#anyway this was in my drafts for ages too and I was too chicken to post it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sawtastic-sideblog · 10 months

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I am so sorry to anon. I meant to save what I posted as a draft and it posted while I was taking a test. Anyway here's the finished one!

Contains spoilers for Downton Abbey season 3 and Adam is a LotR fan in this I jsut forgot to write it in.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Adam climbs, ready to see his beloved children. The last few days have been rough for him. He's had to follow a doctor that has been cheating on his wife. It's emotionally draining.

He fumbles the his keys and drops them to the floor with a loud clang! Adam curses under his breath as he bends to pick up his keys. He hears a door open to his right, revealing a short plump woman with green eyes that shimmer in the dim hallway lighting.

"Oh, Adam! I thought that was you! How are you, darlin'?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Ortega. How are you? And Mr. Ortega?"

"We're both good. We wanted to invite you over for dinner next weekend. My family is flying in, his family is driving up, and we're gonna have some friends over too."

"Oh, um, thank you, Ms. Ortega, but I don't know. I'm not big on crowds and in small spaces. Not really my scene."

"How 'bout I bring you a plate? My family is bringing the southern cuisine and Miguel's family is bringing the authentic Mexican cuisine. Abuelita is making tamales. My mama's making her chicken and dumplins and I'm making my blueberry pie you like so much."

"That sounds greats, Mrs. O. Thanks."

"It's not a problem dear. Oh and I think my daddy is bringing you some old camera equipment his daddy gave to him. He said somethin' about one of th first cameras ever made being passed through the generations. He likes you, son."

"Oh, wow, I couldn't accept that."

"You will. Daddy is very convincing. Especially in his old age."

"Eighty one isn't that old."

Mrs. Ortega laughs and turns to walk back into her apartment. Adam jams his key into the lock as his neighbor calls out to him.

"Give some love to Merry and Pippin for me?"

"Of course, I will. Goodnight, Mrs. Ortega."

"Goodnight, Adam."

Adam walks into his apartment and throws his keys in the bowl of the table by the door. He sets his bag down on the table as he toes off his shoes. He scans the open area of his apartment in the light from the standing lamp by the wall.

"Mer? Pip? Where are you?"

He makes his way into the kitchen and grabs a can and a bag of cat food. He turns around to pick up two ceramic food bowls. One blue with 'Merry' etched into it with white paint making the letters pop and the other is a matching green one with 'Pippin etched into the side. Birthday gifts from Mrs. Ortega. She always treats Adam, Merry, and Pippin like her own kids. The Ortegas never had children of their own but have nieces and nephews who come to visit sometimes. Mia, the thirteen year old daughter of Mrs. Ortega's sister, has taken an interest in photography. Everytime she visits, Adam gets a knock on his door. He's more than happy to talk with Mia, go on walks with her, her brothers, aunt, and uncle to take pictures of the world around them, and show her how to develop pictures in his home red room.

Adam turns back around to see a figure sniffing at the bag of food. A pair or yellow eyes look up at him expectantly. Adam smiles warmly.

"Hi, honey," he says as he walks to the counter and sets the bowls down. He holds his finger up and moves it towards a small pink nose. "Boop."

A small 'mrrrhp' is the response Adam gets before the cat headbutts Adam's hand, demanding to have attention. He happily obliges and scratches the cat's head.

"Hello, my little Merry-baby," Adam coos. Merry rubs against Adam's chest as he opens the can of food and halves it into the bowls. He adds some dry food with it. His cats will eat anything and, somehow, Mrs. Ortega has a lot of cat food and brings it to him. He doesn't complain. Free food for the cats.

Merry, the cat currently sitting on the counter watching as Adam walks towards the mat again, is an orange short-haired tabby. She has yellow eyes that are always full of mischief. She is two years old and is so full of energy. She loves to cuddle and always finds her a seat somewhere on or near Adam. She was sitting outside of the hospital one day as Adam was leaving. In his very drowsy, tired, and sick mind he decided to try to catch her and ran out into the middle of the road. He was almost hit by a bus, but a tall, blonde man pulled him out of the way. When Adam went to protest the man shut him down, grabbed the cat, shoved it into his arms, and told him to go home. Adam went back to the hospital for a dislocated shoulder a few months later and met the man again. A doctor by the name of Lawrence Gordon. Adam was smitten by him and asked for his number while under th influence of painkillers. Dr. Gordon laughed and asked about the cat.

Pippin, who is currently no where to be seen, is a short-haired tuxedo cat. He's nine years old and likes to lay around in the sun all day. He's still spry in his old age and is often found perched at the top of the cat tower. Yet, another gift from the Ortegas that was made by Mr. Ortega himself. He's been with Adam for a long time, since he was six months old. Adam found him in the dumpster behind a bar. He was trying to hook up with some girl who was so drunk she couldn't keep the contents of her stomach inside. Adam heard a small sound coming from the dumpster and peeked inside. He saw a plastic bag moving around. Curious and slightly drunk, Adam reaches for it. When he opensnit he finds a very small and malnourished cat. His yellow eyes wide in fear. Adam looks back at the woman and decides to call her a cab. He waits with her when her friends come out and gush over the kitten and thank him for the cab. Adam gets home and looks up how to take care of a kitten. He was terrified because he could hardly take care of himself.

"Food time, babies," Adam calls. Merry leaps off the counter and walks over to her bowl. The sound of old joints popping and the shaking of the cat tree from the cat atop of it stretching. Adam walks over to the wooden tower covered in soft fabric and puts a hand out. The old cat bumps Adam's hand with his head. Adam scoops him up and cradles him in his arms. He walks towards the untouched bowl of food as he peppers kisses all over Pippin's head. He gently places the old cat by his bowl and walk to his bedroom to change into his pajamas. His phone vibrates in his hand as he walks toward the living room.

"Hey, babe," Adam greets his friend.

"Adam, I've told you not to call me that."

"Aw, come on, Larry, everyone deserves to be called 'babe' every once in a while."

"Yes and I have a wife who calls me that," Lawrence counters. Despite the annoyance in his voice, Adam can hear a smile.

"Whaddya want, Larry? I gotta fix food and cuddle cats."

"Alison wanted to see if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow night."

"How about you guys come over. Diana loves the cats and the Ortega's are having a dinner party next week, so I was thinking about having them over for dinner before then. I won't feel bad if they bring me a plate after that," Adam jokes. He hears Lawrence chuckle before he continues. "I also have this recipe Zep from work sent me. Looks pretty good. And it comes from Zep. He's an amazing cook."

"I have to agree with you. Let me run it Alison."

"Let me talk to her. I'm very persuasive."

"Okay, hold on. I have to go find her," Lawrence laughs.

"Hey, babe," Alison's voice rings down the line. Pippin hops onto the couch and bumbles his way over to Adam, sitting beside him with paws on his thigh. Adam's hand immediately goes to Pippin's head and scratched behind his ear. The cat purrs in appreciation.

"Hi, Ali. Adam is on the phone to talk about dinner plans. You're on speaker, Adam."

"Hi, Adam."

"Hey, Alison. Lawrence said you wanted to have dinner together tomorrow night. I was thinking you guys could come over and, hi, Merry, I'll have the Ortegas over. Zep gave me a new recipe," Adam explains and greets his cat by petting her head.

"Sounds great. Six work for you?"

"Perfect. I'll let Mrs. O know."

"Need us to bring anything?"

"Just your dazzling smile and Larry's charming personality. Oh, and Diana. Can't forget her."

"They won't forget me!" A small voice yells indignantly. Adam laughs and grabs the remote from the coffee table. He reclines back and props his feet on the table. Merry walks down Adam's legs to the coffee table and just sits staring out at nothing on the other side of the room. Adam's hand finds Pippin's side and pats.

"Did your hear anything, dear?" Lawrence asks, amusement dripping off his words.

"No, did you?"

"Nope," Lawrence says.

"Adam! Tell mommy and daddy that I'm right here!"

"I think there's an intruder in your house, Larry."

"Me too. I'll go take a look."

"He's on the hunt," Alison says. Adam hears the grin in her voice and can imagine Lawrence stalking around the kitchen and living room of his house. He hears high pitched squeals and laughter coming from his phone. His eyes scan the rows of television shows and movies on his screen. He chooses his guilty pleasure show. 'Downton Abbey' has been his thing for years. He, Alison, Diana, and Mrs. Ortega often have watch parties. When he has a bad day, likes to cuddle up under a pile of blankets, eat his weight in pizza, and cuddle the cats. "Do you have food, Adam?"

"Yeah, I ordered pizza."

"Good. Just making sure you're eating. Lawrence told me about your bad day."

"Yeah, it has sucked, but I have my kittens to cheer me up."

"Have a better night."

"Thanks, Al. I appreciate you. and Larry. And the rugrat." "Goodnight, Adam. We love you." "Bye, Adam!" "Bye, Addy!"

Lawrence and Diana both shout at the same time. The corners of Adam's lips curl up at the use of his nickname Diana gave him. He bids them goodnight and hangs up. The doorbell rings and he stands up, much to Pippin's displeasure. Adam brings the pizza over to the coffee table and turns on the show. Hours later, Adam is still watching the show. Tears stream down his face as Tom Branson clings to Sybil.

"Please, don't leave me, Love," Tom begs.

"Don't leave him, Sybil," Adam whispers as he wipes tears away. Merry stretches from her spot in Adam's arms, her head in the crook of his neck and his arm cradling her like a baby. His other hand returns to Pippin's back. Pippin is laying in a loaf on Adam's thigh. He is facing the television, staring in the direction of it, almost like he is watching as Sybil's life fades and, once again, the Crawley family is thrown into the arms of grief.

"Fuck," Adam sobs, burying his face into Merry's side. Merry's paws finds Adam's head as she starts to chew on Adam's hair. She twists and turns and hops from Adam's arm onto the arm of the couch. He picks up Pippin and pulls his feet out form under him and onto the floor. The episode ends and Adam turns off the television.

"I think it's time for bed, kitterinos," Adam says as he stands and stretches. He wipes at his face as he goes though and turns off all the lights. He goes to brush his teeth, cats following him all the way. The orange rubs her face against his ankles.

"Meow," Pippin calls from the bedroom door.

"Ahh," Adam says back. Pippin responds with another meow and Adam responds with another lowercase scream. They go on like this until Adam goes into the bedroom.

Once in bed, Merry finds her way to the second pillow on the bed and curls up facing Adam. Pippin finds his rightful place on Adam's chest as Adam scrolls on Youtube to find a video to listen to as he goes to sleep. "Goodnight, my sweet boy. Goodnight, my sweet girlie. My pretty kitties."

He closes his eyes and runs his hands over Pippin's back. The old cat purrs and does the little paw thing that cats do over Adam's ribs. Merry presses her head against Adam's head. He smiles and reaches his free hand up to pet her. She spins in a circle and lays with her face on Adam's shoulder, one paw tucked under her and the other on Adam's shoulder. Adam angles his head towards Merry's back and lays his face on her hip.

He feels so loved by these two small creatures. They put all their trust in him and he puts his own happiness with them. The three of them are a family. They all love and trust each other. This is the most love Adam has felt in his life. He can say that these two make his life complete and he doesn't know what he'd do without them.

Adam is lulled to sleep by the sound of both of the cats purring and Shayne Topp's voice reading Reddit stories.

#saw 2004 #saw franchise #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #leigh whannell #amanda young #john kramer #mark hoffman #saw fanfic #tobin bell

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thera-daydreams · 3 years

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ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴏʟᴅ ʟᴀᴅʏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

ᗢ jujutsu kaisen x scarletwitch!reader ᗢ

05. geto suguru

the traitor who calls people monkeys but later on gets his body hijacked by a literal mastermind creature

Chapter Index & Synopsis

warning: will contain spoilers from the jjk manga and the latest mcu shows (particularly wandavision and loki, as well as rumors from doctor strange in the multiverse of madness). once again, this will contain heavy spoilers—you have been warned. This chapter in particular is the most manga spoiler-filled, too. Beware when you scroll down! Thank heavens I drafted this sorta-complicated chapter during my summer break... 'cause now that school's back, the next chapters I haven't drafted yet will take a bit of time. Though this is Geto's chapter, he's kind of still in a haze when you met him, but there'll be more interactions in the upcoming chapters, don't worry, loves. Enjoy this much longer and slightly more complex chapter!

[EDIT] 6/17/2022, 8:03PM: Edited after the mess that happened in DSMOM2.

(word count: 5,843)

(previous chapter)

"What did you do?"

Your current housemate—a once infamous assassin—gave you a very suspicious look while you happily grinded the herbs for your marinated honey lemon chicken. Today deserved a delicious dinner meal and some fine, aged French wine!

You blinked, turning to Toji. "Hmm?"

"You've been in an awfully good mood since last night," he noted. "You've been singing to yourself, dancing while you took out the trash..." His eyes narrowed. "Something happened."

You shrugged, the lines on your face accentuated as you smiled knowingly, "Maybe. But that bastard deserved what was coming to him."

"... You confronted Sukuna, didn't you?"

You didn't respond, simply uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring him a full glass. "Cheers!"

"You know I don't drink wi—"

"Just take a seat, Toji."

Before he could finish his sentence, both of you were now in the dining room, sitting down. After he got over the mild whiplash from the unexpected teleportation (damn, you could do that, too?), he realized he was now holding a stein of ice cold beer in his right hand.

Toji frowned, "Y/N, I don't drink alco—"

Now he was holding a warm cup of jasmine tea instead of an alcoholic drink. On the other side of the table, you held a fancy glass of red wine, giving him an expectant look.

"Well?"

He took a cautious sip of the fragrant tea. Like all the desserts and meals and drinks you had in the shop, this was just as wonderful as any of them.

"It's good," he muttered. It wasn't his fault he was choosy! He'd given up alcohol years ago to avoid getting drunk and spending his money on it (but his logic was flawed since, well, he'd gamble it away, anyway). Seems like questioning how you defied the laws of physics was useless.

"So... magic?"

The smile you had on all day reappeared on your face, "Mmmhmm. Magic. Now stop talking about that damned Curse King."

He laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll stop. But any chance you could magic me some meat and offal?" he suggested with a mischievous look in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."

You pointed your finger on the table and poof! There was now an entire selection of your housemate's favorite food, as well as a Korean-style barbecue grill in the middle of the table.

"Holy shit, why haven't you done this before?" On Toji's face was an ear-splitting grin. At that moment, he looked like a child lost in a candy shop.

"I spoil you too much," you expressed. "So much for my honey lemon chicken. You're lucky I'm not taking this out of your paycheck."

He shrugged, not denying it, "I am lucky to have you as my boss."

You thought that nothing could ruin your smug mood for the entire month (unless Sukuna himself showed up on your front door, of course) but a few weeks later, you stood corrected.

God, you really shouldn't have jinxed it.

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

This guy was something else. When he entered the shop, he was accompanied by two cursed spirits with a significantly high amount of cursed energy (one plant-based, one fire-based, how very Pokémon-y), as well as a ghost that looked like the man who you just served tea to. You briefly wondered why the ghost wasn't in his body.

Then it dawned unto you.

Was there... someone else inhabiting his body?

With a forced smile, you hid the fact that you could see the curses and the ghost (whom you doubted these curses could even see). You noticed that although the ghost and the strange man sitting beside the curses looked exactly alike, the man had a single horizontal stitch running across his forehead while the ghost did not.

Something was wrong here. Very wrong.

You didn't make it obvious, however, as you asked the man if he had any additional orders.

"The café special for today is the matcha cream puff!" you enthusiastically recommended, masking your apprehension. One of the spirits, Jogo—from what you read in all their thoughts—openly expressed his distaste for you, dissecting your short, elderly frame little by little. The other one, Hanami, was quieter.

"Tsk. This one won't be living too long," he snidely commented to the man, who only hummed in response. "Too bad."

In your mind, you imagined choking the arrogant volcano head. But you quickly calmed yourself down, focusing on the person with stitches on his forehead. Hitting lava guy can come later.

"Hmm... let me think..." the man with stitches said.

For this strange man, curses called him Geto, but in that man's mind, you could see something evil and old. As old as Sukuna, perhaps, and something about a Noritoshi Kamo.

Definitely not the student Noritoshi you knew in the Kyoto campus, but likely, related. An ancestor from the same clan, maybe. You've read something about him before in the tomes Tengen let you borrow.

You continued skimming his mind and ah, there it was, Kenjaku. This fake Geto's real identity was Kenjaku. That would mean that the ghost exhaustedly floating beside him was probably the real Geto.

Then, you saw it. All of it.

Just like what you saw in Ultron when he first tried creating a new body all those years ago.

Annihilation.

The Shibuya Plan.

Or, in this case, the Shibuya Incident. October 31st of 2018.

You saw it all. The killing of Mechamaru, the massacre of hundreds of innocents in the underground train station, the sealing of Gojo Satoru, the return of Okkotsu Yuta, the deaths of Nanami Kento, Masamichi Yaga, and countless more. You saw the rampage of Sukuna, the vengeance of Zenin Maki after Zenin Mai's death, the obliteration of the Zenin Clan, Choso and Yuki fighting, Nobara... Sukuna... Megumi... what had happened to them... and everything else. The casualties were immeasurable.

The saddest among them all for you? Yuuji's remorse.

You could see a reflection of yourself in his guilt. The complete destruction of Sokovia, the mess you made in Lagos, the Westview Anomaly, the Multiverse of Madness—until today, you were still emotionally repenting. Atoning for your sins.

That image of your son with a scar on his face was painstakingly engraved into your mind. The innocence was completely gone from his eyes. Partially, it disappeared already (judging from what you'd seen in his thoughts about the detention center and the recent Junpei Yoshino incident with Nanami and the curse with stitches). From what you were seeing now, the curse with stitches—Mahito—was an accomplice to this fake Geto, as well. He wasn't around as of the moment; you figured he was still recovering from whatever fight Nanami and Yuuji engaged him in.

You noted it. October 31, 2018. Just a few months from now.

2018.

Funny, wasn't it? In your universe, the year 2018 was the anniversary of Vision's first death, too. The Snap. The decimation of half the universe. Recalling that you had been the last one standing in-between the Mind Stone and the Mad Titan in the Battle of Wakanda made unwanted memories resurface.

Maybe if you were stronger, you could've saved everyone. But you couldn't. You were dusted in the Snap, too. When you came back, your best friend was gone. Natasha, one of your first friends in the Avengers and a sister-figure to you, had given up her life for that damn Soul Stone to revive you and all the others. When you came back, Vision was gone. His body was gone... and then you had to find his remains being disassembled like he was a mere piece of metal. A weapon. Not a person whom you loved and loved you back.

Blood boiled in your veins. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

After the Shibuya Plan would be what was called the Culling Game, wherein newly-made sorcerers would have to participate or die. A battle royale of survival. This impostor had a dangerous plan brewing. A plan that could threaten the safety of all of Japan, maybe even the globe.

You saw all of that havoc in just a moment. A split second. It had come and go as quickly as a single thought.

Back in the real world, you inhaled sharply at the spine-chilling premonition, startling your guests—the two curses, the human (?), and the soul. Thinking quickly, you disguised it by clutching your heart, pretending that you had a frail old woman's heart. Yet, after what you just saw—the unfortunate fates of your new, beloved allies—it wasn't all that hard to pretend your heart wasn't in pain. It was. And it reminded you of a pain you thought you'd left behind years ago.

Your head hurt, and you felt like puking your guts out.

"Agh... oh my," you exhaled shakily.

"Are you alright?" the pseudo-Geto asked with feigned concern. He even stood up, going to help you.

You shook your head, raising your palm to stop him, "Yes, yes. I'm fine. Just... a little... nauseous." You acted like you were steadying your breathing, then put up a weary smile for them. "I'm sorry. My heartburn has been acting up a lot lately. One of these days, it might turn out to be a heart attack!"

"Tsk. Serves you right, human. She doesn't even have any cursed energy. Weakling," Jogo muttered. Hanami was silent, only staring at you. You disregarded his comment, keeping your attention on Kenjaku.

This lunatic.

"Again, I'm sorry, dear," you told him with a slight bow, then returned to your original goal. "Oh! Did you want the matcha cream puffs?"

"I would like that very much, Ma'am," Kenjaku politely replied. It was so polite it was beginning to grind on your nerves. This man was nowhere near respectful. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes. I'll... I'll be okay." You waved him off, changing the topic. "How many do you want to order?"

"A dozen, please."

You were tempted to place poisoned herbs in their order, but refrained, instead plastering another fake happy smile on your face.

"Alrighty-then! Give me a few minutes to prepare the meal, alright? Would you like a fresh brew of our bestselling coffee, too?"

"Sure," he nodded. This Kenjaku and the curses watched as you went into the kitchen and closed the door.

Toji was there, giving you a stern look (probably because his senses were as sharp as ever). You made sure to enhance the spell in the kitchen so no one from outside could hear or see your conversation. Then, you leaned your back on the table, trying to process what you had just seen.

It was too much.

"There are cursed spirits outside," he told you with a frown. He noticed how unnerved you were. That was unusual. Normally, customers carrying cursed spirits wouldn't have bothered you. Yet, right now, it looked like you were sick. However, he did note the high levels of cursed energy outside, atypical of the usual cursed spirits that visited the shop. "Do you need me to take care of them?"

"... I'm... I'm trying to remember something. Wait. " Ignoring him, you went straight to the point and stared up at him, eyes desperate, "Do you know a guy named Kenjaku? An old client, maybe? Or a target from the past?"

You really did hope this Kenjaku wasn't the ancient one you'd read about very briefly in a scroll. He was only mentioned shortly.

Toji paused, then shook his head.

"How about a man named Geto? I saw it in his thoughts. Geto Suguru. The name rings a bell. From what I know, Geto Suguru is supposed to be dead from that incident last year..."

There was recognition in his eyes, "Huh. Yeah. I knew that kid. He was that Gojo's partner. The cursed spirit manipulator. We fought each other after I killed the Star Plasma Vessel... and before that boy with the Six Eyes managed to kill me." He muttered the last part.

This revelation greatly alarmed you. This Geto was probably that same Geto who used to be Gojo's best friend.

Used to be.

You'd caught Gojo thinking about him occasionally. It was one of those rare times he was quiet in your shop, but his thoughts were running rampant. The spirit outside could be the Geto Suguru who was known to be the worst of all curse users. The traitor who killed an entire village then died a few years ago at the hands of Satoru himself during the Goodwill Event.

You put the pieces of the puzzle together, making sense of the vision you saw.

Kenjaku was possessing Geto's dead body. That was his cursed technique. But Geto wasn't fully dead yet (or his soul hadn't moved on to the afterlife yet because of Kenjaku). It was why you could see his spirit, just like how you saw Toji's.

You then explained the entire situation to the Zenin clan deserter, summarizing to him the Shibuya Plan which was to take place soon. Heck, you even told him that he was supposedly going to be revived during the incident by one certain curse user and that the Zenin Clan was going to be massacred.

"This Kenjaku... I read it in his mind and his memories—"

"—You can read memories, too? Damn."

"Shut up and let me finish. This Kenjaku is as old as Sukuna himself, and I'm guessing that since you're from one of the Big Three Sorcerer Clans, you know about that villainous Noritoshi Kamo."

He blinked, "I've heard of him, yeah."

"Aside from those Death Paintings: Cursed Wombs he created in the last century, he's planning something else." Your face was steeled and serious, a contrast to how happy-go-lucky and laid-back you usually were. "Kenjaku... his cursed technique allows him to transplant his brain into different bodies to possess them and he's inhabited different people throughout the centuries, assuming different identities, experimenting on people and curses alike. He believes that the next stage of human evolution is not to remove, but to optimize cursed energy."

"... You got all that from reading his mind in one minute?"

"One split second, actually." You sighed tiredly, "It was horrible. Absolutely sick. And those stupid cursed spirits kept looking at me like I was dirt. Do you know how hard it is to pretend you don't hear them telling you to go die? I had to fake a heartburn when I accidentally reacted to their plan!"

That made the man chuckle, "What do you plan on doing, then?"

"I'll serve his matcha cream puffs and coffee. And hope they don't burn down the shop... not that they can, the runes will render them powerless within the shop—"

"Runes?"

You gave him a blank stare. "Those white symbols on the corner walls and the entrance doorframe aren't just for decoration, Toji."

An amused look appeared on his face, "... Every day you manage to surprise me, granny."

You rubbed your face, "I don't know if that was a compliment or not, but I'm planning to make the real Geto's soul stay here. I want to talk to him. Maybe do the same thing I did to you to him."

"You're giving him a mannequin body?"

"Yes."

"What if he decides to kill you?"

"Then I undo the spell."

"... Oh, so that's what will happen if I try to kill you."

You hit his arm playfully, "So disrespectful, Toji."

He rolled his eyes, but there was a smirk on his face. You prepared a plate of matcha cream puffs, a cup of steaming coffee, and then exited the kitchen.

Time to serve those little pieces of crap.

Toji shook his head, returning to molding the dough for a new batch of buttery garlic bread (you'd taught him well and thankfully, he no longer burned the kitchen down after weeks of intensive baking training).

Luckily for you, the curses didn't try anything inside the bakery. When they left, however, the ghost of Geto Suguru was strangely left behind. He couldn't get out of the exit and follow his physical body.

He cussed, "Shit, why can't I—"

"Don't try to struggle, sweetheart. It's futile," you called out from the cashier, counting some money. "That brain thing stole your body, didn't he?"

Geto stilled, realizing that you could hear and see him. A dead man. You also knew about his situation. He was confused.

"Yes, I can hear and see you, dear. So, you're the infamous Geto Suguru." Your head tilted at him curiously. "Tell me, do you want to have a living body again?"

"I—"

"That's a yes or no question."

"..."

"... Who are you?" he asked warily.

A sincere smile appeared on your face as you stepped away from the cashier, walking closer to him and extending a hand towards him, "My name is Y/N L/N."

He looked down at the hand, hesitant.

"I can help you be free, Geto-san. Only if you'll let me."

He cautiously lifted his hand from his side, his larger one encapsulating your smaller one. He was dead anyway, so what harm could it be?

Woooosh!

He didn't even get to process that you were able to touch him, too, when everything flashed red.

You did to him what you did to Toji.

Geto couldn't believe it. He was alive again (kind of)—through a former mannequin's body!

"In exchange for giving you a new body, you'll be helping around in the kitchen with dear Toji-kun. You two know each other already, so talk it over." You pulled him to where Sorcerer Killer was (and Geto visibly paled at the familiar face, even if it was years ago).

Suguru was stunned, "Isn't he the Sorcerer Ki—"

"Toji-kun! Do me a favor and explain to him everything he needs to know, will you?"

The ex-assassin scowled, but nodded. After hearing about the Shibuya Plan, he understood why you were doing this.

"Fine. Sit down, kid. I'll tell you about what just happened and who that lady there is."

Geto had absolutely no idea how to react to what was happening to him. Was he dreaming? Was he asleep? What?

You read his mind quickly, assuring him. "No, you're not dreaming, hun. Oh! Before I forget," you poked your head back into the kitchen doorway. "No fighting or else the runes won't let you move for an hour. And Geto-san, you'll be telling me all about that Kenjaku man and those cursed spirits he had with him. Plus that Shibuya Plan they have. Gosh, it's Sokovia all over again."

You mumbled that last part so quietly it was indecipherable even to Toji's ears.

Said curse user was speechless. He turned back to the Sorcerer Killer whom he'd fought many years ago, swallowing in unease. Didn't Gojo kill this guy already? Were you the one to bring him back from the afterlife, too? Who were you, exactly?

Many weeks later, he still wondered how a weird old lady managed to resurrect slash free him from Kenjaku, worm her way into his heart, and appoint him as the chef of her kitchen (Toji was assigned to be the baker; besides, Geto was better at cooking the meals than he was—those years of taking care of Mimiko and Nanako honed that certain talent of his).

What exactly was happening?

He had to be honest with himself, though, whatever was happening, he really did like this new life of his—something about your place, and about you, was really calming. Suguru could tell that Toji, who was a known murderer, loved what he was doing, as well.

The hefty allowances you gave both of them were a plus, too. Hell, you gave him his own room and bathroom in your household (Toji didn't seem surprised at all that you just magicked the space out of nowhere; he had probably grown used to it).

Your retirement in this universe wasn't going as well as you hoped it to be after recent events, but oh well. Now two of the most dangerous men in the jujutsu world worked under you and lived under the same roof as you did. Your adopted son was the vessel of a 1000-year-old curse and you also had another crazy 1000-year-old psychopath who wanted to create a real-life Hunger Games. Was this even a retirement, still?

One could just imagine what happened when you finally introduced your "new hires" to Nanami and Gojo... Megumi and Yuuji, too.

"Momma, why'd you call us here so late at night?" Yuuji asked, still in his sleepwear as he rubbed his eyes, leaning on an obviously-disturbed-from-sleep Megumi's shoulder.

At the moment, you didn't care that Sukuna would be hearing this conversation. He wasn't of priority right now.

"Is everything alright?" Kento asked, already concerned about your wellbeing (how sweet, this man). You had no idea if Nanami had been sleeping, but when you called asking him to come to the shop for an urgent matter, he came without hesitation. Unlike on most days wherein he would be wearing a suit, tonight he was only wearing his glasses and some cool-toned loungewear. Gojo, on the other hand, had the audacity to show up in bunny slippers and a fluffy grey bathrobe.

The white-haired man whined, "Nehhhhh, Y/N, since it's the middle of the night, you should give me something sweet to compensate!"

This was the moment of truth.

Ignoring Gojo's statement, you exhaled deeply, "Please don't freak out!"

The four males in front of you stared, confused. "What?"

You then dragged a scowling Toji and a sighing Geto out of your kitchen.

The silence that followed was so loud you could hear a pin drop.

Hell, even Sukuna popped out as a mouth on Yuuji's face, wanting to see what the fuss was about (he also wanted to see you and was soon disappointed to find you in your elderly form again).

"Kento, Satoru, Yuuji-kun, Megumi-kun," you began, trying not to focus on their astounded faces. "Meet my... uh, new hires. And housemates. They've been here with me for quite some time already, and I know you know who they are."

And for the first time since you met him, you heard a wide-eyed Nanami swear, "... Holy shit."

Megumi and Yuuji were clueless at first, though, having no idea who Toji and Geto were. But when they found out... well, needless to say, Gojo had a lot of history to catch up with his ex-best friend (still-best-friend-but-it's-complicated?) while Megumi had the chance to get to know his supposedly dead father even more.

Sukuna was even more interested to see Megumi's father himself, hailed to be a notorious (the notorious) Sorcerer Killer. He thought of how good Megumi already was with his potential, but what of the man who had zero cursed energy yet could destroy cursed beings and humans with little to no effort?

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

"... So let me get this straight, this Shibuya Plan you're telling us is going to happen soon. I get sealed away, then Nanami, Yaga, and a whole bunch of people might get killed by those Special Grades we encountered recently. The higher-ups get their way, too, and the Zenin clan is destroyed by Maki-chan."

"Yes."

"And that Kenjaku guy who stole Suguru's body is out there planning the next Hunger Games, but no Jennifer Lawrence. Sorry, Yuuji-kun. And the entirety of Japan and probably the world is plunged into danger."

His summary was, in essence, accurate. Thus, you nodded. "... Uh, yes. You're correct."

"And though you don't have any cursed energy, you can use actual literal magic and can read thoughts anytime—"

"Only when I need to, Satoru. Or when the person is practically screaming in their heads. Which is what you're doing right now."

"And revive people—"

"—Create bodies for trapped or lost souls," you quickly corrected, shaking your head. "Necromancy has a high risk of instability so I like to avoid it, especially if the soul has already fully moved on to the afterlife. If I try to actually resurrect someone, I would need the original body, too, thus it's a limited option."

The men stared at you, not knowing what to say.

"Ooooooookay," Gojo mumbled, still glancing at Geto every once in a while. "And those symbols on the doorframe and on the corner of the walls, they're for protection?"

"Yes. The runes are a basic protection spell, and they've actually created a barrier around this building for safety. They deactivate anything dangerous. I've also made it magically undetectable, which might be unnecessary since I don't know if you guys can sense it or not. It's not made from cursed energy, after all."

"Huh. I actually don't detect it with my Six Eyes," Gojo wondered. "Makes sense. But I did always feel like the atmosphere would change whenever I went inside the shop."

"I thought it was just the theme and the décor," Nanami pondered, slowly processing what you were saying. "Is the calming aura literally an effect of the barrier?"

"Well, maybe both the café itself and the barrier," you chimed in. "I made it hospitable so that all customers and anyone in it would feel totally comfortable!"

"Much appreciated," Geto mumbled, now understanding why being in the shop and your home felt nice. Really nice. Nicer than anywhere he's been as someone alive. He wasn't complaining, whatever that barrier was or what was in it.

"What else can you do, Momma?" Yuuji inquired curiously, trying to ignore the strangely-jolly Sukuna mouth on his cheek.

"The brat's right," Sukuna hummed, speaking up for the first time. Everyone in the room paid attention to his overly-interested voice. "What else can you do, woman?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, still a tad cross with him from that incident. "Nothing that concerns you, Curse King."

"Hmph. We'll see."

You made up an excuse, "And besides, we'd be here all night if I said them all. A woman's gotta keep her some of her secrets! The only thing I'll tell you is that my magic allows me to do many things... aside from talking to different types of beings in the spiritual realm."

"... Why are doing this for us anyway, Y/N?" Gojo huffed, a little overwhelmed.

He and Nanami were still in disbelief at how Toji Zenin and Suguru Geto were "revived" by you and now you're telling them you read the mind of the evil mastermind who was currently residing in the real Geto's body. Heck, they only just found out about your... special powers that were apparently not jujutsu but magic.

It was a lot to take in.

Megumi sat quietly beside his father, not yet speaking a word since the revelation.

"Well..." You gazed at the wooden ceiling of your shop. "I'm a retired woman who just wants to live life in peace." Your nose scrunched up as you reflected on why you were actually doing this. "I may not look like it, but trust me when I say that I've had enough experience with individuals like Kenjaku. It's why I've decided to take matters like the Shibuya Plan into my own hands."

They merely stared at you, wondering what you were talking about.

You looked back down at your reflection in the dark cup of coffee you held, "I knew a man—well, he wasn't exactly a man, per say—who said he wanted to make a better world. Growing up in a warzone, you can't really blame me for siding with him."

Ultron.

They didn't know anything about your past, but now they did. A little bit. And the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to click together.

"When I was younger and didn't know any better, I sided with him for a time... until I looked in his head and saw annihilation. I found out that this better world he was talking about could only be accomplished when..." Your voice trailed off as you recalled that meteor crashing into the planet—the meteor that turned out to be your war-torn homeland.

You didn't realize you were lost in your thoughts, until Geto prodded. "When what?"

"When everyone is dead," you replied quietly. "To him, the world would only be better if there weren't humans in it. I could see his point, but that was pure extremism." You shook your head. "There's this other... madman I knew, too, who wanted to eliminate half the population to maintain balance so that finite resources wouldn't be used up."

Thanos.

You glanced at Geto, who was suddenly in a state of deep thought. You knew he was rethinking about his philosophy of killing all non-sorcerers.

"Where are these two guys?" Gojo inquired seriously. Everything you told him about what might happen in the future alarmed him. He had to rethink his emergency plans should he ever be incapacitated.

That Prison Realm was bad news.

You chuckled and brushed it aside, irises momentarily glowing a dim red they barely noticed. "Oh, please. Don't worry. First guy's heart was ripped out of his chest and second guy's nothing but a pile of ashes now. We just need to focus on Kenjaku now."

The four men—who'd stilled at your statement—could tell that you may have had something to do with it. Sukuna, on the other hand, was more intrigued.

The King of Curses was a hundred percent sure you did have something to do with those two men you spoke of. He didn't say anything, however. The way you smiled just now wasn't the sincere, happy one they were used to seeing, as well.

"Huh, I wonder why," Toji remarked, the only one aside from Sukuna who was able to glimpse your combat abilities.

"The kids..." you began reluctantly, referring to the students of Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu High. "Jujutsu sorcerer or not, I don't want to give them a future that's all war and misery."

"That, I agree with fully," Gojo said, crossing his arms.

"Besides, this is my home now," you grinned. This time, your smile was true and reached your eyes. "And this time, I'm going to make things right. I'm going to help fight for it. For you, guys. You're all my precious people. Either way, it's the only way I can finally actually enjoy my retirement." Their hearts warmed at your statement. Precious people, huh?

You may not have been able to do something when Geto himself unleashed the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons in Shinjuku and Tokyo last year (you had been away, visiting your home universe for Christmas with Loki and Strange; what bad timing), but this Shibuya Plan wasn't something you'd leave unattended. It would affect the entirety of Japan and possibly, this whole world. At heart, you were still an Avenger; you'd do what you could to prevent destruction.

You prayed that you were actually going to make things right and not mess up (again). If you were wrong about interfering with these events... well, shit. Still, you knew you weren't going to regret doing this.

The entire café was silent, before you remembered something important.

"Satoru!" you suddenly spoke, a light bulb on your head. "Before I forget..."

"Yeah?"

"... Any chance you can make Yuuta-kun return from overseas?"

He slouched, huffing, "Well, it'll take some convincing of the damned elders—"

"Can you do it?" you asked, more insistent this time.

The white-haired man paused, then smirked cockily, "Do you doubt me that much, Y/N? Of course I can! It's just going to be a pain dealing with those old geezers."

"Good. Because we need all the help we can get against Kenjaku and all the demons you used to store, Suguru-kun. Plus those stupid Special Grades that kept giving me the evil eye. I swear I'll especially strangle that mouthy volcano head myself..."

Now that the mood wasn't as heavy, the men sweat-dropped.

"I'm going to have to make some visits, too," you told them. "First, with Tsumiki-san."

Megumi perked up, hearing his sister's name, "What?"

"I may be able to undo the curse with a spell," you shared to the younger Fushiguro. Beside him, Toji watched his son's reactions carefully. "Just give me a bit of time, okay? I'll remove whatever is on her with my magic so that she doesn't get involved in any of Kenjaku's plans."

Megumi was frozen in shock—so many things happened to him this year and this might be the best amongst all of them.

"I—I," the shikigami user stammered, bowing his head gratefully. "Thank you! Thank you so much, Y/N-san! I'll... I'll be forever in your debt!"

"Don't worry about it, Megumi-kun." You patted his head. All of a sudden, Megumi and Yuuji were gone from the shop.

"What the f—" Gojo sputtered. "Where are my students?"

"Back in their dorms, don't worry. I just needed them out for this specific part of the conversation," you reassured the sensei.

Satoru, Kento, Suguru, and Toji blinked owlishly at you.

You continued, "Second, I need to talk with a certain Mechamaru who's being a double agent. Third, I have to convince Yuuji-kun's brother to join our side!"

"Brother?" Gojo asked, interested and in awe.

"Isn't he an only child?" Nanami muttered to himself.

"A guy named Choso is his half-brother, and so were those two Cursed Womb: Death Paintings he and Nobara-chan killed last week." You shuddered at the memory you'd seen before. "Kenjaku's an utter psychopath. That poor woman Noritoshi Kamo tortured... good God, nine pregnancies and nine abortions for experimentation. That experimentation probably led to Mr. Brain implanting himself into a female body to try it the other way around. Apparently, that's how Yuuji was made!"

Everyone, except Geto who already kind of knew the information from sharing a body with the Brain, looked extremely disturbed.

"You don't look... too surprised with the circumstances, Y/N," Toji commented.

Of course you weren't! You yourself married an android synthezoid and conceived twins immaculately after wishing them into existence in your dream sitcom reality.

You weren't fazed, of course.

"Can't say much about that when my own pregnancy was bizarre as it was," you snorted, entering the kitchen. "Mine practically happened overnight!"

They had no idea you weren't overexaggerating.

"Y/N has kids?" Gojo whispered to Nanami.

"Yeah. Sons, she mentioned to me before. Once," the blonde ex-salaryman replied, frowning. "But when I talked to her about it, she said she didn't have a family anymore."

"Does that mean dead or just out of town...?" Geto inquired.

"She doesn't have any pictures in the house," Toji said. "Not a single one. Even in her room." The other men gave him a suspicious look. The ex-assassin scowled at them. "Hey! I know because she's asked me to clean out the boxes on top of her closet, you bastards."

"Whatever happened, she's been alone for a long time before you two came along," Nanami said, addressing the two men who lived in your home now. "As much as I hate to say it since you two are former jujutsu criminals, I'm glad that she's got someone to look out for her. In case something bad happens to her, curse-related or not."

The Six Eyes-user mentally agreed despite what had happened between him, Suguru, and Toji. He first glanced at his ex-best friend, then at the man who almost killed him in his youth.

The universe really did have a weird way of making things work.

(next chapter.)

Author's Note: Oof. The plot thickens, and the boys now know your magicky-magicness! Sukuna's still the only one who knows about your disguise, though. What happens next? That's a secret for now. 😘

Anyways, how was it? Reblogs, comments, hearts, interactions, and constructive criticism are very appreciated! If you wanna be tagged in the upcoming chapters, feel free to message me or comment (just pleaaase make sure you allow yourselves to be tagged in your settings). 🤗❣️

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attempted--eloquence · 2 years

Text

So I was going through my drafts. and like, back in February when I was thinking about Valentine’s day fic ideas, I ended up drafting this silly matchmaking fic (based on the 36 questions for love) but I decided to abandon it bc it’s silly and I’m too lazy to flesh it out any further than this. But I dunno it’s maybe cute-ish. So I figured I’d post it here. So yeah!

anyway below the cut is Liam and Theo meeting at a matchmaking event<3

Liam Dunbar - ♥ - Theo Raeken

It’s a Match!

——————————

Name - Dunbar, Liam

Age - 25

“Question one,” Mason reads, settling beside Liam on the couch. “What is your idea of a good night out?”

“Uh, I guess…dinner? A movie?” he shrugs. “Wait, no, don’t put that. That’s probably what everyone is gonna say. When’s the last time I even went to a fucking movie theater? Umm, let me think.”

“Liam, dude.”

“No, hold on! Just—just gimme a sec,” he says.

“How about I just put ‘dinner and a movie’ as a provisional answer and we can move on—”

“Got it,” Liam blurts. “Mini golf.”

“Mini golf?”

Liam nods. “Mini golf.”

“Okay. Mini golf,” Mason sighs, typing in his answer.

“Wait! Maybe one of those barcade places, actually?”

“Only ten questions, and yet I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna be here all night,” Mason sighs.

——————————

Name - Raeken, Theo

Age - 27

Tracy stretches out on the futon, draping her legs across Theo’s lap. She says, “Alright, c’mon. What’s your idea of a good night out?”

“That night you, me, Don, and Josh broke in and hotboxed the projection booth during the horror movie fest is hard to beat,” he grins.

“Mm, try again. Something that won’t prompt the matchmaking company to report you to the local police department?”

“Like they’d be able to find anything on me,” Theo scoffs. “My record’s been expunged.”

“Fine. Good nights out that don’t involve criminal activity?”

He hums, offering a lazy shrug. “Don’t remember most of ‘em.”

“Theo.”

“Kidding,” he sighs. “You know, I hear bingo nights at the senior center get pretty rowdy.”

“I really hate you,” Tracy says beneath her breath.

“Heard it before.”

——————————

“What color best represents your personality?”

Liam glances down at his sweatshirt.

“Blue.”

“Okay,” Mason nods.

“That’s kind of basic isn’t it?” Liam frowns. “I mean, blue? Everyone’s gonna say blue. What color did you say on yours?”

Mason raises a brow, says, “Green.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m comforting and have a mellow energy, I don’t know, dude, I just said green!” Mason answers, waving a dismissive hand.

“Personally, I think you’re more of a teal.”

“Okay, last I checked, you were only signing up for this event with me because I’m too chicken to go alone. Now, you’re putting more effort into your answers than I did.”

“...Let’s go with blue,” Liam relents.

——————————

“I’d say…something between green and black. Like the solid part of birdshit,” Theo answers. “Familiar, but distinctly unpleasant.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” Tracy mutters. “I’m putting red. Confident, warm, and inviting.”

——————————

“I’m easy-going, but also, uh, motivated. And…confident. Yeah. Confident. But not arrogant. Definitely not that. But I have a sensitive side, right? I totally have a sensitive side. Oh, and Hayden used to say I was very thoughtful, so maybe that. And charismatic.”

“Liam—”

“And genuine.”

“That was like ten times the amount of words you were supposed to give,” Mason sighs.

“Okay, look, just put down…” Liam trails off. He glances around his apartment, like his home decor will give him the answers. “Adventurous, kind-hearted, and intelligent.”

——————————

Tracy scrolls to the next question. Says, “Describe yourself in three words.”

“Down. To. Fuck.”

——————————

“What traits do you like and dislike most in a potential partner?”

“My dislikes?” Liam says. He draws his lip between his teeth, thinking. “Um, Impulsivity, indecisiveness—”

“Are you just describing yourself?” Mason asks.

“Very funny.”

Mason doesn’t laugh.

Liam falters. “Oh, shit. Wait. Am I?”

——————————

“What traits do you like and dislike most in a potential partner?”

He grins. Answers, “I like hefty bank accounts and dislike rigid morality.”

“Fucking hell, Theo, you have to take this somewhat seriously. They’re gonna match you with an absolute trainwreck and then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Trace, I never even wanted to do the whole speed dating—”

“It’s a blind date event,” she corrects. “Not speed dating.”

“Blind date thing. It’s a combination of my two least favorite things, mandatory small talk and insincere pleasantries with strangers. You’re kinda forcing my hand here,” he grumbles.

“Donovan didn’t complain a single time when he took the personality questionnaire,” Tracy says.

“Donovan is a serial dater. He’d probably sign up for this even if it wasn't a promotional event for your restaurant.”

She adds, “And Josh helped me put flyers downtown advertising Singles in the City for hours last weekend.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you implying I’m an unsupportive friend?”

“I’m implying that I’m thinking of demoting you to ‘acquaintance’ status.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

Theo shoots her a dry look.

“I know it’s silly to you, but it means a lot, okay?” Tracy stresses. “Hopefully, people will come and meet their soulmates and then fall in love, and get married, and have babies, and they’ll tell their kids the story of how they met at some cheesy matchmaking event at Chimera, and they’ll return on their anniversary and ask to sit at the table they first met at, and—”

“This is a soft opening for your restaurant. Not a rom-com.”

“I know, I know. I’m a mess,” she groans. “If all else fails, it’s an easy way to establish a customer base and gauge how the appetizer selection will go over with guests. If…anyone actually shows up.”

Theo softens. He relents, “Okay, whatever. I’ll take it seriously. Promise.”

“Good, ‘cause I’ll be too busy overseeing the front and back of house to get in on the love connection action. I’ll have to live vicariously through you,” Tracy sighs. “Last one. Do you have a gender-specific preference?”

“Eh, surprise me. But, if they match me with a chick maybe I’ll send her your way.”

“Now that’s worthy of you being promoted to Best-Friend-For-Life status.”

“Only if the date sucks though.”

“Wow. How generous of you.”

——————————

“And last pre-survey question…” Mason mumbles. His composure has melted. He’s a lump on the couch, looks more ready to nap than anything else. “Do you have a gender-specific preference?”

Liam shrugs.

“Nope.”

Mason sits up, bewildered. “That’s the only question that hasn’t taken you five minutes to answer. I’m kinda proud.”

“Well, in that case, you think we can reinvest the remaining four minutes to look over my other answers?”

“Oops, my finger slipped,” he presses enter and shuts the laptop. “Looks like your answers have been submitted.”

——————————

“You gotta last name to go with that first?”

Liam startles, only slightly. A guy—his date?—settles into the chair across from him. His nametag says Theo. His face says he’s uninterested.

“Dunbar.”

“Dumb-bar?”

Liam scowls, “No, it’s—”

“Raeken,” he says.

“What? I said Dunbar.”

“My name. Theo Raeken.”

“Oh. Oh,” Liam nods, shifting in his seat. It’s quiet. He hates the quiet. He wonders if his questionnaire answers should’ve been tweaked so that he could’ve been paired with someone that would show more interest in him than in the trays of food being carried around by waiters.

“Look, this is gonna suck, probably,” Liam says. “I mean it’s always weird having to do icebreaker questions and shit with people you don’t know, but uh. Let’s at least give it a shot. Full-fledged honesty’s the best way to go about it, right?”

Theo pulls his lips into a smirk. “And what if I told you I’m a pathological liar.”

“I’d say we’re off to a great start,” Liam mutters.

Theo leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. He runs a finger along the stem of his champagne glass.

“Full-fledged honesty? This is my friend’s place, and I only agreed to participate to offer moral support in exchange for free drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Not love. Sorry to disappoint.”

Over half an hour spent filling out that stupid questionnaire and Liam gets someone that bluffed for a complimentary dinner. Just his fucking luck.

“But…you’re single?”

Theo nods.

“Yes.”

Liam quirks a brow. He asks, “And you’re not lying about that?”

“Nope.”

Liam shrugs.

“Alright. I can work with that,” he slides the sheet across the table. “Ask me something.”

Theo lets out a bemused snort. He loses the disinterested expression, though, so Liam will consider that a win.

“Okay. Question one: Out of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?”

Liam mulls the question over for a few seconds. Says, “Maybe Plato.”

“Anyone in the world and you choose an old dead dude whose greatest ideas are already documented and who speaks a different language.”

He scoffs, “Who says I don’t know Ancient Greek?”

Theo shoots him a dubious look.

“Alright, so, maybe I don’t. But in the fantasy world where anyone can be my dinner guest, let’s assume I’m fluent in every language. And I’m not gonna pass up the opportunity to chat with an ancient Greek philosopher,” Liam answers. “I’d mostly just hope to soak up some enlightenment through osmosis. Plus he’d probably be running his mouth enough that I wouldn’t have to bother with entertaining him much.”

Theo takes a sip from his champagne glass.

“Running his mouth, huh. Sounds familiar.”

Liam sends a glare his direction, but it’s weak. He says, “Alright, smartass, who would you choose then?”

“Pet names already? I’m flattered,” he drawls. “My sister, probably.”

“Out of everyone. In the entire history of the world.”

“Yep.”

Theo doesn’t elaborate, just slides the question card over back over to Liam. He plucks a bacon-wrapped scallop off the appetizer tray carried around by one of the waiters, pops it into his mouth and raises an expectant brow.

Liam gulps.

“Question two…”

——————————

“Do I have a secret hunch about how I’ll die?” Liam groans. “Geez way to kill the mood. I’m still trying to work through the crushing mortality of reaching my mid-20s and this certainly doesn’t help with—”

“I think I’ll go out in a horrible freak accident somewhere random. Like a hardware store. Accidental beheading in Home Depot aisle 12,” Theo interrupts.

His insane answers are almost charming. Theo doesn’t take himself seriously and that makes it halfway-easier for Liam to let his guard down, too.

“Well. Personally, I was thinking something more along the lines of…uh, old age,” Liam shrugs. “My grandpa’s still kicking at the ripe age of 98.”

“Damn. Hope you didn’t just jinx him.”

“Dude.”

Theo raps his fist against the table, lips twitching into a grin.

“Knock on wood.”

——————————

“Am I boring you, Dunbar? Guess my idea of a ‘perfect day’ is too routine for you, yeah?”

“No. Sorry, not at all. Just,” Liam’s eyes drift across the restaurant, “that’s my friend and his blind date. I’m wondering how it’s going.”

Theo cranes his neck. Asks, “Which one?”

“The guy in the denim jacket at the table over there.”

Mason laughs too hard at something his blind date says, spills his glass of water on the neckline of his shirt in the process. Smooth. He’s totally gonna rant to Liam about that later. But his embarrassment will probably be overshadowed by the way he’ll swoon over how blind date guy uses his own napkin to dab at the wet splotch on his collar.

After a moment of unceremonious staring, Theo glances at Liam and says, “They’re beating us.”

“What?”

“Look at them,” he jerks his chin in the direction of their table. “They’re totally leaving here together. Hope he wasn’t your ride.”

Liam frowns. “Well. He actually was—”

“So, c’mon. You gonna let them outdo us or are you gonna win yourself a ride home tonight?”

Well. Liam’s never been one to turn down a challenge.

——————————

“Next one,” Theo says, face scrunched up in preemptive distaste. “Take four minutes to tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.”

Liam grimaces. “Think we can go back to the stupid fantasy questions?”

“C’mon, let’s hear it,” Theo sighs. “I’m timing you, motormouth.”

“I don’t like that pet name.”

“Didn’t ask.”

Liam levels a halfhearted glare at him. Says, “Fine, I’ll start, but you have to promise not to interrupt with a snide remark.”

Theo frowns, all mock-hurt. “That doesn’t even sound like me, but, whatever. Go ahead.”

It’s rushed, Liam’s summary of his life. Dad. Mom. Wedlock-baby him. Glosses over a volatile home life and shared custody and years of anger issues and psych appointments and school re-assignments. Finding a home in lacrosse, his college scholarship, his current assistant-coaching side gig when he’s not working as a curator. Fills in the a picture of his life with a broad brush that he hopes doesn’t make sirens blare in Theo’s head. The timer doesn’t go off. He’s not sure that Theo ever set it.

“So, yeah. That’s…me. I guess,” Liam sighs. At Theo’s patient silence, he adds, “I mean, whose idea was this? Yeah, reveal all your personal baggage to a complete stranger. Boom, instant love connection.”

Theo snorts, “Hey, I don’t know about you, but the subject of court-mandated therapy really gets me going.”

“Alright, your turn,” Liam says, grateful to step out of the spotlight. “Give me some of that full-fledged honesty.”

Theo’s casual about growing up. Only slightly vague. Keeps his voice even in a way that suggests he’s had to do a lot of reckoning with past. Talks about his parents, how them not being around much put him through situations he wishes he didn’t have to experience. But when he mentions his sister, her death, his words go heavy with self-directed blame.

Liam doesn’t time him. At all. Partly because he’d forgotten about the time constraint and partly because telling Theo to stop is the last thing he wants to do. Plus, it’d be a real asshole move. Making someone shut up the moment they decide to open themselves up.

“Anyway, yeah. Self-destructed my way through high school. Cut ties with my parents and got my shit together enough to go to college. I’ve been pursuing social work ever since,” he says, idly smoothing out creases in the tablecloth. “How much time is left?”

“Uh. Well. That would assume I even started the clock in the first place.”

There’s a lull. Quiet but far from uncomfortable. Liam’s cheeks heat up. He’ll blame it on the…lighting. The flame of the tealights in the center of their table. Definitely that.

Theo says, “So. Associate curator.”

“Yep. I spend long nights staring at old, dusty artifacts,” he nods. “Social worker, huh.”

“Mhm. My bank account is full of cobwebs and dust, so we have that in common,” Theo quips. “But, it’s important work to me.”

“Yeah,” Liam murmurs.

Theo nods. “Yeah.”

——————————

What is your most terrible memory?

Theo’s expression flattens. He says, “Not to impede this highly-scientific matchmaking process, but I’ve found that alcohol and reflecting on bad memories don’t mix. If you don’t mind, I’ll pass.”

Liam exhales, lips tugging upward into a shaky grin.

“You have no clue how badly I was hoping you’d say that.”

He picks up the card, taps it once against the table.

“Alright, next question. What does friendship mean to you?”

“My friends are my family,” Theo says.

“I can tell,” Liam snorts. “You wouldn’t be suffering through a matchmaking event otherwise.”

Theo’s forehead creases. “You think I’m suffering?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Theo gestures to a table across the dining area, where a man and woman sit stiffly across from each other donning match expression of discomfort.

He says, “I think they’re having a much worse time than us.”

——————————

Stare into your partner’s eyes for four minutes.

Liam blurts, “Would this be a bad time to—”

“Shut up, you’re supposed to be staring dreamily into my eyes right now.”

Liam rolls his eyes and stops the clock.

“How long did we make it?” Theo asks.

“Thirty-nine seconds.”

“God, I take it back. That thirty-nine seconds is my most terrible memory,” he huffs out. “You were saying?”

“I—uh. Sorry, this is embarrassing,” Liam mumbles. He draws his lower lip between his teeth. Admits, “I forgot your name like, twenty-five questions ago. Although I could probably rattle off your entire backstory now. But, what was it again?”

Half-restrained amusement flits through Theo’s eyes. He pulled his name tag off and balled it up inside his napkin shortly after introductions. Liam blames that noncompliance for his forgetfulness.

“I only agreed to 36 questions, Liam.”

“We skipped one,” he points out. “So technically you owe me one more answer.”

“It’s Theo.”

“Theo,” Liam echoes, lips curling upward. “Alright, it’s only fair that you ask me something now.”

Theo leans forward, eyes trailing across Liam’s face.

He asks, “Can I have your number?”

#i'm so allergic to things not being polished bc ❤️insecurity❤️#but i didn't want to just throw it out #even though it's just dialogue #i hope this isn't unbearably cringe djkfladjfskl there's a reason I never finished it #thiam #thiam fic #this is a lesson in learning not to take myself so seriously lmao

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byulsgrease · 3 years

Text

mamamoo reaction: pepero game with idol!reader

"could i request for a mamamoo reaction to doing the pocky/pepero game with Idol reader?"

of course tumblr ate the ask post I was originally drafting this in. 💀 this idea has been sitting on my running list of random ideas for ages, except it was s/o reader so this is a bit diff

the pocky/pepero distinction always makes me think of the gif, a throwback. funnily enough I’ve never actually had pepero, only pocky. yet another testament to how my upbringing was way more japanese than korean 🤠

anyway, I think their reactions would mostly depend on whether y'all are close or not, cuz if you're not I think all of them would play it pretty safe and be kinda shy. idol reader... I feel like cross-group pepero game is less common than it used to be? or maybe cuz with the panoramic and all there's a lot less cross-group interaction in general? idk I digress

Solar:

Would start laughing straight away and get really shaky

So much so that she ends up biting down and breaking the pepero way too early

At least you get to eat most of it

Probably ends up yelling at the hosts of whatever show you’re on (or at you), begging to give her another chance to redeem herself

“Wait, wait! Do-over, please!!”

Moonbyul:

In it to win it, her competitive spirit is unmatched

Verging on annoyingly confident throughout, you get close enough to feel the warmth of rushed exhalations on your skin

She’d only get flustered after-the-fact, a light blush tinging her cheeks with a sheepish smile, hand coming up to the back of her neck

Wanna play again? she’d ask all coy, wanting to show off

Wheein:

Would do it, but begrudgingly compared to everyone else

Inadvertently ends up laying her fingertips on your upper arms to steady herself without thinking

Much like Yong, can’t stop herself from getting flustered and giggling, but she manages to stick with it a bit better

Purposefully pulls away at a rather safe distance, she doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or have too close of a call, even if it means losing to the other members

Hwasa:

Starts off really fast— either takes tiny bites in rapid succession or a couple really big ones to throw you off

Also quite competitive, not as much as Byul but still pretty determined, a glint in her eye the entire time

Might chicken out at the very end, pulling away to laugh and cover her mouth in wide-eyed disbelief about how you got close enough for her eyelashes to flutter against your cheeks

#damn I haven't done a reaction in so long #is this only my second one?? LOL #requested #mamamoo reactions #mamamoo x reader #mamamoo fluff #girl group reactions #kpop reactions #mamamoo scenarios #girl group imagines #mamamoo imagines #moonbyul fluff #wheein fluff #solar fluff #hwasa fluff #kpop headcanons

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Make Him Look - Ch 1 / 2

Pairing: Cordell Walker x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: flirting, many many drinks, jealousy, dancing, slow burn Word Count: 3k Created for: @walker-bingo - In Vino Veritas | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Jealousy A/N: Written with the lovely @thinkinghardhardlythinking in mind ❤️and y'all can also blame her for the fact it got so long I split it into two 😂

Cordell swings his leg over a barstool and settles into his usual spot. The bar is busy but not crowded. There’s a few more empty stools awaiting occupants for the night, and Cordell hooks one with his foot and draws it closer, popping his hat down to save the seat for Liam, who’s on his way. But there’s no reason to wait for Liam before he orders – they get the same thing every time.

“Barkeep! Can I get some queso, hot wings, and whatever Pinthouse you’ve got on draft?”

“Sure thing, man,” the kid behind the bar drawls, his accent thick and voice lazy. Cordell would bet anything the guy had had a joint on his break earlier, but he’s off duty – tonight is not about busting people for drugs, tonight is about letting loose. He checks his phone to see if Liam had texted him that he’d left the office yet, but there is nothing there. Taking a sip of the drink that has just been plopped on a coaster in front of him, Cordell scans the room. It’s a bad habit that every law enforcement worker he’s ever met has developed. Even when he’s trying to relax and blow off some steam, he can’t help being a little vigilant.

He takes in the tableaus around him; the groups of kids from the local community college, the gaggle of mid to late aged men in awful polos that Cordell recognises as the inner city bowling league, a couple of less savoury looking guys playing pool, the cluster of women those guys keep eyeing up – he’ll keep an eye on that one.

Checking his phone again and taking another drink, he still hasn’t heard anything from Liam. He opens his brother’s contact and is about to give him a call to tell him to get his ass in gear when someone suddenly reaches down beside him, picks up his hat and drops it back on his head while they slide into the seat he’d been saving - except it’s not Liam.

“Hey you,” the stranger says familiarly, bumping her shoulder against his. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

You shrug out of your jacket and sling it over your arm as you head up to the worn wood counter of the bar. You don’t see your friend yet, so you decide to go ahead and order a drink while you wait for her to show. She’s always late, you should have just assumed and shown up fifteen minutes from now. You play on your phone as you wait for the bartender to finish serving the gang of people at the other end of the bar. When you feel someone in front of you, you look up, about to order a glass of wine, except one is already being placed on the bar top in front of you.

You stare questioningly at the kid serving you the drink. You’d been here before, sure, but you’re hardly a regular, and even if you were you don’t recognise this server – so why does he know what you were about to order?

“Um, I didn’t–” you start but the kid interrupts you.

“From the gentleman at the end of the bar, milady,” he gave a geeky little bow, “Sorry, he told me to say it like that,” he grimaces at himself. You chance a fleeting look back to the group you’d noticed him serving a few minutes ago and to your horror, you recognise your ex, Dirk, grinning back at you. He tips the brim of his ball cap and gives you a wink, like he’s expecting you to be impressed that he remembers you drink red wine. Shit, this is not how this night is supposed to go. You’re supposed to be here to get drunk with your best friend and have a bit of a dance, not be looking over your shoulder the whole night hoping that jerk leaves you alone.

Panicking a little now, you check your phone but there’s no text from Lea telling you when to expect her. Knowing her like you do, you would bet anything she won’t be here soon, and you don’t want to wait on your own and risk Dirk coming to talk to you. Desperately, you scan your eyes around the bar, cataloguing your options and escape routes. Someone catches your eye a few seats along from where you are. Tall, broad – dark and handsome, your mind supplies unhelpfully – but what really catches your eye is the badge hanging from his belt. He’s a Ranger.

Normally, you’d pick a group of girls who you know would happily pretend to know you so you don’t have to wait alone but you know Dirk, and you know he won’t be shy enough to let any number of girls stop him from coming to ruin your night. But a guy - and a Texas Ranger at that – Dirk wouldn’t dare. He had an outstanding DUI, and he’d always been a bit of a chicken around cops anyways.

Choice made, you grab the wine he’d bought you – hey, you’re not made of money, free booze is free booze – and you march purposefully over to the Ranger, who’s checking his phone and not paying attention until you grab his black cowboy hat off the chair next to him. Clearly he had been saving it for someone, and you want Dirk to think that someone is you.

“Hey you,” you chirp, placing his hat back on his head as you slide into the seat he’d been saving, “Thanks for saving me a seat.” You smile at the Ranger long enough to see him looking at you completely perplexed before you glance back to Dirk and see him watching you with a scowl. You let yourself feel inwardly triumphant and turn back to the man you’d just decided to befriend, if only temporarily.

Swivelling back towards him, you let yourself get a good look at his face for the first time. His bright hazel eyes are staring back at you, confused but not unkind. Tall, dark, and handsome is definitely apt, and now you’re seeing him properly you’re a bit speechless. You hadn’t counted on him being this freakin’ attractive.

“Sorry,” you finally manage to choke out under your breath. “I’ll leave you alone soon, I promise, I’m just hiding from my ex,” you explain, and understanding melts across the man’s face.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks sympathetically.

“Just pretend like you know me until my friend gets here?” you propose hopefully.

“Happy to,” he smiles, grabbing his drink and holding it out to clink against your wine glass. You tap your glass against his, relief flooding your body as you settle onto your stool a little more comfortably.

“Thank you…” you trail off leadingly, hoping he’ll fill in his name.

“Cordell,” he supplies.

“Now there is a Texan name if I ever heard one,” you giggle.

“If you’re gonna laugh at my name do I at least get the chance to laugh at yours too?” he grins jokingly.

“Y/N,” you give him your name, tucking your hair behind your ear and taking a sip of your wine.

“Well that’s no fun, how can I tease you for such a pretty name?” Cordell takes a sip of his own drink, mirroring you. Jeez, this one is a smooth talker.

When you finish your glass of wine, probably a little quicker than normal due to your anxious state, you check your phone again and see a missed call from Lea. “Crap,” you sigh, drawing a concerned look from Cordell, who is happily munching away on some chips and queso next to you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, muffled, mouth still full of food.

“Yeah, s’just my friend bailing on me,” you gripe, listening to the voicemail she’d left on your phone a few minutes ago. “Sorry I gate crashed your night for nothing,” you apologise, popping your phone back in your bag and planning on just going home to turn in early and watch some junky tv show in bed now that your ‘girls night’ wasn’t happening.

“Hey, you aren’t gate crashing.” Cordell shrugs, like he’s hedging his bets with his next statement. “I’ve had a good time so far.” His smile is shy and sincere, and you soften just a little in your annoyance at the world.

“I totally am though, you were clearly waiting for someone,” you gesture to the stool you’d taken up residence on.

“Just my work-a-holic brother, who, as luck would have it–” Cordell pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up to show the message on the lock screen “–also pulled out on me.”

“Oh,” you blink, not sure what to make of that. It sounds like he’s asking you to stay but… “Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armour for a bit, seriously, but I don’t really want to stick around just to have my ex looking at me all night.”

“Well, if he’s gonna be a creep and keep watching you all night, we could make that fun, give him something to watch,” Cordell offers, his smirk incongruous with the almost hopeful expression in his eyes.

“What?” You’re perplexed.

“I mean, I don’t know what happened between you, but it’s pretty obvious to me that he wants you back, and you seem pretty pissed at him for that. I’m guessing the bastard cheated on you?” You huff in response, a little bitter that he’d read the situation so easily.

“Yeah, he did,” you admit, slumping against the bar, feeling downtrodden at the memory.

“So don’t let him chase you off,” Cordell shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He messed you around – you tellin’ me you wouldn’t like to mess with him right back?” he raises an eyebrow in temptation, a knowing smirk twitching at his lips.

“And you’re proposing that instead of not wanting him to look at me all night–”

“You make him look,” Cordell finishes your sentence for you. “We’ve already pretended to know each other for the past–” he checks his watch “–twenty minutes. May as well just do the whole pretend date.” Cordell looks at you with so much honesty, you believe that he really does just want to help you screw with Dirk. And you cannot say the idea isn’t appealing.

“Alright,” you concede, shaking your head slightly in disbelief that you’re actually agreeing to this, and Cordell’s face splits into a wide smile. Honestly, seeing that expression alone made agreeing to this worth it. “So, if we’re on a pretend date, you gonna pretend to buy me another drink?”

“No,” you insist, shaking your head vehemently.

“C’mon,” Cordell chides, grinning madly.

“I did not agree to this,” you shake your head, finishing off the last bit of wine in your glass.

“Come on,” he urges again, leaning against the bar and tilting his head close to yours pleadingly.

“I am not dancing,” you repeat, wholeheartedly meaning it. You think if you have to come into genuine skin to skin contact with Cordell, you might actually melt into a puddle. Now three glasses of wine into your fake date, you can feel yourself loosening up and really enjoying yourself with this handsome stranger. He’s kind, and funny, and a little weird but in a charming way – exactly your type. And him begging you to dance with him wasn’t helping your self-restraint. This is a fake date, you keep reminding yourself firmly every time he flashes you that little half smile that makes his eyes light up.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of boring fake dates you usually go on, but mine aren’t complete unless I get to show off my two-step and knock back a tequila shot.”

“Oh, we’re doing tequila now, are we?” You laugh – this guy is actually ridiculous, and you kind of love it.

“That wasn’t a no,” he jumps on your ‘non denial’ and waves at the kid behind the bar. “Two tequilas, two limes?” he holds up two fingers and the bartender nods to him, quickly pouring out the shots and dropping two lime wedges onto a plate. Cordell grabs a salt shaker from the condiments rack on the bar and sets everything up between you. You let him work, watching incredulously but enjoying the show nonetheless.

“Give me your hand,” he holds out his own hand expectantly once he’s arranged all the pieces to his liking.

“Why?” your voice is nervous but your hand reaches out instantly of its own accord. Without answering he proceeds to rub the edge of the lime over the inside of your wrist, then puts the lime in your fingers and shakes some salt over the trail of juice he left behind. He does the same thing to himself, then passes you your shot, which you take in your lime-free hand.

“Right, you wanna do this the normal way or the ‘make Dirk jealous way’?” Cordell asks with a smirk once he’s oriented himself.

“I’m gonna regret asking this, but what’s the ‘make Dirk jealous’ way?” you groan exaggeratedly, like he’s put some great burden on you, but the truth is you’re really enjoying yourself.

“Like this,” Cordell steps up to you and links your right arms together. Catching his drift you smile and try to hold back the snort of laughter that bubbles up inside you – a nervous reaction to feeling the warmth of his body against yours, even through the layer of his shirt. “One, two, three,” he counts off and you go to lick the salt off your wrist except that’s what Cordell is doing. You freeze momentarily, heat shooting up your arm from where his tongue and lips are laving over your skin. You don’t think to move until Cordell puts his own wrist against your lips and you lick obediently.

Your linked arms pull you closer together as Cordell lifts the tequila to his lips and you follow suit in a kind of trance, both knocking back your shots. The tequila hits you harder than you remember it ever doing before, and you scrunch up your face, disoriented for a moment until you once again feel Cordell’s lips on your skin. This time they’re wrapping around your finger tips as he sucks the lime into his mouth. You stand frozen, the burn in your mouth and your fingers meeting in your chest and ratcheting up your heart rate as if you’re trying to run away from the oncoming flames. But it’s hopeless, you’re stuck in the blaze now.

“You want your lime, darlin’?” Cordell laughs at your stock still frame and holds his fingers to your lips, gently pressing the fruit inside and urging you to suck. You’re sure you must have physically combusted into fire by now, but Cordell isn’t jumping away like he’s been singed – he’s pressing closer. “Dance with me,” he rasps, voice hoarse from the burn of the alcohol. It’s not a request anymore, it’s an order, and you don’t question it.

Drawing his hand down the arm of yours linked with his until your fingers lace together, he pulls you away from the bar and out onto the dance floor. It’s an upbeat country song, the kind you’d normally jump around to, but he pulls you in and wraps an arm around your waist like a proper partner dance calls for – except he’s ignored the social convention of leaving room for Jesus. He pulls you after him in tiny circles and you let him lead happily. When the song changes to something a little slower he pulls you just a little tighter, and you can’t stop yourself from moving your gaze off his shoulder up to his face.

His eyes dart over your shoulder, then smile down at you wryly, and you feel yourself blush. “He’s watching,” Cordell grins mischievously. You go to look but he puts a hand on your neck and holds you still, keeping your eyes on him. His fingers are strong and warm against your collarbone, ironically causing you to shiver. “No, don’t look at him,” his voice is low as he leans in conspiratorially, “you wanna make him look, remember?”

“Why are you helping me?” The alcohol swimming through your veins is making you comfortable and fuzzy, and you let yourself lean against him familiarly, your head resting against his chest as he continues to move you both around the dance floor. You feel him shrug as his grips on your hand and the nape of your neck tighten a little.

“The truth?” he asks. You can hear the nerves in his voice, even if you can’t see them on his face.

“No, I want you to lie to me, please,” your voice manages to stay serious through the end of the joke before you burst into giggles, and you feel your laughter move into his body and trigger his own, making his chest rise and fall unevenly beneath your cheek.

“You are one hell of a gal, you know that?” You’re glad your face is buried in his chest so he can’t see just how brightly you smile at the compliment. “Truth is, I’ve been trying to get you drunk and have my wicked way with you.” You can tell by how expressionless his voice has gone that he’s winding you up, but you pull back and slap your hand to your chest in mock horror.

“Well Cordell Walker, I have never met such a rogue in my life,” you gasp in your best Scarlet O’Hara accent. It’s not a good one. Neither of you can keep a straight face for more than a few seconds, and you both double over in laughter after your minuscule standoff.

As your laughter dies down, Cordell grabs your hands again and pulls you back to him, swaying entirely out of time to the song that’s playing. He looks like he’s about to say something but the words haven’t quite found their way to his tongue, and when you catch his eyes you suddenly don’t want to hear what he has to say and you pull away from him. He looks at you, puzzled and just the slightest bit hurt as you try to find some cover for your sudden movement.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a bourbon fan, would you?”

Part 2 Here!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67

All Walker: @lovealways-j @delightfullykrispypeach @stoneyggirl @thinkinghardhardlythinking @sams-sass @walkersbabygirl

#walkerbingo #anyfandomgoesbingo #afgbingo #walker x reader #cordell x reader #fake dating #slow burn #walker fic #jared padalecki

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up.

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years. But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning.

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course.

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.”

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said.

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed.

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him.

You (9:43am) Of course, send the details. I trust your taste!

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself. Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly…

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you.

Seokjin (9:50am) The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30. Seokjin

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother).

You (9:52am) I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later!

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it.

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely. He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back.

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to.

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again.

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious.

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea…

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing.

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man.

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately.

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly.

“Hey,” you greeted back.

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment.

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway.

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous.

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #mls:drabbles #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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lorircreates · 2 years

Note

I’ve wanted to brighten up peoples day and to ask what’s your MC / OC favorite dish/snack?

Thanks 😍

Hi there, sweetie!

Sorry, it took me awhile to answer your question. I added it to my drafts to make a more elaborate answer and forgot it while I was working on Dani's (@missameliep) birthday gift 🤦🏻‍♀️

Anyway, I have lots of OCs, so I chose three among them so I don't get too carried away and make this post longer than it already is 😅

Alisha (D&D OC) is a chef, so she's more into homemade food than industrialized stuff. She likes all kinds of snacks (pretzels, donuts, potato chips, etc), but she always has some dried fruits with her. They're sweet, the have all the necessary nutrients we need from a fruit and she can carry them on her bag to eat along the day. Her favorite is dried damask because its taste and texture reminds her of a candy.

Her favorite dessert are cupcakes. She is fascinated by cakes and the first recipe she learned were cupcakes. They are an opportunity to be creative with the flavors and make beautiful frosting decorations.

Her favorite main dish is murgh makhani (a.k.a butter chicken). Alisha left India to live with her adoptive parents at a very young age and since she spent most of her life there in a poor orphanage, she doesn't remember much of Indian dishes. Her parents, however, are loving people who encouraged her to remain close to her roots. One day her mother asked the cook to prepare murgh makhani for lunch and Alisha loved its creamy texture enriched with spices. Whenever she finds an Indian restaurant or goes to India, she always asks for it.

As a bonus, I also chose a drink for each of them and Alisha's is Sharbat (or Bombay lemonade), a lemonade that also has some spices and black salt. It's perfect for summer days, but she drinks it regardless of the weather or season.

Daphne (D&D MC) loves food, but she can barely boil an egg 😂 Luckily, she doesn't have to cook, so she can simply appreciate the dishes. Lo Mein is her favorite dish and comfort food. It reminds her of childhood and the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen whenever her mother or grandma were cooking.

Her two favorite snacks are popcorn and licorice. Shockingly (lol), she can make a nice bowl of popcorn, but she often chooses licorice because she can carry it on her bag and eat whenever she's a bit hungry, but not hungry enough to order food or have her roommate or boyfriend to cook for her. She carries big rolls of red licorice during trips and always shares them with her boyfriend.

Her favorite dessert is macarons. Her first experience with it was when she met her young brother and Harry kept pestering Lord Vincent about going to a bakery to have macarons. She had no idea of what it was and simply found it a cute cookie when she saw it. But as soon as the extremely light almond cookie filled with chocolate ganache melted into her mouth, she understood the fuss about it.

Bonus: Daphne likes to drink anything sweet, but her favorite is strawberry daiquiris. It's a plus if it's frozen, but as long as there's alcohol, sugar and strawberries, she doesn't discriminate 😂

Evelyn (OpH MC) loves homemade food, but since doctors have crazy routines, she usually eats anything that is easy to make or that she can order. On Edenbrook's vending machines, she only gets potato chips. According to her, you can't go wrong with them. Her favorite main dish is pastelón, a Puerto Rican version of lasagna she was introduced to during a family trip.

Her favorite dessert is brigadeiro. There's a heavy influence of Rafael in her eating habits, but she can't deny that those little chocolate balls or the eat straight from the pan version are so comforting during nights she's by herself, watching TV.

Her drink is beer. A cold beer, with some side snacks and good company is all she needs to unwind after work.

Thank you so much for the ask, dear!

#lori answers #peonierose #ocs ask

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writingbeary · 3 years

Text

Welcome back

“Do you think he’ll notice?” you asked looking at your reflection in the mirror. It’s been 3 months since you last saw each other personally. He’s been away for work and as much as you’re excited to finally see him and hold him in your arms, you were also not yet prepared to talk about the soon-to-be new addition to your family. You were starting to show, although still barely noticeable, but it is there. You wore a white smock dress with small flower embroidery and plan to put on some comfortable flats to go with it. It wasn’t that you were actively trying to hide the pregnancy, but you weren’t sure how your husband would react once the news hits him.

Heechul walked over laughing. “I didn’t think you’d be this worried. Why didn’t you tell him over the countless times you both talked?”

“I wanted to but I always chicken out when I see him so stressed over work. I didn’t want to add on to that.” you sighed looking over to your long-time friend.

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted. You both have also been married for what now? 3? 4 years? It’s also about time for Super Junior to actually have juniors.” Heechul grinned, shrugging a bit

“Almost 4 now. You say that but you haven’t really contributed in that sense, you old man.” you laughed, teasing him

“Yah. Must you hurt me like this? Your husband is the same age as me!” He clutched his chest dramatically “It’s just we haven’t really talked about our plans and it’s fun living just by ourselves for now. My wife is also in the peak of her career so I’d rather wait for her. Wait until my niece gets born and I’ll make sure she gets married to my son.”

“Assuming you get a son, that is. That’s true. She is also overseas for a schedule right? She was asking me what I want as souvenirs and to keep you in check.” laughing, you shook your head giving yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your shoes.

“I’m hurt. You both think I’m up to no good every time. Anyway you should tell him soon though, sooner or later it’ll be hard for you to move around without help. Enough about that. We should go now, I promised the other guys I’d drive you to the restaurant before 11am. Leeteuk and Siwon would arrive together from the airport while the others are already there.”

“Mhm. Don’t worry. I’ll tell him today. Besides, he’ll probably notice it even before I say anything.” Heechul chuckled agreeing with you

The restaurant was a short drive from our home, the place was reserved for the day for the guys to catch up with one another. You’ve always wondered how they could maintain their friendship through all the years so it wasn’t a surprise that they do get together once in a while. Only this time, it’s a day for a lot of events worth celebrating for: from Leeteuk and Siwon returning from overseas work, Yesung, Donghae and Eunhyuk releasing another album, Shindong expanding his business, Ryeowook finishing up another musical, and Kyuhyun finally proposing to his partner. It was also a huge day for both you and Leeteuk. Most of the guys knew about the pregnancy and they we’re all dead set on telling Leeteuk about it if you don’t soon and even if the others don’t you feel like Kyuhyun or Heechul would.

“Oh you’re here! Noona sit beside me, how is she?” Eunhyuk pulls the chair beside him patting it.

“Hyukkie-ah, you won’t get to see her until 6 months more.” you chuckled sitting down beside him

“Meet who? What did I miss?” you hear Leeteuk say surprising you and Eunhyuk. Leeteuk placed a kiss on your forehead, sitting down on your other side.

“Oh you’re here. Eunhyuk is excited to meet this cute lady.” you smile looking at your husband.

“Really? Are you going to see them?” Leeteuk grinned at Eunhyuk making the whole table laugh other than Leeteuk who is left confused.

“What’s so funny?” Leeteuk frowned looking at the others

“I think this lady is too young for me hyung.” Eunhyuk tried to answer in-between laughter.

"I'd be the first one to call the police." Kyuhyun snickered

Not understanding what is happening, Leeteuk looked at you for an explanation. "Honey, what's all this about?"

"They're not talking about a potential lover for Eunhyuk or anyone of your members." letting out a laugh then taking his hand and placing it on top of your tummy. Smiling, you raised an eyebrow trying to see if he would get it.

Leeteuk blinked, looking back and forth from your face to your tummy. "You're not joking, right? Is this what I think it is?"

You nodded. "Mhm. Before you joke around, no it's not that I gained weight."

"I wasn't about to say that! Y/N, how-...when-...why-"

"What? Hyung, you don't know how babies are made?" Kyuhyun snickered making Leeteuk send a glare at him jokingly "Not that. Since when did you know?" he pulled you into a light hug looking into your eyes.

"A few days after you left. I was at work when I felt a bit dizzy and nauseous around certain smells. I thought it was nothing until one of my coworkers told me to get examined. I got the results and have been on tight guard by your members."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to. But I didn't want to add on to your worries when you're already stressed and it's not like you can fly back right away. Sorry. I didn't mean to keep it from you" you smiled apologetically, placing your hands on too of his playing with his wedding band.

"I would have flown right back. I'm sorry I left you alone." Leeteuk sighed "Now that I'm back we have a lot of things to do and buy, Y/N."

"Believe me when I say the uncles are all enthusiastic when they found out. They've been a huge help that I didn't have much to do. Apparently, being pregnant also means that I cannot drive or go somewhere alone to these people." you glared playfully at the members while they raise their protest saying they didn't want to get killed if something happened to you while Leeteuk was away and that they're pretty much the child's uncle.

Leeteuk chuckled thanking the members. "I'm still sad that I only found out now. I missed a lot of moments. I need to make it up to you and our little angel."

"There'd be plenty more and I'm holding on to that once it gets more difficult or if I crave anything." you joked poking his arm

He let out a laugh nodding "I'll do my best."

"Also, you'll have to be the one to tell In-young unnie and you'll have to come with me to visit my parents."

Chuckling, Leeteuk pulled you pulled you closer before leaning in to whisper to your ear "Thank you honey. I'll be an even better husband to you.I love you."

"I'd say get a room but you already have one on the way so there's no need for that." Heechul grinned, making everyone laugh.

"Welcome back honey." you smiled placing a kiss on his cheek

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner:

this was in my drafts since last week but i didn’t know how to finish it or who to use as characters lol there was a lot to consider when i was writing this and i end up redoing the whole thing over and over again O3O hopefully you'll still enjoy this though!

-Mimi

#kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #super junior x reader #suju x reader #fem!reader #pregnancy #written work #writing beary #kpop imagines #oneshot #suju leeteuk #park jungsoo

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

Text

Flower Rings

Hello everyone! I'm here with another Anisylum collab! This is the first time writing for my OG anime husband, so please go easy on me. But yeah! I hope y'all enjoy and check out the other works from the other creators participating!

CW: Abuse/beating, fluffy hurt/comfort, ATTACK ON TITAN MANGA SPOILERS, mentions of trauma, suicide, and death.

Life in the ghetto wasn’t a walk in the park. Sure, life could be worse, (Y/N) could be going hungry at night, slowly turning into skin and bones. (Y/N) could be shivering the night away in a flimsy tent with a single blanket to keep warm.

Although it’s a little hard to be grateful for what you have when it feels like the oppressor is always watching your every move.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the lack of justice in these ghettos provided by the Marleyan regime, however, young (Y/N) didn’t pay attention to her oppressors as much, they’re only a child after all. Why would they even want to be concerned about politics when the neighbors are playing a game of kickball?

Almost like clockwork, every week at precisely 5pm, the children born in the ghetto would gather in a courtyard and play kickball, with the ball being an old ball accidentally thrown over the fence years ago and the bases marked by old linens.

Kids of all ages gathered as usual at the court yard to divide out the teams and begin their game of ball. (Y/N) wasn’t the youngest there, but at seven years old, they were still young and scrawny, so it was no surprise that (Y/N) was one of the last ones picked.

(Y/N) sighed in relief, however, when they saw that Reiner was on their team. Reiner was three years older than (Y/N), and pretty much tied to their hip. Since both their mothers were friends growing up, they always had playdates together, playing with various figures and creating these elaborate plots to go along with them.

“We’re on the same team? Yes!” Reiner celebrates, jumping around excitedly as any ten year old would.

“You’re only celebrating because you’re too chicken to face me,” (Y/N) teased, sticking their tongue out.

A succession of ‘am not’s and ‘am to’s was promptly stopped when one of the older kids shouted that the game was about to start. Team Black would be kicking first while Team White would pitch.

(Y/N)’s favorite part of the game was kicking, so finding out that the Black Team was kicking first was music to their ears. They ran to the line, getting as close to the front as they could. Reiner held back, as he preferred catching the ball and running fast to get someone out.

(Y/N) was finally up to kick. Team Black had an out and kids on second and third base. If they scored, their team would get their first point.

The ball bounced a slight bit as it made its way toward (Y/N). (Y/N) wound back their leg and hit the ball back, aiming in between the second and third base. The ball flew and (Y/N) sprinted to first base.

What (Y/N) failed to realize was that Jameson, the eight year old boy that had a personal goal of making every day miserable for (Y/N), was waiting by first base.

As they ran toward the base, Jameson positioned himself to where his foot would ‘accidently’ get in the way of (Y/N)’s footing. Sure enough, (Y/N) stepped on his foot, causing them to lose their balance and fall to the ground before hitting the base.

“What the hell, (Y/N), you stepped on my foot!” Jameson shouted, landing a kick in (Y/N)’s side. (Y/N) yelped in pain as they curled into themself.

“You put your foot there on purpose,” (Y/N) sniffled as pain-filled tears leaked from their eyes.

“So what if I did? You still should have avoided it,” Jameson landed another kick to their side.

Reiner, who was zoned out looking at a bee buzzing around, snapped back to reality when he heard (Y/N) yelp in pain in the distance. Before he could think, he found himself running over to the two and punching Jameson square in the face.

Before Jameson could retaliate, Reiner picked up (Y/N) from the ground and ran away from the game, carrying them on his back. Deciding it was not worth the effort, Jameson let them run off as he got back to his game, but not before the team captain of the day switched him to outfield as punishment.

With (Y/N) on his back, Reiner ran to their self proclaimed happy place, if you could call anywhere in the ghetto happy. Near the entrance gate, there was a patch of grass where wildflowers grow, giving them a taste of the natural world that was unknown to them within the walls of the ghetto. He set them down and plopped next to their shuttering frame.

“How are you feeling, (Y/N), are you hurt? Do we need to go to the doctor?” Reiner asked.

“I’m hurt, but I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

“Are you still afraid that the doctor is going to give you a shot?” Reiner teased.

“Shut up! Needles are scary!” (Y/N) whined, causing Reiner to giggle.

Soon enough, the pain in (Y/N)’s side began to fade, and they focused themselves on making a flower crown while Reiner watched the Marleyan soldiers outside the gate train.

“My mama wants me to be a warrior, but I’m not too sure that's what I want to do,” Reiner sighed, lying all the way back on his back.

“How come? Isn’t becoming a warrior one of the best things an Eldian can do for Marley?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, but that would mean I would have to work really hard, while buttheads like Jameson would get to play and make fun of you. It wouldn’t be fair!”

“Why are boys like Jameson so mean anyway? My mommy told me that it just meant that he liked me, but why would someone be mean to someone they liked?” (Y/N) asked.

“Is that a thing?” Reiner asks.

“That’s what mommy says,” (Y/N) finished their flower crown and unceremoniously flopped it onto Reiner’s head, earning a giggle from him. “I wouldn’t want to marry a guy like Jameson, I would want to marry a guy like you, Reiner, who’s nice to me.”

“Then how about we make a promise?” Reiner asked.

“A promise?”

“Yeah, like, we promise to marry each other now, and once we get big we actually do it?” Reiner’s cheeks were now bright red.

“Yeah! I like that! I promise to marry you, Reiner,” (Y/N) extended a pinky out.

Reiner crudely plucked a flower from the ground and tied the stem around (Y/N)’s finger. Reiner’s fingers were chubby and unskilled, so the flower ring didn’t turn out as pretty as the crown, yet (Y/N) still stared at it.

“And I promise to marry you, (Y/N).”

XXX

Reiner ended up joining the Warriors a few years later, to the dismay of (Y/N). The flower ring had since shriveled up beyond repair, but (Y/N) refused to let go of their promise, thinking that if the flower stayed in their possession, it would guarantee Reiner’s safe return home.

However, the mission that was estimated to take the four warriors a year or two to complete turned into a major failure with rumors stating that only one of them was making it home. However, (Y/N) didn’t have the time to mourn her lost friend, Marley was still causing conflict in both the battle front and the home front.

It wouldn’t be until after the Rumbling ended when (Y/N) would meet up with Reiner again. He was in the area negotiating peace with some other nations, and decided a late lunch and catch-up session with his childhood friend was in order.

“So, how was going through puberty like on an island without modern medicine?” (Y/N) asked shamelessly.

“What happened to hello?” Reiner asked, causing (Y/N) to erupt in laughter.

“I’m just sad I didn’t get to witness voice-crack Reiner,” (Y/N) wiped a tear from their eye, causing Reiner to groan.

They then began to catch up, retelling all their experiences from the past thirteen years. Reiner went into detail as to what it was like training with the man who almost killed all of humanity, his trauma, and even his suicide attempt while (Y/N) retold moments of agony in the ghetto, their dad getting drafted for one of the countless wars, and even confessed that they and Jameson dated at one point.

“You! And him!” Reiner stuttered.

“Apparently my mom was right, Jameson pretended he hated me because he couldn’t decipher his own feelings. Dumped his ass a while ago though, he started spending all his money on alcohol.”

“So I’m assuming you’re not seeing anyone?” Reiner asked.

“Not at the moment, why do you ask?”

“Well, (Y/N), I may have had ulterior motives to this lunch,” Reiner pulled out a small box from his pocket and set it on the table, inviting (Y/N) to open it up. Inside was a ring, with the centerpiece shaped as the flower that he tied onto (Y/N)’s finger all those years ago.

“What is this?” (Y/N) stuttered.

“You probably don’t remember, but one day, I gave you a flower ring with a promise. I’m sure it’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah, lost it in the rumbling. Are you really proposing to me right now?”

“No no no! This is just a reminder of that promise we made that afternoon. That promise helped me push through all the hardships I faced,” Reiner flailed his arms a bit, getting slightly flustered.

“So, a promise ring?”

“I promised I’d marry you, didn’t I?” Reiner asked as he pulled out his pinky. Smiling, (Y/N) slipped on the ring and interlocked their pinky with his.

“You did, Reiner, you did.”

#attack on titan #aot #aot spoilers #reiner x y/n #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reader insert #attack on titan x reader #h/c #server collab #I tried my best but classes start tomorrow and I'm lowkey nervous

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jungshookz · 4 years

Text

Halloween in CeeWorld

I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to post this.

These drabbles were in Cee’s drafts, so... if I wasn’t supposed to post this, blame it on Y/N.

Enjoy. Or not. It doesn’t really matter to me.

the little ghost (ceo!yoongiverse)

“alright, let’s get this quarantine hwalloween party started!” you clap your hands together as you step into the living room before rubbing them together excitedly, “is everyone excited??”

“as excited as i’ll ever be,” jungkook huffs as he leans back against the sofa chair, “i can’t believe we’re celebrating halloween indoors like a bunch of losers-”

“you’re very much welcome to leave-” yoongi butts in, “and then stay isolated in your own apartment for two weeks after you’re done partying as part of the safety protocol-”

“quick question- why does jungkook get to be the one with the goggles?” jimin gets up from the couch before putting his hands on his hips, “i look way hotter in them-”

you frown lightly before rolling your eyes, “does it matter who gets the goggles-”

“yeah! the goggles ties the entire costume together-”

you and yoongi exchange knowing glances when jungkook and jimin start to bicker over who should get the goggles and you know that if you don’t cut it off right now that they’ll continue to argue until the end of time

“where’s my little ghost?” you interrupt loudly, cupping both hands around your mouth as a makeshift megaphone, “oh, spooky little ghost...”

a moment of silence ticks by and suddenly-

the sound of rapidly approaching little footsteps echoes down the hallway and you grin excitedly, dropping down onto your knees before reaching up to adjust the inflatable proton-pack you have on your back

pap-pap-pap-pap

hwayoung bursts out into the living room wearing a plain white sheet with two holes cut out for her eyes and you feel your heart basically bust out of your chest

you already saw her in her costume earlier when you were getting her ready but

god

it gets you every single time!

you were debating on cutting two holes for her pigtails but then you’d figure she’d look less spooky that way

anD you were going to cut two holes for her arms but that would completely ruin the look of the costume as well

everyone knows ghosts don’t have arms or ponytails

“ᶦ ᵍᵒʰˢᵗ, ᵐᵃᵐᵃᵎ” hwayoung practically ramS her little body directly into you and you laugh lightly when she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet

she leans forward to boop her nose against yours through the sheet, “ᶦ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ!”

“oh my god-” yoongi snorts, bringing his hand up over his mouth when hwayoung blinks up at him through the sheets, “that’s… that’s hilarious.”

holy shit

that’s so cute

“i have to admit, i thought a blanket ghost was a lazy costume idea, but-” jungkook nudges you aside before looking down at hwayoung with a grin, “look how cute she looks!”

“i know!” you clap your hands before letting out a sigh, “it was actually pretty hard cutting out the eyeholes into two perfect circles.”

“aw, now i’m sad that we don’t get to go trick or treating! we would look so good walking out on the streets-” jimin groans, reaching down to pat the top of hwa’s head, “the ghostbusters with this little itty bitty super scary ghost-”

“ᵇᵒᵒᵎ” hwayoung sticks her arms out from under the sheets and you let out an exaggerated gasp as if she actually scared you

(you don’t miss the way jungkook jumps but you choose not to point it out)

“okay, now what do you say?” you get up off the ground, everyone immediately going off to their designated candy stations at your signal

yoongi’s in the kitchen, jungkook’s in the laundry room, jimin’s in hwa’s bedroom, and you’re the lucky one who gets to accompany your daughter on her candy-collecting journey

“do we know if hwa’s allergic to peanuts yet?” jungkook pokes his head around the corner before holding the bag of mixed candies up, “i think i should eat all the reese’s peanut butter cups just to be safe-”

“ᵗᶦᶜᵏ ᵒʰ ᵗᵉᵃᵗᵎ”

“nuh-uh-” yoongi opens the kitchen door, “what do we really say?”

hwayoung pauses and you frown lightly as you think about his question as well

what does he mean what do you really say?

you really say trick or treat when you go trick-or-treating

what else are you supposed to say??

hwayoung suddenly perks up and reaches up to wrap her hand around your pointer finger to get your attention

you look down at her, “yes?”

“ᵗᶦᶜᵏ ᵒʰ ᵗᵉᵃᵗ ᵖᵉᵃˢᵉᵎ”

“trick or treat, pleas-” you turn around to send yoongi a playful glare, “yoongi, no one says please when they go trick or treating-!”

“we’re not raising an animal, y/n-!”

hello, playboy (secretary!yoongiverse)

yoongi doesn’t really understand why halloween is such a big deal

he’s pretty sure it’s just an excuse for people to go out half-naked anD for people to get completely wasted without being judged

sure, he supposes it can be fun for people to dress up and stuff, but at the end of the day, think about it!

you’re wasting money on a costume that you’re literally only going to be wearing ONCE a year and then you’re probably never going to wear it again because you can’t wear the same costume twice in row because everyone knows that’s lame

he’s, personally, never had to worry about costumes before because he literally?? doesn’t dress up or do anything for halloween

but things have changed now that you’re the boss

and one of those things is celebrating halloween with a fun costume party

admittedly, he enjoys company parties because he gets to drink free booze and eat free food all night (last year they served these mini buffalo chicken sliders at the christmas party and he still dreams about them from time to time)

and yeah, it’s nice getting to mingle with his colleagues and not having to worry about any office work

but costume parties are so lame!

he knows you’re only throwing it because you’re trying to prove to people that you’re a fun boss, but if anything, this costume party will make people think you’re trying too hard to be a fun boss, ultimately making you the lamest boss ever

...no offence, obviously

he tried to explain that to you because he,,. really doesn’t wanna see you get hurt again but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you, it’s that you’re very stubborn

anyways

he’s waiting for you because you’re changing into your costume in your office and then the two of you are going to head up to the rooftop together

“yoongi, i need you to-” yoongi looks over when you open your office door slightly before sticking your head out, “is that your costume?”

yoongi reaches up to brush his fingers over the flimsy devil’s horns he clipped into his hair before nodding, “yeah. i’m a demon. duh.”

“that’s… yeah, those are devil horns, alright,” you snort, “you didn’t even- c’mon, you’re still wearing your clothes from work-”

“then i’m a secretary from hell.” yoongi lowers his voice before wiggling his fingers spookily, “what did you need me to do?”

“i can’t zip my dress up. do you mind…?” you ask sheepishly and yoongi nods and turns to shut off his monitor seeing as you guys are almost ready to go

“sure thing. also, just a reminder that the party started, like, ten minutes ag- woah.” yoongi turns back around and feels his mouth go dry when he sees the costume you’re in

hello, playboy

he didn’t know that this was the costume you were going with

holy shit

the little black satin dress that you’ve got on is hugging your figure in a way that he’s,.., never seen before,..,

and you usually wear heels to work but these stilettos are making your legs look,.,. wow

black stockings usually aren’t the first thing he thinks of when he thinks sexy but you are most definitely changing his mind about that

“eh, it’s fine.” you sigh before spinning around and moving your hair to one side, “i don’t think anyone cares if i’m even at the party or not, anyway.”

yoongi swallows thickly when he notices the little cotton tail that’s glued onto the back of the dress

nice touch

very nice touch

his brain is telling him to move but he finds that he’s frozen to the spot as his eyes slowly trail up your bare back

you turn your head to glance at yoongi over your shoulder, “yoongi?”

he’s always thought that you were pretty, so that’s not something that’s suddenly being revealed to him or anything

and he’s always thought that you were cute (especially when you make a fool out of yourself trying to get his attention)

but this?

you look… sexy.

really, really sexy.

“yes! sorry, i just- that’s-” he clears his throat and shakes himself out of it, “that’s not true…” he steps forward before gently taking the zipper, “i would care if you weren’t there.”

the zipper glides smoothly against the silky satin as he pulls upwards, yoongi making sure not to snag any loose strands of hair or anything along the way

jesus christ

and you smell good, too

“okay, you’re good.” yoongi steps back and folds both his hands in front of him, “zipper’s, uh, good to go.”

“thanks- also, you’re only saying that because you have to.” you turn around before rolling your eyes playfully

“saying what?”

“that you’d care if i wasn’t at the party.” you repeat, reaching up to adjust the little collar you’re wearing around your neck, “i know everyone hates me, yoongi. you don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

“i’m not sugarcoating it!” yoongi scoffs, watching you struggle with the buttons in your cuffs for a moment before automatically reaching out to help you, “…and who cares what they think, anyway? at the end of the day, you’re the boss.” he nods firmly, looking up at you, “now lemme hear you say it.”

you chuckle nervously before looking away, “i’m not gonna-”

“come on...” your heart skips a beat when yoongi hooks a finger under your chin to turn your head back to face him, “just once? for me?”

god

he really knows how to pull your strings, doesn’t he?

you let out a sigh

“i’m the boss.” you mumble sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck

you’re the boss

...you’re the boss.

you have the power to fire all of these people. (not that you’re going to, but... you know)

so why are you so scared of them??

your brows knit together and you stand up a little straighter, “yeah… i am the boss…!”

“that’s right!” yoongi chirps, nudging you aside so he can quickly turn your office lights off and shut the door for you, “now, we’re going to go up to the party and we’re going to have a good time and you’re not going to sit there worrying about what other people think about you-”

“yeah! i’m not!” you grin, reaching up to fix the bunny ears sitting on your head

yoongi smiles before holding his arm out for you, “c’mon, bunny. let’s go show everyone who’s boss.”

sweeter than frosting (lveb!jooniverse)

“i’m back!”

you look up from your mixing bowl when you hear the front door slam shut

yoongi glances over his shoulder before looking back at you, “are we really going to spend the entire day baking?”

you nod before shrugging as if telling him that it is what it is

you usually get a lot of orders whenever it’s a holiday, and halloween is no different because,.,. duh

halloween parties all over the city!

the thing is, you didn’t think that you’d get a lot of orders this year because of social distancing and all of that, but you were sorely mistaken

you have forty-five orders today and you’re pretty sure you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew

your average is like fifteen orders a day

obviously you’re super grateful for the business because money is good and nice and helps to pay for bills or whatever but

woW

these are a lot of orders!!!!!

and you have to do everything by yourself!!

yoongi’s actually supposed to be helping you, but his version of helping you is sitting on his ass and occasionally handing you a tool every now and then

at one point you asked him to hand you a piping bag and he handed you a spoon which??? how?? did he even???

how did he mix up piping bag and spOON

he also eats whatever leftover bits you shave off the top of a cake or whatever frosting is unused

so, all in all... not very helpful.

it’s nice to have company, though!

yoongi even suggested to put on a spooky movie to keep the two of you somewhat in the holiday spirits while you work your butt off

he insisted that you guys watch something really scary and super bloody so he’s.,,. not entirely sure how you ended up convincing him to watch wallace and gromit: the curse of the were-rabbit

“how’s it going in here?” namjoon steps into the kitchen and almost instantly the corners of your mouth turn up in a bright smile

he offered to be one of your delivery boys today to help out and you would’ve jumped his bones right then and there if it weren’t for the presence of yoongi and hoseok in the living room

he’s just!!!!

he gets more and more perfect every single day :’)

“going okay...” you gesture to the multiple mixing bowls around the kitchen, “halfway done!”

“mm, would you look at that.” yoongi mutters to himself as he keeps his eyes glued on the laptop screen, “that is indeed a were-rabbit...”

“are you- are eating the frosting or are you helping y/n frost the cupcakes?” namjoon pauses to look at the bowl that yoongi has cradling to his chest, yoongi humming as he sucks off the remainder of the frosting off his spoon

“eating!” “helping.”

both you and yoongi speak up at the same time and you two look at each other before exchanging knowing glances

“eating.” “…yeah. eating.”

yoongi leans over to pause the movie before turning in his stool to look at namjoon

“waht are you thuppothed ta be?” yoongi asks, the spoon hanging from his mouth carelessly as he turns to look at namjoon

namjoon perks up when he realizes that he must be referring to his super fun halloween costume

he reaches up to brush his fingers over the little beansprout clip he has in his hair with a grin, “a sprout!”

he was trying to think of a creative plant-based costume but there weren’t a lot of options for grown adult men like himself

there was a broccoli costume that he could’ve pretended was a tree, but… it’s very clearly broccoli

so this was the next best thing!

and it was pretty cheap too, so that’s a bonus

“i think it’s cute.” you giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to namjoon’s cheek, “very cute!”

“mm, i think you’re cute-” namjoon grins cheekily, slinking an arm around your waist and pulling you in closer so that you can give him a proper kiss

“-!”

yoongi immediately groans and looks up towards the ceiling, “god, you guys are sick-”

“uh, says the one eating frosting by the spoonful-“ namjoon pulls away for a split second and laughs lightly when you turn his head to get him to kiss you again

heh

:-)

wa-hoo! [roommate!taehyungiverse]

“alright, people, let’s get this show on the roa- oh, jesus-!” namjoon immediately spins around as soon as he barGEs into the apartment, his face going bright red

he just got a very good look at taehyung’s bare ass which was the last thing he was excepting when he walked in here

well

maybe not the last thing he was expecting

“what the fu- ever heard of ringing the bell?!” taehyung rolls off of you before pulling his overalls up so that namjoon doesn’t see both his ass and his dick in the span of three seconds, “this isn’t even your friggin’ apartment anymor-” he turns to look at you, “hey, why does namjoon still have a key, anyway?”

you get up off the couch before pulling your skirt down a little, “in case we both lose ours! he’s also my emergency contact number.”

“okay, but- wait, why aren’t i your emergency contact number?” taehyung frowns, placing both hands on his hips

…

“okay, we don’t have time to do couple’s counselling- are you two ready to go or not?” namjoon turns his head a little to make sure that everyone’s clothed and no body parts are carelessly hanging out

phew

he’s in the clear

oh, jesus

what makes things worse is the fact that you guys are dressed up as mario and luigi

THEY’RE BROTHERS

AND BROTHERS DON’T DO WHAT YOU GUYS WERE JUST DOING

“yeah, yeah, we’re ready to go-” taehyung raises a brow as he sticks his green hat back on, “why are we even going barhopping anyway? it’s not going to be fun having to get our temperature checked every time we go into a building-“

“it’s halloween!” you hand him his mask (you guys stuck the moustaches onto the mask, which you think is a pretty clever way to deal with the whole mask wearing situation) “and now that conditions are slightly better, we have to take advantage!”

“c’mon, mario, get your heels on-” namjoon claps his hands to get your guys’ attention, “i’m parked out front and i do not want my car getting towed-”

“okay, gimme a sec-” taehyung gives your bum a swat when you bend over to step into your heels and you let out a gasp as you shoot straight back up with pink cheeks, “taehyung!”

“what?” taehyung raises both his hands in defence, “i couldn’t not smack it-”

namjoon’s face twists in discomfort

he’s completely fine with the pda

what he’s bothered by are the costumes and the mental image of luigi smacking mario’s ass that’s now burned into his mind forever

he’s… going to stay away from super smash bros for a while.

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