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#also: he's so cute the way he says 'its a good sweater!' your honor
patrickztump · 1 year
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MUSIC CHOICE LIVE: FALL OUT BOY [✗]
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miekasa · 3 years
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do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?
Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)
EREN sfw
He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.
He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.
He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.
He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.
He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.
On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.
nsfw
He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.
Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.
Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).
He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.
Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.
ARMIN sfw
He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.
On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.
He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭
He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.
He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.
nsfw
He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.
Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)
He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.
That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.
He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.
JEAN sfw
Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.
He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.
Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.
He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.
He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.
nsfw
He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.
Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.
One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.
If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.
CONNIE sfw
He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.
He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.
He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.
He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.
nsfw
He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.
Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.
He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.
He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.
PORCO sfw
He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.
He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.
Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.
Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.
nsfw
He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.
Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.
Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.
Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.
LEVI
sfw
When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.
He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.
He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.
After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.
He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.
He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.
nsfw
He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.
King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.
He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.
He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.
Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.
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mrsmaybank · 3 years
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Tate Langdon x Reader 18+
“Daddy?” Tate playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?”
A/N: In honor of me rewatching Murder House, here’s some absolutely disgusting dead people sex. I know Tate is a horrible person, but he’s incredibly sexy.  Sorry. He could kill me. LOL GIRL ANYWAYS SOOOOO... Also, does anybody know where I can find more stories like this? I could literally only find like two good ones. I barely write smut and I didn’t reread this so if it sucks, well my bad. Anyways, I hope you guys like! 
TW: SMUT VERY VERY NSFW, DADDY KINK, HEAVY DEGRADATION, DEAD PEOPLE?, DRUGS, SPITTING KINK?? LITERALLY EVERYTHING, DON’T READ IT IF YOU’RE NOT INTO THIS KINDA STUFF! 
TATES POV 
“Only reason I haven’t killed her yet is so I can jack off to her while she showers.” I smiled as Y/N walked through the front door and up to her room. I was kidding of course. There was many things I wanted to do to her and murder her was not one. 
“You’re a sick little fuck.” Hayden scoffed and walked away. 
“You’re a whore. With daddy issues. Fucked an old married guy.” I whispered to myself. The house was “empty” now. Just me and Y/N. She was the only living soul there. Her parents were out, doing what I could care less. 
I followed Y/N up to her room. She was sitting on the floor behind her bed, perched on the window sill, shoving pinches of grinded weed into a bowl. Her hair was a mess per usual. A wild but perfect mess of hair. I wondered if the ‘I-just-got-fucked’ look was on purpose, or she was naturally disheveled. She took off her sweater and grabbed a lighter from her purse, leaving her in a tiny black tank-top that left just the perfect amount to the imagination. Good god. Her tits looked sculpted by Satan himself, tasked to taint the minds of all thy tempted. I did my best to take a mental note of the sight. Her perfect lips attaching to the pipe, her chest rising and lowering with every inhale and exhale of smoke. “Fuck.” I sighed. 
She twitched. Fuck she heard. I wasn’t paying attention to whether or not I was allowing her to hear me. She laughed to herself. “Fuck, I’m tweaked.” She plopped herself on the bed, my bed. And played a song on her laptop. It wasn’t music I was familiar with. It was probably new, but it was good. Very good actually. I confirmed she had good music taste when she hung up a poster of Kurt Cobain in her closet. I’d also heard her tell her friends she couldn’t wait to go to hell to fuck him. Her family was devout catholic. It’s weird though--it seems she believes everything the church says. However, the amount of disgusting things I witness that girl do on a daily basis leads me to believe she gets a kick outta being a sinner. She’s a pothead, once coke-whore, communist, cocksucking, intrepid, audacious bitch and yet--she’s beautiful and clever and kind to those who deserve it. I like her very much. I watched with wide eyes as her hand moved to her perfect tit, grabbing it harshly and massaging it until a tiny moan made its way out of her mouth. I wanted nothing more than to stop her, punish her for being a little slut and take her in every way I wanted, but obviously I could not. She slid her hand into her pants, moaning at the sensation of her own fingers. Jesus fuck. 
I walked to her door. Opened it. Stood on the other side, closed it, appeared and knocked. “Dad?” she practically screamed. Not quite. 
“No,” I laughed, opening the door to let myself in, “Neighbor.” I pretended to look surprised at her messy hair and big eyes. 
“Did I interrupt something?” I questioned. 
“No.” she said firmly. “But you’re not my neighbor.” 
“Yes I am. I live in the house behind you. Makes you my neighbor.” 
“How’d you get in?” She was scared, but not surprised. 
“Someone left the back door open.” I bumped my head to the guitar of the song. 
“This is great. Whose the artist?” 
“Uh, Arctic Monkeys.” I laughed, “What a weird name. They’re good though.” 
“Yeah, I think so too.” 
“Yeah. What’s your name? I’m Tate.” 
“Y/N.” 
I got closer to the bed where she sat. Looking down at her as she looked up to me with doe eyes. “Y/N,” I tucked a hair behind her ear, “Are you--” 
She grabbed my face and stuck her tongue down my throat. Horny little bitch. I pulled her hair back and detached her face, she needed to be put in her place. “God fuck Y/N.” She laughed and I laid her down on the bed, crawling on top of her. I smiled at her as she  tugged on my shirt. “You’re such a bad girl. You’re really, really bad.” I kissed her this time, it was passionate and she would not stop tugging on the hem of my long-sleeve. I stopped for a second, panting. I went to kiss her lips again, but I changed my mind. I kissed her jaw instead, leaving sloppy kisses down her neck as she whimpered and mumbled. I was so busy with marking her neck I didn’t notice her hand slide down to grip me, that is, until I did. I moaned into the kiss, until she pulled away to whisper in my ear. “Fuck me daddy.” She smiled devilishly back at me. 
“Daddy?” I playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?” 
“Yeah,” she laughed. “Now fuck me.” This time it was my turn to laugh, “No.” I pushed her back down and continued to kiss her. Exploring her mouth as I pleased until I pleased. I got up, dramatically taking off her pants to reveal the cutest, daintiest, black little panties. 
“These are adorable.” I played with the hem, “Absolutely adorable.” She whimpered in desperation, “Please. Do something already.” 
I traced my fingers lightly on her clothed cunt, noting the wetness that had gathered. I removed her tank top to reveal her bare tits, and god, how great it was to finally touch them. I made my way up her body, kissing up her stomach until I got to the place I wanted to be. I took one in my mouth and the other in my hand as she writhed under me in pleasure. Moaning and panting all ‘cause of me. It was cute. While my mouth continued it’s assault on her literally godly boob, I used the other hand to dip into her--soaking--pussy. “Fuuuckkk.” she threw her head back in ecstasy. 
“You’re dripping like you’ve never been touched.” I told her. She only continued to whimper in response. I made her cum twice before I was so hard I thought I might finish before even getting inside. 
I kissed her lovingly, her lips were swollen and there were tears in her eyes. “Is it too much baby?” I teased her clit before she could respond, she twitched but then to my surprise gained her senses. “Fuck me. Now.” 
“Okay.” I aligned and entered. “Jesus christ.” I could barely speak. “You’re so,” I thrusted hard, “Fuck!”, I went deeper, “Tight.” I wanted, I swear to god I tried to be gentle at first, but between the absolute desire I had for this girls perfect body, the sound of her cute little whimpers and curses, the ripping my hair out, the fucking tightness of her pussy--I couldn’t. I rammed into that girl over and over, harder every time. She was purring like a little kitten, tightening around me every time I called her a little slut. She opened her mouth, practically an invitation for me to spit in it. 
I slowed to a stop, my dick still completely inside her. She was a mess of course, a needy little mess that needed me to keep going, “Hey,” I calmed her down, “Hey.” I used a hand to gently caress her forehead. “Open your mouth.” She opened wide and I spat. Right in her mouth. She swallowed it. 
I bottomed out and thrusted back into her and she screamed. “You needed to swallow something didn’t you?” She tightened and whimpered, “Hm?”, she clenched again moaning, but I wanted an answer. “Whore?” I shouted, fucking into her with literally every bone in my body. 
“Yes, yes, please. I’m gonna--” That’s when my evolutionary senses took over and I felt the overwhelming need to fucking nut as deep in her as possible. I pushed into her deeper, feeling her walls spasm around me, “You want me to cum don’t you? Your pussy wants it. It’s practically milking my--” She clenched a final time and I fell into the ecstasy of orgasm. I fucked it into her a while, she came again. And all I could do was giggle to myself as I laid on her bare chest. Her painted black nails scratched at my scalp. 
“Hey, Y/N? I’m dead.” 
“Hey Tate? Me too.” 
I got up to look her in the eyes, she was serious, and I was confused. As fuck.
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missblissy · 3 years
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Glad you're back!! Miss you! I see about your post, can I have some modern AU maybe of Human! Alastor x reader going to an aquarium? Maybe a cute date? Haha thx amazing to have you again
(( QwQ/ It's good to be back! And I would be honored to do that. I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy!!))
It was hinted with salt filling the air. Misty and warm, the summer sea winds rolled off the coast and into your hair. The Long Island sound was picture perfect, just as you remember in your childhood dreams. You were staying in a quaint little town your familly use to visiting summer after summer when you were a child. And it was the perfect place for you to bring yourself on a long over due vacation. Work had been too much to handle this past year, and now you could spend the next week relaxing on the soft sandy coastal beaches of Long Island. 
However today you had plans to take the ferry across the sound to the aquarium. Sure... you were going by yourself but... So what. You didn’t particularly have many friends, nor a partner in your life. But so what? You were an introvert natrually and a social gathering over five people where never your thing. 
You had just made it to the ferry docks. As always, you were fifteen minutes early. You couldn’t bear to be late, especially since you considered “on-time” to be late. You were sitting on a public bench facing the sound. Dozens of other people have started to gather around the same place as you. You were just about to take one of your favorite books out of our bag when someone approached you.
“Do you mind if I sit?” You saw a man standing before you. He had a pleasant smile. A soft one that just barely met his eyes. You took one second too long to peer at him.
“Uh-...” You tore your gaze from his soft brown hair and to his polished shoes. They were out of style yet he somehow managed to pull it off, “Yea-.. I mean no...! Help yourself.” You tried to return his smile but you were far more awkward about it. This man had some strange sense of fashion. He looked oddly in place, however, he seemed like he was trying to live in a time long since past. 
“Are you waiting for the ferry too?” He asked, making simple conversation to fill the void of silence. 
You glanced at him quickly a second time and made a nervous little laugh. His dark complexion matched his brown eyes hidden behind perfectly circular glasses, “Oh... yes.” You remember you had your ticket in your hand, “It shouldn't be much longer until it arrives,” 
The stranger nodded his head slowly, “Have you ever been on a ferry before?” You nodded your head to his question, “Ah, first time for me. They don’t have ferries where I’m from.” He said with a cool expression.
He seemed chatty for a stranger. Most of the time when strangers tried talking to you, you’d brush them off. But this man was lucky that you thought he was rather... stunning in the looks department. That, and he seemed rather harmless as of right now. So you indulged in his conversation, “Where are you from?” You asked. 
The man paused only slightly then turned himself to face you. He held out his left hand for you to take. You were hesitant but you still reached out, “Alastor,” He said, “I’m from New Orleans. I’m guessing you’re a local?” You wouldn’t have ever guessed that, he didn’t have any kind of southern twang or drawl to his tone.
You shooked his hand but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his question, “No, no,” You waved your hand a little, “Uh- aha... I’m (Y/N). And I’m not from here, but my family and I use to come here all the time for summer vacations.”
“Well, it’s certainly a lovely place to visit. I’m here for business though so I can’t say I’ve gotten the real experience of it all yet. Today was my day off, however, and I thought I’d go see this aquarium one of my friends keeps telling me to go to. She’s rather annoying about it, truly, spoiled even and quite the nagging little thing. But she is my friend after all and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of not listening to her.” 
There was a moment there went you felt your heart stop for a minute, “That’s... really ironic.” You said slowly.
“Oh? You have a bossy friend too?” He jested with a smile. 
You laughed for a second then shook your head, “No, I mean that it’s ironic that you’re going to the aquarium,” You paused for a second then reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You showed Alastor and said, “I’m going too.” 
He peered at the e-ticket on your phone, the pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep laugh, “What a small world!” He laughed, then laughed some more, “How truly ironic indeed!” Then without a second to waste, he faced you once again then asked, “Would you like to go together?”
The question startled you. You didn’t expect that. He was very bold, wasn’t he? You had only just met and he was asking to spend probably what would be the rest of the day with you. You were flustered suddenly, then you were tongue-tied, lastly, you cracked your voice as you answered, “S-Sure! Yea- um--....” You felt your cheeks turn a little pink, “Sorry. It’s just... That was unexpected.” Just as you said that the loud horn of the ferry screamed as it pulled into the docks. 
Alastor stood up while smiling down to you, “Life wouldn’t be life if what you expected happened all the time.” 
He then held out his hand, offering to help you up from the bench. You took a moment, sitting there and taking everything in for what it was. Alastor stood before you, looking as though he was some kind of mathematician, or professor, now that you got a good look at him. His red tie was tucked behind a brown sweater vest that stopped just shy of his belt. His hand was offered to you, while the wind dusted his brown hair around in the breeze. And that smile on his face, it was soft yet firm enough to show that he was pleased to help you up. 
So you decided then... why the hell not? He was right, life wouldn’t be the same if it was exactly like what you expected. You took Alastor’s hand and pulled yourself to your feet. The two of you chatted while boarding the ferry, and then stood beside each other while leaning along the guard rails of the top deck.
The both of you talked about all kinds of things. You found out that Alastor was some kind of internet personality, not really. He had a podcast he ran and owned with some friends of his. It was apparently very popular and well known, though not that well known because you’ve never heard of it before. And to say that didn’t hurt Alastor’s ego a little would have been a lie. Apparently, Alastor also had a strong taste for liquor, because at one point he went to the ferry’s indoor bar and came back with two rum on the rocks.
You told him it was only noon, to which he replied, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” And laughed before taking a sip of his drink. You decided to have the one he got you and told yourself it’d only be one which Alastor stayed true to. He didn’t wander off for another drink once he finished the one he had. There was another point that you learned that Alastor had the habit of ignoring his phone, to the instance where he got annoyed with it and turned it off. It seemed he only wanted to focus on talking to you and listening to what you had to say.
Alastor and you talked the whole ferry ride, which was just under an hour long. And when you docked, you both walked side by side down the three and a half blocks to the aquarium. It wasn’t a massive place, but it was a good size with a decent amount of animals. You originally came here with the idea of looking for inspiration within sea life. For you were an author, after all, writing stories for a living came with its ups and downs. For instance, right now, your much-needed vacation wasn’t really a vacation. The current book you were working on took place in late century seaside town, much like this one. And you had run into the worse possible writer’s block you’ve ever been in. 
As you and Alastor had finished passing the entry gates and showing your tickets, you wondered why Alastor would want to come here with you. Maybe because he realized how terribly awkward it would be if you continued to cross paths all day. You also thought about how you wouldn't be able to focus on working with him around now. You also didn’t really want to out yourself, or your current story. 
But that would soon be unavoidable. You and Alastor had just made it to the open exhibits of the aquarium. You had stopped on an old wooden bridge to briefly look out at a beautiful koi pond. Alastor leaned over slightly while resting his arms on the bridge railing. He had a soft smile that was barely on his lips, “This one oddly reminds me of home,” He sighed. 
You learned along the railing as well, looking over the swampy like pond. It lily pads all over, with a dark green water filled with dead trees and moss. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear the bullfrogs chirping away. Seeing it gave your a sudden surge of inspiration. Something about it made you get several ideas for your book. You couldn’t let them slip away, so you reached into your bag and grabbed your notebook.
While you became lost in your own world, scribbling down idea after idea, Alastor quietly watched you. It wasn’t in a way that you noticed, because he’d only take a side glance here or there. But after a moment or so, he finally asked, “Forgot something to add to your grocery list?” 
It was meant to be a joke but it went right over your head (Mush to Alastor’s dismay).
“O-oh..” You then laughed weakly, “No... It’s for a story I’m working on.” 
Alastor turned to face you slightly while still leaning on the rail, “Oh, like an author?”
You took a dry swallow then glanced away and shrugged, “Yea,” You didn’t want to egg him on. But of course, he asked anyways. 
“Are you published?” He seemed genuinely interested. Yet there was a reason you wanted to avoid it. Oftentimes when you told people about your books, the general reception wasn't that good. There was a reason you wrote under a pen name. 
However, Alastor wasn’t from around here, and you weren’t on New York Time’s Best Selling List yet, and probably never would be. So there was a chance he wouldn’t know or ever heard of your books. 
So you took the chance and said, “Yeah. I’m the author of Sea Rise.”
“Oooh,” Shit. “That book series about the pirates?” Dammit. 
You felt your cheeks burn as you took in a deep breath and nodded your head, “You’ve heard of them?” You wouldn’t look at him though. You just kept your gaze on some turtle resting on a log. 
“Yeah, never read them,” He gave a slight chuckle, “But the girl I work with-”
“You said her name is Charlie, right?”
“Yes- Well, she reads ‘em. She’s a big fan. I’m under the assumption that it’s about fictional pirates?” 
You took in a small breath then sighed, “Pretty much. It’s... not that amazing or anything. It’s okay.” You noticed that Alastor pushed off the rail and started to walk again, but slower this time.
“Tell me about it.” His words surprised you enough to look at him with a shocked expression. He laughed at you while giving a small wave of his hand, “Only if you want to. I’m sure you can’t talk much about spoilers.”
You blinked, then let out a shaky laugh, “I-I don’t know. It’s... A long story. This is for my fourth installation.”
He hummed with a slight chuckle, “Well it’s a good thing there is a snack bar over there.” He pointed to one not that far away, “And plenty of places to sit too.” 
There was something that flickered around in your chest. You felt butterflies you always wrote about in your stories. You peered at Alastor finding it hard to stare at his face. You glanced up from his shoes and got caught in that tilt in his smirk. Heat ran to your cheeks and spread across your nose, you gave a sharp nod of your head then awkwardly stuttered out, “O-okay!” With maybe a little too much excitement. Who knew that today, of all days... You’d run into someone like him. 
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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years
Text
That’s The Way
Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)
Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.
Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!
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3 May 1965
The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.
“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out.  “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”
Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.
“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.
“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.
Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.
Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”
Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.
“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.
“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.
Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.
“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.
“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”
“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.
“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.
“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.
“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.
“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.
The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.
“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.
“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.
“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”
Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.
Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.
“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.
Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.
“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.
“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”
“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”
Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”
“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”
“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.
~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.
“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.
“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.
“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.
“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.
After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.
Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.
“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”
“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.
“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”
“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”
“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.
~~~~~~~~
Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?
Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.
The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.
As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.
Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.
As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.
After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.
Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.
Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.
“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.
“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”
Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream.  Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.
Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”
“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.
Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.
“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.
“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.
She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.
“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”
After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”
Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.
~~~~~~~~
“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.
Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”
“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.
“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.
“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.
“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.
Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.
The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.
She felt like internally combusting.
“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.
Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.
Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.
Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.
“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”
“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.
“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.
“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.
Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.
“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”
Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.
“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.
“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.
“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”
“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.
“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.
“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.
“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.
“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.
“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.
The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.
They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.
“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.
“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.
---------
Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!
Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby
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blue-bird-kny · 3 years
Text
How You Spend Days Off
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I stuck to only the three main peeps, but I’m looking forward to writing for more JJK characters. It was actually really nice to write for them, so I hope you enjoy~Amanda
P.S: Be safe out after dark!
Warning: N/A
( 2.1K+ words)
   ↳{shenanigans you and your S/O get up to on days off}
Yuji:
Days off with Yuji are unpredictable and always either involve something thrilling and very energy consuming or it can be some of the simplest things a person can do- no in between.
Yuji usually is the one who makes plans during your spare time (though he always gets your opinion, of course), he just really values time with you and wants to experience so much together while he can
It was common knowledge that this coming Friday, all the students would have the time off to rest as a reward for all their hard work with the recent influx of curse activity. Yuji wasted no time in planning the perfect day together, from the moment you woke up next to him to when you both fell asleep, he had something ready.                               
“Ah that was delicious Yuji, thank you” you cheered, arms stretched high above your head in an attempt to work away the sleepiness the food had made you feel. “No problem! Only the best for you, princess” Yuji’s smile reached past his shining eyes, thrilled you enjoyed the assortment of plates and bowls filled with your breakfast favorites he’d surprised you with. “Well then, my prince, to what honor do I owe your company today?” you asked leaning against your balled fist and bent elbow on the table, amusement and adoration laced on all your features. “For one day only, yours truly scored us tickets to…! Drum roll please!” Yuji posed dramatically, eyes cast down while crouched and pointing in a funny manner.
You proceeded to bang your fist against the table, laughing lightly, “We’re going to spend all day at Monster Con!” he pulled out two floppy pieces of paper from his back pocket as you gasped, “Oh I’m not finished yet, princess, we’ll also be wearing matching costumes I hand selected” You stood quickly, clapping at his theatrical performance as he bowed, repeating, “Thank you, thank you”. You made your way to infront of the boy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he enveloped your waist tightly, pressing you against him. “Not going dressed as your pesky alter ego, huh?” you joked staring up at the taller kid, earning you a slight pout, “No, he’s not invited” he grumbled. “Sorry, that joke was in poor taste” you apologized, shifting to run your thumb along his juted bottom lip to smooth out the lines.
“No worries, I know ya didn’t mean anything by it” your hand stayed cupping his cheek, both star-filled eyes trained on each other as you both wore the cheesiest grins. Just as you stood on your tip-toes to close the space between each other, a warm gust of breath blew against the palm holding Yuji still, “I was wondering why you hadn’t spoiled the moment” you sighed, lowering yourself to lean your forehead against Yuji’s chest instead. A small mouth carved into its host cheek frowned, now free to speak without your hand suffocating it, “I can handle the women’s teasing, however what have I done in my many lifetimes to have to suffer through this painful love-sick puppies act” Sukuna complained. “Many things actually” you responded, muffled by Yuji’s shirt that smelled of a citrusy-warm blend you couldn’t get enough of. “Why do you always kill the mood?” Yuji  groaned up towards the ceiling, earning himself a scoff from the demon king. “Oh? You mean like that I wouldn’t let y-” “SHUT UP!” Yuji slammed his hand against his own face to silence the man, his cheeks inflamed.
Now clad in matching costumes, you as frankenstein's wife and Yuji as Frankenstein, from the hair to the clothes to the make-up, you both spent the day without any further hiccups; how Yuji kept Sukuna at bay, you didn’t know, but I didn’t really matter. The stares from passengers on the train to the convention center was obvious to everyone but you two, lost in your own little love-sick world of old-fashion horror movies, delicious food, and pure, unfiltered content.
Megumi:
Megumi is a simple guy who likes simple things; he’s overworked and more exhausted than he even realizes, however he doesn’t acknowledge that...ever. In fact, you could run a mile ‘too quickly’ by his standards and he will have you take a break and drink his bottle of water (though you had your own and he knew that).
On your rare days off together, Megumi would silently stick to you like glue; he wants to do something for you in the creative way Yuji does and definitely wants to spend the time with you, but he can never come up with a complete idea of how to ‘wow’ you.
Except you didn’t need to be wowed, in fact you really were burnt out, so when the day came when you had  nothing to do but be together, you planned a whole day of nothing with a side of Netflix and take-out.
You knocked on the door to Megumi’s dorm that was just a few paces away from your own. It was almost noon and you still wore your pj’s from last night, cookie monster shorts and an old shirt of Megumi’s you took last week, having made no attempt to fix your hair. “Umi~!” you whined, banging on the door a little harder, the plastic bag from the convenience store rustling at your side. “Coming” Megumi opened the door in a similar state; pj’s still on and hair sticking in even weirder directions than normal.
“Mornin” you greeted with the faintest grin, “sorry to wake you” “ I was just getting up” he yawned while he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Sure I can tell by the bed head” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the boy. You waved the bag of goodies in front of his face, “Let me in, I’ll make it worth your while~” he chuckled, “I doubt it” despite his words he stood to the side, letting you past and closing the door behind you.
His dorm was dark and a little stuffy, clearly Megumi hadn’t had time to do the in depth cleaning the little neat-freak was so fond of. The continents of the bag clacked together and scattered around as you tossed it onto the small table in the corner, making your way over to his comfortable futon that smelled of his signature eucalyptus soaps. You flopped about for a moment, stretching, snuggling into the sheets still warm from Megumi, who was watching the small scene from the door, “C’mon Umi’ I wanna get through at least two episodes of SVU before we inevitably fall asleep wrapped in each others arms” you called dreamily with lidded eyes, already tired again as you buried beneath his sheets and pillows.
Megumi could feel his chest ache and stomach flutter at the image of the one who he cared for so much that it physically hurt laying there in his bed with soft, kind eyes just for him- it was almost too much. “Umi, I will eat all the sour snakes if you don’t come over here, your sheets are getting cold” Megumi was cut off by his own thoughts of admiration by your voice. He chuckled at the cute way your face cringed a bit at the sour-sweet taste of the candy before sliding into bed too, your head laying on his chest as he held you close. A small, genuine grin spread across his lips as the sound of Netflix starting rang from the TV, holding you even tighter, ‘this is perfect’
Nobara
Be ready to put on your best dressed because you and your girlfriend are hitting the town! Of course Nobara would find her way into the city whenever she could, foreign to the endless wonders the busy streets had to offer and luckily for her, you happened to be far more native with the many sights to see.
She’d let you sleep in, holding you tender as she traced her nails across your skin to form intricate patterns until you woke. You both would totally be the couple that wears matching outfits, the same colors and patterns tailored to your personal styles- of course this would also lead to thousands of pictures for Nobara’s instagram.  
You two would laughed, eat delicious foods, and would spend way more than either of you cared to admit nor did you want to because the price of absurd, unfiltered laughter and the feel of just a good time, was one both of you could pay a thousand times (and a new pair of shoes too)
The sun hung lower in the sky than it did when you started this little adventure before noon, having been sold on the idea by Nobara that she “only needed a few things” this morning. Now, exhausted perched on a steel chair outside some cafe you’d never heard of with your sore feet elevated on the other empty one you waited for your girlfriend who was inside somewhere.
“Jeez even my fingers are cramped” you groaned flexing your numb digits; shopping was a grueling vice because no matter how much you’ve already bought, more cute sweaters, tops, and matching accessories called to you by name and the art of saying ‘no’ wasn’t exactly in Ms.Kugisaki’s vocabulary. “Here ya’ go babe” Nobara emerged from the shop with two cups, handing one to you before sipping gingerly from her own. You brought the plastic straw to your lips, sighing in relief as the contents quelled a thirst you didn’t even know had been building up. “I don’t think we did too much damage” your face fell and eyes bulged, flailing your arms out around at the brightly colored parcels that littered the table and surrounding floor, “Nobara there are at least fifteen bags here”
She laughed, her hand falling on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, “Still no that bad”. She scooched her chair closer to yours, her thumb rubbing nonsense circles into the denim of your jeans, “What next?” she asked leaning into her seat, her brown irises watching yours fondly, “Food? We haven’t eaten since a lot earlier and I could turn into a wolf any second and eat you” you teased, though food sounded better and better the more you thought about it. “Eat me? You promise, baby?” Nobara’s smirk earned herself a not-so-graceful, but light kick from you.
“An impromptu picnic sounds great” Nobara decided, tapping against you in finality. It became a game: You both had 30 minutes to run around the delicious food district to pick out each other's favorites, as many as you liked (which would be more food than two can eat), then you’d reconvene at the same cafe. Nobara offered to pick up a blanket at the convenience store because she ‘knew you so well she wouldn’t need the whole half hour.’ The game was on and time was ticking as you both rushed in opposite directions with several bags and a hunger to please the other.
You scurred around each vendor, selecting different meat dishes and veggies, cakes and watermelon, and even splurged on some fancy sushi from the place she'd wanted to try. Your arms quivered under the weight of the many shopping bags and take-out boxes, but you were determined to get back first. “Just around the corner- Are you kidding me?!” you yelled. In the exact steel seat she sat in earlier, was Nobara with an array of bags around her, boxes and the blanket stacked neatly on the table with dark sunglasses adorning her face and her legs crossed cockily as she spoke smoothly, “Beat ya”
Both of you grossly overestimated the amount of food you could eat in one sitting as practically unopened boxes lay stacked on top one another on the blankets while watermelon rinds and used plates were thrown into a garbage bag. The sun was low, almost at the horizon, painting the sky in pastel oranges and pinks with hints of purple and blue; the spring chill had blown a little heavier now that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to stop the shivers. Nobara laid against the trunk of a tree with you between her legs, holding you as her manicured fingers idly massaged your scalp quietly- you would have fallen asleep at the small gesture had you not been actively keeping your eyes open. “The boys will be grateful for the food, I’d hate wasting it” she yawned to which you only hummed.
“Hey” you turned your head up slightly, only enough to meet her gaze, “today was really fun” she smiled, slithering across your arm to grab your cheeks gently in her fingers, forcing your lips to pucker, “yeah it was.” Your wobbly smile made Nobara feel things, too many things at once, and a lump began to form in her throat, “I love you” you mumbled, Nobara’s breath caught for only a moment, whispering a thick “me too.”
Masterlist 
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oh-boy-me · 4 years
Text
Demon Outfits Discussed
The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!
I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read!  Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.
Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them.  We’re just harping on their fashion sense.  Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!
Participants in the discussion were
Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.
Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.
Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms.  It’s not even that good.
Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77​ ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.
Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating.  It’s the worst.  2/10, not 6.
Lucifer:
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“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin
“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo
Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt.  Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.
His shoes match his outfit.  After last time that’s all I care about.
A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one?  Is that a book?  Dude has like 27 collars.
The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it.  But uh.  How about those red diamonds on his sleeves.  They.  They sure are there.  (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)
  Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead
The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it.  HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.
The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.
Can he fly?  Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair?  Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.
The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing.  Good job, Lucifer!  I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.
Definitely the classiest outfit.  You can tell they put care into it.
Mammon:
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“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING!  NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR.  HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin
The whole thing does amazing with only three colors.  We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey.  It’s working so far.
Damn those pants sit low.  No wonder literally all of you wear belts.
The leather jacket?  The studs and harness?  Bless.  Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.
Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though.  It looks better in the back.
“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo
Honestly though?  We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that.  He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit.  Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.
Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants.  Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle?  Because Mammon definitely won.
One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.
Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”
Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity.  Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings.  The center of gravity in the image is his shoes.  Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.
Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.
Leviathan:
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Diagonal zipper
“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan
He looks like an e-boy.
Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.
APPARENTLY the biggest hoe.  Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt.  I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out.  Ok Levi, I see you.
The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.
Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit.  It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.
The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.
Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between.  Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender.  What are his suspenders doing?  What are they attached to?  Are they holding anything up?  Apparently not.
Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit.  Cute!
The gloves are throwing us off though.  Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves?  I bet he has sweaty hands.
Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces?  Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole?  There’s even a button, just in case.
Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game.  Should have just zipped his hood.
Satan:
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HONEY.
“I hate everything about this.” —Megan
First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt.  Does it only button down the back?  Can he take it off?
Then he spilled bleach on his pants.  Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.
Incredibly differing opinions on the belt.  He got it in the cowboy department.  Justin adores it.  Jo despises it.
And are those… athletic slip ons?
And now the elephant in the room.  The ribcage made of ribbons.  The ribboncage.  The idea is great!  I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.
But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans.  And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form.  Not that it looks goofy.  It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.
Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness.  Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach.  Ew.
The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office.  (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)
“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin
On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green.  Feels dangerous.  Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though.  Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.
That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.
I just????
Merry Christmas.
Asmodeus:
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The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.
Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.
I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.
Starting with the good.  The wings?  Adorable.  The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them?  Adorable.  One of the only good adjustments.
And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!
We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.
But once again, the shirt just has too much going on.  The flowers.  The buttons.  The brick-pattern stitching.  The brooch.  The long collar.  The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch.  Sometimes less is more, Asmo.
That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt.  It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry.  Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.
The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea!  But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink.  And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink.  Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm.  Is he ok.
I’ve been avoiding the pants, but.  The pants.
“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo
One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain.  It’s too extreme on both ends.  It should have been only half a leg of buckles.  Not whatever this is.  I still don’t think he can bend that leg.
The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.
Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.
We expected better from you, Asmo.  I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.
Beelzebub:
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He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”
Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.
The jacket?  Stunning.  “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin.  It’s got puffy sleeves!  And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it.  Justin and Jo can’t.
I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.
“Why is it bucked in the back?  Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan
Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.
I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face.  Jo wants the white belt to be thinner.  Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.
Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.
Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots.  I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.
Can’t fault the twin belt, though.  And the wing hole isn’t terrible.
Idk I guess.  They knew what they wanted to do at least.  
That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.
Belphegor:
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“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin
A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.
Is it a hoodie?  A jacket?  A poncho?  The cow print actually isn’t terrible.  At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting.  And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.
On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color.  “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.
We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever.  Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing.  Feel like he didn’t need that many.  Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.
There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back?  Megan apparently finds that VERY important.  Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow?  Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7.  Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.
Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.
It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but.  Am I biased because I hate harem pants?  Maybe.  Are these harem pants too short on him?  Yes.  Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris?  But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet.  At least they look comfy.
If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down?  Probably.  That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.
The shoes are fine.  I can enjoy a high topped sneaker.  …Is that a security tag?  Did he steal his shoes.  Belphie stole his shoes.
On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty.  But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.
Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon?  He just looks like… a cow.
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There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes.  Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design.  Is it dynamic?  Is it recognizable?  Jo ranked them as such:
1. Lucifer: 9/10.  Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10.  Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10.  His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10.  Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10.  The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.
Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:
Mammon
Lucifer
Leviathan
Belphegor
Beelzebub
Asmodeus
Satan
In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.
582 notes · View notes
fandom-blackhole · 3 years
Note
Now that I have time and some motivation let's get down to business.
Paz also has tattoos for you,
One of your name in mando'a,
Second of the star constellation that you spotted on your trip, we love our wiccan king,
He'd 10000% be the guy to get his child's birth date tattooed,
Paz posting his precious doggo on instagram?,
Oh or Paz starting a culinary YouTube channel???,
And also showing his of the grid lifestyle?,
showing his animal rescue and promoting adoptions!,
He is buffy, handsome, funny, loves children and animals, dresses good and is the best chef, so there are many fanboys and fangirls in his comments thirsting over him,
When the comments asking if he is single get too overwhelming, he asks you to tune in for some vlogs,
You'd definitely film a mukbang video!!,
And also these crazy spicy noodle challenges,
Boba accidentally disliking all of Paz' videos?? (we are still onto tech-grandpa Boba? 😂),
You have to make sure that he doesn't post any pictures done by his hand,
He'd retweet funny clips of cats and cute pictures from Jango Investigation company's official profile,
Also him leaving embarrassing comments on your profile?
Or not knowing that there is function to dm you on instagram,
So he comments on your recent holiday trip picture ''you looked good in this swimsuit princess, shame on me I tore it apart'' or ''looking tempting babygirl, be ready, sir will be home soon'',
Din doesn't really care for sm?,
Like he used to be a casual user,
But one day people were flooding his comments and dms, spamming him with @pascalisapunk,
He noticed that you were watching youtube kids with Grogu,
(oh now I hope you will know what is going on) Grogu really likes watching cocomelon,
So Din tricked him to watching PewDiePie instead,
You don't like it tho, thinking these videos are too edgy and stupid for both of them,
''Din you've watched too many of these videos and you became a brain-rotten himbo I don't want the same to happen to our son!'',
Din and Grogu playing Minecraft together? 🥺,
Also Paz has the best town in Animal crossing for sure!,
Surprise, surprise Boba actually likes and knows how to(!!!) play Mafia game (well it's from 2002 so maybe that's why lol),
But he is the king of board games,
Especially Monopoly!!!
Also not to mention cars games,
He made you play strip poker with him 😳,
Paz and you doing a baby shower at his restaurant!!,
Imagine big daddy bear Paz with a little babygirl 😍😍😍, (Bummer that we don't have an official name for the Armorer, could be honored by Paz naming his baby after her 😭),
Grogu telling his friends at school that his daddy is also an actor lol,
Few days later bunch of 5 year olds are asking him if this is the way to the restroom, if he can bring in some hot chocolate, and doing the baby yoda batuu sound at him lol,
Poor Din, but he secretly loves it, he just loves children,
So imagine his combustion when you tell him that you are having a little Djarin 😍,
Paz helping with babyshower??,
And Boba is totally on buying you a new, bigger apartment as a gift lol,
''What, Djarin? Can't have my little nephew and favorite sister-in-law who is pregnant living in your excuse of an apartament'' lol Boba has no chill,
Grogu gets addicted to bubble tea,
And it isn't because of your introduction, you knew better not to let him drink too often,
But everyday, after coming back from the kindergarten Din and Grogu would stop by your favorite bubble tea shop,
Grogu totally wants a little brother!,
And Din is thinking about a little babygirl or better, why not both, or even better two little boys and a little girl and Grogu being their big bro 😍,
You better be ready for some intensive wrestling sessions,
You and Din have no idea why, but lately, he seems to cum A LOT MORE,
When Boba carries out the tradition you are pregnant,
Pregnant with twin boys,
And the look identical, like they were literally cloned 😉,
Boba wouldn't throw a huge babyshower,
He is too afraid after the incident involving you and the rival syndicate,
Actually Boba decided that you should move from the downtown, to live in a more low-key area,
So you are now living in a palace 😉 in the suburbs
Boba gets you a private driver and a bodyguard,
But most of the time he tries to drive you to work since you both have offices in the downtown area,
Your daily commute can get really pleasurable for both of you 😳,
Boba has his own shooting range lol, king of extra right?
One day when you were babysitting Grogu at your place you found out that Boba was teaching the kid about shooting,
You were furious,
''C'mon princess, haven't I told you about me and my father? He showed me how to use a gun when I was even younger than Grogu'',
Srsly, this man,
Giving him a death glare you take Grogu and treat him for some bubble tea
-🐣
Oh yeeesss let's get to business....
Paz's tattoos 😭😭😭 so cute (kind of reminds me of my dad, he has all of our names)
Paz totally has an Instagram dedicated to Ad'ika
Paz being thirsted after on his YouTube is so cute
But his followers also really ship the two of you, because you both are just couple goals
Paz makes you the cutest anniversary video and posts it to his YouTube
Paz is a total gamer, he absolutely loves Animal Crossing and he makes a whole section of his town dedicated to you
Paz throws the absolute cutest baby shower and anyone and everyone is invited
You both decide to wait until after the baby is born to find out the gender, and Paz has a raffle going on at the restaurant where people can guess the gender
Armorer = Amira? Amara? Andromeda??
He makes you both cute matching sweaters for your characters
Paz is the one that introduced Grogu to minecraft
Boba cause so much havoc on social media
He totally is leaving thirst comments under your pictures on Instagram not realizing everyone else can see them too
You have a Instagram set up for Fennec too because she is just so photogenic, at least when you take the pictures
I think Boba is actually pretty proficient at using Twitter, and its more or less because he uses it to stalk people 9/10
You have a tumblr where you tease and make fun of Boba, mostly posting quotes or the silly pictures that Boba takes
Boba totally dominates at any board game, but especially Monopoly
That game of strip poker did not last long at all, and you think Boba quite literally was hiding aces up his sleeves
Boba makes sure you are always thoroughly satisfied before he drops you off at work every morning
When Boba finds out you're pregnant he celebrates, and its huge
He starts going all out buying anything and everything he can/wants
When he finds out its twin boys he is over the moon
Names for the boys, Jango and Jaster? Rex and Cody??
Boba totally buys some big house outside of town, that has anything and everything you could ever ask for
It also has a panic room and state of the art safety because Boba isn't taking chances with you or the boys
Also, bringing the babysitting saga to the modern au 😭😭
You walk in on Boba handing Grogu a gun and you flip out, yelling at him
He just shrugs and you take Grogu away and say that your kids WILL N O T learn how to do any of that stuff until they are atleast teenagers
Boba pouts because you ruined his and Grogu's bonding time
When Din comes to pick up Grogu, Grogu looks him in the eye and says "cocksucker"
Din has a heart attack and Boba laughs as you yell at him asking where he heard that
Grogu says that he heard uncle Boba say it while on the phone
Din tries to follow Paz’s recipes from his YouTube, and it always turns out badly and you have to come in and save it
Din totally loves Pewdiepie's humor
Din gets frustrated with social media and ends up just making an empty account so he can follow you and watch videos, but after the whole Pedro Pascal disaster he never posts anything
Grogu and you are his profile picture though
When Grogu goes around telling the kids at school he is the mandalorian he just sighs
And when all of the kids start quoting the show, he just starts quoting them back so they will stop bothering him
When Din announced the pregnancy Paz got so excited to have another nephew/niece
Paz lets Din hold the baby shower at the restaurant and he makes all of the food, including little gender reveal cake pops
Paz gifts the two of you a photo album at has pictures of the two of you and grogu, but it is still half empty so you can add more memories of your expanding family
Boba just hands Din house keys a day says the place is paid off and he's covering the bills for the first year (he also had a nice play set built in the backyard for Grogu)
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dirt-cup-draco · 4 years
Text
Sirius x Reader- Everyone But Me
Can u please do young!sirius x reader in which the reader is friends with Lily and the marauders. And in an attempt to try and see if Lily has any feelings for James, u flirt with James. And James being James goes along with it, also bc he knows Sirius likes u and he thinks it’s funny. Which does in fact not only make Lily jealous but also Sirius. Could the reader also be mega bffs with Rem please? I’m just a slut for jealous Sirius. I’m glad ur feeling better, I love you pumpkin
“I can’t believe you!” You giggled, head resting in the crook of Remus’ neck as you lost your composure. The marauders were devilish on and off the quidditch pitch and you weren’t going to tell anyone that peter had been muttering curses underneath his breath to throw off the Slytherin seeker while James worked on winning the game. 
“It was harmless, really, we would’ve won the game regardless,” Sirius chimed in, tossing his arm around you and pulling you from Remus’ side into his own as he fought back the small twang of jealousy he felt. He knew that Remus had his eye on that McKinnon girl that Lily was so fond of but he couldn’t help it. He loved that you were close with everybody he cared about. Sirius couldn’t ever fall for someone who wouldn’t give his friends a chance, but he also felt fear.
Fear that he wasn’t good enough in comparison to them. Remus was kindhearted and intelligent, possessing a calm and intelligence that Sirius thought he’d never have. Peter was in his head but he had good intentions and was cute, Sirius didn’t pull off cute well- in his own opinion that was. And then there was James Potter. James, his best friend and the golden boy of gryffindor. 
Which brought him to the whomping willow, hours later, back pressed against the dusty planks within the tree. When it wasn’t being used as a safe haven for Remus during the full moon it was a nice place for them to meet up and spend hours getting up to no good and enjoying their youth. You were all sat in a circle, you sitting directly between Remus and James, Sirius across from you. 
It was a miracle you hadn’t noticed that his eyes had been trained on you since the second you had arrived with a smug smile and firewhisky tucked behind your back to share. 
It was a miracle that Sirius didn’t notice the sly look you sent Lily’s way. You had a gleam in your eye and you finished off the cup of firewhisky you had in your hand, just enjoying the pleasant warmth that had spread through you. It was late and the whomping willow wasn’t the warmest of places as October reached its midpoint. 
“So James, brilliant play today,” You cooed, changing the subject so the focus was on James and James alone. Sirius felt sick but watched in curiosity. 
“Course it was,” James laughed but smiled back, sending a long look to Sirius, assessing him. Sirius was too stuck in his own mind to realize that he was being studied, he didn’t realize that to James the jealousy was clear. 
You watched Lily similarly, finding the way that her expression soured as she watched you, her own jealousy beaming through. Remus watched in amusement. Sirius and Lily were quite possibly the two most emotionally constipated people he had ever met in his life. 
James looked to you for a moment and your lips split into a wide grin, you winked, you actually bloody winked! Sirius felt disturbed but mainly disheartened. He didn’t like watching you express interest in James, he wanted it to be him regardless what James might feel towards you. Which seemed to be similar to your own feelings as he winked back. 
“I did it of course, for you dear Y/N,” James nearly laughed at the painful flirt that made it way past his lips. It was like trying to flirt with his sister, awkard and unnatural. You two had been stuck on a bet of sorts recently. James was adamant that Sirius was head over heels for you and you were certain Lily was begging the universe for James to make the first move, just so she didn’t have to lose her Evans pride by asking him first. 
You set your hand on James’ thigh as you talked, both egging on the other teens in the room that you fancied. It seemed to be too much for Sirius though as he hopped up from his reclined and faux relaxed position. 
“I’ve got to go,” Was all he said before he was running out. Peter looked at you all with shame and Remus snorted, hand held open for James to drop nearly a galleon’s worth of sickles into his waiting palm. Lily raised her brow in question as Marlene sipped at the firewhisky, soaking up the drama. 
“On you go then,” James directed, head jerking towards the entrance. 
You chewed your lip pensively. “I still don’t think you’re right,” 
“Our plan went just like we thought it would so what are you waiting for?” James asked and Lily’s mouth opened to ask but Remus shot her a look that told her she would be finding out very soon. 
“If you’re wrong-” You argued, nervous that Sirius wouldn’t feel the same. What if he did but didn’t now that you had been cruel? Jealousy was a feeling that tied your stomach in knots and made your heart feel like a concrete weight in your chest. If Sirius was feeling anything like that then you didn’t doubt he would be cross with your little game. 
“He’s not,” Remus reassured, hand warm on your back as he sent you an encouraging smile. “Sirius is mad for you, so go to him already.” 
You finally nodded, brushing the dust from your jeans as you chased after the boy that you hadn’t had the guts to tell how you felt without playing childish games. You hoped he wasn’t too upset. 
--
“Hey,” Your voice drifted on the icy breeze, features distorted by the moon’s light being broken up through the clouds above and Sirius froze in his tracks that had been leading anywhere that wasn’t near the whomping willow. “You left pretty quick,” 
You stood a few feet behind him with a perfect smile on your face, concerned about him. He cracked his own smile but if felt cheap and brittle. “Just needed some air, drank too much probably,” 
“You didn’t touch the firewhisky all night,” You pointed out and Sirius watched you intently.
“Guess not,” He shrugged lamely, not offering any explanation as to why he was lying to you. You understood he was hurt, or at least feeling inadequate, and it was up to you to make the first step. 
“Want to talk about it?” You asked, not quite sure what to do now.
“Nothing to talk about,” He couldn’t help the bitter tone. Why tell you how he felt when you clearly fancied James? Why else would you be all over his friend? But... that begged another question. Why were you here and not with James when you had both seemed to be enjoying each other’s flirting? 
“Alright then,” You said, smile stiff but you didn’t seem deterred as you grabbed Sirius’ hand in yours. “If you don’t have something to say, then I do. I’m sorry,” You opened your mouth to say more but it seemed stuck in your throat. 
Sirius could feel your palm, sweaty against his own as you struggled for words. “You’re sorry?” He prompted, not sure why you were apologizing. Your cheeks were red but he chalked it up the buzz and the chill in the air that was pricking at his own skin and undoubtedly battling the sweater you wore and winning. You shivered. 
“I’m sorry for being an idiot, I didnt mean to make you jealous-” 
“I wasn’t jealous!” Sirius immediately squeaked, face hot. 
You laughed. Sirius winced. 
“Whatever you and James are it’s cool, I’m not jealous,” He defended again, shielding his own emotions from you. You were still laughing! Was this funny to you? Sirius tore his hand from yours, making his way back towards the school. 
“Siri!” You sighed, realizing you once again had shared too little. “James and I aren’t anything! It was a trick, a prank, really! I was trying to get Lily to admit she liked James and he was doing the same to you.... Both of us are idiots,” 
Sirius stood still once again but he was almost too nervous to face you as you caught back up to him. “What’s the point? Why make a mockery of us?” 
“I-it wasn’t supposed to be that... I don’t want to mock you, I want you to know I like you, a lot,” 
Sirius scoffed. “Funny way of showing it,” Yet, his defenses had fallen with that one blow. Y/N liked him? Surely she couldn’t mean it. 
“I know,” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his once more as you tugged him to face you, his eyes darting around as he refused to make eye contact. He was trying to keep from looking hopeful in case this was still just one big joke. 
“Why?” He asked.
“I told you silly, because I like you and I’m an idiot and-” 
“No,” Sirius cut you off. “I mean, why me? Why not James? He’s- well he’s just better... Honestly, anyone would be better than me. I like you, oh merlin, I like you, Y/N-”
“But?” You encouraged.
“But you deserve better and anyone else would be a better match...” Sirius continued, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone. “I thought for a while you liked Remus and now James and I- Well I thought you liked everyone but me.” 
To anyone that wasn’t you or the marauders, Sirius would sound indifferent as he admitted his own low self esteem. To you, however, you realized just how stupid it was to make Sirius sit in his self doubt to try and get him to say he liked you instead of just admitting it yourself. 
“James is like my brother,” You wrinkled your nose in mock disgust. “I couldn’t ever feel that way about him! It’s always been you Sirius, I don’t care about anyone else the way I care about you. Remus is my best friend and James and Peter are like my annoying siblings, but that is all. You mean far more to me,” 
Sirius blinked slowly. “But I’m-” 
“Perfect,” You smiled. “In every way,” 
Sirius felt like he’d been punched. 
“So,” You blushed. “All that being said, would you do me the honor of letting me make up for my mistake and take you on a date?” 
Sirius beamed, kissing your knuckles as he squeezed your hand in response. “How could I deny you the honor of going on a date with all this?” He motioned to himself, his false confidence blurring with real confidence as he tried to process that you actually liked him! 
“Can I ask one thing though?” He chimed in after a moment of charged silence. 
“Of course,” You let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 
“Please, never do that again,” Sirius laughed weakly.
You agreed and pulled him into a tight hug, only pulling away when the rest of your friends found you some odd minutes later, stuck in a cozy embrace.
That weekend, you and Sirius, as well as James and Lily, had a lovely double date. The kiss you’d given him after had told Sirius all he need to know. It was him and only him and had been for quite some time. All was well.  
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connorswhisk · 3 years
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mistletoe ain’t all it’s cracked up to be
Summary: This holiday season, Bitty's devised a plan: stick mistletoe over every doorframe in the Haus.
This is fine. As long as Ransom makes sure not to walk into a room with Holster under any circumstances, it's fine.
Ugh. He hates this stupid plant.
also on my ao3
“Ok, you lost me,” Holster says. “Why haven’t you done this before?”
Bitty huffs, clearly none too happy about being interrupted. “I don’t know why you don’t want to hear about the new cookie recipe my Mama found, especially considering you’ll end up eating half of them, Adam, but fine. I didn’t put up mistletoe frog year because I wasn’t living in the Haus yet, and I didn’t put it up last year because I waited too long and the Stop ’N Shop ran out.”
“Wait, wait,” Ransom cuts in. “Murder Stop ’N Shop or Smelly Stop ’N Shop?”
Bitty sighs and gives him a Look, but Ransom just shrugs. It’s an important question.
“Murder Stop ’N Shop, who do you think I am? I don’t want my mistletoe stinkin’ like the LAX team’s locker room.”
(“Nice,” Holster says, nodding sagely. Ransom elbows him.)
“Anyway,” Bitty says. “I went ahead and got there early this month.” He lifts a sprig triumphantly. “And here we are. Pick me up.”
Holster crouches, grabs Bitty around the middle, and holds him up to the front doorframe.
(Ransom tries not to stare at the strip of skin showing as Holster’s sweatshirt rides up. It takes a lot of effort.)
“That should do it,” Bitty says once he’s back on the ground. “Thanks, y’all. I’m gonna go get baking, now.”
And he heads off to the kitchen.
“Got any plans?” Ransom asks. 
Holster shrugs. “Annie’s?”
“Sure.”
They start for the door at the same time, and then Holster flings out an arm and Ransom stops. 
“Oh,” he says, looking up at the cheerily green plant hanging narrowly close to directly above their heads. “Right.”
Holster steps through first, and after a beat, so does Ransom.
Holster’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners underneath his glasses. “With the amount of time we spend walking through doorways together, it’s bound to happen eventually,” he jokes. 
Ransom snorts. “You wish,” he chirps back.
What he doesn’t say is, That’s what I’m afraid of.
— — — 
It’s not like Ransom’s never kissed Holster before. They’re on a hockey team, they throw a lot of kegsters, large quantities of alcohol are consumed, it isn’t difficult to do the math. But those occasional drunken make-outs are just that: drunken make-outs. They don’t mean anything, not in the way Ransom wishes they could. They’re sloppy, and quick, and they taste like tub juice, and Holster seems to always end up spilling his beer on either himself, the floor, or Ransom, and they’re pointless, just a bit of fun, and…
And from what Ransom can remember of them, really fucking hot. When your best friend is a 6’6 Adonis with killer abs and eyes bluer than the Pacific ocean, that’s kind of unavoidable. It’s also why Ransom’s so terrified of all this mistletoe.
Kegster kisses don’t have to count, and they don’t. But under the mistletoe? A time-honored, over-done, clichéd holiday tradition? Odds are, if they get stuck under there, they won’t be drunk. And while Ransom knows that Holster will have no problem kissing him and then having a laugh about it, Ransom’s not sure how well his brain’s going to process the inevitable. 
He’s in love with Adam Birkholtz, and there’s really nothing to be done about it. Ransom can’t ever tell him because it’ll ruin their carefully cultivated bromance, their fucking co-captaincy, kick everything out of sync, throw a wrench into the coral reef and eff it up entirely. Holster isn’t going to return his feelings, and Ransom still can’t come to terms with that fact.
He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to do that.
— — — 
“Yo, you want me to bring you back some latkes after break, right?”
Ransom scoffs. “Dude, is that even a question? Of course. You’re sure your dad won’t mind?” he tacks on as an afterthought.
Holster rolls his eyes, panting a little with the effort of bench-pressing the weight across his chest. “Are you kidding me? My dad like, gets off on cooking for other people. We can’t take him to potlucks because he ends up bringing a whole buffet.”
Ransom laughs. “Nice. I’ll make sure to get my auntie to bake you some of her ginger snaps.”
Holster sets the barbell back on the hooks and sits up, grinning widely, a drop of sweat trickling its way down from his temple. “Don’t tell Bitty, but Auntie Oluransi’s ginger snaps are probably better than his.”
Ransom says, “Careful he doesn’t hear you say that, or you’ll be banned from pie-eating for a month,” and then, “Spot me?”
“Duh,” Holster says, and they trade places.
Ransom’s just about to start lifting when Holster whispers, “Dude, check it.”
Ransom pushes himself up on his elbows and glances over at where Holster’s looking. Nursey and Dex are standing in the weight room doorway, staring up at the mistletoe Bitty had stuck to the top the week before. Nursey’s eyebrows are raised and Dex’s face is starting to redden. Chowder’s standing by, looking unsure of what to do. Ransom knows they’ve got about ten seconds before the yelling starts. 
“I mean,” Holster says, shaking his head as Dex shouts out an, Are you kidding me, Nursey?!?! “You’d think they’d realize that they don’t actually have to kiss. It’s just mistletoe.”
“Right,” Ransom says, lying back down to start lifting. “Just mistletoe.”
And then he starts thinking that even if he and Holster ended up in that situation, Holster might not even want to kiss him. He might just walk away.
Ransom isn’t sure which is the better alternative.
— — — 
He ends up getting screwed with Jada Forrester, who usually sits near him when he’s studying in the library. Ransom’s not actually that into her - sure, she’s nice, and she’s pretty cute, and she does this thing when she’s concentrating super hard where she bites down on her lip a lot, but he’s never really considered asking her out. Holster must have gotten the sense that Ransom’s more into her than he really is. 
Jada’s wearing this red Christmas dress that looks real nice on her, and she’s got a string of tinsel in her hair, and sparkly gold eyeshadow, and glitter all over her face. Ransom feels a little underdressed in his knitted sweater with the ice skates and hockey pucks on it, but his date doesn’t seem to mind, so he tries not to worry about it too much.
“This is fun,” Jada yells over the music, some bass-heavy remix of “Sleigh Ride” that’s making Ransom’s head buzz.
“Yeah,” he shouts back. “Do you want to get a drink?”
Jada nods, grabs Ransom by the hand, and pulls him over to the kitchen where the alcohol is.
“I never know what to get,” she says, staring at the table. 
“Mmm,” Ransom hums, not really paying attention. He’s just noticed Holster and Pauline Fishbein making out in the hallway. It isn’t a super heartening sight.
It’s not like Holster hasn’t had his fair share of girlfriends and hookups. It’s not like Ransom hasn’t had his, either. They’re open about it with each other, give each other dating advice and consolation after bad breakups, like any friends do. It’s normal. It’s casual. It’s not a big deal.
It’s just that this is the first year that Ransom has known how he feels about Holster. And now it seems like maybe it was all a big deal, after all.
“You like him.”
Ransom nearly jumps out of his skin. “What?”
Jada hands him a snowflake-patterned solo cup of beer and takes a sip of her own. “Adam.” She nods towards the hall. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”
Ransom stares down into his drink. “Would you believe me if I said no?”
“Not really. It’s a little obvious,” Jada says, shrugging.
Ransom’s pulse quickens. “Oh,” he says, and takes a long drink of beer. God, this is awkward. “I hadn’t realized.”
“I mean, anytime I saw you in the library, he was with you,” she continues. “And half the time you were leaning on his shoulder while you worked.”
“Uh - “ Ransom is pretty sure that half of said shoulder-leaning was automatic, that he did it without thinking because he knew that Holster would let him. The realization isn’t exactly helping his case.
“It’s ok,” Jada says, nodding. “I don’t mind. I’m guessing he doesn’t know, since he set us up.”
“No.” Ransom swallows. “He doesn’t know. I don’t know how to tell him.” He looks up at Jada. “You’re not pissed off?”
“No way, dude,” she says, eyes getting big and shaking her head. “I’m honestly just here for a good time. I’m not really looking for a hook-up or a relationship or anything.”
“Oh. Ok.”
She rolls her eyes. “Man, lighten up. How likely is it that Adam’s gonna keep seeing this girl after this party?”
Ransom shrugs. “It depends. Sometimes he goes out with them afterwards, sometimes not.”
“Ok,” Jada says. “So there’s a pretty good chance he won’t. And, bro, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he returned the feelings.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not!” she exclaims. “Seriously. Even if he isn’t into you, he’s still your best friend. I don’t think he’ll freak out if you tell him.”
“Right,” Ransom says, taking another, smaller sip. “Ok.”
Jada drains the rest of her cup. “Whatever, forget I said anything if you want. Let’s keep dancing.”
Ransom finishes off his beer, too. “Yeah, let’s keep dancing.”
They’re leaving the kitchen when Jada suddenly stops. 
Ransom frowns. “What’s up?”
“Huh,” Jada says, looking up. “Mistletoe. I didn’t even notice it when we came in.”
“Oh,” Ransom says. “Oh, yeah, our teammate put them up. I kind of forgot about them.” He looks at her. “Um. You don’t want to…?”
Jada raises an eyebrow. “Shut up,” she says, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and drags him back out to the living room. 
Ransom spends the rest of the night drinking and dancing with Jada. He doesn’t catch sight of Holster and Pauline Fishbein again, and he doesn’t think much about it until he goes up to the attic at three in the morning and finds them in Holster’s bunk, asleep. 
He doesn’t do anything, just turns out the light and stares into the dark for what feels like hours before finally drifting off.
— — — 
Ransom manages to be in the kitchen by two. Bitty’s already in there of course, way too chipper for the morning/afternoon after Winter Screw, or any Kegster, for that matter. 
“Morning, Ransom!” 
Ransom winces. “Bits. Loud.”
Bitty rolls his eyes. “Oh, whatever. Not my fault you got drunk last night.”
Ransom’s about to fire something back when Bitty shoves a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of his coffee in his hands, effectively shutting him up.
“I love you,” he says, and Bitty hums and goes back to whatever it is he’s doing at the counter.
Ransom sits down and mindlessly scrolls through his Twitter feed, shoving his face with eggs and trying to wake his brain up. He doesn’t really have much to do today, but he absolutely hates being hungover, even a little bit, so the sooner he gets out of this stage of post-Kegster blues, the better.
“Yo, are those eggs?” 
Ransom glances behind him. Holster’s alone. Pauline must have left.
Good.
“Here you go,” Bitty says, swooping in and giving Holster his own plate and mug. “And that’s the last of it, so if you want more, you can make it yourself.”
“Nice.” Holster sits next to Ransom, knocks shoulders with him casually, and digs in.
“Have fun last night?” Ransom asks. 
Holster shrugs, mouth full. He swallows. “Yeah, it was all right.”
Ransom looks back down at his phone. “Ok.”
“How’d things work out with Jada?”
“We just hung out,” Ransom says. “Nothing really happened.”
Holster frowns. “Oh. Shit, did I fuck up this year?”
“No,” Ransom says quickly. “It’s fine. I still had a nice time, we just…we didn’t end up doing anything.”
Holster’s quiet for a second before he nods. “Yeah, ok. Sorry, bro, I thought you were into her.”
Ransom shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Holster smiles. Ransom’s chest hurts.
“Hey,” he starts to say, though he has no idea how he’s going to finish. “I - “
He’s interrupted by Bitty blasting Beyoncé through the Bluetooth speaker, making them both wince. Nursey (who’s apparently been passed out on the couch this whole time) groans loudly, and Bitty calls, “Sorry, but it’s about time the rest of y’all got up!”
“You think Jack would let him get away with that if he were still captain?” Holster mutters. 
“Dude,” Ransom says. “I think Jack would let Bitty get away with anything. That man is whipped.”
Holster snorts and knocks his shoulder against Ransom’s again. Ransom grins.
— — —
“What time is your flight?” 
It’s an hour later, and they’re sitting on Holster’s bunk watching random episodes of 30 Rock. Ransom may not always get the hype, but he does enjoy watching it with Holster a lot, even if he’s not always paying attention. It’s been a pastime of their’s since at least sophomore year.
“Ugh.” Holster groans. “It’s at nine.”
Ransom shrugs. “Being at the airport at night is kinda fun.”
“Yeah, I guess. It’s just, y’know. Kegster.”
“Right,” Ransom says, smirking. “This is why I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Shut up.” Holster watches Liz Lemon cram a sandwich down her throat, and then he says, “I’d totally wolf my Teamster sub for you, bro.”
“Dude, I still don’t really understand what that means,” Ransom says. “But thanks. And I guess I’d do the same for you?”
Holster grins and holds out his fist. “Fuck yeah, bro.”
Ransom taps it with his own. “Fuck yeah.”
And their hands don’t really stop touching even after they fist bump, but Ransom doesn’t freak out about it, he totally doesn’t freak out about it. Nope. Not at all.
It’s not like it’s never happened before.
— — — 
“So. Latkes?” Ransom asks.
“Chyeah,” Holster says. “Latkes. Ginger snaps?”
“Ginger snaps,” Ransom agrees.
They’re in the living room. Holster’s about to leave for the airport. Ransom had offered to go with him and see him off there, but Holster’d told him he didn’t want to put him through the holiday season blitz a day earlier than Ransom has to, which, fair.
The Haus is uncharacteristically quiet. Everyone else seems to be packing to go home, too.  Ransom hasn’t even started yet, and the fact is grating at the back of his mind, but he hasn’t packed because he spent the whole day with Holster, so it’s justified.
“Well,” Holster says, adjusting the straps of his backpack and stepping backwards onto the porch, roller bag in hand. “See you in the New Year, yeah?”
“Right. See you then.”
Ransom hugs him, long and tight and full, and when he leans back, Holster whistles and says, “Hey. Mistletoe.”
Ransom freezes. No. No way. Absolutely not.
He looks up, and that stupid green plant is smiling cheerily down at him, white berries glimmering, and Ransom silently and fiercely curses it, tradition, Bitty, the holiday season, and all plants in general because why is this happening this is not supposed to happen.
“Oh,” he says, barely able to hear himself over the rush in his ears. “Yep. Haha.”
God damn it, he’s spent all this time making absolutely sure not to walk through any doorways at the same time as Holster, always on the lookout for any mistletoe, Bitty’s or otherwise, and now, on the last day that it could possibly happen, he forgets. 
Of course.
“Well.” Ransom clears his throat. “Well, we don’t have to - “
“You don’t want to?”
Ransom stops. Blinks. Holster doesn’t look embarrassed, or upset, or - or anything really. He’s just sort of looking at Ransom, shrugging. “I mean, why not, right?”
Fuck. Holster’s just standing here in his Falconers cap and his Samwell hoodie and that same stupid pair of sweatpants that he’s always wearing, and he’s about to leave for the airport to go home for two weeks, and Ransom is not going to kiss him, he isn’t, he can’t - 
“Right,” Ransom says. “Why not.”
Shit. 
Holster’s eyebrows knit together. “Hey, I mean, it’s totally cool if you don’t want to. We don’t have to kiss.”
“I…” 
Holster breaks eye contact with him. “It’s fine, bro. I mean, I was halfway joking anyway - “
Ransom kisses him. It’s quick and messy and a little bit wet (gross), and it’s also really, really nice.
“Oh,” Holster says once Ransom leans back. “Ok then.”
“I’ll see you next year,” Ransom says. “Next year.”
“Yeah,” Holster mutters, blinking. His cheeks are dusted a rosy pink color, and Ransom can’t be sure if it’s from the cold or what. “Yeah, yeah.”
Ransom holds out a fist. Holster seems to shake himself awake. He grins and bumps it.
“Have a good time, bro,” he says.
“Have a good time,” Ransom repeats. He’s still not totally sure what just happened.
“Say hi to your sisters for me!” Holster calls out as he’s getting into his car. 
“Say hi to yours!” Ransom calls back, and once Holster’s gone, he shuts the door, slides down the wall, and just sits. 
He doesn’t know what’s going to happen now, but he does know that this is gonna be one hell of a New Year.
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spohkh · 3 years
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miracle on cornelia street [dean/castiel]
so BASICALLY sarah @adanceinasnowglobe and i were talking about what everyone would be up to post-series -- yknow, like, now that theyre all safe and healthy n everythings cool and destiel is officially together. yknow. as happened in canon -- and we were like so obviously destiel get a house, and thats kind of the basis of this verse so !! this is the foundational fic for what i HOPE will be a series of fun lil day-in-the-life drabbles, from both me and sarah!! 
ehehehe :-) enjoy!
read on AO3
The house is a quaint thing, sitting low and snug under a pair of shady oak trees in a quiet suburb just outside of downtown Lawrence. Its brickwork face is weathered—definitely in need of a good power wash—and the roof is just as worn. The bottom step to the porch slants unevenly, and the porch itself has cracks in the concrete. There are chips in the paint on the window frames, the iron porch railing is rusting, and who knows when the gutters were last given a proper cleaning.
There’s a lot of work to be done, but standing there in the small front lawn, Dean Winchester can’t say if he’s ever seen anyplace else so perfect as the house at 3767 Cornelia Street. Dean’s house—his home. His home with Cas.
“Can you believe it?” he quietly says to Miracle, who has been sitting patiently by Dean’s leg. Miracle tilts her head and wags her tail. Dean looks back up at the house. “Yeah, me neither.”
The sound of a familiar car rumbling up the road snaps Dean out of his reverie. He rubs a knuckle at his eye and clears his throat and tries to look like he hadn’t been standing in his front yard about to cry while talking to his dog, christ.
The car rolls to a stop on the curb just in front of the house. The driver’s side door opens, and Sam slowly unfolds his ridiculous limbs as he gets out. It’s always a wonder how he can fit himself into a car at all. Sam gives a dorky little wave as he ambles over to where Dean is standing.
Dean peers behind Sam, trying to see into the car. “What, no Eileen?”
“Hello to you, too. Dick,” he replies snarkily. “She’s wrapping up a work thing. She’ll come over when she’s done.”
Dean sucks his teeth in disappointment. “Ah, well. Guess you can go home then.” Sam shoves at his shoulder. Dean just laughs and pulls Sam in for a proper hello hug.
“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sam asks when they part.
“Can’t a man just hang out in his own front yard? Accompanied by a dashing canine companion?” He leans down to pat Miracle on the head.
“I guess…” Sam looks down at Miracle. When she tips her head up and gazes back at him, Sam snorts.
“What?”
“Miracle on Cornelia Street,” Sam says with mirth.
Dean squints at him. “What?” he repeats, now more incredulous.
“You know—like Miracle on 34th Street. But we’re on Cornelia, so.” He nods down at the dog. “Miracle on Cornelia Street.”
“Dude.” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s goofy grin and starts walking up the path to the house, Miracle trotting behind him. “Shut up and come inside already.”
Sam follows after him, pausing just inside the threshold as he spots something on the doorframe. “Oh, classy,” he says, throwing a sardonic look to where D.W. and C.W. are scratched into the wood.
“Just wait,” Dean jokes with a toothy smile, “when I got the time I’m gonna draw a little heart around it.” He was joking, but now that he said it, he kind of wanted to.
Cas looks up from the stove when they walk into the dining room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s old AC/DC tees, the logo all but worn away from being washed so many times. He’s usually in some ratty tee or other when lounging around these days. But in honor of Sam’s visit today (Cas’ words) and to seem a little more dressy short of donning his usual button-downs (Dean’s private opinion), he’s also wearing the cable-knit cardigan Sam got him as a gift last Christmas. “Hi, Sam.”
Sam leans against the counter that separates the dining and kitchen areas, craning his giraffe neck to catch a glimpse at the stove. “Hey, Cas! What’cha cooking?”
“Nothing. Dean made it. I was just watching the pot so it didn’t boil over.” He locks eyes with Dean, his intent stare very clearly communicating I did not touch the chili I added nothing I did not touch the dial I was just watching it like you asked so don’t even start.
Dean just smiles as he walks past the counter and steps into Cas’ space. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and busses Cas on the cheek.
“You’re welcome,” Cas replies warmly. He’s gazing up at Dean with those summer afternoon blue eyes, standing in one of Dean’s shirts and that dorky cardigan, and Dean starts to get full of that feeling from out in the front yard again. If they were alone, Dean would probably say something recklessly sappy like I am so stupid in love with you.
As it is, Dean clears his throat and turns back to Sam, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and says, “He did the salad.”
Cas sneaks him a knowing look before, thankfully, putting his attention on Sam without commenting on Dean’s hasty redirection. “I did the salad,” Cas agrees blithely, and places the salad bowl on the counter for Sam to see, seeming pleased with himself.
Sam looks between the two of them, an amused tilt to his eyebrow that Dean implicitly distrusts. He’s definitely thinking mocking thoughts about the two of them. But he just quirks a smile and says, “It looks great.” Shrewd little diplomat.
Cas shifts to the side to see past Sam’s shoulder. Sam glances behind himself before shooting Cas a confused look.
“She’s still at work,” Dean tells Cas, guessing who he’s looking for. “Sadly.”
“What, am I not good enough?”
“Of course you are,” Cas promises earnestly, just as Dean says, “Well…”
Sam’s opening his mouth to retort, probably something absolutely scathing, when his phone chimes. He pulls it out of his pocket, a smile spreading over his face. “Speak of the devil,” he says, then tips his head with a grimace, “as it were. That was Eileen. She’ll be here soon, so I’m gonna go wash up.”
“Bathroom’s down the hall—“
“Dude, I know where it is. I did help you guys move in.”
Dean spreads his hands in assent. “Fine, christ, I swear never to be a good host to you in my home ever again. Go ahead and go take your dump now.”
“I’m not gonna—ohmygodnevermind.” He turns on his heel and huffs down the hall, Miracle trotting after him, the tags on her collar clinking together jauntily.
Dean reaches past Cas to turn the burner off, then lands his hand on Cas’ hip. “Have I told you today how cute you are in that sweater?”
“Yes.” Cas brings his hands up to cradle Dean’s face. “Four times.”
“Make it five.” Dean kisses him. He pulls Cas into a hug, pressing his face against Castiel’s shoulder. They sway into each other. After a warm moment, Dean says in a low voice, “The first family dinner in our house.”
Cas hums a soft, contented sound in agreement. “The first of many,” he responds, just as quiet. Dean squeezes him tighter. He knows they’re both thinking about Jack and Claire, their bedrooms sitting empty and waiting for whenever they can find the time to visit—and Kaia and Alex and Jody with Claire, if they can, and Charlie and her girlfriend, and Bobby, and all the other wayward extensions of their sprawling family caught out in the wind. Their house isn’t big enough to host everyone, but with Sam and Eileen up the block and the bunker just a few miles out, there’s plenty of room to put up people who come out their way. Dean has the hope that 3767 Cornelia Street becomes a common pitstop for folks—a suburban Roadhouse, a tidier (much tidier) Singer Salvage.
Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ neck, and Cas breathes a sweet little sigh that pushes all thoughts about future dinners right out the window. Fuck, this dinner could go out the window, for all he cares. He kisses a little higher up, right under Cas’ jawline, before pulling back to catch Castiel’s darkened gaze. “How ‘bout we ditch the nag and go have a private party of our own?”
“Dean, no. I worked really hard on that salad.” He sounds perfectly serious, but the playful glint in his eye gives him away. Dean snorts, mumbling oh, forgive me, Chef Cas as he leans in again.
Just as they kiss, Sam walks back in. “Hey, I think something’s wrong with your sink–- oh, sorry.”
“Huh?” Dean reluctantly pulls away as Sam clears his throat, looking sheepish. “What’s wrong with what, Sammy?”
“Uh, with your bathroom.”
“The bathroom? Oh, what, you clogged the toilet?”
“Wha— N—  I DID NOT SHIT IN YOUR BATHROOM.”
“Then how did the toilet get messed up?”
“It’s the SINK, the SINK—”
“You took a shit in the sink?”
Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean…”
“What? He started it.”
“Started WHAT?”
Dean snaps his fingers. “The end of the world.”
“Oh! My god!”
“I guess technically, yeah, since god is our kid...” He turns to Cas. “Weird, weird lives we lead.”
Cas just shakes his head, clearly exasperated. Sam has given up on speaking completely and has fallen back on making a gesture like he’s one second away from grabbing Dean by the throat.
“I was there for all twelve years of it,” Sam says to Cas, “and I still can’t believe you stayed with this guy.”
“Well,” Cas muses serenely, “you’ve been here a lot longer than me.”
Sam grimaces when Dean throws him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing like his two favorite people bonding over how much of a pain he is.
The sound of the front door opening distracts them, and then a voice calls, “Knock knock! The life of the party has arrived!”
“Eileen!” Sam exclaims happily. Miracle takes off down the hall, Sam hot on her heels.
Dean chuckles at Sam’s unabashed excitement, then gives Castiel another peck on the cheek before moving away from him. “Can you put everything out on the table? I’ll go check out the bathroom sitch real quick.”
Cas catches his hand as he starts to leave, softly saying his name. When Dean looks back at him, Cas smiles and says, “I love you.”
Dean wonders if maybe three time’s the charm and he should just give in to what his body wants him to do. If a man has a right to stand around and cry messily anywhere in his own home, surely the kitchen would be the place to do it. The kitchen, after all, is the heart of any house.
But Dean doesn’t. He indulges in a little sniffle, Cas’ eyes glimmering with knowing in the soft light. Dean brings Cas’ hand to his mouth and kisses the neat gold band around his finger, and he kisses each peaked knuckle, and he turns Cas’ hand over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Then he lets go and puts his own hand against Cas’ cheek, and says his recklessly sappy thing: “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
And the glowing feeling inside him doesn’t settle, only grows brighter.
Whatever’s wrong with the sink will be just one more thing to a long list of shit to deal with. Their house needs work, no denying. But Dean knows they’ve got plenty of time.
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yandere-society · 4 years
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Day 11 | Santa Tell Me
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Synopsis: You’ve always been strangely scared of Santa as a child. The thought of a stranger in heavy boots breaking into your home and rummaging through your stuff has always terrified you. And you felt that terror right now, in this instant, as you laid there with two men in bright green suits hovering over your pretend-sleeping form.
The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist
Pairing: Vmin x Female Reader
Admin: @roses-ruby​​
Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, bad crack, attempted kidnapping, stalking, stupid jokes, joke about religion, swearing, bad mouthing Santa 
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
You really hated Christmas.
You hated everything that had to do with Christmas. All the sugary deserts, the unhealthy binging, the fake family bonding and seasonal depression longing. The freezing weather that froze your toes and pipes, the blinding red and greens, otherwise known as holiday delights. The overzealous consumerism around every corner, the empty materialism that gave everyone boners. The deforestation and self-righteousness, the ugly sweaters and proud religious mess. You hated Christmas and its warping spider’s net and all the very, merry, happy, holy, holly, jolly shit that went along with it.  
It wasn’t like you ever had a good Christmas to change your mind. When you were six, every girl at school had the brand-new light up Princess Dolly sneakers for Christmas but thanks to your skinflint of a dad, you got the direct knock off; Princess Polly sneakers. Polly with a PUH. They didn’t even fucking light up. To this day you get nightmares from the bullying. At 15, you got typhoid fever before the big ski vacation and while everyone else got to go have the time of their life, you were stuck rotting at home with your weird cousin Sigil who collected the dead skins from snake sheds. And just last year, at an unbearably boring office party, your ex best friend and crush made out under the mistletoe for 15. Whole. Minutes. Last you heard of them, they were engaged.
Let’s not even start about your irrational fear of Santa Claus. Every bad Christmas could be traced back to him. You cried the first time you heard your dad describe the bearded old man. Your reaction confused the hell out of him but to you, he was the strange one. What kind of parent allows an overgrown, capitalist bear man who dresses in red and brainwashes elf and reindeer to come into their home using the chimney and spy on their kids throughout the whole year? Was he a sadist? When you were younger, you would wet the bed just thinking of him stomping around your house in the dark. Safe to say, you never left him any cookies. Now, you’re just glad you grew out of the phase of believing in such a horrid creature like Santa Claus. Finally, you could sleep happy knowing that no one would sneak into your house in the middle of the night.
So, while we’re on that topic…who exactly were the two men whispering in the dark inside your room if it’s definitely not Santa?
“We have to quickly get back before he notices we’re missing. QUICKLY, Taehyung.”
“I know, I know. Let me just untangle this rope, Jimin.”
Who the fuck were Taeyoong and Jimmy and what the fuck were they doing in your house? That’s what you were thinking as you laid on your bed pretending to be asleep, absolutely still in the complete dark. Of course, you had a break in on the night of Christmas because why the fuck not. What made you think this one year, your Christmas day would turn out okay?
You were stuck even further because you lost the window of opportunity to wake up and startle the intruders and perhaps scream for help because since the moment they snuck in (3 minutes ago) you did nothing but lay there listening to their banter like the idiot you are. Maybe you could pretend all their ‘noise’ woke you up, but then again you weren’t too fond of your acting skills.
But honestly, who were they? What did they want? Why did they keep mentioning returning before this ‘he’ found out they were gone?
As you were pondering your crisis, someone blew straight into your ear. You shot up from the bed with a scream and immediately turned on the lamp beside you. Two men in strange green tunics and stockings, pointy ears, and tall hats with a bell stare back at you with an equally horrified expression.
They were dressed up as…elves?
“See, I told you she was awake.” The one on your right, resembling a small animal, possibly the bastard who blew in your ear, chirps.
“Wow, you really do have night vision, Jiminie.” The taller one behind the edge of your bed, the one holding a rope says, while staring at you in a daze.
“Who the fuck are you both? How did you get in? What do you want?” You shout, bringing your comforter to your chest.
All they do is stare at you with lovesick eyes to which you scowl. Hold on, why were your potential murderers so hot?
“_-___,” The one on the right calls you carefully. He had round and soft features with a sharp jaw. Slender eyes and bright pink hair matching his rosy cheeks on his otherwise cute pale face. “It’s an honor to finally meet you…my name is J-Jimin.”
“I’m Taehyung.” You turn to the man with the rope. His features were extremely well proportioned and downright lethal. A devilishly handsome face, beautiful golden skin and dark brown mopy hair. He appeared and sounded like a mature sugar daddy but stared at you like a 12-year-old pervert.
You sat silent after the two men’s greetings. What were you supposed to say after intruders introduced themselves? Nice to meet you? And how did they know your name?
“…O-Okay…Jimin, Taehyung…why are you in my house.”
“We’re here to kidnap you.” Jimin smiles, his eyes turning into crescents.
“E…Excuse me?”
“Yeah! We’re here because we love you and we want you for ourselves, so we have to take you from your home.” Taehyung says, stretching the rope in his hands.
“WHAT?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Did you perhaps start hallucinating after your edible once again? Because that would explain this crazy ass dream you were having right now. Since when did you have an elf kink though?
“So you see,” Jimin begins walking to stand beside Taehyung so now they were both in front of you, “We’re Santa’s elves. We were the ones assigned to watch over you, see if you were naughty or nice.”
“Pfft, you’re very naughty~” Taehyung giggles, blushing like crazy. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“And over the years,” Jimin continues, “We came to fall in love with you to the point of obsession. So now we want to kidnap you and take you to the north pole where we three will live in a polyamorous relationship and only me and Taehyung will get to be with you.”
“We’ll fuck every day.” Taehyung chimes in proudly, earning a smack to the back of his head from Jimin who mutters ‘not yet.’
“Ahahaha, what Taehyung meant was…of course any sexual relationship would be consensual. No means no, after all.” Jimin winks awkwardly
You just sat there, mouth wide open as your brain refused to process all the information that was just presented to you. So not only were your intruders dressed up as elves, but they were also clinically insane.
“I’m calling the cops.”
“W-wait! We can prove it to you!” Jimin jumps, rushing back to your side. “When you were 10, you really wanted a MayaMaya doll collection set didn’t you? You didn’t tell your dad about it because you thought he would get you the knock off; the Papaya doll collection. It was the first and only time you were okay with Santa coming into your house, so you didn’t even set the bear trap in the fireplace like you did every year.”
He was right. What the fuck.
“W…how did you know that?”
“We saw you.” Jimin says, eyes soft and smile tender, “You were wishing so earnestly that Christmas Eve, it almost made me cry.”
“W…wait so…Santa is real?”
“Of course.” They sang in unison
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, time out.” You huff, “He’s been real this whole time, yet he’s never gotten me what I wanted for Christmas?”
“Oh, my love.” Taehyung strides up and sits on your side of the bed, taking your hand in his. “It was out of our hands…we tried to get you on the nice list, but he could sense your bad vibes…also I’m pretty sure he was salty you never left him cookies. He is sort of petty.”
“So you’re telling me that hippy bitch Claire really did deserved that large purple dollhouse more than me?”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, she hasn’t been on the nice list for a long time now…all she asks for are sex toys.” Taehyung stares off into the distance.
“How long have ya’ll been watching me?”
“We are supposed to stop once a kid doesn’t believe in Santa anymore...but we were just always rooting for you. Before we knew it, we were watching you way into adulthood...and then slowly we started falling in love with you.” Jimin blushes
“...Have ya’ll seen me-”
“Naked? No...but we really want to.” Taehyung bites his bottom lip.
“I can’t believe this…” You groan, placing a palm over your forehead.
“Hey now, Jesus didn’t die today for you to be full of despair.” The taller elf rubs your hand with his thumb
“No, you idiot. He was born today…I think.” Jimin tsks
“Oh…well the point still stands. Don’t be sad my love. We never want you to have a bad Christmas again.”
“Anyway, we should hurry before Santa notices we abandoned him. That ass-kisser Jin also tagged along so we don’t have to worry too much about our portion of the presents since he would love to show off how competent he is to Santa all by himself. We can just say we ran a bit late because some kid almost woke up.” Jimin tells Taehyung to which he nods, getting his rope ready.
Oh right, this was a kidnapping. You forgot.
“___, just stay perfectly still and we’ll easily load you into the bottom of Santa’s gift sack. That thing is huge, no one will notice but us.”
“Guys, wait.” You say to which they freeze. “Let me think about this.”
They look at you with pleading puppy dog eyes and you start to contemplate it. Should you go with the two elves that barged into your house and tried to kidnap you and possibly turn you into a sex slave?
What were the pros and cons?
If you go to the North Pole, you’d basically be stuck with everything you hate about Christmas all year round. But could it be that bad seeing how smoking these two elves were? They could easily keep you warm. Were all elves this hot? Wait…could Santa possibly be hot? Your mouth watered thinking about it. Is this an enemies to lovers AU after all?
Whatever it was, it was interesting and more importantly you had a lot of unfinished business with the man in red. You could see it now, forming a mutiny with all the elves. Killing Claus and taking over his empire. Then it would be you who rules Christmas and boy, do you have a few changes you wanted to make like the beginning of this story states. Finally, all your wishes will come true. This time you WILL get the light up Princess Dolly sneakers and MayaMaya doll collection set.
And so, with a sinister plot forming in your head, you smile at the two eager elves in front of you.
“Alright boys, let’s go.”
Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad after all.
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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years
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December Contest Submission #17: Karen's yard
words: ca. 2100 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: alcohol use, buzzed driving, Karen
Anna was staring at her reflection in the round, ball-like sphere ornament colored in Halloween orange. She looked like a fish, she thought. Like one of those orange fish with creepy eyes and their brains sticking out. She was wondering when Elsa was going to come out of the damn room. She was growing impatient, and she was not the impatient kind. Not at all. 
The sound of a rubber chicken caught her attention. She turned around, found Elsa standing there, cringing at said chicken that lay under her foot like a limpy, screaming creature. And what the hell was Elsa wearing? 
“You look like a fucking Christmas present.” The chicken protested.
“That’s the point,” she said. 
“But a cringy one. Like the one your distant aunt gives you and you hate it but have to smile anyway and say thank you and then leave it in your closet for the rest of eternity.” She scanned her again. “Your face looks very cute, though.”
“You just insulted my entire outfit, am I supposed to thank you for calling my face cute?” 
“Yes.” 
She stepped closer. “You look like an oompa loompa.” 
“I was aiming for citizen of Whoville.” 
“No. Oompa loompa. The original version.” 
“I don’t even know the original version so your insult falls flat.” 
Elsa shrugged. 
There was a party they were supposed to attend. Elsa knew somebody who knew somebody else, and their cousin, and whatever. It spread like gossip. Or was it wildfire? No. The gossip did the spreading and the wildfire was the analogy. Anyway, Anna was very excited to go to this Christmas thing because it’s been a while since she’s attempted to get drunk off eggnog. And so what if she looked like Willy Wonka’s fucking spawn?
It was cold outside. Hella. My-ass-is-frozen-and-my-teeth-will-fall-off-from-so-much-chattering cold. Anna could not think. She could not even respond when Elsa asked her if she wanted to stop by Starbucks and get a hot chocolate. But she shook her head. I don’t want hot chocolate I want alcohol your honor. So the party it was. Elsa drove like a grandma. Ice was her excuse but Anna was not having it. She drove like a grandma on summer too. And on spring. And on the fall when you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to cozy it up in your bed or dig yourself a nice dead-leaf grave. 
“We’ll get there tomorrow and nobody will get to appreciate my oompa loompa costume.” 
“You’ve disgraced enough eyes as it is.” 
“Only yours.” 
“Mine are the only ones that matter.” 
“Who taught you to be so vain?” 
“You.” 
Anna nodded. The wig nodded with her. Both were proud nods. “I’ve taught you well.” 
They almost veered off the road at some point; almost drove into a snowman, Santa and the horse-looking reindeer that were set up on the obnoxiously decorated yard of some Karen’s house. It’s the ice, Elsa said again. But nah. She was a slow driver and a shitty driver too. Anna would have offered to get behind the wheel but she was even shittier. So she prayed instead, and played Mariah Carey’s Christmas album until she was sure she hated it with her whole being. 
The house was warm at least. Its smell, however, was a concoction of spilt American beer—the cheap kind that tasted like piss when lukewarm—and the cinnamon scent of those generic candles everyone hated but went on buying anyway because they were so cheap.
Anna made a beeline for the kitchen. She forgot who it was they were here for. The cousin of the friend of the coworker or something. Anyway, bless them for keeping the place stocked up with alcohol for those souls who come to this abode feeling thirsty as shit. Elsa trailed after her, and bless her too, just because. 
“What are you getting?” Anna asked her. 
“Whatever you’re getting.” 
“That’s insanely unoriginal.” 
“I’m not the alcoholic one here.” 
 Anna laughed. She placed her hands on her warm, lovely, rosy, pinchable cheeks and said, “Elsa. Do you think the people who came here tonight did it because they like to sit on a stranger’s couch? No. They came here because they like the taste of free alcohol.” 
“I’ll take a cranberry vodka.” 
“That’s my baby.” She made two cranberry vodkas because Elsa wasn’t the unoriginal one here. It was Anna. Plot twist. 
The cranberry vodka tasted hideous though, but free plus alcohol equals you drink it anyway. Then Anna remembered the eggnog. But there was no eggnog. And what Christmas party didn’t have at least some crappy eggnog? So she stuck to cranberry vodka and to Elsa’s side for good measure. They spent a good amount of time looking for the friend of the cousin, etc. so that Anna could meet them and they found him in the most obvious of places: the couch. He was bulky, had a goofy grin and whatnot. His name was Kristoff. Another plot twist.
Anna could have sworn he’d seen him before, and when Elsa told her it was from that one time they ran into him at a gay bar everything made sense. Then she smiled to herself because that had been a hell of a good time. Elsa elbowed her in the ribs, gently, with love. ‘Not here,’ her eyes said. Well, you can’t blame her for fantasizing. Or you can. But also blame it on the alcohol. And on Elsa’s stamina.  
“So, Anna.” Who’s talking? “Elsa’s told me a lot about you.” It’s Kristoff. 
“All good things, yeah?” 
“All great things.” 
Anna nodded proudly and so did her wig. 
“What’s your costume?” he asked. 
“I’m an oompa loompa.”  
“I didn’t know that movie was Christmas-themed.” 
“Everything with snow in it is Christmas-themed, Kristoff.” 
“Oh.” 
So she’s enlightened Kristoff with her knowledge and now it was time to move on. What a himbo. She wondered if it was him who kept playing Mariah Carey. That would make sense. 
They stopped by the kitchen for a refill and eventually moved to the side, right by the corner where you stand if you kinda know the host but not really but you don’t wanna seem awkward and look like you’re not having a good time. Anna kept looking at the green bow that Elsa had glued to her sweater. It was distracting. But Elsa kept thinking she was staring at her breasts and she wasn’t. Well, she was. But that wasn’t the point of this paragraph. 
Mariah Carey gave way to Michael Bublé and then Anna was 110% sure it was gay himbo Kristoff who was controlling the music. But she couldn’t be mad. This was his house and if he wanted to blast overplayed Christmas music until everyone’s ears—even the neighbors'—bled, then that was entirely up to him. It’ll stay in his conscience. Or maybe not. He was a white boy. Nothing ever stuck. Anna was still having fun, however, and so was Elsa. She kept giving her the look. The one that said, ‘Let’s get out of here or else I’ll find us a place in this house where I can get my hands on you without having to keep it PG13.’ But they’d just gotten here, Anna thought. So she wasn’t having it just yet. She liked to tease. 
But not too much, because by the third cranberry vodka she was all up and ready to go. Or maybe it was the fourth. Who cared? Anna didn’t. Willy Wonka sure didn’t. Elsa was already grabbing her coat, so she didn’t care either. The perks of dating an introvert.
It was shit cold outside, but that wasn’t news. 
“I’ll drive,” Anna joked and giggled. She was so funny. 
“Are you drunk?” Elsa threw the keys at her anyway. Anna caught them, so she was probs just tipsy. “Why are you entrusting me with the car?” 
“It’s the suburbs. We can go at fifteen and be fine.”
PREPARE TO DIE!!!! Anna calmly thought. They went inside the car. What’s that oompa loompa doing in a car? she thought as well, and laughed again.
“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” Elsa asked. Her cheeks were rosy pink and her eyes were kinda glassy. And why was she so goddamn pretty? 
“I’m more sober than you are.” 
“That’s a first.” 
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Aren’t you glad I keep being your first in everything?” 
Elsa pulled at her wig. She took that as a yes. 
Anna took the fifteen to heart even though it felt so. damn. slow. She felt worse than somebody’s grandma. Hell, she felt worse than Elsa. 
“I’m getting dizzy.” 
“But I’m only going at fifteen. I’m practically crawling.”  
“Can you stop the car?” 
Oompa loompa stopped the car and ugly Christmas gift exited. Anna didn’t realize they had stopped outside of the same house that Elsa almost drove into hours earlier until they were standing in front of it, Elsa taking big gulps of cold air and Anna just standing there, being her Anna self. The wig kept itching so she took it off. 
“Are you okay, babe?” 
Elsa nodded slowly. “I think you put too much vodka in that last drink.” 
“You made that one.” 
“Oh.” 
 Anna reached for her hand and walked her into the white suburban mom’s front yard. The deer really did look like horses and Santa Claus looked like the creepy uncle you try to stay away from. The snowman looked like everybody else’s nightmares. They stood in the yard, both of them staring at the fireplace that burned in the living room—with everything hella open, by the way. Who kept the curtains drawn during these hard times? And where was the All-American family? Was this meant to be a horror story? 
“We look like total creeps right now,” Anna muttered. 
 She saw Elsa nod from her peripheral vision. Then she felt a hand wrap around her arm. “Sit with me for a while.” 
“Uh, here? I’m not sure we’re allow—okay, yes. Okay.” She sat down with Elsa on the snow knowing she’d regret it soon. Like, a moment long. However long that was. 
Elsa hugged her, nuzzling her neck. It tickled, but in a nice way. “I’ll keep you warm,” she mumbled. 
“I doubt that.” 
“I can try.” 
“You really are drunk,” Anna laughed. 
“And you smell like feet.” 
“Okay. Ew. That was the wig.” 
“Sure, Jan.” 
“Who’s Jan.” 
“My lover.” 
“Ah.” Her ass was beginning to go numb. “Do I really smell like feet?” 
“No, you smell like Anna.” 
She smiled like an idiot. “I bet your lover could never,” she said. 
“No,” Elsa mumbled, still close to her neck. “That’s why I love you the most.”
Anna decided it was enough sitting so she kinda just flipped over and pushed Elsa to the ground—cause she didn’t mind the snow and the cold and whatnot—so that she could place herself on top of her. Elsa was laughing but that was probably because she was drunk. Under different circumstances she’d be the one questioning whether it was a good idea to make out on some stranger’s yard. 
But they didn’t make out then—PLOT TWIST NUMERO TREE! 
Anna got too distracted watching Elsa laugh, in a non-creepy way. Because real talk: Anna was stupidly in love. She was in love in the cheesiest of ways. In an ‘I want to spend the rest of my chaotic life with you’ kinda way. She was in love with Elsa in a way that made her know she looked like an idiot when she stared at her but didn’t care anyway. She was in love with Elsa in a way Jan could never. And she knew Elsa was in love with her, too. Because honestly, who looks at you as though you’re the most precious thing in the world even though you look like one of Willy Wonka’s factory workers on a bad day? No one, your honor, that’s who. So somewhere deep down she knew what was coming before she even got the chance to register her own words. 
“Marry me.” 
Elsa fixed her eyes on her. The laugh became a giggle. “What?” 
“Marry me, Elsa.” 
All the metaphors in the fanfic world about Elsa’s blue eyes go here. It’s as though they lit up at those words, or maybe it was the yard’s obnoxious, bright lights. They will never know. The only thing Anna will remember with perfect clarity about that night will be Elsa’s response. 
“Yes.”
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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years
Text
Pure Blood 20 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)
A/N: Omg,I can't believe we're already in chapter 20, the good is coming
Words: 1,760
Masterlist
Chapter 19 / Chapter 21
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Sirius
Yesterday
"You owe me some chocolate frogs, Padfoot," says James, lying down on his bed.
"I don't think so, Prongs. That bet wasn't fair, how could I know that bird was going to attack me?”
"Maybe because you threw rocks at him," adds Peter, and I wince.
Remus enters the room then, the boy walks in with a huge smile all the way to his bed, takes off his sweater and sits on the mattress in front of mine. The three of us are silent as we watch him, waiting for some other reaction. I told them what had happened with Persephone, omitting the fact that he was crying and… the hug.
James sits on the edge of his bed and looks at Remus.
"And well?” That makes him react, but his smile doesn't fade.
"Hello guys. How’d it go? ” I frown.
"Good," says Peter. "But I think it was better for you," he says, trying to joke, but James throws him a shirt to quiet him down.
“Yes, you're right, Pete. It was better than I thought,” Remus replies, slightly red.
"How was your date with... Trixie?" I say, trying to control myself. His face flushes even more.
“I know you don't like her, Padfoot, but I did well, she's a very- wait, how did you know that?” The spell seems to have broken.
"Someone told me,” I lean against the wooden pillar of his bed and cross my arms.
“Oh. Well… yes, it was great, we have many things in common and–”
"Remus, I love you and you know it,” James interrupts him before he gives the details. "I think you're the smartest of the four, but right now you're being an idiot." Remus looks at him confused.
“Are you on his side too? C’mon James, they don't even know her…”
“Listen," I reply. “I may not be the best person to say this, because of my stupid decisions, but…” I approach him. “Why did you leave Persephone?”
"What are you talking ab-" His eyes widen "Holy shit!” He hits his forehead.
"There it is, he finally realized," applauds James.
“Shit, I was supposed to go with her.”
"Didn't you really remember?" I ask.
"No shit, I'm the worst person in the world," He says as he gets up. "I have to talk to her…” He opens the door, but before he could get out, I grab his shirt and he turns.
"It's late, Moony, talk to her tomorrow.”
He sighs and nods, before closing the door a meow stops me. A small cat’s sitting in front of our room.
"How strange…” I don't pay attention and close the door.
"Surely she hates me," he complains.
"No, she's just upset," I say without thinking and he watches me.
"You talked to her?" He asks surprised and I feel shivers run through my body.
"Eh, yes, something like that, she seemed annoyed.”
"I'm an idiot.”
"We agree on that," adds James.
"Okay, now tell us, how did it go with Trixie?" Peter asks and I complain covering my ears.
"I don't want to know what you do with the devil!”
Night came as we argued and joked.
———————————————————————————
Today.
"Does that mean I now have an excuse to hit Snivellus?" I ask, patting her red hair.
"I thought you didn't need one to do it," Lily replies, blowing her nose.
"I need it, now I can say that it was for your honor.” My words make her laugh.
"I still can't believe our friendship is over," she says as she sits down on the floor resting her head on my shoulder.
"Welcome to the Club,” I say sighing.
"I don't think we're in the same club, Persephone," I frown.
"What are you talking about?”
"I know you’ll deny everything, but your relationship with Sirius has changed, you don’t argue like before.”
"That's because of the truce, you know about the plan–“
"If you say so…”
"Anyway, do you want to go to the lake to eat? I'm hungry,” We get up at the same time.
"Surely everyone knows now what happened," she says, wiping her tears away.
“Let them think what they want, Lily. You can't force them to never talk about you, the only thing we can do is ignore them, but if someone dares to hurt you, rest assured that you have a whole group of bodyguards-”
She laughs. "Who would say that after so many fights, we would become friends?"
I Sigh. "Yes, everything is out of balance…”
I feel a chill when I remember the hug with Sirius, but I don't say anything.
We both walk to the large dining room and just as I head over to the Slytherin table, she stops me and offers me a place at her table.
"You want the balance to fall apart, right?" Lily rolls her eyes.
"Don't exaggerate, come on," she says. We sit down with her friends, they all ask if she’s okay and Lily only answers that they will talk later, I’d also be uncomfortable with something like that.
We ate and talked about everything, the relationship with them was friendly, we are not best friends, but I’m comfortable, everything’s better when Jenna joins. After a few minutes, I was already preparing to leave, but a new person stopped me. Trixie sits across from me with a huge smile.
"May I speak to you, Persephone?" I clench my teeth.
"No thanks, I want to live," she giggles, causing a chill.
"Always so funny! But I think it's important that we talk, it's about Remus.”
I raise an eyebrow.
"Did you kill him already or what?" I feel a pinch on my left arm and I complain looking at Lily. Then I sigh. "What do you want?"
"Oh no, I meant talking in a more private place,” She looks at the girls. "I don't want to offend them, it's just that this is a bit embarrassing topic…”
"Don't worry, Persephone will go with you" Jenna says giving me orders. I grimace and get up.
We both leave the large dining room and walk a few hallways.
“Here. I don't intend to be in a secret place where you can hide my body without witnesses.”
She sighs but keeps smiling.
“Listen, I'm not stupid, I know that since the last time we saw each other many years ago, things were not right. But you have to understand that we are no longer girls and I don't think I deserve your bad attitude.”
Well shit. I was not expecting this.
"Still, I don't expect us to be as close friends as before, I know you have your group and I have mine, but our paths are perhaps coming together again," She adds, blushing a little. "Remus is a very cute boy and I don't think I've ever had such a strong connection with anyone, he listens to me and-"
"Stop there I- I don't want to know,” I stir uneasily. "I was supposed to go with him to Hogsmeade yesterday, but he left me standing because of you.”
"I know.”
"And it's not fair- wait- you knew?"
"Yes. He’s quite sorry. When I saw him at the entrance of the school, he was very happy and we started talking, he never mentioned that he was waiting for you, I found out later I- I'm sorry.”
"What?" This I was really not expecting it.
“I’m very sorry for what happened, if I had known… sorry, Persephone. What I least want is to give you reasons to hate me.”
On the one hand, I am very surprised, and on the other I don’t know whether to believe her. Before I could reply, Remus reaches our side.
"Percy, can we talk?"
They both look at each other and smile for a few seconds, but then they came back to me.
"What you did to me, Lupin, you’ll have to compensate. Trixie,” She waits anxiously. “May it never happen again.”
"I promise," She says, smiling, "I'll leave you alone, see you, Remi." She kisses his cheek and leaves.
"I'm really sorry. I completely forgot- it wasn't on purpose- I know what you think, but I'm not like Sirius,” He speaks so fast that I barely understand, so I cover his mouth with my hand.
"Okay, I accept your apology, but I warn you that if it happens again, I will not hesitate to turn you into a worm, understand?" He nods and pulls my hand away.
"So you're not upset anymore?" I shake my head.
“Remus," I say nervously "Do you really like Trixie?"
The boy blushes and runs a hand over his hair.
“Yes, I think so…”
I sigh.
“Just… be careful.”
—————————————————————
"What will you wear for the big party of important people?" Jenna asks surprising me.
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," I shrug. "My mother will surely send me something. She wants to control everything.”
"At least she has good taste," I nod. "I understand why you like going out to the gardens so much, it's relaxing," She says, lying down on the grass.
Suddenly a small orange bird perches on the book that I put aside. I laugh and look at the animal. Its colors are very bright, I have never seen a bird like that.
"Hey, how do you feel about the whole Trix and Lupin thing?" Adds my friend.
"I don't know, it's weird.”
"Wait, odd that it's with Trix, or that Remus has a girlfriend?"
“Girlfriend? No. Ha! No.”
Jenna laughs out loud.
"What is so funny?"
“You're jealous!”
"What!? Of course not!”
“Yes you are!”
"No, don't say stupid things. I'm only worried about him, Trixie is a bad person -or at least she was- agh! I don't know, but I'm not jealous, I don't see Remus as more than a friend.”
"Hey, it's not bad that you like Lupin, actually, of the four I like him the most.”
“Stop."
"I'm just saying, don't be mad," She says defending herself.
"I can't see Remus that way,” I bend my legs and rest my chin on my knees.
"You would make a nice couple," She adds, making me growl. “Although, I've seen progress with Black…”
"Do you want to stop pairing me with all of them?"
"Hey, it's not my fault! You have a history and somehow, we always end up talking about one of them.”
"I wish I could meet someone else…”
"That would break Lupin and Black's hearts."
"Jenna!"
My scream causes the bird to fly away.
Taglist:
@treestarrrrrrrr  @siriuslysirius1107      @thagreenmoon @madmaiden2890    @ren-ela  @avipshamitra   @auroraawrites @findzelda  @lizlil @siriusmuch   @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland  @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans​
@bloodorangemoonlight
@littledeadgirlwalking​
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jadekitty777 · 4 years
Text
Baker’s Dozen, Part 1
Oh my god we are at the home stretch and I am still amazed I managed to do all eight days. This is a two-parter, so the second chapter will be up tomorrow.
Day 7: First Morning @taiqrowweek
Rating: K
Words: 6,000
Summary: When a desperate escape from fans leaves Qrow seeking shelter in a nearby restaurant, he expects little of the rundown, failing business that offers him a table. One bite is all it takes to change his mind. [Actor and Chef AU]
Ao3 Link: Baker’s Dozen
~
Early Saturday afternoon found downtown L.A. bustling with traffic on the sidewalks and the road. Qrow found himself in the heart of Pershing Square, lying on the grass and enjoying the midday sun beaming down on him, wondering why he didn’t do this more often.
“Oh my god! Qrow Branwen?!”
His eyes shot open, seeing a small gaggle of women hurrying his way as every head within earshot turned to look right at him.
Oh right.
That was why.
He shot to his feet, yelling over his shoulder as he sprinted away, “Sorry! No autographs today!”
He thanked whatever gods might be out there that his last role forced him to stay in excellent shape, because he was easily able to outdistance his pursuers. Unfortunately, as he skirted around the foot traffic, their yells only seemed to be attracting more attention his way. He ever spotted one desperate teenager pulling a phone from her purse.
He was about to be all over Instagram, wasn’t he?
Knowing this called for every actor’s Superman disguise, Qrow pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, shoving them onto his face as he took the first alleyway he could find. Coming out on the other side, he slowed his pace to a fast walk, lowering his head to avoid further detection and slipped into the doorway of one of the businesses a few doors down before the other crowd could catch up.
He sighed, grateful for the dark atmosphere inside the building as he pulled out his phone. Alright, time to call his driver and get out of dodge.
“Table for one?” The question had him jerking around, seeing a young woman in a cowboy getup smiling his way from a little podium. Her golden hair was particularly eye catching, long and untamed in a way that reminded him of his twin sister’s. Her name tag, which was in the shape of a star, read ‘Yang’.
He took in the environment around her, noticing the array of booths and tables that made up the majority of the room, and realized he’d ducked right into a restaurant. “Uh, no sorry I uh-” He started to say, only to trail off as he actually considered it. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like he’d eaten, and it would take his driver about the same time to get there when having to slog through the weekend traffic. “I mean, yeah, just me. Can I get a booth as isolated as possible?”
“You got it!” Yang agreed, picking up one of the menus and leading him to a booth in the back. He couldn’t help but notice she even had spurs on her boots that clanked when she walked. The walls were decorated with a similar Texan flair, bull horns and deer antlers interspaced with paintings of farm homes and woodland creatures and metal lone stars. How quaint.
Despite the aesthetics though, it was obvious from the minute he sat down and the bench creaked loudly, that upkeep wasn’t a priority. Or, he reassessed as he took note of the lack of patrons despite it being the lunch hour, it probably just wasn’t in the budget. That probably wasn’t a promising sign on the quality for his upcoming meal.
“Ruby will be with you soon.” Yang said, setting the menu before him. The cover had the name ‘The Dragon’s Den’ proudly printed across it. Wait, that wasn’t southern. Did he somehow run all the way to Chinatown instead?
“Uh, thanks.” He flipped the menu, but with the lighting so low, he couldn’t read the finer script. He pulled off his sunglasses, setting them on the table before looking through his options. Despite the slightly confused name, everything within seemed pretty par for the course; roast beef, fried chicken, catfish, and a large array of barbequed meats that any Tramp off the street would gladly steal for his Lady.
“Howdy there, can I get you started w- Oh my god!”
Ah, shit.
He looked up, seeing yet another starstruck gaze aimed at him by a petite girl in a similar get up to the hostess but was a few years younger – was she even old enough to work here?
He held up his hand in a desperate attempt to ward off any screaming. “Kid, I swear to give you the best tip of your life if you keep quiet.”
His waitress pressed her notepad against her mouth, a muffled squeak escaping around it. After a moment, she took a breath, then lowered the notepad slightly to reveal a sly smile. “I’ll make sure Yang seats any customers far away from you if you promise me an autograph and a picture too.”
He snorted. What a devious little brat! He could appreciate that. “Deal.”
“Hehe, yes!” She gave a little hop before quickly composing herself, placing her pen to the page. “Alright stranger that I’ve never met and do not know the name of, what would you like to drink?”
“Don’t oversell it kid. And water’s fine.”
“Coming right up!” She scurried away. He watched her detour towards the front, dragging the blond woman to the back where they disappeared behind a set of swinging double doors.
He counted down from five in his head.
“EEEEEEEEEEEE!” Came two screams from the kitchen.
Right on cue.
“OUT! BOTH OF YOU, OUT!!” Was the next shout he heard, the tone definitely masculine.
Yang came back out first, her gaze lingering his way before she hurried away, giggling all the while. Ruby was next, setting a glass of water on his table along with a straw.
“Your drink, mon-sir.”
He laughed. “Did you mean monsieur?”
“Yeah, that one!” She giggled good-naturedly. Despite the fact she was an obvious fangirl, he found himself taking a liking to her.
“Heard a bit of yelling back there.” He gestured towards the doorway.
“Yeah, dad just thinks we’re being dumb. He doesn’t believe you’re out here.”
Dad? Well, that might explain why it seemed this rustic establishment was getting away with breaking child labor laws. “Eh, it’s probably better that way anyways.” Kids were cute; but adults fawning over him was always a little weird, especially if they were around his age.
“He wouldn’t know how to appreciate the moment anyways.”  Ruby clacked her heels together, spurs chiming when she did. “So were you ready to order or did you want a few minutes?”
He glanced down towards the menu. He wasn’t really used to food like this. Growing up, his dad would favor getting the rice cooker going rather than tend to the BBQ gathering dust outside. As for now, his career tended to call for strict dietery needs depending on what shape he needed to be in for each role – none of which ever called for anything steeped so heavily in grease and fat. “Any suggestions?”
“Ooo,” She tapped her chin with her pen thoughtfully. “Well dad just took out the kolaches a half hour ago, so those are extra good right now.”
The question was out of his mouth before he could think to fake it, “What’s a kolach?”
“Oh, it’s a Texas thing. Basically, it’s a pasty with filling. Today’s strawberry, which is my favorite.”
“Trying to sell me dessert before the main course?”
“Well yeah! That’s like the highlight of being an adult, right? When I move out, that’s how I’m gonna do it.” Ruby said proudly. “But if you want to be all traditional about it, then by far dad’s best dish is the country-fried steak.”
He knew what that dish was at least. Steak fried in batter and slathered in gravy. It sounded like a heart attack on a plate. He closed the menu decisively, handing it to her. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Great!” She quickly wrote it down.
As the girl hurried over to go place his order, Qrow took the opportunity to look up the address and text it to An. ‘Pick me up in forty-five?’
‘Certainly sir.’ She replied.
He had just switched back to his browser, when Ruby came back, setting a small plate in front of him. The Kolach was about the size of a cookie, with a breading cooked to a nice golden brown and the bright red strawberry filling dusted over with powdered sugar.
“Here you go! The best dessert you’ll ever have.” She proclaimed.
It certainly looked good, but it wouldn’t have anything on his mother’s Ichigo Daifuku. “Maybe second greatest kiddo.”
Ruby looked about ready to defend her dessert’s honor when a call of ‘waiter’ had her drawing back. “Um, gotta go. Enjoy!”
Picking up the pastry, Qrow turned his attention back to his phone. He eyed the 2.9 rating the restaurant had on Yelp, his stomach turning with trepidation as he took his first bite. The outer crust had a nice crunch but the inner dough was fluffy and light, with a hint of butter. The sweetness also hit with less punch than he was expecting, the strawberry standing mostly on its own with only the sugar on top adding to it. Just the way he liked it.
He was right, it didn’t out beat the Daifuku… but it was pretty close.
As he polished it off, he pulled up the reviews, scanning through them.
‘Great food but the decor is just awful. Pretty sure the place hasn’t had an upgrade since the 70s.’
‘Nice staff but everyone looks like they should be operating out of a western drama.’
‘Terrible! The kid waiting on me didn’t even look fifteen. She was super clumsy too. Dropped a whole cup of BBQ right on my sweater. When I demanded to speak to the owner about it, the hostess gave me attitude about how he was too busy and called ME a blowhard! What a circus show! Never coming back!’
‘The food’s amazing, but the wait times are ridiculous. Forty-five minutes for a rack of ribs? Is there only one cook back there?’
And on they went. Complaints about the location, the confusing name, more on wait time and the staff. But, beyond a few issues on the food arriving too cold, there was nothing but stellar compliments for the taste. He lent back in his seat, hearing it give another dying groan. He watched Yang sit another table of five while Ruby bustled about to get their drinks. Eyed his crumb-dusted plate, realizing the treat was probably offered to him because someone hungry was more likely to notice the wait for the main course. What a sad state. Apparently great food but poor management and lack of funds to fix anything. The place probably wasn’t going to last another year.
Ruby was all smiles when she came back to him, clearing his dish. “So, did you like it?”
“It was excellent, just like you promised.” Qrow told her honestly. For a split second, he almost let that be the end of it all. To just have his meal and leave, forgetting all about the reviews that foreshadowed the Dragon Den’s closure and the innocent kid whose family would be facing thousands of dollars in debt.
Instead he found himself strangely invested. Perhaps it was just human curiosity or pure boredom, but whatever it was, something made him lean forward, cross his arms over the table and ask, “So Ruby, you said your dad’s the one cooking, but who runs the place?”
“He does.”
He arched a brow. “He’s the owner and the chef? And he makes his kids work here?”
She shifted on her feet. “Uh well, I only help out on weekends and maybe a weekday here or there when dad really needs me. Yang’s got it real bad tho. She has to rush from her classes at Cal State to here five times a week.”
As the suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, he almost asked, but figured the deliberate omission about the whereabouts of their mother was all the answer he needed.
“There’s no other waiters?” He asked instead.
“No, we’ve got a few part timers, just not enough for a full day. Dad keeps saying when business picks back up he’ll hire a few more and a new chef too but,” Ruby averted her gaze. “That was a year ago.”
“What happened?” He pressed.
She shook her head. “We kept losing staff and now I just think he’s too busy. He sometimes doesn’t even come home. He’ll just sleep at one of the tables and then be up for the next day.”
“He’s here every day? From open to close?”
“Yeah.”
He whistled low between his teeth, placing his palm under his chin. He’d had some rough shoots over the years, but at least he had the solace of taking breaks. “Wow. That’s awful. And I bet a teenager like you hates having to work when you’d rather be at home playing video games.”
“Oh, no. I don’t mind.” Ruby refuted, before amending shortly after, “Uh well, most times, at least. Jerky customers kind of ruin my day. But otherwise, it’s okay.”
He had a feeling it was anything but. “You sure ‘bout that?”
“Yeah. I mean, when we first moved here, this place was dad’s dream.” She waved vaguely in the air as if to encompass the little establishment. “He always loved making people happy by cooking for them. Even when I was a kid he’d tell me that the gift of a good meal is the smile on someone’s face when they eat it.” She faced him, resolute and steady. “I know it’s important to him, so if I can help him keep this place by working here every now and again, then that’s just what I’ll do.”
He studied her carefully, but nothing he could see seemed imply she was lying in any way. It was a value he could certainly respect, as he and his sister had grown up being told the importance of caring for and respecting their elders. But living in America taught him that not all families operated this way. It was surprising, but uplifting, to see it here. “That’s rather admirable of you.”
Before they could say more, a hiss of ‘Ruby!’ drew her up short, and then Yang was sidling over, an impressive stack of plates balanced precariously along her left arm. “Table 3 needs their check before they bounce on us.”
“Oh right.” She paused, just long enough to place the pastry dish on top of her sister’s already full load with an overly sweet smile.
Once his waitress had left, Qrow said, “Guess I’m distracting her.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. You can distract half the nation.” Yang replied. “Must be awful, never having enough privacy.”
He shrugged it off, as if he hadn’t sprinted several blocks twenty minutes ago. “Comes with the business.”
“Well, I’d hate it. I get enough attention as it is.” She shifted some of the weight on her arm.
“Ah, what? You’re the total heartthrob in school or something?” He could see that. She had other assets that matched Raven’s – and he remembered how often that had the boys trailing after her like stray dogs desperate for affection.
“Or something.” She echoed vaguely. “I’m going to go check on your meal.”
It was only as she turned away, he noticed her right hand as it caught the faint light from above. The shine to the skin too bright to be natural and its immobility too revealing that the limb was anything but real.  
Or something indeed.
God, maybe he should pitch a show because this was starting to feel like a classic TV sitcom. A single dad, running a failing restaurant and just struggling to get by to provide for his two kids, one of whom was disabled and the other was sacrificing the last of her childhood. Ruby, with her boundless optimism, would be the star of course. Yang would be the sassy, fiery-tempered co-host. Their dad would be a bumbling fool with a heart of gold. It would either top the charts or fail after the first season.
Not having much else to do as he waited, he texted the inane thought off to his agent.
Your writing leaves a lot to be desired. Stick to acting Qrow. Willow ordered.
He chuckled silently, replying: Is this why you gave your daughters such icy names? Because they were born from someone so cold?
Watch your tongue Branwen or I’ll tell Tommy Wiseau you want to co-star with him.
Ouch, I’ve got freezerburn.
I’m again questioning why I work with you.
You love me. He sent an obnoxious amount of kiss emojis along with it just to really annoy her.
She sent back swords. Ah, she was the best.  
He decided to leave her alone, switching over to one of his racing game apps and immersing himself in the competition. Every now and again, he’d catch sight of the girls in the corner of his eye. Ruby taking orders and checking on customers. Yang fetching refills or cleaning up. His red Alpine racer was just passing the finish line of the second race when Ruby was coming back.
“Here you go, the best meal in the house.” She set down the dish before him. It was an excellent presentation, like it came right out of a cooking magazine. The fry-battered steak was a light, golden brown, slathered with a brownish-white, peppered gravy. A generous helping of fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and bright yellow corn, both flecked with more pepper, completed the meal. All of it was framed by the plate with its dark blue flower trim that made the colors pop and really sold the southern charm.
“Thanks kiddo.” He said, feeling his stomach grumble.
“Enjoy!” She hesitated, adding in a small rush, “Just um, call me if you need me!”
He unrolled his utensils as she hurried away, shaking his head. She was probably hoping he’d call her every five minutes, just so she’d have more of an excuse to talk to him. Poor kid probably thought she was missing the opportunity of a lifetime. He didn’t let it bother him. After all, everyone who’s ever sat down with an interview with him knew he was a terrible conversationalist.
He cut down into the steak, finding it came apart easily and was perfectly cooked through. He dripped the bottom in the gravy, twisted it around on his fork, said a silent prayer to his arteries, and took the first bite.
Oh.
Oh.
Holy Mother of Mary.
The fried breading crunched nicely but the steak practically melted into his mouth, combining with the gravy and a series of spices he couldn’t even begin to name but knew it was doing something wonderful to his taste buds.
He hummed happily. It was good. It was beyond good. As he cut another piece and took another bite, finding it as delectable as the last, he still couldn’t believe it. There was just no way anything could be this delicious.
He was over three-quarters of the way through the steak by the time Ruby came to check on him.
“Sooo,” She glanced at his plate then to him, smirking, “You like it, don’t you?”
“Don’t look so smug.” Qrow replied halfheartedly, stuffing another forkful in his mouth and hearing her fading giggle.
He didn’t get it though; with food like this, the place should be packed. If people could wait in line to get his autograph for six hours, then why couldn’t they wait a measly half hour for an incredible meal?
“Hey kid.” He said when Ruby came back around again, this time to collect his empty plate.
“Yeah?”
“We still got to take your picture. Any chance I can give my compliments to the chef while we’re at it?”
“If Yang can be in it too, you got yourself a deal.”
He chuckled. Should have expected that. “You got it.”
“Eeeee!” She squealed, hopping in excitement. “Okay, okay, let’s go now!”
He obliged, finding it hard to move at first. Wow, he was stuffed. He managed to follow Ruby to the back, seeing her wave her sister over before he was led through the double doors.
Walking into the kitchen was like walking backstage on a set – wherein the stage was just a collection of pieces meant to play their positions and what was behind the curtain was where the magic truly happened to bring it all together. But instead of sound design and lights, it was sizzling grills and knives chopping down. And instead of half a dozen people rushing about, there was only one. He was mincing up an onion with a swift finesse only the best of chefs had while singing along with a cassette player that was peddling out country tunes.
“It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you nooow.”
Singing badly, Qrow thought, cringing inwardly.
“Dad, no!” Ruby cried. Not even looking their way, the man just continued on, more loudly and off-key then before.
“Oh god, please smite me.” Yang groaned as she walked in, hiding her face in her hand.
Her sister raced across the room, pulling at his sleeve, hissing insistently. “Dad, we have company.”
“Meaning I have an audience that actually appreciates my performance?” His laughter was hearty as he peered over her head. The cutting stopped immediately. “U-Uhh…” Was all he managed to splutter before looking down at his daughter. “Uh?!”
“Told you he was here.” She said in a know-it-all sort of tone.
Used to this, Qrow just cleared his throat, introducing himself even if it felt a bit arbitrary. “Qrow Branwen. A pleasure to meet you.”
The man didn’t reply straight away, still taken aback by his very presence – or perhaps, from the faint lines of panic crinkling his brow, weighing over the fact he’d just served a celebrity without actually knowing it. Whatever it was, he seemed to catch his bearings, setting down his knife and crossing the kitchen. As he introduced himself in turn, he held out his hand, “Believe me, pleasure’s all mine. Name’s Taiyang Xiao Long.”
Xiao Long? Strange, he didn’t appear to have any Chinese in him, which likely meant he was married into the surname. At least now he really understood the restaurant’s title. Qrow shook his hand, surprised by the strong grip. He could feel the calluses built onto his hands from years of using cooking utensils.
“I apologize,” Taiyang said as he pulled back. “Had I taken my daughter’s word for it, I would have offered you a meal more extravagant. Or at the very least, some good wine.”
He had to keep himself from chuckling at the way Ruby stuck out her tongue at her dad’s back. “That’s alright. If I’m being honest, that was one of the finest meals I’ve had in quite some time.”
The chef’s cheeks turned a little rosy but his smile was just like his daughter’s, toothy and bright. “That’s mighty kind of you to say.” Heh, cute. He even talked like the aesthetic.
Before they could converse more, the ringing of a timer drew Taiyang’s attention. “Ah, pardon me.” He hurried to the stove, pausing only long enough to wash his hands.
“Sooooo,” Ruby stretched out the word as she slid back over, pulling out her phone. “Picture?”
“Wait, hold on!” Yang ripped off her hat, finger-combing through her golden locks. “Does my hair look okay?”
Her sister gave her a thumb’s up. “Like a rat’s nest. So yes- Ack!” She got smacked in the face with the hat.
“Girls, don’t be bothering him like that.” Their father chastised, stirring something in a large pot.
“We’re not!” Yang claimed.
He shook his head, but it was hard to tell if it was at her or at the soup he was tasting. “Really Mr. Branwen, you don’t have to.”
Ruby looked scandalized. “What?!”
“He owes us. I kept all the other customers away from him.” His eldest explained.
His head whipped around. “That’s worse! A man shouldn’t have to pay for his privacy!” As he pulled down some spices, he continued, “What you two ought to be doing is just appreciating the moment.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea dad. Now if only I had something to capture it with and keep it forever. Oh wait!” Ruby waved around her phone violently. “I DO!”
Unable to hold it in anymore, Qrow started to laugh. He was right; they would make a good sitcom. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met such interesting people.” He addressed the chef, “It’s alright, really. I did promise them.”
Taiyang opened his mouth to protest further, but another timer went off – how many did he have? – so he just said, “To each his own I suppose.” Before he turned to go check something in the oven.
Taking the opportunity for what it was, he held up his arms. “Alright, bring it in ladies.”
Ruby tossed her own hat next to Yang’s, giggling as his arm came around her shoulders. Yang was a little more uncomfortable, so he let his hand rest on her shoulder, above where he assumed her arm ended, and felt her relax almost instantly.
“Okay, 3, 2, 1!” They all smiled widely as the camera shutter clicked. They pulled away and Ruby looked it over to make sure it was good, before squealing happily. “Oh gosh it’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re – oof! – welcome.” He huffed out when she nearly tackled him with a hug. He pat her back. “Now, I believe I promised an autograph too?”
She grinned hugely. “Right, yes!” She grabbed Yang, “Come on we got to find something for him to sign!” The two hurried to a small office, and he caught Ruby saying, “He could even sign your arm!”
“You think?” Yang’s voice faded to the background, overtaken by a loud sizzling.
As Qrow came as close as he dared, Taiyang said, “Thank you for this. You really made their year.” He was stirring the onion he had minced earlier around a nice heap of melting butter in a hot pan.
“Like I said, it’s fine.” He echoed.
“Still, it’s appreciated.” The burner was flipped off and the pan taken from the heat, but the onions continued to sauté.  “‘Fraid I can’t offer you much in compensation though, beyond giving you your meal free.”
He tilted his head. “Can you afford that?”
“Really, I insist. As they say, happiness is priceless.” Was the curt reply.
Only the rich say that. He scoffed at the obvious farce – not that Taiyang noticed as he turned away to attend to something else. Subtlety by words had never been his strong suit, and it wouldn’t be in the next five minutes either. So, he cut to the chase, “Listen bud, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know everything, but it’s pretty obvious from the state of this place to the lack of non-relative employees, that you’re not exactly in good standing.”
“An astute observation, but I don’t believe you needed to bring up all that just to make a case to pay for your meal.” He was back to chopping – this time, potatoes. Stubborn as a mule was a term invented for this guy, wasn’t it?
“It wasn’t.” Qrow assured. “It was a case to buy your restaurant.”
The knife chopped down so hard, it went right into the wood. Taiyang turned around to stare at him. A clatter to their left caught Qrow’s attention. The girls were both standing just outside of the office, the things they’d brought for him to sign now strewn across the ground.
No one spoke.
A beeping filled the air, and still no one spoke.
“Uh. Timer?” He said, awkwardly.
Taiyang seemed to blink out of whatever daze he was in. He came forward, almost aggressively enough that Qrow tried not to shrink back, but the other man only reached over his shoulder to turn off the timer, side-eyeing him as he walked away.
“Really?” Ruby’s small but hopeful voice shook the tense air.
Yang’s was more suspicious. “You do know you’re buying a failing business, right?”
He offered the duo a smile. “Won’t be failing when I’m done with it. This place just needs a bit of sprucing up. More staff. Maybe a new location-”
Slam! Went a cooking sheet on the countertop.
“No.” Taiyang said rigidly.
Unperturbed, Qrow carried on. “Alright, no new location. Kind of a bad move but I can work with that. But the name has got to-”
“Stop.” He commanded. “Do not treat me like a fool. I may not have grown up here, but I learned rather quickly that folks around here will do a lot for 15 minutes of fame. I will not allow you to do the same to my family.”
“What, dad-!” Yang started
“Can’t you just-!” Ruby spoke over her.
“Quiet, both of you!” He bellowed, before turning his back to them, grabbing some tongs to turn the racks of ribs around a bit more aggressively then needed. “The answer is no, and that’s final. Now, I will thank you kindly to take your empty offer and walk it out the door.”
When the girls started to raise protest again, Qrow was the one to silence them this time, raising a finger to his lips, before he took a few steps closer to the chef. “Believe me when I say the offer is not empty. Your daughter over there tells me how much this place meant to you when you first got it, but now you’re letting it rot under your feet. Is that really how you want it to go out?” The other man’s jaw clenched and he refused to look at him. He took that as a good sign, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you and your family.”
For his efforts, a set of tongs were shoved so close to his face, they almost touched his nose.
Behind the makeshift weapon, Taiyang’s eyes bored into his own. He spoke steady and sharp, “Mr. Branwen, I will say this once and only once. I have put everything I got, my entire heart and soul, into this restaurant. It is the only thing I have for my girls and I am NOT about to gamble it away on some publicity stunt to stroke a rich man’s ego. So, you ask me to believe you? Then come back with a lawyer and a contract full of terms we both agree on, as I will settle for nothing less. Am I understood?”
The storm brewing in those blue eyes didn’t intimidate him, because this close, he could see the dark circles etching a deep exhaustion around them. The mark of a person desperate and at the end of their rope. Despite only knowing him for a few minutes, Qrow could tell that he was a good man, as well as aggravatingly hardheaded.
“Got it.” He told him, reaching into his pocket to fetch his shades. “I’ll see you in a few days then.”
As he pulled them on and turned away, he thought perhaps he heard Tai give some biting remark about how tomorrow, perhaps he’d be offered the moon. But he didn’t let it faze him. Instead, he crossed over to where the girls still stood, frozen – but unlike their father, they did nothing to hide the tentative hope on their faces.
Qrow lent down, fetching the sharpie and two sheets of paper, using a nearby counter to pen out the autographs. He even took the time to add his signature calligraphy, making the tail of the Q look like a feather. He offered each one in turn, “Ruby, Yang. Thank you for the pleasant experience.”
Yang was slow to take hers, as if she might say something. In the end she only thanked him.
Contrastingly, Ruby’s vibrancy was back, an almost nervous energy pitching her tone as she quickly offered to walk him to the door. It didn’t take him long to figure out why, as she hid her face in her treasured autograph and groaned. “I’m sorry about my dad. He’s just so, so, embarrassing!”
“He’s not so bad.” He refuted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Against his fingertips, he felt the buzz from his phone signaling an incoming message – no doubt An letting him know she’d arrived. “He’s playing it smart. Even I don’t do a job without a contract.”
“Still, he could have been more polite.”
Her tone allowed no argument, so he didn’t bother to tell her that for him, it was actually a refreshing change of pace. He had all sorts of people tripping over themselves to fawn at his feet and, while some celebrities ate up all that attention, Qrow had certainly never been one of them. It was nice being talked to like an equal – a privilege often reserved only to his closest coworkers and manager.
There was also just something so honestly genuine about Tai. Call it simple intuition, but he knew what it took to play all sorts of characters and he could say without a doubt that the blond wouldn’t be able to fool a preschooler if he tried. He was the kind of man who hid nothing and wore his emotions right on his sleeve.
Qrow, who shuttered his behind fake smiles and sunglasses all day, could really appreciate a quality like that.
“It was really amazing to meet you.” Ruby said as she pulled open the front door for him. “Like, as in the-best-thing-to-ever-happen-to-me amazing.”
“You’re setting the standard pretty high there, considering it won’t be the last time you see me.” Qrow said, stepping outside.
Her expression lifted, her youth seeing to shine through in her eyes. “You mean, you’re really coming back? Ever after dad was, well, a total jerkwad?”
“Well, you know what they say. You feed a crow once, and it’ll come back to roost.” He pulled down his sunglasses, enough to wink at her. “See you ‘round kiddo.”
“Y-Yeah! See you! Thank you so much, Mr. Branwen!”
He was pretty sure she waved after his car long after it left the street.
~
Three days would pass before Qrow would return to the Dragon’s Den. Like a knight readying for battle, he stood in front of the door over an hour before opening time.
When Tai finally arrived, he almost dropped his keys in the gutter at the mere sight of him.
“Why hello thar pardner.” Qrow drawled, tipping an imaginary hat. “Fancy meeting you here.”
For a moment, he just stared blankly. But finally, a snort escaped him. “You need to do more westerns if that’s the best you got, pardner.” He stepped forward, adding more softly, “You, came back.”
He nodded. “’Fraid I don’t have the moon to offer you, but I got the next best thing.”
Taking his cue, the gentlemen standing nearby fixed up his tie and strode forward. “Mr. Xiao Long? I’m Hei Xiong. I work in property management. It’s my understanding Mr. Branwen here would like to strike a deal with you.”
“Does he now?” That same bite Qrow’d heard in the kitchen was back, the blonde’s hackles already raised. Not missing a beat, Hei ruffled through a few papers in his folder, pulling out the top one to show him. Tai read it aloud. “Claim of co-ownership?”
“Yes. Mr. Branwen is interested in becoming your business partner.” The manager supplied.
“…Does he now?” He echoed as he looked towards Qrow, but the fiery attitude he’d expelled like a shield had doused some.
“We would be happy to discuss it in more detail this morning, if you’ve available?” Hei asked.
Anticipation held Qrow’s breath and anxiety jumped his heart as he waited for the other man’s response.
For the second time, he was rewarded with another of Tai’s bright and toothy grins. “I certainly am.” He stepped past them both and opened the door to the Den. “Please come in.”
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jenomark · 5 years
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I also have a another question (last one I promise 😬😂). I’m curious as to what’s your favorite variety show moment of each member (when I say variety it can be a tv show, a vlive, something from their YouTube channel, stuff like that)-🥰
Taeil: I have two for Taeil, and they’re both NCT Life related. The first is when Jaehyun was saying nice things about him, and he cried. Taeil is so loved by everyone, and it shows!!! The second is his Hey Mickey cheer leading dance.  He’s really cute, and honestly, he has the cutest little legs. 
Johnny: Him getting to be back home at his parents house will always be my favorite moment, because it’s the most sentimental. That JCC episode almost made me feel like I was coming back home. Like, the emotions I felt while watching it were very real. Also, it’s made me happy to see that Johnny’s friends are his home away from home.
Taeyong: NCT U: The Story of ‘YESTODAY’. It’s one of his favorite songs to have written for, and it’s a song that’s also really meaningful to me. As an animal lover, the part with him and the birds is my favorite. The fact that he also loves animals makes me feel so warm inside.
Yuta: Before I start, can I just say that his laugh is so sweet. I loved him in the Abnormal Summit program. I only linked a small part of the show, but if you can find the rest, it’s worth a watch just for him. I couldn’t stand the other people on the panel, but Yuta sticking up for people’s rights really tells me how good of a person he is.
Kun: It’s hard just choosing one for him. I love watching everything he’s in because the dynamic always changes. He adapts really well no matter who he’s with, which is the mark of a good leader. I would love just a VLIVE with him and Taeyong alone talking about being leaders, but until then, this is my favorite VLIVE with him in it.  Honorable mentions: Dream Plan, NCT LIFE Seoul Trip.
Doyoung: The VLIVE episode where Doyoung, Jungwoo and Mark are playing the balloon popping game. I’ve mentioned it before, but that sweater he’s wearing kills me. I really love the way Doyoung is around both Jungwoo and Mark, like, their chemistry is amazing. There are so many moments that I love regarding him, but this one stands out because I first saw it when I was falling for Doyoung.
Ten: Literally, every single dance video he has ever done. Watching Ten dance feels like a privilege. My favorite has got to be the ‘Devils’ dance practice. He’s so powerful with the way he moves. Like with the rest of WayV, I think Dream Plan is also worth a watch.
Jaehyun: There is this part in the K-pop Stars React To Try Not To Sing Along Challenge where he loses during a song. Everything about him dancing to that song is so adorable. When he stands up and moves his arms in front of Taeyong and Doyoung, who are trying not to cave, I just get heart eyes for him. 
WinWin: The one NCT Life episode where he’s cooking in the kitchen. He’s wearing a yellow shirt, Jaehyun is wearing an orange shirt, and WinWin tries to say ‘Lemon’ but he pronounces it as ‘Nimon’. It is, without a doubt, the cutest mispronunciation in the whole world. WinWin has come so far with his language skills, like, he tries so hard, and I’m just always so proud of him. 
Jungwoo: The Hit The States episode in Atlanta, with Doyoung at the Aquarium. I’ve watched that video an insane amount of times. At this point, it’s the thing that has given me the most comfort over the last few months. I love seeing them two together. Doyoung hitting his head on the glass, then Jungwoo doing the same a second later is peak comedy. DoWoo both interacting with random children, them singing on the ferris wheel (I had that Boat song stuck in my head for months before I realized what it was from), them revealing their personal bucket lists, all makes me very soft for the boy. Honorable mention: the video where Jungwoo, Taeyong, and Jaehyun went to the elementary school, and the Capilano Suspension bridge video.
Lucas: The yoga VLIVE with Lucas, Jungwoo, Yuta & Doyoung. Lucas is so damn funny in this. I’ve tried following the yoga routine, and I can’t because my stomach hurts from laughing so much. I don’t even think he means to be funny sometimes. Honorable mention: Every Dream Plan episode. He has a really warm personality, and watching him be himself has been such a pleasure.
Mark: It’s Dangerous Outside The Blankets. He laughs with his whole body, and him laughing while that drone was stuck on the ceiling is the sound that greets you when you enter heaven. Also, seeing Mark without make-up (and his lil’ mustache 😤), cooking, playing around and being happy makes me very happy. 
Xiaojun: The behind the scenes video to WayV’s ‘Let Me Love U”. When he smiles, it really feels like everything in my life will turn out good. I really enjoy him playing around with his friends, getting to be a part of something that makes him happy.
Hendery: The SMROOKIES ‘Re-born’ ep.2. It’s special to me because it was my first real introduction to Hendery. I knew he was going to be one of my favorites the first time I watched it. Hendery imitating the sound of a cats belly when it’s purring is the cutest thing!
Renjun: I thought really hard about what I wanted for his. There are a lot of moments that stand out, but the one I’m most proud of is Renjun getting to be a part of his own radio show. I just linked an episode from awhile ago, but honestly, every episode so far has been great. It’s nice to see him getting the recognition he deserves.
Jeno: Jeno’s NCT DREAM challenge video. I think what he did for the challenge was really cool and impressive. This whole video, though it is short, really highlights Jeno’s drive to succeed, and his discipline. He keeps trying and trying until he gets it right, which I find super admirable. Also, see Jaemin’s answer.
Haechan: This may come as a surprise, but he means more to me than any other member. When he was injured last year, I took it kind of hard. Not having him for months made me feel grateful for all of the content we do get. My boy works very hard. I hope one day I’ll get to thank him for all of it. It’s not a video, but a voice VLIVE that I happened to catch live, on Valentine’s Day (in Korea). I was getting ready to shower when it came on, and I just remember laying on my floor with my phone up to my ear trying not to sob.😭
Jaemin: The Best Day with NCT DREAM. This whole documentary-type program really touched me. The reason I put it under Jaemin’s is because I know how he loves to volunteer, and that kind of love he has for other people can really be shown in this program. He’s a special person, and I really hope all of that kindness he dishes it find its way back to him a million times over (Jeno too).
YangYang: In the one Dream Plan episode, Ten did something really sneaky during a game and tricked him. YangYang could have reacted with annoyance-like other members would have- but he reacted with such a genuine innocent naivety, that it actually broke my heart to watch. I think this is the moment when I realized how special YangYang was. He trusted Ten so easily. 
Chenle: His interactions with HRVY in that one NCT Daily. Chenle went out of his way to make their guest comfortable by talking with him in his limited English, trying to include him in group things, and just being so friendly towards him. 😩😭
Jisung: The Dancing High episode where he did the Barcode dance with Jang Yoonjun. You can feel his passion through the screen. I remember seeing that for the first time, and realizing how much he’s grown as a dancer, a performer, and as a young man.
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