Sabo

Keeping Up With The Todorokis: Season 2 featuring probably way too much Hawks

Reblog if you would make a religion out of Lin-Manuel Miranda

bc Lin is def our Lord and savior lmao

NOTES: for @xstarkillerx

You can't conceptualize what's wrong, a combination of things weighing you down as you seek out comfort. BRIAN O'CONNER sits at his work-table, sketching concept designs for the tweaks he'd like Tej to make. He's not a very gifted artist, but he's got the general idea down, at least until you pad onto the scene. As quiet as you are, he's learned your tells, glancing at you after he speaks, "What's up, sweetheart?" he asks, a little curl to his lips at the sight of you rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. You don't say anything, coming up to his side to fix your hands on his thigh, hoping to silently grab his attention while you wait for him to notice you. It takes him a second, but he does, gazing at you more deliberately this time. You exchange a look, and he adjusts in his seat to accommodate you while you invite yourself onto his lap.

You nestle in, tucking your head under his chin with a sigh. With an arm, he secures you, drawing you into him to get more comfortable himself, he inclines into you, curling his body around you as if you're his centerpiece. Gently, he bounces you on his leg, eyeing the tip of your nose. "S'the matter, bunny? Don't feel like talking?" You're unresponsive, you don't even look at him, and he strokes your back with his big hand. "I got it. Don't worry, I got it." Sweetly, he rubs his cheek on the top of your head, ending it with an affectionate kiss.

he won't let go,,,

on that hot summer day (1999)

little laurance and his friend ungrth

going out of your way to search up [insert character] ANGST and all you get is smut

Bege has dad instincts. Can’t let these kids look unpresentable. 

Delivery (pt.3)

I've been keeping this in my docs collecting virtual dust and cobwebs. So for those who love Mihawk please don't roast me if I write him wrong. Still thinking if I should continue writing this.

The reflection of your face mirrors the bewilderment from the brown liquid in the white porcelain cup. The scent is meadow-like with a dash of sweetness dancing under your nose. 

Passion flower tea.

You're not a tea person. You are more like the world is burning and you still prefer a hot cup of coffee that is darker than the cape you saw Mr. Dracule wear last month and two spoons of sugar. 

"Is the tea not to your liking?"

Looking towards the man blinking as if you have just woken up, your jaw clenched and unclenched like you are chewing your words, filtering the phrases thoroughly. 

"No." In the end, you couldn't give a better answer when everything sounded rude in your head. 

You recollect once more how the cup of tea made its way to your hands and the man also sat on the steps near you. The random interaction is throwing you off. It feels like you are missing something but reading too much will lead you deeper into the depths you don't want to dive into. 

So for the sake of etiquette, you take a sip. And the tea didn't fail to disappoint. Still tastes like drinking a bunch of sapped grass. You even stick out your tongue but it only makes the flavor set off your taste bud. 

"I prefer coffee, dark, and two spoons of sugar. But thank you for the tea." You place the cup beside you before standing up. "I better get going Mr. Dracule. See you next… month?"

As usual, he didn't give you a reply and you are off the perimeter of his castle still bothered by his abrupt tea time. How awkward and rude for leaving but there's something with the tea you were not vibing with. What a strange choice to share with someone. 

…

"Y/n spill it!" The petite brunette screamed right at your face. 

"Aya for the last time I don't have any idea who sent those flowers." 

Glaring at the bouquet of apple blossoms, savory, and daffodils right beside the spearmint flowers innocently placed in the vase from the corner of the bar counter. You're not well-versed in the language of flowers but you know damn well what apple blossom means. It's clear from the unusual combinations of flowers that the sender was conveying a message. 

And it wasn't the first bouquet you received. Last week it was only savory flowers. You didn't think too much about it, until today when Aya and Dave found the bouquet first. 

"Aren't you curious?" 

"The only thing I'm curious about is if I rob a bank will it be enough to pay my debt?"

"You are not robbing a bank, y/n!! Dave y/n at it again!" 

You scoff as if your uncle can even do something about it. 

Dave walks out through the backdoor looking conflicted. "Arson?"

"No! But stealing banks."

Your uncle didn't say anything, very typical of him. As he went back through the back door presumably to hole up in the office. You allowed it as long he did his job; counting numbers and deception. 

"So, are you gonna tell me anything?"

Rolling your eyes you continue reading the book in your hand. It's a slow day anyway, no new customers to deal with or the usual rowdy patrons. An annoying sigh drags out of your throat when Aye placed her hands on top of your book pushing it down. 

"What are you, my mom? Demanding shit like I'm doing things behind your back?"

"I'm younger than you! And shorter! And cute! How–"

You grab her cheeks pulling her closer making her entire upper lean on the bar counter. Squishing her cheeks, Aya starts to panic. 

"You surely feel comfortable working here that you forget who's the real boss, brat."

"Eeep!! Nooh, um soowee!"

Letting go of your coworker, you return from reading your book. 

"Jeez, you're no fun. Kill-joy!" 

"Wipe the table instead rather than annoying me with something I don't know," you ordered. 

Aya huffed mumbling strings of complaints she only stopped when you gave her a glance at the top of your book. 

You do a double-take on the paragraph that caught your attention. Regard, warmth of sentiment… your gaze moves towards the vase again. 

Daffodils are right next to the spearmint flowers, intertwined as if to complement each other. 

Shaking your head you return from reading. Whoever sent the bouquet is the least of your concern, after all, you hate flowers. 

…

You whistle upon seeing the gloomy island from afar looking significantly bright for the first time. The thick cloud looming over the island has a thinner portion where some of the sunlight manages to pass through. 

Ah, here we go again. 

Strangely no attack nor any signs of weapon-wielding baboons scurrying in the shadows. Not even the snipers shooting at you like a ragdoll in a practice range. 

"What's going on with this island today?" You whispered not letting your guard down, after encountering traps in your path. 

As if you're gonna fall for an obvious trap, you snort at the thought. 

Okay, something wrong is going on with this island. Is it the sunshine? Are the baboons afraid of it? What is it? You've been coming to this island back and forth, unfazed by the horror vibe it's going for. But this, this silence is so dense you can breathe it in. 

On a good note, you got to the castle without breaking a sweat for the first time. However, as you close the distance to your destination, your guts rumble from the sudden surge of trepidation. Now what? There's no way you'll be needing a bathroom break because there is no freaking way you'll enter Mr. Dracula's castle!

"Uhm, I'm wondering if it is normal for the humandrills to be absent when the island is experiencing sunny weather. I haven't encountered any of them on my hike here," you can't help but ask before taking a sip of your coffee. Yep, coffee, and you politely accept the break he offered. 

"The humandrills are busy tending the farm today," Dracule answered as if he was just talking about the weather. 

You spat the coffee in your mouth and coughed trying to alleviate the sting in your throat. Damn, that hurts. 

"How? Like I thought you don't have authority over them? And those baboons know how to farm now?" 

The string of questions earns you a raise of an eyebrow from the stoic man while he looks at you. 

"I don't. The humandrills just copy what I've been doing."

"That's a stalker-level kind of shit." 

"It's how they learn from watching. But humandrills believed to live peacefully if they lived with peaceful humans."

He didn't have to say anything because you'd already recognized what came next. You stare at the brightened sky, trying to avert your attention away from the brooding thoughts. "It's such a shame they had to witness that part of humanity." 

The silence is easing the brewing storm in your mind. Such a nice break from your haunting reality. 

"The old fool, why are you still keeping him around Delver?"

"Don't call me by my father's last name. Please, Mr. Dracule. Y/n or anything else as long as it's not offensive will be fine."

"I don't understand. You are calling me by my last name."

"It's for business reasons." You placed the cup beside you and stood up. Still trying to be polite you look away from him. 

"Still–"

"I can't stand hearing it! You shouldn't even know about it! Please, it's all I ask." 

"Very well, y/n."

Wiping your eyes you smile at him in appreciation. "Thanks, and sorry for being emotional. Just a mention of my old man rattles me quite easily."

"You are still grieving. That is understandable."

The sky is growing darker again, a reasonable escape for you from this unexpected exchange. "Thank you for the coffee. Anyway, it's getting dark again. I better get going. See you later Mr. Dracule." 

As you walked away his voice drifted from your range but it was faint making it indiscernible. And when you turned around he was halfway from entering his home. But you swear you heard him. You shrug and carry on walking toward the shore. 

...

Sleep is still in your eyes with a cup of newly brewed coffee, you walked out of the bar entrance to breathe some morning air. It becomes a habit you can't shake off even when your father couldn't be there to share this serene moment with you anymore. You take a seat on the steps, as usual, but now alone. 

Even your uncle grew used to this habit. After all, it's always been the three of you. The store bell chimed again. You didn't have to turn around and check who it is.

"I'm cooking pancakes, do you want some bacon too?" 

"Yeah, and please don't cremate it like last time," you teasingly said. Trying to fill up the quietness of the morning. 

"May I remind you I'm hangover because of those party maniacs."

"And I didn't hear you complain the entire night while you took on bets."

"Ugh! It's only a one-time y/n. I–y/n?"

You only hummed still in a daze. 

"You received another bouquet again."

The cup hovers in front of your mouth as your body goes rigid. Another one… again? 

"You didn't notice?"

"It's too fucking early Dave. No, I haven't noticed shit since I came out of here. For fuck sake that's getting annoying." You sneered, after seeing the flowers. 

"Can you stop cursing so much this early in the morning?"

"Make me bitch." You grumbled. 

Dave rolled his eyes. "Brat. Anyway, I feel pity for whoever was sending these flowers. It's such a waste." Dave picked the bouquet. 

"Eat it if you want." 

"You are hopeless, y/n"

You groan, tempers rising. "Tell me something I didn't know already."

Dave only sighed at your retort and went back inside. A scowl crumpled your features, all the while trying to remember what you read from the book you stole from Dave. Your uncle is well-versed in the language of flowers. You didn't like how ecstatic he was when he saw the first bouquet you received. But you didn't ask him what was the meaning of those damn flowers since you act indifferent about it. You don't want them to think you are interested. And it's getting more annoying that the flower shop owner delivering the damn flowers refused to give you an answer. 

Yes, you managed to trace who's delivering those flowers. But it only led you to a dead end. 

Pink camellia and white roses. Shudder raked over your body from the absence of heat leaving your paling body. Just the thought of somebody getting lovey-dovey over you is making you cringe. 

The explanation is at a young age, you became repulsed by romance because of your old hag. It's a story for another time and you don't want to recall those memories now. 

You can only hope that if you continue ignoring this secret admirer they eventually stop, whoever they are. 

...

"So, boss, you have an admirer now?"

"Don't call me that, it's gross. And no, it must be for Aya. Do I look admirable, kid?" You glance at your cousin beside you, and he immediately looks away. "Right. I don't think so. I have had enough of the two idiots bothering me about those damn flowers," you answered as you checked the basket of grapes. 

Getting tired of the relentless interrogation from your uncle and waitress you decide to give the family's vineyard a visit. Unfortunately, the issue you are running away from has also gotten over to the attention of your other relatives. 

Liam is one of Rachel's kids who likes to follow you whenever you are around. The teenager with dedicated brown eyes was enthusiastic about learning everything about agriculture and cultivating the vineyard into a prosperous farm, he already earned sun-kissed skin and a toned body from years' worth of work. 

"Are you gonna stay here for a while?"

"Yeah, just for tonight, kid."

Liam brightened up from your reply already looking forward to tonight's dinner. You laughed as you watched the teenager run toward the house, while you choose to stroll, just taking your time. 

Soon you will be in the ocean once again to deliver Dracula's expensive wine and have a cup of coffee with the said recluse on the stairs of his doorsteps. Because you refused to accept his invitation inside his domain the second time. 

It became a routine whenever you got there and waited for the payment, he would be back with a tray of drinks. You weren't sure at first how to strike up a conversation with him while drinking and sitting next to him. You didn't even know if the small talk would start a proper conversation with him, but you give it a shot. So you take off with what you left unanswered from the previous encounter. 

From there he told you the reason why he dislikes your uncle. In the end, you both agree Dave should grow a pair and be a man now that your father is gone. 

A decent conversation with Kuraigana's only local human was something you weren't expecting since he isn't the type to talk a lot but he wasn't selfish in giving you the necessary answers. As long as he knows the answers or wants to answer of course. 

But the man seems to lean more toward listening than talking. One time you were talking about the vineyards. Just like that, you were talking to him like a long-time friend exchanging notes and catching up with each other. You were so into the topic that you didn't notice you were smiling and talking nonstop about a fond memory you had of your family vineyard. And when you momentarily stopped you were taken aback when being coaxed by him that you continue the story. Which you did for an entirely different reason when you saw something else in his eyes. 

Maybe it's just you, caffeinated, or maybe just the dreariness of the place finally getting into you. Seeing some fleeting softness in his usual deadpan stares. The conversation flowed back into a smooth transition when you decided to just roll with whatever that was. He was lonely even if he didn't show it on the surface level, the man obviously craves company. So, you just continue. 

Although you are not known for your generosity, his company isn't equally bad for you. Especially in those quiet moments. His silence is comforting and it quite becoming a solace you've been longing for. It sure is an equal ground for two equally lonely adults. 

Now that's a head-scratcher, you aren't usually friendly with men like him. Having connections with dangerous people is surely the lifeblood of your family business. However, the relationship should remain within the bounds of professionalism. So, why did your father go this far in serving this man? And you only discover this deal when Zake left. 

…

You took a whiff of the scent constantly teasing your nose every now and then. It is stronger than usual. Calmly intoxicating and warm like a drink of wine near the fireplace on cold nights in winter. You find the combination oddly comforting. Which rarely happens because everything is simply too much for you. 

"I am quite aware you have a sensitive nose y/n. But aren't you being obvious right now?"

Startled by what you heard, you whacked both of your hands on the lower part of your face, instantly covering your nose, while you leaned further away from the man. You've been found out. He knew. But how much does he know about your sensitivity?

"I'm sorry Mr. Dracule, I didn't mean it. I swear it's not what you think." You tried to explain defending yourself from obvious humiliation. 

"Then, please, do tell me what it was you were doing."

At this point, your cheeks must be the warmest part of your body right now. With how much blood may be rushing in your head. Your flustered deposition only intensified when Dracule glanced at you and to your horror, there was a glint of amusement perks in his golden eyes. 

"You should relax or you may end up fainting with so much blood rushing through your head. Although it is a fascinating sight that you are almost a shade closer to the color of a wine. I don't want you losing consciousness on me." 

Unable to hold yourself you turn your back on him while holding both of your cheeks. You take your time composing yourself back, taking deep breaths and a bunch of happy thoughts. He really caught you off guard when you thought you were being discreet sniffing the air around you. Well, what do you really expect from a man of his caliber, of course, he will notice even the subtle change in your breathing and not to mention you are only a few feet beside him. 

Well, it is what it is. You've been caught, might as well just be fucking open about it. 

"You smell nice today Mr. Dracule." 

Not physically but emotionally. He is calm and content right now. The scent of his emotions draws you for more, lulling you into comfort. But he doesn't have to know entirely the effects of his scent on you. 

You kept your gaze away from him while you lean on the heel of your palm. "Did you perhaps change your soap?"

And when you thought the day couldn't get any weirder you heard a sound too foreign for your ears. Abrupt without any further ado or introduction necessary the stoic man laughed. It's not a full belly laugh, no that would be too much for this man and definitely be out of his character, or even a giggle for he is too refined for such a reaction. It's just short, simple like being lightly tickled. 

It's a jaw-dropping moment in the grand line to hear a man known for his menacing bitch resting face, a composure refined as white sugar, and goth fashion you could scope a distant mile away with his coffin boat that if you fail his vibe check there is a high chance he can slash you and the island you are on in half. 

Must be the end of the world. 

Unfortunately, your jaw didn't drop since you froze in your position and the only movement your rigid body can operate is your neck to swivel toward his direction and blink owlishly, because what the hell just happened?

Dracule Mihawk just laughed. 

"I admit there are some changes," he said, while nonchalantly taking a sip of his tea. His lips curled higher between the rim of his cup. "And you're turning red again, y/n."

Ah, no shit Mihawk you just laugh, is what you wanted to blurt out. But it shouldn't be a big deal. He is still a human being, entitled to human emotions. 

Although embarrassed by the obvious flush on your cheeks you didn't hide it this time. What's the point of hiding the reaction you don't have control over? 

"Yes, I'm aware. Thank you for pointing it out Mr. Dracule." Even if you are being passive about your situation there's a hint of sass in your tone. 

You are anxious about the future. Working in the bar since you were a teenager alongside your father and your uncle, the occasional brawl was a typical scene you'd grown desensitized from the endless display of manly savagery. The constant piss contest and who's greater than who game, you'd seen it all. The week wouldn't be complete without those arrogant bastards and wisenheimer, picking on each other's business until those smug faces had been pulverized and beaten into a disgraceful ugly pulp. That's why you don't find men appealing anymore or maybe you are simply an ace. 

But lo and behold, when the amused grin is still plastered on his face as you glanced at him. A sign of apparent trouble showed itself in an unexpected form, at an unsuspected time. You realize how attractive smug confidence is on the face of Dracule Mihawk. 

And you can't emphasize the expression, "oh, no" enough in your recent predicament. 

Gripping a sword overview