#learn how to cook moron

[vany-kun]

Present from Shioriko

Haiyaaa......

[cyberpersonstranger]

𝑲𝑨𝑻𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑰 𝑩𝑨𝑲𝑼𝑮𝑶

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 !💥! 𝑮.𝑵 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋. 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪. 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋↴

I think this whole fandom agrees Katsuki is a damn good cook. His specialty foods are omurice and karaage, but he makes amazing soups too. If you ever ask for any of his recipes he'll deny you all the way, but if you ask him to MAKE you something he'll agree after a bit of convincing.

"Tch. Fine dumbass, you're cleaning the mess though."

Constantly cracking his knuckles and neck. He doesn't care who it's in front of or who likes it and who doesn't. He'd prefer doing it in front of people who dislike it though, he enjoys making them annoyed or pissed off. If you ask him about it he'll respond as if everyone cracks their knuckles and neck as much as he does.

"What, do you not crack your fucking knuckles like a normal person?"

Definitely the type of person to fight over who plays aux whilst being in the car. Unless someone has similar music taste to him if anyone dares to even touch the aux he'll start yelling, maybe even making small explosions. I can see him listening to 90s-early 2000s nu metal or rock, most likely I.C.P or Limp Bizkit, possibly Slipknot.

"Start playing Limp Bizkit or else I'll explode you all the way to hell."

If you and Katsuki share the same costume design company (meaning you'll share with Uraraka too) he'll most likely try to boast to you about how much better his costume is. His equipment? Oh so much better, so much more helpful compared to yours. The design? Cooler too, much more awesome than yours.

"Pff my gauntlets are more badass than whatever the hell you have going on."

If you purposely try to get his attention by touching him he'll swat at you. If you even TAP his shoulder prepare for a nice hit on your wrist before you can even take your finger off him. Touching his back to let him know your presence will earn you a hit too, most likely a harsher hit.

"Don't touch me. Idiot."

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 ↴

If you read the platonic hcs, once you start dating Katsuki you quickly learn why he doesn't like being touched, even if it's subtle. He's embarrassed about how much his body sweats because of his quirk and trust me, he'd never ever admit it. You begin picking up on this when you learn he showers multiple times a day. and when he's constantly wiping his hands off with an ashamed look on his face. Even while in a relationship he isn't too keen about being a touched.

"Yeah I shower 3 times a day, so what."

He's the biggest show off you'll ever date. He just got done stretching? He's crossing his arms in that black tank-top, flexing his biceps to you. He's training with you and Midoriya? He's quick to show off his quirk abilities and even quicker sending Midoriya to Recovery Girl. He's prideful about it too, he'll definitely say something if you just stare at him while he's showing off.

"You like my biceps eh? You're eyeing them like you're gonna fucking eat me."

Katsuki is far from being the best at words, and with him not easing in to touch until later in the relationship it's difficult for him to show he appreciates and loves you. He tries to show his appreciation by gift giving. His parents are both loaded, I mean have you seen the Bakugo home? If you mention something expensive you've been wanting he's fast to make sure it's in your hands by the end of the week. If you say you like his yummy food he's suddenly cooking you dinners a few times a week.

"I uh.. made you some miso soup. Here moron."

He actually tries to be nicer to you compared to how he treats Kirishima and the others. Nothing too sappy, maybe a "you look.. nice?" here and there. If you end up smiling from his attempts he's quick to get both defensive and possibly even flustered.

"Why're you smiling at me like that!? That was barely a compliment!"

Sometimes you'll catch him staring at you. While staring, he wonders how you deal with his temper, how snarky he is, how unaffectionate he can be. Once you notice his stare he quickly looks away. If you ask about his glare he'll deny it through and through.

"No I wasn't staring at you, idiot. You're going crazy."

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ↴

𝐓𝐖𝐬: nsfw obviously, CHARACTER AGED UP, praise kink

Despite his tough ass demeanor I feel like Katsuki's a rather caring lover during intimacy. He's always making sure you like what he's doing and makes sure you're okay. Even if you're a babbling wreck he still wants to make sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable.

"This okay with you?" (He's says as he's just pressing gentle kisses against your neck.)

He's not very vocal whatsoever. Going down on his pretty cock? He's biting back moans and only allowing very quiet whimpers to come out of his lips. Taking it so well as he pounds into you? He's stopping himself from groaning by kissing you with such desire. If you tell him it's okay and you want him to be vocal he'll shake his head and deny you.

"No screw that! Moaning is for weaklings I don't need to be loud as hell just to fuck you. "

Katsuki loves praise while in bed. He want's to know he's doing good, he wants to know and that nobody else can make you feel the way he makes you. If you praise him enough he'll roughen up his pace just a bit. Okay, maybe a lot. Praise really gets him going.

"Tell me I'm fucking you nicely, just tell me I'm good god dammit!"

I apologize for the NSFW section, I'm not the best writer for that subject. I hope you guys enjoy this because I'm debating on doing Amajiki or Kaminari next lmao.

[alwaysshallow]

how you get the girl

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x female reader

READ ON AO3

You spend Valentine's Day with your best friend, perfectly oblivious to his feelings to you. (3k)

A/N: an exchange gift for @tokusho!! hope you like it; Kyle is a sweetheart!! a sweetheart that loved you from the very start, it would be proper to say. I wouldn't be myself if I wouldn't include smut in it lmao

People love winter for multiple reasons.

First, school doesn't bug them that much. Sure, there’s always something to do, but it’s calmer around Christmas time and February, when all of the exams are over. Time for yourself, learning new hobbies or expanding current ones. Cute.

It's also the best to spend this time on travelling—around the world or near the area someone lives in. No matter where, it’s good to take a breath and visit your family or friends, too.

Or just to wander around your town, taking in nature and thinking about mundane things, far from the school, far from the boring reality someone is in. When you can just be amazed by the view right in front of you, thinking how small the world really is, how grateful you are to be here.

Secondly, it's a cozy season. You can get lost in watching those silly romcom movies, trying to bake something edible from the various cooking shows that are out here. Wanting to be at least half as good as Gordon Ramsay is, or to serve the best cake in the world. Everyone makes it so effortless, it’s only natural to want to try it too.

Does it work?

Well, based on your own experience, you're certainly better at it, but cinnamon rolls are by far the best thing you can make—mostly because it can't be too sweet. And your main problem? Making things way too sweet. Not because you like it that way, not because you have someone who likes it that way, you just… Well, let's say, you like to skip the amount of things you have to add.

Everything is "on eye" and maybe it works with cooking, but certainly not baking.

All of those reasons could be your reasons why you would like winter. Could—because you have one that is way more important than baking or being alone.

Because this is the season when you see Kyle Garrick after months of being apart. You see his dumb smile whenever you open the door for him, how happy he is to be here. How he literally can’t wait to step into your house and be here for a couple of weeks since that’s how he uses his leave. Couple of days for other friends and catching around. The rest is for you.

Kyle is your friend from high school. Years spent together in the same classes, parties, he was—still is—a dear friend that had your back, and you had his, always, no matter how shitty the situation was.

Inseparable, that’s what you were. Attending the same practices, no matter if it was a football one, art classes or something else; you always were here for a good laugh, especially if you sucked at some activities.

Everyone around always saw you together. There were even a few rumors about you two dating, but it never came down to this, to being together despite years of flirting and a few innocent kisses, there and there. You two didn’t even talk about this, much to your dismay.

Maybe you would, if he didn’t leave for the military. Tough separation, leaving you on ice with no one to help you to get up and get your shit together because life doesn’t only depend on one boy that you’re hopelessly devoted to. Took a couple of months, but you eventually got used to it—being with him for a couple of days or weeks to see him leaving for another couple of months. Weeks.

You sometimes wonder if he has someone out there. Waiting there for him in the military, even if it’s forbidden at some point. Or, maybe he has some medic that always patches him up after the missions, a small smile at her lips, keeping his secrets. Keeping his bed warm, making the whole thing easier because she’s always gonna be around. No matter what.

“—and he’s just a moron.”

But maybe if he did have someone, he wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with you.

You look up at him, a confused look on your face, but you manage to give him a smile. He probably talks about the movie that you two are watching; a classic romcom, Love Actually, but you’re not sure. You got too lost in your thoughts to know who he is calling a moron and give it more than a second of your thinking.

He seems to know that. An arch of his eyebrows exposes him, appearing when he always thinks of something a little too much. Military habit, he once explained, but it makes you chuckle every time.

“Who’s a moron?” you ask, deciding not to act dumb—it wouldn’t work in front of him. Not when he knows the pattern of your thoughts, not when you two know each other inside out.

“Him. I would give up on a girl that’s taken, sure, especially if she’s nothing but eye candy. A stupid desire that would end the friendship. But he literally filmed her through the entire wedding,” he mutters, his fingers curling slowly the ends of your hair. He repeats the action several times, even if he talks. You think it’s soothing him in some way. “She had to mean everything for him.”

“It’s about the art of letting go. She was in love with his best friend, it’s… not that simple.” You shrug; for some reason, Kyle barks a laugh at that. Startled, you punch him with your elbow and you take a little distance. “What? You don’t agree? Come on, you wouldn’t do it.”

“Well, ‘m not the one to do it normally, but if I’d be obsessed enough to keep my eyes only on her, I might as well give it a better chance before she gets married,” he huffs. If you didn’t know him like you do, you’d suspect that there's a bitterness somewhere in it, the way he says it. Mad, almost like it’s about him, and a single thought about it makes you sick in your stomach. “Wouldn’t you?”

You gulp. It feels like an interrogation, not a simple talk between two best friends about a romantic comedy that you just watched. There’s a hardness in his tone, demand for answer. “No. I’d put his happiness before mine. If he’s happy, if he has plans that don't involve me in some way, maybe that’s only right. Especially if it’s like this for some time right now.”

It’s not the confession itself, it’s not your feelings with your heart that you put on a silver platter for him to take, but it speaks. It screams, suffocated so many years under the water because you don’t want to ruin anything that’s between you two. Maybe it would be easier in high school, maybe before that prom where he went with Lizzie instead of you, but it didn’t happen.

So, in your mind, it’s something that needs to be buried deep. Six feet underground, where you could meet your feelings from time to time with all the memories that followed it. When you’d eventually move on, but it doesn’t happen.

A small ding in the kitchen rescues you from the fiasco that could happen with this conversation; suddenly, you have to check on your cookies and decorate them, as you always have. Year by year, something sweet; a recompensation for being single so many years in a row.

It doesn’t take much time to have Kyle looming over you like a vulture, curious what you have here. It doesn’t take much time for him to help you; clumsily, but he does a cute job with decorating, even if it’s way too much cream there and there. You have no heart to tell him that, though. And, it doesn’t take him much time to think that’s way too boring for now, so he should do something different.

Something different: dance with you, like he always has. An old song playing from his phone, one hand on your waist, while the other hand travels to make you move. He doesn’t talk (he never does when you two dance, not unless you’re gonna start doing that), he just looks at you. Chocolate brown eyes staring into yours, like they’re trying to see something in yours.

“Boyfriend material,” you could say; and you do, without realizing it at first—Kyle’s smile gives it away.

“I mean, can’t say no to that.” He grins, happy. You, right now, want to kill yourself in some way. “I’m pretty useful in many ways, if I have to say so myself. I mean, just think of how many times you’ve been impressed with me already.” He chuckles, turning you around and around with seemingly no problem. He’s always like this; charming, boyish. Making you fall right into the trap with his eyes, straight up from a fairytale.

He is, in fact, from a fairytale. Too perfect to be real and too perfect to be single, guys like him are always snatched from the public. Kept close the heart because every woman in the world deserves someone like him.

“Your ego could be tempered, though.” You poke his chest (ridiculously hard chest), while he laughs again.

“Always charming. You love my ego,” he points out. You might not agree out loud, but in your mind? Oh, hell yes. Not debatable.

You’d give everything to love him properly. To cherish him, to make him happy when he’s on leave with kisses, gifts, with taking him to your family so he’ll have a scrap of normal life. To wake up beside him in bed, arms sneaked around you with a dose of protectiveness that he always has, even if it’s not the romantic one like you want it to be.

“And you’re thinking way too much, pretty,” he chuckles, leaning over you even more. The size difference between you two is evident and big, encouraging him. Always had, especially when he knows how much of an impact he has like that. “Care to share?”

“Usual shit,” you answer, clearing your throat. Two beats of silence pass, when he sighs and turns you around one more time, pulling you closer to himself. Chest to chest, or—your head to his chest, to be exact. You have to look up at him to see his eyes. “Kyle—”

“—is it about that movie we watched? You love someone that you can’t have?” He shoots a question at you; unexpected, a swift bullet going right through you. Making you tremble, feeling like you’re not in a warm house, but in the busy, cold street in London in your underwear only.

“No, it’s—”

“—Because if so, why didn’t you tell me? I bet there’s a way—”

“—there’s no way, that’s the problem. That’s the problem because you’re funny, handsome and you probably have someone here, way more interesting than me, so I don’t understand why you are here right now. I don’t, I won’t…” You breathe. There’s a lot in you right now, way too much to unload it right now.

“You love me?”

The choice of words, so carefully avoided by you the whole time, dawns on you. Makes an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, the presence of thousands of butterflies informing you that, in fact, you do love him. Always had, even if you denied to use these specific words.

“Since high school.” It’s a quiet confession. Almost shy, but you look him straight in the eye when you say that, taking a step back when he takes a step forward.

“And why you… didn’t tell me sooner?”

“Wanted to. But when you took that girl to the prom, something…” You sigh. Taking a moment because for the first time, you need to be honest about your feelings. “I don’t know, something snapped. I thought it would ruin everything between us, I thought it’s not worth it to say that I want something more when you want someone else. And, after you got around the idea of being in the military—”

He steals the rest of the words with a kiss. Soft, indicating you don’t need to say more than you’ve already said because it’s all he needs to know, actually. It’s the first time he does it completely sober, not driven by alcohol, curiosity or some dare—it’s something that he wants to do, and you can feel it on your lips. The hot feeling of desire, when your hands travel under his t-shirt, where you didn’t have access earlier.

“Took her only because Jake said he’s going with you. I had no idea that he was lying,” he whispers out. Nervous, like he might spill some secret, while you just can’t keep yourself from smiling. “I wanted this,” he points at you and himself after another kiss, “since I’ve fuckin’ left. Got sick thinking of other bloody bastards that could—”

“Thinking too much?” you interrupt him, reminding him of his words from earlier. Words that, right now, seem even more appropriate given the situation between you two and how unimportant the past is.

Garrick huffs with disbelief, amused. “A fucking minx you are, y’know that?”

He doesn’t let you say anything in response, as his teeth clack against yours when he kisses you, hastily, like a man starved. Hands going around your waist just to transfer the two of you to your bedroom, decorated for Valentine's Day, unintentionally.

And maybe it makes sense, when you think of everything he has done for you, when he’s on top of you, placing a map of kisses on your body. Maybe it makes sense how he always brought you something on Valentine’s Day, making you feel special. Always saying that it’s a “commercial event” and nothing else, just a day, even if he always brought you flowers, teddybears and chocolates.

How he always spent it on doing your favorite things. Ice rink, going to a match, movies, it didn’t matter—what mattered was you. How he didn’t deny that you’re a couple when some strangers cooed that you two look absolutely perfect with each other. Only a big smile on his face, arm around you, protectively. Making sure that you’re here with him, not anywhere else.

He always keeps you close, even right now, insisting on holding hands when he fucks you, making you fall in love with the idea. Kyle moves slowly, like he wants to remember every inch of your body for the first time you’re so close with him, but it doesn’t last long. It doesn’t because it takes a couple of your moans and he goes mad crazy about the whole thing.

Between the sudden rough, fast pace of his thrusts, he talks a lot. You don’t get much of it, melted into a puddle of your own thoughts; you wanted it so bad. Fantasized, touched yourself to the thought of him to have him right here, right now, and now he’s rutting into you like a maniac. Spreading you open like it’s not even a challenge for him, which makes it easy to ignore the first pain of his cock in you.

When one of his hands circles around your throat (one hand still holding yours, fingers intertwined, like he insisted on doing), you pay more attention to his words, even if they’re incoherent. Messy, he lets every thought flow out of his mind, no matter if they have end or not, no matter if he said something similar or not. You are the one thing that entangles them, even if his words make you feel more and more weak in your knees. How good you are for him, how he’s not gonna give this pussy to anyone, how much your body will make him lose his shit.

He makes the whole thing way more intimate than it already is, luring you into the endless pleasure with him, when he leaves hickeys on your skin, a mark that he was here. Making you depend on him, intoxicating like a couple of colorful drinks, always making you dizzy, but nonetheless, you always want more, until you’re gonna see stars.

And that’s what you see with Kyle Garrick. It doesn’t even feel real, until your fingernails scratch his bare back and your fingers from the other hand tighten around his. Your legs are weak for him, your whole body is.

You feel it twice as hard when he comes too, babbling the whole time about you being the only woman in his life and marrying you. In a bliss, you only smile, kissing his forehead a couple of times, when he hugs you tight, like he doesn’t want you to leave the bed.

Not like you planned to do it anyway.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs against your shoulder, moving a little; you feel how his cum leaks from you. His softened cock still in you, as Garrick apparently doesn’t feel like pulling it out.

“The best Valentine’s Day,” you correct him with a lazy smile on your face. Content, for the first time in the while.

Garrick nods, slowly. “Yeah. Ended up in having sex, so—”

“—you’re the worst,” you laugh, shaking your head. Kyle seems almost scared for a moment, but when he sees that you’re genuinely laughing, he breathes out. “Only because of that? Not because your best friend basically confessed her feelings to you?”

“That too. Obvious option.” He grins, while you smack him with amusement. Kyle bites your shoulder, leaving another mark, while his other hand ruffles your hair.

You groan. “You’re gonna explain it tomorrow to my parents. All those hickeys and bites, young man.”

“You think they’re gonna be mad? Gonna tell them we’re together and they will ask about children,” he laughs; and he’s completely right about it, though. Your parents were cheering for you two from the start, they probably still do. “Anyway, we should order something. I don’t feel like cooking when I have you in bed.”

You huff, amused. “Romantic.”

“Very,” he snides, pulling you closer. His hand travels south, fingers circling near your clit. “Delivery will take some time, so we have to… make use of the time. You tired yet?”

“No, but—”

“—Fantastic.”

[cerise-on-top]

hi :D if you do character x character (with possibly x reader, too) headcanons, may i request nikprice hcs? aghh.. i love them so much, but there's (in my opinion) little content of them compared to other ships.. if you do have to add reader into it too thats okay :) i don't mind poly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

but besides that how are you doing? i hope youre doing good :]

Hey there! I'm doing well, thank you! I've actually got five days off next week, which I'm really looking forward to! Plus I get to go to my regular department again too soon enough! But unfortunately, the other apprentice left me with so much work ^^;

NikPrice and NikPrice x Reader

NikPrice:

Although the two of them may be a bit older than some of their peers, they can still be considered idiots, especially when they’re with one another. Sometimes they get weirdly competitive with each other, which can result in either of them getting hurt. Nikolai leads Chimera and Price leads the TF141, both of them sometimes need to show off just how good they are at some things. Nikolai is usually a pretty calm guy, but he does get a bit cocky with Price, so he’ll instigate some competitions. Who can carry the most groceries. Who can find the most dogs and take pictures with them. Who will be favored the most for the week among their boys. It’s just dumb things, and Nikolai does try to cheat his way through most of them, but Price knows him well enough by now to know how he will try to weasel his way into victory. Price usually plays fair and forces Nikolai to do the same. The winner gets bragging rights and that’s about it. Sometimes they poker on who pays for dinner, but they don’t really mess around too much when it comes to more serious stuff. However, they both also compete with each other to show off just how good of a partner they are, even if there’s no need to do that anymore. They can both be proud as peacocks and always need to outdo one another.

Although it may sound stupid, the two of them do spar with each other from time to time. Since they’re about equal in strength it’s actually quite interesting to watch the two of them fight, both have a pretty good technique as well. However, Nikolai has more experience under his belt since he’s quite a bit older than Price. Again, he’s also not above cheating by trying to entice Price with just about anything he can think of. They’re adults, they’re leaders, but they are still morons with each other. Sometimes they fight over the TV remote when Price wants to watch his football game and Nikolai wants to tease him. Price gets mad every time he misses the football game just because he lost to his stupid lover. Nikolai gets a good laugh out of it every time. Although he may love Price more than anyone else, he can be a playful and cocky bastard at times. He makes up for it by taking Price to a real football game in a stadium, though. Can’t enrage the boyfriend too much all the time. Price is usually overjoyed when he does since he gets really into it. There’s nothing better than enjoying some football with Nikolai. Unless Nikolai teases Price about his team losing. In that case the two of them won’t be talking more than necessary for an hour. However, Price goes back to normal after the initial anger of his team losing has worn off.

Nikolai is actually a chef of the master class. He can cook just about anything and make it well at that too. Since he’s been pretty much everywhere at this point he’s learned quite a few recipes from all around the world. He also knows how to use his spices well. Though, his favorite recipes to make are still Russian ones. The two of them cook together often, it relaxes them. Besides, Price gets the privilege of eating Nikolai’s pirozhki before anyone else does. It’s an honor to him since he’s never had anything better in his life. Loves being Nikolai’s taste tester as well. Price isn’t as good a cook as Nikolai, but he does like showing his appreciation for all the good food by cooking something in return. However, his food is kind of bland. It could be worse, but it could also use a lot more spices. Nikolai used to tease Price about that before, but he’s stopped since as Price really does put a lot of effort into cooking for Nikolai. The latter really isn’t so mean to genuinely hurt his boyfriend like that. He does give Price some constructive criticism, though. Offers to help with cooking next time, but both of them know that Nikolai will just take the lead. But in the end, they both really do enjoy cooking with each other, regardless of who makes the main dish. They also get really chatty during it.

NikPrice x Reader

Considering how long they’ve been with each other, they've gotten used to it, but you genuinely cannot cuddle them during summer. You’ll become a sweaty mess and won’t be able to sleep at all since they’re both very warm. Nikolai more so than Price. However, the two of them can cuddle each other just fine since they’re used to warmer nights because of all the missions they’ve gone on. However, it’s pretty nice in winter. They’re two big, burly and warm men who love to make you feel toasty. Price is actually a pretty cuddly guy and Nikolai can be too with the right people. If you’re not on the cuddly side then they’ll settle for giving you a pat on the back every once in a while or just holding your hand. But Price loves touching you and Nikolai. He doesn’t need to do it every single waking moment, but it’s nice to hold your loved ones. Nikolai can go either way, but he’s pretty cuddly with Price. Sometimes the two of them fight over who gets to be the big spoon, other times they’ll just plop into each other’s arms. If you’re shorter than them then you’ll likely get sandwiched between them. If you’re as tall or taller than them then they might ask you to take on the role of big spoon. Sure, they won’t mind it when you’re shorter than them, but they’ll chuckle since you’re just a little backpack.

Both of them will try to teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Even if you’re capable of that already, they’ll teach you something anyway. They’re both military men, they know what they’re talking about. Besides, it’s not as unlikely as one might think that you might get hurt because of them. You need to be able to defend yourself. They’ll take turns teaching you, improving your form and all. They’ll sometimes even deliberately spar in front of you so you could learn something from them fighting with each other. They won’t be as rough with you as they are with each other, especially not if you’re not part of the military, but they’ll be diligent in teaching you either way. If you’re part of the military then they’ll be rougher with you, but not as rough as with each other. Nikolai and Price have known each other for so long, they know where each other’s limits are. You’re the newest addition, so there’s still things they need to get to know. But I can assure you they will take good care of you. They’ll also reward you if you’re doing especially well during your little training lessons. Nikolai tries to bribe you into doing well by offering to cook your favorite meal if you do so.

The two of them actually spoil you rotten, especially if you don’t earn as much money as they do. Nikolai earns even more money than Price, so he has quite a lot to spend. Loves buying you and him all kinds of things. These can range from something useful to just something he saw and thought you might like. Price doesn’t like being indebted to people, so he always tries to buy Nikolai something back, even insisting that he shouldn’t buy him as many things. Nikolai never listens to him in that regard. And since Price buys Nikolai things he has to buy something for you as well. Sometimes it’s just your favorite kind of cake, sometimes it’s some nice and expensive jewelry. It’s always a mystery with Price. You don’t have to feel obligated to buy them something either. You’re more than welcome to if you have the finances to do so, but if you usually barely get by then you really shouldn’t have to. In fact, if you don’t have a lot of money then the two of them will pay for just about anything you need. Clothes, food, other necessities. It doesn’t matter. Together they have more money than they know what to do with anyway. It’s nice to spend it on someone you love and make them happy anyway. Don’t pay them back, they’ll find your bank account and return the money. They love you, let them pamper you like the little royalty you are.

[respectthepetty]

As a Disney villain, I'm not an animal person, but I love Frito! I love his name, I love why it's his name, and I love how Ishida says it! But I especially love how domestic Ishida looks strolling with Mitsuya's groceries and dog into his house with the tiny rainbow flower garden decoration outside.

Because Ishida is younger than Mitsuya and a mess, I forget that he is 27 (29 in the manga).

But then he has known he likes Mitsuya, romantically, this entire time, but he has been holding it close because he doesn't want to disrupt Mitsuya's life while he is figuring his out. The third episode leaned into the sexual nature of Mitsuya's previous situationships, but Ishida didn't seem opposed to it, but rather to Shige being so crass about it, so he isn't sorting out the queer thoughts as much as he is just trying to sort out his feelings.

Which is why he is such an adult! Mitsuya's ex barges in and tries to make himself at home while Ishida apologizes for coming over unannounced. The ex is already lying about who he is staying with while Ishida admitted where he got his information from. The ex never learned to cook because Mitsuya is a good cook, but Ishida gets the groceries, picks vegetables from the garden, and preps them. The ex asks Mitsuya to come to Paris because he assumes Mitsuya has been waiting for him for ten years, but Ishida asks if Mitsuya even wants to go to Paris and if he is still in love with Noguchi.

Mitsuya called Noguchi an irresponsible man, and he threw a whole bag of salt at him to rid himself of the moron.

But he makes space for Ishida because Ishida doesn't add stress. He helps clean up messes instead of making them.

One man is getting kicked out and the other is being invited in.

Ishida is the (responsible) adult Mitsuya needs.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Do you have any zosan fic recs?

Of course I do! Here are some

Zosan Fic Recs

all the hidden love, beneath by Giosele - Rated M

His eyes flicker towards the more discernible scars, the deep ones with smooth taut skin. The ones his hands have traced hundreds of times. Then Sanji spots the fresh, poorly stitched wound dancing across Zoro’s flank. The shoddy quality screams Mosshead. “Moron.” Sanji crumples his cigarette and flattens it underfoot in one smooth motion. “Idiot. You stupid, reckless swordsman. Stay here, I’ll get Chopper.” -- The crew is a wreck after Enies' Lobby. Despite being a wreck himself, Sanji tries to take care of them all.

you got time, you're on the mend, babe by steeringwheeleater - Rated T

“He doesn't trust me, and he obviously doesn’t want the captain to know.” “He doesn’t want me to know, either.” “He knows that you know, Cook.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Sanji’s shoulders creep up again. “… Sorry.” Robin adjusts her stance from one leg to the other; her nearest analog to rolling her eyes. “You’ve been too gentle with him to be subtle, Cook. It’s like I said: you’ve been defending him to the others.”

Kept Down, Helped Up by Gay_as_fuck - Rated T

Zoro's near death in Wano strains the crew, the latest in a long line of risk taking. A very stressed Nami solves this problem by throwing Sanji at it.

In Tandem by lemon_drop48 - Rated M

"I wanted to make you laugh." The honest admission felt dumb the second it came out of his mouth. It's too breathy, he's still out of breath from a distinct lack of oxygen recently. And there's no way the cook understands - Sanji throws back his head in laughter. For a moment there isn't even fear that he's laughing at him. Sanji's laugh is beautiful, and seeing that huge smile spread across his cheeks in genuine mirth felt like it was priceless.

revelations by cloversome - Rated T

It's been three days since Zoro blacked out. When he finally awakens, he finds his spirit is detached from his still unconscious body.

Demon's Deception by Maik_Morrow - Rated T

Summary

Having read an article about the ‘Demon of the East’ years prior to joining the Strawhat crew, Sanji was confused. He didn't understand how the man he heard would be a ruthless monster could be so different. All he saw was a caring, kind and gentle man. Until he understood the reason some time later.

It’s In His Kiss by Hazel_Athena - Rated G

They reach the island of Bise early in the new year.

unintended consequence by itsmylifekay - Rated T

Imagine person A making person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off. A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

Language of love by averybidisaster - Rated E

It irked Zoro that upon meeting him, a whirlwind of limbs, blue eyes and a cigarette dangling from his cocky smile, something in his gut flip-flopped, instead of the usual, clear feeling he usually got when he met men, like a natural yes/no answer. Obviously, the lovesick fool greatly admired women, ceaselessly shouting his love for them at any opportunity. But he had met many a man like that who still sought to warm his bed- and Sanji was... well, Sanji . His simple existence riles Zoro up like no other. And why does it matter to him what the shitty cook’s preferences are anyways? OR Zoro secretely learns French to understand Sanji. Because that’s obviously the easiest way to learn if the cook likes men.

Did You Know Marimo Came In Pink? by wiillowwriites - Rated T

After some some accidental tickling turns into something very intentional, Sanji’s the first of the two to notice that Zoro seems to be enjoying himself. Zoro isn’t quite sure what to do with the realization, but Sanji has an idea.

waiting by tinyjet7 - Rated G

zoro watches sanji hand out treats to everyone but him.

Ink by BleuReivers - Rated T

He’d gotten the first one for no reason other than he’d simply wanted it. Had ever since he’d first laid eyes on one of the cook’s ink during his Baratie days. It had taken him a while to actually get it and for a while he’d been convinced he never would. But, as the years went on and he crossed paths with more and more people who bore elaborate and, honestly, beautiful tattoos, the desire grew until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

ham and rice by hailure - Rated G

"I'll get that bastard gets all the food he wants and then more. You don't need to forfeit your protein serving for that." "Oh, now I get it." Zoro's face turned mischievious, his nose bridge tinted with red now that the alcohol was briefly kicking in. "You're worried about me." After their victory in Wano, Sanji is not amused that Zoro just can't seem to eat properly.

Here’s To Us by TextlessNovel - Rated T

In which sharing a drink can tear down walls in a way that Sanji and Zoro never expected.

[bidisastersanji]

It's Sunday night so why not read part 3/3 of "Zoro gets lost because he uses the red string of fate like a compass" ? Part 1 here, part 2 here, ao3 here Hope you guys like it ;)

Sanji is being weird. Ever since that day on Thriller Bark, he’s definitely been avoiding him, only interacting with him when strictly necessary (to feed him), never making eye contact for too long, and leaving as quickly as he came. 

Shitty cook. What’s his fuckin’ deal? 

Zoro lets it sit for a couple of days, too injured to move out of the infirmary or to do anything about it anyways, before he comes up with a potential reason for the cook’s strange behaviour. It must be because of the self-sacrifice thing. It can’t be because of that... other thing, he muses. 

Back at the Baratie, when they’d first met, Zoro could immediately tell that Sanji didn’t know. The blonde couldn’t see it, or feel it...nothin’. It was painfully obvious. (It didn’t make him feel hollow at all!) So, he hadn’t said anything- what would’ve been the point? It wasn’t like it mattered to him either way: his goal was already fixed. Become the world’s greatest swordsman. Then, maybe look for the person tied to his soul. 

He didn’t expect to meet them so soon. 

He also didn’t expect for him to come aboard and join the crew. Sure, the ridiculous moron grew on him much faster than he expected, and he took great satisfaction from having someone of comparable strength look over their crew with him, someone who could handle him, his power, his ambition, his rough edges and biting words. He wouldn’t deny that. But he also hated how the proximity made his little...navigation problem way worse. 

Learning that Sanji grew up on a moving restaurant in the East Blue certainly explained why the thread moved around so much. Being on the same boat, however, brought the realisation that the closer they were to each other, the more the thread moved- and when living in such close quarters, stuck on a ship, the thread was constantly bobbing around as the cook moved around his kitchen, the pantry, the bridge, happily serving freshly prepared meals and snacks to his crewmates. 

If there was one good use that he got out of this, it's that he could always find the best time to sneak some booze from the kitchen- the red string a reliable indicator of Sanji being busy elsewhere. The downside was, of course, all the teasing his nakama, especially that witch Nami, made him endure. And it’s not like he could even reciprocate the teasing the day her tattoo turned the exact shade of a certain Miss Wednesday’s hair. He couldn’t risk his debt going up. 

Even when off the ship, Zoro’s sense of direction had never been as comically bad before. Using the red thread to move around was like breathing to him, and it constantly caught his eye, getting him lost- even in the midst of battle- going up the wrong stairs, running off in the wrong direction, finding himself in the most unlikely of places because the damn cook wouldn’t. stop. moving. Around. (Somewhere in his mind, Zoro was aware that he couldn’t expect Sanji to not move- he just was oh so tired of getting lost.) 

He noticed that Sanji never had problems finding him. Zoro’s chest felt light whenever he did. He didn’t linger on it. 

His chest feels anything but light now that Sanji is avoiding him like the plague. 

Strong enough to stand after a few days’ rest, Zoro follows the red thread to the galley. He pushes the door open and catches the sweet smell of Sanji’s stress baking. Of course. 

“I’m not giving you booze, marimo.” Sanji doesn’t look up from behind the counter, hands meticulously working to decorate whatever baked goods he’s whipped up today. 

“’m not here for booze, cook.” 

“Then get the hell out of my kitchen, it’s not lunchtime yet.” 

Zoro regards him cooly, standing between the counter and the dining table, and waits for him to look up. He has time. 

“...You gonna stand here all day, shithead?” 

“Mn.” 

Sanji sighs and meets his gaze with an affronted look, hands finally stilling in his decorating. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Zoro’s not one to beat around the bush. “Is this about what happened with Kuma?” 

Sanji stays silent, absentmindedly worrying his lower lip. 

“Look, I’m never gonna apologise for knockin’ you out and doing what I did- especially since everything turned out ok in the end. The crew couldn’t lose you, curls. This was my burden to bear. How can we move past this-” 

His blue eyes look furious, like burning ice. “We can’t,” he bites out. Sanji reaches for his cigarettes, soothing himself with the familiar motion of placing it between his lips. It wobbles as he speaks. “And the fuck do you even mean, they couldn’t lose me- they can’t lose you, dumbass. You still have to beat Mihawk and become the greatest, right?” 

Zoro sighs, tuning the cook out a bit as he nags him. Why Sanji can never see his own value, his importance to the crew, to him, he doesn’t know. He knows it’s not something he can fix with just a few words. 

“Why would you even,” Sanji starts losing his words from his frustration. His thumb and forefinger pinch his cigarette and he waves it around angrily. “you silly moss- I can’t understand you!” 

“That’s my line. Why did you try to take my place? Spoutin’ all that bullshit about finding another cook, huh?” 

Sanji blanches, mouthing silent words as he looks for a way to answer Zoro’s question. His visible eye flits to Zoro’s hand on his chest. The swordsman notices. 

“Y-you wouldn’t understand...” his face contorts painfully, brow furrowed. 

Zoro takes it all in. Where he’s looking, the way he’s been acting strange...it was more than what happened on Thriller Bark, then. “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?” 

“Not really, no.” 

“All right. Then why don’t I let you in on a little secret.”  

Zoro’s face is impassible as ever, and the cook seems intrigued.  

“...sure, why the hell not.” Then, to break the tension, “You gonna tell me the secret to your ridiculous hair colour?” 

“Better. ‘m gonna tell you why I get lost all the time.” 

“...so you are self-aware. Good job, marimo. Maybe next you’ll figure out basic hygiene.” Sanji’s jeer doesn’t mask how intently he’s waiting for Zoro to reveal his secret. 

The swordsman comes closer to the counter, placing his forearms and hands on the cool granite. Sanji’s eye follows the movement and seems to linger on the thread before returning to meet his own. This helps steel the swordsman in his decision. 

“You see, the reason I get turned around and lost is ‘cause I don’t navigate like most folk do. Growing up, I relied on my inner compass, and it worked just fine- I could always tell where North was, back then. No matter where I was.” 

“What changed?” 

“My north started movin’ around,” he huffs. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Yeah, didn’t make sense to me either. But then my friend told me that the red string on my finger wasn’t a compass.” 

From how close they’re standing; Zoro hears Sanji’s breath hitch. He grins and brings his hand up from the counter, wiggling his pinky. 

“Y-you can see it?” Sanji’s face is twisted with shock and confusion. 

“Always have.” 

“But then why- why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Could tell that you didn’t see it too. Didn’t wanna make a fuss.”  

Sanji’s mouth opens on an inhale- ready to retort, but Zoro cuts him off before he gets the chance. “Think, cook. How would’ve you had reacted if I’d told you?” 

That shuts him up. Head slightly hanging, his unlit cigarette is in pieces, wrung out by his nervous hands. 

Always a contrarian, Zoro feels calm, his chest now warm and light like bread fresh from the oven. He can feel his lips stretch into a lazy smile despite himself. The shitty cook can see it. He can see the thread. It’s a start. 

“Sanji.” 

His blue eyes are cloudy, distant, deep in thought, and it takes him a few seconds to realise that swordsman said his name. His actual name. Zoro’s chest feels a little tight at the cute blush that dusts his cheeks, spreading to his ears. Tempers the urge to tease him about it, watch it deepen. He should probably say the important stuff first, do what he came here to do in the first place. 

“I won’t apologise for Thriller Bark because I'm selfish. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Zoro prefers to speak with actions, not words, and he hopes that this action was loud enough. 

Listen, cook. Please listen. 

Sanji ponders his words for a moment, eyes searching his face with an intensity that keeps Zoro rooted to the spot. Under his crisp white button up, his chest rises and falls with a deep, deep sigh. He seems to come to a decision, and Zoro can’t deny his sweaty palms are itching to fidget with his earrings as he watches Sanji join him on his side of the counter. His footsteps suddenly feel quite loud, the light a bit too bright- but Zoro keeps his face schooled in a neutral expression and turns to face his crewmate. 

The thread is short, now, their bodies, close.  

“You won’t apologise.” 

Zoro shakes his head no. 

“Then you better be ready to make it up to me your whole life, you shitty marimo.” 

I hear you. 

Zoro’s heart beats like war drums, victorious and bold and indomitable, blood racing, making his body sizzle with restless energy. He watches in awe as Sanji’s hand- the one with a delicately corded red rope tied to the pinky- reaches for his own, interlocking their hands between them. It looks nice, the red string bright and proud against their skins’ neutral tones. Evidence of their unique bond. 

His face must be saying something because Sanji looks handsomely mischievious, pearly whites peeking out from an idiotic grin. 

“So, you’re gonna kiss me or what?” 

Zoro doesn’t need to be asked twice, and for once, does as Sanji says. 

[heartfullofleeches]

Zombie God Reader-

Dazed and barely conscious, you wake up after going to a party you didn't even want to attend with a killer headache - and your teeth on the floor. You scramble to the bathroom, come to find that every denture was still in place. A voice in the back of your skull mocks your panic. Just what did you take last night? As the evening's events unfold, you learn that everyone at that party is either dead or missing. That "voice" is the remnants of a decaying God who's blood you consumed from an infected glass of bunch. It tells you the only know cure is to eat another humans flesh, and that's only temporary. You have the choice of clinging to what little humanity you have left by commenting one of the most heinous acts known or giving your body and mind to this ancient deity. Your thoughts deteriorate by the day and you... wait....what are you eating? it hurts..stop that. STOP-

Who would've guessed your terrible diet would be the one force capable of stoping a world ending horror from devouring your brain?

You're eventually scouted out by the cult members at that party. They commend you for holding on this long, but you'll succumb soon enough. They always do. Unfortunately, none of the other candidates they've chosen have survived or kept as much of a physical form as you. Was your will that strong to resist their lord's presence and influence like that? They plan to kidnap you to see how your brain works. Maybe you will be the only host they need. As luck would go, they try to capture you on one of your off days. You ambush their leader and beat them half to death. They're uncaring of their fate as someone else will take their role. Your teeth close around their neck and.... And...

"...nh...n...o."

No. You climb off their battered body and tied your jacket around their twisted ankle before sprinting off. The others ask what happened and they..don't know. They watch you closer. You become something else in their eyes. A survivor. A fighter. You are not their god. You are its rebirth - killing off the disease that was once their idol. They band their members to praise you as you are and slaughter those who oppose. They offer you home cooked meals with bits of their flesh and blood baked inside to help you in your battle. They sneak micro doses of the god's cells to further your ascension. You just want to go home and eat fast food and nearly expired goods from cans.

Crackpost under cut

-

[Zombie God Reader being held at bay by three cult members when a fourth runs up to them with a severed arm in their hands. Reader kicks them square in the face and flails around like a bat out of hell]

Yan Cultist: What in the nine circles are you doing? We don't do that shit anymore! When you kill someone for our master, you throw the body away! Hurry up and get some frozen pizzas. We can't hold them off much longer.

-

Dying God: Help me, my child. Once I am reborn, I can make your wildness dreams a reality.

Yan Cultist, staring at Reader wearing a muzzle as rabid foam drips from their mouth as they snarl: Believe me.... They already are.

-

"What can I get you today?!"

Dying God: Flesh.

Zombie God Reader: burger

Dying God: Human Flesh, you moron!

Zombie God Reader: Three burgers

[starmocha]

Part 2 of me yapping about bird men is coming, it's in my drafts, but uhhhhh.....I also want to yap about the other two men in my heart (aka I clearly have a type and it's "I'm just a soft baby that wants to be taken care of instead for once in her goddamned life and these men are more than ready to take on that task") 👉👈

[if anyone wants to read part 1 of me yapping about Gavin and Sylus, here ya go]

Victor (Mr. Love Queen's Choice), aka Daddy

CEO of a large investment and financial company (Loveland Financial Group (LFG))

Birthday: January 13 (Capricorn)

183 cm

Evol: Time control

Flower motifs are red roses (love, passion, beauty; burgundy roses can also mean commitment)

Animal motifs are panda bears. During his childhood, for his birthday, his father even adopted a panda at a zoo in his name

Associated with winter because he was born in the winter lol

Tall, dark, and snarky af

Perceived as cold, stoic, serious...but he is a softie with you

Highly respected in his field

Grinded through school so he could begin his career early

Workaholic

Childhood friend of MC...but it's complicated...

Gourmet chef. Man even opened a secret restaurant he sometimes cook at whenever he fancies (key note: the restaurant is only opened whenever he's in the mood...and it's insanely popular too).

Will cook anything MC craves, and even knows ahead of time, so he has everything prepared in advance.

Calls you Dummy (affectionate). Sometimes adds in a "moron" or "fool" to shake things up a little bit ig 😀

Scolds MC a lot, but he loves taking care of her, too.

When he loves, he loves deeply 😩🫶

Believes in you, will guide you when you need his assistance or advice, but overall, he wants you to believe in yourself and trust your own judgment

Zayne (Love and Deepspace), aka Zaddy

Chief cardiac surgeon

Birthday: September 5 (Virgo)

186 cm

Evol: Ice

Flower motifs are jasmine (love, sensuality, beauty)

Not explicitly official, but Zayne is sometimes associated with seals due to a childhood incident with MC.

Associated with winter because of his Evol

Tall, dark, and snarky af

Perceived as cold and serious, but is a total softie with you

Highly respected in his field

Grinded through school to begin his career early

Workaholic

Childhood friend of MC....and I guess it was also lowkey complicated, too

Average home cook, but we love to see that 🫶

Tries to learn recipes MC shows interests in. Does his best to perfect the recipe so he can cook for her.

Doesn't really have a pet name for you (yet), but I make him call me Darling and it heals me immensely 💕

Chides MC frequently, but it's also because he loves taking care of her and looks out for her.

He will be vulnerable for you, he will tell you how much he loves you, what it does to him, how you are healing for him. He loves holding hands, the feel of your hand in his. Pls caress his face, let him feel you, it's all he wants, all he needs. ZAYNE'S VULNERABILITY IS HIS SEXIEST QUALITY I'LL DIE ON THIS FUCKING HILL i just love zayne so fucking much pls love him too ok is this also me realizing zayne is touch-starved like me asklsa;;;sk

Believes in you, but worries about you, too, even if he knows you are capable. He can't help it. He just wants you to be healthy and safe, and not having that 100% certainty kills him inside. 🥺

THEY LOVE CATS. BIG SOFTIES. Victor is also a cat dad to one named Pudding and it's adorable af. If Zayne's career isn't so demanding, I would also say give this man a cat, too, but we know he wouldn't want to take on responsibilities he couldn't give his 100% to. 🥺

This brand of spicy is top-notch. Absolute elite shit 🤌 god me and who fucking when???

Head empty. Just long-haired Victor and Zayne to heal my tired soul 😩🫶

I like them for their personalities. 10/10 would recommend. 😀

[olderthannetfic]

As someone who's college age: yeah, there's a TON of people my age who don't know how things work and don't try to learn. Can't unzip a zip file, want to know where to download anime but haven't tried looking it up, ask things on subreddits a Google search or quick search on the wiki would answer, ask questions answered in FAQs or by professors or in the syllabus, say they can't download and install a new browser or app or program because they don't know how and they never think to look up how to do so, go months without logging into their student email because no one explained to them how to do so and they never thought to ask anyone how to do it, go months without washing their laundry because they don't know how and they also don't know how to look up instructions on how to do it, don't know how to cook and can't Google a recipe so they throw things in a pan and pray it works out, don't understand how to back up files, don't know how to attach a pdf to an email to send to a professor, cannot manage to put stuff on a USB drive + go to the library + print it off of the library computer, etc.

I spent most of freshman year teaching people things. The year after, my patience got more frayed and "Google it" started coming out of my mouth a lot more. This last year I gave up and now if people fuck themselves over, that's their decision. I'm not going to stand there begging people to do basic things they should already know how to do.

It was really funny when someone from Career Services came to talk to us about resumes and said we didn't need to put down 'can use Microsoft Excel' on there because everyone knew that and all but three people said actually no, they didn't. People who are 40+ really think we're all good at tech by default, like we fall out of the womb clutching a little phone already making spreadsheets in Excel or coding computers or whatever.

Meanwhile in reality you see a ton of people posting on tumblr going, "How do I post fic on tumblr?" whose blogs proudly state that they're under 18. The thought that you could just type into a Word doc and then copy and paste onto here never hits. And it's not going to.

I hate to break it to millennials and older people but yeah, actually, my generation does in fact have morons. We're not a moron-free demographic. I'm pretty sure moron-free demographics don't exist, tbh.

--

It infuriates me that my father (in his 80s) is always saying to me that he needs to find a 12-year-old to explain his tech to him. I (40s) keep telling him it's more like a bell curve or something. We had a blip of people being taught in school or having their asses kicked about technology. But then it went away again.

I think we made computers and then phones much more accessible, which is great, but we forgot we still need to teach people things. I know not everyone got explicit instruction in school even in my era, but it seems like the US, at least, phased some of that out as we started assuming The Youth automatically knew it all.

That said... in my day, college freshmen were also terrible about doing their laundry, so some things never change.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

This idea came to me as I was watching Below Deck! Carmy as a yacht chef and reader is the chief stew. Enemies to lovers vibes!

Below Deck

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem! Reader

Warnings: language, semi public kissing, angst

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 3.1k

“Alright chef, what do we have here?”

I inquired, my eyes glazing over the vast array of delectable dishes.

“We’ve made kobe steaks with a demi-glace. And creamy pesto shrimp.”

I nodded.

“Hm. Looks good.”

I twisted my head to meet Carmen's gaze, hands on my hips. Carmen and I hadn’t exactly seen eye to eye throughout the duration of our employment on this yacht. However, I am impressed with his efforts thus far. I can only hope and pray that he does not give me an excuse to become irritated.

“What are you thinking of making for the vegetarian option?”

Carmen cocked an eyebrow.

“The pesto shrimp.”

There you have it. He just gave me a reason to be annoyed.

“Carmen, shrimp isn’t vegetarian.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Nah, shrimp is vegetarian.”

My face grew hot with rage.

“Carmen, shrimp is pescatarian!”

Carmen cocked an eyebrow. My jaw dropped. Was he being serious?

“Oh. My. God.”

I rubbed my eyes. My day has already been challenging. The last thing I needed was for this moron to ruin the excellent system I had set up.

“Carmen, we have close to fifty guests on this yacht that don’t eat meat or fish!”

I looked at my watch. My jaw dropped. Time was ticking away, and dinner for fifty guests had yet to be prepared.

“Shit. Dinner is supposed to be served in 45 minutes.”

I muttered under my breath. I wiped my brow with my hand, trying to keep my cool in front of his kitchen staff. If we were alone, he would feel the full force of my rage.

“You need to make a completely new dish with no meat and no shellfish in 45 minutes.”

Carmen's eyes narrowed. He had absolutely no reason to be upset with me. It is not my fault that he does not understand the distinction between a pescatarian and a vegetarian..

“I don’t know if I-”

“Carmen.”

I said sternly, cutting him off.

“You screwed up, and now you have to fix this. I expect fifty plates of a brand new vegetarian dish in 45 minutes. I don’t care how the hell you get it done, but it needs to be done, and it needs to taste amazing.”

Carmen gritted his teeth.

“Yknow, Y/N, I’m getting real sick of this fuckin’ shit.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration.

“Sick of what shit?! You messed up, not me! It’s not my fault you’re a complete idiot who doesn’t know the difference between a pescatarian and a vegetarian!”

Carmen took a step forward, decreasing the gap between us.

“Not just this, you’ve been out to fuckin’ get me the entire time I’ve been on this goddamn boat! I’m sick of your attitude, and I’m sick of you praying for my fuckin’ downfall!”

He repeatedly thrust his finger at me, emphasizing his exasperation. I stood my ground, not faltering.

"Look," I said, moving in closer to whisper. The soft clanging of pots and pans stopped as the majority of the kitchen staff listened intently to our conversation.

“I’m sorry that I won’t sit here and kiss your ass. You’ve been screwing up. When you do things, you do them extremely well. But you need to learn how to listen. I won’t pretend you’re amazing if you’re not.”

Carmen's tough exterior had cracked just enough to show his discomfort.

“I am not praying for your downfall, but if you don’t start listening, I won’t hesitate to find someone else.”

Carmen sighed with aggravation.

“You’re a royal fucking bitch, y’know that?”

I waved my hand through the air, dismissing his previous comment.

“You can think I’m a bitch all you want. It doesn’t change the fact that we need fifty vegetarian dishes in-”

I checked my watch.

“40 minutes. If I were you, I’d stop wasting time and get cooking, alright? I’m not gonna sit here and let you make me look bad.”

Carmen locked his gaze on mine. The tension in the air was palpable. This was a competition. A competition I was most definitely not losing. He held my gaze. Time passed at an agonizingly slow pace. But I was not fazed. He eventually realized the jig was up. Carmen sighed deeply, his gaze rapidly shifting away from mine.

“Alright chefs!”

He called out to his staff.

“We need fifty vegetarian dishes in the next forty minutes. I wanna hear some ideas and see some seriously good shit being made!”

I smiled, pleased that I had won the battle. I stepped onto the deck, ready to greet the yacht's numerous guests. The rest of the day was a blur.

The number of times I heard, "Y/N, have you done this yet?"

“Y/N, I need this done right now!”

“Y/N, I need this.”

“Y/N, I need that!”

“Y/N, where’s the owner?”

By the end of the day, my head felt like it was going to explode. I had heard my name so frequently that by the time I was given a break, it irritated me.

I found a secluded area of the dock away from the party's hustle and bustle. I sat in one of the lounge chairs, resting not only my body but my mind as well. I rubbed my temples, trying to work out the various knots that had formed in my brain.

I cast my eyes out onto the breathtaking South Pacific. Wow. What a luxury it would be if I was free from work! What a wonderful life I would have if my only goal was to gaze out onto this beautiful water and drink fruity little drinks with a handsome man by my side.

But, alas, here I am, enjoying my brief respite before the owner summons me.

“What are you doin’ out here?”

My heart leaped. I turned around to reveal the source of the voice, Carmen Berzatto. He stood there with a smug expression on his face, his white chef's apron splattered with various stains.

“What, did Claire not give you enough shit to do?”

He asked, pulling a box of cigarettes from the pocket of his apron. I rolled my eyes.

“She said I could take a break while the guests enjoyed their dinner.”

Carmen popped a cigarette into his mouth.

“Don’t you have to make dessert soon?”

I inquired, hoping to provide an excuse for him to leave. He hummed, cupping his hand around the butt of the cigarette to keep the lighter's flame from blowing out.

“Nah. When dinner’s almost over, I’ll start cooking something up. So, I reckon I got about thirty to forty five minutes?”

The cigarette bounced between his lips as he spoke.

“Did you come out here just to annoy me?”

Carmen scoffed, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his inked forearms. I could not help but glaze my eyes over the various tattoos. I wonder if they have any significance.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I came out here because I knew it would be quiet.”

I sighed with exasperation.

“I did as well. I suppose I thought wrong.”

He glanced at me.

“I whipped something together for the vegetarians.”

I nodded.

“Good.”

Carmen scoffed with annoyance.

“No need to thank me.”

Carmen chuckled, taking a long drag of his cigarette before removing it and blowing the cloud of smoke into the crystal clear air. I rolled my eyes.

“I shouldn’t have to thank you after you did what you’re being paid to do. Maybe if you listened and did everything right the first time, I would thank you for your efficiency. But I’m not going to thank you for stressing me out and nearly making me look like a disorganized moron.”

Carmen gritted his teeth.

“Well, Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Y/N, at least give me a little credit! I worked my fuckin’ ass off and prepared fifty vegetarian dishes in forty minutes with no recipe!”

He stated firmly. He would be shouting if his volume rose a few decibels.

“I mean, would it fuckin’ kill you to lose your bitch tendencies for a couple seconds and say thank you?!”

Carmen was flailing his hands around, wisps of smoke trailing the end of his cigarette.

I clenched my teeth. I was so enraged that steam was escaping from my ears. I was tempted to speak. But I was afraid of what might come out. So I simply bit my tongue and averted my gaze.

Instead, I observed the guests rushing around the lower deck. I watched them drink, eat, and laugh. I imagined what they were discussing.

Perhaps the dapper, older gentleman in the blue suit had just returned from his daughter's wedding..

Maybe the young blonde lady in the red dress had a fantastic date last week.

Perhaps the middle-aged man with the big cigar just sold his company.

I tried to push Carmen away from my thoughts. Maybe if I pretended he was not there, he would leave when he realized he was not getting a rise out of me.

“Y’know, it’s unfortunate,” he began.

I jerked my head around to face him. His cigarette had been reduced to a mere inch.

“What is?”

I inquired.

“You’re an attractive lady. You’ve got a drive and passion I admire. You know how to handle yourself.”

He dropped his cigarette, crushing it beneath his shoe.

“I feel like we could be good friends.”

I scoffed loudly.

“Yeah, right, literally all we’ve done so far is butt heads and yell at each other-”

“Alright, alright, so we don’t work well together. But I think, given the right circumstances, we could get along.”

I considered it for a moment. Carmen was undeniably attractive. I also admired his zeal. And, according to what I have heard through the grapevine, he was very respectful of his entire kitchen staff.

“Is this a strange, roundabout way of asking me on a date?”

Carmen shrugged, placing his hands on his hips.

“If I asked, would you accept?”

I shouldn’t. There is no logical explanation as to why I would accept. I hate him. We’ve been quarreling the entire time we’ve been on this ship.

“Yes.”

Carmen cracked a grin.

“Well, then, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

I nodded.

“I think I would like that very much.”

I patted the empty lounge chair across from me.

“Care to sit?”

Carmen accepted.

It was very easy to get sucked into the bustle of the yacht during the day. It was so simple to dismiss Carmen as a person with feelings and instead view him solely as a body hired to complete a task. However, I felt sorry for him after witnessing him in such a private setting.

“Hey, um-I’m sorry I called you an idiot earlier.”

“It’s all good. Don’t sweat it.”

He looked down at the floor.

“I’m-uh-I’m sorry for calling you a royal bitch.”

It was now my turn to chuckle.

“It’s all good. I was kind of being a royal bitch.”

Carmen cracked a smirk and shrugged.

“I mean, I was bein’ a bitch too.”

Carmen twiddled his thumbs.

“Sorry, I got so pissed at you. You were just doin’ your job.”

I shrugged nonchalantly.

“It’s all good. You’ve taken care of it, and the guests are happy. That’s all I care about.”

Our close proximity allowed me to study him. I noticed the numerous cuts on his hands, the ink on his arms, and the sheen of sweat on his brow. He smelled like cigarettes and smoke.

I suddenly felt overdressed in my blazer and heels. I should be wearing a swimsuit and holding a refreshing drink. He should be the one who overdresses. He should be walking along the deck of his yacht in a white button-up and black dress pants, like a true rich man. The sun should feel pleasurable on my bare skin. Instead, I felt hot and suffocated beneath layers of fancy clothing.

I noticed a food speck on his face. Perhaps some sauce. I cupped his face in my hand, rubbing the stain away with my thumb.

Carmen seized. His face grew hot under my touch. I barely noticed, as my brow was furrowed in concentration.

Before I could completely remove the speck, he began to lean in.

I drew back abruptly, my breath catching in my throat.

My heartbeat quickened.

My cheeks turned bright red.

My jaw dropped to the floor.

Was he trying to kiss me?!

A look of realization wafted over Carmen.

“Oh-oh my God, I’m so sorry! Holy shit, I thought you were trynna kiss me!”

Oh my God. He thought-

“Oh! No, no, no no no. I was just trying to get rid of some food on your face!”

Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ah! Shit I’m sorry!”

I shook my head, dismissing his apologies.

“You’re fine! You’re totally fine! It was my fault.”

Despite the gentle sound of birds and the bustle of people on the lower deck, an awkward silence ensued. Blush was painfully visible on both of our cheeks. Clearly, we both wanted to forget the discomfort that had just occurred. We didn’t even dare look each other in the eyes.

Then, once the silence had lingered, the mood shifted.

We both sensed it.

We exchanged glances, our demeanors tinged with lust.

I could sense the desire swimming in his eyes.

I straightened my back, hoping to calm the butterflies in my lower abdomen.

Carmen and I cocked our heads to the side, peering into the little living area to ensure no one was loitering as we were easily visible through the sliding glass door.

We locked eyes.

His pupils were now blown out with lust, and only a faint circle of blue could be seen.

“Do-”

I gulped.

“Do you think anyone will see us?”

I whispered.

Carmen shrugged.

“Maybe.”

He spoke in hushed tones.

Whatever.

I practically leapt on him as we locked lips. The tension had been broken. As I straddled his waist, I could feel blood rushing in my ears. My heartbeat quickened to the point where distinct pumps could barely be made out.

I’ve never been this worked up over a man in my life.

Carmen's hands reached my waist. He pulled me closer till there was no more room between us. I sighed deeply into his lips, allowing my rigid form to loosen.

I was a sensible woman.

I never took unnecessary risks.

And I certainly wasn’t one to put my job on the line just so I could make out with the head chef.

But Jesus, there was something about Carmen.

There was something so arousing about how taboo this whole situation was.

He made me want to be so… bad.

I threw my arms around his shoulders, tugging him impossibly closer as his tongue slipped past my teeth. It was instantly a battle for dominance. We were two incredibly passionate people. It wasn’t in our nature to fold.

“God, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this.”

He mumbled sexily against my lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve fantasized about having you on top of me.”

My stomach fluttered. I wonder if he ever thought about me in bed, long after we fought. I wonder if he allowed his calloused fingers to slip below the waistband of his boxers.

I ran my nails along his scalp, eliciting a whimper from the back of his throat.

God, he was sexy.

I shifted my weight slightly atop his lap. My clothed core brushed against his erection. I groaned involuntarily, my hips instantly searching for more friction.

“You make me so hard.”

It wasn't just the heat of the day that was making me sweat. Carmen’s hands traveled toward the waistband of my dress pants.

“Please,” he groaned with desperation, “please, I wanna make you feel good.”

I desperately wanted to throw off all of my stupid fancy clothes and feel the sun on my skin while I rode him like my life depended on it. But, alas, I knew it was neither the right place, nor the right time.

“Carmen, I have to get back to work.”

I uttered between heated kisses.

“Later, though, I promise.”

I climbed off him.

Jesus, bad idea to make out with someone in the middle of a shift. Now, I was uncomfortably wet and far too aroused to finish my day with a clear head.

Well, I suppose that’s the price I pay for throwing every ounce of sensibility out the window.

“What time is it?”

Carmen asked, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure.

I checked my watch. My jaw dropped.

Man, my time management skills were awful today.

“Holy shit it’s been half an hour! Your staff is probably wondering where the hell you’ve been!”

Carmen shot up, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

“Oh my God I still have to make fuckin’ dessert for everyone!”

Although I am all for getting things done on time. Carmen could not go back to work with…

“Y’know, I would advise, um-maybe, going to the bathroom.”

My eyes shot back and forth between his erection and his eyes. Carmen glanced down, immediately getting the memo.

“Shit! Shit, I don’t have fuckin’ time for this!”

I placed my hands on his shoulders to keep him from getting too worked up.

“It’s okay! Just take a deep breath. I’ll tell them you’re dealing with a family emergency or something!”

Carmen shook his head rapidly.

“No, shit! I’m already behind schedule.”

He shrugged my hands off his shoulders.

“I really have to get to the kitchen Y/N.”

He began to walk away, but I grasped his shoulders, spinning his body back around to face me.

“Well, would you rather explain to your staff why you’re late, or why you’re hard.”

Carmen stalled, running his tongue over his lips.

“Yeah, on second thought that’s a good point… alright, we’ll go with your plan.”

I gave him a nod of approval. He turned to leave. But, before entering the small living area, he flipped back to face me.

“Hey, remember to find me later Y/N!”

He shouted.

I recalled our brief, yet passionate moment on the lounge chair. A grin spread slowly over my face.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t forget!”

[blacklegsanjiii]

Some hcs about ASL x S! Of course, if you don't mind

• Even if the ASL brothers loved food, I think they just noticed how hard cooking was after seeing Sanji cook. How some recipes need hours and hours, how even a little mistake can spoil all the food, how that don't matter how good you are cooking, accidents still happen and Sanji end up with some cuts and burns. Sometimes Sanji even needing to put bandages in his hands.

• I believe most times ASL and Garp go at Baratie, the restaurant is closed or Zeff closes it when they arrive. So they never saw all the chaos that Baratie is on common days. I can perfectly see a time where the restaurant docks at Foosha and ASL go see their boyfriend, but Baratie is open and he's working. So they sit and don't have other option than just wait. It's crazy for them how Sanji manages to go between being a waiter and a cook, take down various customer orders and remember what food go at what table, carry twenty-odd dishes at once, and still having just a fifteen minutes break.

• This hc is more for Fem!Sanji, but I believe that Sanji was taught that she should be a lady, always with a smile and sweet personality. And while she IS this way naturally, she isn't just this. So I believe that, after Germa, she would still hide half of herself as a way to protect her. The more you knows her, the more she shows all of her. And I can see Sanji freely acting like a little shit while with ASL because she trusts them, even more after dating. They don't notice this until someone point this, maybe Makino, and after noticing they just start to help her show who she is in full.

ASL x S has taken over this blog in veins similar to when Warlord!Sanji first happened which is fine by me. Get this man some love!

I feel like if Sanji was dating them when he was learning how to butcher things they would see him constantly with bandages on his hands. Burns from morons not telling him hot pans as well as his own dumb mistakes. Sanji shows them some basic recipes and how to cook more effectively on a fire and burning himself. He stares dejectedly at the fire and with an 'et tu, brute' attitude as he continues on like nothing bad happened. Sanji fucks something up and sighs as he apologizes at the inedibility of it but his boyfriends scarf it down regardless. Sanji is used to his boyfriends forgoing taste for edibility on more than one occasion unless Sanji absolutely demands they do not eat something for fear of poisoning them all.

One time The Baratie is docked on Foosha with normal business hours, not closing due to the boyfriends or Garp coming to eat, ASL go to surprise their boyfriend but instead find an absolute shitshow of a rush. Waiters are scrambling and there's a lot of yelling from the back kitchen and those who know ASL tell them they don't have time for them today. Sanji will be out if he's awake after close. There's just too much happening and not enough staff and they're fucking swamped. Then Sanji joins in on waiting tables because there's not enough waiters and he's going back and forth in a chef coat from waiting tables to cooking and he's so loud. The way he yells 'behind', 'to your left/right' 'hot' with a projection they've only ever heard from Garp of all people is rattling. They sit and watch through the rush until close and join in on cleaning up, mostly Sabo makes Ace and Luffy join in because they've never cleaned a day in their life but the staff is grateful and Zeff does make them something to eat with the staff of Baratie. Of course everyone is so wiped out that Ace carries Sanji to his room and he's out before they're even halfway there. Sabo and Ace are debating on getting Sanji changed when Luffy just lays on top of him and falls asleep making it impossible to change their boyfriend, so of course they pile on top as well.

Okay now Fem!Sanji being a shit. This has to be accurate. Being raised a princess and then as Zeff's daughter has to make perfectly lady like but also...look at the men she's around on the Baratie. She's pulled some shit and always gets away with it because she's Zeff's darling daughter, she would never do anything like choke Patty with his own socks, never! ASL know what she's like though, she's a gremlin like them, not as feral but definitely a gremlin. Makino has definitely seen the attitude shift from when Zeff is gone and she's free and clear to not have to worry about getting in trouble for getting dirty and acting like a child. She's free with them. Makino probably brings it up to them at some point, the way Sanji morphs from Zeff's princess to jungle gremlin like them, she's absolutely fond of the girl and it's clear in her voice, but they pay closer attention after that, or at least try to. Sanji doesn't like getting dirty or bugs but she loves climbing and swimming in the river and doing dumb shit with her boyfriends. Maybe they try to get her to be more brash and open, but she's still theirs. Always will be.

[euphietea]

Respite.

Shoei Baroi. fluff. cw. implied mental health struggles. alcohol use.

You rest your cheek on the broad muscle of his shoulder, watching the lights pass by as you leave the city. They streak your vision like meteorites burning in orbit. Barou was a responsible driver, considerate of the weight you add to his cruiser. The tires of the bike surf along a gentle current rather than navigate rubble-studded streets like most riders do.

You shift in the leather prison that is his old riding jacket. It is sweltering outside and the humid summer only just began to cool with the transition into twilight. He still insisted on wearing leather regardless, Mr. Safety as always. He looks so good in riding gear anyway, so you don’t complain. He even insists you wear the leather prison hand-me-down despite your protests.

“Don’t be a fucking moron,” he growled, throwing the jacket into your arms moments before leaving his apartment. A man of action more than words, but you could read him clearly when he spoke: ‘please be safe.’

You stroke the cherry-wine leather along his obliques, adoring the smooth suede texture over the curve of his muscle. If something were to happen – if the bike ever fishtailed out of control – he would never forgive himself if he didn’t dress you up in protective gear. He cared more than you could ever hope for you.

When you met him, you really did think he was a delinquent or some gangster. You asked to kick a soccer ball around and he asked if you were ‘fucking stupid’. You weren’t. You just needed a physical outlet when your skin crawled from the clutter of your apartment. Some how, he obliged and taught you some tactics. Barou never asked about you and you never really asked about him. Every now and again you’d catch each other and decide to kick a ball around.

At first, he really seemed like someone who only gave a shit about himself. Soccer seemed to be the only thing he genuinely cared about or talked about. You asked him what he did for a living one day and that’s when you learned he worked at a bar. It was a little bar that salary men and women frequented. Occasionally, college students would go there and get plastered.

You’d visit him when he worked, and he’d walk you home when you were too drunk to go alone. He never touched you more than he had to in those times – just enough to keep you steady. But like a rat being trained to push a lever, his warm hands were a treat drawing you back each night. You learned that when he wasn’t obsessing over a straight shot, he was a great listener to his customers. You’d see him give water, offer bags of chips, and just quietly listen as the man in a pinstripe suit cried about his lost marriage.

You even unloaded some life woes onto him: You talked about how it was hard to function some days. Work was a lot to handle when you could barely manage to garner energy for the laundry. The world seemed foggy, and you didn’t have a compass. The city was loud and overstimulating. The heat was sticky and drained you of whatever life force you had. Going to the bar and seeing him was pretty much what kept you showering. Barou was appalled by the fact that you would drink nothing but protein shakes and vitamins to keep up sometimes, so he’d just give you food off the menu for free. You even cried about your ex, who apparently hadn’t even thought you were in a relationship!

When all this began, you couldn’t imagine that one day he’d help you clean your grubby apartment (while complaining and lecturing you, of course). He’d help you with laundry and dishes. He’d help you cook and teach you a few cheap recipes that you could microwave. Because he worked out, he’d drop off some vitamins for you when he bought supplements for himself.

Eventually, you two were just... together. Peacefully. Coexisting.

The bike comes to a gentle stop. Barou kicks the bike stand out and swings off. He pulls his helmet off, espresso locks swept around his shoulders. Your gaze softens on him, “You’re so pretty.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. He extends his hand to you, helping you off, “Now close your eyes.”

“Awe, I thought you didn’t like surprises,” you jest with a fake puff of your cheek.

He squishes the air out of your cheeks with just one hand, thumb one the right cheek and the rest on the left, “But you do. So close your eyes, or you’ll spoil it for yourself.”

“Alright, alright. Feisty tonight!” With a laugh, you close your eyes. The familiar hold of his fingers around your shoulders melts you to your core. You’re guided away from the side of the road and down a little hill, “Shoei, where are we—”

“Quit yapping,” he barked, “It’s not far. Watch your step, there’s a branch.”

Soon enough, you both stopped. The city sounds were drowned out by the songs of cicadas. With his permission, you open your eyes.

The soft surface of water spread out across the expanse before you. The reflection of the stars above, seen only miles out from the city, came to greet the earth by the grace of the lake. Surrounded by trees and darkness, the only light was the moon and the colony of fireflies searching for their mates.

You open your mouth, then close it, squeezing your lips together as you bite back the lump in your throat. Everything had been so overwhelming lately. The world, work, keeping up with your own needs. Barou helped you so much, but even with his help, you could fall behind on yourself. But here, it felt still. It was serene. The air was cool now that night overtook the sky and the breeze picked up the lake’s chill.

“Gimme,” Barou’s voice snapped you out of your mind.

“Huh?”

“The jacket. Give it to me,” His fingers gestured to hand the leather demon suit over, “You don’t like wearing it, anyway.”

“I—” You rub your eyes free of the moisture piling at the lashes, “Yeah. It feels gross, and I’m sweaty.”

“Then let’s get it off of you,” Barou tugs the zipper down steadily and peels it from your arms. He folds it neatly and places it on top of the bike seat. You feel his eyes roam your form, dressed in a tank top and shorts. The sweat along the surface of your décolleté radiant with scattered light. He drank you like a finely crafted wine, admiring every little bit that you offered him.

As always, he seldom said how he felt, but you could always tell by the softness of his eyes and the ease at which he kissed you that you were a treasure he would never let go of. You were his gem that he polishes each day for the joy of seeing it shine. When he wipes away your grateful tears with a loose grin, you know for certain that he didn’t just care about soccer.

[beanghostprincess]

Bughawk is soooo underrated and it makes me so sad. Please tell me you see how grand this vision is

I am personally more of a Shuggy/Crocobug shipper but that's mainly because Mihawk isn't doing it for me much?? I love him and his gold autistic eyes staring into my soul and his classy attitude and vampiric looking aesthetic, but I wish he had more screentime to figure out his personality better and enjoy him more. But I do like him! I swear! And tbh one of my favorite ships is Cross Guild, like, the three of them together, even if I have a bit of a preference inside of the trio. I do love them and tbh I think Mihawk and Buggy's relationship would be really funny to explore. Especially within the fanon portrayals of the characters because god forbid Oda gives the cool edgy swordsman more than three minutes of screentime and more than five words per episode.

Okay, so doing a mix between fanon and canon and "whatever the fuck I want to see these characters as because I am the princess of this blog and I can do whatever I want": I think their relationship is fucking hilarious.

Unlike with Crocodile, Buggy doesn't really know what to do with Mihawk. Crocodile at least is easy to read and he's usually the one to make the first move, but what the fuck is Buggy supposed to do with the swordsman sitting in front of him, legs crossed and staring into his soul like he's about to bite his neck and suck him dry. Scary. And also very hot. But mostly scary. But turns out Mihawk is like, way more peaceful than what he thought. He likes reading. And classical music. And swords in a very weird obsessive way that the clown should not speak about. And not much, honestly. Cooking, too, apparently. Buggy keeps learning new things about him every day and the guy opens up little by little, because even if he's quiet, the very few words he says speak a lot for himself. He's also a fucking sadist and loves teasing Buggy all the time to the point of making him cry of frustration, but, well, when he's good he's really nice to be around <3

They both have history with Shanks. You know the movie "The other woman"? The one about this girl who discovers her boyfriend is married and then becomes besties with the wife and start hating him together? That's the energy I'm getting from this triangle. Stop making Mihawk cry over Shanks not loving him and a past love!! Make him go "Oh. Yes. Red Hair and I had something. Pretty sure he still felt something for you, clown, so I am not happy about that" / "What?! Why would you be angry at me for Shanks' shitty feelings that have absolutely nothing to do with me, by the way, our thing ended years ago when his stupid-" / "No, no. I am referring to him. Moron. I like you" / "You do???'' / "Sometimes. Sort of. Maybe. Your existence confuses me". And then they start dating because nobody can tell me Cross Guild isn't just a poly relationship doing business together.

I think Mihawk likes Buggy because it gives excitement to his boring life and also he's fun to bully. Besides, he's more than what he looks like and he actually has a dream and pirate spirit, so maybe he's not as useless as he used to think. He's still annoying, yes, but oddly comforting. Mihawk can't quite figure out what he wants with this clown, so he just sticks around with him. Buggy is like a chihuahua. A very loud chihuahua. Mihawk is definitely a black cat. They don't match. At all. Not in the slightest. And yet, Mihawk likes his company. And Buggy actually loves seeing all the soft and interesting sides of Mihawk and realize that he's not as scary as he looks like. I mean, he could slice him in half if he wanted to and he's still scary and hot but, y'know, he has a very domestic side that Buggy likes.

Thinking about them being established is pretty sweet because I think Mihawk would like reading out loud to him and Buggy would make the funniest comments about the story. And they would cuddle. And it would be so uncharacteristically soft of them and it's something they only do in private. Crocodile stares at them from the corner of the room and,,, He likes having them there. He's not alone and it's kind of sweet.

Also overprotective Mihawk with Buggy my beloved. In the sense of: He cooks for him because his eating habits suck. He makes him go on walks and do a bit of exercise. He makes him read, too. Listen to music that it's not only commercial pop or circus music or musical/Broadway tunes. He takes care of the clown when he's not bullying him. I think Mihawk treats Buggy like Sharpay Evans treats her dog.

And following the Shanks thing to end this post: Bughawk is really cool because I think it would break Shanks' heart and I love angst.

[marreddream]

Housamo Fic - Two Dog Warriors Walk Into A Cafe

Ding-a ling~

Shinya Tennoji is picking up empty cups and plates from the tables when he sees a small pink and a large brown Therian enter his cafe. Hazelnut strawberry and matcha dark chocolate. They make a rather charming pair, he thinks.

“Oh my, Tanetomo and Yasuyori! It’s so nice to see the two of you again!”

Yasuyori beams. Tanetomo scoffs. 

“We’re just here to use the coupons you gave us. We happened to be close by, so we figured we’d scope your place out.” 

Shinya’s glad to see them, and glad they hadn’t shown up until a good amount of time after the Valentine’s Snowball Fight Shinya had met the two at had passed. Days after an absence of his at the cafe were always busier than normal, to speak nothing of a missed Valentine’s Day shift. 

“Aw, I’m happy to hear that! Yes, see what on the menu you’d like, and order at the front when you’re ready.”

“Shinya Tennoji. I hope for your sake that what you just said was a simple case of you automatically rattling off whatever generic customer greeting phrases first popped into your brain when you saw us, and not you assuming me to be so moronic I never learned how to order from a cafe.”

“Ahaha, it was most definitely a case of the former, Tanetomo.”

“Well, perhaps Yasuyori might have needed the assistance, so good on you for being such a diligent and attentive employee.”

“Counselor! You have seen me function perfectly well at the plenty of other establishments we have been to together before!”

There are some minimally subdued rumblings from the regulars about the fresh faces who have entered the cafe. 

“At least...not fawning…Shinya, but…” “Treat… more respect…holes…” “...think they’re …type?” “… are pretty cute…”

Tanetomo’s ears twitch at the last comment. He does a hair flip and a whimsical 360 degree twirl for the crowd as naturally as he draws breath, which is to say: effortlessly yet with intention, before returning to scanning the menu. 

Taromaiti is at the cash register. She observes this action without judgment or reaction. Hermes isn’t here today, but it’s what you could call a slow day, so Shinya doesn’t particularly mind. Kalki is busy preparing food and cleaning dishes in the back, so he does not get to witness this 10s-across-the-board maneuver.

Cafe Asterism’s patrons tend to get upset when Shinya isn’t the server or cashier, but he wishes he could be on cooking duty during cafe hours more often sometimes. Oh well. He wishes for a lot of things that can’t come true. He returns to what he was doing before hand, and Tanetomo and Yasuyori make their order.

“Iced coffee. Grande. And a bread pudding.”

“Could I have… a venti sized matcha frappuccino? Five Monte Cristos, and two shortbreads, please.”

Yasuyori pays for them both, and they take a seat. 

“Oh, 1 hour seating?” “Well, we won’t be staying long. Anybody who could find something in here even remotely interesting enough to justify spending over an hour in this place (aside from the presence of yours truly, of course) would have to be quite the simple minded kook.”

It’s a subtle dig at Shinya, and the corners of his lips curl up a little. But, for somebody whose goal was to win over Shinya’s “adoring throng of fans to show them who was truly worthy of their love”, as Tanetomo had put it, Shinya wasn’t quite sure if…ah, what was it called? If, “negging”, was the right direction to take.

The people seated nearby Tanetomo and Yasuyori smile upside down. There are definitely some unsavory feelings to be felt in the air, but romantic rival nor direct threat to Shinya’s life/ego (it’s the same thing to them really) Tanetomo does not yet appear to be, so they keep to themselves.

Shinya drops off crockery in the sink, and Kalki has already completed the preceding order for Shinya to serve. Kalki’s insane multi-tasking skills are one thing, but that combined with his four, rugged, heat-resistant arms puts him on a whole nother level when it comes to cafe work. Shinya could sing his praises about Kalki all day long, but not out loud. Kalki would explode the world from embarrassment before any of Shinya’s fans could do it for him in a fit of an envious rage. So Shinya settles for a simple ‘thank you Kalki’ and serves Moe-chan her order, who smiles and says thanks.

When Tanetomo and Yasuyori’s orders are completed, Shinya brings their food over.

“Wow! It looks so good! Thank you, Tenn-”

“Taste test for poison.” Tanetomo spoons a scoop of pudding into Yasuyori’s mouth, and then a strawful of iced coffee. 

“Gulp. Delicious! No poisons identified, Counselor.” 

Shinya wonders if this is Tanetomo’s roundabout way of sharing his food with Yasuyori, some sort of twisted display of dominance, or if poisoning attempts really are frequent enough to be something they actually needed to watch out for. Regardless, it’s a somewhat endearing scene, in a darkly comedic sort of way. 

They are in dangerous territory too after all, Shinya acknowledges. He smiles at the two and leaves them to go attend to the other customers.

Yasuyori takes a small sip of his frappe before setting it down on a coaster. The drink is now already half empty. 

“Give me some of your drink.”

Tanetomo has already snatched it before his sentence is even finished and tries some. He drinks a quarter of it, and Yasuyori nibbles on one of his cookies before giving it to Tanetomo.

The two of them efficiently dine and chat. As Tanetomo consumes the bread pudding and his drink at a surprisingly fast yet visually refined pace, Yasuyori piles three Monte Cristos on top of one another to impressively bite down on all at once, and then hands the remaining two to Tanetomo who proceeds to do the same.  

Wow. Shinya can already feel his jaw locking from just looking at them, but it also kind of makes him want to try it out as well.

Yasuyori finishes his sandwiches and cookie first, and then stares at the one he had given to Tanetomo. Tanetomo purses his lips and tells him to go buy some more for the both of them to-go. Yasuyori complies.

To Shinya’s surprise, Tanetomo calls out to him.

“Don’t think I haven't been seeing you side-eye us the entire time, Shinya Tennoji.” 

Oopsies. Looks like Shinya Tennoji got caught. He wasn’t bombastically ‘side-eyeing’, as Tanetomo had verbally interpreted it as, but he really thought he was doing good about not being that obvious observing them. He hopes the other customers haven’t been as perceptive and paranoid today as Tanetomo is in general, but he’s been pretty good about personably interacting with everybody so he thinks it’ll be okay. 

“So was the entertainment of our dining in your establishment to your satisfaction?”

“Aha, sorry, sorry. It’s not like I wasn’t looking, but the two of you seemed like you were having a lot of fun. I always want to see my customers having a good time at Cafe Asterism.”

“Hmph. Is that so.”

Well, yes. That is so, Shinya thinks. He most certainly does not like to see people having a bad time at Cafe Asterism, when the reasoning for most everybody gathering here tending to be because of him.

“Ahhh… could it be that... that wasn’t the case for you two today?” 

His hands come up to his chin. It’s an endearing pose that he finds tends to quell agitated customers, but it only serves to scrunch up Tanetomo’s expression even more. Shinya holds back a smile.

“The atmosphere here is not to my standards. The interior design doesn’t help either.” 

Shinya’s proud of his quaint little cafe, but he knows it’s just that. A quaint little cafe. That also attracted a lot of… rather strong-willed habitué . So he can acquiesce to that opinion. And besides, Tanetomo was not saying Shinya’s decorating was making the atmosphere worse! He can take that part as a compliment.

Anyways, the only opinion on his cafe that truly mattered was Retail Food Health and Safety Code’s opinion, and Cafe Asterism was up to snuff.

“Aww…. Tanetomo, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’d love for you and Yasuyori to come again sometime… but if you’ve lost all interest in returning to Cafe Asterism, then I completely understand.”

He doesn’t want them to never return again. But it’s not a bad thing to let people run while they still can either.

“I’d be significantly more incentivized to return if I had some more coupons to use at a next visit. The food is up to par, I can at least say.”

“Hehee. At least that can be arranged.” He pulls some from out of his apron pocket. “Here you go, Tanetomo.” 

He smoothly plucks them from Shinya’s fingers and looks them over. 

“You just give these out to whoever asks?” “When I feel like…I have extra, I guess.”

Shinya feels a presence behind him and turns around. Oh, it’s Moko.

“Sh…Shinya… sorry, cuz’ I overheard…but could…. I have a coupon, too…?” 

Moko gets the words out just audibly enough for only Shinya to hear, but Shinya knows it’s only a matter of time before people will begin to gather round, and Tanetomo seems to sense this looming phenomenon as well.

“My, one’s heart can't help but be tugged at by such pitiful displays of desperation…”

Yasuyori returns with a paper bag of confections in hand, and Tanetomo gets up to leave.

“I’m off.” He spins, his hair elegantly following in a curve, and heads to the exit.

“Farewell Shinya!” Yasuyori gives a friendly wave goodbye, and Shinya turns around to reciprocate.  

When he turns back to respond to Moko, and Sumael, Amon, and Rue who have also begun to crowd around Shinya, he hears the bell of the exit door ring as it is opened and Tanetomo calls out from behind.

“Customer service wasn’t bad either. Give my regards to Miss Taromaiti and the chefs.”

The door closes shut. 

“I was still right here to give regards to, you know,” Taromaiti remarks amusedly from the front register. 

Shinya proceeds in the distribution of coupons to his patrons who have circled around him.

[twistedwonderlandwriting]

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Wordcount:1,260 |readerx:Silver |Style:Oneshot

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I don't know why I find myself to be thinking about you. Quite often actually, it's strange that you came to mind with practically every action and every though. I've caught myself questioning even as I am doing something like cooking or reading what you would do, how you would react, if you would be there with me working together to complete such tasks, if you would be asking questions, If you would watch, or if you wond simply glance up at me from whatever you were doing and smile before looking back down at whatever occupied you attention.

I also think about how you would react to my stupid rambles if we were in person, I know it would be largely the same but for some reason the idea of being in your presence while doing so is different.

All of the things I've mentioned being my thoughts surrounding you that I've found my mind cirling more and more often.

In general I've always thought of love as something unattainable for me, much like that of a blue rose. Though whenever my thoughts lingered on the idea of love, not romance, love, my mind always saw love as a sort of commitment. Like a sense of devotion to another, but also a feeling. I had imagined that feeling to be a sense of longing, wishing just to be in their presence. Not necessarily just a crave for their though or their voice but a call deep within your soul that only ever wishes to stand beside them and feel their energy, their life beside your own.

I've thought that the summary of a relationship was not just the act of physical touch or the ability to confide in one another, but a active participant in your life, not on the side lines. Continuing to put in a effort to constantly learn more, maintain the relationship and support you, no matter how uninteresting the conversation listening because the subject makes you happy, completely disregarding the mind numbing conversation to her your genuine excitement, enthusiasm and passion. Taking the time to participate in your hobbies even if it's about as interesting as watching paint dry because it makes you happy and they love your joy

The idea of a relationship has always been in my mind the constant support of one another as you both learn and grow, making decisions together and tackling difficult situations together, building a life and a home together.

And now every time my mind wonders to these thoughts whether during writing, reading, watching a movie or listening to those soft songs that happened to worm my way into my Playlist when you came around they always drift to you. It's a path I neither realize I am walking along nor can stop till I reach my destination which is always you.

It's honestly quite pathetic how often even during the smallest of acts, tasks, and thoughs my mind lands on you. Even now Is I spontaneously write this sickeningly sweet adress of my thoughts they have all been clouded with your reaction once you read it if I ever work up the nerve to deliver this to you knowing that this stupid stupid letter is my attempt at genuinely pouring my heart out and the idea for you cringing as you read such cringing confessions making my heart squeeze a little and how I'm already prepared to make fun of my vulnerability just to keep you from being uncomfortable or having a negative thought about me.

I always told myself that high-school relationship were pointless, never going to last and honestly moronic, how foolish it was to allow someone who can barely choose what electives to hold something as precious and fragile as a heart, after all they are so easily shattered and do difficult to mend.

But honestly as I think about us, I no longer thing of a relationship bound to end in tragedy with me picking up the broken pieces and crushed fantasies due to promises that were never kept, but instead the possibility of a life we could build and the experiences we could share.

I've now found myself attached more and quicker than I ever could have anticipated and the idea terrifies me knowing that eventually you will have collected my entire heart and soul if you do not have it in your grasp already.

It keeps me awake, realizing just how genuinely comfortable I am with you, sharing information no one knows so effortlessly like second nature and how quickly I let my guard down to the point where I was able to fall asleep on call, action i have never done in front of anyone not just because I was exhausted, but your presence even through just a phone call makes me so comfortable that I sleep knowing you would never do anything to harm me.

It has become concerning to me since in the deepest crevasses of my mind I know logically the probability of us lasting long enough to do all we talk about is slim too none and the idea of it hurts. You have somehow given me hope that you actually intend on every wish you confess to me, my thoughts no longer resting on "as if that would happen" but instead on the feelings of the experience.

And here I sit as I write this, knowing fully well that if you asked me to write all this yet again on paper in my best cursive and mail it to you by a bird like a letter sent between a set of lovesick teens in the 1800's I would do so in a heart beat, if you ask for my time, for my heart or for me to stab myself I would do so in a heartbeat without question because of how devoted I have become.

Its gotten to the point where I sit around counting down the hours till I am able to speak with you once more and can identify around when you will get to school eagerly waiting by the door of your first class knowing tmyou walk you friends first before returning to your own and I wait longer for you.

Forever Yours,

Silver