, give me some!”

“nuh-uh,” ellie enunciated, making a move to take the last two crackers and drop them in her half-filled bowl. you watched with a blank face as they soaked up broth and turned soggy.

“you’re such a dick,” you mumbled, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“only for you.” she winked and continued to shovel food into her mouth, the corners of her lips tugged upwards.

shaking your head with amusement and disbelief, you stood from the table. “well, then enjoy your soup. i’m gonna head back and shower really quick. i feel gross from working outside all day.”

“alright, i’ll see you at the house,” ellie said, cocking her head to the side as you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before heading for the diner’s front entrance.

the warm water was extremely soothing, immediately causing you to sigh as you stepped underneath the showerhead. rubbing your wet hands over your arms, you began the process of trying to rid your skin of the dirt and sweat that had built up from a day’s work in jackson.

as you began to lather shampoo into your hair, a soft thump came from the other side of the shower curtain. stilling with bubbles piled on your head, you listened a little harder, failing to make out the source of the noise. when nothing else followed, you simply returned to rinsing out the soap from your hair. but, as you wiped water from your eyes, shuffling came from nearby.

what the fuck? you thought to yourself, reaching for a bottle on the caddy to your right. there was no guarantee it would do any real harm, but it felt better to have something in your hand, especially when the bathroom door opened and shut.

you had the brief idea it might be ellie, but she normally gave you a heads up when she decided to come into the bathroom while you showered.

letting the water run down your back, you widened your stance a little, straining your hearing for anything that might give away if there was, in fact, someone else in the bathroom. soon enough, the shower curtain was pulled back just enough for you to send the shampoo bottle flying as you flinched.

“ow- what the fuck?!” ellie cried as she let go of the drape.

you immediately poked your head through the curtain. “ellie?! what the hell, man?! why didn’t you say something!”

standing there in nothing but boxers and a sports bra, the auburn-haired woman rubbed at her hairline. “i thought you knew it was me! who else would be in our house?”

“oh, i don’t know, someone who had bad intentions?!” you shot back, the water now hitting the back of your thighs. “you scared the shit outta me. don’t do it again.”

ellie watched as you disappeared behind the curtain again. she leaned down to grab the bottle that had struck her in the head. “yep, i’ll try not to. now, good lord, can i take a shower too before we watch, what, jurassic park for the fucking fourteenth time this month?”

“yeah, yeah,” you said over the roaring water. “just hurry up and get in.”

huffing out a short laugh, ellie stripped before stepping into the tub behind you, not missing the moment to eye-fuck you. her brows were raised when her gaze finally lifted to your eyes.

“are you done ogling me?” you asked with an amused look, now washing out conditioner from your hair.

“almost,” ellie muttered, making to grab your hips and pull your bare body against hers. the water sprayed against your back and nape, some stray droplets finding ellie’s skin as she kissed you roughly.

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a-crumb-of-whump · 11 months

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A New Beginning #18: Family

Masterlist | AO3

Content: Break a dish trope (but he doesn't break anything), multiple caretakers, vampire whumpee, PTSD/trauma, recovery.

Carlos knew he’d made a big mistake the moment he saw the mess he’d made on the kitchen floor. All he wanted was to make something nice for Adam’s sisters when they arrived, and now there was cake mixture all over the tiles and on his clothing. The clothing that wasn’t even his to begin with.

Even as Ryker came hurrying down the hallway to see what had made all the noise, Carlos simply stood there with his mouth agape and tears already welling in his shock-filled eyes. How could he have been so stupid? All this mess, just because he couldn’t walk on his own two feet without tripping.

“Carlos?” the human called to him as he maneuvered his way around the mess. He reached out a hand the moment he was close enough and used it to bring Carlos back to reality with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. “Hey, what happened? Are you hurt?”

It took a moment for Carlos to fully register that someone had spoken to him. When he finally did, nothing but a strained noise would come out. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight before him, so horrified by what he’d done.

“Hey, It’s all good, man. You’re okay. No one’s upset with you.”

“...but I’m upset with me,” the vampire eventually hiccuped. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned to hide his face against the human’s shoulder with a muffled sniffle, face burning with shame as he thought about how much effort it was going to take just to clean everything. How could he have been so silly?

“‘m so sorry.”

Ryker didn’t say anything for a moment, but Carlos could feel him wrapping his arms around his upper waist in a hug. He gladly leaned into him and sucked in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the sudden anxiety that was now looming over him. He just wanted to hide for the rest of the day, somewhere where he couldn’t embarrass himself further.

“I know it looks like a big mess right now,” the human eventually whispered as hooked his chin on Carlos’ shoulder. “...but I promise it’s not gonna take more than a few minutes to clean up, okay? We’ll give the floor a quick mop and wipe everything down, and I’ll put the bowl through the dishwasher for you. No one but us will even know it happened.”

He made it sound so simple. Like it didn’t have to involve beatings and punishments and all the things he’d been forced to endure for mistakes such as this. The thought that maybe he didn’t was almost enough to cause some irritation, but he was quick to stamp it out before it could get any worse. That was not the person he wanted to be, if he was going to be one at all.

“So, do we have a plan?”

Carlos gave a tentative nod and forced a smile, contentedly shutting his eyes when Ryker reached up to ruffle his rapidly-growing hair. “Yes,” he answered quietly, resisting the urge to make a small noise when the human stepped away to grab the metal bowl off the floor. He wrapped his arms around himself and shuffled on his feet a little, glancing down at the floor. “Thank you, sir.”

Between the two of them, it took them all of ten minutes to clean everything up. Ryker took to mopping the floor while Carlos wiped down the cabinets and changed out of his dirty clothes. His face was still red with embarrassment, but he felt better knowing that everything had been taken care of.

Ryker had even offered to help him remake the mixture, and it was as they were putting it in the oven that they heard the front door open, along with multiple sets of feet stepping inside.

Instinctively, Carlos grabbed hold of Ryker’s hand and held it a little too tightly in his own as the two exited the kitchen to greet them. His chest tightened and suddenly all he wanted to do was hide all over again.

That was until he noticed the red eyes of the shorter woman. Red eyes and the two pointed fangs that appeared each time she smiled.

No wonder they came so late in the evening.

For a moment, all Carlos’ manners seemed to fly out the window as he stepped forward and examined her through big, curious eyes. “You’re like me,” he whispered. “You- you’re a vampire, too.”

“Ah. You must be Carlos.” The vampire extended her hand with a warm smile as an invitation for a hand shake. “I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“This is Danny,” Adam informed him, resting a hand on his back as he verbally instructed him on how to shake hands. Carlos felt so awkward, particularly as he watched Ryker embrace who had to be Morgan without an issue. “Sorry I never told you. I figured it’d be a nice surprise if you ever got to meet her.”

Carlos shook his head, eyes flickering between Danny and Adam, and then to Ryker and Morgan. He was so happy to meet someone of his own kind after at least twenty years of living solely with humans.

“Would you like a hug instead?” Danny offered, opening both her arms as an invitation to step into them. Without hesitation Carlos accepted it, wrapping his arms around her neck and squeezing her as tight as he could. He hated how much speaking became a struggle when he got overwhelmed. “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin’.”

Carlos quietly nodded against her shoulder, his voice slightly muffled as he spoke. “Yes, ma’am. It’s been so lo-ong since I got to meet another vampire. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He was so happy. Not only was this a vampire, but she was a free vampire. Adam had said so himself, on the night his and Ryker’s friends came to visit. She was the very thing Carlos was trying so hard to adjust to. She was proof that it was possible.

Truth be told, he could have stood there for a lot longer than he was able to. It was only when Adam gently rubbed his back that he reluctantly released Danny from his grip and turned to look at his human with a small, red-faced smile.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against the sleeve he was pressing up against his mouth, suddenly conscious of how intense he’d been. “‘m sorry, sir.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad it made you happy.” Adam reached up to ruffle his hair as he motioned towards the taller woman. She and Ryker were chatting amongst themselves, but they both looked up the moment they realised everyone had gone quiet. “This is Morgan.”

The vampire tilted his head, frowning. “Are you…?”

Morgan shook her head before he could get the rest of his sentence out. “Just a regular old human, unfortunately.”

“Humans are wonderful, too,” Carlos was quick to assure her, and he truly believed it. “My humans are my best friends. I like the- the nice ones very much.”

Much to his relief, she smiled. “That’s very kind of you. Sounds like the boys have been treating you very well, then, hm?”

“Yes!” he nodded enthusiastically, glancing over at Ryker for some sort of reassurance that what he was saying was okay. From what he could make out, nothing was wrong. He even had a smile on his face. “I love being here very much. I get daily meals and my own bedroom to sleep in, like humans do!”

Adam responded by giving him a gentle pat on the back. “You sure do, bud. Do you think you could help Morgan put her stuff by the bed?”

“Oh, no, I got it-”

Before she could protest further, Carlos had obediently followed his instruction and easily lifted both her bag and the bedding she was holding into his arms. It weighed virtually nothing to him anymore, and he was happy to feel a difference now that he was getting better. It wouldn’t be long before he’d get to experience the full capacity of his strength as a vampire for the first time in his life.

He gave Morgan a warm smile to try and ease the guilty look on her face. “It’s okay, ma’am! I like being helpful.”

“Well, thank you, Carlos.”

Without looking back at her, Carlos beamed at the recognition, no matter how small. Thank you. Such simple words, and yet they meant so much to him. It always made him want to be even more helpful.

“You’re welcome!”

Carlos was extra careful in the kitchen for the rest of the evening. Ryker watched amusedly as he gingerly made his way towards the oven and pulled the cake out with an oven mitt on both hand as to not burn himself. Once it was set on the kitchen table, he let out the deep breath he’d been holding in and pulled the mitts off with his teeth to set them neatly beside the cooling rack.

“Thank you for being so merciful about the mess I made, sir,” he whispered, purposely low enough that no one else could hear him confessing his accident out loud. He shuffled uncomfortably on his feet and took to fiddling with his fingers, glancing down at the ground to avoiding making eye contact with the human. “...and for helping me clean it up. I really am glad to be living here, with you and Adam and all these kind people that I get to spend time with.”

Ryker tilted his head with a smile, reaching out to ruffle the vampire’s hair again. “We enjoy having you here, too. Danny’s very excited to spend some time with you over the weekend.”

“Really?”

The human nodded. “Yeah, for sure. I think everyone’s gonna have an early night tonight, but Adam would like to take Morgan shopping tomorrow, so you’ll get plenty of one-on-one time with Danny then. Did she tell you she’s been around for over three hundred years?”

He couldn’t help but laugh when Carlos’ eyes blew comically wide. “Really? A-are- are Adam and Morgan-” There was a small pause as he struggled to find the right words. “I’m so sorry if this sounds mean, but is Danny related to them? How- how can they be sisters and brothers?”

“Not quite. I don’t think I’m the right person to talk to about the details, but she’s been a big part of their life since they were children. Not blood related, but still far better family than the people that were related to them.”

Carlos hummed, considering Ryker’s words for a moment. “Oh. I… I always thought family had to be related.”

“Not really.” Ryker cleared his throat and leaned against the bench before lightly touching the top of the cake to test how ready it was. “Family is whoever you feel safest around. That’s the rule I’ve always gone by, anyway.”

Once again, another few moments of consideration.

“...Does that mean you and Adam are my family?”

Ryker had to fight off the giddy grin that threatened to appear the moment he realised what Carlos meant. They’d been working so unbelievably hard to ensure that they were people Carlos could feel safe enough to confide in. It made him so happy to hear that it was working.

“We’d be honoured to be a part of your family,” he eventually responded. “You’ve already been a part of mine for far longer than I think you realise. It’s only fair that we be a part of yours, hm?”

The vampire smiled. “Yeah! Thank you, Ryker.” Then he hesitated, averting his eyes down to his feet once more before glancing back up again. Curiosity nearly had Ryker asking him what was wrong, but he managed to blurt out his thoughts before the question could come out. “I love you.”

Ryker didn’t even try to suppress the grin on his face anymore. “I love you, too, man.”

As far as Carlos could tell, everyone that ate it seemed to enjoy the cake. Danny didn’t, obviously, but between the three humans they were able to drain enough blood into two cups for the vampires to sip on, too. It wasn’t until the end that people praised him on its deliciousness, and his heart felt full as he took the empty plates back to the kitchen at the end of the night and stacked them in the dish washer for the next cycle.

I love you, too, man. The words repeated themselves more times than he could count throughout the night. He was just so happy. His younger self would never in a million years believed that he’d eventually find himself with a family. A family that loved and cared for him, and let him care for them in a way that wasn’t expected or demanded.

He wondered if that family would grow in time. If perhaps Charlie would become a part of his family, or Morgan and Danny. It was a nice thought, though if it remained the way it was in that very moment, he’d die a happy vampire.

Taglist: @alexkolax @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @whump-things @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @choppedflowermuffinchild @whumpdreamz

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump tropes #whumpee #caretaker #multiple caretakers #anb stuff #whump thoughts #whump scenarios

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heavenlycloud · 1 year

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𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐞 🌞: 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

reading had become one of your new favorite pastimes these past few months. during your time in grade school you hated the assigned reading books, give or take a few. nearly all of your papers and reports about assigned readings were all the result of quick skimming and online chapter summaries. you didn't realize that books weren't totally awful until one of your friends convinced you to renew your library card since she went fairly often. in reality she just wanted a buddy so she didn't have to walk 30 minutes alone every weekend.

just as you started a new chapter a young woman approached your table. minjeong was completely engrossed in her book and didn't hear the young woman call her name. you smiled kindly to the woman and kicked your best friend under the table. she looked up immediately, "what the fu-" she stopped when she noticed you motion with your eyes to the woman that was next to the table.

minjeong's face turned bright pink as she shyly greeted the woman, "oh rina! hi um- hi what are you doing here?" the girl smiled and motioned to a boy working behind the dessert counter, "he's my younger cousin, i like to visit when i'm in the area." minjeong didn't reply, she only stared at the black haired girl in front of her. you kicked her under the table once more and she jumped in surprise, "sorry i- um...." before she could come up with anything to cover her tracks, you chimed in, "i actually have to head out right now, but if you'd like to take my seat...be my guest." minjeong kicked you under the table, clearly starting to regret having told you she had a crush on this specific classmate. karina beamed, "oh really? if you don't mind then, yes please!"

you quickly threw your book into your tote bag and grabbed your mug to place in the dish return. just as you walked out you threw a wink over your shoulder to minjeong who gave you a scowl.

instead of walking all the way home you decided to stop at another cafe that was a couple blocks over. you settled down in a corner after ordering another drink, and started reading quietly. it was fairly quiet with minimal distraction where you were sitting. that was until you felt your tote bag swing off of the chair arm that you'd been resting it on.

you didn't even get a chance to pick it up before a girl picked it up while apologizing over and over again. she frantically put the bag on the arm of the chair with shaky hands then looked at you. she nearly froze when your gaze met hers, for a moment neither of you spoke, just stared. until she laughed awkwardly and once more said, "i'm so sorry i didn't mean to do that. i totally wasn't paying attention, it's my bad." you assured her warmly with a smile, "it's totally fine. i do it too no worries." she looked like she was about to reply but then she turned around and hurried off without speaking another word. internally you cursed at yourself for not asking for her name or number, she was super cute and now that was a miss opportunity.

minjeong texted you after an hour and a half to let you know that she was both annoyed that you left her, but also happy that you did because she now had a date with her crush at the end of the week. you told her you didn't leave for home but rather another cafe a few blocks over, and that you could meet her and walk home together. just as you were heading for the door, the same girl who knocked your bag down, tapped your arm and asked, "hey can i talk to you for a second?"

at first you were nervous, thinking she was going to say something you wouldn't like. that was until you noticed she was holding a hello kitty post it note with numbers and a few words on it. the girl with bobbed pink hair told you shyly, "i um...i noticed that you were reading Circe, and that your tote bag is from a bookstore i frequent. i hope that doesn't sound like i was watching your or anything but like i kinda was but that's because you're really cute and i like pretty girls and- im rambling....but um yeah i saw you were reading Circe and it's one of my favorite books. so i wanted to recommend you another book that's kind of like it...if that's okay." you smiled from ear to ear, "oh yeah, that'd be really cool actually." at that response you could see the anxiety and nerves leave the girl's body and she relaxed slightly. she handed you the sticky note and said, "it's called Ariadne by Jennifer Saint....and if you want- you totally don't have to but i put my number there if you ever wanna talk about the book. or like meet up to talk about it maybe?" right when you were going to respond she added, "oh and Lily is me- like my name is Lily....yeah."

you let out a small laugh and lily's gaze fell to her feet nervously. in a quieter voice you mused, "you're so cute." lily looked back up in shock, "what?" you quickly asked, "huh? i didn't say anything..." she gave you a knowing grin which made you blush. from the window you saw minjeong crossing the street to the cafe. you looked at the note in your hand then told lily with a smile, "thank you for the book recommendation. i'll talk to you soon!"

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𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚒 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞- 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎...𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎!

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒'𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢! 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕.

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚒 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝! 𝚒'𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝟸 𝚊𝚖....

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎..𝚞𝚖 𝚒𝚍𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚢/𝚗. 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠 :𝙳

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝. 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚏𝚎

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚒 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎....

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 ;)

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃-

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚑𝚎

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚒𝚍𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚜

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎

𝚢𝚘𝚞: 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙰𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝!

𝚢𝚘𝚞: *𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍*

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐…

𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚢: 𝚒 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘

#girl group fluff #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #nmixx imagines #nmixx scenarios #nmixx fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop soft hours #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reader insert #kpop reactions #lily nmixx

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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yes, i’m a squib | part 1.

Summary: Y/N Black has always been a squib, to the dismay of her pureblood family. Cast out to the orphanage at a young age, she thought that was her life. Until her relative Sirius Black breaks out of Azkaban. Suddenly a letter to Hogwarts in thrusted into her hand and Y/N becomes a true part of the magical Wizarding World.

Warnings for the Series: violence, death, light smut, angst, fluff

Pairing: harry potter x black!reader, cedric diggory x black!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

(Series Masterlist)

You sighed as you watched a cloud float through the sky. The grass was soft under your fingertips. You liked that— Mr. Stapius always kept the grass soft and green, even in winter. He did it because he knew you liked it that way. Ever since you had come to the orphanage for wayward witches and wizards, he had started keeping the grass because you were the only child constantly in the back garden. A small smile graced your face as a piece of cake floated to you— the fork and a glass of pumpkin juice floated towards you.

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N)!” Poppy called out from the doorway. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. You better hurry before you miss the train!”

Poppy gave you a large smile before turning back inside, her Slytherin robe flopping behind her. You squinted when the flash of her prefect badge momentarily blinded you. You took a bite of the cake, smiling wide at the taste. Poppy had a way around the kitchen. She really did mean to stay; but, after making prefect, she was required to show up to the Hogwarts Express earlier than other students.

You sighed with each bite of cake after the initial one. It was another year that all the children in the orphanage went to Hogwarts or maybe even another school far away. You were left alone for the third year in a row. Being the only squib at Mr. Stapius’ House meant that every school year you learned in books at home and not at school. Ever the gentleman, Mr. Stapius bought all the wizarding books he could find every time he went to Diagon Alley. He would always tell you how it wasn’t fair to you and that squibs should be allowed to attend school even without much magic. You appreciated the gesture.

With the cake finished, you set the plate on the grass. In one large gulp, you swallowed all the pumpkin juice and then went back to laying down in the grass. A meow garnered your attention. You sat back up, tucking your legs underneath you. A tabby cat meowed once again and you chuckled.

“Yes, I am (Y/N) Black. Although I’m not sure why a cat needs to know that.”

The cat’s eyes widened and it picked up a letter that had been hidden in the dirt and dropped it in your lap. You turned the letter over to see your name and Mr. Stapius’ address sprawled across the front. The paper was easily torn through as you pulled out the letter. Your eyes scanned over the words not believing what you were seeing.

“This is impossible… I’m going… I’m going—”

“To Hogwarts, yes child.”

You looked up abruptly from the letter. Instead of the tabby cat, you were now greeted by an old woman with beautiful green robes and a very large pointed hat. She pulled out her wand, waving it to make your dishes disappear. As she looked down at you through her glasses, she stuck out a hand.

“Professor Minerva McGonagall. Your transfiguration teacher of transfiguration and fairly surprised that you seem to speak cat.”

You took her hand to pull yourself up. “I’ve had plenty of time to learn how to speak to animals… It’s kind of the only magic I can really do.”

“Well, Hagrid will be excited to have a student such as you. We must be quick. You still need your supplies and the other students are already on their way to school… Have you ever apparated before?”

“Twice.”

You barely finished the word before you were immediately pulled into thin air. Diagon Alley was a bustling place. Professor McGonagall barely gave you enough time to look around as she wandered from store to store. The old woman bought you whatever she deemed necessary, not minding your protests about how much money it was costing.

“Cat, owl, or toad?” She asked.

You looked around the pet store. A toad was completely out of the question but there was a bit of a debate between a cat or an owl. An owl would be convenient for letter sending but you could cuddle with a cat. In the end, the petting factor won out and a carrier holding a cute black cat was set on top of your other school supplies.

“Professor,” you asked as you set the cat’s carrier down. “Is there a reason I am suddenly allowed to go to Hogwarts?”

McGonagall’s lips flat-lined. Her eyes flitted back and forth as she tried to scramble for an answer while you walked. She didn’t have the opportunity to give you one. Your eyes casted up in time to see a poster plastered onto an alleyway that seemed to lead to a part of town that you wouldn’t want to be in. The screaming man on the poster wasn’t hard to identify. There stood your relative, Sirius Black. Out of Azkaban.

“Oh,” you said simply.

The witch behind you sighed. “It is for your protection. Hogwarts has made an exception, he will be coming back fo—”

“He never tried to kill me,” you cut her off.

“(Y/N)…”

“He never tried to kill me. He never tried to kill Harry Potter or anyone.”

The determination in your voice was too apparent for McGonagall to try and tell you otherwise— now was not the time to break your heart. Professor McGonagall guided you into Ollivander’s shop as she said something about getting a trunk for all your stuff. You looked back at her retreating figure before turning to look at the old man in front of you. It was like a dream. You had always wanted to go to Ollivander’s but of course were never allowed. But here you were. Ollivander beckoned you to step closer. He examined you three times before shuffling off to the back and pulling out some wands. Gently, he set the first wand in your hand. Not a second later, it bounced away as if repulsed by the very thought of you.

“Not to worry, my dear. Witches and wizards rarely get it right on their first try,” he said as he saw your frown.

His fingers skipped over the second and third wand and went right to the fourth, placing it in your hand. It didn’t even try to budge and you felt the corners of your mouth lift up. The wand felt right in your grip. Ollivander waited expectantly before suddenly remembering who you were— McGonagall had been so kind to inform him of your predicament before you even set foot in Diagon Alley.

“Well, we can’t test it but the wand always chooses the wizard. Hornbeam, unicorn hair, 10 and ¾ inches, moderately flexible,” Ollivander recited the stats as he gave you a box and a bag for your wand.

“Thank you.”

“I have to say my own wand is Hornbeam. Wands like this are unique to the owner, no one will ever be able to figure out its magic once it becomes attuned to you… a shame to be paired with unicorn hair, that core doesn’t provide with very strong magic.”

“Well, neither do I,” you joked.

Ollivander smiled. “In that case Ms. Black, it is perhaps the perfect wand for you.”

You gave him one last wave before meeting Professor McGonagall outside. With a nod that you were ready, the two of you apparated to Hogwarts. Just because you had seen it in books didn’t make it any more amazing in person. You couldn’t close your mouth if you tried. Sticking close to Professor McGonagall, you listened to her give the opening speech to the first years. Poppy had recited it the first year she came back from Hogwarts on Christmas vacation— recited it so much that you knew it by heart.

A panic went through you for a brief moment when you realized it was time to go inside. You stood next to the professor the entire time, looking at the floor instead of the people around who were already whispering as they wondered who you were. You bounced on the balls of your feet in front of all the first years as you waited for the Sorting Hat to finish its stupid song. You willed it to hurry up. The quicker it went, the quicker you could get sorted and sit down.

“(Y/N) Black.” McGonagall’s voice rang out in the hall.

The entire place suddenly became quiet. Your shoes echoed loudly as you stepped up the small steps and sat down on the school. You weren’t even listening to the hat as it pondered outloud, picking at your fingers instead. You briefly looked up to find Poppy at the Slytherin table whose shocked expression turned into one of genuine happiness as she gave you a small wave.

The hat became heavy and was starting to hurt a bit as it sat on your freshly done braids. Without much thought, you lifted it up for a brief second and adjusted some of the braids before setting it back on your head. The hat chuckled with much gusto causing you to cringe.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Nothing to apologize for,” the hat replied. “Mmm… a shame you don’t have an affinity to magic, I see a great witch that you could be. Still, hard-working, loyal perhaps to a fault. Resilient. And still kind, better be… Hufflepuff!”

You sighed internally. Poppy went on and on about hufflepuffs and now that was the house that you just got. A squib, a Hufflepuff. Could it get any worse for you? That question was answered as all the other tables except for Hufflepuff began laughing quietly.

“Do you mind putting me down, my dear?”

You looked up to see that hat was still on your head. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you quickly moved back up the steps to place the hat on the chair. Without bringing any more attention to yourself, you sat down at the table. A boy, older than you, plopped down in the empty space next to you. You looked at the shiny prefect badge on his cloak.

“Cedric Diggory, Sixth Year Head Boy for Hufflepuff.” He stuck out a hand.

“(Y/N) Black.”

“I know,” he said with a smile.

You let go of his hand as you groaned and smacked your head onto the table with a dull clunk, ignoring the pain. First days were not your strong suit. Not your first day at the orphanage, your first day in daycare, even your first day on earth— your mother didn’t make it through childbirth, although the entire family blamed that on being stuck in America at a muggle hospital right as her water broke. You could hear a little laugh come from the boy next to you. Cedric placed his head on the table and you turned your face to look at him with a slight frown, unsure if he was mocking you.

“It’s my job, along with other prefects, to make sure all the Puffs are comfortable during their time here at Hogwarts. Just remember that,” he said before suddenly shooting up to applaud for a first year that made Hufflepuff.

You slowly lifted your head to add your applause to the crowd. Soon all the kids were sorted and the feast began. Your eyes widened at all the food on the table. As the food began to hit plates, Dumbledore stood up. He garnered everyone’s attention— although no one stopped eating as he spoke.

“First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor RJ Lupin to our school as our new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Your gaze went to the man who raised his hand. That was a name you had heard once or twice, you weren’t very sure. He seemed to look straight at you, causing you to turn back to your food. You didn’t look up again as the headmaster began to talk about the dementors and the reason while they were at Hogwarts in the first place. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You were sure of it. All of a sudden, the food seemed dull. You pushed it away and just waited for the feast to end.

“Are you not hungry?” Cedric asked. You had forgotten that he was still next to you.

“Never could eat very much,” you lied.

“Well, spend a few months at Hogwarts and that’ll change.”

He went back to eating and you just swirled around the drink in your cup. When the feast was finally over, you followed everyone to the common room. Hufflepuffs were right next to the kitchen which, the Head Girl in sixth year informed you, was perfect because of the access to midnight snacks.

“If you’re nice, the house elves won’t snitch if they see you in the kitchen, although we technically aren’t supposed to tell you that,” she said. “Password is that there is no password. Knock on the third barrel from the left.”

She did just that and the barrels rolled slightly away from each other to expose an open corridor. Everyone piled inside. You looked around the common room and decided that you rather liked Hufflepuff and the earthy, home vibe it seemed to give off. As the other kids made their way upstairs, you stayed in the common room for a minute before going to do the same.

“Black,” a girl’s voice called you.

You stopped to see all of the prefects, from fifth through seventh year, standing together and looking at you. You moved back to them, looking around and trying to figure out how you already messed up. The Head Girl from seventh year, Bettie Striker, patted your shoulder.

“What life have you lived, kid? Loosen up, you’re not in trouble.”

“Your rooming situation is a little different,” The prefect boy in fifth year said. “With all of your… circumstances… Hogwarts staff seems to agree that it’s best if you aren’t rooming with the other kids, you know, bullying and all that.”

You sighed. “Because I’m a Black or a squib?”

“Uh, both. We aren’t saying it’ll happen but—”

“Just being safe.”

“Exactly. You’ll be in the Prefects’ Hall with all of us, Bettie agreed to room with Jeannie.”

“Oh no, I don’t want anyone to give up a room for me.”

Bettie shook her head. “Listen, kid, I’m perfectly happy to do so if it makes your life a bit easier here.”

Jeannie agreed with her. You followed the rest of them into the separate Prefects’ Hall and to your room. It wasn’t large but it was better than anything you ever had— that wasn’t entirely true. You remembered the Black Manor gave you the largest room in the house before you were taken to Mr. Stapius at age six when you hadn’t shown an inkling of magic and were tested for being a squib. But since being at Mr. Stapius’ house, you were always sharing a room. Your cat, who you had named Padfoot, meowed when you entered. Ignoring him, you flopped onto the bed. Padfoot walked over your stomach until his nose was right under your chin.

“What am I doing here, Padfoot? Nothing about me belongs in Hogwarts,” you sighed before letting sleep take over.

(Part 2)...

#cedric diggory x black!reader #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x black!reader #golden trio x reader

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